Trivial Triflings of An Aimless AKK

The Story of a little Girl and her Shadow

2009-10-18T22:21:00.007+08:00

Hi all!

Long time no see! I've had this story with me since primary school but it was never developed. This full story took a little while in the making and perhaps is not as innocent as the first version, but nevertheless, Its now here for recordal purposes. So I hope you guys enjoyed it too.

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This is the story of a little girl and her shadow. But well, it became the story of the girl and her shadow because of the little girl and her weight. You see, this girl is, to put a nice ring to it, plump. Mean boys in her school have called her fat. Meaner girls have called her ‘obese’, after learning this word during Health education.

But the minimum that anyone could say, when pressed to describe something about her, will say plump, or chubby.

She was sent to the Trim-And-Fit club in school, where they made her run and do squats every recess. And the teacher eyes the bowl of soup noodles which she bought, making certain there’s no meat but full of veggies.

Please half the portion of your noodles, honey.

Tapping her feet, the teacher spaces out from her standing view of the bunch of ‘fatties’ (her word) settling down to eat meatless soup noodles, wondering how she’s going to get her trim student numbers up by next month.

The world is not nice when you don’t look nice.

Our heroine, was of course, someone who knows that, but is, as most kids her age (9 yrs old), was unable to do anything about it. Therefore, a personality and habit of not caring much, of pretending to turn the deaf ear to the mean boys and meaner girls, of eating more during dinner to make up for the lackluster recess, grew like a mushroom in her. And like those mushroom that huddled beneath tree trunks, she was quiet and unobtrusive and reads a lot- a veritable bookworm.

Because when she reads, she disappears. Goodbye, she’d say to the world, to her mum (who was busy cooking usually, or burping her infant brother), then retreat into another place. She’d pop back when time came for dinner.

So actually, perhaps this is not just a story about a girl and her weight, which became the story of a girl and shadow, but actually the story of a girl and her disappearances.

So, don’t be impatient. I’ll now go straight to the point now we have deciphered her like a scalpel running through skin.

On the way to and from school was a route that takes her through a lonely roadside path littered with street lamps. It was a relatively peaceful place about 20 years ago, which was when the story happened. After a tough session in the TAF club (the teacher upped the number of squats) and her tummy growling, our heroine was uncharacteristically cranky.

As her feet prattles past the street lamps, she kept her head down, watching her shadow shift from behind her feet to the front and elongating as she walked further from one street lamp, then disappearing.

As she approached the next street lamp, her shadow, forever trapped at her feet, casted a long figure behind her, slowly becoming shorter and shorter until she is right beneath the lamp.

Now the shadow becomes a round ball. She was sure if she stood straight up, her shadow would be perfectly round. Disgusting! She thought in disgust. Urggh! Ugly ugly!

She peered past her skirt. Her shadow obliged by growing a small bump where her head was. Her shadow laughs, she’s now a snowman!

She stamped her feet angrily and only got her toes stubbed for her pains. Her shadow is not even bruised.

Our heroine burst into tears. I’m only 9, dammit (her elder brother taught her that)! I’m supposed to be having an adventure! I’m supposed to have 3 siblings and a dog! And my parents are supposed to be explorers lost in a plane crash and all 5 of us are stranded on an island trying to run away from bad guys tracking us down for our inheritance!
A breeze swept through the roadside, causing the trees to sigh in sympathy. She is all alone with the breeze and her shadow and the endless street lamps that curve round the bend.

Stupid girl, her shadow said. You aren’t that bad. Just walk forward. And without much further ado, her shadow propelled her away from beneath the lamp.

Immediately, her shadow lengthened. Every step the bumps softened and merged into a line. Her shadow narrowed and became taller, the roundness disappeared. Our heroine stopped at where she thought gave her shadow the best shape and adjusted her feet till it was just right.

Wow….she thought, I look just like XXX (who was the meanest girl in class, and also the slimmest, smartest……).

How about that, said her shadow. One day, you will look like this. Maybe not now, not tomorrow, but eventually, you will grow to be how I am now. I’m you, I am a part of you, so I know what I’m talking about. Trust me, trust yourself.

Our heroine considered.

And here is where she splits into two.

****************************

In one, our heroine decides to trust her shadow and therefore herself, dried her tears and went home for dinner. For the first time, she did not ask for second helpings and helped her mum mop the kitchen after. This continued for the rest of her growing years.

She became more open while the taunts became less until it was clear if anyone ever tease her about her weight, it was due to mere jealousy and does not hold much….. weight. Her mum naturally became delighted that her daughter seemed a lot more pro-active than before. One who begun taking an interest in looking after her little brother and fought back with the older brother. She even dumped her library activities and joined a sports club. A definite improvement, although she remained a bookworm and read prolifically, she maintained her ‘goodbyes’ too before retreating to her room.

The only peculiar thing she noticed was that her daughter now had a habit of staring at the ground whenever she went and checking the floor behind her, especially where there is light. And sometimes, just sometimes, she appeared a little… thin…, not thin as in her figure, although she was never as plump as she was before, but thin like a bad TV image…More like, her mum decided…flat…

One day, as she walked pass her daughter’s room, she decided to take a peek. Like all mothers, she gave the perfunctory knock, but immediately opened the door, hoping to catch the last known action of the roomer before they discovered they were being watched.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Her daughter’s last known action was reading on the bed. A bad habit that her mum knew never left her. Then her daughter sprang up from the bed and gave a reproachful look, while she gave an inane reason and apologized profusely while nagging her to read properly at her desk. She closed the door and giggled. Her calm daughter caught unawares is something she has not seen in a while. Then she frowned, she was prepared to discount precisely what she thought she saw, but she did thought she saw a definite flicker, like static, running through her daughter just when she opened the door.

The mother, who was once also a prolific reader and full of imaginations before reality caught up in a spin of babies and daily trips to the market and cooking, gave a shrug. Her daughter gave a ready smile as much as any normal child and if she appeared a little more calm than the next, a logical mum was also prepared to discount this little bit of musing for a lot of peace and quiet.

There was a crash and a loud wail. She hurried back to the living room, the past image erased.

And the first half-story ends with our heroine growing up as normal as can be, if a little spacey from time to time and taken to smiling at her shadow. Her shadow and her are in agreement although they were not whole, a regrettable outcome because of the split.

****************************

In the other half story, our heroine considered her perfectly shaped shadow and decided the opposite.

‘I wish I would look like you now.’ She said to her shadow.

You don’t trust me? Her shadow was hurt.

‘I’m 9. I’m supposed to be impatient. Won’t you help me? It would solve all my problems.’ Our heroine pleads. She is aware that something big is going on in the background, but like a fountain that never stops, it was not possible to hear it clearly or even know it exist until it does and the silence reigns.

You don’t know what you are wishing for.

‘But I do! I want the teasing to stop. I want to graduate from the TAF club. I don’t want to be the ‘plump one’ in my family anymore. In fact, why am I talking to myself? And why are you replying?’

Our heroine’s eyes glowed. ‘Is this some sort of alternative universe I’m always reading about? Is there a secret doorway in the lamp post or is it really a wardrobe in disguise and a tiny fairy is going to open it and peep out?’

Our heroine (who is getting less heroic by the minute) waited a moment for the shadow to answer, but the shadow remained silent.

‘But what I want to know is,’ she spoke slowly, ‘Can you really help me? You say I don’t know what I am wishing for, but does that mean I can really make one and it will come true?’ and waited again.

The trees sighed, swaying a little. Faraway, the squaw of a crow cut through the little bubble of silence, but she did not hear it. She understood that she was locked in a Moment, as far as a 9 year old can understand.

Her shadow finally sighed like the trees and explained.

Look, everyone knows alternate universes exist, like the border between life and death, the split in time between choices. Their entrance is both far away and yet gossamer thin.

Our heroine nods, she has read about it too.

An alternate universe did indeed form, her shadow continues, but this one is inside you, your emotions, your musings, your hope and your despairs, whenever you escape somewhere inside yourself.

The little girl frowns. This is a little beyond her.

Think about it, the shadow continues. Did you not feel the lack of the passing of time when you are deeply reading? When a painter paints, he is lost in his alternate world until earthly desires like hunger takes him back. When a student takes his exam, his alternate universe includes both time and whatever knowledge he packs in there and protects him, if he is prepared, from fear and visions of failure.

I have always been an external part of you, intangible, but a part of you nevertheless. Possibly it is the moon, which is full tonight, or the tides, or the alignment of the galaxies and the planets, but whatever it is, this universe has now projected beyond you and now includes me. Beats me why I can converse with you now.

The shadow turns it eyeless face towards her. Or why, if you wish, so you can have what you want just for tonight.

Our heroine’s heart leapt. ‘Really?’ she gasped. ‘Then, shadow, grant me my wish! Let me look like you!’ she spread her hands out, noting that her shadow did the same, except that her shadow’s arms are slimmer and longer and more elegant. Piano fingers.

Please don’t.

‘Grant me.’ She focused. She felt she could see the boundary where her universe was. A thin silver line that formed a dome, encapsulating her and her shadow. The shadow writhed as if pain, but like pain that does not transcend from her stubbed toe to the shadow, the experience was unable to connect to her body. At once, she felt herself slowly stretching and laughed.

It worked! She gazed at her stubby fingers in wonder as they became piano fingers. She felt her body started to stretch and she grew taller. Her tummy narrowed and lengthened. All the while, the buzzing white noise at the edge of her consciousness became louder, more urgent.

She stopped laughing. Something is wrong. Her piano fingers kept elongating and thinning. The stretching seemed endless. Her belly button is starting to hurt now that it’s a long long oval. She saw that as she grew, her shadow got bigger too underneath the lamp light.

With horror, she realized that her wish won’t let her stop growing. Her body and her shadow fed off each other like 2 mirrors facing one another.

See? Her shadow gasped. Make it stop! It hurts!

In fear, she turned and ran towards the light, her long skinny feet covering the distance easily, until her shadow became slightly squat. She felt the blood starting to pool around her bones as the fingers start to shorten. Her feet began to ache less and her head didn’t feel so heavy, but within a few seconds, she is back to the vicious cycle. Her shadow mimicking her short body and her wish mimicking her shadow.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ the little girl sobbed as she became shorter and shorter. There is no way to end the wish. If she ran forward, she’s grow impossibly tall and never stop, if she ran towards the light, she will be a squat flat round thing the circumference of her tummy. She had made the grievous mistake which her shadow had been trying to tell her.

I am a part of you, an extension of you. To become me is to be incomplete, where will the real you be?

While the shadow beseeched her, the little girl pelted back and forth the light until she was wearied. She felt as if the whole process had been a long time, but time is not a factor here. She forced her heartbeat to stop its ferocious thudding and calm down.

Slowly, deliberately, the little girl took control of her panic and pressed herself to take small measured steps. She shifted back and forth so that her body, while continuing to make its adjustments, nevertheless stabilizes to a constant slow pace. Her body had become grotesque as it struggled to mesh itself to the shadow shape during the panic. One arm is distinctly longer than the other while her left foot is a stub.

When she finally had her mind in order, she took a review of the situation. ‘This can’t go on. I’m a wreck.’ The little girl looked at herself. For once, she had liked to have her old body back, fat or not. But a wish cannot be un-wished, everyone knows that.

Be yourself. Go back.

The little girl understood. Swaying back and forth, she concentrated. The white noise in the background she now realized it for what it was. What had happened to her was never real, had never happened. Time is not a factor. She was separate from reality like that cat in the box paradox. If the cat disappears the minute you open the box, does the cat exist? To the cat, it knows it exists, but to the person, it does not.

I am now in a paradox. She thought. This street is my box, no one sees me and I see no one. I exist, but I do not exist fully. Somewhere outside of this, a little girl is currently absent-mindedly fixated on her shadow along the roadside while people walked pass her.

She concentrated. The silver lining glowed and expanded until it was so tall, it included the street lamp casting her shadow. Then frowning fiercely (all the while shifting back and forth), she stare at the lamp, now in her immediate alternate universe.

The lamp bulb burst in a sprinkling of glass and light. In the flickering before all light ceased, the shadow thanked the little girl and the two of them plunged into darkness. Naturally, the wish, looking at the absence of light, which cast no shadow, mimic nothing.

The girl in her alternate universe, created by her hopes and dreams and her escapades before dinner, whom sought to become her shadow and was incomplete, vanished. The white noise rushed in to fill the void as the current universe crashed in.

****************************

Our heroine blinked. Outside everyday noises once again flowed through her ears. The loud squaw catches her attention. She looked up to see a crow picking lice off itself on the street lamp, which was back on.

She patted herself. She was as plump as before. No changes there. Her shadow was like any other, a devoid of light caused by shining on an opaque object. But to be on the safe side, she said loudly to no one in particular.

‘I trust you and I’m sorry.’ Then she smiled and walked home.

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**The cat in the box paradox in this story is a simplified version of Schroedinger’s Cat paradox on quantum physics and the Falling Tree paradox. Unless we see and hear something, does it in actual fact exists or is it in a state of supposition? The current paradox can also be reversed. If a cat only appears everytime you open the box, does the cat exist when the box is closed?

Out,

AKK

Listening with a smile....

2009-08-21T22:53:00.007+08:00

Hi all!

I’m currently typing away in my darling lappy (4 years and still surviving! Take that, Mac!!!) with the stereo blasting away my current favourite album. I had just spend the last hour mopping the whole house and A is out swimming.

The whole house is mine and mine alone….

Ah....Bliss…….

OK lah, I admit I like the couple life. Every decision I can’t make, someone can make for me. Every hug I give, I get one in return. Every meal I make, I make extra.

But sometimes... sometimes... even 2 people in 1 house can be too crowded, especially when you don’t lock the doors. You know you aren’t alone and that enough can stop you from doing exactly what you wanted, like blasting music...

In fact, being considerate can be tiring.

So today for that 1 hour break of me-time….I am drumming out this post.

Today’s entry is a bit irrelevant and redundant. It’s about music, specifically music coming from my sound system. It’s Chinese R&B. It’s soft and sweet and dreamy. It’s upbeat and sad and hopeful. It’s heartache and promises.

I’m listening to it and thinking of the person who gave it to me. He is much like this album….

I bet you are asking me, Woah! What does that mean? What does AKK mean?

Well frankly, you don’t have to suspect anything actually; it means exactly what I am saying.

I'm saying that I like the album very much and I like the person who gave it to me very much too.

Perhaps a little too much.

So...

I wanted this blog to be honest, an outlet that blows the silent part of me wide open like a fresh gust of wind through fresh laundry. I want this place to be the place I can say anything without censure because I want to be the one to admit that I am not perfect. That I’ve got my base desires, that I’ve got this dark side of me, that I’ve got my roving eyes and my fantasies.

Anonymously anyway.

And yet, every time I try to write something honest, I think about the people who know me, my friends, Chwee Kueh…the everyday people who read my blog and I hesitate, not only because I am a coward and don’t dare to show myself to be less morally upright than I should, but also because I don’t want to disappoint the multitudes of people who believes in fairy tales, the Oddball and the Prince Charming coming together in the burst of romance.

How can the Oddball now possibly think of anyone else other than the irascible Prince Charming? Audacious, you say. But mostly, you meant Ungateful.

But as the tracks spin themselves and the stereo wraps me like a soft cocoon, all I can think about is why?

Why can’t I stop these lips from quirking? I hastily slapped my face with both hands.

There’s a lot of things that can run through the mind everyday, but nailing them into words gives them a permanent address and a definite personality….

So perhaps I shall just end this here….

Perhaps there will be a second parter that announces to that this post was a mistake….

Perhaps like the PPQ volume, I wish to put myself under my own scrutiny and run it out like a drama, willing myself to go and face my own Life, question its worth, questions its morals, question its beliefs.

Whatever. For now, the music hums throughout the whole house and I am doing my little bobbing akin to the Muppets in Sesame Street. For now, my thoughts are only mine. For now, there’s only me.

Que Sera Sera…

Out!

AKK

Quitting....long overdue

2009-07-06T22:29:00.000+08:00

“Quitting while you are ahead….

Is not the same as quitting…”

So says the Vietnam Drug Lord to Denzel Washington in the show American Gangster.

It’s with ang-ku-kueh typicality that I should be so inspired, not by the Dalai Lama, not by Gandhi, not even by Obama, but rather a Hollywood film featuring 1 bad guy sprouting words of wisdom to another bad guy, who soon will end up in jail for ‘murdering the young of America’ during the 80s.

But it’s true, I’m throwing in the towel. I’m giving up. It’s been 7 months since I shifted to the new workplace and now I’ll be moving on again. I think its kind of pathetic, to admit that hey, you really can’t take this kind of work/working environment/boss/office politics etc etc,. Its like that 10-km Nike Human Race that I joined. I ran and ran and ran and I thought, I should have ran about halfway already…and then seeing the huge banner flapping happily at me, ‘you hit 2km! 8 more to go!’ That sinking feeling from the heart to the tummy is simply relentless!

Or the time I studied a whole week and all night just for a simple math test in JC. Getting so stressed my butt-cheeks clenched and I couldn’t sit down. Going to the 24-h clinic at 12 midnight while the doc spend 5 min poking my butt and shaking his head. Then turning down his offer to give me 2 days’ MC so I can skip the test. And finally doing my test in the sickroom perched right at the edge of the chair.

And yet not only failing the test, but failing it so miserably. It just makes you cry, man.

Which was basically which I did when I got another job. I cried like a miserable sod becos I was so strung up and out by my workplace. It drowned me, tumbled me, then wrung me out and hung me in the sun to dessicate.

I thought Public sector was bureaucratic, but wow, I tell you from the bottom of my heart, this place is much worse. I knew something was wrong when my dad ended up in ICU and my boss refused to let me leave because a work emergency cropped up. That was at 7.30pm in the evening. It’s not late, but by the time I could leave my work, my mum told me to go home cos visiting hrs are over.

I stopped eating for a period because eating make me sleepy and I couldn’t afford to relax. It was a steady stream of concentration from start to finish. I even stopped drinking fluids because every second counts. I was fasting from 9am to 10pm and yet at the end of the day, I had cleared only a tenth of the shit the predecessor had left.

My skin condition started failing. I was getting rashes and breakouts along my neck. I started having panic attacks again. I think about my deadlines all the time. Everyone tells me to relax and let go of my work. But I couldn’t! Every deadline is money, every missed deadline is $400 a pop, no negotiations, no mercy. How I wish I could just scream a colourful string of expletives and just do what I can during office hours, and let go at the end of the day. But I cannot, probably because I take things too seriously, much like that Math test. So I was working minimum 10 hour days and constantly high-strung.

Now I know why some ppl can get heart attack at work.

So one day I finally admitted defeat and say, ‘I think I’ve had enough.’ I had been crying during work because of work, hiding in my cubicle and saying I’ve got a cold, something which I never thought I will be doing. Pride had been roundly beaten up and tortured enough that it is now shakily waving a white flag. Arrogance had been backed into a corner by Fear and now whimpers sorry sorry sorry….

How hard it was to admit defeat.

The hard work has paid off though. The portfolio is almost finally cleansed and the dirt from the 3 predecessors (staying power: 1 year; 3 months ; 2 weeks) is dwindling, what was once a massive gigantic nuclear bomb the size to hit Hiroshima is now a mere embassy-hostage situation. My boss now discovers my full potential as the mighty oxen, the employee who never says no, who never complains, who never misses a deadline even when her dad was carted into NUH.

How hard it is to admit that even as I turned the portfolio around and made it well again, I don’t want to stay and I don’t want to continue in this line of work.

How hard it is to admit that, yes, given just another month, I can wrestle my work to become more manageable, everything will turn out better, but I refuse to stay because I hate those deadlines.

It’s that kind of heart-sinking feeling that the miles that you ran, on and on and on……it seemed like a hundred years, but it was barely 6 months- a blimp in the life of a person.

So yah…. taking the quote of Mr Vietnam Drug Lord

“Quit while you are ahead…”

It ain’t the same, man, as quitting, but boy did it sure feel like it.

So now the new place…..well…definitely there’s no where to go but up.

Busy busy! You guys take care!

Out!

Ang Ku Kueh

Atypical Message of Love

2009-04-10T17:04:00.003+08:00

Hi all!

I'm Back! It's been a torrential pass 6-8 months for me and man, did I need that much time to clean up my Life and my messes. But everything's OK now! And I am now trying to get back to being as happy as I was in 2007, somewhere round there I think.

But anyways, thanks to technology, I wrote an email to my beloved parents. I'm proud to have a mum who has an internet email address, although she never remembers it and asks Dad for it, since dad was the one who set it up for her.

I think she has come a long way from being a housewife whose horizons are the 5 by 5m of the HDB flat we all stayed in to being a kindergarten teacher whose horizons has widen beyond the schoolroom, albeit at a lowered angle of vision.

I wish for her now to expand beyond that, pass the schoolroom, pass the teacher's office, pass the local papers (which is written in a pro-govt language). I wish for her to see between the lines accurately and I wish for her to lose her sense of self-pity. In fact, I wish for her the ability to dissociate, because not everything that happens in the family is because of her. Siblings quarrel and fight. Perhaps when we are younger, we use nails, teeth and knuckles. But of cos, as we grow older, the ammunition become less physical, more mental.

Of cos, the weapons you cant see are always the ones that hurt the most, because the hurt continues even after they are withdrawn. In fact, even after the apologies.

But hey, that's Life and that's siblings. There is a reason why we are related by blood. Because water leaves no stains and no responsibility.

But as usual, i digress. i wish to publish an email to wrote to my parents just today. I don't know why i feel I should do this or even why my first post after such a long absence should be this particular email.

I think maybe, I just want to say, although i miss my blog, I miss my family more.

I wish for all of you that you can communicate with your parents like the way i am doing now. i am lucky this way.

here goes (almost verbatim):

Hi Pa and Ma,

I confirmed that I gave 1k to Ma in Dec hor (no wonder I no savings in Dec and Jan). From now on, all those ITR codes in the bank books are from me. ITR means Internet Transfer, only i do it, i think.

Actually I feel like splitting the house money to pass to you both leh, because I think Ma never check, always assume I never give (quite a few times liao), can be very upsetting and I feel quite unappreciated. Sometimes I don't give that month because I'm cash-strapped, but I always give more later to pay off the debt. I think not only should Ma not forget it but know that I am trying very hard.

So the 'fan xing' she tell me to do...I think she should do it herself. She should think long and hard. I'm not staying with you guys anymore and I have my own loans and living expenses. I don't have free board and food and I don't earn a lot, but I try my best to not only give money to you but I also try to show my appreciation in other ways because I know you two seldom try anything new. Just don't forget that I love you both very much, so although certain things can say, never say I don't care or compare with the other siblings concerning money. On the issue of caring, I think I'm equal. I also got more heart.

Sorry to put this in lah, but after talking with Mum just now, Im really quite sad because I think she loves to make split judgments without thinking. I don't think i should be more accommodating or tolerant because she is old and cannot change, if I do that, I'll never talk to her about important things, hahah.

I don't think she wants that and if she doesnt, she really should try and change because I've already changed alot. I don't scream at her just because I cannot get her to understand anymore, a blessing certainly. But it doesnt mean she has changed to understand me better. She is still the same, talking without thinking.

Ok lah, enough. Don't worry about this email lah, I just need to get this off my chest. If Pa is going to translate this message to Ma, then Pa, you must do it carefully, don't make this situation like the car thing with Bro, ok? Thanks ah. And Ma, if you are reading this, then you also be very careful to digest the whole message that I am telling you, not just the 1-2 points you can remember and then start thinking all the wrong thoughts. I write here because I am quite sure if I try to tell you on the phone, you will immediately find the first excuse to say sorry and forget about the whole thing and not actually learn from the whole situation.

Sorry is a very easy word to say but not very easy to act on.

And you two ah, I love you both very much, ok? Please see with your eyes big big hor! I may not be home or you may not see me very often, but I am working long hours, so if I don't call or anything, it does not mean I don't care.

Cheers ah and enjoy your weekend!

Ah Kueh

Will post every now and then for our guys. Miss you all.

Out!
AKK

my new place...

2008-08-22T00:30:00.002+08:00

Hi all!

It's been 4 months since i last wrote.

I'm not dead yet.

But I'm barely alive.

I took a change in environment.

And i realised that in the space of the age of this blog, I have changed my working environment twice......

I'm working 12 hour days....

I have no regrets.

I need to sleep now....just popped in to put in a few words and to say to my frens out there....

I'm still alive! Gasping for breath and several cards away from the full deck...but still alivE!

out!

AKK
XXOOXOO

Life of Us Ikan Bilis. Vol 1

2008-04-08T23:53:00.002+08:00

(For all characters featured beforehand like Jane, Keisha and the Scotsman, pls read the last Ping Pong Queen series to refresh memory. Ed featured here is from The Phone Call)

Hi all!

Perhaps it is time for a confession.

I haven’t been blogging because very simply, I’ve been depressed. And true to the akk creed, I couldn’t write much when I’m down and out. Even funny things gets forgotten in the haze of dumbed down panic. As I mentioned before, there has been a re-structuring going on at my workplace. Not just a re-structuring, but also a re-shuffle. One beer-filled Saturday, Keisha mumbled over the glass that she and Jane (both same section) are going to move their lab a few levels up. Next thing I know, their cubicles are standing empty in the office, every memorabilia gone, even the 3M hooks on the wall that Jane used to hang up her jacket.

2 days later, I moved my own cubicle to Jane’s old one while someone else took up Keisha’s. Both of them had been the early staffers so their cubicle spaces were prime locations. Pragmatically it was the right thing to do, so now I never had to check my back nor put up a mirror to see who’s behind me, but somehow it was all different. I fretted incessantly over them while they were away, because I was used to their presence and their chit chat while they had been around. I was used to having them message me on MSN even when they were just a cubicle away, usually to gossip because we were eavesdropping on PPQ’s loud voice on the telephone.

Now I wondered if they were well, being under TWO new bosses instead of the original Scottish bloke. I had heard stories and frankly, just this issue of the TWO bosses would have warrant a ‘chronicles’ status, but my heart wasn’t in it to invest time and effort writing about them when it was without doubt that my 2 good frens have been silently suffering.

But for the sake of comprehension, here’s the round-up so far. If you all remember, Ed has been introduced once here as the director of my department. He came to replace the one who had originally hired me (the BB aka Big Boss) because BB decided he wanted to increase his golf time during the work week. Ed was originally sent here to resolve the issue of the company’s direction. I guess you can say that during then, things were already getting loopy.

Ed turned out to be quite a welfare person, which was a pleasant surprise, but he was a stranger to the company and the company had been rolling down a straight path to destruction. Much like a train with bad brakes down a gently sloping track. It was slow but unstoppable. Among many things, he inherited the department’s politics, which was a whole hog of mixed hierarchy: middle bosses having higher authority in some cases than directors in other departments because their own directors held more power.

Hey, I didn’t say mine wasn’t a big company. It was one of the largest, if you think hard enough, I’m sure you know where I work.

It was extremely weird how the TWO bosses managed to chap-jit-kah in. First, there was already a middle boss for Keisha and Jane, the Scot. Apparently the director from another department wanted to move the whole technology section undertaken by the 3 over to his own side for his own purpose (ie. Drive his own department research). Our BB, for all his golfing ways, had at least been very clear that the whole department should not be split up, and was sufficiently unafraid of that director, since he had clout of his own.

And then, call it conspiracy or plain coincidence, BB suddenly declared he was transferred to another place with less work and confessed his deep yearning for more time of his own. He gave us all a big pat on the back, a good increment and Ed, whom we have never seen before.

Then almost immediately, the director-from-the-other-department released his favourite TWO middle bosses into our midst and expertly whinge out the Scotsman. Within 3 months, Jane and Keisha had been physically moved from our office and the lab had been dismantled and assembled 7 floors up.

That had been the turning point for me. For a while everyone of us ikan billis struggled to keep a happy face, it was definitely a time of great unrest and lots of change. We had a mini party to celebrate the gals’ move ‘Up-the-ladder’ and everyone took a tour of their new lab space and cubicle. We joked that at least now they could see the sun (no surprises for guessing which level we worked in). I folded 2 pairs of origami mandarin ducks for them for love and romance luck, then feng-shui their cubicle so the ducks were placed in the right direction.

For a while, they joined us for our lunches, a communal activity which we never stopped practising.

Then they came less and less. Their work piled up. The TWO bosses started working them real hard. They came to work earlier and earlier (7.30am) and left later and later (9pm). The stories started coming, not from the gals, but from ikan billis in the other departments, saying these 2 bosses worked like a demolition team, they bulldoze anyone who steps in their way. And I’m sure you ask, why 2?

Ah…because they are a husband and wife team. They always did things together. Too bad they still charge double salary. In any ordinary organisation, unless it’s family, I’ve never heard of such a situation, another indication to tell you where I’m working at. For purposes of convenience, since they are a couple, I’ve taken the liberty of putting their initials together to give them a collective name here. It’s really not my fault that one is called Kindermann and the other is Norse (sirname). It would not be too much also to ask if they had carved their initials on a tree somewhere in Jolly England, where they crawled from, encased in a heart, the initials KNN, but it would be much too much to hope they had ever been young, much less have romance in their gritty soul.

It was good to know that the hokkien dialect can transcend language and geography to describe so succinctly, the essence of these two, in their names alone. I bow to the superiority of the Hokkien dialect and am proud to be one. Long live the colourful language.

Emails came in hard and fast from KNN after that, stating that the 7th floor lab under restricted entry and if any of us wants to visit, we’d have to call KNN to open the door for us. Then came the email from Jane and Keisha pleading that all emails work-related are to be sent to KNN, without CC-ing them. Because, in the words of both, ‘They want to know everything and they don’t like us to know anything that they knew.’ Now whenever we call them using the lab line for work issues, KNN picks up the phone with a stony ‘yes?’.

‘erm.’ The ikan billis will quake. ‘Can I speak with Jane? There’s a delivery order for the lab concerning the new fridge and she is the purchaser.’

‘no, you can’t.’

Simple as that.

‘Er.’ And the Ikan billis gulped, but she rallies, ‘Is she busy? Because this is important.’

A pause, then…

‘Yes, she’s been really busy. She’ll only be free next month. In fact, both the gals are up to their necks in work and I’d appreciate you not bothering them with such unnecessary details. You can pass me the problem.’

‘Erm…erm….’

‘Right. Just email me the details. Good bye.’ Click.

Jane and Keisha have been relegated to menial workers with no voices. On the rare occasion when they did come down to get some items that had left during the move, everyone would stop work and ask them how they were. But just by looking at them, we didn’t have to ask. In that short time, they had lost a lot of weight, they had dark circles under their eyes and they look malnourished. Keisha's ribs had come out. Now, even PPQ is silent and no longer ribbing Keisha about weight issues. Jane, who had always been lanky, was now a shadow.

Sitting in Jane's old cubicle, hidden from the crowd, I cried that day.

====================================

Oh well, I guess today’s post will become a 2-3 parter after all. They will cover the following issue.
1. How a boycott started, how a team building issue became a contension. How Jane has now stpped all communication with me and we are no longer frens. How one half of the KNN eventually became our supervisor. How Ed may be leaving...

Yup, you heard right. Life as Ikan Bilis....crap.

That’s it for now, I think. It will only get worse, so for those looking for happy fluffy stuff to read about, try not to click in for this month.

Thanks all.

Out,
AKK

World is such a small place...

2008-03-18T16:55:00.003+08:00

Hi all!

I know I MIA, but seriously hor, it’s because I was really really really (!) busy leh. In fact, I was actually doing work! You know, that thing that ppl do in order to get money? In fact, part of the reason I didn’t blog was because of some internal re-structuring occurring in the company and we are all doing real work, fake work and picking up after everybody kinda work, so long as you look busy, just in case the re-sturcturing doesn’t include your name on its list.

I just had to share this though, because it is not actually the coincidental-ness of the whole thing. It was more like the thinking process of it. Most ppl always wonder about a thought and ask, ‘hmm…where did that come from?’ But no, not me! For better or worse, I’m blessed with the kind of thought process that I actually track to arriving at an answer. Here’s an example:

Walking towards the entrance of RafflesCity --> see Robinson --> think about last time, it wasn’t Robinsons that stood there, but SOGO --> reminisce a bit about SOGO--> remember the logo of SOGO , which is a blue bow --> shape of the bow look like sweet --> want eat sweet --> reminisce about the Marks & Spencers that is now occupied by Body Shop --> think about my fav M&S sweet --> wine gums, fruit gums, toffee crunch --> Go Jason’s buy sweet --> eat sweet --> M&S sweet nicer --> Stone.

Back to the story: So I actually went to the US for a short conference. It was a single stopover from Seoul. Hubby A tagged along to keep me company, thank goodness for him.

And the world was so small that when I was lining up at the departure gate at Changi, a shadow loomed over me, and I found that this really tall man in a suit was blocking the white lights, his back towards me. Oh man, his back view looked really familiar. And there I was, trying to take a peek at his face, I was pretty sure I knew this person. The worse thing was that he was gripping a cup of coffee, and I was sure that person whom I think he is likes his kopi too.

So there I was considering all my options and the thought process starts whirring away….
a) Tap his shoulder?
b) Accidentally knock into him so he’ll turn around?
c) Jab his expensive leather shoes and ankles with my rolling luggage?
d) Throw my sweater onto the floor beside him so he’ll bend down and pick it up same time with me? If you don’t remember this trick, you were too young to have seen that parfum spray commercial about 15 yrs ago….
e) Have a coughing fit.
f) Sms that Fren’s HP and scare him Enemy-of-the-State-Style with ‘Fren, don’t lim another sip of kopi if you don’t want the whole world to know how loud you gargle, because there’s a bug in your wedding ring….’
g) Just bloody call him on his HP.

Imagine how tired I was having all these suggestions running through my head and still in the meanwhile, that idiot just won’t turn around and save me from doing anything stupid…. A had one eyebrow risen, looking at me typing on the HP and taking off my sweater at the same time, ‘ahem’ing all the way.

And then….and then…….. the shadow changed….

And the moment how we said ‘hi’ shall forever escape my memory.

----_______----

The reason why the entry was so late was because while I absolutely remembered all the tactics doing a cross-country in my brain, I absolutely forgot what happened the next few minutes.

Was it that horrendous that I choose to forget? Cannot be leh, can it? Because he is still responding on MSN, so shouldn’t be that bad. Right?

Like the comic strip with the middle panel missing, I went from having a war with my sweater, coughing TB-coughs to sitting sandwiched between Meepok and A waiting for boarding.

In any case, it’s really Meepok. The long-distance runner with the go-li eyes who succeeded in pacing pass the lao-ah-pek at the Standard Chartered Race in 2006.

One thing I remembered though. When he saw me, he immediately checked his flight ticket to see if it was the right plane…..

Choujidan ….

Out!

AKK

More Tears over Scrambled Eggs...

2008-01-15T22:03:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

I’m now back at my old home, sitting on the floor of Chwee Kueh’s room, enjoying the aircon and his collection of sad Chinese love songs blaring away. Essentially, I’m resting and my heart’s been peaceful for the past few hours, thanks to my family members' proximity and my mum's double-boiled soup.

I know I don’t talk much about the sadder aspects of my Life that i encounter, usually because I think its boring and it ain’t funny, so there’s no point.

But today, I’ve decided to break this rule a little bit and let some seep through. It’s my gal fren. I believe I have featured her here before under Tears over Scrambled Eggs. She’s that fren of mine who’s got those great legs and loves her hubby.

Sometimes the conversations are too long to remember and too sad to recall, so here are some of the snippets of the many long conversations we’ve have had since the fateful day she decided to open up. I appreciate that you guys really do care and am surprised by some of the comments I’ve been getting for that entry. But its true that during that time, you can call it an isolated incident and dismiss it.

Well, unfortunately, now you can’t. Not when things are going from bad to worse.

Here’s a summary of the things that have been going on. Firstly, as I said, the 2 of us are very similar, we got married pretty early and had a great start ie, a career, a loving husband, a car. We studied a lot and made the best of our education.

Of cos the big question is a big fat ‘So What?’

Since they were married, the husband has been a successful public servant. Successful is easy to explain in civil service terms, it just meant he can do his job and is more capable than normal and commands the respect of his subordinates. He himself is a cheerful and forceful person who believed the world his oyster. To give him his due, the turnover rate at his department tripled after he left because there was no morale left.

Then the bad stuff began to happen. To say he was ill-prepared wasn’t really true. Academically he had a double masters (he is indeed an LKY-loyalist), but socially, he did not expect to meet head-on rejection from companies who tell him he had ‘no experience’, too ‘academically-senior’, ‘post too junior’, ‘overqualified’, ‘jobscope don’t fit your resume’. One of the worse was definitely ‘sorry, but we have had some bad experience with ex-government employee, I’m afraid we cannot consider you.’

Meanwhile, my fren held the fort by working and saving, and watched her once happy and optimistic husband transform into a bitter, haunted man.

When he finally got a job offer after 6 months, they were both overjoyed. But it turns out the female was a witch and working for her was, in his words, ‘horrific’. Then came their first quarrel. It was over money and over sacrifices.

'But Dear, we need the money.’

‘I cannot stand being there anymore! Can you understand the torture having to del with her everyday?’

‘But, the money…’

‘The money, the money!! Is that all you ever think about?!! What about me?’

‘Well, at least stay till you get another job. I’m not earning enough for the both of us.’

‘No, I can’t! I can’t stay another day!’

‘Why can’t you be Stronger!’

‘Why can’t you Understand!?”

‘But I do understand! I understand that you are NOT willing to just stick around and earn the money that we need.’

‘I don’t want that bitch’s money!’

‘Well, I want! We NEED IT!!

‘Shut up! Just SHUT UP! If you love me, you’ll support me!’

So the ultimatum came out in a burst of all that anger. Unwilling, but not knowing what to do, she dried her tears and said, ‘of cos I love you.’ Then they kissed and made up. He quit and the witch docked his pay. They were now back to square one.

On the surface was a happy cheerful couple who loved each other, but the rot has started invading. The only blessing they had was that both their families were healthy, happy and independent.

The huge relief she felt was gone, all those times when she thought her eyes would brim but couldn’t find a quiet spot in the office for some peace has come back with a vengeance. She started wearing her armor of cheerfulness and cheerleader-mentality again (you can do it, hubby!), and found solace in hope. Hope that things will go well, that things will be OK. She kept up a litany of these sayings both for herself and her husband, who sometimes cried himself to sleep. Thankfully, and this she told me in all honesty, chuckling, ‘At least I’ve finally found that quiet spot in the office. You wouldn’t believe the amount of security cameras they’ve got there!’

Then after another 3 months, he got another offer. She called me up and screamed her joy in my fragile ears. The pay was better and the big boss seemed good. On her part, she had hung on to her own work, it was her first job but she excelled in it enough to get a pay rise. She seldom talked about her work. Her excuse being that my eyes will glaze. The only reference from it I ever got from her was, ‘Some customers can be such jerks, Akk, I wouldn’t know where to start.’

‘This time, I’m sure it’s gonna work!’ She chirped. Then inexplicably and yet, explicably, she broke down when I agreed with her. Yup, it seems all good, I said to her.

I would love to end the story here, to give you all a great ending. I’d love to say that she’s happier than she’s ever been, that her hubby’s doing well and so is she. I’d like to say to you readers what she used to tell me after every call, that finally everything’s going to be OK, everything’s going to be fine.

This time he lasted 4 months. There was no quarrel, just an amicable discussion that if he stayed there any longer, he’ll become a shell of himself. Does she want to have him wake up every morning depressed and emotionally wrought, to go against himself, just so that he could bring home the bacon, or does she want him to retain his sanity?

And she, who has been suffering already from his bouts of depression and hopeless anger during those months, gave him a hug and said, in all truthfulness, ‘I don’t think I can be happy if you aren’t.’ He did not note the irony. He left again without another job. They agreed, that while he looked for another job (again), he would try being an insurance agent.

Thankfully, her subconscion somehow had refused to believe her ‘everything will be OK’ self-delusion, so she had been diligently saving as much as she could, because the past few months of unemployment had almost wiped out their joint account savings after it wiped out his.

The past 4 months saw him struggling, both trying to sell insurance and trying to find a job. Its true that he was happier than when he was in the previous company, but she noted, with extreme dejection, that he did not seem to be selling much insurance although he packed his days meeting people. He was trying his best and doing all the right things, so she did not complain.

And then the day she dreaded came, they had finally used up their joint savings, the bulk of which was hers. Last week, he shame-facedly asked her to settle his credit card bills and car instalments. The car, which was his prized possession, was to be their undoing. One day in the car, he admitted that there were no job offers and she tentatively asked him if he could let go of the car or sell the house.

‘What do you mean?’ his voice grew cold.

‘We can’t afford the car and house anymore.’

‘We’ll need to top-up even if I sell the car now.’

‘No, I meant to sell the car and use public transport.’

‘What happen to your ‘everything’s going to be all right'?’ he accused, the air in the car had become frigid.

Then before she could answer, which was just as well, he lost his temper.

‘Do you know how little confidence and self-worth I have left in myself? How can you ask me to sell away those very things that at least gave me an indication that I was once successful!’ And he slammed this palms on his steering wheel and shouted while she cried.

‘How could you!!’

‘How could he?’ she moaned to me. ‘My money, he’s using my money…. Soon we’ll have none…’

‘There there….’ I soothed, my own fingers hastily groped for Kleenex while my ear was plastered to the phone.

‘I love him and I hate him! I hate him! I’ve never been this unhappy!’ she wailed while I wiped my own eyes.

‘And I can’t leave him, I don’t have the strength to, I can’t bear to ….Oh Akk,’ she sobbed. ‘What should I do?’

I cried too. What can she do?

I need a breath.

Out,

Akk

Letter to a Friend Vol. 2

2008-01-02T11:38:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Long time no write. I OK lah, no worries, I am AKK afterall. :) Thanks for all the help, encouragement and understanding. Today is thankfully a light-hearted entry, in fact it's a glimpse into my working world, so all the censorship applies. Oh yes, pls excuse my Klatchian, this is how i write my 'fren' emails.....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=

Written to my fren who is now based in New Jersey very recently.......

Dear XXX XXX,

So glad you are having a nice time and that everything over there is very good, minus the sleeping arrangements. Don't care about the guy and do whatever you want. Ay, be careful wor, he is still a man hor, so you bathing or changing clothes must be careful of hidden cameras or peepholes....all men are lechers (Except my hubby)!

In any case, my life is steadily going worse! Could it be that I put my feng shui stuff wrongly? Firstly, big boss keep asking me to change the xxxxxx design, little bit here and little bit there, but to the printer, it's still a totally new pic!! So the printer uncle scolded me because I made him change so many times! Aiyo, so embarrassing, I kept saying sorry sorry, so uncle now qi xiao a bit, so not too bad. They say they can finish the printing by the deadline, pls pray for me leh!

Then my XXX head is as horrible as ever, really all talk and no action you know! I almost burst an artery talking to him! Friday supposed to print the XXXXXX poster to put them up in XXXXXX, but something wrong with our printer, so he say he'll settle it on Monday. I ask him also if he got approval to put up the posters, he say dun have! I ask him to do it about 1 month ago leh! The Bastard!

Then he say he settle the approval on Monday, so I relac and took leave on Monday, when I came back, he print the posters but never ask the approval, and then hor when big boss ask him if he can start selling the XXXXXX, he never think properly through, just say YES! What the -fucking Fucker!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckThe Fucking idiot! He had to tell me that after I saved his arse looking for the ppl to get the approval when I came back on Tuesday. I got the -fucking approval in ONE day! I was so angry! He never do ANYTHING, then anyhow say YES, now must stress for him! The fucking idiot! I tell him cannot becos the XXXXXX not ready! How can he just agree before consulting the committee? We know so much more than him about the going-ons. Then he say boss ask him to market the XXXXXX, I was like HUH??!! Since when the PUBLICITY team need to MARKET the event? It’s the fucking job for the fucking MARKETING team!!!!!

-BEEP-!

And horribly, all these happen yesterday! And I was doing dissection the whole day leh, got no time, only ended at 9pm! The poor mice lor! All 7 of them (I very slow, I know). Then must do all these things, 'nothing' things. Fuck lah.

Then in the midst of all the excitement? We got a fire in XXXXXXX!!! In the middle of cutting mouse no. 4’s stomach, may Buddha rest its tiny soul, there was an alarm, then an announcement. You know how it is lor, 'pls standby for further instructions' the intercom lady said....

But the Lady never got back with her SECOND announcement!!! Wah LAN eh!!!! We all die fiery death in XXXXXXX liao!!! Speculate that the lady ran away without telling us to run away too!

Another &*&^%$ idiot!!!

Okie, my therapy session end liao, gotta go. BTW, I went for the slimming massage, now I got fucking Bruises for thighs....

Seeya!

AKK

I can't talk right now...

2007-12-18T17:15:00.000+08:00

Hi all,

I never intended for this to be a sad blog.

When I was still crushing on my ex, I had 3 volumes of diary filled to the brim with the angst and unspent passions of a pubescent girl in the throes of her first serious crush. When I finally got him after waiting in the wings about 2 years, before finally saying goodbye in the 11th month, I continued the diaries, adding 2 more volumes. Pages and pages of roller-coaster emotions, enough happiness to sing and run around in stormy weather, jumping and laughing and gasping for joyful breath, licking raindrops, then another page dissecting my relationship down to its most miniscule excuses, looking for the reasons why he didn’t want to spent more time with me, what did I do wrong, why am I all empty inside, so on and forth. Pages and pages of guilt, remorse and regret, then anger and denial, then tears and loss.

Then I stopped writing. Because every word hurts. Even the happy ones, the innocent entries starting off with hope of seeing him and going out for a movie, knowing in the next entry, somebody changed his mind about meeting again.

During those days, I wrote because I was too emotional. This unburdening of words will come spewing out like a can of shaken cola, so I wrote to dispel them all in neat little letters or angry scribbles that gashes the pages. I wrote them all down so like snarling animal, I could then lock it all up and put it away, the eminent danger of that choking emotion having no chance to surface in the form of self-mutilation or whatever it was girls do to draw attention away from emotional pain.

Since then, I had found calm and peace. Then later, I found forgiveness and forgetfulness. If not for the diaries, I would be at a loss to remember exactly what happened during those years of my life. Once the worst of the hormones have passed, Life became more tranquil.

I’ve grown up. Happiness is something I’ve always appreciated, whereas happiness was more like a ticket to the moon previously, happiness now is like a cup of hot coffee in your hands whilst standing in cold weather. So equally does the sadness melt from an angry funeral pyre to smothering ashes.

I digress again, as usual.

What I meant to say is:

I’m glad I’m grown up.
I’m glad I don’t feel bone-crushing emotions anymore.
I’m glad I’m now in control.

What I really meant to say is:

There is a crack in AKK’s Life. Always has been, just never written down, not even said.

Like my diaries, perhaps the next entry will be a happier one.

I never intended for this to be a sad blog.

Sorry.

Love, AKK

The Phone Call

2007-10-07T12:28:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Truth to tell, life has been a little more than hectic. I’m very sure that work is now under control, but in the meantime I’m studying after office hours. Actually, I’m sure that’s under control too. So I guess it must be the 7 games of scrabbles I’ve been playing on Facebook, which is not allowing me to blog as much. I’m still heady from earning 77pts for the word ‘moorier’ which I didn’t even knew existed

But hey, not to worry! While I was away on hiatus, I’ve been collecting pieces of short stories to revile you with.

Story 1: The phone call.

A typical day in the office, camera sweeps the room on a Monday morning, which is starting to bustle for the day’s activity and lands on an empty cubicle filled with unwashed cups and coffee dregs. The telephone rings, but no one is there to pick up AKK’s call. The other colleagues have their own lines. After a while, the telephone goes silent and in a sudden burst of flurry, AKK rushes into the office cubicle to dump her bag and hastily picked up her office phone, after dropping it once.

‘Hello hello?’ the other end is silent. And then there was a buzz emanating from the bag AKK has just dumped onto the floor.

‘Jidan!’ and the next flurry of movement saw her smashing the office phone back and rammaging through…

‘Hi!’ the handphone was unclamped and jammed to her head.

A familiar voice came through tentatively

‘May I speak with AKK? Ed here.’

AKK heaved a huge sigh of relief. It wasn’t a customer, Fren Ed had been chatting with her on msn yesterday.

‘Ohhhh hi…it’s you! Been looking for you!’

‘You have?’ an curious uplift in the voice. ‘good, been looking for you too, you have time to spare?’

‘Sure sure! I’m going to the toilet, so no prob.’

‘Er….i dun need to know that.’

‘That’s what I usually say if I need a break lah, no worries.’

‘Really?’

‘All the time, man. So what’s up?’

‘I need a favour.’

‘Sure. What do you need?’

A sense of foreboding crept through while AKK’s mouth rambles on, she is vaguely aware that her peanut cranium, usually sluggish pre-kopi, is starting to warm up and run. Something’s happening here, but she isn’t registering yet.

‘I need you to write a memo.’

‘Memo? What memo?’ the brain decides to revved up suddenly. And a flood of ESP subconscion decides to finger itself out through her head.

The voice paused, as if realizing something is wrong also, then responded slowly, as if testing out an idea.

‘Erm, I need you to write a memo…for your project….’

An extra large finger flicked AKK’s grey matter with a huge TONK!

A nail falls and a bulb lit up. The sense of foreboding casts its net and envelopes AKK like spidey’s web with unadultered anxiety.

‘Memo....’ I quavered. ‘A memo, for my project? As in, work project?’

There was a smile underneath that tone. It had figured out and was enjoying the moment.

‘Of cos. Was there another project? I don’t remember giving you more than one.’

And then,

'Big Boss? Is that you?'

A sigh. "Yes, AKK, it's your BIG boss calling you.'

‘DIRECTOR! Oh, I’m so sorry! I thought you were my fren! I’ve got a lot of Ed names called frens, ‘ I cringed. ‘I mean, fren names called Ed……oh I’m so sorry!!!!! Oh my God, no wonder you were directed from the office phone ’ I wailed, the past 3 minutes running through and snippets of conversation screaming behind AKK's sockets. ‘I knew there was something wrong about this call!’

A chuckle. ‘That’s ok. So can you finish the memo by 5 pm today?’

Another wave of embarrassment threaten to sink her.

‘Sorry sorry. Oh my God…I really didn’t think….I mean …..You sound just like my fren……. ‘ AKK sputters, then paused and finally got a grip on herself.

She cleared her throat.

‘Yessir. You’ll have it on your table by 4pm today.’ The tone was cool, calm and collected, exactly opposite to her gushing, bleeding, humiliated heart.

‘Wow, what a big change! OK, thanks. I hope you enjoyed this toilet break! Bye!’ And the line went as dead as AKK’s professional reputation.

The camera finishes its round of the office atmosphere, then refocuses on one worker as she unglued her handphone from her ears. If this were a silent show, she would have won grammys for her facial depiction under the category of ‘hearing bad news’. Life can be cruelly funny sometimes.

Light dims out.

OUT!

Next up is Keisha’s (PPQ series) crush!

It's all about the letter 'B', voice blog vol. 8

2007-08-11T14:03:00.000+08:00

Hi all!!

Long time no write! sorry siah, as you know lah....been busy with loads of things lah, mostly work and Life, so ah...either didn't have the time to write or else busy until never communicate with my frens and office ppl long enough to have something interesting other than work work and wmore work.

But hey! Today's different! I've done a VOICE BLOG cos its so much easier to say what i wanted to write. In order not to give anything away, i'd rather not mention anything about it here, so just pls go to this VOICE BLOG and enjoy yourself.

Caution: It's a bit long, but be patient cos it's always funnier towards the end. :)

That's all, guys!

Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 12

2007-07-08T23:44:00.000+08:00

EDIT: The link was faulty, thanks to Desparate Addict for pointing it out. Solved liao, the link is actually about this male colleague that I was slightly crushing becuase of his lovely voice (point 4)

Hi all!

I sure bet you guys are surprised that there is another PPQ entry after the whole fiasco. Well, me too! But this time, it ain’t connected to LK liao and is just an episode by itself (I hope), otherwise the whole world should just end right about now.

The night was young when we gathered at the Balcony. The whole office was out to celebrate their performance bonus and also as a belated birthday treat to that cute Scottish guy (close to 50) whom I’d earlier talked about.

The Balcony had a great décor, which is the only thing I like about the place. The drinks were over-priced and horrors of horros, they did not have Frangelico, something I had come to accept as the rule of thumb that all ‘gold standard’ pubs should have, even if the bartender didn’t know he had it, which was what happened in IndoChine, heng for my fren’s sharp eye in locating the bottle hidden behind the Kahlua.

And best, the waitress was a young, pretty and slim affair in tight jeans and a shirt with a bad attitude and bored expression. I hate seeing these waitresses, you know? They have this ‘it’s-because-there’s-no-ang-mohs-around-so-I’m-taking-your-orders’ kinda look. She’s even less friendly than the door bitch, who actually smiled and welcomed a 20-strong bunch. OK, I know the Singaporeans don’t tip, but with the waitress (I’m-cerified-SPG) demeanor, we wun be tipping even if it’s customary. Hell, I’d charge them 5% for bad service. I mean, look at us!! We are peace-loving, law-abiding, even boring scientific personnel who won’t ever give you lip. We may all look fricking poor and unable to pay for that 1-for-1 1/2pint of Heineken, but that’s only because we just came from a biohazard warzone and don’t want to ruin our French cuffs and tarnish our Silver.

As if on cue, I was slated as the spokesperson for the group, since I have a carrying voice and can call up an octave higher than the boombox to get myself heard in any circumstance. So imagine my absolute chagrin having to deal with a sour face and rallying the large group to decide on their drinks quickly.

In the midst where everyone give their orders while the waitress’ face grew more sour at the load she had to carry, I took a quick look to survey my office group. Somehow the males and females found themselves all sitting in perfect symmetry around the round table like a split piechart depicting gender, with me right in the middle of the gals.

Then I heard this high-pitched giggle that was even more grating than my best Mariah Carey impersonation. I turned away from the bored face taking down the orders to note that discord.

It may be by chance, but PPQ is right where the split had ocurred and was seated beside that Scottish ang moh, giggling hysterically at something he said.

My mood soured like the waitress’ expression.

I snapped, ‘Has everyone ordered?’

A chorus of ‘Yes, Ma’am’, ‘Of cos, bring on the booze!’, ‘Yuppers!’ and ‘Aye’ went through the crowd.

All except the one I had my eyes trained on.

She was still giggling about God-Knows-What and was totally oblivious to my question, batting her expressive eyes at Mr Scottish Brogue.

Geez….someone save me from having to deal with her.

I snapped more loudly, ‘PPQ! Have you ordered?’

Already 1 cocktail above par before we even started drinking, her eyes were doing their usual yuan-liu-liu dew-drop-look I’d come to abhor on the unsuspecting Ang-moh, until Keisha elbowed her, rather sharply, I might add, and shoved the menu into her hands.

I was contemplating slapping my palm to my face while PPQ picked up the drinks menu as if she’d never seen before and opened it, all the while exclaiming in her ingratiatingly sweet-16 high pitched falsetto, ‘Oh …My …God! Have you all ordered?! Oh! I’m so sorry! Oh I didn’t Know! Sorry, AKK! Oh No! Whatever shall I drink?! So many Choices?! OH! OH!….’

I gritted my teeth when she went on auto-pilot, her Damsel-in-distress, perplexed voice and actions, eyes shining from some inner pain at the choice of so many drinks, and the bafflement of having to make a decision…’ Oh! Oh! I can’t decide!’

This went on for like 10 seconds…Oh! Which drink shall I choose?! Oh! OH!!....which in the beat of a pub or club, considered to be a million years too long a drag of the waitress’ time and my own patience.

‘Kuai dian lah!’ I snapped again. It was that or reach over and throttle her fat neck.

And to think that earlier when in the MRT, I actually deigned to make small talk with her because of the rule of proximity. I mean, you can hardly ignore her when the MRT after-office hour crush made sure the 2 of you were nose to nose at the same metal bar.

Quick! Something nice to say, my Social Ettiquette decided to take order from my Tih Kong side. A digression here: other people have the angel and the devil on their shoulders to guide their choices, I’ve got my Tih-kong and the Yan Luo Wang.

‘Er…that’s a nice dress you’ve got on.’ I spoke to her, slowly, as if listening to an inner voice. ‘It made you.... look slim.’ My Social Ettiquette sang my praises and gave me A++ to report to Tih-Kong.

‘Oh, thank you! What a nice thing to say! But it is true that I have slimmed down a bit! In fact, I..’ and she went on. After a while, I re-affirmed why I decided not to be her friend. I can’t deal with a self-centered person or rely on one. It is that simple.

Then of cos the inevitable happened, while Keisha begins to join the waitress in rolling her eyes, and PPQ worked herself into a hysterics over 3 running pages of strange drinks, Mr Scottish Brogue cuts in gently and asked in his lilting brogue.

‘How about Heineken? It’s a good beer. They are having a 1-for-1.’

The Crouching Tiger in me growled. It’s not that I’m jealous, seriously, it’s the inability of men to not fall for these types of displays, be they young or old.

I guess we should all have foreseen it, especially for someone as starved of attention as PPQ, but you see, in the company we are all Ikan Billis under division bosses and Mr Scottish Brogue is Keisha and Jane’s BOSS. So at the very least, I take it that a big huge fricking Golden Rule would be that there’s always a limit to who you should or shouldn’t target on professionally.

The next few hours after that made me cringe and shudder, and it all started because of 1 single detail. PPQ, upon hearing his suggestion, turned 180 degree to bestow him her dazzling liquid eyes of gratitiude for relieving her the duty of thinking, then coiled her arms around his left arms and squeezed it against her tits, the menu falling open on the table-top.

OK, so I was being crude. In other more civilized words, she hugged his arm. All the while exclaiming to a crowd who, for some reason or other, looking all over the place except at her, ‘that is a Great Suggestion. Oh! Oh! I’ll share it with you, I can’t drink so much! Oh! Thank you!’

Mission accomplished, the waitress rolled a final eye and went off, knees creaking. The whole ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than 2-3 minutes, but it felt like I had been subjected to a movie marathon starring PPQ.

As time wore on, the drinks arrived and left, and arrived and left…everyone was in a state of fun, because we had brought cards and were playing happily away. If you don’t look too closely through the inebriated haze of my present company, you won’t actually notice that PPQ had suddenly decided to make Mr Scottish Brogue the center of her Universe, eyes tuned onto him, both looking at each others’ poker cards, deciding to pick or stay. If you immerse yourself in front of the booming speakers, you can safely pretend that the occasional hyena laugh did not, in fact, issue constantly from the right side of the circle.

And while Mr Scottish Brogue is slightly bewildered at the high receptivity of his wit, he was nevertheless undergoing something I’d seen in all the other guys who ever had the pleasure to be bestowed by PPQ’s charms. Now would be the time to tell you that Mr Scottish Brogue is currently single and straight at the age of 50.

After a particularly bad bout of giggling, Jane , keisha and I called a time-out and excused ourselves to go to the ladies.

The first few minutes were carried out in silence while we attended to our ablution, then,

‘Did you see that?! I thought I’d go blind!’

‘Wah lau! I can’t believe she’s trying to hook our boss! Yeuks!’

‘He’s falling for it, argghhh! I thought he had more brains!’

‘Our boss! Our boss!’

‘They’re 20 yrs apart!!!’

‘Stupid woman!’

‘Stupid Man!’

‘Actually , he might not be stupid what, he’s ang-moh leh, they very liberal one.’

‘Helloooo!!! 25 yrs apart? Like twenty-five?? TWENTY-FIVE? She could be his daughter leh.’

‘Haiyah, she may be only 10 yrs old mentally but she technically legal liao, you can’t stop her from hugging his arms and whispering in his ear?’

We all paused for a moment.

‘Choujidan lah, Jane, can you please or not? I escaped here to run away from seeing PPQ repeatedly squeezing closer and closer to him leh, now you make me remember the scene again.’

‘Sorry lah, it’s not easy to forget anyway what. You come here also no use.’

‘Argh,’ Keisha was saying carefully, ‘Are you telling me that basically, it is possible that our boss, might just actually think that PPQ is eligible to take back home?’

‘Of cos, why not?’

‘Yah, of cos, all women have holes, even PPQ.’

There was another pause.

Keisha and Jane companionably put their arms around my shoulder while I clapped a hand to my mouth.

‘Pwah, can see somebody like cannot take it hor.’

‘Your hot hot hubby waiting for you at home not enough ah? Remember leh, You said 25 yrs old difference leh.’

‘Haiyah, it’s not about Mr Scottish Brogue lah, it’s about her lah. Firstly, which guy wouldn’t like a free meal of sweet young corn, right? Secondly hor, and I know you 2 lor, you’ll probably want to make sure nobody gets hurt tonight and already I’m feeling the horrible lousy responsibility liao. I mean, why do I bother right? Why do WE bother? If she wants to lose it tonight, I say let her lah. And if your boss wants her tonight, then OK lor, then I’ll know who he is behind that nice voice liao. Like that, my crush also died early death.’

‘Anyway,’ I mumbled again. ‘Anyone who can’t see her for who she is hor, isn’t worth my time.’

‘Haiyah,’ Keisha’s turn. ‘It’s very easy why we should help whenever we can. Because this here is my boss, I don’t want to lose respect for him if he decides that PPQ is easy prey tonight. I’d rather he don’t do this type of thing in the presence of the whole office. If he likes, he should get-together with her again without our knowledge.’

‘Yup,’ replied Jane. ‘We are essentially helping our boss preserve his own image, even if PPQ doesn’t want hers.’

‘Oh.’ I thought about it. ‘OK then, as long as it’s we’re not helping PPQ for PPQ’s sake.’

With that, we left the restroom.

PPQ was steadily going drunk, even with just a pint of Heineken. So for the rest of the night, Keisha piled PPQ with water while I accompanied her to the restroom, holding her arm. She was only half a pint from being wasted, judging by how she’s walking. Once again, I have this funny feeling that her life till now must have been truly blessed. She seems like an utter walking prey, she’s easy on the eye, can’t take booze but like to go pubs, have absolutely no sense of preservation towards men, can’t think, no brains and yet! She is currently having the time of her life while being take care of by worried people like us, who are having less and less fun with every second.

When time came for us to go home, I was thoroughly awake, sober and feeling instinctively that if the whole world were to be a large party right now, I’d be tidying up in the kitchen while PPQ does the congo line in the throng, splashing champagne all over herself. Such is the luck of the knowing.

On the way home, we send a happily muttering PPQ with some frens staying in the same area off in a cab. Mr Scottish Brogue and I are sharing the same cab due to our proximity. On the trip back, we had a little chat.

‘You know, lass, PPQ is such a great person. I never knew she was so much fun.’

‘Really? Oh, but we are all fun people, actually.’ Just that we don’t normally rub against other people so much, I muttered.

‘She blew me a kiss!’ Mr Scottish brogue’s voice was full of wonderment. ‘Do you think she likes me?’

My goodness, how the mighty have fallen. The final smattering of crushy feeling for his lovely voice curdled like cheese in me. All I could think about was: You’re 50! She’s 26! She can be your daughter!!! Why are you even considering the option?!’

‘PPQ is a very friendly person.’ My voice gave nothing away.

‘Of cos, she is….very!’ his tone took on a reflective tinge. I bet he must be thinking of his left arm right now.

I wished the driver to drive faster so I could leave the car before he goes under. We have heard from others that while he holds his drinks very well, he tends to open up very fast under alcohol and laments consistently about his singlehood.

And then, without preamble, ‘I’ve been lonely for 10 years.’ His hush puppy eyes grew sad.

I was prepared for this though, ‘No worries lah, I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. With a voice like that, gals find it hard to resist!’

He chuckled and said, ‘you’re a bomb, AKK, making an old man like me happy.’

Another ruminative 5 minutes passed in the cab while I feverishly wished the wheels to grow wings.

And then, ‘Are you a friend, AKK?’

‘Hmm…I don’t see why not I’m not a friend to you actually.’

‘Because sometimes I think I always mistake people’s friendship for interest, you know? I get foolish as I get older. I mix things up and hope too much.’

‘Well, most times, relationships do come from being friends first.’

I noted a distinct change in the air as I said that. Mr Scottish Brogue regarded me seriously in the darkness of the cab as we sped through the city lamps, flicking light through the windows.

Then he said, in that Scottish brogue that I used to like a lot for, but which has since today ceased to amuse, ‘AKK, do you think a relationship can come from this friendship?’

I looked him directly in the eye. By now, I was sure the cab driver is cocking a ear to our conversation, which was the reason he was weaving slightly and picking up speed to get me home first.

‘You know what?’ I said very gently, to this lonely man, with his twinkling eyes and melodic voice, now turned serious in his plea for companionship. ‘I think that a friendship……..is much much more important than a relationship. Jane and Keisha and me are here for you because you are our friend.’ I emphasized the point.

The taxi cruised to a stop. I’d arrived home. I said goodbye and got off the cab, leaving a decidedly more dejected Scotsman than before and returned home to my husband, whereupon I told him every single thing, even re-enacting PPQ’s voice and hyena act and finally the conversation on the trip back.

A took it all into his stride, laughed when the entertainment was on and patted me on the head for my reply, then we tucked in and bed down for the night.

A is my best friend. There is no other friendship I’d like to turn into a relationship anymore.

Out,

AKK :)

Tired....

2007-06-28T22:10:00.000+08:00

Dear all,

Look, I know I've neglecting my blog....

But....but....

I'm tired....so tired.... Been working so hard... We had a change of bosses here....so everyone's jobscope has been re-arranged, streamlined and categorised....

It's not that I don't like my job. It's just that I love playing more. It's not that i dun love the projects I'm spearheading, it's having to deal with group members that I abhor...

I mean...sometimes, you just wished you have 10 pairs of hands, 3 brains and 4 PCs to type away, without having to handle and manage team members....

Oh well, what to do? I took their pay increment and performance bonus and renewed my contract....

Looks like I'll be around there for a while....

see ya all and miss ya....*sniff*

AKK

Waxing Lyrical Over Small things Vol 1

2007-05-24T10:05:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Recently I’ve been in a poetic mood. Not the Robert Burn ‘my love is like a red red rose’ kind, but rather the retro Haiku mood, which is ancient, but like platform wedges, are flying the high wave in comtemporary literature. Since my relationship with alcohol is starting to turn into a soppy love, and however much I always thought poems are too drippy, I have succumbed enough to wax lyrical over it. And since we are at it, why not just continue?

A haiku is a basic 5 syllabus-7 syllabus-5 syllabus poem, which can be adapted to different syllabus length for English, as long as the alternate lines have the same number of syllabus. Hence, 3-5-3, 7-5-7, etc etc are all viable. Usually Haikus are used for everyday occurrences with the last sentence slightly incongruent to the subject and yet able to sum up the earlier 2 sentences appropriately. But that said, it doesn't mean I can do it, and most common haikus don't, but they still read fine.

It’s terrible if you are forced to do it during lit class, but amazingly easy when there’s no pressure. I welcome anyone to pen a short haiku in this entry. I also think Haikus are here to stay, so expect more in the future.

For now, there’s my ode (5-7-5) to the amazing Chocolate Cake shooter, a recipe brought back by JayWalk from the Land of Dragons. No, it did not come from the Land of Dragons, it came from this ang-moh guy in the land of dra.....ok, i was a bit hazy on the details after my 3rd....

Pass the lips and down

Sugar-coated lemon wedge

One shot to Heaven

And here’s another one (7-5-7) when I encountered a super-shitty workday. R(A), you have been warned:

Had a God-awful Monday

4 more days to go

Kan Nee Na Beh Chao Ch** B**

For today’s entry, what less but to expound about myself?

Ode to Ang Ku Kueh:

Peanut Paste Pastry

Eaten past its Sell-by Date

Emergency Room

Anyone for haiku? How about one about your blog nick? Be sure to tell me!

Out!

AKK :)

Tears over Scrambled Eggs....

2007-05-19T23:21:00.000+08:00

Dear all,

i know lot of people here would like to know lots more details about PPQ and are wondering if the series are going to go on. I promise you, if there’s anything, I’ll be the first to update. Just so that you know, everything’s in real-time, yes? So that means that when nothing happens, nothing gets blogged. And sad to say, for the readers, PPQ has decided that I’m not fit for personal conversations anymore. On my part, my Bacardi days have become less and less, which is good for the pocket and the liver. I’m not sad she doesn’t confide in me. If I was, it’ll only be because I couldn’t write more about her in my blog. What kind of person would I be, yea?

Yesterday, I went out on date with a bunch of people I had not seen in a while. I was enjoying myself immensely and increasingly with every alcohol, so when my handphone beeped today morning, I was under the covers still and trying to swat it.

It was a female friend and since her voice sounded a bit quavery, I gave a groan and forced myself to wake up. When I called her back 10 minutes later, she sounded normal again.

Why, gal? What’s wrong? I asked her.

It’s nothing, she replied, I think I just called on the whim. We’ve not met a while, how are you?

So far so good, but come on, I know something’s up. Care to spill?

There was a sigh from the other end.

Ok, but when I’m finished, don’t hold it against anyone.

Woah, sounds bad. Ok I promise.

You know yesterday you were calling me to ask me where I was? Actually I was right in the heart of Clarke Quay, in XYZ pub.

Really? Then why didn’t you tell me? I was at ABC, I could have met you up!

Aiyah, I was with frens mah. Listen to me first, can?

Okok, sorli sorli, do go on.

You know how it is rite? My hubby nowadays very busy, doesn’t have much time for me. So I’ve been going out a bit more often and meeting up with frens. Then yesterday nite, I was feeling quite buzzed. My frens called other frens who called others so it turned out to be a really big crowd all sitting together.

Yah, and then?

So of cos, everyone got passed around from known to unknown, trying to make frens etc etc.

Uh-huh, I replied, thinking about my own gathering yesterday. Did something happen?

Nah….only that I got a few people trying to hook me. I was wearing a short skirt.

Hehehhe….that’s hardly surprising. I imagine her long legs, usually encased in loose jeans, clad in a short skirt. Any number of guys would go panting after her. But like me, she married pretty early.

So what? That's all you want to say? You called me early just to tell me you scored a few guys' business cards?

No, Akk, will you just listen?

OK OK….sorli sorli….go on pls.

Akk, I haven't felt this good in a long while. Haven't been out like this, doing the 'pub rounds' since I left PR. It's like all these are new to me and I'm this green gal happily sucking up the attention…..I felt so flattered…

And?

And….and this morning, I woke up bright and cheerful and happy. So this was how I felt when I made breakfast for hubby.

And?

So when he was watching the news and reading his papers in the living room, I just asked him from the kitchen, would you like toast or cereal, he said toast. I asked would he like eggs, he said yes and then I asked him if he's them scrambled and soft-boiled, he said.....

What did he say?

The hitch in her voice came back again.

He said, any damn eggs will do, why you want to shoot me so many questions in the morning? Why can't you shut up?

Oh...

Akk, her voice sounded dangerously hoarse now. My heart just suddenly lurched and it hurt. Just standing in the kitchen, with a saucepan in one hand, eggs in the other, I just started tearing up. All I could think about was that I'm the greatest wife in the world, that I don't care that guys still try to screw me just because I’m a pair of legs but I don't let them, that I think about him all the time and whether his job is working him too hard and that I made myself wake earlier every single day, hangover or not, and worry about his breakfast and whether he prefers his eggs scrambled, hard-boiled or soft!

My friend fell silent after this outburst. I could tell she's crying.

Where is he now? I asked.

Eating breakfast.

And you?

I'm now in the bathroom. She sniffed. I don't care how many business cards I get from cute strangers, I just want him to see me again. He didn’t even blink at my skirt.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. Don't think too much, dearie. Everything's ok, I shushed her with nonsensical words while she snuffled quietly on top of the toilet seat, her husband sittng just a room away, eating his blessed scrambled eggs and toast obliviously.

Why don't you talk to him?

Nah...I can't keep him from his work. He's in a difficult phase now.

We chatted a while till she calmed down long enough to put down the phone and go back to sleep for her hangover.

Hang in there, ok? My parting words for her before she hung up.

Yes, Ma'am. Now I'll go hide my puffy eyes from him, just in case he noticed.

It may not such a bad idea, him noticing.

No, I want him to see me the way those pub guys saw me yesterday.

OK, no yellow-faced fishwife, I agree.

Never! The chirp is back in her voice. Ok, gotta go, thanks for listening.

Anytime for you, dearie. Anytime.

I put down the phone. This friend is fairly special because we are very similar, our circumstances, our age and our personality. Especially our determination to find happiness in everything or anything. Lemonade from lemons and all that crap.

But sometimes, I wonder if it's a good thing. Just yesterday, steps from where my poor fren was, I was also enjoying myself with my own bunch.

‘Wah lau! Take pic with me leh, I want those 2 things inside!’ Those 2 things referring to the 2 mammaries that were, for once, in their life, released from the confines of a wire prison in public. My newly minted Victoria’s secret low-cut top came with insets to take away the necessity of wearing a bra. I can see that my accompanying friend (female) loved them a lot and tried to zoom in to the valley after the pic was taken.

A, on the other hand, didn’t say anything apart from ‘It’s quite nice, dear.’ and ‘Goes with the shoes’, then finally, ‘Time to go or we’ll be late for work.’

Lemons!

But at least he doesn’t scream at me over eggs.

Leomonade!

Sigh.........

OUT!

AKK

Letter to a Friend

2007-05-06T12:23:00.000+08:00

First it started out as a comment on meepok's entry, then it got too long, so I transferred it here. Then the more I wrote, realised it could be meant for all, although of cos it is address to him.

Well, to all you friends and family, yes I know you all are silent readers but I'm not penalising you for not commenting, at least not today, because yesterday was a beautiful but scary day, remember to ask me if I meet up with you.

Guess I don't say it enough and seldom do, but to you, young and old, new and old, siblings, you know who you are, you have been at different times in my life, my support and strength, my joy and laughter, my sarcasm and wit. I remember still, the things you have done for me and will continue to do in future, don't worry. Thank you and love you. My Work is not my Life. You are.

********************************************

Hey Friend,

I really look forward to your entries because it’s so different from my own life. On the other hand, heng I never thought your pasture was greener, just more exciting and can take more pics since you travel so much. I stopped after taking 10 pics of my own machine. There are only so many angles you can take of it. My cubicle has loads of odds and ends of other friends souvenirs when they travel for work, on the contrary, my other friend’s cubicles are missing mine, but grudging put up pics of me posing with my machine. Heh.

My new fridge is still waiting to be filled up with fridge magnets that I vow to buy from any country that I go to. Currently, the uncovered bits stand about 99%, and my large clay mould magnet depicting the Istana takes pride of place over the remaining.

Hope that while u are working your butt off right now, you can then retire early with big big nest and play like siao to make up for it, or at the very least, ZZzzz like siao. Of cos, to spend lots of time with family, that’s a given. But currently, every now and then must slow down a bit and see the sunshine, yes? I know my life is about 100x slower and also about 1500x less important in the workforce of society, but hell, rather take it from a downtown HDB gal still worrying about money, family, work to hearing the same thing from an already ultra successful, can-take-vacation-anytime, can-spend-like-water-anytime, got-golden-family person, yes? Sounds so much more genuine.

Yesterday morning, while I was swimming, there was a circular rainbow surrounding the sun, it was beautiful and completely round. I noticed it only because I had my UV goggles on and while taking a breath during free-style, thwacked my neck. I’ve ever seen it once before and I still remember the year, the time and the place, it was an inspiring phenomenon. I rather hope all my friends saw it, but it was 8.30am in the morning and I bet they are all either sleeping off the booze or sleeping off the fatigue.

I hope u saw it too, but if you didn’t, then at least you know that it has occurred. And while life, work, money, dreams go on and people on the streets throng the traffic and buzz around like busy bees, the sky above creates a circle rainbow in silence.

Look up! :)

Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 11.

2007-05-03T09:20:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Let’s get with the program! A little break from PPQ was just what the doctor ordered, since after the weight incidence, there seem like a complete increase in the number of jabs and jibes going around. As usual, given the circumstance, I’m always half wondering if she was conscious of her speech or is she truly one of Nature’s blinder creatures. Like an earthworm maybe, or a mole, but at least they are useful.

In any case, the episode today is back on track. If this blog were a TV show, there had be a deep manly voice saying, ‘And now! For more of…………. the Adventures of ………….PPQ!!!!’

And a theme song ala the Green Hornet will blare out and then onscreen, large block letters zoomed out accompanied by the same manly voice.

‘The Mystery of the Chinese Takeaway!!!’ It booms.

Yup! It is truly the subtitle for today’s entry. Of cos, taken into the asian context, perhaps it’ll be more appropriate to change it to….

The Mystery of the Hee Teng Ta-Pao!!!!!

Yup again! It’s another fish porridge episode!

Following the dearth of LK’s dramatic confession, I’ve not been in contact with him since he has finished with this side of the work for the time being. Assuring me that he’ll talk to PPQ however, doesn’t mean it’ll take place any time soon. It seemed that since the weight episode, I had become anathema. The subject of weight, which was by far her second most favourite topic, after men/potential boyfriends, has been abruptly trodden for the time being. After the incident where her large face suddenly plastered too close to mine for my comfort, I’d taken to installing a small mirror above my flat screen to monitor my rear end. Every now and then, I can see her take surreptitious glances at me, trying her best to see exactly where 7kg of flesh might have disappeared to in a space of 2 weeks without her knowledge. Other than that, things seemed to have gone to ground.

But during the rest of the week, I caught snatches of conversations between PPQ and the younger colleagues. Not joining the conversation, I nevertheless heard the murmurings of my colleagues. The words ‘LK”, ‘married’, ‘just friends’, any chances?’, ‘no more going out?’ floated out.

In this regard, I found myself incensed with PPQ’s terrible lack of sense and sensibility. Although the whole context was not wholly taken in, I’m pretty sure they were discussing the topic of LK. Following his confession, I felt it was only right to keep this news from the office or those who knows him. If he wanted to share, he can do so himself. But it’s been barely 2 weeks and already news of his married state is being spread around by PPQ herself. I heard the colleagues murmur condolences to her current ‘alone again’ state and commiserating that LK did not seem agreeable to meet up more often as ‘just friends’. I was sure that PPQ did not mean to spread it as a form of malicious gossip, but only as garnishing to her own problems of being ‘dumped’.

Ever since the recent hoo-haas, I’ve also stopped talking to her on a personal level. I just can’t seem to get enough heart and feelings to open my mouth. It is the truth that I no longer wanted to know what’s going on in her life. It bears no significance, no weight, no effect, not even a ripple to my own, since I don’t care for her the way I do the others. It will soon also spell the demise of this series, but at the very least, today’s entry won’t be much of a disappointment. It involves, of all things, very curious bowl of fish porridge (again) and a cup of regular kopi.

I’d like to say that LK and PPQ have it all over between them. Unfortunately, the episode of LK+PPQ hasn’t ended in the murmurings of the office gals. It is true that LK did eventually tell her, once on a Thursday to roughly run over his sob story, then again on a Sunday, for emphasis. All these, I gleaned from LK on one of his visits for another service, spending approximately 5min at the water dispenser filling me in.

To say that PPQ is upset is an understatement, she is back to ground zero ie nobody loves me. But following LK’s advice, she has stopped borrowing those relationship self-help books.

Nowadays she reads How to Say YES! to Life.

You had have thought everything’s finally gone back to normal. So the next few days were a breeze. No jabs, jibes, complaints, or any topics on LK, men, their eligibility or lack of, her eligibility or lack of and of cos, weight, hers and the rest of the office’s. When the end of the week swung around, I actually thought we could all get through this without a peep. To celebrate, I decided to once again attend the card sessions that were held in the office every lunchtime. And so when the freer gals came around to take order for takeways so we can hole up in office, I asked for rice, 2 veg and 1 meat. Another colleague, Penny, gave her order and also PPQ’s order, which she had passed to her before she went to do some lab work.

Half way through working at the PC in the office, I heard Penny received an SMS beep. Immediately after, she called the gals who was catering for us.

‘Hey, listen up! No need buy for PPQ liao. Her secret admirer bought lunch for her already!’ she chimed.

Silence and then, ‘No no, you have to buy for me, but not for PPQ. She got lunch, but you mustn’t forget me! I don’t have secret admirer like her lah!’ she chuckled.

A red loud siren twirling the words ‘Blog Entry Alert!’ flew a merry-go-round my head. I pinged Penny on MSN.

‘Oy Oy, buy lunch for her liao, how to be secret admirer anymore?’

‘Dunno leh. She just SMS me to revert the order.’

‘Orh…so is a guy ah?’ OK, I could have been more subtle….

‘Yah, she say he delivering.’

‘So nice ah? I must see who later.’

‘Heheheh….inform me if hansem hor.’

So ends the msn interlude. Soon the colleague left and I was alone in the office. I clicked on my blog URL.

Just as I was thinking distractedly and touching up on my entry, a sudden tap on my shoulder and a cheerful ‘hi!’ sent me almost scrambling to either topple the PC screen or use my body as a shield.

‘What what?’ I looked around anxiously. I had just used my mirror to check my itchy eyes and then misplaced it flat on the table. LK’s face loomed above it.

Piak! On came the Google default window to cover the familiar green template of akkueh.blogspot.com and I turned around to match him face to face, eye to eye with a suspiciously bright smile.

‘Heyyyyy……!! Long time no see!! How are you doing?’ I noticed 2 cups of coffee in a cardboard holder and a lunch of fish porridge in his hands. A vague idea formed in my mind….. Interesting….

For the sake of things, I asked politely, although I already knew the answer.

‘Who’s the lucky person you bought lunch for?’

He looked at his offerings, then calmly went to PPQ’s table and put the foodstuffs on it. Then he unscrewed a cup of kopi and nursed it in his hands and replied, ‘For PPQ.’

‘Huh? Like that only ah? Elaborate leh.’ I teased

He frowned. ‘No special meaning. She sms me to help her buy lunch. Since I was already out lunching, I replied sure and helped.’

Ho ho ho….someone’s being funny and it’s not him.

I made myself a cup of kopi and asked, ‘You already talked to her, right? I thought you did?’

‘Yup.’

‘Left anything out?’

‘Nope, but it’s a watered down version, none of the dramatics.’

I motioned him to the meeting room. ‘There’s something I need to tell you….’

‘What what? Do I do something wrong again?’ As I kindly ushered him to a seat.

‘Well, you bought lunch for her.’

‘Only cos she asked for it! If I wasn’t eating myself, I wouldn’t have gone any extra mile. Not after talking with her.’

‘So you didn’t sms her and asked her if she’s hungry?’

He was indignant. ‘Unless my HP can type itself, I hardly think so.’

I went for broke. ‘Did you know in our office, we have our own tapao system?’

‘Really? Then why did she sms me?’

A moment of chagrin marched across his face. Then his jaw dropped.

‘Nooooo….’

I grinned. I was enjoying this moment a little too much.

‘Yyyyeeessss….’

‘You sure?’

‘Yup. Today, one order was cancelled at the last moment.’

‘Why?!’

He looked so scared for a moment that I laughed.

‘Be sure to tell me if you dare to ask her.’

He stared at his empty cup of coffee.

‘Great! I thought the whole thing’s solved…I told you I told her twice…First time on Thursday when she called me and second time on Sunday when she came over.’

‘Eh…aftershock?’ I chortled again. An idea occurred. I announced expectantly.

‘In fact, some girls react badly if you rock their world.’

Silence met this statement a moment longer than was necessary. I tried again.

‘As in you? Like when she met you, you Rock her World? And then metaphorically, when you gave her the bad news, you rocked her world again? You know?’ I coughed.

His jaw closed and his eyebrow lifted in a look of disgust.

‘Wah lau! You very corny, you know?’ He burst out.

‘Hur hur hur….thank you thank you. Incidentally, corn don’t have knees, they have ears.’ A memory of some sort was trying to bug me in the last few seconds, but I couldn’t quite catch it.

With that retort, LK grimaced at the chilliness of the joke and whacked me on the shoulder with his empty cup while I laughed away. He grabbed me by the lanyard around my neck to bring me closer to the security door so he could get himself away from me. 5 seconds later, he was out the door and saying goodbye. Through it all, my sub consciousness was screaming at me and trying to get my attention.

Half way down the corridor, it hit me. I ran to a retreating LK.

‘She went over to YOUR PLACE??!!!’ I shouted. The echo sped through the walls. He spun around, startled.

‘Huh?’

‘You said she came over. To your place?’

He relaxed.

‘Hah! I know what you’re thinking! She came but she stayed at the void deck, yes? I didn’t invite her to my place.’

‘Unbelievable….’ I’m trying my best not to think my colleague is completely off her rocker but it’s getting harder everyday.

‘Believe it. This tapao thing isn’t too bad already. When I saw the sms was from her, I was filled with utmost dread, so imagine my happiness when it was just an ordinary request to help get a meal.’

‘Wow…’

‘Gotta go, gal. Before she comes back from her lab. Best to not see her in the next few days. I’ve got work to do.’ Then he spun around and took off.

While I can’t be too sure, I have a feeling that the PPQ series, or at least the LK/PPQ episodes are drawing to a close. LK definitely came off the whole thing the wiser for it, while PPQ remained essentially the same. A bit eccentric, but no less beguiling to other men. Beats me, but I just heard there’s yet another guy going after her. Perhaps one day she may indeed find the one person who suits her. Of cos, he’ll probably be dumber than a puppet with its mouth glued shut and emptier than an open packet of chips in a rat’s nest (I’ve been watching too much Hannah Montana), but hey, there’s one for everyone out there, ya?

Out!

AKK.

Working...

2007-05-01T11:57:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

For those anxious for epi 11, very sorry, I have been working my fucking ass off....

Check back in a few day? or at least till I calm down after labour day......

There's another 24 hr day on the way....

Tired,

AKK :)

Thanks you guys for visiting and those kind words.:)

Let's take a break from PPQ.....

2007-04-21T12:08:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

I found this from Nadnut:

We all have things about our friends that make us slightly envious. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘Wow! I wish I had that person’s boobs/eyes/money/relationship/nose hairs/whatever.’ So tell me what about me makes you envy me. . . then post this in your blog and see what makes me envious of you.

******************

I only realise I have great depths of envy only after commenting on her entry, telling her what I envy about her. A sign of person with low self-esteem.

So trying hard to remember the TS theory, this is a rallying call to those out there who reads me. Is there something you want to tell me?

Let's make it a frank feedback. good stuff and bad stuff, all comments welcome. everyone always needs to hear both sides of a story (although in my blog, its always one-sided).

PPQ series will resume after this message.

OUT!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 10

2007-04-16T10:56:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

As usual, the disclaimer: if you have been reading the series, thanks again. if you have arrived by accident, after a long while, or just passing through, pls click on the right side panel for the start of this series (vol 2 will connect you to vol 1, vol 6 will connect you to all the previous vol on this series). Very sorry about this, but we are in the mid-end of a running series, so there's a lot of character buildup and plot twist, so pls take some time to update from the start. :) Thanks!

It's highly impossible for me to even stick around on anything for so long, so having the PPQ series reach its 10th episode is a wonder in itself to behold, not just its contents.

so while everyone has been faithfully updating on the series, i thank you all. Hope it has been as exciting to read as it is to write.

Without further ado, here's the latest installment.

*************************************

'The weighing machine is spoilt!' came the plaintive wail as i walked over. It was a Wednesday Evening and the office gym was packed with office people trying to get fit. Well, some will walk leisurely and pose in front of the mirror after every pump of the iron, while some, instead on concentrating on their breathing, are furtively looking around the room for someone 'to lend a hand to', it takes all sorts to visit the gym. PPQ, for all her flights of fancy, religiously uses the gym really to get fit. I mean, I think so. Well, what i really think, i probably can't write down or ppl will say I'm biased.

In any case, today is to answer the OTHER question that has not been posted in the previous entry, mainly because our subject wasn't PPQ last time. It's to disclose the 5kg-bag-of-rice-overestimate to our darling innocent. Actually, this episode almost didn't happen. After i had given PPQ the challenge and the hug (which I've been bathing 5 times a day to wash off the imprint unsuccessfully), in typical AKK fashion, I've gotten lazy and tired again. You see, the immediate gratification of emotional uncertainty i bestowed on her had been served, resulting in a sudden accumulation of gym 'hurghh!!!' (pumping grunts) per week, so after the 3rd day seeing her enter the office looking grey-eyed and 'ouching' her way tenderly whenever she moved from her seat, I had naturally felt guilty enough to not go through with the final insult to injure her equally tender emotional status by showing her I wasn't that heavy to begin with.

So this current episode exists because after the Bacardi moment, a close fren of mine, who had been following my series diligently, almost collapsed in agitation when I merely hinted that I was going to be nice about the whole weight issue. After enduring a half-hour of scolding, first on my laziness, then on PPQ's lousy-shame-to-all-women tirade, said fren finally cajoled me by saying that she is much too interested in what PPQ's reaction would be than to worry about the morality of sniggering at other people's weaknesses.

Hence I relented and played out the whole scene with artistic aplomb.

Never let it be said that AKK is a bad fren. The glee that came with it is moot.

Back to the scene of the crime. PPQ's wail carried like a whale's ultrasound. It was too soft and high to be detected in normal-day communication, but its persistent tinny texture grates on the chalkboard of your nerves so much that while you probably missed the dialogue, you can easily detect the buzzing quality fom across the length of the room.

For my part, I had also diligently took up exercising again. It's true that motivation can drive a person to do great things, but motivation from PPQ drove me up the wall. Never had I felt so much energy at the prospect of starting the exercise regime once more. Perhaps anyone would be able to throw off that mantle of disgust, but every single step I pounded onto the treadmill, a litany of 'I want to be smaller than PPQ' rolled off like a tape recorder.

So by the time Wednesday came around (so good I was, I gave her 2 weeks), I was feeling great and happier than ever. seeing her walking over to the scale made my heart leap in joy (and shudder at my fren's chiding). Now's the time.

'What is?' I chirped from behind her. I had been running, I'm sure she smelt me first. PPQ did an impressive pirouette in horror. i must admit that ever since she started irking me, every single action of hers looked over-done and cutesy. She's the equivalent of a wet market Auntie in Ah Lian get-up with full make-up. OK, so I'm getting personal, sue me. Never tarry with a woman's weight.

'Oh Akk,' she breathed, chest heaving in affront. 'I think the scale is spoilt. It's showing the wrong numbers.'

I looked at the electronic scale. It was patiently registering '0' while waiting for a customer.

'I don't see how, it's balanced.' I pointed out.

'I'll show you.' and she stood on it. The electronic numbers jumped to 60kg.

'See?' she exclaimed. 'It's spoilt! a week ago, it showed me 58kg! There must be something wrong. I worked out quite a lot, should have gone down again this week.' Her voice was pitching higher, an indication her Majesty is getting upset.

'I really am 58kg!' As if I didn't believe her. 'Why don't you try it and tell me if it's showing a few kgs heavier. If I remember, you're 57kg, right?'

She remembers! Why am I not surprised?

I shrugged and stood on the scale. Unlike PPQ, I kept all my gear on, shoes, towel and handphone. The numbers whirred and settled, to my delight, on 50kg.

I heard a gasp behind me and had to keep a straight face. It was that or start sniggering. The heavens had suddenly decided to rain lavishly on PPQ's parade. Not only was I a rice-bag lighter, according to the scale, I had gone down another 2. Furthermore, she had apparently gained some since last week.

I turned around. What was on her face was indescribable, like art is sometimes indescribable. Closest I could get? Possibly art by Edvard Munch.

Note the twist of the hips.

The actress in me raised to the occasion. Somehow seeing her overly bewildered look had made me slightly pissed too. What? Like I really don't look my weight at all? Geez....I forced a surprised look that mirrored hers and used the same breathless voice she used on me. If she had been less shocked, she would surely recognise the caricature.

'Oh My GOD!!! I'm so light? It can't be! OH my GOODNESS!' I gushed, pretending to be amazed. Then the metaphoric knife stab. 'Man, I think you are right! The scale doesn't seem very accurate!' I frowned concernedly at her horrific expression.

'We need to tell the trainer.' I continued. 'People can't go around imagining they are heavier or lighter than they should be.' And promptly I left the scene and made a fruitless trip to the staff room and made them fruitlessly switch the machine on and off using, of all things, PPQ as their weighing gauge.

I slipped away to bathe when PPQ got all angry trying to explain away to the staff why she should be 58kg, not 60kg, do you understand me? I did not put on any weight! the scale is still spoilt! And she lost 7kg, how is that possible, your scale is so unreliable!

While things couldn't have ended better in such a cinematic way, I was feeling slightly out-of-sorts the rest of the day. I supposed it's the guilt. I'm not that nice a person, but feeding people their own medicine has made me sick, because some people's medicine are really hard to swallow, even for themselves. While PPQ is probably suffering from the episode, she'll no doubt have learnt at least one thing she should never do. Comparing with others. If I were in her shoes, I'll probably never talk about my weight again and instead quietly lose all my kgs until I can finally fit that dream dress I bought to motivate myself, then go to work in triumph.

So for the next day, Jill and another close colleague, Keisha, after chortling delightfully at my summarised account, began to note a slight droop in my smile, so affected was I. Uncertain of my feelings (probably PMS) and knowing that I was being childish for cranking PPQ up, I kept to myself at the workplace. The self-imposed punishment ended abruptly on day 2 when Jill and Keisha yanked me out from my lab and plonked a bottle of Bacardi raspberry (yay!) unceremoniously on my lap in an undisclosed location (meant for slacking...SSShhhh...).

Then Keisha, the tall Amazon, who can easily fell me with a punch, sat across me in a serious manner and began her story.

***********************************

Keisha was a strapping tall lady with a very well-proportionate figure. And because of her height, she'll never be described as slim or small. She had wide shoulders that would make any model green with envy but meant she only wore size L clothes in the Asian context. To put it as accurately as possible, Keisha is eye-catching because of her height, straight shoulders and toned figure in the local sense. She had that kind of figure most men would look twice in admiration and women to look twice in awe, and not always positively. The word 'petite' will be applied to her only in a Caucasian community. What I am trying to say is: She neither fat nor consumptive. She is just right for her frame, but insipid stoopid Asian women will call her a Giant or simply Large.

And thus, the camera reverses and pans to a scene in the pantry a few months ago before all the hoo-haa started. It arrows in on one such stoopid, insipid woman, who was clueless that she'll be arguing with the weighing scale come the future. If she had known, she might not be snacking so happily on corn chips then.

The issuing conversation occurred when another colleague entered the pantry.

'These corn chips are great! You want some?'

'Oh no! No nachos for me! They just go directly to my hips. I like them so much that once I start, I cannot stop, confirm will turn into an elephant!' joked the slim colleague.

'Nonsense!' exclaimed PPQ, who couldn't stop eating the chips. 'If you are an elephant, I must be a dinosaur.'

On cue, Keisha entered the pantry to see both gals laughing. She smiled and asks, 'What's so funny?'

A sudden burst of more laughter from PPQ, who was clutching her stomach from an inner joke and then...

'Oh wait! If I'm a dinosaur, then what is Keisha?!'

**********************************************

Scene changes back to the present on a half-drunk AKK, a steadily drinking Jill and a slightly doused Keisha at the slacker's corner.

'What indeed!' Keisha huffed, waving her Heineken furiously.

Then she turned on me, who was hooting at her predicament.

'What did you say? What did you say?'

'What can I say, right? Treat the whole thing like a joke lah! Laugh along and say 'must be bigger than dinosaur lor!''

'Aiyo! So lame!'

'I cannot think of anything bigger than a dinosaur what!'

I hooted again. It's true! I myself couldn't think of a bigger animal than a dinosaur.

'Godzilla?' Piped Jill.

'You think I never considered meh? But Godzilla and Dinosaur both same size!Cannot!!' wailed Keisha in mock despair.

'Muahahhaha....' we roared in our chairs.

We laughed ourselves silly till we had no more strength, then packed up the room, removed all evidence of alcoholic involvement and went back to work with clorets in our mouths. I had regained my balance and had forgiven myself. Eating your own mdedicine might be bitter, but dishing it will make you ill.

This episode is dedicated, although they would never know, to Jill, for that slight on singlehood, and to Keisha, the Whale (we finally found one bigger), for that slight on her Amazonite frame.

Thanks for the timely intervention.

OUT!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 9

2007-04-07T17:17:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

For those who just came in, welcome! we are nowin a full fledged running series. so feel free to scroll down for the earlier volumes. from volume 5 onwards, there are links to the first one, so thanks for taking the time to finger-clcik a little while longer.

for those who have been following, here's the latest longest episode yet.

I think you all must be waiting with bated breath to the answers to all your questions about the PPQ stories. Me? I confessed to much glee with the outcome of the series so far. Everything is so beyond expectation that I am absolutely flabbergasted. This episode will be no less dramatic. Please do remember that the whole story is true so far. There’s no addictives, MSG or other artificial colouring and flavouring added to this spicy drama. I swear. I really wouldn’t have cooked up such a storm.

So the following questions which I know you readers are thinking of, because I have thought of them myself, you’ll finally get the answer to. I’m proud to announce that I have diligently taken down all your questions and posted them to him, so it’s straight from the Horse’s mouth, LK himself. Under zero influence and hypnosis somemore! He was most willing to share.

And they are:

1. The reason why he never mentions he’s married till now.

2. Whether he told PPQ he is married.

3. What’s with the flowers on the first date?

4. How does PPQ know about the cookies? This one, I really want to know....

5. What, exactly, does he think of the fish porridge episode?

So the camera pans back to LK and AKK seated across each other over a large expanse of the meeting room table. The Ikea clock ticked its way to 7pm while the scanner hums contentedly in the background, minding its own business. Another 30 minutes and the whole thing will be done and it’ll be time to pack up and go home.

Contrary to popular belief that I’m not cut out for hard work, after the initial first so-called request to extend beyond office hours for LK, I got to entertain a few more other clients with the same treatment. Mainly because they really are nice and their bosses have finally come back from the Spring holidays to bug them about work progress. After a while, I’ve decided to hell with the office hour restrictions. After all, if the hoteliers are serving their customers ‘beyond the call of duty’, I figured that if I’m free that weekday evening, I might as well be putting a few more hours to prevent my clients from crying, which the female ones will do, since the experiment is usually kaput when it’s not ‘run’ on time.

Of cos, once an extension happens, I usually will go back to the office slightly later than usual the next day. At the end of the month, I still manage to churn in a tidy amount of profits just by being flexible with the opening hours, so why not? Boss’ happy that I seem to work longer than usual, clients are happy that their experiments are ‘served’ and I get a few more hours sleep into the morning.

So it’s a typical day at work for me. Just to set the stage, clients either sit with me to check the scan between breaks in the meeting room or to come back to collect when it’s done. LK chose the former so I was sipping my normal evening coffee kindly produced by Jill before she left while he took his lunch/dinner. I have found out that while most of my female clients eat lunch and skip dinner, it’s the other way around for the guys.

It was all good till the issuing spill from the overturned cup of kindness from Jill (hey, it rhymes!). Which left me bereft of fortification in the face of his bald statement and shall I say it, slight anger that he should chose such a moment to enlighten me and make me lose my drink. (see the previous entry)

I pulled away after he gave that cryptic answer. While a part of me is singing the high chorus for this extreme piece of juice sure to spruce up my diary, another part of me was aghast with the thought that this man is trying to play with us all. While I still believe that giving a gal flowers was a great ladykiller move, I don’t think it’s justifiable to do so after said ladykiller is married, yes?

I mean, what is he trying to proof by roping them all up like trophies when he’s obviously not available anymore?

Great! I miss my kopi and I need a Bacardi right now….

‘Why don’t you,’ I put a hand up and put the whole length of the table between us. ‘Tell me the whole story.’

He sighed and leaned back on his chair.

‘I knew people are going to look at me this way the way you are doing right now. It’s hard to change people’s immediate opinion about others.’

I bristled. I was playing the high horse and wasn’t counting on him frankly accusing me of being ‘like the rest’.

‘Sorry.’ I sighed. ‘I promise to keep an open mind.’

‘OK’ he was back to grinning again. ‘The truth is…..well, the truth is that I’m in the midst of separation.’

‘How young are you?!!’ I was aghast. He didn’t look a day over 30 and he’s getting a divorce already??

’28.’

I had a God-awful thought.

‘Oh man, she found out about the flowers, didn’t she? Your flowers for PPQ? Arrghhh….’

He laughed ruefully. ‘Nah, although it would be nice to be the one who hurts, but actually my wife left me.’

‘Why?’ Because you were infidel? But I did not say it out loud.

He crossed his ankles and lean back to stare at the ceiling. This time I would be lying if I didn’t mention that his eyes glimmered in those few short seconds under the lights. At first, I was indignant for myself, wanting to throw him into the mold of a stereotype so he wouldn’t accuse me of being narrow. However, seeing those liquid eyes suddenly brim made me feel like the worst sinner ever.

I have made a grown man tear up.

And then my timer beeped its 15th minute and made me jump in my chair. It was a complete anti-climax, but I leaped up gladly anyway and left him to recover while I check the machine.

By the time I was back, he seemed more normal, like his usual cheery self, although his eyes looked more red than usual. The suaveness had gone from his shoulder. LK has become more human. The chair creaked and he began his story.

It was by all accounts, a very sweet love-gone-wrong story. They met in school real young and spent a decade together as a couple, studying together from JC to Uni, finally accumulating in a wedding after their graduation. Newly wedded, they were poor but ambitious. The girl, in fact, had plans for post graduate studies overseas.

‘To where?’

‘Oxford’ and no less, she said. She wanted the best but wasn’t able to get a scholarship. He was ready to indulge her fully, being the newly blessed man. He never thought they could never work anything out, they had been through lots of thick and thin together. Although the entry fee alone was enough to cripple the couples’ finance, they both took multiple jobs to save. Boosted by his wife’s very obvious ambition to get a doctorate, he plunged in his whole savings into her venture.

‘The money was used for what?!’ I repeated.

‘Meant to pay the tuition fund. I took a scholarship which paid my Uni fees all the way till PHD.’

‘I don’t get it, why is there a need to save money to pay them back when you are on the scholarship?’

‘Because I didn’t want to carry on after graduation and the clause was to pay them back in full if I stop after graduation. Anything after that will be considered bond-breaking’

I gasped. ‘So you gave up the opportunity to buy your way out so she could have her dream.’

‘Yes, I never wanted to be a scholar or a postgraduate. In fact, I always wanted to go into finance, stop all this research thingy.’

‘So now that you are in it, how long is the bond?’

‘6 years, it was a longer version since it was a tuition and research scholarship combined.’

‘Fuck.’ I swore.

‘Yes.’ he agreed somberly. ‘Absolutely fucked up.’

‘You are a damn poor thing.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘So when did you realize something was wrong?’

He shrugged. ‘The usual. We use to hold long distance calls every week. When that got too expensive, we relied on emailing. Then after a while, she said she was on a camping course with the school. Didn’t write for 2 weeks. I believed her.’

‘What was she doing then?’

He ignored my question, eyes glazed in remembrance. ‘Immediately after that, she called me and cried on the phone. I thought she was sick or got into an accident.’

‘She told me she found another guy there. Told me she couldn’t take the distance. She told me she wanted a divorce and then,' He turned his grave eyes at me. I stared back, soaking up the whole story.

‘She told me he was a banker and that I should be happy for her because she did not have to worry about money anymore.’

‘Fuck.’ I swore again. I couldn't help myself.

‘Not really. I would have flown over in another 2 weeks to surprise her. It would have been our 2nd year anniversary. It was good that she told me earlier, I cannot imagine being stranded in a foreign country knowing I wasn’t welcome.’

I sniffed. Sometimes things just have to seen as half-full even when it hurts like blazes.

‘How long has it been?’

He closed his eyes. ‘2 years. I haven’t seen her in a long while. The next trip back, she’ll be here just to sign the papers. I cannot imagine what I’ll do if I were to suddenly see her in front of me again.’

The timer leaped into life, slamming him back into the present and throwing me off my tiny perch on the seat (so engrossed I lean forward too much). Thank goodness for timers! We hurried back to the machine the final time and retrieved the data. I surreptitiously dried my eyes while the CD-R revved to life on the computer. Now I wonder if it would such a good idea to continue with the PPQ series, because it’s so invasive. I feel like a paparazzi who goes around collecting stories of other people’s private life and splashing them like front liners. Who would have thought that LK would turn out to be the one carrying the burden of hurt and anger? Compared to him, PPQ just had a nice walk in the park. Imagine if your other half, someone who pledged his/her whole life to you, turned around and said good riddance, even after you had done everything in your power to pledge your own life to theirs.

I was getting more and more upset. LK apparently send money to her every month as he slogged his way churning out tons of data in my lab, while she was happily studying away in prestigious Oxford and canoodling with a banker. Of all the things to say, she had to talk about money!

‘Oy, hello?’ I started and hastily blinked. I had been staring at the CD-writer till the CD popped out and had made no move to pass the data over to LK. I took it and handed it over while he peered at me closely.

‘There’s no need to get so upset.’

‘I don’t think I have the right to say this, but I think your wife stinks.’ I blurted out.

‘She doesn’t! Don’t say that!’ It was LK's turn to bristle. 'I didn’t tell you this so you can pin all the blame on her for our failed marriage. We got together too soon and married too early, we were both too young and I was too naïve. It takes two hands to clap.’

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ I apologized, all contrite. Things just happen sometimes. Perhaps it was the best course of action for all. Everyone moves on. At least she wasn’t cheating on him. He didn’t have to know anything but she told him anyway.

He smiled. ‘That’s why I tell you.’

‘What? Tell what?’

‘About this. At least you listened. I don’t want friends to drum up a personal vendetta against her just because I’m the one being dumped. It’s been better for me now. After a year, everyone starts forgetting the story and stopped looking at me with sadness. It’s easier to go through the motions everyday that passes.’

‘So I take it you did not tell PPQ?’ The journalist in me is remembering all the questions posted.

‘Right. About PPQ. To tell the truth, when I saw her at the seminar, I thought she just might be somebody who could be special to me. And knowing we are all connected made it just a tad easier to invite her out.’

‘So the flowers did mean something.’

‘Yes. It did. I lied to myself that I was accompanying a friend, in truth; I think I subconsciously agreed to go because I also needed some encouragement and some insights. Seeing her there was a step to venture into expanding my life again emotionally.’

I got it. ‘She was your first date since, that’s why you tried to celebrate.' With a pretty gal, flowers and a nice dinner.

‘Yes.’ his eyes mellowed again. ‘The flowers were for her, but I bought them because they were, to me, a symbol that I’m trying to move on. They meant more to me than she’ll ever know.’

‘So how are things between the 2 of you?’

‘She is a nice girl.’ He tried to speak carefully. ‘But we don’t have much in common. And frankly I don’t think I trust her enough. She strikes me as the jealous type. Oh, you better be careful.’

‘Me?’

‘You really should see her face when I off-handedly told her about the cookies.’

‘So it really was you!’

‘I’m sorry.’ He grinned. ‘Did I cause any trouble?’

‘Nah.' like cobwebs, i waved away all the trouble and stress PPQ ever caused me. 'I guess you know by now she has got the hots for you.’

‘Believe you me, I didn’t encourage her anymore beyond the flowers. I even paid her back for the porridge.’

Strike 3! ‘And how was the porridge?’ I asked.

‘Cold.’

‘No, serious.’

‘I was a bit freaked out, to tell the truth. It’s sweet but I don’t even remember telling her I was going back during the weekend.’

‘She must have hung on every word you were saying.’

‘As I said, a bit freaked out right now.’

‘You led her on, with the flowers and everything.’

‘I'm sorry. I led myself on too.’

I nodded. Somebody was trying to chase his own ghosts away. ‘Did it work?’

‘No.’ he sighed mistily. ‘I miss my wife still.’

He held his experiment and CD and grew silent. I waved my hands agitatedly.

‘Get a grip. If you blurb now, I’ll blurb too. Then my eyes will become smaller than they already are.’

He pinched his nose. ‘Right right. Guess I need to tell PPQ straight huh?’

I said. ‘Well, she isn’t the most subtle of people.’ And I really wanted to add ‘you’ll probably have to hammer it into her head with a mallet.’ But I didn’t.

‘Yah………. I’ll probably have to hammer it into her head……... u OK?’

‘Good luck.’ I coughed.

‘That bad huh?’ We walked out the doorway so I could send him on his way.

I thought about her and what she did throughout the whole series, then opened the security door for him.

‘Ok lah. She just needs to grow up a little.’

‘Don’t we all?’ His voice echoed down the corridor as he walked off.

Knowing exactly what he meant, I waved him Goodbye.

And so the camera pans out AKK as she diminishes in size and dims.

OUT!

AKK.

The sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 8

2007-04-01T14:54:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

To recap the whole series, pls read the entries below, all are in running numbers and I assure you, has links to the previous volumes from Vol. 5 onwards. Sorry, i getting lazy....

Usually when I write something like ‘spewed the kopi’, I don’t usually mean it really that way. It’s probably like a drip from the corner of the mouth. Since I’m on for creative writing, words always tend towards being slightly exaggerated. So if anytime I ever wrote that I ‘spilled’, ‘spewed’ or ‘choked’ on ‘soup’, coffee’, or ‘bread’, I probably at most dripped a little or a hand capped in front immediately to stem the flow. In fact, except in the movies, I don’t even reckon it might be possible.

As usual I’m wrong. I can officially announce now that I am capable of such an action--spewing a true fine mist of kopi spread across a large surface area worthy of Mr Kleenex.

I had to blame it all on LK.

‘Actually….I’m married.’ LK announced somberly.

Cue the spewing of the kopi siu-dai and cup overturning….

‘Oh shit! Sorry! Did I hit you??!! Oh God, you’re MARRIED??!! Oh no, it’s spreading, take the cloth!!’

And the conversation broke in the midst of this interesting revelation as we 2 scrambled to clean up the meeting room table. Thankfully I had forsworn to only raise the PPQ vs LK topic after everyone had gone home or I’m sure to cause a ruckus.

*******************************************

And the whole day has started as promising as it will sure to end on his proclamation. PPQ, as I have once mentioned, has been actively trying to slim herself down from her obese days. While she isn’t exactly skinny, I’d say she’s only slightly fleshy. Which is usually less than what I say about myself, because the invincible A has announced very frankly that I am now under the term ‘chubby’. However, since he seems to like hugging the new me this much, it’s not a cause of much concern for me.

Once I would probably have said that I suspect PPQ of being unusually tactless, now I’m closer to saying that not only do I think she knows exactly what’s going through her mouth, she’s probably assessing your facial features for a reaction as well. The sneaky little creature….

‘Akk, can I ask you a question?’

Oh man….can I say no? I had begun to fear her opening statements.

‘How much do you weigh?’ she inquired politely, I’m sure my over-active imagination thought it saw an extra glint in her eyes.

I sighed. As usual, the day is too early to play games.

‘I’m a hefty 57kg.’

OK, so I lied. I was closer to 52kg, but whatever makes her happy. Incidentally, always always tell other gals a higher number when it comes to weight, especially the ones whom you know are actively trying to lose some, because for the simple fact that:

a) You don’t want them to whine more about how much heavier they are. Key word is ‘more’ because they’ll definitely whine, but telling them you are heavy too gives them less license to go pass a certain time frame.

b) Gals trying to lose weight happen to feel more charitable to those who aren’t watching theirs. Knowing that you are as heavy/heavier/will soon be heavier than them will make the office culture a better place to work in. For one thing, they are more likely to help you out. Whoever wants to lend a hand to that teck-goh that runs the biathlon every month, that over-skinny, anorexic, salad-touting over-achiever….bet she don’t need me to help pass the fax over. She can surely walk over and collect it herself, she might welcome the exercise….hah!

c) You don’t really want them to suddenly open their eyes big big and say, ‘Really??!! Oh my God, you’re so light? I mean, you’re so light!! Oh…My…God….’ And either win the Grammy for Best Pretense, or Best Knifing Moment.

The outcry from her lips screeched through my pre-caffeine head and her eyes had come to widen to that sickening extent I’m starting to hate.

‘Really??!! Oh my God, you’re so light? I mean, so light!! Oh…My…God….’ Apparently, my one-bag-of-rice over-estimate was not able to take away option C in PPQ’s case. She won the latter but completely lost the first award.

‘Really….I only look heavy, but I was told I’ve got the bones of a bird’, I gritted it out. Already, my blood pressure is rising to the occasion. I can also see the top of Jill’s head over at her cubicle grow still. She overheard the whole exchange.

My MSN pinged. ‘Want Bacardi?’ it was Jill. Ever since the smses, Jill and I have been actively having what we call ‘Bacardi Moments’, which is in the face of impending PPQ-related stress, to drop everything and have a toast of Bacardi or any alcohol-related drink to cool down. We are now currently having a lime Bacardi hiding in the fridge.

‘Not yet’, I pinged back.

‘Akk, I’ve decided to take control of my life,‘ PPQ suddenly announced seriously. She’s been acting like this at funny times during the whole week. ‘I shall not be so upset at being single anymore. There’s nothing wrong, ‘she intoned, she eyes shining with inner light while I imagined Jill hiding behind her cubicle and cringing. ‘in being single at all.’

‘Absolutely,’ I repeated. ‘Nothing wrong.’ And then, refusing to handle this conversation myself anymore, I added, ‘Rite, Jill?’

I heard some choking noises emanating from that end. My MSN immediately pinged an emoticon guzzling beer. Someone’s experiencing her Bacardi moment right now.

‘Rite rite…*koff*…best thing that ever happened to me…’ coughed a reply from the corner while PPQ started guiltily. She did not realize that Jill was at her desk. The MSN pinged me a second emoticon from Jill, this time with one emoticon strangling another.

‘In fact,’ PPQ continued, looking around to check more carefully that there’s only she, me and Jill currently avaible. ‘I’m going to start living for myself.’

‘Good good.’ I murmured and went back to my typing….I’d heard all these before.

‘In fact, I want to make myself prettier.’

‘Good good…huh?’

‘Akk, I’ve decided to give myself a goal.’

‘What goal,’ I asked suspiciously, my fingers floated over the keyboard.

‘I want to look smaller-sized than you.’ She exclaimed.

My Bacardi moment has arrived. More coughing issued from one useless corner of the office while I stared at PPQ blankly, wondering if I had just been bit by a hitherto barking toothless puppy who suddenly grew 4” canines in one night. I, who had given her the TS theory. I, who should be thanked endlessly for my morale-building on her current insight to Life, was being issued an insult.

Thankless little C*** B**. I had never been this roundly introduced to such a 2-face in my life.

‘Fine.’ The Lime Bacardi is starting to sound super-enticing. Jill pinged an MSN message which I am sure to kill her for later. ‘PPQ 1, AKK 0!!! Fight!!!’

‘Are you OK with that?’ PPQ asked. I no longer wish to know who she is anymore beneath her seemingly guileless demeanor.

Suddenly, I have an idea. ‘Sure! I’ll going to take you up on this challenge!’ I replied cheerfully.

‘But I wasn’t…I mean, I wasn’t trying to say you’re….’

‘Of cos not! No one ever says anyone’s fat these days. But I got your point!’ I continued. ‘In fact, that’s exactly what I needed to motivate myself! Yes!’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes! you and I can both strive to be thinner than the other! We will then both benefit greatly! I can see that now.’ I swung my arms and gave her a big hug.

‘Such a motivator, you are!’ I look into her terrified eyes. AKK, the cool aunty in the office with the hansem husband, is now taking on a new project with renewed zest.

‘er…er…’ she stuttered helplessly.

‘In fact, I shall start today!’ I waved a finger at her. ‘Don’t slack ah! You’ve got to be smaller-sized than me.’

With that, I left the office.

5 mins later, Jill found me in the pantry nursing a half-bottle of Bacardi Lime.

“What was that about? You’re going to get skinny for her?’

‘Nah, I’ve been exercising anyways, it’s no bother. I’ll give her a week to catch up.’

‘A week to what?’

‘A week, ‘ I repeated. ‘before I look for her in the office gym and we both compare on the electronic scale.’

‘So?’

‘So….,’ I passed her the unfinished alcohol. “So… she’ll kill herself wondering how I managed to shave off a bag of rice in a week’s time.’

‘You’re evil.’

‘Only to certain people.’ I replied.

****************************************************

‘So let me make this clear.’ I said weakly to LK later in the week after we had cleaned up the spill.

'Yes, I will tell you all, ' he salaamed.

‘You are married.’

‘Yes.’

‘Rather like me. '

‘Yes.’

‘You have a marriage cert, not just the tea-drinking thingy.’

‘Yes’

‘You are pulling my leg.’

‘No.’

‘Who knows about this?’

At this, LK leaned and whispered in my ear.

‘Now you do.’

I have a bad feeling about this……………

Stay tuned!!!!

OUT!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 7

2007-03-25T17:56:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Hope u are all kept up to date with the on-going series, if not, please read the entries below starting from the 1st vol. Oh yes, I admit I now very lazy, because I just cleaned up the whole house by myself, a rare occurrence, thankfully, so I beseech you to scroll to the previous entry to get all the links to the other volumes…hehehehe.

In any case, here’s the latest installation, which I’m happy to say, did not decrease in its excitement and drama. In fact I would go to say this is even more soap than opera. Here’s why:

The current situation is that I invited my colleagues over to my place for a poker session yesterday. Here’s something about the bunch that you should know. These are really really nice and young and fun people, even the older ones. Maybe because of the ulu location of our department, we needed to be more rowdy and raucous to balance our sanity and the ying-yang of the place. Perhaps next time, I shall blog about the ghostly occurrences in the department, so you can see why we needed to make some noise all the time and remain happy.

And nothing can make us happier than to have lunch together over an intense round of ban-luck or 21. The bids are in 10 cents only, but the point is not the winning, the point is the playing…..and of cos the excitement of the possibility of getting caught playing cards in the office.

So… back to the story, the whole office came over to my place for food and fun, PPQ included. We all noticed she was exceptionally happy, but as a group, we tend not to ask too personal questions all around. And frankly, I wasn’t that interested, even for the PPQ series. In a certain way, I’m sure I can get the whole story in its own time without my intervention.

Sure enough, halfway through the game, PPQ started telling us about her on-going. She went out with LK again, this time for dinner after work. The gals had to ask who asked first, him or PPQ. It was him that asked first, she verified.

Ah, I was thinking, this PPQ is either very smart or very stupid. Beforehand, LK already mentioned to me he received a few smses from PPQ for lunch but he was busy. I knew that he was going to make it up to her for not being free, so the dinner was no surprise. On the other hand, the way PPQ was saying it, she either wanted us to think he’s earnestly chasing her or she wanted to pretend it was all true.

I started worrying again, which was utter stupidity, but I couldn’t help it. On and on in my mind was LK saying the words over and over again, ‘Should there be anything else?’ when I asked him if the date was only for fun.

These 2 people are going at it at cross-purposes.

Oh yes, to digress a little, a quickie conversation that made me pissed happened on Friday. It was PPQ being asked by the younger, idolizing gals whether she does indeed like the irascible, charming LK. I was busy working at my cubicle but her lovely voice reached me anyway.

‘I think I do! I mean, he’s very eligible. Dresses very well and is a scholar! What more could a girl want?’

To which I snorted so quickly and so badly and so loudly, that I had to cover up, bring up a jokes website and ask the gals to come over to read them so that they won’t suspect I heard it. The whole thing is starting to turn into a joke I can absolutely appreciate. I’m almost sure I should see the demise of this relationship, if it ever happened, with PPQ the worse for wear again.

Of cos, what more could a gal want except that a guy is eligible? I’m sure she doesn’t need things like kindness, care, concern or basic attraction. As long as he dresses very well and get As for grades, I’m sure he Mr Right.

What utter shallowness. And it’s terrible because I didn’t know when I became so angry about the whole situation, except that I thought it was such a waste of time for both sides. Why can’t somebody just be the bad person and tell PPQ off for her air-headedness about relationships? Was it because that since LK became a friend, I’m actually worried for his reputation and safety? After all, after seeing her in action, the thought that she might like to turn Martyr for Love is highly plausible?

Again, the whole story is running away from me. There’s so much and so little information to write this out since everything is in bits and pieces. Back to the poker game at my place on Saturday: Suffice to say there was bit more conversation about LK this and LK that and LK everything for the next 30 minutes into the game. By then, everyone who’s got brains at least the size of peas have discovered the new PPQ and her rather larger-than-Life-imagination. Apart from naming her second future son, she did everything to confirm that as a person, she thinks much too much and much too highly of herself. It’s weird, because just a few days before, I thought she was suffering from low-self-esteem….

Colleague Jill came to the kitchen to help make the coffee during a short break, where she gave me the second largest piece of news of this entry. Due to her work, she’s required to sometimes go back on weekends and in fact, had came from the department to my place.

‘Guess who I saw at the labs?’ she gave me a cheeky smile while I ripped the 3-in-1s apart.

‘PPQ?” I said. It was hardly a subject between the 2 of us that never got back to her.

‘Yah and you know why she was there?’

‘I have no idea.’ PPQ’s work does not involve weekend burning…..Hmmm……

‘She went back to buy fish porridge for LK.’

‘Huh?’ I was mystified. Did LK lack the hands to buy his own fish porridge?

‘I’m not kidding. She told me she came back just to buy him lunch.’

‘Oh well, if he did ask her for help, that’s hardly news.’

‘Yup, but he didn’t. She just came all the way back to buy it for him because she knew he’s in the lab today. But that’s not the best part, the best part was that, not only did he NOT know she came to give him lunch, he didn’t even arrive yet when she got there, so she waited till she couldn’t wait anymore and actually left the takeaway at the receptionist.’

‘At the receptionist?’ I gasped. It was unbelievable.

‘Yes! Then she smsed him a cryptic sms and asked him to get ‘the surprise’ from the lady at the lobby.’

‘From the lobby.’ I intoned. I was gobsmacked.

‘From the lobby.’ She confirmed, her lips quivering.

And the dam burst out in the kitchen. We laughed at the flabbergasted performance that is PPQ. It was bad planning, and terrible coordination all rolled into one. I know I should look at it and think its sweet, but the thought of him going back to the lab, most likely with lunch already settled, receiving a ‘surprising’ soggy bowl of cold soup from a grumbling receptionist was too much. The whole lobby would have smelt of soup. I wondered how amused the receptionist must have been to receive it and how equally amused she would be to find out who the lucky guy was.

Somebody’s embarrassment shall know no bounds even as we speak.

Jill and I giggled irrepressibly when the whole bunch coddled us unsuccessfully to tell them the joke. It was nice to have an ally.

The whole thing ended with success. Success meaning that I won enough to buy a cup of coffee. The whole adventure would have ended here and in fact, been sufficient for a blog entry.

But another new thing about PPQ I would learn is never to expect the expected when it comes to her.

A series of smses was flung at me today, while I was dosing off to sleep at my balcony, mouth wide open, enjoying the sun….

They were from PPQ.

Dear AKK, I wanna tell you something. I strongly believe in the TS theory now bcos it has been proven in my case. I have managed to find out one of my secret admirers just now…. Haha…

I felt uncomfortable about the ‘Haha…’ I smsed back, ‘Really? Was it someone I know?’

No, u dunno….it’s 1 of my JC frens. He is marrying soon. He drove me home just now. On the way, he asked me why I never like him…then I told him why, then he told me tat last time he did have crush on me. Haha… But it’s all past le. Haha…

The ‘Haha…’s are starting to sound demonic.

I wrote back, ‘Actually, it’s best not to go looking, just know it can liao.’ Whatever possessed me to tell her the TS theory…

The next sms made my toes curl and wonder about her mental state….it was long and filled with lots of haha-s and apostrophes.

Ya…I know…unless they divulge themselves.. so I strongly believe tat there are at least 9 more out there who is thinking of me now. Haha… Really…I am so glad tat this fren of mine is so brave 2 be vulnerable to me, to tell me this. It really makes me even believe tat theory, felt better about myself. LK jus happen to be the bravest to approach me in a more aggressive way… Haha… Or he is hiding something behind his sleeves by being so nice 2 me…So I have 2 be mre careful… Now I believe tat ‘the one’ shall overcome all obstacles 2 court me, and not the other way round. Haha…=)

Oh man! This time, I got a very amused A (who has been kept very updated) to pen the sms back to her because I am left speechless with guilt and …fear?

It would be best not to think so much and just enjoy a great frenship in the making. Even if things don’t work out, everyone can still be frens.

Rather than dampen the spirit, her reply was a roar of self-expression starting with…..

Haha… thank u 4 ur advice. Anyway, I still wanna thank u 4 ur TS theory. This is going to make a difference in my Life le… Haha…^-^

Oh no!!!! What have I done??!!! I have given power to the undeserved!!! The knowledge has mentally disabled her senses!!! And what’s with ‘hiding something behind his sleeves’ mean? While I agonized, A guffawed at the entertainment.

Half an hour later, PPQ sent her pièce de résistance. Note the hesitance.

O……..Ya……AKK...... mind I check w u? Did anyone give you cookies 4 ur birthday? Haha….

I have a bad feeling about this…..

OUT!

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 6

2007-03-19T21:32:00.000+08:00

Warning: please read the whole series as they are all part of a running story. Apart from vol. 1, 2-5 are all consecutive entries. Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5.

Hi all!

It would seem that the drama of PPQ couldn’t seem to slow down enough for me to take a break before I update again. So I am, cramping my fingers away on my lappy for the sake of my sanity. Because writing these things out purges me from those demons that the whole episodes have put into me. Now I can say that I’ve learnt something, which I always knew, but always had to re-learn again and again because I ALWAYS ALWAYS forget. And that is this:

You really don’t know a person till you see them react to situations.

For PPQ, it should be known by now that while I harbour no ill will towards her, I am somewhat tired by the incessant outpouring of her private life. Every now and then when she deigned to talk to me about her new leash of life, I will try to turn it into another standpoint. Mainly by telling her that having guys like her or liking guys are currently not the most important thing in her life right now.

‘if you must know, you shouldn’t go crazy over just these 2 guys, you know?’

‘oh AKK,’ she flicked her hands dismissively. ‘I’m not.’

‘you aren’t?’

‘No, the other one was much too old.’

I recalled her having another date from the seminar asking her out. And almost immediately, denoted him Andy.

‘Like how old?’ I was think to the tune of 15.

‘He’s 7 years older than me, he’s so Uncle!’

My eyes widen than narrowed. Some of my most charismatic friends are 10 years older than me. In fact most of them age better than wine….

‘PPQ, 7 years is pretty short, considering you aren’t that young yourself.’ I twisted the knife in slowly.

‘But I can’t look at him in THAT way!’ she confessed.

‘What way?’

‘I mean, I can’t consider him at all, he’s just too old for me.’

‘wait a minute.’ I had a thought. ‘So how was the date, really? Was it nice?’

‘Yes, it was great! I had lots of fun.’

‘Fun until you found out he’s 7 years older than you.’I accused.

‘AKK,‘ She huffed. ‘I’m not as shallow as you think. I just gradually felt like I was talking to my 2nd uncle as the night wore on’

‘Yes,' I persisted. ‘AFTER you knew about his age.’

'I’m not like that, ‘ She replied quietly.

‘I just want you to know that there is nothing wrong with just making friends, be they older, younger, shorter, plumper, cuter, uglier. I’m just saying that you should just learn how to make friends first rather than make boyfriends out of these new friends. In fact, only when you love yoourself can you find somebody who can love you back the way you want. And Singlehood is the best situation to start loving yourself more.’ Once again, I thought of Jill and her composed and happy demeanor.

PPQ’s eyes misted again. While a part of me grew more disgusted with her with each passing day, another part of me constantly beats me up for forgetting who and what she is. I seem to always forget that we are all different and we think differently and while PPQ may never be a friend of mine because we think from 2 polars, doesn’t mean I should force her to accept my own views.

‘I’m just very lonely.’ She intoned sadly. ‘after I broke up with him (the latest BF), I lasted 3 days before I begged him to return to me….but it didn’t work. I’m really a failure.’

Oh man….I’ve made the Heavenly Queen’s eye water!!! Awkwardly, I patted her on the shoulder and grimaced at the scene I was imagining, her having to beg him to come back. Perhaps I’m married and therefore feeling all smug that someone’s tied to me, but I can’t help but feel she gave the whole of womankind a bad name for not standing tall when she should have.

She relived her past while I absently slapped her back, finally I took the easy way out of the whole situation.

I opened my mouth and said, ‘Have you never heard of the TS theory?’

=======================15 minutes later=======================

‘Meaning,‘ PPQ reiterated slowly, ‘that every person has 10 secret admirers that they don’t know about?’

‘Exactly! Isn’t that great to know???’

‘I don’t believe it,’ she said flatly.

‘Well, the theory stands because it can’t be proven lah. If it’s proven, then how to be secret admirers anymore?’

She looked dubious, but I knew if this doesn’t raise a gal’s esteem, nothing will. It sure did for me.

‘Think about it.’ And I went off.

Later that night and the next day, I would soon know the error of my ways by empowering her with my theory.

I have worse feelings now than ever.

Stay tuned........

OUT!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 5.

2007-03-17T23:01:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Again the warning: if you dun understand the title, please read the whole series as they are all part of a running story. Apart from vol. 1, 2-4 are all consecutive entries. Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4.

As promised, here's the newest installation.

The morning started off busily with me cramping the keyboards away for a memo update, and reading blogs at the same time. So imagine the back of my hair standing up when I heard a small voice from the left ear drowning out all the office noises of hard workers.

‘AKK, can I ask you a question?’

PPQ had pasted her face close to my left cheek, which totally freaked me out. Firstly because I was lost in work and secondly because I suspect she was reading my monitor.

Thankfully, I had the outlook to cover the blog sites. I faked a large stretch that made her face shy away and asked loudly and within earshot of everyone, ‘Yes? How may I be of assistance?’ There was the hope that she would change her secretive question with a more mundane one, since my Life is definitely too short to cater to her cloud-nine or hell-eighteen emotional status right now.

But I guess PPQ is not much of a subtle thinker. In fact, I now swear that while she’s academically woo-hoo, she’s ZERO brain cells in emotional quotient and social etiquette. When the question came, it was a shocker.

‘AKK, does LK have your handphone number?’

The question was tentative and yet, I could spot a slight accusatory tone mangling the innocent sentence into something derogatory and insulting. My temper started rising. Because of the security access required to enter our block, anyone coming in had to call the center for help, usually the technician that provides the service. Since LK had failed to reach me to get him in, he then called PPQ to allow him access. As I’ve left my HP on my desk while I went to the restroom, she must have seen it vibrating and blinking away just before LK called her.

Bloody Hell……

‘Why do you ask?’ What I really wanted to say was: What business is it to you?

‘Nothing. Just asking.’ For the rest of the day, I would receive this lame phrase for the other questions she’ll randomly throw at me. But I see her eyes grew concerned at my answer.

Blow this for a lark. I’m not up for a fight this early in the morning and I’ve plenty to do. So I told the truth, which was, ‘My office number is directed to my handphone, any client will get my HP blinking.’

Apparently satisfied, she turned back to her work while I hastened my own so I can attend to LK, who was using my machine 3 rooms away.

The whole morning was spent in relative peace till we broke for lunch. LK took the first half of his data back, promising to return after lunch to continue. On my side, I heaved a sigh of relief that PPQ was busy with her own work and did not linger outside the lab door. Perhaps the whole day will pass uneventfully.

I should have known better. As I escorted LK down the corridor out of the building, I saw the whole bunch of my colleagues crowding it, all ready for lunch. LK said Hi to PPQ and everyone along the corridor before stepping out. As I said, he really is a very friendly person. Since no one knew this guy was the date of PPQ, I stayed silent and let him out quietly.

Once the door closed, I turned and walked back to a tittering crowd.

Then I heard PPQ’s voice wafting through.

‘Yup! Yes! He’s the one! That’s my date! Isn’t he cute?’

Oh brother… Now the whole world could put a face to PPQ’s joy. On and on, the phrase ‘Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched’ went through my head again.

During lunch, PPQ took center-stage again. Another guy from the relationship seminar had asked her out, so she happily told anyone willing to listen. On my part, I’m beginning to suspect that she’s either having a much too-low-self-esteem that she couldn’t believe such ‘peach-flower-luck’ could strike her twice, or she having such a high self-esteem she thinks she’s got it made just because she had dates.

While I was silently munching away on my noodles, one of my favourite colleagues elbowed me.

‘I know exactly what you are thinking,’ she whispered.

‘Really? Like how?’ I answered morosely, wandering how the whole thing had got out of hand.

‘She was worse when she broke of with the first and second boyfriends. I was her shoulder to cry on.’

‘I really don’t know what she’s doing, you know, it’s a huge big hoo-ha now. What if people just want to be friends first? It’s like eating the batter before the cake is baked, eventually she’ll complain that she couldn’t eat the cake in the end…’

’Well, for PPQ, you need to understand that she doesn’t have guy friends. Guys are to her avenues for boyfriend- or husband-hood. Did you know what she thinks about us single gals in the office?’

‘What?’ Eyes big big, I was aghast that PPQ had opinions about singlehood status and made it known to the singles. Colleague Jill is currently in her 30s but happily and fulfillingly single. She’s my favourite because she’s always logical and calm in the face of the younger, crazier colleagues. To think that anyone would use her first as a comfort pillow, and yet insult her is hard to understand.

‘What what? Say say!’

‘Well, for one thing, she thinks there’s something wrong and incomplete about us. She thinks that in order to be whole, we need a guy.’

‘Oh God….’ I exclaimed, soaking up the office currents.

‘That’s why she’s so adamant about getting a guy. She’s barely single for a month and she’s on the high radar already. Probably also why she’s so anxious that these guys should be the answer to her loneliness.’

‘So…essentially, ‘ I said slowly. ‘She doesn’t want to end up like you or the others…She thinks you gals are losers…’’

‘Exactly!’ She beamed.

‘That’s mean!’

‘Yup, but you can’t change what a person truly feels.’

‘How come you never told me?’

‘I hardly think it’s a proper office conversation.’

I am sick in the stomach. That’s what PPQ was on the insides. She sounded like an absolute bumpkin who’s never had her horizons widened. This girl has got TUNNEL vision. Were she born during the old days, she’ll probably cheer the loudest should an adulterous pair be tried at the village square and drowned in the river.

She sounds like she never grew up and never adapted. Men, to her, are a means to an end. Like a status symbol.

Sitting across Jill, I was glad I did not mention this after-hour servicing to anyone in the office. My survival instincts must have clearly heard the call of the Wild (probably PPQ again). Because eventually LK and I did do dinner together, although a dinner of packed rice across the large table in the meeting room, which is vacated every 15 minutes to check the machine, is hardly what anyone would call a ‘date’, more like a necessity. Even then, I felt it’d be murder to leak this tidbit out to PPQ.

‘So how was the date?’ I asked casually.

‘Great! Had a lot of fun!’

‘Hmm…Is it all fun and nothing else?’

LK leaned back in his chair and stretched nonchalantly. ‘Should there be anything else?’

‘I mean, don’t the flowers and the musicians mean anything?’

He slammed the chair back onto its four legs. ‘My goodness, she told you that?’

‘That and more, my man.’

‘Ow…. I was hoping the whole thing would be a bit more discreet.’

I thought about how the whole department now knows who he is and what he did and how they met and felt sorry for him.

‘The flowers were just because it’s a date. It’s just something I do.’ He said defensively. ‘The musicians didn’t require any planning, I just waved a hand over and they came. And while I may or may not be interested, what’s wrong with knowing each other better first?’

I nodded. It was as I suspected. LK really was just built this way. Earlier when I escorted him back in, he ended up talking to the cleaning lady who was in the same elevator as us. By the time we reached our floor, he knows her name, how many kids she had and how her bad back ached on rainy days.

When the whole session ended at a timely 9.30pm, he whipped out a plastic bag and flourished it at me. I took it and looked inside. It was a large bag of mixed chocolates from Chocolate Heaven. I almost flung it back at him. His connection to PPQ is making me wary accepting anything from him or treating him any better.

‘What’s this for?’ I asked suspiciously.

‘Ta-daa! Happy belated Birthday!’

‘Eh? How did you know?’

‘You told me.’ He looked wounded.

‘I did?’ Arrgghh….kopi and chocolates….this guy does his homework well….

‘Yes lah!’ he huffed. ‘During our last scanning, your hubby asked you if you were free for a dinner reservation on your birthday and you said OK, then when you put the phone down, you told me.’

‘Oh…. Thanks but I really needed to tell you that I can’t accept gifts from my clients.’

He sighed. ‘I’m treating you as a friend right now and showing you my appreciation of your bending the rules for me. Even if you don’t accept this gift as a real present, then take it as a treat for the whole department.’

‘Hmmm…’ I considered. He had a point. Somewhere along the way, we had become friends. It is really quite idiotic to pretend otherwise. And while I have misgivings, there’s absolutely nothing to hide, especially from PPQ. There’s nothing I owe her.

‘OK, thank you very much. I shall share it with my colleagues in the pantry. As a friend, I’ll regard it as a birthday gift, but you’ll have to understand that I’ll say it’s meant for everyone.’

He broke into a smile. ‘So long as you know, it’s fine with me.’

‘I do. Thanks again.’ I led him out of the facility.

As I watched him walk off, I recalled what I said to PPQ just before she left for the day when she came and asked me, ‘Do you think I should have told so many people about LK?’

To which I replied rather archly, ‘What do you think? While you may not value your own privacy, don’t you think as a friend, you should value his?’

Eyes shuttered, she looked thoughfully at me and walked away. I have a bad feeling about the whole bloody thing….

Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 4.

2007-03-15T18:25:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Wah lau…I think I can update everyday…..

For those who do not understand the title, you’ll definitely have to read the series in their appointed volumes since it is a running story.

If so, pls read them in the following sequence: vol 1, vol 2, vol 3 (below this entry).

So early in the morning when I entered the office, to say that I was curious would be an understatement. I found out that PPQ is not exactly a subtle person. Her emotions do run their course on a roller-coaster, sometimes in a series of endless hoops.

To say that I was concerned would also be an overstatement too, because I’m not that nice a person to care for people who aren’t so close too much. I may worry a bit, but that’s about it. But with somebody like PPQ, who always seem to relive her history through her encounters with the opposite sex, and this time with someone who’s obviously been around, I confess to being a little more than anxious.

But generally overall, I’m curious enough to want to witness a dramatic story unfold in a fashion akin to a novella. Yea, I confess extremely readily of my KPOness to the whole situation.

So when PPQ came sailing in all smiles and happy laughter, I was prepared to cock a ear to listen to her. Because of my client relationship with LK, I was the obvious choice to pass the joy to. But I needn’t have worried, because her joy was palpable and full of charity. She’s prepared to share all date details with everyone in the office.

I’m still considering the earlier wisdom of telling her to ‘not count her chicks before they are hatched’, but she’s on a roll and starring as lead actress, so hell, I joined the group and sucked up the drama. Her happiness is indeed pretty lovely to watch.

In the abject attention of all the female colleagues (close to 10), she excitedly exclaimed her date to be the most fun and happiest she’s ever had and met. An hour long discussion with many ‘oohhs’ and ‘ahhhs’ and ‘lucky you’ followed.

‘He brought me to XXX restaurant for a candle-lit dinner’

‘ooohhhh….that’s nice!’, gushed the office gals.

‘He bought flowers and asked the waiters to present them to me with the dessert!’

‘waahhh….’ We wowed. I had to admit that it was a classic LK (ladykiller) touch, especially with the dessert.

‘There were singers that went to our tables just to serenade to us! I think he planned it!’

‘Ooohhhh…goodness! That’s so charming!’ the whole office (the guys has joined the conversation) warbled and commented. Obviously LK has scored a clear goal into PPQ’s heart.

‘And best of all? It’s all so coincidental! If it wasn’t for AKK, he might not even have spoken to me!’

The whole cohort aimed their optic lasers onto me as I was suddenly thrust into the limelight. They too knew that PPQ had been depressed like sugarcane being pushed through the juicer of Love. The guy seems to them perfect in every way and they must have been glad to see the increasing-radial aura of sadness shrink away from the office atmosphere. Oh no! I remembered thinking this. Some pre-disposed survival instinct is kicking into high gear.

‘Er..er….I don’t actually know him that well.’ It’s a LIE, I know him well enough to form some opinions already.

‘Oh AKK, his ice-breaker was ‘Do you know AKK?’ If I didn’t know you, the conversation would have stopped there.’ She giggled deliriously.

And the crowd ‘oohhh’ed again and patted me on the back.

I’m expressly certain that LK would have steered the conversation proficiently all by himself, but under the metric gaze of the office and her megawatt gratitude of my involvement to her Prince Charming, my guts shriveled like a raisin trying to raise that point. Already I have foreseen my future. It was either to be hailed as the Saint of Love and Fortune or the Witch of Bad Coincidences.

Then my phone rang just then to save me. But argh! The witch of Bad coincidences brought none other than LK to sing out my name on the other end.

‘Yo! Got time for me, Miss AKK? I need a lot of it.’

The cheek of the man. But yea, to give a benefit of the doubt, he is indeed one of my best and most law-abiding, well-behaved customer who never blames the tools. You’ll be surprised how many researchers blame the machines for their bad results when it’s obvious it is their own skills they should question.

‘Anytime. Scanning only though.’ I should shut up right about now.

There was a chuckle. ‘Ok, sorry for teasing. How about a slot for tomorrow? And get this….’

He gave me a heart-stopping number to the amount of plates he’s scanning.

‘So many! I’ll need to block the whole day tomorrow and half the day after for you then.’

‘Yes, as to that.’ His voice grew serious on the phone. ‘I really need this batch of data ASAP. In fact, I was hoping to finish them tomorrow.’

‘Hmmm….but I can’t finish unless I open after hours.’

‘Please? Just this once, I promise.’

‘Hmmm….’

‘For all the times I’ve been a great client? I’ll not pull this type of stunt anymore, promise promise….’

And then, as the coup de grace….

‘And you can ask me anything about the date yesterday. There’s no kissing, so I can tell.’

And I burst out laughing. I appreciate his candour and the fact that he knows I know and doesn’t care.

‘Right. Promise not to tell the rest of them users of your privileged treatment, put my name and facility in the paper you are publishing and I’ll open shop for 4 extra hours for you.’

There was a sigh of relief on the other end. ‘Thanks, man. You’re a saint. I agree to all terms and I’ll buy you dinner while you work.’

And I’m thinking currently, as I wrote this, that PPQ and I are different types of girls altogether. I’ll go even further to say, dare I say? That a dinner’s a dinner and means nothing. That a guy friend can be a friend only and nothing else. That making friends is not a choice depending on whether he’s eligible for the future or not. Friends can be made anytime anywhere. So the thing is: what is it about PPQ that her heart can jump out of her mouth just because a guy looks at her and what is it about me that my heart doesn’t even pump when I was similarly single last time? Maturity? And yes, expressing to spent more time with a person does not equate said person likes the other?

But while I don’t grudge a free meal. Professionalism needed to win over.

‘Nah. It’s OK, nothing to it. No bribing the technician.’

‘You sure?’ he persisted. ‘Perhaps a coffee?’

OK. Professionalism is great but nothing gets in the way for a cup of kopi.

‘Deal. Help me get that nice kopi-siu-dai in the corner hawker and I’ll pay you back.’

Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen vol 3.

2007-03-14T16:42:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Today I had an extremely excited PPQ (pls read vol 1 and 2) corner me the minute I walked into the office. Although we talk abit, we were nevertheless not very close, so it was a surprise that she thought it fit to drag me to a corner of the office just to show me something.

It was an sms from my client (denote LK for ladykiller):

Hi PPQ, I got your number from the seminar contacts list, hope you don’t mind. Would you like to have dinner sometimes?

‘Oh, AKK!’ she gushed. ‘I’m so excited! I think he likes me!’

My open face closed. I was hesitant to tell her in the face of her brilliant happiness that while a guy asking you out is a good indication he’s interested, it doesn’t mean he’s THAT interested, especially to someone like LK.

But just in case, I said ‘that’s good. But you must understand he’s a very very nice and very very friendly (I emphasized) man.’

What I really wanted to say was, ‘Don’t count your chicks before they are hatched.’

She didn’t get it. ‘Yes, I know!’ eyes sparkling, she smsed back and told him she’ll be delighted to go out with him.

Very soon, the date is set. They are going out…tonight.

PPQ is getting so excited she fairly floating off the ground.

LK came over to run his plates again at my department. A casual question got this answer.

‘Nice to just make more friends!’ and he winked at me.

I think he wants to be my friend too.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen vol 2.

2007-03-13T16:28:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Recently I had another chat with the Sad Ping Pong Queen. To update a few things about her? She has finally dump her then current BF and is going around trying her best to enjoy singlehood.

The key word is ‘trying’.

One of those things she did to get herself out of thinking too much, was to catch up on her reading, which was good until I realised....

scenario 1---PPQ intently reading a thick book and AKK approached her:

‘Hey! What’s that you’ve got there?’

‘Oh! It’s a self-help book, I need some motivation.’

‘ok, I bet it’s about women power and independence, ya? That type of book makes me feel great sometimes.’ W#hich was a lie, of cos, because I don't like books that superiorly tells me my life isn't good because I've not actively practicising what they preach.

‘Oh no, actually. It’s about how relationships work. I’m trying to see where I went wrong.’ At this, PPQ coughed and her eyes misted over.

I sighed and left her to her feelings.

So much for looking for happiness. Would she really want to know that the whole thing could have worked out fine if she’d follow their 10 ‘golden rules’ of lasting relationships? Really, I wouldn’t, but hell, I’m not her and I’m not that masochistic either.

=====================================

Scenario 2:
A few days ago, PPQ asked AKK to accompany her to a seminar during the weekend.

‘Wait wait…I think i heard wrongly, what was it again? What's it called?’

‘It’s a seminar on ‘how to make relationships work’. Want to come with me? It’s only $10.’

‘er…no thanks. You enjoy yourself though.’

‘Yup. I'll try. I’m sure I will learn many things.’

PPQ thought a bit more then voiced out.

'Do you think, AKK, that I could meet someone there? perhaps another person with the same problem as me?

'Er...I'm sure you aren't the only female who decides to make her life better with a clean slate.'

'No, AKK.....another guy.'

=======================================

Then the weekend went by and on a Monday, my office phone rang. It was one of my clients who wanted to request my services. After we confirmed time and date, he suddenly perked up over the phone,

‘Ay, Akk! I got stuff to tell you! I met your colleague, the PPQ, at the relationship seminar! What a small world!’

Eh? This client of mine is quite the ladykiller. He dresses well, looks cute, can talk, is super-single and happy just the way he is. Apparently he went just to keep another guy fren company. Lo and behold, PPQ sat just beside them and they all started chatting.

Just as I finished the conversation and put down the phone, PPQ came into the office and went straight for me, chirpier than I've seen her in weeks.

‘Guess what! I saw your client there! I didn’t know you had such a cute client! So gentlemanly somemore…….’ And she walked to her desk with a silly smile on her face….

I have a bad feeling about this…..

out!

akk

Things that make you go ‘er….’

2007-03-03T22:47:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

When your colleagues unabashedly with 2 oranges and say, ‘ happy CNY, AKK! Here’s a pair of oranges for you!!’

AKK: “Great! Thanks! And here’s a pair back for you too!’

Colleagues: ‘Ay so bad ah, no ang pow ah? U married liao leh’

AKK (embarrassed): er…..

When you invite your friends to come over for CNY during a dinner gathering:

AKK: hey, everyone at this table is invited to come my place this Saturday!!
XYZ: yayy!! Another gathering! ABC, you bring your bf along leh, I’ve never seen him. AKK, ask ABC to bring her BF leh!

AKK who has seen the bf and really didn’t like him much goes ‘Er….’

AKK on email: hey all, you guys are invited to my place for CNY!!

ITE ask AKK loudly and with everyone within hearing range, ‘Hey AKK, my BF says he wans to come, can he come? Pretty please?!’

AKK who wans to keep it small but got caught in the great outdoors goes ‘Er….’

NUS asks AKK ‘Ay, I have activity with my BF in the morning, so can I bring him to your place? I’m driving and it’s very bad to dump him lonesomely at the MRT while I come here by myself.’

AKK who can’t think of a better place to dump the BF so he can go home goes ‘Er….’

NUS mass-mailed everyone: Yo! See u all, I’m bringing BF, Akk allows!!!’

Then.....‘Oy, AKK, I heard NUS’ BF going, can I bring my other half too?’

and the cycle begins....

So when did I start having idiots who can’t read between the lines of ‘If you didn’t hear it from me, then you aren’t invited?’ clause?

Have I been missing out on the erosion of common courtesy?

And why when I open my house with purely good intentions, I get ppl who get pissed that their other halfs can’t come along? I mean, come on, my house right? It’s got a capacity to what it can hold and how much I can cook.

Pls think for me and be kind to me. I didn’t have to do this. Stressed over pitiful lousy things……

OUT!

AKK

Sleeping habits, Vol 1

2007-02-23T17:12:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

if you have been catching up with the blog and especially the latest voice entry (which was eons ago), then you'll know that I have been staying with A for quite a while already. To someone who's never once had a man in the same bed before (never for want of trying), the first few starts were very daunting. I mean, it's pretty hard trying to keep my hands to myself and not let them stray all over the place....

In any case, this entry has been ruthlessly censored because it's confirmed that Chuikueh (bro) will turn green if I continue from those dots. So rather than all those R(A) moments and making him waste his school pocket money, why not go into the X-files-moments that occurred since the bed started getting bigger and yet smaller at the same time?

There's more than a few already, so it'll be made into a series. :)

Conversation between A and AKK on a weekend morning in front the TV:

A: Hey dear, did you have a good rest?

AKK: Yah, why? Did I kick you again?

A: No lah, not kick. You have no recollection?

AKK: No leh. God, what did I do this time?

A: At first you were asleep, then your eyes suddenly open and you pointed at the ceiling and you shouted ,'Chinese!!!'

AKK: huh?!

A: Really! You pointed at the ceiling lamp and shouted 'Chinese!!'. Then for a while, I kena those 'sadako' moments, cos you look so awake. So I stared at the ceiling too and asked you, 'Where?'

AKK*scared*: then then?!! what I say?

A: you shouted, 'On the Streets!!!'

AKK: huh?!

A: Then you immediately went back to sleep.

AKK: Really?!

A: Really! After that, I kept nudging you 'which street, which street', but you dead to the world liao....

==================================

Haiyah.....I forsee many more such moments with a light sleeper like A....

OUT!

akk

how's that for a short entry?

Happy New Year and an Update!!!

2007-02-21T12:22:00.000+08:00

Yooooo!!!!!

To everyone out there, xin nian kuai le, wan shi ru yi!!!! Sorli siah that the new year should bring out all the guilt in me about the MIA-ness of my entries. But the thing is….

I was truly so fricking busy!!! And I was doing actual factual work!! *gasp!!!** you know, the thingy that people need to go through to get money at the end of every month….legally?

So the new year has been a deserved big break, so flouting and commiting all top 10 abuses in the workplace, I am now, here, writing a new entry for the new year to all of you. At the risk of job, career and big boss’ radar.

How has my Jan month been? I’d like to say it was hunky dory, cos I had my first work trip overseas, to the US, no less! But seriously hor, if you really see beyond that smiley face and look deep into me soulful eyes, you may suspect a twinge of deep-seated resentment waiting to ram out the mask. Would I be disloyal if I said I didn’t much like it, to break the trust the company gave to send me all the way on SIA to a touristy city within 6 months of the job?

Perhaps. But I truly truly hated it!!!! Argghh!!!! Minus all those 3 times when I sneaked out of the fricking 12 hour-5-day-iron-shackled-conference, I disliked every second of it!!!

Yuck yuck yuck!!! Meeting all those snooty high-powered academics!!!! Yuck yuck!! Listening to their lacklustre speeches that makes even my Chinese teacher’s mumbling the stuff of a Toastmaster’s praise. Yuck yuck!!! Trying to read the fine prints of their powerpoints. Argghh!! Having to say ‘Hi, how are you?’ with the megawatt smile turned on high and eliciting zilch response in return, that was the worse!!! Argghh!!

Snooty, snobby bunch of intellectual idiots….

And then I came back to face a huge mountain of work, all sussed up and upset that there wasn’t much to learn from it all and that I had wasted my 5 days trying to do so when I could have disappeared from it all and toured the city flat…..double aarrgghhh arghhh argghhhh……

And then there were the clients who had missed me much during my leave and came with piles of work for me to sort out. Urgent urgent!!! Everything must be done by today so I can collect by tomorrow….and they never did. Then came the monthly takings and production data to calculate, organise and file up. Then came, hot on its heels, the bi-annual meeting with the director, who talks money all the time…..

Money money money, you’d think that he was paying us loads to keep from having to come every month for a check-up. I mean, the whole bloody place was running as efficiently as if he comes in every single day. But noooo…..he pays us peanuts, and it’s normal peanuts, not the Durai peanuts, mind you.

Which is why I’m so frustrated. Because my own department is new, I’m the only one holding the whole fort. Heck, I have to close shop just to take leave. So it hurts when they always tell you ‘we cannot offer you more, this very high liao.’ And then they turn around and offer the exact same amount to someone with a half the jobscope, zero experience and 1 notch down the academic ladder just because that someone has been working since she left school and has had the good sense not to believe these conniving bosses and the HR about not be able to offer more. Hey! I study so much for what?

Arghhh!!! In anycase, talks on promoting me are on the way, but hell lah, I know I’m a good worker, but I dun care about the promotion, that won’t make my eyes light up. I care more how much you can raise my stinking pay.

It’d better be high!!! Idiots…..

My dad once told me that no one is indispensable. Last time, I would agree when I first started on this job. Now? There’s only me that knows how to work the machine, indispensable? I’d like to see the department try to accept clients when their main core is not around.

Another fren says, ‘no job is indispensable.’ Yup….I think so too.

You know why? Cos I ain’t afraid of change.

It’s time to fight for my rights…..

Out!
AKK

Layer by layer you'll be stripped clean....

2007-01-09T12:52:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

man am i glad Jaywalk sent me this! I'm running low on fuel for blogging because i've been busy reading, took up a lot of my time being in another place....so thanks!

Layer ONE- On The Outside
Name: Ang Ku Kueh
Birth Date: 198*
Current Status: Married
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Now dirty brown (dye lah)
Righty or Lefty: Right-wing
Zodiac Sign: Fishy

Layer TWO - On The Inside
Your Heritage: what’s this? Clementi town eating yong tau fu on a sunday morning?
Your Fears: Failing although you tried fricking hard
Your Weaknesses: my libido… Can’t seem to go down. Have to be barred from erotica novels and anime for my own good but isn’t.
Your Perfect Pizza: beef, mushrooms, tomato paste, and topped with mozzarella cheese and jalapenos

Layer THREE - Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
Your thoughts first waking up: AArrgghh!!!! Prince Charming was just about to snog me!!! Come back! Come back!!!
Your Bedtime: Anytime I feel like it.
Your most missed memory: waking up at ungodly 6.30 am in Granny’s home and smelling Great Gran’s (GG) infamous aroma of black-kopi-from-proper-local-kopi-hoon-brew-in-sock. Yup, I drank kopi very very early in life….kindergarten years….and I drank from the best source too.

Layer FOUR - Your Pick
Pepsi or Coke: None. Makes me burp bubbles. But if I must, coke.
McDonald’s or Burger King: Definitely Burger King lah!
Adidas or Nike: Nike because I want to pretend I’m a sports-person
Lipton tea or Nestea: Lipton Tea
Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate.
Cappuccino or coffee: Kopi-Si Siu Dai. Or late GG’s Kopi-O-that one no fight. Wish she was still around….

Layer FIVE -Do You
Smoke: Never ever wanted to. Saw Uncle die of lung cancer….terrible. Doctor cut out the lung to show auntie the cancer….
Curse: progressive. From normal eggs to smell eggs and graduating to fuck and now got CCB liao… If you don’t know CCB, I hope you remain clueless and will not meet anyone that deserves the label.

Layer SIX - In The Past Month
Drank alcohol: Lotsa beer and vodka mixes in the office. Lotsa wine at parties…
Gone to the mall: Just during the weekend for post x’mas sale. :)
Been on stage: No. Got stage fright.
Eaten sushi: Nope, too healthy for my taste.
Dyed your hair: all the time!

Layer SEVEN - Have You Ever?
Played a stripping game: I wanted to!!! Anyone up for it? I suck at Poker!!!
Changed who you were to fit in: Who never?

Layer EIGHT
Age you’re hoping to be married: right on schedule!!!
Layer NINE - In A Girl/Guy
Best eye colour: Anything. Good to hug can liao.
Best hair colour: Anything. Good to hug can liao.
Short or long hair: Anything. Good to hug can liao.

Layer TEN - What Were You Doing
1 minute ago: pretending to work while doing this meme.
1 hour ago: small-talk with satisfied client…O.O
4.5 hours ago: reading a storybook at my cubicle. (came early lah! Office hour haven’t start yet!)
1 month ago: Busy working. Dec was a killer month with high pickings. :)
1 year ago: Teaching and having a cushy life in Uni.

Layer ELEVEN - Finish The Sentence
I love: to have an easy life, one where money is no longer a concern and I could buy any books I feel like without cringing and spent the days reading and reading and dissociating. Better yet, be a librarian or live right beside a library so I'll never run out of things to read. hmmm....and A, of cos....ahem....
I feel: happy enough right now to daydream about what I’d love to do but know that I’ll have to shelve it for later. Next time, next time. One day, I shall own Terry Prachett’s Unseen University cut-out book, you’ll see.

I hate: people who disrespect me and my expertise in my work just because they think they are PHDs, Post-Grads, Scholars and therefore automatically think they know more than I do.
I hide: my sex-addict thoughts most of the time from most friends. Oh…so now you know....
I miss: GG….and her Kopi-O. My late hamster. That silly pussy cat at the void deck. And A, of cos.....6 more hrs to seeing him...
I need: nothing. I am happy. I think.

I mean, I'm breathing and the air is clean and I've got enough to eat and a place to sleep.

Layer TWELVE - Tag 5 People
Anyone who will benefit from this exercise and who reads me. :)

That's all!

out!

akk :)

Happy New Year!!!

2006-12-29T15:50:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Thanks to all you well-wishers out there that have made my x'mas just a little much more better and meaningful. I've not been blogging because of something which I will be posting up soon. Just like to say that everything's hunky dory and pretty well-rounded in terms of highs and lows in the year 2006.

In fact, it has been such an eventful year for me, changing jobs, getting married, moving house. Oh yes, everyone keeps asking me when's the ceremony? I'd like to say that I'll probably serve my tea to both sides of my folks and that will be that. But I seem to have friends who are ready to whip out their wallets to do a generous bit of charity (i.e. me), so perhaps when I'm finally debt-free, I might actually book a restaurant for them so they can shower me with their gifts and cash-cheques. This debt-free thing, while it might occur when I'm alive, will definitely occur when I'm in the grave, so the dinner amounts to the same thing ('choi choi!!!').

recently, i have been taken for a ride on Neil Gaiman's new book 'Fragile things'. if you like freakiness and sadism, this is it. It's a collection of short stories, one of which I'm totally disturbed, which is why it makes for such a good read. For him, it might be best to leave reason and logic on the doorstep before entering, he is never sensible and always fantastical.

When I have time, I'll share his shorter stories here.

Today, topic is about nightmares. Someone once told me that dreams and nightmares stops where the knowledge ends. Eg, if you have never been kissed, then you may dream of it, but you'll not feel the lips. it'll be like empty air.

hmm....actually to digress abit--- if this person is correct, how come when I dreamt this porno-sci-fi dream where I got raped hibitually by my robotic hubby, I can actually feel his small sharp tentacle jabbing into me? The feeling was so profound and utterly indescribable that I woke up startled by the wierdness. Almost immediately I slap my head for stupidity and tried my best to go back to sleep, hoping to dream out the entire episode so I can experience the rendering without going through the actual event.

That was back in 1998.

And seriously, you ain't old till you start recalling the exact year instead of saying, 'last time,....'

More about that dream next time.

For this nightmare, I had it in 1997. My family had moved to a mansionette to make more room for my lil' brother. I had a big bedroom all to myself. It must have been during the time when my dad was retrenched and trying his hardest to get another job during the economic downturn. The family was running fairly well on savings and my mum was pulling double-loads giving tuition and keeping us fed. We kids all worried, nevertheless.

I can never forget that night out of the many nights of slumber and stress. It was dead quiet in my room because I had the windows closed because it was raining. Only the whirring fan broke the abject silence and ear-ringing. It was meant to be a cosy night ensconced in my bed, which was placed against the wall. I have the habit of sleeping with my back right against a solid object, a remnant learnt from another nightmare.

The square room was cast in grey and blue shadows-- a still-frame if not for the fan turning silently in one quiet corner.

So that was when I woke up. Blearily opened 1 eye and about to burrow into the blankets before I noticed my big bro. He was in the middle of my room.

A long straight figure with his crumpled head slumped. Suspended, he swung to and to from my ceiling light. Somehow he had shifted my study chair from the study table to the middle of the room and used it to hang himself from the ceiling.

What made the whole situation more horrifying was that although his body amd limbs was deathly still, he swung violently to and fro.

'Gor...' I whimpered, hoping to squeeze against the wall harder but paralysed.

In response, the body swung harder. I knew then that it wanted to snap the rope to get to me....

My heart thudded so strongly I woke up hyperventilating. For the longest time, I couldn't fall asleep because I was too scared to close my eyes. I was sure that not only will I have the same dream again, it will be a continuation of it, this time, the rope will snap and I wouldn't be able to open my eyes.

If only I could also peel my eyes off my study chair, which was exactly where my nightmare left it.

In the middle of the room and beneath the ceiling lights.

Out!

Akk

Happy New Year!

Cheeky lil' Bro....

2006-12-13T09:50:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

A prelude to this christmas...

Met my brother a couple of days ago for dinner. Halfway thruough the char kway teow, i noticed he was staring at me very very intently...

AKK: *preening* what what? Chio Bu never see before issit? Must stare until eye drop out.

Bro: Eh, sorli hor, u chio, I strike toto hor. Ay ay, ask you ah...very personal question hor....don't scold me.

And a million different personal questions flitted through my mind....hmm... sex? (always top the list) hubby? gf-bf problems? and so on.

AKK: oh why leh? got something so important must ask permission to say one ah?

Bro: *still staring at AKK* Yah, this question confirm.

AKK: *pause to think* OK lah, now I must know the question liao... Say say...

Bro: Is it just me or are your cheeks sagging?

AKK: ...........

Bro: What what?!!! You say can ask one what!!

Bro: *frying under AKK's glare* OKOK, actually I don't think so lah...not sagging lah...

AKK's heartbeat and blood pressure start to slow down....

Bro: *take cue from AKK* Ya, your cheeks not saggy...... they are probably just fat...

Out!

AKK

Revealing myself finally....

2006-12-03T19:38:00.000+08:00

Edited with most spelling mistakes taken out. Ya ya, was rushing the entry and since I got fat, so have my fingers.....1 type, 2 keys....

Hi all!

I know I have been so utterly remiss in posting my entries. Nothing interesting actually. In fact, because lappy has been suffering a bit and feeling under the weather, I have stopped trying to bang on him recently (hur hur...) and instead tried to write my entries in the office PC.

Ok....so apparently I have been caught and given a big stern warning, especially after I typed 'porn' and 'gahmen' and 'blog'. My boss has given me some time-out and suspended my MSN.

In any case, I'm trying out the flickr thingy to see if it works as good as it sounds.

So yes! I'm gonna post up pics! And what pics are these, i hear you say? Oh...pics from my not-so-recent HK trip. i saw lots of stuff but I only got one thing to share... Just One.

Guess who I met???

This man....

WWAAAHHHH!!!!!!! I really met him, I really really met him!!! And he is soooo gorgeous, I had to take a pic with him!!! In fact, I lined up to get his pic, ok? The bloody Jap couple in front of me had so many tries!!!

And so because seeing him is such a worthy experience, I , ANG KU KUEH, shall throw away thine Mantle of Elusivenss and Mystery!

I, AKK, shall cast the Towel of Obscurity and Unveil the Silk from the Unseeing Eye.

I, AKK, shall finally reveal Myself in this Blog! YES!!!! In this blog! So that you may all share the Utter joy with me, of having Andy Lau, Plastered, yes!!! Plastered against My Body!!! *swoon*

Behold!!!! Throw the cobwebs from your eyes!!!

*Drum Roll.....*

Aaahhhhhhhh..............Joy..........

Out!

AKK

2006-12-01T13:31:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

The following is a mirror of Jaywalk's site. The standard chartered marathon is taking place on the 3rd of Dec, 2006, which is this SUNDAY!! Of cos, this time, the RFF won't be getting funds for their running. Instead, they are running to thank those who have helped, big or small.

But wait! this doesn't mean that once RFF isn't getting any funds this year, we can take a breather and keep away the money/sweat....In fact, I was slightly upset because I had already saved a bit for this purpose.

If you are doing it as I have done, then why not shuttle to others who need the help? I'll be splitting to MILK and ST Pocket Money Fund.

While the year is ending, let me wish you all a fantastic Christmas December ahead and while you are mulling over what to get for your family and friends, remember there are kids out there worried over more difficult things.

Another idea: How about doing a donation in your loved ones' name? My Uncle recently donated $5 under my name for the Cancer Foundation, which is quite touching. If the operator had not called me to confirm my IC no., I would not have known about it. So you go, Uncle V! i promise not to call you uncle ever again after this. :)

Without further ado, here's the mirror. :)

Dear All,

This week, we have featured folks who shared their thought on how we can all contribute to plug small gaps in our welfare system. I hope it has triggered some thoughts on how you can make a difference to someone's life. It need not be a $10million donation to a foundation. It just needs to be an act from the heart.

Maybe you can buy a cup of coffee for the cleaning Ah Soh in your company who is struggling to make ends meet.

The principle stays the same. If you don't do anything about it, there can be no change. As Ghandi said, "Be the change you want to see in this world."

I would like you to leave a comment on how you will be a change agent in your small way.

My parting words...

"The smallest good deed is better than the grandest intention"

- Adrian

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Sad Ping Pong Queen

2006-11-28T11:45:00.001+08:00

hi all!

My circle of colleagues typically end the week of work by booking the office table-tennis er...table to have some ping-pong session. Being naturally bad at anything resembling sports, I was the one they kept pushing to 'play more play more!'. This is really what I call a great crowd, mindful of newcomers and made sure they feel welcome. That, or they just wanna watch me run all over the place trying to catch their whirling pink lightnings.

It was here that I got to experience most of my colleagues’ fantastic, even operatic moves on the ping pong table. Watching them play, you can almost imagine the Chinese fan whipping out and all the ‘fei-piaos’ at the ready…..

During another one of colleague G’s moves that prompt me to hallucinate flowing scarves ala Zhang Zhiyi in House of Daggers and had me running all corners of the rooms, spraining my back to pick up the balls, I had to ask..

‘Wah, G. Who teach you your ping pong skills? So fast….’

‘Heh. I learn from the best! My ex-bf taught me one.’

‘He must have been very good at it.’ *pant pant* Another hurtling ball missed me by inches.

‘Yup, he is. But I improve very fast becos of the way he teaches me.’

‘Like how? Video-taping and showing you your mistakes?’ I was thinking about how a swim-coach normally deals with his trainees.

‘Nope, even simpler.’ And looking at me in the eye without any inflection at all, she replied, ‘He used me as a target.’

At my face of incredulity, she elaborated, ‘He said the best way to force me to learn is to aim all his ping pong balls at me hard, so I’ll be extremely compelled to catch them before they hit me.’

I wondered if by her frankness, she was testing or judging me on the type of response to give. So I went for another question.

‘Did it hurt?’

A pause. ‘But of course....’

And I wondered if her answer had a deeper meaning than it was intended.

We let the pink ball move back and forth across the table a while longer in silence.

Then I said, ‘I’m glad he’s your ex, then.’

We looked each other fully in the eye again before hers slid away. I had been accessed and found wanting. She probably got a lot of similar responses like these which she did not agree with.

‘At least he stayed with me for 7 yrs. I wondered how he could have done that, you know.’ Defensive stance.

‘And why not?’ Perhaps she had been a difficult GF?

‘Well, I used to look like this.’ She took out her ID pass and showed me her photo.

In there was a picture taken only 2 yrs ago when she first joined up.

It showed a gal who has, frankly, a very rotund face. It was round like a moon, with cheeks you can squeeze and jiggle.

What a complete change to her present state. She now looks healthily built and toned.

Now, I became more puzzled, and something close to anger surfaced. We stopped the game (after I lost all 3 rounds) and I pressed, ‘What did that have to do with him staying by your side for 7 years?’

‘Don’t you think there’s something admirable about him wanting to be with such an obese gal for 7 long years?’

There was an inner light in her eyes when she said it, obviously for the ex-bf who was courageous, brave and invincible for daring to go against convention to hang out with a plump gal for so long. She had forgotten the blue-blacks she had taken from his training. I bet she must have been thinking he was very noble for even taking time out to train her in his favourite sport.

I felt sorry for her. Right now, I would say that she looked great. She isn’t exactly thin, but hey, she’s got curves rather than angles where curves ought to be. She dresses well and walks well and does her job with great pride. She’s very well-educated too. In fact, her academic qualifications are much higher than his, which prompt me to wonder if he didn’t have a streak of malevolence because of this.

But that’s the thing. I always thought that education can increase a person’s self-worth. If you know more facts about the world, feel good that you can do many things, have pride in your responsibilities and abilities to carry them out, shouldn’t that make you feel less indispensable in Life than others who are less educated and feel less in control?

But for G, no matter how well she works or looks, she’ll always see a worthless fat person in the mirror that she despises. I contend that her self-worth wasn’t there because she did not love herself very much. And funnily, that got me really pissed.

I was angry because the world seem made for the bold and the beautiful. Skinny twigs with perfect hair and teeth. Never mind they weren’t very useful in anything else but looking pretty. They earned the equivalent of my annual salary a day just by walking, a skill we all learnt when we were 3 yrs old. We fawn on them, we want to be like them, we want to live their lives and just for an instant, G and all who are like her, wanted to experience that kind of fixated attention that men gave to them.

And people like G, smart, funny, kind and plays a mean game of ping-pong, gets sidelined into thinking she should be grateful for any kind of attention bestowed on her. I later found out that she has been that type of gf found only in romantic MTVs, where the gal does stuff like make soup, cakes, cookies and wrap them up nicely to give her man. She routinely treats him to candle-lit dinners and gives him wake-up calls. That fucker should be grateful that someone would even give him the time of day, much less someone like her.

Sad to say, her current squeeze also seemed destined to be shaped from the same same cookie-cutter. He has tried to dump her once already, citing that his diploma-holding personality makes him feel inferior to her honours background. Of cos, she begged him to come back, which he did. When I heard about it, I had a feeling it’ll end up the same way again.

When you don’t love yourself, how can anyone love you? Your whole being relies on self-love to project a certain image to the world. If the world sees you as inferior as you see yourself, you’ll agree with it. But the world got its first impression of you from you. It’s all a vicious cycle.

OK, I’m rambling, I know. I’m still mad also. After I argued with her, she started apologizing profusely. I wanted her to stand up for herself and yet, I don’t want her to stand up for herself on views like these.

I don’t know what I want. She confuses me.

Because when I look in the mirror, sometimes another person stares back at me.

Out,

AKK

Getup, Get out and Move on!

2006-11-24T09:18:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Long time no write! today, blogging is a like a breath of fresh air from recent events, which I am happy to say, are tuning down and slowing up. Of cos, coming back out of it requires some time, so as of today, still nothing funny to write except for one small issue.

which will be placed at the bottom.

force you to read what i saying next....ahem...

To my happiness, I have found some ways to combat feelings of lowness. this may not apply to you guys, but it works for me.

So I've decided to write it here, so I don't forget. If you find this helpful, well, I'd like a cup of Kopi please.

Recently, have been told by a fren that some bloggers are consistently depressed about Life and he wonders why. On the basis of research, I also kapohed and had a look into one of which he described.

5 mins into reading, I had the gist of X's life. She's young, she loves good food and pubbing, she's living with her parents. She posts many pics of herself in alluring poses, low necklines and half-exposed breasts. She takes pics in which she thinks are reflective /thinking poses....

Do you know inside every fat nice person is a skinny mean person thinking bad thoughts that get censured by said fat nice person before it's being let out?

Just for looking at those pics, Mini-me didn't just think bad thoughts, she almost knocked my teeth out to get them said.

X's depression is that, in addition to being broke all the time, she is also unemployed. There's a whinging quality about her that seems to impress others that she is a victim of an affluent society, denied her dream of becoming rich by doing nothing and living off frens, sees her life as a serial drama steeped with fairy tale, waiting for someone to see beyond her brittleness into her soft warm insides.

And sweep her off her feet, preferably with cash.

OK. So I dun like X and her ideas. X is equivalent to Life's Styrofoam board.

Snaps easily, drifts with the currents, filled with air.

Compared to a lot of other fellow hardworking citizens trying to make ends meet, her lazy griping persona is hard to stomach. She's unemployed by choice and gets by doing small part-time stints. By her lifestyle, I guess she spents every penny she earns. She certainly visits more restaurants, KTV, pubs in a week than I go a month.

I remembered I was resigned by the GST hike, afterall, the gov't already warned us that the hikes are going to kick in within 3-5 yrs. I also understood, in terms of economy, the hikes are to tax material spending to spread the money back to the needy. While I'm skeptical this works, other ways would too generalised.

So while I'm silently whining a bit that I've got to curb my spending, reading X complaining bitterly about GST also, about the Govt overlooking her welfare, made me slightly ashamed to be anyway associated with her and her own spendthrift, fala-dee-dee lifestyle.

haiz....I really don't like her views....

but ENUFF! A few things to curb depression!

1) Only ever tell it to 1 or 2 trusted friends. That's enuff frens to keep update because really, the less I talk about it, the less I wallow in it. and also, not a lot of ppl want to hear about my problems, so why ruin their mood?

2) Silence is inifitely golden. I get ppl coming to tell me about their problems. After hearing them, thank goodness I kept my mouth shut.

3) Tell myself it's going to get better and this is only a phase. Of cos, should make all the necessary decisions to bring yourself out of the misery. Sorry lah, no one can really help you if you don't help yourself first.

4) Always see the funny side of things. In fact, I managed to give my office colleagues a tiny magic show. I levitated off the ground---yah yah, can be done, next time show you, heheheh. And secondly, amid all their protest that I had a big fat butt, I demonstrated otherwise.

I held 2 pencils using my bottom-butt-cheek.

One beneath each cheek. Yeah.

It's a sight you don't see everyday.

And I left the office feeling remarkably happy that I left a party of 15 frens rolling over their seats in stomach cramps.

That's all. Keep happy, all!

OUT!

AKK:)

being depressed

2006-11-20T09:25:00.000+08:00

hi all...

Have been depressed these few days lah... lots of stuff to worry about, ie work, life, love, time....

so nothing funny happening at all, so might as well don't churn out depressing entries....

No worries though, things will only get better, as always. And perhaps i now having PMS, that might account for a lot of mislaid emotions.

Till then, guys!

Hanging in there,

AKK

Will you help?

2006-10-31T10:40:00.001+08:00

Hi all!

If there's anything you would find out about me when it comes to charity, is that I champion Blood Donation above other forms. In fact, I think I have talked about it on a few occassions. Below the surface of that post, is a need to urge people to understand that charities, all well and good, can't always be about MONEY, SWEAT and extra hours of community service.

Some forms of charity require blood and marrow. A person can be the wealthiest man alive and thinks he requires no help and is not needy, but once struck by illness that only someone else can help him with, no amount of money can take away his mortality if there is no one to offer him a part of themselves.

What I am saying is: you may have built a rock-solid future stockpiled in cash, property, education. You think you'll not ever be needy nor be at the mercy of goodwill.

If you think like this, then you'd better be in the pink of health. We are all human and while our lifestyles make us think that there are multitudes of differences between us all, we are all one species. If a giant should look at us, we will look no different to him as we would view a nest of ants. We are all the same.

OK, perhaps I'm sounding slightly exasperated. Money I make all the time as long as I work. Ask friends for donation and all hands on the wallet to whip out a note. I am grateful for that. But things like Blood and Bone marrow? Everyone runs the other way. I respect your choice. I understand how the sight of needles and blood makes some ppl quake, this is actually the best reason of all. I understand that alot take diet pills so perhaps their blood isn't fit for transfusion. I even understand that why most would forgo bloodletting because they'd like to be below 45KG and scarless. Vanity deafeats us all.

So I'm plugging another drive again, this time for bone marrow donation. A friend of a friend has been dealt a swift blow. No matter if we act, look, feel 100% hale and healthy. There is sometimes no explanation why a normal person intent on living Life to the fullest can be diagnosed with a major illness. Same way a bunch of ants wonder why another ant, seemingly hardworking and beneficial to a colony, can be squashed by a person's idle fingers.

Do you want to take the necessary steps only when a close friend, relative, sibling get randomly picked for thumb-squashing? Or do you want to help now, in any you could, either by plugging Jaywalk or by telling others, or by getting yourself screened?

Because, seriously, that thumb might decide on you one day. Just because.

And then, you'll want to know that there are people out there, who have never seen you or talk to you, give you something of themselves so you can go back living your own Life to the fullest.

Forgive me for my agitation. Perhaps I am scientific by nature and hardly sentimental. The thought of a whole race of Man who have no idea that we are all like ants, that we all succumb to random bad luck, that we are not and never will be totally in control, squeezes my heart more than this lady's plight.

You see, I'm scared shitless. I donate blood, signed myself body for organ donation, and got screened at a previous marrow drive already. If one day, I or my loved ones should be thumbed down, I'd like to see my charity reciprocated. I would hate to know that I have done all these, only to end up dying or watching someone else die, just because others aren't doing what they should.

So you see? If you do it for others, you are doing it also for yourself. A prick of a needle in this bone marrow drive- what's it to you? Like an ant bite.

An Ant bite as a start to save a potential person's Life. How many people can say that?

I'll never know, but I've probably saved someone's life with my blood. And definitely narrowed the search for a marrow donor.

How about you?

Out!

AKK

Wah....A Singaporean 'Elite' speaks out!

2006-10-24T15:20:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

I've just recovered from work trauma during today's Hari Raya Holiday when I came to read on the article in the Strait Times about this AMK's MP daughter making a name of herself in bloggerdom. This Wee Shu Min gal, aiyo...I tell you, if you never read, must take time to read lah....it's a case of

buying a pc: $2K
writing a blog entry: 30 minutes
writing with your full name in your entry, dragging your dad's name through mud, demarcated a country into the elite and stoopid and create a news furore at the same time: priceless

OK in order to be fair, here's the one article that started it all. This is by Derek Wee:

**********************************************

By Derek Wee
Oct 12, 2006

When I read the Straits Times article (dated 24 Sep) on PM Lee calling the young to be committed and make a difference to Singapore, I have so much thought about the issue.

I am 35 years old, graduated from University and gainfully employed in a multinational company. But I cannot help but feel insecure over the future of Singapore. Lets face it, it’s not uncommon to hear, “when you are above 40, you are over the hill”.

The government has been stressing on re-training, skills upgrading and re-adapt. The fact is, no matter how well qualified or adaptable one is, once you hit the magical 40, employers will say, “you are simply too old”.

We have been focusing our resources and problem solving on low unskilled labour. But in reality, our managerial positions and skilled labour force are actually fast losing its competitiveness.

I travel around the region frequently for the past 10 years. It didn’t take me long to realise how far our neighbours have come over the past decade.

They have quality skilled workers, and are less expensive. When I work with them, their analytical skills are equally good, if not better than us.

It’s not new anymore. Taxi drivers are fast becoming “too early to retire, too old to work” segment of the society. I like to talk to taxi drivers whenever I am heading for the airport.

There was this driver. Eloquent and well read. He was an export manager for 12 years with an MNC. Retrenched at 40 years old. He had been searching for a job since his retrenchment.

Although he was willing to lower his pay expectations, employers were not willing to lower their prejudice. He was deemed too old. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have another No. 1; having the most highly educated taxi drivers in the world.

On PM Lee calling the young to be committed and make a difference. Look around us. How dedicated can we be to Singapore when we can visualise what’s in store for us after we turned 40? Then again, how committed are employers to us? But we can’t blame them. They have bottom lines & shareholders’ gain to answer to.

Onus is really on the government to revamp the society. A society that is not a pressure cooker. A society that does not mirror so perfectly, what survival of the fittest is.

But a society, where it’s people can be committed, do their best and not having to fear whether they will still wake up employed tomorrow. Sadly, Singapore does not offer such luxuries and security anymore.

On the issue of babies. The government encourages us to pro-create. The next generation is essential in sustaining our competitive edge. Then again, the current market condition is such that our future has become uncertain. There is no more joy in having babies anymore; they have become more of a liability. It’s really a chicken and egg issue.

Many of my peers, bright and well educated have packed up and left. It’s what MM Goh called “quitters”. It’s sad but true, Singapore no longer is a place where one can hope to work hard their lives and retire graciously. It’s really the push factor.

A future is something we sweat it out, build and call our own. Unfortunately, people like me, mid 30’s going on 40’s, staying put by choice or otherwise, we can’t help but feel what lies ahead is really a gamble.

To PM Lee and the Ministers, we are on a different platform. Until you truly understand our insecurity, the future of Singapore to me remains a question mark.

**************************************************

So ok hor? Not too heavy, I hope? Now here's the reply from the zarbor:

**************************************************

mom’s friend sent her some blog post by some bleeding stupid 40-year old singaporean called derek wee (WHY do all the idiots have my surname why?!) whining about how singapore is such an insecure place, how old ppl (ie, 40 and above) fear for their jobs, how the pool of foreign “talent” (dismissively chucked between inverted commas) is really a tsunami that will consume us all (no actually he didn’t say that, he probably said Fouren Talern Bery Bad.), how the reason why no one wants kids is that they’re a liability in this world of fragile ricebowls, how the government really needs to save us from inevitable doom but they aren’t because they are stick-shoved-up-ass elites who have no idea how the world works, yadayadayadayada.

i am inclined - too much, perhaps - to dismiss such people as crackpots. stupid crackpots. the sadder class. too often singaporeans - both the neighborhood poor and the red-taloned socialites - kid themselves into believing that our society, like most others, is compartmentalized by breeding. ridiculous. we are a tyranny of the capable and the clever, and the only other class is the complement.

sad derek attracted more than 50 comments praising him for his poignant views, joining him in a chorus of complaints that climax at the accusation of lack of press freedom because his all-too-true views had been rejected by the straits times forum. while i tend to gripe about how we only have one functioning newspaper too, i think the main reason for its lack of publication was that his incensed diatribe was written in pathetic little scraps that passed off as sentences, with poor spelling and no grammar.

derek, derek, derek darling, how can you expect to have an iron ricebowl or a solid future if you cannot spell?

if you’re not good enough, life will kick you in the balls. that’s just how things go. there’s no point in lambasting the government for making our society one that is, i quote, “far too survival of fittest”. it’s the same everywhere. yes discrimination exists, and it is sad, but most of the time if people would prefer hiring other people over you, it’s because they’re better. it’s so sad when people like old derek lament the kind of world that singapore will be if we make it so uncertain. go be friggin communist, if uncertainty of success offends you so much - you will certainly be poor and miserable. unless you are an arm-twisting commie bully, which, given your whiny middle-class undereducated penchant, i doubt.

then again, it’s easy for me to say. my future isn’t certain but i guess right now it’s a lot brighter than most people’s. derek will read this and brand me as an 18-year old elite, one of the sinners who will inherit the country and run his stock to the gutter. go ahead. the world is about winners and losers. it’s only sad when people who could be winners are marginalised and oppressed. is dear derek starving? has dear derek been denied an education? has dear derek been forced into child prostitution? has dear derek had his clan massacred by the government?

i should think not. dear derek is one of many wretched, undermotivated, overassuming leeches in our country, and in this world. one of those who would prefer to be unemployed and wax lyrical about how his myriad talents are being abandoned for the foreigner’s, instead of earning a decent, stable living as a sales assistant. it’s not even about being a road sweeper. these ****bags don’t want anything without “manager” and a name card.

please, get out of my elite uncaring face.
posted at 12:08 PM

And here was her public apology on one of the blogs that were discussing her entry :
i apologise if i have distressed you with my tendency to rant. while i will not dispute some of the points you make in response to what i have written, i would like to bring to your attention the fact that the post in question was never meant to be a cogent response to the specific points raised in derek wee’s article. it is, quite obviously, a rant in the heat of the moment. in addition, i don’t believe that my blog has the wide readership of derek wee’s, or even your own, and my intention was more to vent my own frustrations than public denouncement.

i’d also like to clarify my use of the word “elite”. while i understand how misinterpretation may have arose, i intended to use it in irony, as a label that people assume i enjoy, and not one that i take particular pleasure in.

finally, i admit that i was harsher than i should have been, although the the crux of my belief in self-improvement and self-determination has not changed. once again, i apologise if my words have unintentionally offended you - i was under the rather naive impression that nobody reads my blog

*************************************************************

Hey, the purpose of this entry today is not to add oil to the frying pan liao, I think she's doing a good job of it so far trying to set herself on fire.

I just want to say that her dad? that AMK MP? Yup, he also 'elite' hor, Raffles all the way, then Stanford and yadda.

Guess where she got all her teachings, inspiration, social conscience from? Yup, no need to be aghast at the daugther when its the Dad and the Family who brought her up. This is called mei you jia jiao. Confirm its because Papa like that, daughter also like that.

Some one's paying the price for his actions and it's certainly not Derek Wee.

And to all those scholarship hopefuls out there, perhaps you should be glad you did not get in, because- can you imagine the type of people you might meet? and the type of personality erosion you might suffer?

Buddha Forbid.

Haiz.....I fear for Singapore.

OUT!

AKK

How AKK's brain is functioning....

2006-10-17T20:27:00.000+08:00

work work work work work work work work work work sex work work work work work work work work work sex work work work work work work work work work work eat work work work work work work sleep work work work work work work work work work work work work work workwe loormw work wowek work work work workw orke sleep slerrp slepep slurr .....

and that's how everything breaks down.....

OUT....

AKK.....*collaspe*

A trip to HSA

2006-10-09T20:15:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Man, have I been fricking busy! I thank you all for your fine comments in the previous and previous previous blog. Although I often wondered how come nobody actually tried to ask more deeply into the problem of me being attracted to some one older…..

Oh hell, never mind, I’ll talk about it now…

Yes! I admit! I got crush! In fact, I’d be the first person to say that although you may be attached/married/arranged by grandparents to enter a stranger’s life and become part of his family, we all, yes, we all! Still have eyes that can see, ears that can hear! OK?! I admit! Hands up!

Do not take out thy sight nor block thy ears nor cover thy skin just because you are ‘taken’. This is a free world, there is no ownership, love should never be described nor seen as such. Love is not slavery nor self- prohibition, but agreeing that when all is said and done, there is always somewhere else you want to belong with, a place, a person; that you’d rather be with, even after seeing-eyes and hearing-ears.

To move with the times, Love is no longer the same definition as when our parents came together. And was never the definition then when our grandparents came together.

So back to the crush, as all crushes go, this one went by pretty fast. First he looked like delectable Harrison Ford to me (HF being my all-time favourite lao-ah-pek crush). Now, he now looks just like a Ford, ie. efficient and generally trusty, but not much fanfare. So after this period of moral enquiry, that leaves only the ‘taking second glances at the more distinguished profs’, ‘imaging Daniel Wu strapped and naked on the bed’ and ‘enjoying another older colleagues lilting Scottish brogue’ kinda-fantasies left to be savoured and morally dissected.

Ah! To be human and conscious about your thoughts is the woe of Man.

But I digress! Today, I shall be talking about the myth of blood donation.

I have been donating blood on and off since a nondescript email was spammed to me in the 90s, asking for donors to save the life of a Timothy Chan Ho somebody. A little leukemia-stricken boy. Bolstered that finally an email is asking specifically for my own blood type, I went to HSA and asked to donate to him.

Only to be told that while HSA is extremely grateful for the blood I shall donate, there are many other kids, not just him, who’ll require immediate attention and that my blood shall be given in order of priority. Because for every child who’s had publicity and help through internet and email-forwarding, there are a lot of others who don’t.

Remember that. Everything that you know is always the tip of an iceberg. But every drop of blood that comes out from my arms can perhaps mean a few more minutes to live. To some people, these minutes mean the difference between closure and a lifetime of hanging ends, words unsaid and unheard.

Always remember that there is no action too small that will help or harm a person.

Ah! But off with these heavy words! I was talking about the myth of blood donation. I had heard it many many times, coming from first-timers, old-timers and no-timers (ie, never try before). In fact, most culprits are plump auntie first-timers nervously fretting on the donation couch, seriously regretting their burst of charity after seeing the nurse rip open the needle syringe package.

‘Mee-si, mee-si,’ they quavered. ‘I heard blood donation makes you fat. Is it true?’

To which the nurse will sweep her arm across the room and ask, ‘Auntie, you got see any fat ppl or not?’

Which always makes my wildly happy because I was included in the radar of ‘got any fat ppl or not’ while she swung her antennae fingers and forgets to stop where I am.

So you see, there is a more sinister reason for me wanting to donate blood. Other than the compulsory feeling of the brotherhood bond with Mankind that I am giving Life to the needful, is the feeling that on the contrary to auntie’s last-minute back-out line, I actually feel that I lost weight after donating.

And because of the digital scale in the doctor’s room during checkup.

Yup. You heard right.

Since blood donation is a commitment of every 3 months, every 3 months, I’d be asked by the doc to step onto the scale to weigh myself. And that particular scale, I have given it the honour of being the most accurate scale around in my Life. Let’s face it, normal bathroom scales are always a + or – of 2kg and even when I’m sick, my GP never asks me to measure my weight.

Ever since I started donating blood, my weight has been steadily declining from a cushiony 58 kg to plateau at my current 47kg. Of cos, I had been exercising over the years but certain things you just tend to equate one with the other. That said, it was a plateau I'm delibrately keeping since you aren't allowed to donate if you are 45kg and below.

Since I’ve become the borderline of ‘can or cannot donate blood because you have too little mass’, that scale is a constant fixture that I’d see every 3 months. And like an old friend whose name I’d forgotten, the doc would introduce us again. I’d catch up with it by climbing on top and update it the happenings (food intake and lack of exercise) in the past 3 months. It almost always tells me I’m keeping my weight at constant and that’s usually around 47kg. To which I’d proudly announce to the doc, who’ll tick my name in the form and proclaim me fit for blood donation.

So recently, the urge to do good and meet my old friend came back round again. A happy occasion, I walked in HSA feeling like a veteran, filling the form nonchalantly because I knew every single question.

Then when the doctor called my name, I did not hesitate once. I was excited that my old friend shall soon proclaim me a healthy 47kg and allow me to drip enough blood to fill a Yakult bottle.

The doc and I did the normal-- blood pressure, questioning of general health. Finally the doctor stopped scribbling and turned the page over to fill in my weight. I waited for the doctor to introduce me to that shy contraption at the side of the room.

He looked up with a bright smile.

‘OK! We’re done! Please proceed on to the glass door on the left.’

‘But….but….what about my weight?’ I glanced at the beckoning scale.

‘Well, what about it?’

‘Don’t you need to know my real weight?’ I was frankly aghast at his rudeness and lack of social cue.

‘Oh, that!’ laughed the doctor. ‘No worries! You definitely can donate blood.’

‘But you still need to fill up my weight!’ Last ditch attempt and frankly shaken out of routine, I pointed out the blank on the form.

‘Oh, that’s OK. You look like…hmmm…....' a pause. 'You look like you weigh 55kg.’

Missing my look of open-mouth horror, he neatly flourished the number ‘55’ onto the blank. Just like that.

So while invisible shards of glass pierced mercilessly through me, he callously added, ‘and that’s 10kg pass the official weight limit. So you’re safe to donate. I can TELL.’

AAARRGGHHHHH!!!! AARRGgghhhhh!!!!!!! aaaRRgghhhh!!!!!!!!

While I was silently agonising, he flipped my past records and quipped, 'hmmm....I can see your weight's now back to your first few donations, what happened?'

'I got married.' I mumbled in shock, hands moving over my suddenly slack thighs...

'Congratualations then, so both myths are true!'

'What myths?' Unconciously, I rolled out my suddenly obvious expanding love handles with my hands.

'That blood donation and marriage can make you fat, of cos. what else?'

.......Choujidan…..Blood donation will never be the same again……….

Out!

AKK

Run For Funds!!!

2006-10-04T09:22:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Another year, another marathon and another bunch of kids get given a hand to help them along. Welcome to the RunForFunds Project where every fund gets given to the children and none get choked in red tape, admin or corruption. Jaywalk has asked to help out on awareness, but I think its neccesary anyway since it's only a good thing to announce good intentions and they actually do not entertain anonymous donations.

So interested parties can click on the link to Jaywalk's post to find out what its all about. Those who periodically run marathons *hint hint to SibehSian*, can actually do it for a good cause. How about that for both hobby and karma?

that's all!

Out!
AKK

The Chronicles of C, Vol. II -- Liking older men…

2006-09-17T22:19:00.000+08:00

Warning: a rambling post…

Ok ok, I know most of u out there are probably aghast at the title already. Most usually means the younger bunch whose version of right and wrong is still a black/white painting, the morally-upright who paints in black and white and the religious who tries.

I’m here to tell you about my black/white. When I was younger, I was all of the above. It accounted for a lot of things that happened or didn’t happen to me. I saw my world in rights and wrongs and never thought that sometimes grey is a better shade. That means most of the time, I’m almost always a moral prick who, while accepting of others their own pursuits in life, is always tramping on my own adventurous streak.

As I grew older, I often got into fights with my parents, trying to plonk my Views on them. I’d get angry from reading the newspaper about Batam chicks and their S’pore husbands, ugly divorces and murders of passion, ie hubby kills wife because of infidelity. I started viewing from a high moral standing ground while my parents tries to explain away that sometimes, just because this aunty cheated on her hubby, it’s not because she is loose, it’s because…

And then I’d stop listening. Because listening to another side of the story, the aunt’s, would incur my sympathy and understanding. I didn’t want to be understanding, understanding will tip me off my pedestal. Yea, I really was such a prick.

Given a choice between experimenting some different but choosing a stable hard cold place, I’d take the latter.

If I wasn't so myopic, I would have gotten laid when I was 16, clubbing before 18 and probably tried ecstasy during then. Would have left S'pore for an overseas education, pursue the arts rather than science. Writing plays and acting for a living. Taken dance classes and compete.

I could have been such a different person if I wasn't so afraid of being brave.

Which is why I said I was boring. I didn’t really live my life the way I wanted it. I always chose stability and necessary evil over anything else. I had frens tell me they sian-half when I told them some of my near misses. Very hurtful, frens, and all too late to change the storyline. Because of these misses, I read and derive sensationalism and dissociation by reading instead.

I wished I had taken those steps though, just to make my life go out of line, just to plunge it into uncertainty, just to experience the emotional turmoil that might follow.

Why not? There’s only one life to live. People say to learn from other’s mistakes. Perhaps in work, that’s true. But Life? How do you truly learn other’s mistakes when you aren’t living theirs? Everyone has a different approach to problem-solving, everyone has a different set of solutions and choice with each same action.

So why am I saying all these? From my ‘hunky-dory’ voice blog to an abrupt question that I might have chosen my Life choices somewhat regretfully?

Because when you live Life through learning the mistakes of others, you are living life like a watered down teh-ping. Tasteless and dull. No life experiences to concentrate the tea and lots of one-side (meaning my own side) versions of the stories/mistakes melting like ice.

I’m not advocating young gals out there to take all that life is giving, the good, the bad, the ugly. I’m just saying that life isn’t all black nor white, so listen to both sides and decide the shade of grey it should be. Make informed choices and provisions for any losses that may occur.

And accept your frens for their own choices. Only leave them when they are too extreme and are influencing you the wrong way, like drugs, wrist-cutting, paid sex, destroying your relationship with your family etc etc. you know what I mean.

Some things are just black, and that includes people.

Why the title? Because it’s true. I have found in me the capacity to be attracted, even in holy matrimony, to another person way older. And I know exactly why.

Because I like his abandonment and his joy and lack of reserve. Ironically, I like his youthful outlook in Life in one so advanced in years when I cannot like the same attitude in someone younger.

I read in a book that infidelity is being unfaithful in your thoughts. Having thoughts you don’t share with your loved one but willingly tell another.

Oops! I am confused. So was I being infidel when I was…

1) Admiring my older colleague’s chest?
2) Fantasizing about having Daniel Wu tied and strapped naked to my bed?
3) Taking second glances at some of the more distinguished-looking Profs?
4) Listening in delight at the lilting melodic Scottish burr of another older colleague?

And deciding I should tell everyone here but my own adorable A?

Huh. Tough.

And then I have read that being attracted to another person even when married is a very common occurrence. Apparently I am among the millions and am truly the norm, the bulge in the middle of their demograph. I can admire men, their bods, their looks, in the privacy of my own thoughts.

And then it says, unfaithfulness is a matter of action. As long as you don’t act on it, you are not.

How grateful I was to read about it! I did not marry the wrong man! I am not unfaithful!

What I meant to say is, really, is that I can see why C likes that guy. She and I have come a long way and in terms of being nice and decent, we could have been nuns. At the very least, I was sex-deprived and I knew it and took pains to stopper it. She, on the other hand, was pure as snow, nary a bad, red-hot thought.

And on the question of being unfaithful, of being the 3rd party, of being in society’s assumption of black, is the question of how much of the other person’s story you want to hear and accept.

Remember the tale of the Emperor with No Clothes? It could have been the story of the Bad Boy who Spoke Disrespectfully of the Emperor, or the tale of the Town who Promoted Nudity or the Tale of the Emperor and his Big Pink.... Butt, even the tale of The Year All the Sheep Died.

It is not a matter of how black or how white.

It is a matter of how far back and how little of the story you want to hear.

How much will you hear before you judge?

Out

AKK

The loading of the links!!!

2006-09-04T16:09:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Finally I've found the perfect solution to permanently put up my voice blogs! Here are all (most) of them, so for those who have not had the chance to destroy your eardrums...well, here it is!

The back-by-popular-demand JihPahBan album:

Commentary- always always hear this before hearing the song

Choujidan- the extra behind the scene

JPB- the song that propelled this blog to notoriety

Mariah- the comeback single sure to chill you even in sunny singapore

The Miss N and AKK series: stars guest fren Miss N on her valuable contributions and countless giggling. There's no better audience....

Miss N and AKK on a quest- Quest for what? click to find out...

Conversation with Miss N about the treadmill- AKK goes to the gym...

The more serious Singsong for A:

Babytalk- hey, brown eyes, this is for you....

yup, that's all, folks, sorry for the re-runs, but i'm in the midst of editing another vblog right now, so if you guys just bear with me a while.....ahem......

Thanks all!

out!

AKK

Kam siah!

2006-09-04T11:25:00.000+08:00

hi all!

Very long time no see! Finally got a bit of time to relax, so thank you all for your time and all those finger-clicking onto my blog!

Finally learnt how to use a permanent link! hope it works!

Click here!

enjoy and love you all!

out!
AKK

Tomorrow is a Big day for me...

2006-08-30T19:41:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

I surmise from the title above that some ppl would be thinking exactly the things I want them to think. Which, if you haven't now, you'll be thinking furiously and hence end up thinking what I wanted you to think...either way works.....

No lah, only 'big', not humungous or gigantic...heheheh....if one day, i say GARANTUAN, it's probably time to bring out the champange and toast the rendering of my piece of tattered flesh to me...

For those who are still scratching their heads, then i applaud your mental innocence and hope that you'll find out about it in the best kind of way possible-experimentally and of own free will.:)

But as usual, I digress! Tomorrow's a big day for me because of work! Yes, work, my only other Life right now apart from...well...Life. It's now so huge, it's like a moon eclipse. we are running an event tomorrow that will make or break my supposed career, so the pressure's on to perform. (yes, although i did possibly mention my dream career is to be a nympho, i won't be performing any subtle cloth-ripping moves...sadly...)

So if you guys happen to suddenly go 'ting!' and a light bulb appear over your heads and you screamed, 'oh my GOD, so SHE's AKK!!!'. Please do so quietly hor. Thank you for reading my blog, but pls don't tell my colleagues, my friends, family, A etc etc...In fact, please come approach me and tell me and shake me by the hand. Tell me the secret password loudly and proudly

--what big red ang ku kuehs you've got there!--

.....and give me your name and address. :)

Bear in mind that my slapping you across the face is the second part of the password. Do not walk away from this point! Remain standing stock-still with big grin and stare at me till Security comes, that's the 3rd part! I shall meet you privately at the holding area later....

Leave your windows open tonite too....:)

I'm currently still stuck in my office, which is amazingly full of things I cannot wait to complain, but must shut up because I'm sure the office server picks up words like 'complain', 'boss', 'mistake', 'kopi?' and 'slack' like the US picks up 'bomb' and 'terrorist'. So it will be a mistake to complain about the boss in the midst of slacking while frens jio me 'kopi?' in word format and of cos, i'm too smart to do it, especially in my blog using the interent in my office.

So I shall say nothing. Except that tomorrow's a big day and if you guys don't hear from me here ever again, know that i love you all and would slap you (pretend only)if you were to shake me by the hand tomorrow and give me your name and address (after giving the password)....

Give me luck and to my dear tih-kong, I know i never seem to remember you when my life is good, but tih-kong, pls ba-you me tomorrow is shun-shun-li-li hor. Tih-kong, please twirl your magic over me so i may suddenly possess the knowledge of my professor times infinity, the voice of an angel and the vocabulary of a lawyer.

Kam Siah Kam Siah to infinity also.

ok liao, i better go do my work. You all take care hor. *hugz*

Out!

AKK

working...

2006-08-16T20:29:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Time is now 8.30pm and I'm still working....Haiz...but at least work is frankly extremely exciting and very unnerving... Damn stressful, must learn a lot. Oh well, hope you guys and gals out there are enjoying yourselves, ok? Miss you all so much, dun even have time for msn or even reading your blogs....is what i miss most...

see see?! i cannot even think straight liao. Those idiots (not naming who) had better increase my pay!!

a little thought:

why, and I mean it, do mature men like young girls and gals, on the whole, like married men?

Is there something different in young single gals that attract older men?
Is there something fascinating about married men that attracts single young girls?
why am I hearing so many incidences of it occurring?

So a sound-out to your pple to Leave your comments....

that's all, folks, I shall be free-er after the month of august. must continue working now...

out!
AKK

Busy Busy Busy.........

2006-07-19T11:09:00.001+08:00

In the new workplace, a conversation between AKK's supervisor and new BB (Big Boss) in the absence of AKK:

S: She's doing pretty ok. Although I think she is a bit of a retard, if you don't mind me saying.

BB: How's that?

S: She's always glassy-eyed and tends towards drooling. Happens everytime I talked to her.

BB: I know that symptom. I see it in my subordinates all the time. It's all down to brain power, you know? You gotta use the power. AKK seems to be always on 'standby'. Perhaps we can make her jot her brain a bit.

S: Like how?

BB: More Work lah. What else? Oh yes, we need to monitor her toilet breaks. She runs off to the restroom pretty often. She seems to have a bladder problem.

S: She has great thirst too, judging from all the trips she made to the dispenser.

BB: Well, as good employers, we've got to help her solve her mental and urinary problems. Next time you catch her smuggling down the hallway again, ask her to run over to your lab and help out the technicians.

S: And her bladder?

BB: Tough love. Cut down her trips to the restrooms and time her breaks.

S: Right you are, Sir. BTW, Sir, it's ingenious.

BB: Yes, of cos. Right, your time's up. You can drink up and go back now. That'll be the last trip for today.

S *inspired and runs off*

--------------------------------------------

So dear all, sorry for the lack of update, visits, hollers from MSN etc etc etc. Work beckons and my jobscope just expanded.

Argh.....but I'm loving it!

Out! (of love for you guys)

AKK

The HK Trip and the GSS

2006-06-29T13:31:00.000+08:00

Hi all!!!

Nadnut is quite excited about my buys in Hong Kong, so I've decided to splash all my stuff here to make her green with envy (or not), hur hur....

To all the guys out there, well, you can skip this post lah. It's all clothes and shoes and bag and accessories and.....

Take a look!!!

cotton white strap top with 3 white buttons and turquoise pants with elastic at the hem.

Bought these bags in Nathan Rd, rather like Singapore Orchard road. But frankly? pls go Argyle street for this Far East Plaza look-alike shopping mall crammed to the max with pretty good deals. But don't believe them when they tell you it's real leather. It's not. you can smell the difference.

petal-cut white bag with brown faux leather straps, super big bag. it's got a fabric lining inside, so it'll not fall apart like those plastic linings that rip from the seams.

on the right is a safari print fabric bag from Esprit Factory Outlet....it's only S$20!!!! *gasp!* when in HK, must must go to all those factory outlets, ok?!!! got super serious deals, man!!!

Green knit top with matching flower brooch from Argyle Street. White Pants I just bought from Queensway yesterday at $15 dollars for TWO Pairs!!!! Muahahaha! Eh...if only I can find back the same shop again though. Damn place is a maze....

My best buys in retail were these shoes! all in all, about S$15 a pop! Very nicely made fabric shoes! From Argyle street (see? what u waiting for? go!). First one is my personel favourite, with a grey elephant stitched onto each pair! Second is this rather-like-schoolshoe thingy drawn with a silver marker and edged with gold lining. 3rd is this sunny yellow open-toe wooden plats with silver lining. the 3rd is a bit uncomfortable and i'm a fraid it'll pinch. second pair is sadly very hastily put together, with the inner sole not well glued. I didn't find out till it's too late. so please make sure that u guys check your purchases before u leave the shop.

Oh yes! and here's some of my own works. I've been tinkering with beading recently and have been making some trinkets in preparation for a temple/charity booth drive in december! My colleague have me roped in for half a booth to display my stuff! Yay! it's great because as u can see from the works, I haven't got my jewellery-making thumbs up to scratch yet, so I'm learning still!

Okie! not a lot of wrds but there u have it! Nadnut, hope u are groaning in envy! muahahahaha! and for those who needs further details for HK, I'll try my best to help out!

Next blog shall feature my one single most favorite activity in HK and I'll be posting up a pic of me doing it! eh....sounds a bit wrong...oh, well...

Till then! OUT!

AKK. :)

This is not a GAME!!!

2006-06-22T15:23:00.000+08:00

hi all!

Man, Have I got something for you ladies out there! Yup!!! only ladies!!! unless you are gay, then this post is for you too!!!

This is not a game! in fact, it is MORE than a GAME!!!! I've since spend the last 1 hour trying to get those heavenly perky lips to melt the screen!!! perhaps I'm late and you have all seen it, but hell, have joy must share hor?!!! so I share!!!

there's this competition to make this really handsome man in an online website to kiss you!!!! ain't it fantastic?!! U have to try it out!!!! argghh!!! guys also!!! no kidding, he is too cute and it's too funny!

before you Click on this link, pls be reminded that since it's just a program, you may not need a real sentence to get a response out of him.

for s start,

you may try the following words, which i have used, and enjoy the effects.

check out the various reactions I have gotten him to do

'kiss' or 'smooch'

'handsome' 'gorgeous' and 'eyes'.

'flowers'

'beer'.

'love' and 'sex' can induce different responses too. pls also try 'gay'.

best reaction so far: 'strip' or 'topshop' and 'pants' and 'dance'

yes yes, i believe you guys knew what i asked him to do.....

enjoy! and if there's any more different reactions, pls tell me!!! and for the person who succeeded in making him kiss you, pls tell too! email me if you dun want others to find out! heheehhe......

out!!

AKK
just came back from HK, perhaps a post on all the stuff I bought? till next time then!!!

Chronicles of A vol 8.: I asked.

2006-06-12T10:24:00.000+08:00

hi all!

(oops about the punctuation! Too lazy to shift and too lazy to type on word doc.)

I decided to find out anyways. I figured if he didn't want to say anything about it, I'll probably have to really really start worrying. And since I have this lamentable habit to stick my head in the sand and hide, if I don't do it now, I'd have just remember that I have never asked him and have this little black hole of discontent that will manifest Ito inferiority complex like many years down the road.

Better to have it over and done with than to chew the freaking thing like cud in my four stomachs.

incidentally, I have not been online thru'out the whole week, hence I have not been able to reply to all your comments. I thank you all for the lovely advice. I particularly agree with jayaxe that a marriage cert isn't a absolute road to fidelity, which is why there is always a sense of guardedness about one's partner. Let's face it, it's really not him I worry about, it's the other girls around him that worry me. I think any woman who is decently self-conscious and has a slightly frayed sense of self-worth will agree to it.

but by the time I finished writing the previous entry and have some time to think, I worry less and less about that picture. In fact, when he came back around, I was even ready to let it go. afterall, it's a male thing to have some pin-ups somewhere. And cars are his favorite non-living object. Have a pretty gal draped over it is probably a bonus of sorts.

in any case, it was a fairly easy topic to broach, thankfully. All I have to do was just pop into his room while he was around and manuvereredrederd(when do I stop?) his head to the pile of pictures which he still left very openly on the table (I actually gave him time to realize the pile and see if he went into a flurry to hide them).

AKK: hello! What are these?

So much for tact and subtlety, sorry Zhebin, I cannot reach zhebinism enlightenment liao).

A: eh? What what? Oh , these? pics I took down from the office.

He was completely clueless to me singling out the 2 particular pics.

AKK: I mean these 2 lah. Who's she? Quite chio ah.

Never show fear! Pretend to like the pic as well as he, although you are dying to claw that woman's eyes out for looking so perfect. Admire it for ~~her~~ its worth. ~~it may be the only think she's good at.~~

A: Oh! Those! Last year's carshow. She asked me to take her pic.

AKK: what? She asked you? Confirm got lots of ppl taking her pic what, why she single you out?

I considered cutting out a her outline in red paper....

A: oh yah, of cos got a lot of ppl taking. But she asked me to take them.

My ah-mah's red wooden clogs will be wonderful in easing out all those creases on the paper....

AKK: Why?

A: cos she said she will not see any of those pics they took of her unless she asks, so she asked me, among some of them. She gave me her email so I can send them.

A couple of joss-sticks to burn spot where her Bambi eyes are....

AKK: hmmm....And you find it very normal? Her asking you, among all those hum-sup old perverts/lechers she could have asked to get the pics from? In any case, why you put the pics up in the office?

A: *suddenly looking alert and he peered closer at me* AAAyyyyyYYYyy??!!! You JEALOUS AH??!!

Maybe a cut-out of him also....

AKK: No I wasn't! I just think it's a tacky pick-up line. U mean u never thought she was trying to hook up with u meh?

A: yes, you are! And yes ah, I know she's trying to pick me up.

AKK: well, you could have said NO lor.

A: well, it's not everyday got chiobu want to pick me up lah. Anyway, you can tell from her looks that she probably has never been rejected outright before. scarly she turn into monster if I said sorry, I dun wan to take her pic or get her email add, then how? If got hansem boy tried to pick you up, u'd be flattered also mah.

AKK: *intrigued despite herself* so did you talk to her? How was she like?

A: Empty.

AKK: You are saying that to make me feel better.

A: No, really. She didn't know nuts about the car she was posing for.
And that summed up A's overall love for cars and all things cars....

upon further ~~interrogation~~ careful detecting, the office had a large noticeboard 'supposed to be filled with event pics' but had been sorely maltreated by the 80% male cohorts in the workplace. On top of pictures of company dinners and state affairs evident from his pile, there were also some 'eye-candy' contributions apart from his carshow gal.

AKK: so why did you have to take all the pics back?

A: Someone tacked a Sports Illustrated Calendar and pissed the boss. He took it down and asked us to revamp the board to a more suitable content.

I knew what that means....

AKK: Hypocrite!

A: ya lor, my fren hasn't recovered from having his calendar 'confiscated'.
So, once again, a much-ado-about-nothing.

I figured next time just ask liao, no need to pretend. Although we all like to project the worse case scenario, but seriously, there are a hundred and one reasons more that can perfectly answer that burning question.

Now, I just wish there was a Chocolate Show with lots of male models immersed in chocolate fountains and draped over chocolate sculptures.

out!!

AKK:)

Chronicles of A vol. 7: hmmm.....

2006-06-09T11:49:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

you know that when ppl get maried, we are all supposed to be trusting of one another. i think trusting A is all well and good, if only my own inferiority can catch up with his multitude of chio, rich frens ala AC days.

so can i ask if i should even open my mouth about that batch of photos strewn over this desk? 2 of which showed this gal leaning against a car at a carshow.

why being worried is a given:

1) she is chio.
2) she is slim (and has ab muscles like what i used to have).-_____-
3) she is fair with a beautifully made up face and flawless skin.
4) she is one of the showgals at the car show and her bod is better than mine and she's not wearing much to cover it up.
5) there's double-sided tape behind the pic. it's a no brainer to confirm that it had been displayed somewhere till now.
6) the rest are office pics with colleagues and bunches of guys and gals. and there ain't no pics of me.

why i shouldn't worry:

1) it was my name on the piece of marriage cert.
2) he is not stupid. he would have hid it if it was important. or perhaps by reverse psychology, he didn't think he was doing anything wrong.
3) my pic is on his handphone screensaver and wallpaper and he sees me almost everyday.
3) And the lousiest of all reasons and yet which is the basic backbone of the marriage union (ie. based on pure trust that no one is lying and which can never be scientifically proven)-he said he loves me.

so after i've weighed the pros and cons, it's not a wonder to conclude:

---------------I'm worried-------------------

i have been known to be too scientific and years of reading journals of men being naturally polygamous is not helping me win this tussle for level-headedness. i hate that i should be distrustful, but i also think it's my survival instinct kicking in. which woman can't help but feel inadequate when faced with a man's sometimes seemingly callous actions (ie. he should have put them pics away knowing i'm pretty inferior as a person)?

Someone pls offer some opinions/explanations. especially if u are a guy. OTOH, can the gals tell me what u'd do in such a situation? should i ask him about it? it's hardly rifling thru his drawers. heck, they were lying on his desk fit for any eyes walking past his room.

thanks! Will keep updated.

out!

akk. :)

Chronicles of A vol. I-lost-count : Jogging

2006-06-02T17:27:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

It was those once-in-a-blue-moon efforts to slim down that I decided to go jogging one day after work. Just so that the sun has still not set, I snuck out 1 hour ahead of the official teng-chu time and made it home with an hour of daylight left to spare. Oh ya, I had to do a little mission-impossible stunts as I was trying to walk out of the office in full view of everyone without letting them know I’m walking out in full view of everyone.

I just wore the same beige colour as the wall and dragged my beige sweater over my hair and arms and stood behind the office’s only flowerpot of fake plant that was slowly dying. So when the whole office realise the flowerpot had walked to the door, I was sprinting in pixie steps to freedom. At one point in time, just when the lift door opened, I heard footsteps downstairs. Since no one in their right mind is going to climb any form of stairs when the lift is available, I jump out of the lift before it snapped shut, only to let it open 1 floor below to admit all those lazy bums. Such Pigs, make me huff one flight down.

There a few slamming-flat-against-the-wall moments when I hear those expensive click-click of leather shoes (if you hear the flap flap of $2 flip-flops, it’s one of us), but I managed to escape unscathed.

I got home only to find A was around too, so he we decided to jog together, after he convinced me that he will not

1) Laugh hilariously at my jogging style. i.e Run like a gu-niang with limp wrists whose afraid of stepping on grass. Watch me do a hop-scotch at the garden path.

2) Talk to me during the jog, because I will automatically turn to the sound of a voice and hence, crash and burn.

3) Run too far ahead and leave me smelling his sweat and eating his dust.

4) Run too slow and let his vision be eclipsed by the size of my monstrous butt. This is for his safety.

5) Roll his eyes and get pissed if I have to stop and start rescuing snails from their misguided race across the path to the other side.

6) Make any comments about my state at the end of the run, the sweat, the water dripping from all pores and orifices, the shaking limbs and the siao-lang-keng-hairstyle.

I was as equally amused to see he is handling my demands as I was horrified to find that he is quite determined to jog with me. I have never let anyone watch me jog because they have their own eyes to care about. It’d be so irresponsible to make them pop watching me trundle alongside them like a gay elephant.

Just as we were about to set off with 30mins of light left to spare, his handphone rang. I was beside myself with relief until he motioned that it’ll take only 1 minute and I should wait for him.

So I waited and waited till the sun had set, the moon was up and my mum is screaming at us to eat dinner…..

There was a snap when he closed his phone and announced, ‘let’s go!’

I didn’t have the heart to tell his enthusiastic face that I’m slightly night-blind.

So after we made our way there, he gently placed me a bit further away from him (because I kept bumping him) and we started jogging. I had my ears plugged with pumping songs to distract me from the pain in my chest and thighs (and arms and feets and...). When you are fat, you not only run against your own weight, but also against air current and friction of those free swinging weights called saddlebags, love handles and underarm flab. Imagine running in near dark without proper vision and ears blocked by headphones. I felt like I was transported to a place where my pounding feet don’t belong to me and the floor beneath them was riddled with dark shapes and holes.

So it wasn’t long before something happened.

Seeing the floor come up to meet me was the easy bit. At the moment when you just had to close your eyes to silently scream along with Mariah Carey’s Fantasy Baby …’sweet sweet fantasy baby, when I close my eyes, you come and you taakkkeee meeee….OOOhhhhh oooHHHhoooohhAAAaahhhhrrGGGGHHHHHhh…’, and the next moment, you feet gets caught in a strip of grass posing as a darker shade of concrete flooring, the body slowly crashes headlong into a pinwheel of limbs and flab and shoes while the face says ‘hi’ to the tarmac.

That’s not the end. In fact, the fall was like any fall that I usually fall-----trip, legs crossed, tumble, feet in air, somersault and grand finale, face in mud.

It was the noise level. Halfway panting through the whole bloody course, I was already wheezing and heaving with every step. A tried his best but he was dying for at least a speed faster than the strolling pram ambling along the opposite side, so we subsisted into a jogging pace that made him somewhat 3 steps ahead of me.

Which made him unable to see me when I fell.

But he certainly heard me.

‘Whoops…Ow!...Ooh!....
...Ouch!....Oof!......
....Eek!..........Woof!........AAaarrrgghhhhhh!!!!!!’

When A turned around, he found me half plastered across the path, playing dead. After a few more whimpers, I managed to ease myself up slowly with a brave, half-worried smile of reassurance that would have won me Grammys.

While he gently got me up and brush me down, he said,

‘You OK?’

‘Yea, yea…..’ Cue brave smile.

‘Sure?’ he replied.

‘yes, I think so.’ Cue slight frown, braver smile.

‘OK.’ He relaxed.

Then he piped up, ‘Only you were screaming like a banshee just now; I thought you broke something.’

‘eh…afraid you won’t hear mah.’

‘What?’

‘Scared u cannot hear mah!’

‘You fall, I’ll hear one what.’

‘Aiyah….,’ and I started on a long discourse in the middle of the garden path. ‘Some people fall, can make body-hit-floor kind of noise—like piak piak noises.’ And I clapped my hands together to prove the point.

‘Skinny people make bone-hit-floor noises—like kok kok noises. Me, I Marshmallow Man. I fall, no noise.’

By now, I can see his eyes are looking from side to side, but I was on a roll and warming up.

‘Er dear…’

‘So so must signal to you mah. Garden here so many smooching couples. So lak-sey if I not only fall down in front of them, and they see my partner happy-happy disappear round the bend mah.’

‘Er…’

‘So, when the ground fly up to my face, I tell myself, must make sure A hears!’

‘Okok!’ and with that, he quickly reach around my neck and pluck out my earphones.

My screaming Linkin Park track is suddenly replaced by a deafening silence. I was made aware of all the ‘smooching couples’ turning our way, even the ones from 4 benches off.

Even the crickets were silent.

A then held my hand and slowly led me, traumatised, dumb and limping, through the long pathway back home. Even through my night-blindness, I can see some wide white grins floating past my side. Before long, we were walking faster until we rounded the corner, whereby A burst out laughing and laughing until I hoped he burst his spleen.

‘I think ….*gasp* *gasp*… we should…… muahahaha……jog together more often....muahahah....’

Choujidan……if I ever doubt his sincerity in hitching me, it's gone now. While I'm sure there could be so many girls who could be his Muse, I'm his one-and-only Comedy Central.

Out!

AKK

Rabbit Parents

2006-05-30T15:22:00.000+08:00

hi all!

I know that Zhebin has broached this subject before but I am pissed. Really really pissed.

Pls don’t have kids if you
1) Just like the sex ie. You cant wait for the condom to be worn before you got down to business.
2) Are Too young ie. You are still beholden to a Principal who sent you for detention for dying your hair.
3) Are Poor ie. You live off your parents and what you make can only feed you alone or less. Worse, you are unemployed and have sex with your gf/bf to pass the time.
4) Are seeing a married man.
5) Aren’t prepared. And this counts in all those who are pro-life ie, die die also don’t abort the child, must keep it becos of religion, moral, ethics etc.
6) Are violent. Having a kid won’t make a man start thinking pink elephants and tune down his anger, ok? Having a kid also won’t solve your depression in a marriage going downhill OR make him come back. If you can think like that, you’ll need to see a counselor. You are obviously more disturbed than you think.

You know why I’m suddenly talking about this? Becos of the Saturday edition of the Straits Times. The whole day started innocently enough with lil’ sick me watching Jimmy Neutron and Spongebob on TV, then bad choice, I had to pick up the papers and start reading the back issues.

Pages and pages of kids being introduced. Their background, their poverty, the lack of space in the house, the lack of privacy, the lack of education, the lack of parental guidance, the lack of love, the lack of food.

I can go on forever: the lack of a table to eat and do homework, the lack of a quiet environment, the lack of communication, the lack of everything that a child should be provided with.

Perhaps as you are reading this, you may think that I’m being too much. You may think that while some kids do have less, they are being brought up to understand that money is very important. If you are thinking like this, then pls go back and read the papers, I have no time for you.

The thing that really gets me furious, that really got me mad, was the recurring action the kids make in every one of these articles:

They load themselves with lots of tap water to tamp down their hunger pangs. During recess, during dinner, when they sleep.

Pls tell me this isn’t right, that no one should have to do this.

Because I’ve done it. And stupidly I did it because there were chocolate chip cookies in the bloody fridge but I didn’t want to brush my teeth again while preparing for bed. So I drank water. I remembered how the water bloated me and rolled all over the tummy and made me toss and turn in bed. i subsisted like this for a few yrs, when somehow at around 1030, my stomach will start to rumble.

And while the thought of putting anything in my mouth makes me faintly nauseous after all the water, it doesn’t stop the hunger and the feeling of emptiness. I hated that feeling and reading all these articles brought these feelings back to me. To know that these kids had to do it, not by choice but by necessity and having to do it every single meal-time irks me.

I hate feeling upset over social-economics, I hate feeling angry over stupidity. Because why these kids have to be read about in the news is due to their parents’ stupidity.

Example no. 1 and this is not the exact one taken from the newspaper, it is certainly like a summary of most the stories combined:

Mum marries dad and have 3 kids. Mum divorces cos dad beats her. Mum works to bring those kids up. Up till here, I was thinking, fine, wow! Brave woman! Then…mum meets another guy. Guy becomes step-dad. Then mum and step-dad have ANOTHER 2 kids. Now five kids squashed in small flat. Mum stops working to look after kids. Then step-dad loses job. Becomes violent. A family of seven squished in a small flat filled with anger matches and fights.

Example no 2:

Mum married Married man and had 4 kids. Married man went back to his country to his own kids and wife. Mum works as menial labour to bring them up. Met another guy, married him and had a MORE kids. Step-dad became abusive and they divorced. Last count: 6 kids,1 parent and no money.

Example no. 3:

Parents hold proper jobs like sale personnel and admin. Have 3 kids, but all foist onto the grandma. Every month, both parents rather spend on buying new handphones, pay for their extravagant phone bills, get gadgets and MP3 players and CDs and watch movies, rather than pay for the babies, diapers, milk powder, clothes and their education. Get subsidies from the gov’t.

After reading about these articles, I have come to a few conclusions and I shall be nasty about it:

These parents are uneducated. I don’t mean education as in go to school and get your Ns and Os and As paper. I mean education as in condoms, contraceptives and the simple mind exercise of actually bringing yourself to think a bit further than your current situation. To them, life is a tunnel-vision, they cannot see the horizion, they only see 1 pinprick of light. They don’t plan what to do and how to do and where to go, they just go with the flow, just drift along. Spend now and heck the future. Oh dear, I’m pregnant. Again. Let me cum in you, we won’t be so suey. Mum, I love him and I want to marry him. In any case, there’s always divorce.

These parents don’t love their kids, they love having them, but they don’t love them. If you love your kids, u’d want the best for them, at the expense of your own happiness, yes? Then why is this kid having to drink tap water just to fill his tummy and yet watch you balloon every single year to give him a brother or a sister who will only fight for his food and make him drink more water so he can give up his share? Why must there be so many kids???!!! Most couple I know stop at 2 or 3 and they are already strapped for cash and these people earn 2-5 times more already, so why doesn’t the mums from these examples just stop producing? They are like, like, rabbits!!! They can’t stop rearing!

Don’t give some crap about the joy of motherhood, the look of these cute babies when they were young.

Pls see that each and every one of these children are not like pets, they are not bunnies! They have a life span of 60 and above and are entitled to at least have 3 square meals, a proper education, clothes on their back until 18, and this is only the logistics. How about the emotional needs? To at least let them have something to be proud of? To pick up their heads? A form of self-respect? Like ‘I may not have books, but my mum stopped her handphone subscription just so that we have the money to buy newspapers everyday/every other day/every weekend.’ In case you don’t know, a monthly subscription of the Straits Time/Lianhe zaobao/ hand delivered to your home at 7am in the morning is $23/month, less if you just buy off the stands everyday. Or ‘I don’t have $2 for pokemon cards, but I’ve got $2 for recess.’ Rather than, ‘ay, buddy, you have money to spare, my dad used the last dollar to buy toto.’

if you can't provide for them, then DON'T!

Finally, I’m going to say something really bad right now. It’s bad because it’s my honest-to-goodness opinion and because nobody likes to be told the obvious. If nothing new is done and no effort is made, then poverty literally begets poverty. Poor people birth more kids than they can handle. This is absolutely inherent in all the examples in the newspaper and in this entry, baring the one example where poverty is a result of a fatal accident or illness of the parent.

If one is poor and one has just 1 or 2 kids, then things would really be less taxing, won’t it? Compared to 4-6 kids? In fact, another article in the Times has another example like this: Dad and mum have 1 kid. Combine income, after CPF, after house loan, after ultilities, household expenses etc etc, enough to get by. Then couple wants to have another kid. Now got two kids. Dad tells mum to stop work and rest. Income cut by one-third and family member increase by one-third. That's half the pay for per member of the family.

At this point, things would have gotten worse (I truly believe) because this couple wanted to have FIVE kids, but heng heng, they signed up for this Home Ownership Scheme where, in order to enjoy $50,000 off their HDB loan, they must agree to stop after 2 kids. In fact, it is legally binding only if the mother went for ligation to tie herself up.

Can you not see what I saw? The gov’t itself believe that poverty is perpetuated by breeding more than one can care for and that poverty itself, breeds more than it should. The whole deal is in 2 parts. Why does the gov’t give this scheme to low-income groups and not to high-income groups? Why ask us to have more kids and give more babies and still have this scheme to stop low-income groups from having more? Why not tell high-income couples to stop at 2?

Because low income couples tend towards birthing more babies and more babies by low-income people increases the poverty line and create more poverty-stricken adults.

If you still want to argue, then think 3rd world countries versus Japan and Europe.

Everyone loves to hide behind words like ‘stereotyping’ and point accusing fingers, saying that not all examples are like these and that there are others who have successfully emerged as winners through poverty and hardship. Of cos there’s always a hero in every category. Of cos there is always the winner in all these examples.

But I am talking, not about them, but about the normal, the majority, the 99.99% of the rest of those water-imbibing kids. I am talking about the kids who need help, who cannot but feel terrible about themselves, whose tummies rumble even when it’s packed with water! I am thinking for them!

So never never ever ever have kids when you are poor! only have kids when you are truly prepared! Prepared meaning a proper shelter, a nest of savings wholly for the child, insurance and RESPONSIBILITY. Don't let your kids be bunnies!

argghhhhhh!!!!!!!

out!
AKK

24 weird things about me?

2006-05-29T10:32:00.000+08:00

hi all!

tagged by Ollie on this:

Actually I never think much at all thought about myself so much, nor have 24 weird thing that bears writing on paper. I do in fact, have weirder frens though.

1. I hit 55kg when I was just in pri 4 and only 1m tall, bullies used to play dodgeball ~~using~~ with me to squish smaller and lighter kids.

2. I was a self-serving bitch in primary till sec 2 school who didn’t have any frens. I am the original kiasu/kiam-pah kid featured in i-not-stupid. I believed that jack neo used me as his muse.

3. I use to read Shakespeare for leisure. Yes, I am also a smart-ass then. My all-time-favourite is ‘taming of the shrew’.

4. I use to listen to celtic music….like riverdance…and actually watched Yanni’s concert at the acropolis on TV and cried.

5. I have bigger thigh circumference than my own hubby. As much as I want to believe it is true, he does not have chicken claws for legs…

6. I look like a boy so much that until I was in sec 1, I routinely used the men’s toilet whenever the female ones are too crowded. That occurred until even my dad got uncomfortable that I would spring up behind him and make him lose concentration that he ordered me never to appear in a male toilet hence.

7. when I grew my hair longer and looked a bit more on the right side of the gender race, the HK customs refused to let me pass after seeing the old pic in the passport and asked me why have I got my brother’s passport in my hands. I was so embarrassed and held up that I told him to please note the moles on my face and check they have the same orientation as the passport photo. He scolded me and ordered me to change my pic when I get back.

8. I am really dirty-minded. The first thing upon getting internet was to check on how to get pron undetected.

9. I am really dirty-minded. The first thing upon knowing about an online book company that caters to SG was to check if they have erotica.

10. I am really dirty-minded and like all dirty-minded beings, I’m the last to really know what I’m missing. In fact, although I tried to find pron on the internet, I still didn’t know about how sex was done until I saw the educational video in sec 2.

11. When I found out about it, I screamed.

12. Whenever I cut my nails, I’ll always always forget to cut my right index fingernail until I have put the cutter away and washed my hands.

13. I was a ~~da nai ma~~ puo-ba in JC, that in itself is not a weird thing, it’s the not-knowing-wat-happened-since that is.

14. I had successfully lost weight through 2 different diets last time and am proud of it. One was the milk diet, where u substitute all your liquid intake into low-fat/hi-cal milk and drink around 4-6 glasses of it everyday. Eat normally still, mind you.-2 weeks-->2 kg. but then, it maybe because I’m lactose-intolerant. The other is the water diet, you literally drink at least 2 liters of water everyday, no change to diet, 3 weeks--> 2 kg. but since I’ve never liked milk nor water…I stopped already. But it worked!

15. I am admittedly most enamoured of Terry Prachett and his books. I still have yet to get my ultimate wedding present of all his 28 (and counting) titles in sealed, mint condition. I have read all of his books at least twice, if not 5-6 times.

16. I don’t have 24 weird things about myself.

17. Oh yes, this is one of my most boring entries, but that’s not weird either.

Does anyone wanna contribute to more weird things abt me? Esp from frens? Ahem….

Out,
Akk (sick like Zhebin…)

ps Jaschoc, I have the entry for the meme but i don't have the laptop with the doc. so i do this first. paiseh.

‘What good is a god who gives you everything you want?’

YOU HAVE ME THERE.

‘It’s the hope that important. Big part of belief, hope. Give people jam today and they’ll just sit and eat it. Jam tomorrow, now- that’ll keep them going forever.’

-Albert, Death’s manservant, explaining the concept of humanity to his boss in Hogfather, Terry Prachett.

The Green Comer koff.

2006-05-26T15:03:00.001+08:00

Hi all!

You know you are in big trouble when at least 3 of your blog entries are related to your handphone. So far hor, the adventures I’ve had with my Motorola L6 have been in the following sequence:

1) Choosing between a damn chio chio Nokia or a really san-por L6. It was the fight between being superficial (nokia for 300++) and being miserly (L6 for 8). I guess the decision was easy. I rather be an ugly miser with loads of monies than a super-chio spendthrift spending my own money….of cos if there’s other ppl’s money to spend, then I might not have written so much about my handphone caper in here….*long suffering sigh*

2) Letting my san-por L6 do a 6-storey bungee jump without bungee. Enuff said, the heart can only take so much.

3) Having to realize that the fricking minute I took an itsy step into the fricking office, my handphone now become ‘emergency calls only’. Because of chui-kueh (now sadly defunct, not him, the blog), I am not allowed to swear here, although I actually think he already knows all the 10,000 swearwords in various dialects and foreign language and even the extra 300 from ancient texts hidden buried under the fallen nose of the sphinx, so I shall say mother-choujidan-ing jidan-er, or fricking fricker or extra-chou-jidan-ing jidan-er or even chou-fricking-fricker-jidan-ing-jidan-er.

I believe I am in a position here to make all handphone owners cradle their phones and kiss the CustomerServiceOfficers regardless of all the bad blood you’ve spurted over anything remotely connected to your communication device and that is this:

At the very least, if I
- kena get my cellulite pinched by the photocopier which I’m illegally sitting on with to find out my plunking surface area. (I find that doing it without pants will give a smaller surface. Really.)

- kena get my hand stuck in the printer while trying to ~~steal~~ change the print cartridge.

- Kena face burnt and cut by the PC screen when the moniter blew up due to opening too many windows of ~~hot scalding pron~~ EXCEL spreadsheet.

I can still call 999, 911, 995 on my handphone and let the Home Team crowbar my butt off the feeder (with gloves for their protection.); unravel my ribboned hand (multi-coloured) from the rollers; remove the shrapnel from my pimply face (or leaving it as an improvement. Rubber gloves. Thickness 3 mm.)

HOWEVER, and this is where u rejoice that such a thing should happen to me so that it will not happen to you, thanks to statistical probability, is that while all corners lets me call Home Team for pranks during break time, 1 eerie spot in the room not only has no ‘emergency calls only’, it has ‘no service’ half the time and ‘no sim card detected’ the other half.

Now imagine that spot (jidan jidan jidan!) to be my cubicle.

Yea……u can all French kiss your friendly phones and the walls of your office in deep appreciation that they are holding hands of reception.

So now I am currently still holding on to a skinny, post-mortem, post-trauma handphone, sitting alone in the Bermuda Triangle right under the nose of the green umbrella.

And so the entry today is about the coming of the green man (hur hur). To my delight, an urban myth has been answered during his coming (hur hur hur). I mean, I never really seriously asked if all employees of the orange/red/green companies have to have a orange/red/green subscription for their HPs respectively, but its actually true. All green ones subscribes to green, red to red and so on.

So imagine again that I called the green company who sent a green man to come (hur-okok stop) and get some surveying done to find out if there’s really some missing patches of green. He was 15 min late in coming (snigger) and when he found me, told me he had being using that 15 min trying to find out where I was.

With his green phone.

I didn’t even have to explain anything and he already found the cold lonely spot I’d been sitting for months. In any case, I wasn’t mentally capable stringing any words together after realizing I am looking at the cutest guy on the block at that point in time (a very easy feat actually).

‘Ma’am, I’m now going to find 5 more spots of non-activity, so that we are able to contact the higher powers to start acting. You know where I’m coming from?’

I shifted my eyes downwards before realizing it’s only English and hastily skittled them up and

‘Yes yes, *koff* I know. Would you like me to come with you?’

Oh Gods. Behind my placid eyes, the angel in me was on his knees begging that I’m hopefully the only gutter-brain in the office, if not the world, while the rest of me was trying to make me break out in chuckles. While the innuendo flew pass his head (heng ah!) into the horizon, the eventual constipated look must have warned him some.

‘I’ll be fine doing it alone.’

‘*koff* OK then. Enjoy yourself. *koff koff*’

With a wierd look, he left me stuck in a coughing fit.

Suffice to say, it was all too easy to find 5 spots of non-activity in the whole area, my own spot being the worse. The green man himself look slightly sheepish and kept saying he himself also very paiseh over this very valid obvious hole on the canvas of the umbrella corporation. He had finished his surveying in 10mins flat and didn’t need any of his 007 tools from his impressive suitcase.

Nah, he just walked around the whole room and looked at his phone.

3 days later, I got a call from them saying that the ‘building has rejected their enhancement proposal’.

That, if you aren’t aware, is the euphemism ‘we offered to correct the problem but your company refused to pay.’

So…..I am back to square 1.

Jidan jidan jidan….

Thank goodness I’m leaving this horrible place soon.

PS. For the record, the green customer service is really good actually. At least they entertained me all the way and are unfailingly polite while I ranted and raved and cried and simpered. The problem isn’t exactly with them. Guess it takes 2 hands to clap.

It's official! I'm moving...

2006-05-18T12:43:00.000+08:00

...to a new job!

Because of the following reason:

I'm a ghost in there. my mail still gets shuttled to Lost and Found cos they still don't know i exists. I don't get welfare emails sent to me becos of the same reason. for the longest time, I got my salary by approaching Finance for written cheques cos my staff ID isn't ready. I got no immediate employer whom to report to or be taken care of. I'm constantly fighting my own battles to get a measly increment promised to me and HR refuses to talk to me (via phone or email!!!). Worse, the susperiors listens with righteous indignance to my predicament, and instead of helping, say, 'we are behind you! go Fight!' Shall I just say that they are the ones who agreed to increase my pay in the 1st place? my contract is a measly 1 year and when they renewed it, it's only for another year and it's exactly the same as before. Hello, I'm sorry, but I need to point out, wtf I study so fricking much for if it wasn't to get more monies? I'm fine if I get employed on a low deal because I'm fresh entry, but at the very least, pls recog my further studies and my actual conferrment when I've recieved it on my new contract.

And all of them say, 'well, if you aren't happy with the conditions, then don't renew your contract.'

Oh yah, what arrogance.

And so I didn't.

so when 1 of the more clueles superiors knew about it, the following conversation occured:

'excuse me? you are leaving? why didn't you tell me? how do i care whether you gave a 9 week notice, what are we doing to do when u just hightail off like that? Yes, i know you didn't resign, you just decided not to renew, but you never told me your contract only 1 year! you could have said and I would have made it a 2 year contract for you, no big deal!'

incidentally, the one who said that? he was the guy who decided to MIA from the panel of interviewers during my application for said job. during then interview, I asked for a 2 year contract and they say they coudn't. so how about giving you an increment come the new contract? then u'll promise verbally to stay for 2 years. so no increment? no verbal promise of 2 years. sorry. in any case, it's a blessing in disguise the contract only 1 year, so they cannot bug me for anything, cos I did not tender an resignation at all. heng ah....

so now, I'm off to greener pastures in a few month's time.

hur hur hur....one up ur ass, man.

But of cos, not burning my bridges....I shall miss my colleagues here, whom have been actively keeping my precious secret of sourcing for another job from the superiors. I know if I leave, they'll be doing all the extra work, but they still encourage me anyway.

I am extremely blessed.

Thanks you guys for not hating me, but a promise is a promise is a promise. no increment? no stay.

Out,
akk

Treasure of the world

2006-05-15T09:24:00.000+08:00

Warning: Long entry. Proceed at risk.

Once upon a time, there lived a King in a faraway kingdom. He was a fighter, this king. Everything in his life, he fought and won them. He waged battles to increase his land and his coffers until his kingdom was the biggest and the richest among all others.

The King was so much a fighter that he could never be still. When he wasn’t trying to expand his lands, he went on quests to search for all the oldest and beautiful artifacts to add to his mounting collection of war trophies. At the same time, his people loved and respected him for the fairness he dealt in all things and for his strength and thus they made good the land that he won for them.

And then there was thus more money crinkling in the coffers and more treasures, gems and diamonds in the castle keep. He had the rarest old silks by the bale which ancient production techniques were long lost. He owned the largest ruby in the world, taken from the eye of the Snake God in its temple filled with, till now, manic followers. He slept on pillows filled with the feathers of phoenixes died and reborn.

The king, it was touted, was the owner of all the treasures in the world.

But the King was not happy (of cos, I think you figured). He always felt he needed and wanted more. In the middle of acquiring country A, he was planning a hostile take-over in country B. He went out of his way to acquire all the treasures in the World, but he’d only feel that minute of intense joy when the last enemy threw down his weapon or when he held an exquisite work of art.

One minute, and the fleeting excitement will leave him hungry for another conquest.

When the King finally conquered the last state in the whole world and made it his, he left his men happy and contented that their final ordeal is behind them and went alone to rocky cliffs. On the needle shores of his newest conquest, he fell to his knees and wept in deep sorrow.

Your Highness….

Startled he wiped his eyes quickly and looked around.

Your Highness….

He was sure it was the wind echoing his name.

Why do you weep so, whispered the Wind.

The king felt small in the presence of the wind, which can be as gentle as a breeze or as terrible as a hurricane. He felt compelled to answer the omnipotent entity.

‘I am not content. I have everything I could possibly desire but I desire none.’ The King confessed in a low voice.

You seek but you see nothing, said the Wind. You fought your wars without Just cause. Did you think that this world was made for you to possess?

‘It must be so because I have united all lands under me, I possess all there is!’ The King was angry. He felt he had not been taken seriously.

‘The world is mine. Everything you see, it is mine. All the treasures in the world, Mine!’

Do you now, laughed the wind. And suddenly a large gale whipped and crashed the waves against the cliff where the king stood. The King swung his sword this way and that, but of cos, it did not work.

How about, challenged the wind, the treasure of the World?

‘What?’

I bet you don’t have that, laughed the wind again, causing small pebbles to blow into the king’s face.

‘What is this treasure of the World? I have never heard of it.’

You’ll not know it till you find it, your Highness. And once you find it, you’ll be happy.

Hope tinged the King words. ‘You have a cure for my sorrow?’

Never will you want nor desire more, it will complete you.

Thus said, the wind stopped blowing and the sea grew dead calm. It was gone as quietly as it came.

And the king, full of hope that he can be happy, went back and tidied up his states. Once he had appointed all his ministers and assigned all his duties and kissed all his wives, he disappeared to set off on a journey for this mysterious treasure of the World.

It was to be the beginning of a decade search.

The king back-tracked and retraced his steps. Traveling alone, he journeyed to all those lands he had fought and won. Everywhere he went, he found new things to see, smell, hear, touch and taste. Once he saw these conquests as, well, conquests, but gradually he begins to discover that the world was so much more than something to be gained, won, and then tamed.

Some places (like X, Y and Z) were so foreign that it did not care about who was governing them, much less notice a change occurring in the monarchy. There were some places where the news took years to reach and the people who lived there thought nothing of politics and war. In one, only the four seasons and the endless fields of vineyards and small red or white grapes kept the peoples’ interest. In another, only the monsoons and the endless fields of saplings in knee-deep mud and the pureness of husked rice occupied their attention. In yet another, only the half-year of sunshine and the endless cold icebergs and the trawl of silver-scaled fishes filled up their lives.

He was tolerated as a ‘nice young man’ in these parts, although it was generally agreed laughingly that he was a complete dullard on everything.

He had asked them about the Treasure of the World (with a capital T? You sure?), but seriously, and they told him so, if there is such a treasure call that, they’d have changed its name immediately. But while they could offer no help as to the real honest-to-goodness so called Treasure of the World (and here, they’ll roll their eyes), they did, however, offered their opinion what they thought is The treasure and welcome the strange man with the funny accent to it.

‘Have a drink?’ asked the X-ians.
‘Have a bowl?’ asked the Y-ians.
‘Have a bite?’ asked the Z-ians.

And while the King would always say, ‘I need to get going; I need to find my treasure.’ Nevertheless, he would always stay for a little while longer just because.

Many a time does a recurrent thought intrudes on the King: that there were so many different beings in the whole world, and they all behaved and thought differently. yet they bleed like him, fall sick like him and given the choice, walked on 2 legs and sleep lying down. A mirror of himself multiplied a gazillion-fold and with each copy occurs within itself an mismatch, a change, a difference. The King was astounded and learnt new things everyday, the type of grapes grown, the name of different grains, the difference between 2 identical fishes. But most of all, he learned to appreciate. And relax.

So the quest became longer and longer. The Treasure of the World seemed less of an enticement with each year. Like an excuse, he used it to open up their hearts to him (after rolling their eyes at the name). It was the same every time, he’d ask them and they tell him it’s a terrible name (terrible terrible!), before proceeding to announce what they think it should be and introduce it gladly.

And so in a blink of an eyelid, 10 years had gone by. The King had since traveled to all his kingdoms but realized he had barely scratched the surface. During then, there were several manhunts to look for him, but the drawings of him, oh how he guffawed! All wore a crown and a set of chainmail. It is as if the royal painter, who had known every single curve and precious stones on his circlet of gold and velvet and had recognized every dip and dent of the steel chink of his chain, had had a sudden attack of amnesia trying to recall the king’s face. It is as if the essence of himself had been built under his crown and armour and that once they were exchanged for peasant clothes, he had morphed into somebody else, the kingliness in him that everyone recognised had been borne off by his appearance.

One day, the king once again found himself at the edge of a cliff over a rollicking sea, admiring the horizon of sunrise. Sometime during the recent months, he’d heard that the kingdom had finally declared him dead and stopped all searches. His eldest son would be taking over the running of the land and under the well-meaning hands of his ministers, would be groomed as the next king.

Which is all very well, thought the ex-King, but suffered a twinge of homesickness at that thought.

Hence he faced the sea, knowing this is where the wind was most easily spotted.

Cupping his hands, he hollered, ‘I have been to the 4 corners of the world and back but I have not found this Treasure of the World you have spoken of. No one knows what it is and everyone thinks it’s something else.’

‘My desire to possess it drove me, but although I still do not possess it, I now desire it not.’

The wind did not comment but the ex-King felt the breeze picked up.

‘You have said that having it would complete me. But I now feel complete without it.’

A hollowness in his ears greeted him, but the wind remained silent.

‘You said it would cure my sorrow, but now I have no sorrow for it to take away.’

The waves begin to climb higher as the wind grew stronger and whipped around him. The King tried again.

‘I have not found it but I am happy. I am content!’

And a huge wave from the suddenly turbulent sea reared its head and crashed a foot from where the ex-king stood.

‘But I need to know! I need to know what this treasure is!’

Then jump! He heard the Wind spoke. The wave rose under the draw of the Wind and froze itself like a tendril of finger, beckoning the king.

The giant sized finger waved at him and the King, for all his heroics, felt at once terrified by the strength of the wind and by its erratic temper.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaped. The finger wrapped itself around him and melded back into the sea. Again the sea immediately calmed and the wind continued on its way, laughing silently.

A burst of cold salty wetness hit the king’s body like the shock of a cough sweet he once took from a medicinal villager.

Once again, the wind had left him with cryptic words. That thought persisted until he realized that while he had been busily trekking the lands and mountains, he had not searched the seas.

Perhaps the Wind had decided to let go of subtlety and hustled him into the cold wet blue instead.

He floated and drifted through the currents and asked the schools of fish the same question. But of course the fish had no concept of treasure, being that gold and silver did not fill their tummy. Although they did direct him often to the many shipwrecks drifting through eternity with their skeleton crew.

The king despaired. He really wanted to go back onto the land, but when the anatomical water enclosed him, he had grown gills and breathed water. When he tried to climb ashore, he started gasping and his lungs started burning. His face turned as blue as the ocean when he finally gave up and accepted that he had, if temporarily, become a fish with 2 legs.

He regretted his curiosity. The Wind was right. It knew that the king wasn’t truly as content as he felt. If he was, he wouldn’t have asked to know the answer to what he had been searching for. The horrible thing is, is that he felt that he was on the verge of discovering it just when he was summoning the wind but had taken the easy way out by asking.

‘I’m in this way over my head.’ Said he and chuckled at his lame joke.

Just then, an octopus as big as the king lumbered up and settled beside him on the deepsea coral. For once, someone had approached the king instead of the other way round.

‘Mmm…excuse me…’

‘Yes?’ said the king.

‘I have a problem…mmmMmmm.’

‘I have been searching for something for quite a long while…Mmmmm…could you help me?’

‘Please don’t tell me you started out being human.’ The King’s heart grew cold.

‘Oh no no, been a squid all my life….’

He relaxed. ‘Ok, what?’

‘Mmmmm….I have been looking for something called water. Do you know what it is? Water? Only that no one here seems to know.’

‘Why!’ the king swept his hands around. ‘All this is water!’

‘Where?’

‘Here!’

‘What, the corals?’

‘No! You can’t see it because you’re in it!’

Suddenly, the ex-king's head snapped up and his brow cleared. Like a hurtling train, his past experience for his whole life rushed by, like a series of snapshots.

His mum, his dad, his first horse. His men, his wife, his kids. His mornings, his noons, his nights. His love, his laughter, his anger. The sunrise, the sunsets, the stars, the moon. The horizon, the breeze, the rain.

The wine, the rice, the fish.

He started laughing and ignored the octopus (which was ignoring him also, so happy it was whirling like a UFO), great big gulps of laughter that peeled his insides. At once, the water that had magically not affected him began to make him uncomfortable. His gills abruptly disappeared. Half gasping and bubbling with joy, he stroked with strong arms till his head popped out the water and he could breathe again.

'I have it! I have it!' He shouted it to the bright blue sky while bobbing in the waves. And did the ex-King laughed and whooped in laughter at his own stupidity and cried tears of joy that he was given the opportunity to possess such a great gift.

And the wind, invisible but always there, looked on as the ex-King swarm back to shore and returned to his beloved kingdom. It watched as he officially retired and handed his elder son his crown (whom he buried in the garden) in a big grand ceremony. It watched when the king sent men to upgrade the villagers of X, Y and Z, who while happy that somebody had come to fix their dripping roof, was nevertheless unsure who exactly, is the king now?

(Oh aye? Oh, him. He was a nice man, but a complete dullard. We 'ad to teach him everything. Looking for Fool’s gold, we told 'im. He must have discovered finally that our wine/ rice/fish is indeed the Treasure and have rewarded us for our wisdom. Thank you, my man. Incidentally, there’s a patch over there you’ve missed. Yup, over there. You're welcome. Want to try a little of our Treasure?)

And the wind would watch as the old king stand on the cliffs to watch the horizon and the sunrises and the sunsets and hollered its name, thanking it for wisdom everyday. Sometimes he would bring his wives and sometimes the new king. And while the wind never answered anymore, it would breezes to swept the old king in acknowledgement.

And Wind agreed that while the old king was a complete dullard, he was nevertheless finally, a happy one.

Out,

AKK (alive and happy)

Helllloooooo Moto! A Letter of Complaint

2006-04-28T11:50:00.000+08:00

To Whom it may concern,

Hi and how are you? Glad to know you are fine and all that. No, I’m not very fine, thank you. I am writing in aggravation over a particular matter.

It pertains to my handphone, which is a Motorola L6. As a company who is drawing immense profits above margin, I’m sure you’d like to know how one of your many many lucrative products have been faring in the possession of discerning customers like me, who put their connections to the World ‘in the line’, so to speak, on the Monkey-King-try-to-fly-over-Buddha’s-Middle-Finger-in-Her-Palm-But-Failed-miserably-Kinda-Hands for your safe-keeping.

My complaint is this: Why the smelly-egg hell did you make your handphones so skinny? I’d spent a full 60 seconds searching desperately through my 50-liter rucksack in order to stop that incessant ringing (yes, why your phone so loud also?). It was that or face the wrath of all the MRT morning crowds trying to catching their additional winks sitting and standing.

Yes, the embarrassment I had to go through under their hot bloodshot stares when this hum-sap lao han actually poked me, POKED me on my shoulder, just as I was stamping down raising panic, just as my pencil box bursts its seams and all its innards as I whipped it out to dig around for the phantom ringing phone in said bag, just as it rained pencils, erasers and staplers onto a small growing island of restaurant napkins, umbrellas, my windbreaker, used tissue balls and loose paper around myself.

When I faced him, hair all ragged holding onto a torn pencil bag, he dared to reach around and poke me again, POKED me! On my BUTT! The audacity! The fact that he was pointing out the L6 has been nestling in my back pocket all along did not change the fact that I had been publicly harassed, and had not the L6 been layered between my luscious butt and his pudgy fingers, my skin would have been dented. DENTED and MOLESTED by his hairy paws.

…..wait a minute….. *pause*

OK, you win. So the L6 stopped that hum-sap lao han, So? I’m sure if L6 had been as thick as Nokia, I’d be SAFER from his evil pointer. For one thing, it would have been further.

Yes, by twice the distance.

So the original argument still stands that your phone is too fricking thin. I should know because before that MRT fiasco, I’d been smoozing in front of the mirror pretending to be Liz Tyler with all her gold parts, I mean, Cards. I’d popped L6 into my back pocket (and sexily drew it back out and slowly pushed it in again and…..) and promptly forgotten about it.

It was so skinny, I didn’t feel the stretch of my too-tight jeans.

If it was thicker, that growing island of my belongings on the MRT floor will have served a genuine purpose.

Another Thing! And this should wake up your idea even more! Your emaciated design of L6 made me drop it from 6 storeys high! SIX!

The fricking (ran out of eggs) garden was so fricking BIG downstairs but the phone crashed onto the tinny concrete gutter running along one side anyways. I am fairly sure it was because my L6 ‘fluttered’ on the way down. I blame it entirely on its aerodynamic design and light weight. Surely the wind caught it and whisked it right over the dirty drain. Your fault!

It split into THREE, man! Split into THREE!!! It bounced three times, THREE! First bounce and I saw, from way up, the back cover fell from the main body, 2nd bounce and the battery fell off, 3rd bounce and my swaroski phone accessory smashed. Smashed to BITS!

My heart still bleeds at the sodding memory...

I tell you, I’ve never ran down 6 storeys so sodding fast before. Never have I suffered a near-cardiac experience in the same series of leaps as each bounce my phone made before. In fact, never have I waded through a gutter trying to fish out phone pieces before.

And Why, oh WHY did the phone have to suffer that kamikaze drop in the first place? Eh? Eh?

Because! Of! YOU!

Yes, you.

I’ll tell you why.

I walked through a rail-less parapet with my magazine held on its spine.

You made it (L6 lah!) so skinny, I used it as a bookmark.

It was so skinny, it didn’t even dent my CLEO magazine.

So I thought it was in my back pocket this time.

Hence I swung my mag without a care.

There.

The fact that I was able to revive my phone is not a consolation. That its metal-enforced casing hardly got scratched was not the issue, it could be titanium-enforced for all I care. That the scratchproof big screen remained flawlessly smooth was not the point.

The point is:

If it was thicker and uglier, I’ll not have been so affected as to write this complaint letter.

But since it was frankly the most Chio-est piece of metal-talking-implement I've ever own for a miserly $8 and a 2 year bondage, if not in my entire Life, I almost required an MC just to recover from shock.

Incidentally, if you want my slightly-ruched-but-still-mint-conditoned phone as a genuine crash-test-dummy proof of durability and moi as spokeswoman for any advertising purpose, I shall have to warn you I don’t come cheap.

Oh yes, my warranty is 20 days late, you’d better approve it.

Yours in aggravation,
Ang KuKueh

Shuffle shuffle Meme :)

2006-04-26T14:47:00.000+08:00

Hi all!!

Muahahahha….so apt till it’s a bit scary. Here’s my meme from jaywalk. Because you asked, I shall do it!!!

And yah, I did not cheat hor, so hor, kena shock when I saw the answers. Come on lah, I got 150+ songs ranging from instrumental to punk rock, Gypsy Kings to Linkin Park inside the player and still the answers came out like everything predestined like that.… hmmmm……….

Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.

How does the world see me?

Put your head on my shoulder-dunno.

Wahlau, first song and its one I’ve never heard for years since I always chose the other folders to play. I guess this means I’m pretty much a rock that everyone can depend on, solid solid like the deposits of fats I have around me thunder thighs……..

Will I have a happy life?

Xiang xin wu xian!!! -JJ Lin

Muhahahaha….fantastic answer! In case you don’t know, it means ‘Believe no end’ in direct translation. Song by JJ Lin about have boundless hope for Life and the future. Cool!

What do my friends really think of me?

Left my heart in San Francisco-WestLife.

Hmmmm…..I dunno, I never really like the US nor have thoughts of visiting it. Perhaps my friends think I super-blur, like xin bu zhai yen like that, talk to me I never hear one. So heart not here but somwhere else....

Do people secretly lust after me?

Burn-forgot who sang it.

Fwah! This song is one of my favourite, about this guy who cannot keep this girl out of his mind, whenever he sings the word 'burn', he turns on his falsetto voice, machiam like he suddenly got kicked in the balls and become eunuch, or he is having a very huge hard reaction to the thought…ahem.....

Hur hur….u all lust after me ah? Kam siah kam siah! I know u denying lah, no worries, I understand….secret mah secret…..

How can I make myself happy?

For once in my life-Frank Sinatra.

I think this song deserves some history. It’s the song I reserve for my hubs, I gave him this song burnt in CD during the ROM (yes yes, in exchange for the diamond ring, hurhurhur…). So I guess this song just says that I am happy because 'for once in my life, I've got someone who needs me, someone I needed so long. For once, unafraid, i can go where Life leads and somehow i know I'll be strong.'

What should I do with my life?

Walk on the wild side-Dave’s True Story.

Well, what do you know?! Goodness, has my life been previously so staid and boring? Hmmm…ok, I just answered my own question…

Will I ever have children?

poison-madison garden.

Wahlau……I poison or they poison?

What is some good advice for me?

Kiss from a fool-george Michael.

Eh? Maybe I shall sneak into a 6-yr old's Ronald McDonald party and force RM to peck me on the cheek to ling wu some sort of Cosmic Truth on the Meaning of Life....

How will I be remembered?
I’m so repentant-Dave’s true Story.

Choujidan, machiam like cursing me like that. Must be in the future I’ll commit some super big crime and end up having to suffer guilt the rest of my life…

Oh wait, it could be just about that chocolate muffin I scoffed just now.

What is my signature dancing song?

Let there be love-Nat king Cole.

Weeee!!! I’d gladly dance to this song. In case you don’t know, Nat is singing ‘let there be birds singing in the trees, someone to bless me whenever I sneeze, let there be Coo-Coos, a lark and a dove, but first of all, pls, let there be love.’ Essentially the take that Love makes you see the things you often miss! ya ya, another one of those boundless heaps of hope for Love and happiness songs....yea...*sniff*

What do I think my current theme song is?

love in the first degree-bananaramamama

(ya ya, I know how to spell. I just dunno when to stop.).

Goodness, the whole entry is starting to turn mushy.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
shake it off-Mariah carey.

Confirm talking about those fat deposits....and the muffins.....

What song will play at my funeral?

if you ever fall in love again- dunno.

Good choice. If I ever left this big beautiful earth, pls let those who love me not grieve. Find someone else and make sure he/she loves you as much as I did.

What type of men/women do I like?

Real Thing-Lisa stansfield.

Because I am also Real.

What is my day going to be like?

All Woman-lisa stansfield.

Wah lau! Speechless! I’m meeting my close-knit clique of gal friends tonite!

hahaha...it's been fun while it lasts!

here's the meme to:

zhebin
nadnut (cos i know u have lotsa songs)
Tempest
Barney
li-er
jellygirl
and Wally.

And to all who want to do it also. It can be quite eye-opening!!!

Out!

In the midst of writing Story of D, which is turning out harder than I ever thought it could be,

AKK

Buzzing like a Bee!!!!

2006-04-13T10:25:00.000+08:00

Hi all!

Wah lau! Kachuaz comments really killed me siah, sorry sorry, I have been MIA for so fricking long that Ollie has had a dream about me blogging an entry, sheesh. Just to say that I’m in the midst of a transition, hence there are a million and one things I had to do and by the time I manage to hit Sunday in 1 piece, I’m too tired to on the fricking lappy (oh no! I wasn’t scolding you, Lappy, although you’ve been giving me a bit of a trouble as well…ahem..) and type as much as I’ve typed all those fricking days in the office.

Just a very short note to tell you all that

1) I am not involved in the 4 car pile-up along the CTE,

2) neither was I part of the 10-strong so-called ‘cynical’ youth generation sent to interrogate our darling MM LKY (who pretty much grilled them on the barbie in his fuss-free and chockfull-of-needles fashion that I love so much). Sorry, ppl, I’m pretty much a PAP supporter and I like LKY, I cannot see why there should be cynism among the young. Pls go look at our ne1hgbours and their corrupted gov’t, then come back and tell me my PAP hasn’t done a fricking good job putting us on the world map, ok?

3)I was also not involved with the collapse of the KL-causeway plans and

4) although I watched Miss Singapore Universe, managed to survive it, albeit with a heaving and cramped up tummy. (Da nai ma!!! Da Nai Ma!!!! Wahahhaha...!!!) If I may quote one of the contestants on whether local men or foreign men are more attractive----- 'I prefer local men. I've had many ex-boyfriends and they were all local. Some are plump and some didn't have the height and some didn't have very well-defined bodies.....but I LOVE THEM ALLL!!!'

In short, I am fine and healthy and kicking. I have not been utterly idle though (like chwee kueh), because as of now, Story of D, vol 2 is in the making.

JayWalk can vouch big time that I am so busy, I can’t even be found on MSN, geez!!!! I’m not idling and I’m not dead!

I also have not visited my very own blog until today, haiz, almost got heart attack when the page refuses to load…..Lappy, you’ve GOT to buck up!!!

Sorry to all whom I’ve not been catching up, haiz….

All for now.

Out,
AKK

-----buzz-----buzz----buzz--------

It can only happen to me...

2006-03-17T17:10:00.000+08:00

Hi all!!!

as you can tell from my previous entry, I have been absolutely happy about getting myself the slim-trim motoL6. I have been doing lots of nonsense with it involving lotsa finger movements (I think alot of you aren't thinking straight already....me neither...ahem)

in any case, i was very fricking happy, kept thinking 'great deal! wow! $8 only!!!'.

Fantastic hor?! HOR?!

Yah, I thought so also!

Untill I went to my office.....

the moment I step in, a beep sounde on my phone....and I thought, 'yea! someone misses me!'

And looked at my phone.

It Flashed.....'EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY'....

Freaked out, I started running around the whole room, pointing my HP all over at walls and at astonished colleagues....

My Greatest Fear is realised........

my hp kena zero reception in the office....

KNNBCCB......

Beyond CJD already,

AKK

Trivial Triflings of An Aimless AKK

The Story of a little Girl and her Shadow

Listening with a smile....

Quitting....long overdue

Atypical Message of Love

my new place...

Life of Us Ikan Bilis. Vol 1

World is such a small place...

More Tears over Scrambled Eggs...

Letter to a Friend Vol. 2

I can't talk right now...

The Phone Call

It's all about the letter 'B', voice blog vol. 8

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 12

Tired....

Waxing Lyrical Over Small things Vol 1

Tears over Scrambled Eggs....

Letter to a Friend

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 11.

Working...

Let's take a break from PPQ.....

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 10

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 9

The sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 8

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 7

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 6

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 5.

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 4.

The Sad Ping Pong Queen vol 3.

The Sad Ping Pong Queen vol 2.

Things that make you go ‘er….’

Sleeping habits, Vol 1

Happy New Year and an Update!!!

Layer by layer you'll be stripped clean....

Happy New Year!!!

Cheeky lil' Bro....

Revealing myself finally....

The Sad Ping Pong Queen

Getup, Get out and Move on!

being depressed

Will you help?

Wah....A Singaporean 'Elite' speaks out!

How AKK's brain is functioning....

A trip to HSA

Run For Funds!!!

The Chronicles of C, Vol. II -- Liking older men…

The loading of the links!!!

Kam siah!

Tomorrow is a Big day for me...

working...

Busy Busy Busy.........

The HK Trip and the GSS

This is not a GAME!!!

Chronicles of A vol 8.: I asked.

Chronicles of A vol. 7: hmmm.....

Chronicles of A vol. I-lost-count : Jogging

Rabbit Parents

24 weird things about me?

The Green Comer *koff*.

It's official! I'm moving...

Treasure of the world

Helllloooooo Moto! A Letter of Complaint

Shuffle shuffle Meme :)

Buzzing like a Bee!!!!

It can only happen to me...

The Green Comer koff.