The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 6

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.

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.

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.

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.

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….’

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

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!!!

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....

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!!!

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....

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....

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

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

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!

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

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?

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!

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....

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

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