Standards of Success
My text message to *Gallant in China:
Guess what? I'm getting my second class honours after all. (I was paranoid that I would fall into third class honours)
His reply:
I never doubted that, dear.
(a little later)
I missed out on a perfect score. I got five As and one A-.
Yes, *Gallant is (occasionally) a dean's lister. That and how he gets through exams practically effortlessly and at last minute cramming at that. And I know this wasn't a particularly easy semester... he had to put in a lot of time in his lab, complete six modules, resolve his club politics, organise the World Bank student conference, play basketball (a little too routinely) and be boyfriend to a very demanding *young lady.
Sour sentiments aside, let me disclaimer that I am very proud (and still very amazed). I'm more disappointed in myself.
Couples tend to match each other and achieve what the *old folks like to call *compatibility*. Similar wavelengths, a matching *appearance (admit it... you tend to point out couples that have one obviously much better looking than the other), capabilities, etc.
I know modern times do not equate this measure and *Gallant himself has told me how different our academic faculties are, but how I wish we could be equals this way (it would make job application much easier too!).
On a side note, my *perfect dear is now interning in China for a law firm. His life science background did not stop the associates from appreciating his English language capabilities and quickly gave him contracts to translate and bring him along for numerous client meetings with the ang-mohs (btw, Chinese law is a highly self insulated practice... the lawyers do not need to immerse themselves (unlike other countries) in English law. This is why most lawyers in China do not even speak English).
And my biggest achievement this week was that I did a full backbend yesterday at yoga class. If parents, fellow classmates and finances wasn't pressure enough, my own love has become a new factor for the oh-so-competitive me.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
drink for work (sing/work for supper)
Jobs of the ethical pay less, unfortunately
I was scurrying for the British American Tobacco networking night at Indochine, Orchard when a sweet young boy (of ten and four years?) stopped me in my path.
Sister, Sister... can I have a moment of your time please?
Urm... what is it about?
(little boy goes into his sales pitch for his charity cause)
Oh gosh, I'm sorry... I don't have $30 to give to you. I'm looking for a job myself... and in fact, going for a job interview (of sorts) right now.
The young fellow had a sudden look of pity and suddenly lit up with a bright idea:
You need a job? I've got one for you. You can try my job... it pays not bad.
I gently declined and made my way past the many shops that hold lovely things I currently am too broke to own right now.
Well, the night was quite a long one as I tried my best to put on my *sweetest smile and give my most attentive gazes and say things that I should be, at the same time trying hard to appear intelligent, capable and charming.
Golly, a job with BAT pays very well. Hearsay tells me around $2.8 - 3k for an arts entry level position. But it isn't just the money, these people are clearly talented in what they do and the job has so many challenging aspects. I hope to join their corporate regulations department, where they deal with governments around the region in working out the sales (and taxes) to enable the sale of tobacco in their state. Of course, in the negotiations, there will inevitably be a balance made in terms of social programmes (and contributions) to counter the effects of youth smoking, health issues, etc.
These people really have it down to a pat. Basically, they offer the liberty or choice to smoke but emphasize social responsibility.
But more important, they will train their management trainees very well. Lots of courses and overseas experience. Hehe... lots of partying too! =)
I was scurrying for the British American Tobacco networking night at Indochine, Orchard when a sweet young boy (of ten and four years?) stopped me in my path.
Sister, Sister... can I have a moment of your time please?
Urm... what is it about?
(little boy goes into his sales pitch for his charity cause)
Oh gosh, I'm sorry... I don't have $30 to give to you. I'm looking for a job myself... and in fact, going for a job interview (of sorts) right now.
The young fellow had a sudden look of pity and suddenly lit up with a bright idea:
You need a job? I've got one for you. You can try my job... it pays not bad.
I gently declined and made my way past the many shops that hold lovely things I currently am too broke to own right now.
Well, the night was quite a long one as I tried my best to put on my *sweetest smile and give my most attentive gazes and say things that I should be, at the same time trying hard to appear intelligent, capable and charming.
Golly, a job with BAT pays very well. Hearsay tells me around $2.8 - 3k for an arts entry level position. But it isn't just the money, these people are clearly talented in what they do and the job has so many challenging aspects. I hope to join their corporate regulations department, where they deal with governments around the region in working out the sales (and taxes) to enable the sale of tobacco in their state. Of course, in the negotiations, there will inevitably be a balance made in terms of social programmes (and contributions) to counter the effects of youth smoking, health issues, etc.
These people really have it down to a pat. Basically, they offer the liberty or choice to smoke but emphasize social responsibility.
But more important, they will train their management trainees very well. Lots of courses and overseas experience. Hehe... lots of partying too! =)
Monday, May 22, 2006
Mid Year Resolutions
Mid Year Resolutions
I'm never one to believe that birthdays, festivals and anniversaries are only to be celebrated at its *rightful time (thank you, Alice, for un-birthdays). Therefore, it is not only new year that we can make resolutions, especially if it is our goal for self improvement:
Happy Thoughts
*Bugger all that is unpleasant and all that creates pressure. I am "beautiful, intelligent, creative and resourceful". I have to start believing that I can and work hard to achieve the goals I must fulfill. I am referring to my job search and my parents who currently display a little too much pressure and a little too little of confidence.
Heck, its only two weeks since my last exam and one week since I've moved in here (and gotten broadband). For the sake of my sanity, someone big has better hire me pronto! Since that is not realistically going to happen, I have to pull myself together and work hard (and patiently) at getting hired.
Gym (and Jeans) time
If I am going to pay to go to a gym, I better actually go there. Also, *Gallant has been pushing me into Levi stores, wanting to see me in jeans (and a white tee shirt... can some guy tell me what this is all about?). I hate jeans... cause I don't have the *perfect thighs and butt. Let's see what Planet Fitness can do about that.
Minimal Boyfriend Blog
Speaking of the boyfriend, yes, I will admit... enough of the sappy, hair-stand-on-ends posts already about how-much-I-love-him entries. You don't need to know all that! =) Although, bad habits are hard to kick so I'll never say never but I'll try my best.
Better English
I know I have some grammar problems (spelling ones too). I must get myself a couple of grammar books and practice to save the dignity of the Queen's English... while I still have the time.
Read More Books
It is very, very sad how little I have read this year. I can count non-academic books on the fingers of my hands (okay, one hand).
I think that's enough for now. =)
I'm never one to believe that birthdays, festivals and anniversaries are only to be celebrated at its *rightful time (thank you, Alice, for un-birthdays). Therefore, it is not only new year that we can make resolutions, especially if it is our goal for self improvement:
Happy Thoughts
*Bugger all that is unpleasant and all that creates pressure. I am "beautiful, intelligent, creative and resourceful". I have to start believing that I can and work hard to achieve the goals I must fulfill. I am referring to my job search and my parents who currently display a little too much pressure and a little too little of confidence.
Heck, its only two weeks since my last exam and one week since I've moved in here (and gotten broadband). For the sake of my sanity, someone big has better hire me pronto! Since that is not realistically going to happen, I have to pull myself together and work hard (and patiently) at getting hired.
Gym (and Jeans) time
If I am going to pay to go to a gym, I better actually go there. Also, *Gallant has been pushing me into Levi stores, wanting to see me in jeans (and a white tee shirt... can some guy tell me what this is all about?). I hate jeans... cause I don't have the *perfect thighs and butt. Let's see what Planet Fitness can do about that.
Minimal Boyfriend Blog
Speaking of the boyfriend, yes, I will admit... enough of the sappy, hair-stand-on-ends posts already about how-much-I-love-him entries. You don't need to know all that! =) Although, bad habits are hard to kick so I'll never say never but I'll try my best.
Better English
I know I have some grammar problems (spelling ones too). I must get myself a couple of grammar books and practice to save the dignity of the Queen's English... while I still have the time.
Read More Books
It is very, very sad how little I have read this year. I can count non-academic books on the fingers of my hands (okay, one hand).
I think that's enough for now. =)
Join a Gym today!
Join a Gym Today and Master the Art of Thinking Thin!
Goodness knows I succumb to a bourgeoisie, capitalist and frivolous lifestyle. I joined a gym this weekend despite not yet earning a single cent to my name. FYI, I'm still squandering money off parents who pays my rent, food and luxuries. Yes, it feels guilty (and yes, the *damsel is dramatic).
Being a financially careful Jobless Graduate calculating dollars and cents, each trip plus travel definitely wasn't worth the membership at Planet Fitness (if I go around 2 - 3 times weekly, it adds up to about $10-12 SGD per trip). However, the insensible craving for smaller thighs, sculpted arms and a toned stomach soon outweighed all other sensible calculations.
Good golly the gym is fun! Signing up, my membership consultant, Maeve (check out the special name on my Chinese speaking, heavy accented consultant) showed me so many possibilities of a fitter me, by means of tones of activities I'll never get bored off (exercise classes, yoga marathons, wall climbing, swimming and fitness trainers), spa facilities and a waiver of my registration fee and a month free if I join for 12 months!
But her sales rhetoric aside, getting healthy was something I needed and it would take some time off me while I am sitting around, s-l-o-w-l-y looking for work.
I attended my first gym session on a Sunday morning. Based on their 7-days-a-week exercise class schedule, I planned to attend Yoga (with-Grand-Yoga-Master-from-India-Venky) from 12-1pm, and then Street Jazz from 1-2pm, a little machine work (hehe... only ended up doing 10 minutes on the treadmill) and a long sit down in the steam room.
My yoga class was exciting! Most definitely, it was the most intense class I've ever had. Our grand-master-of-yoga-Venky definitely lived up to his name (and like my Yoga CD instructor *lingy and I fawn over, he was a cutie too with his very nice yoga trained bod).
This guy could lift himself up with his arms while he is in a lotus (cross legged) pose. And he could do turns and lifts and twists like soft licorice. The rest of the class was pretty good too. Strong arms and immense flexibility. I was in awe with the rest of the class. I must say it is a huge change from the NUS yoga and pilates classes. NUS students, I now firmly believe, are mostly a bunch of inflexible people as they gawk at me as if I'm non-human when I can touch my toes. Wait till they see the yoga class at Planet! =)
At the Street Jazz class, the instructor again was another cutie (hehe... yes, girls... join a gym today). For those of you who have watched Centre Stage, the part where Jody Sawyer joins a jazz ballet class? Well, it was pretty much like that... especially the warm up session. Great fun save two very important points: first, if I could dance and get my tangled feet and hands coordinated, and secondly, if the people around me were not men who looked and moved a little more feminine than they should or have women all over the middle age mark. Call me Prude, but this dance had us all touching privates and shaking *booty... Definitely no no for the people around me. But I must Definitely add... the women around me had such fit bodies that look nice in their tight (and skimpy) leotards sans wrinkles and the men prolly had nicer legs and skin than mine. They can dance well too... I was most obviously the worst in the class of ten.
If there is anything I hope to achieve at gym (and this I will tell my personal instructor when I meet him tomorrow) is to gain more confidence with my body (and yes, the thighs, arms and stomach appearance too, of course!). Women, of all body shape and sizes wore their tight leotards proudly, and most walk around naked in the locker room. The steam room was a picture of half draped *goddesses (in their own right). I don't mean I want to go around the locker room half *nekkid, but if Planet Fitness did anything, it was a membership of confidence to these women.
Perhaps it is true. Sexiness, confidence and all other attitudes alluring are first a construct of the mind. Maybe, being thin or slim can be constructed the same way. If you can carry of a slinky gown with the extra inch on the arm, a love handle in the middle and tree trunks for legs and still command the looks of heated desires like Sophie Dahl (and I assure you that many of the women I've seen at the gym can), lady, I applaud you and if all my efforts fail to be thinner at the gym, I aspire to be just like you.
Goodness knows I succumb to a bourgeoisie, capitalist and frivolous lifestyle. I joined a gym this weekend despite not yet earning a single cent to my name. FYI, I'm still squandering money off parents who pays my rent, food and luxuries. Yes, it feels guilty (and yes, the *damsel is dramatic).
Being a financially careful Jobless Graduate calculating dollars and cents, each trip plus travel definitely wasn't worth the membership at Planet Fitness (if I go around 2 - 3 times weekly, it adds up to about $10-12 SGD per trip). However, the insensible craving for smaller thighs, sculpted arms and a toned stomach soon outweighed all other sensible calculations.
Good golly the gym is fun! Signing up, my membership consultant, Maeve (check out the special name on my Chinese speaking, heavy accented consultant) showed me so many possibilities of a fitter me, by means of tones of activities I'll never get bored off (exercise classes, yoga marathons, wall climbing, swimming and fitness trainers), spa facilities and a waiver of my registration fee and a month free if I join for 12 months!
But her sales rhetoric aside, getting healthy was something I needed and it would take some time off me while I am sitting around, s-l-o-w-l-y looking for work.
I attended my first gym session on a Sunday morning. Based on their 7-days-a-week exercise class schedule, I planned to attend Yoga (with-Grand-Yoga-Master-from-India-Venky) from 12-1pm, and then Street Jazz from 1-2pm, a little machine work (hehe... only ended up doing 10 minutes on the treadmill) and a long sit down in the steam room.
My yoga class was exciting! Most definitely, it was the most intense class I've ever had. Our grand-master-of-yoga-Venky definitely lived up to his name (and like my Yoga CD instructor *lingy and I fawn over, he was a cutie too with his very nice yoga trained bod).
This guy could lift himself up with his arms while he is in a lotus (cross legged) pose. And he could do turns and lifts and twists like soft licorice. The rest of the class was pretty good too. Strong arms and immense flexibility. I was in awe with the rest of the class. I must say it is a huge change from the NUS yoga and pilates classes. NUS students, I now firmly believe, are mostly a bunch of inflexible people as they gawk at me as if I'm non-human when I can touch my toes. Wait till they see the yoga class at Planet! =)
At the Street Jazz class, the instructor again was another cutie (hehe... yes, girls... join a gym today). For those of you who have watched Centre Stage, the part where Jody Sawyer joins a jazz ballet class? Well, it was pretty much like that... especially the warm up session. Great fun save two very important points: first, if I could dance and get my tangled feet and hands coordinated, and secondly, if the people around me were not men who looked and moved a little more feminine than they should or have women all over the middle age mark. Call me Prude, but this dance had us all touching privates and shaking *booty... Definitely no no for the people around me. But I must Definitely add... the women around me had such fit bodies that look nice in their tight (and skimpy) leotards sans wrinkles and the men prolly had nicer legs and skin than mine. They can dance well too... I was most obviously the worst in the class of ten.
If there is anything I hope to achieve at gym (and this I will tell my personal instructor when I meet him tomorrow) is to gain more confidence with my body (and yes, the thighs, arms and stomach appearance too, of course!). Women, of all body shape and sizes wore their tight leotards proudly, and most walk around naked in the locker room. The steam room was a picture of half draped *goddesses (in their own right). I don't mean I want to go around the locker room half *nekkid, but if Planet Fitness did anything, it was a membership of confidence to these women.
Perhaps it is true. Sexiness, confidence and all other attitudes alluring are first a construct of the mind. Maybe, being thin or slim can be constructed the same way. If you can carry of a slinky gown with the extra inch on the arm, a love handle in the middle and tree trunks for legs and still command the looks of heated desires like Sophie Dahl (and I assure you that many of the women I've seen at the gym can), lady, I applaud you and if all my efforts fail to be thinner at the gym, I aspire to be just like you.
.::.
On another unrelated note, the *Damsel got her phone stolen on Saturday. Innocently standing inside the train, with her phone in her backpack pocket on a crowded day from City Hall to Ang Mo Kio. When I found a seat halfway through the trip, I noticed the pocket opened and the phone was missing. And I've just answered a call right before entering the train so I know I couldn't have left it elsewhere.
So a word of caution at busy places, gentle readers: beware. There are people out there who are not so nice as to trouble you with the task of gathering your phone numbers again. The biggest loss of all would be a history of text messages lost - including the one where *Gallant, pre-relationship, asked me out for our first date and offered to cook me porridge when I was sick.
So a word of caution at busy places, gentle readers: beware. There are people out there who are not so nice as to trouble you with the task of gathering your phone numbers again. The biggest loss of all would be a history of text messages lost - including the one where *Gallant, pre-relationship, asked me out for our first date and offered to cook me porridge when I was sick.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Little Poseidon
Little Poseidon
My dear fish is dying. He has been sick for a while now and for quite a number of occasions even did the belly up floating position. It all started about two weeks ago when his belly was bruised by his violent ways of swimming. My *Po loves to head butt the gravel in his bowl and make his water go *splash!
He is now weak, his inner gills look sore and his tail is flaying. It is a condition of the previous injury and growing old that I can not do anything to cure.
If you know *Po, you'd acknowledge that he is 'one darn special fish'. Magnificently beautiful, charming and a little naughty. I know I say this not just because he his my pet, but how many goldfishes actually like to swim in the area of the bowl that is nearest to you, suckle your finger when you stick it in like a big fat worm, eat bugs that fall into your bowl (prolly knowing I was shrieking in disgust) and the fruit I lovingly cut up, do head butts and swim so excitedly when it knows it is feeding time.
Another thing *Gallant and I notice also, is that when he is in *Gallant's room, he likes having his dorsal fin up. *Po must be trying to appear more manly to his male owner.
*Po was *Gallant's gift on our third month anniversary. I would like to think that I have showered this little life with so much love and care that I have given him the best life he could have.
And a part of me believes that *Po is hanging on to his life for me. I know it sounds dramatic... but with the course of his injury and sickness, he should have been gone long ago. He now sits in a bowl near my table. He is trying hard to swim and he faces me (even if I turn to another side he swims to the other end).
*Po, you're the toughest *cookie I know. I love *Poseidon very much and truth be told, I need his company so much now that things are new and *Gallant is away. But if he has to go, and goodness knows how much pain he is probably in, I will understand.
Update, 11.15am: Little Po died peacefully.
My dear fish is dying. He has been sick for a while now and for quite a number of occasions even did the belly up floating position. It all started about two weeks ago when his belly was bruised by his violent ways of swimming. My *Po loves to head butt the gravel in his bowl and make his water go *splash!
He is now weak, his inner gills look sore and his tail is flaying. It is a condition of the previous injury and growing old that I can not do anything to cure.
If you know *Po, you'd acknowledge that he is 'one darn special fish'. Magnificently beautiful, charming and a little naughty. I know I say this not just because he his my pet, but how many goldfishes actually like to swim in the area of the bowl that is nearest to you, suckle your finger when you stick it in like a big fat worm, eat bugs that fall into your bowl (prolly knowing I was shrieking in disgust) and the fruit I lovingly cut up, do head butts and swim so excitedly when it knows it is feeding time.
Another thing *Gallant and I notice also, is that when he is in *Gallant's room, he likes having his dorsal fin up. *Po must be trying to appear more manly to his male owner.
*Po was *Gallant's gift on our third month anniversary. I would like to think that I have showered this little life with so much love and care that I have given him the best life he could have.
And a part of me believes that *Po is hanging on to his life for me. I know it sounds dramatic... but with the course of his injury and sickness, he should have been gone long ago. He now sits in a bowl near my table. He is trying hard to swim and he faces me (even if I turn to another side he swims to the other end).
*Po, you're the toughest *cookie I know. I love *Poseidon very much and truth be told, I need his company so much now that things are new and *Gallant is away. But if he has to go, and goodness knows how much pain he is probably in, I will understand.
Update, 11.15am: Little Po died peacefully.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
a while
It has been a while
... since my last post. I've finished exams, moved house and now just starting to look for my very first job. It is all very exciting, although a little scary but a step taken necessarily with courage and positive attitude.
Job Search
I really couldn't tell how I did in my last exam but it really feels insignificant now. The *next big thing* seems to be the job search. I've left previous ambitions of wanting to be a writer or a journalist behind for reasons that I feel that I could do something else much better... but then, what?
And next conclusion that follows is that my future career lies with the possible fate of what is available on the classifieds. =) At times like these, I need some hope that luck is on my side. Also, that jobs are not always dead ends and a girl who has ambition and drive can get herself almost anything she wants.
So anyway, I'm totally torn between types of jobs: Part of me wants to try out jobs of obvious fulfillment aka idealist positions (for lack of a better term) such as with the National Heritage Board (Museums), Corporate Communications for the National Healthcare Group or fundraise for some of the local NGOs.
The other part desires a more indulgent, commercial career such as a management position with True Yoga or the Duty Free Shop, and handle public relations for some events company. These jobs are demanding in their own right, but darnit I feel the urge to change-the-world and I don't think that might happen even if everyone learnt yoga and can use Burberry at duty free prices (Nonetheless, I do love yoga and Burberry with every bit of my heart).
And then there is the realist side that opts for financially rewarding and career building options such as the British American Tobacco Management Trainee programme. As promised, no one else can train a fresh graduate better than BAT.
Well, my conclusion is that I best not count chickens before they are hatched. I'll send in my application and inform you later when I have the luxury to pick and choose.
House
I've moved into my new home in Ang Moh Kio. I'm staying here with *Em and we're fitting in quite nicely, learning all little new secrets of our living space. Things like a hidden curtain railing, goodies of home appliances and kitchen utensils left by our previous owner, the marketplace and all her fresh gems, and a maze of the transport system (*Em has gotten lost only once, I think, I have gotten lost four times).
I think I'm absolutely lucky to have found this cozy home. I love waking up in the morning to the no-longer-in-NUS-student-hostel-accomodations, although cleaning can be quite a chore as we no longer have the cleaners like at the hostel for common areas.
I must admit though that I'm not used to sharing a place with someone and will sometimes shut myself up in the room for want of closure (plus, I'm a little sad with *Gallant having just left for one and a half months back to China). It takes a little getting use to but I'm glad its with someone like *Em.
I went for a walk this evening at a nearby park and I must say Ang Mo Kio gardens is MASSIVE. My first sight was a pond of water lillies and neat rows of trees along garden pathways. There were sections as well, such as Mayflower Park and a large ground with poles for hanging up birdcages on Sundays so that people can admire your singing pet. Playgrounds with children laughing happily and their grandparents spending retirement in the best way possible (or at least, I think so). It was my moment of bliss, listening to light classical music on my headset and forgetting, for at least a moment, the stress of looking for a job.
Boyfriend
At this point, I am ready to conclude that *Gallant is *perfect save the few following reasons:
In all aspects, I am sincerely proud and thankful for the wonderful qualities *Gallant has. In all confidence I will say that my *man will reach great successes one day. He's (almost) everything I want in a man. The relationship has definitely evolved sensibly and romantically over time as we are now more in tune with one another than ever before. My companion is loving, patient, kind and witty. The most cruel thing now is the fact that we are both foreigners with undetermined futures that will most likely tear us in different directions. I am more fearful of this now than ever.
He called me from the airport right before he boarded his flight and told me to look inside my cupboard. There, he left me a prepaid telephone card to call him in China as well as some money. He also bought me quite an expensive webcam in addition to his usual date expenditures. It is all very sweet, and gentlemanly of course. And really, I am tempted to accept all these as he is obviously the (immensely) more richer of us both. But I think it is wrong... I'll be returning all these when he returns.
I'd like to think that even if he was church-mouse poor, I'd love him just the same.
... since my last post. I've finished exams, moved house and now just starting to look for my very first job. It is all very exciting, although a little scary but a step taken necessarily with courage and positive attitude.
Job Search
I really couldn't tell how I did in my last exam but it really feels insignificant now. The *next big thing* seems to be the job search. I've left previous ambitions of wanting to be a writer or a journalist behind for reasons that I feel that I could do something else much better... but then, what?
And next conclusion that follows is that my future career lies with the possible fate of what is available on the classifieds. =) At times like these, I need some hope that luck is on my side. Also, that jobs are not always dead ends and a girl who has ambition and drive can get herself almost anything she wants.
So anyway, I'm totally torn between types of jobs: Part of me wants to try out jobs of obvious fulfillment aka idealist positions (for lack of a better term) such as with the National Heritage Board (Museums), Corporate Communications for the National Healthcare Group or fundraise for some of the local NGOs.
The other part desires a more indulgent, commercial career such as a management position with True Yoga or the Duty Free Shop, and handle public relations for some events company. These jobs are demanding in their own right, but darnit I feel the urge to change-the-world and I don't think that might happen even if everyone learnt yoga and can use Burberry at duty free prices (Nonetheless, I do love yoga and Burberry with every bit of my heart).
And then there is the realist side that opts for financially rewarding and career building options such as the British American Tobacco Management Trainee programme. As promised, no one else can train a fresh graduate better than BAT.
Well, my conclusion is that I best not count chickens before they are hatched. I'll send in my application and inform you later when I have the luxury to pick and choose.
House
I've moved into my new home in Ang Moh Kio. I'm staying here with *Em and we're fitting in quite nicely, learning all little new secrets of our living space. Things like a hidden curtain railing, goodies of home appliances and kitchen utensils left by our previous owner, the marketplace and all her fresh gems, and a maze of the transport system (*Em has gotten lost only once, I think, I have gotten lost four times).
I think I'm absolutely lucky to have found this cozy home. I love waking up in the morning to the no-longer-in-NUS-student-hostel-accomodations, although cleaning can be quite a chore as we no longer have the cleaners like at the hostel for common areas.
I must admit though that I'm not used to sharing a place with someone and will sometimes shut myself up in the room for want of closure (plus, I'm a little sad with *Gallant having just left for one and a half months back to China). It takes a little getting use to but I'm glad its with someone like *Em.
I went for a walk this evening at a nearby park and I must say Ang Mo Kio gardens is MASSIVE. My first sight was a pond of water lillies and neat rows of trees along garden pathways. There were sections as well, such as Mayflower Park and a large ground with poles for hanging up birdcages on Sundays so that people can admire your singing pet. Playgrounds with children laughing happily and their grandparents spending retirement in the best way possible (or at least, I think so). It was my moment of bliss, listening to light classical music on my headset and forgetting, for at least a moment, the stress of looking for a job.
Boyfriend
At this point, I am ready to conclude that *Gallant is *perfect save the few following reasons:
i. To tidy the bed in the morning when he wakes up
ii. If he can remember that happiness is not spelt with a 'y' (happyness)
iii. To not finish one third of my one liter bottle of shower foam in just one shower session
iv. To not sleep past 2pm
v. To practice a little bit of thrift rather than overwhelming generosity
vi. Must throw tissue paper away after use and not accidentally leave them lying around
vii. No reading in the bathroom
viii. Stop fixing my computer because he really doesn't know how to and I can't stop him as I fear bruising his male ego (it is not true that every guy can fix computers... he should know this)
ix. Must give in to playing twister with me
x. If he was not from China
In all aspects, I am sincerely proud and thankful for the wonderful qualities *Gallant has. In all confidence I will say that my *man will reach great successes one day. He's (almost) everything I want in a man. The relationship has definitely evolved sensibly and romantically over time as we are now more in tune with one another than ever before. My companion is loving, patient, kind and witty. The most cruel thing now is the fact that we are both foreigners with undetermined futures that will most likely tear us in different directions. I am more fearful of this now than ever.
He called me from the airport right before he boarded his flight and told me to look inside my cupboard. There, he left me a prepaid telephone card to call him in China as well as some money. He also bought me quite an expensive webcam in addition to his usual date expenditures. It is all very sweet, and gentlemanly of course. And really, I am tempted to accept all these as he is obviously the (immensely) more richer of us both. But I think it is wrong... I'll be returning all these when he returns.
I'd like to think that even if he was church-mouse poor, I'd love him just the same.
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