I feel like it is a necessity to pay some tribute to the important people in my life, halfway round the globe, 8 time zones away (+1 daylight saving hour = 7 time zone at the moment), who relentlessly put up with my must-try-to-talk-for-one-hour-more-worth-it rants about my life, going non stop and most of the time boring and/or confusing. Yes, you.

I’m sorry I don’t do emails anymore. I really hardly have time for it.

Anyway, don’t think your effort is going unnoticed. I love you for that, for always being ready to talk to me, asleep or awake, boyfriend or no boyfriend. And if you are always ready to hear me out, I’m always here for you. Just a text message and your phone will be ringing. You don’t even need to call me.

I don’t suppose this is trying too hard to stay connected to home. Too hard is too harsh, in it?

Anyway, I love you I love you I love you for that.

And to finish off this warm and fuzzy entry, here is some light hearted tales from the new friends I’ve made so far:

Asians? Oriental?

See the last time I recall, Singapore IS part of South East Asia. Besides calling ourselves Singaporeans or Chinese, we can also call ourselves Asians. But here, Asian is generally reserved for people from the Middle East and maybe from India. Well, mainly (pardon me for not being exactly very politically correct) the darker ones. Chinese, Japanese and perhaps Koreans (who I have started to detest because they are really annoying) are more affectionally known as Orientals.

Pants? Trousers?

Basically, pants IS underpants. Underwear. Knickers. Panties. Anything that covers your legs, no matter what material it is made of, ranging from corduroy to denim to leather to nylon to latex, it is trousers. It also doesn’t matter whether you are a man or a woman or in between.

Tights? Stockings? Leggings?

Singaporean understanding of stockings are well, stockings. Here, they call it tights. What we think are tights (like bicycle tights) are known as leggings.

The banning of the chewing gum

Nobody seem to understand why chewing gum is banned. Whilst I tend to agree that it does indeed sound like the stupidest thing on Earth to ban (and it seems like we are the only country in the world who does that), I look at the walkways of the streets of London with all the chewing gum stuck and turned black like failed patterns on the ground on what should have been beautiful stone pavements, I convince myself that there is some truth in the ban (nodding my head silently at the excellence of our government, spitting the gum on the pavement, leaving my permanent mark on the street).

Crime rate is zero in Singapore

Some ridiculous bloke asked me if it is true, that there are no crimes at all in Singapore? Then, rumours has it that people who are so so restrained from these laws kind of exploded with rage and formed gangs who chop people up into pieces (which must then mean, that it cannot be zero crime rate, right?)

Capital punishment and drugs

The death penalty is such a debatable topic. Some wished England (and Ireland) has such laws, some couldn’t believe at this day and age there is still the death penalty. And when I mentioned how if you traffic drugs it’s the death penalty, they just shook their heads with a mixed look of surprise and disgust.

My comments? I think having such strict controls may be stifling, and fact is if you have never been through experience, you wouldn’t know what innocence is. Perhaps you can say if you have never lived in a country where freedom of speech is so highly regarded that they do not ID the people who lives in this country (there is no such thing as an ID card, or IC in our local context, apart from driving licenses), where binge drinking is number one in Europe, where drugs are almost legal, you probably wouldn’t think of what you have had your whole life is stifling. When there is nothing to be compared with, you wouldn’t know. Which also means don’t know anything about the world at all.

I have met people who started taking drugs at 15, sold them illegally to make money to take more drugs, got busted by parents who raid their rooms and found packs of Es, and that makes me wonder if this is the kind of lifestyle you want your kids to grow up in. Not that these people I’m talking about are now scums of the society who lives on benefits – they managed to get a decent Bachelor and some are onto their Masters and earning at least thirty thousand a year – and if I may say, contributing quite a bit of tax to the scums of the society – although still drinking and getting drunk every other day of the week.

And at the end of the day, you still get doctors and lawyers and engineers and architects and policemen and firefighters from this crazy city. The society does work (even though their food sucks). The square mile I am working in is still the richest square mile in the entire world; London is still a place many people want to live and work and visit.

So there, welcome to England.

Ping

effy misses you too. don't smoke so much lah

Moments of reflection

10th of June was the day I arrived in London. It is now some 3 months since I’m here and it only seems the right thing to have a moment of reflection of some sort.

So it all started with staying at my cousin’s place. Having a relative to look out for must be the biggest pain on Earth. Except that I was the pain. I must have caused him so much trouble I feel bad. I can even imagine him complaining to his mother my auntie (here they say auntie too, not aunt, like the Yankees) about it but blood is thicker than water. One day I will tell him how sorry I am.

Then there was this other Singaporean who was a friend’s friend who I waited for to find a place to live together. Turned out she back out last minute and is the main cause of why I am staying where I am. But I guess it is a blessing in disguise because we wouldn’t have been the best of friends anywhere – we probably wouldn’t get along that well, especially the staggering home on Fridays wouldn’t go so well with her. Besides, I love the privacy of having my own room now and wouldn’t give it up for anything.

The bulk of my life so far is work and I know I have said this a million times but I really really think that I have been so fortunate to land in a job like this. Perhaps this is just how all offices in Central London are like, but I doubt every office brings 30 twenty-something smart and fun people together at the same time. Just last Saturday when I was out with my mates having what I think has been the best night so far since I’ve been here in London, (I don’t even want to call them colleagues because they are so much more than that), we were ranting about how fantastic it has been. More often than not you’re lucky to get 1 good friend at work – but here I can name at least 10 people I really love, people I wish I lived with, people I will stay in touch with and go out frequently after we leave this job, people I will go visit at their home countries, (mainly Aussies and Kiwis if they are not English) people to bitch and gossip with, people to bitch and gossip about, people who I am more than happy to throw my hugs around, for these people are my family away from home, people who have seen me drunk and silly and love me for that, people who goes as drunk and act as silly as I am and I love them for that, people who loves me as a little China doll and thinks I am so small I needs to be taken care of all the time and always, always on the lookout for me, people who knows exactly what I am going through right now, who are as stressed and as busy and as no life as I am because of the workload, people who can go out at 8pm to get a pint of beer after seeing each other for 11 hours just to rant about work. It’s incredible how much I have grown to love them – and yet retain a certain level of detachment at the same time.

I’ve also came up with a sort of vague plan for the rest of the months. I reckon I will soon get bored of London especially with the fact that my next job will be nowhere as fun as the one I am having now, and the fact that the harsh infamous weather is coming – sun now no longer sets at 9pm but starts to get dark at about 7pm. Soon it will be about 4pm. It’d be too cold to get around and depressing – I can anticipate that. So I decided I’d probably go to Canada to look for my other family and be a pain again for Christmas and New Year, then perhaps head to California again if I find it too cold and stay there for a while if I like it (this colleague of mine stayed in Hollywood for 11 months and loved it – so I might go check it out and see if I’d like it too), come home at some point before May for a visit, then head back to London for the next season at the same place I’m working, doing a big one or two month Europe trip in May-June or something if I have sufficient funds at that point, or else, do it in October after the season ends. But I’m definitely going to come back to Europe. I have not yet seen it at all, and it is quite stupid of me not to I know, and go transatlantic but then again, I’ve considered this hard and long and I sort of think that this is the best plan yet.

And maybe, I may bring one or more inspired souls along from Singapore with me next year. Who knows?

I am sorry I have not been updating. I actually wrote a draft out but it's in my thumb drive and I keep forgetting to bring it along to work.

Anyway, At this moment, at 6.55pm and still a lot of work to do, and hungry like siao, I just want to have beef noodle soup. Not noodle, but tang hoon.

The gu bah mee from BKK.

I'm going to go home and try to remake the magic. Apparently the raw beef are from eye of steak cut. TMD ex, but in thin slices, so maybe I'd try to buy 1 piece of steak and eat it for the next 3 days.

The highlight of next week is....

The Phantom of the Opera

I am so sure it will be worth all of my £35, even though I am more than happy to pay more and sit at the stall but my colleagues don't want to. I'm sure I will watch it in the front few rows at least once in my life - at nowhere else but THE BROADWAY.

I am so going to cry when I watch it. My dream is coming true! Phantom at West end!

TUESDAY!

Life as of now

I know I owe you a real update of my life. Not just silly things like saying I want to get a boob job, or that I have been drinking excessively (I have); but true honest to goodness how has life been for you sort of update.

And why did I decide to, on a Wednesday morning at 1am to write a VERY lengthy entry (it’s drafted at home on my laptop because I am always too busy at work to write a good update)?
3 words – The Vegemite Tales

My first theatre in London. Tonight. This following abstract is from the programme of the play:

"It’s a pretty frightening thing to pack up your home, say ‘See you in two year!’ to your family, hop on a plane and find yourself at Heathrow Airport. I was lucky enough during my four and a half years in London to find the most fantastic makeshift family of friends to travel, write, put on plays, fight, love and grow with…

… The play is also a salute to London – the most magnificent, exciting, diverse and alive city I’ve ever had the luck to live in. in London, every opportunity is before you…"

It was too close to home. It’s really playing out what my life could be, would be in the next few months. Despite being such an awesome play and crackingly funny to bits, it was so intimate and emotion wrecking that I felt that sick feeling the actor felt when he took the last look at the flat he stayed for seven years before returning home for good. Friends I will meet and part, not knowing when we will ever meet again; places I will live and party; things I will do and experience – to laugh to cry to hug to kiss to fall in love to fall out of love to scream at the top of my lungs to wave my arms wildly to dance like no one is watching to sing and jump about in the rain. To wear my black boots and coat with hands in my pocket and stroll down the stone pavement, heels clicking, breeze chilling and numbing my face, with that faint smile in disbelief at what I am doing now at this moment in my life. What will happen to me when I realize – it’s time to go home.

But maybe, when that day comes, when I know I am ready, it will be different. I can’t say much. It’s only been three months.

So my life update. Yes. What have I been up to?

Things I have done:

Earned my pounds – while I am nowhere near being able to live like a queen, a princess, a duchess or any other royalty down the chain, I am able to go to the supermarket, pick up whatever I feel like eating and not have to do a double take on checking out the price of the house brands or rush for the lowest, cheapest priced ones. I also can, but have yet to do much of, go to any decent bar or pub or restaurant or café and sit down and order what I would like to eat without feeling sick for spending the money. In general, I do not have to scrimp and save as badly as an exchange student on a tight budget would. And I am very happy about it. I work my ass off at a company that will add value to my CV, with colleagues that make my day more interesting, and a job nature that actually interest me and makes me feel important.

Worked my body – paying four teners a month is quite a big thing. After all, I wouldn’t have expected a monthly gym membership to be S$123 a month. But I still joined it, and have been going faithfully for a minimum of 3 times a week and fallen in love with yoga. I feel good. Oh and I walk to and from work almost all the time. It’s a 40 minutes walk.

Blended in well enough – by my own standard, with my colleagues and everyone else I’ve met. I’ve apparently amazed people by how well I sort of fitted in as compared to the typecasted shy Asian that backs away or just somehow don’t catch on with the banter but someone who joins in the fun and thank God not very off when it comes to cracking a joke. They, the English with their ‘humour’, think I am actually funny (at times).

Kept in touch – I actually think my relationship with my family (my dad in particular) improved tremendously because being away means you do not get on each others’ nerves and in fact appreciate the little communication you have with each other. We write each other emails everyday and I think I know more about his life and vice versa now than before. I even told him I have broken up with the boy (well I should have before I left but at least I bother to tell him now!). And everytime I call them up I get really excited and feel very happy after I hang up. Moderation is probably the key.

What I should NOT have done:

This is kinda tough to say though. While I can say yes I wish I didn’t, but my personal counter argument would be that everything happened for a reason and contribute to the whole experience and learning curve. But here are some-

Drinking excessively – while I have done that before, and as Ping says, I always get drinking jobs – it is happening too much too quickly here. When high on alcohol I get silly. Good parts are I am a good source of entertainment and I don’t mind – it is really fun. But I also get emotionally charged and start to cry over the dumbest things at times. And call people up long distance. And the time difference means I call people up at 7am expecting them to be at my beck and call. That is irritating. I’m sorry.

Get involved with work gossip – maybe it’s inevitable, but not really still. But it had happened, and I wish it hadn’t. Simply put, it complicates things.

Get emotionally involved with people far away – never a good idea when you are all alone in a big city for the first time in your life.

What I wish I did, or hope to do:

Stayed somewhere else – to be honest, my house is a dump. First of all, it’s an ex council flat which is about 50 year old (old buildings are fine but these are dump places that were build for the poor Eastenders, imagine an unupgraded unkempted 50 year old blocks of flats will be like), most likely have rats because it freaking stinks at times (LIKE NOW), and is going to be demolished in a few months time. I rather have a double bed because I am used to it at home and for more reasons than that. Then, my flatmates are nice but they are boring. The sort of people who gets mad and leave stupid notes in the toilet and kitchen to get people to clean up. I wish they were people like my colleagues or people in the play – good fun, good laugh, more tolerant to nonsense, drink more booze, bring people home, fool around. But they just live in London, hate London and just wanna do their stuff and get the hell out. They’d probably freak out (but not saying anything to your face but talk about you behind your back) if I bring boys home. Lastly, while this is a fantastic location being very much central, as I mentioned earlier, the fact that I can take a 40 minute walk to work, and it has buses and night buses that goes everywhere I want to go and tube station and rail station a stone throw away, but it’s South London (hence not exactly a great area and if I may put it bluntly, at the beginning of where the blacks stays). So I’m at the start of it and then as it goes further out it gets worse. I feel kinda frighten going home late at night although nothing bad has happened to me before except the usual cat calling. But I am paying peanuts (actually, macadamia nuts cos it’s not exactly cheap) so I can’t exactly complain. Since I plan to go away from UK for a bit, I’d probably do a house hunt again when I’m back.

Travel around UK – nearby places like Oxford, Cambridge, Bath, another trip to Stratford Upon Avon should have been done in the summer when the weather was good. Now it’s beginning to get cold and annoying. Then again, since I might be staying for the next summer, it’s not a pressing issue.

Go to Calgary for Xmas – it is quite likely to come true. I’ve got family there and I want to have a real white Xmas and not a 1cm thick layer of snow in London (if it snows at all) but real family, real turkey, (maybe) real Xmas tree and real snow.

Go back to CA – just for a trip. Say hi to Uncle Sam, do a bit of Los Angeles and maybe just work dumb dumb jobs for a bit to survive. America still has its appeal, although I really really want to go to New York as well.

To be honest I regretted buying a one year return ticket. I am not sure if I will be ready to go home. It’s silly I’m saying this now just 3 months into my 1 year. And of course, arguably I can always go home for a visit and then come back, but honestly I am so scared it might change my perspective of things again when I am home. Because for now, what is really cool about my life is that I feel like I have put everything at home on hold – my life, my mates, my family, my career – it’s great to know that as a girl (or a doll), it’s not that bad. But if I go home to ‘reality’, I may just get right back onto the rat race and go hey you have to start planning your life. And at this moment, I really don’t want to. I still think I have a few years to spare. Surely my youth will run out – but I really think 23 is a great age to be out. Because I am not a silly 20 year old who thinks I am an adult and thinks that I think like an adult. I am going 24, still silly, but quite sure I am an adult and genuinely believe that I can think like an adult when I need to. Besides, there is no guarantee that just because I am back at home, I will be able to carve out a fantastic career path and know where I will be in 5, 10 years. I am earning (but spending) much more than I can ever make for the next 3 years if I am at home, so I don’t exactly see that big a problem.
And maybe, at some point in this entry I am thinking like a silly 20 year old who thinks that the possibility of meeting a bloke that I would like to marry, have beautiful half Asian kids, a house with a lawn in the suburbs out of London is there. But I am not hanging my hopes up high, nor actively posting such a request on the internet.

Someone said to me, you know, I think you will never be ready to go home. You are not going to able to settle back into tiny Singapore anymore.

I shrugged. 3 months is a little too early to tell. But if that is going to happen, then it will. It’s just life, isn’t it.

But just like at one point in the play where one of the actress broke down in tears and cried when the going was tough,

"I just want to go home. I want my mum…"

It kinda hit me that there is no place like home where everyone is. I mean, the bed is more comfortable, the roads are more familiar, the food taste better. Everyone you know your whole entire life is a stone throw a phone call a prata shop away. That is good to know.

But in the meantime, being a call an email away have to suffice.

Missing everyone so much. Try to visit me if you can. London is fantastic, I vouch my life on it.

My Weekend

I did exactly the same thing as I did last week - go to Yoga, shopped, cooked and fell asleep watching tv on Sunday.

I fancy buying a yoga mat as I am really quite getting into it. And did I mention I can do a headstand (thanks to our breakdancing training in NTU). I am aiming to do it without the wall soon. I can feel my neck muscle growing (and i'm not trying to be funny).

Apart from that, it's the usual getting drunk and being silly on Friday.

But I actually feel quite bad though. Like there are so many things I want to do and I can list out 3 Ms - Musicals, Markets and Museums; but I always end up having a quiet weekend doing nothing.

Well, not that the weather is helping. The depressing rainy London is here. Except that it's August and shouldn't be the case.

Next week then!

Live and let live

Drinking in abundance seems to be part of every job I take on. I just think it's kinda dumb how I work my ass off at gym then pump down all the calories 3 times a week down to kill my liver.
But I still do it.
I felt so awful on Sunday that I really had to stay home, go to gym for Yoga, cook a nice meal for myself and watch tv and fall asleep. I got home at 3am on Wednesday, 3am on Friday and 5am on Saturday.
This week - no more. Ok, only one day - Friday.

In the world of tall blokes and dolls where image (and height) is important, I have gone ahead and bought a pair of killer heels, otherwise known as

The Stilettos



for my little broker party today. I just can't go in my almost flat pumps that looks like it is about to fall apart. In fact, it will be thrown away soon.

Now I just to stand tall but look way ahead for any potential little pot holes that I can die from if I fall. And maybe make sure I don't drink too much as a stumble will be damaging to my image and life.

I feel like getting a boob job.