profile Firmly believes in life after death. Secretly addicted to Gossip Girl & ATNM (oh, the shame). Finds painting own nails therapeutic. Takes an eternity to make a decision. Likes to swim. Fancies self as seasoned chef in manner of Masaharu Morimoto. Hates driving during rush hour. Feels happiest waking up to bright sunny mornings. Is afraid of cockroaches and balloons. Dislikes awkward silence. Buys too many dresses and not enough comfortable shoes. Is convinced that people only appreciate what they have to work hard for. tagboard archives February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 August 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 skin by: Jane |
Wednesday, July 30, 2008 @ 4:32 PM
What Are You Implying?? I hate it when people go, "Did you shower?" Like, what's that supposed to imply? That I stink? That my hair is greasy? Or is it juz the normal way you say hello where you come from? What was it again... Freakz R' Us?? And whatever the answer is it'll sound stupid and awkward. How's the conversation supposed to go from there? "Yes, I showered. Um, did you? ...Great. We both did." Huhhh???? But nothing beats this one - "Did you sleep last night?" There're quite a few variations. "Din sleep ah??" "You din sleep well isit?" Not enough sleep ah??" I swear, people use these phrases as GREETINGS. As in, the only thing they can think of asking when they bump into someone is the person's sleeping habits. Or lack thereof. I don't think it's proper to bring up the fact that the person has eyebags the size of grapefruits at ANY time of the day, much less when you first greet someone. Maybe it's just a warped way of showing your concern, but it's still warped and inappropriate. =P Not to mention mildly insulting. And yes, I DID shower, and I slept well and long enough, thank you very much. @ 3:05 PM
Need. To. Shop. Me wanna go shopping~. I was walking around Midvalley last weekend while waiting for my friends, and the sale is SO on. MNG, ZARA, Top Shop!! *fAints* Browsing through my wardrobe, I have to admit I've been buying too many one-piece dresses (is it oxymoronic? I mean, a dress IS a one-piece item. But sometimes one-pieces are not dresses...). I like dresses. They're easy to wear, and mostly flattering. But my wardrobe'd be more versatile if I buy more separate tops and bottoms... There's this adorable high-waist shorts in Top Shop... High-waisted pants used to be such a fashion taboo when we were younger, more so if you tucked your shirt inside. And now it's all the rage. Along with colorful tights and Mary-Janes. Shoes! I need shoes. Working shoes. I always wear these two pairs of shoes to work. One of them has died and gone to shoe heaven, and this pair that I'm still hanging on to is slowly dying a painful and ugly death... The soles are turning out all weird. I liked this pair; I bought them in Robinsons with my mom. Or rather, my mom bought them for me in Robinsons. Hehee, same difference? ;P I wish my hair is longer. Or shorter. Either one. Just not this current length that is neither here nor there. I know it'd come to this stage sooner or later, especially since I chopped off my long hair in favor of a short bop a couple of months ago. And it's been fine, just that I have to blow-dry my hair every day or I'll look like I've been stranded in an island for five years. This is a completely bimbotic post. But I don't care. I'm sick and I'm at work. I need sympathy, not a self-righteous, PMS-sy boss that barks at everyone for existing. Yes, a male boss that encounters PMS. Only difference is that it's weekly. Was Janice's birthday yesterday. I probably should've gone for the dinner at Pavillion when Pang asked, but it took all of my conscious effort to get myself home, so I decided against it. And I didn't tell him I was sick coz then it'll sound like a lame excuse, so I just told him I'll make it up to her another time. Sighz. Tuesday, July 29, 2008 @ 1:48 PM
Stay Away From Me One of my bosses went to Bangkok for the weekend. He packed up his belongings quietly and slipped off on Friday afternoon. My fellow group member, I'll call her Naomi, ran to our corner of the office and announced that the boss was leaving in a KLIA Limo. We watched him wave the guard away as they try to scan his name tag with a portable scanner on his way out and get on the car from the glass windows behind my cubicle. "He didn't even let any of us know he was leaving," Naomi observed. We all knew why. He was doing exactly what he always accused others of doing - leaving the office during office hours without prior notification. We also knew why he was going to Bangkok for the weekend. Alone. "But what he's gonna do in Bangkok all alone..." Penny wondered aloud. I guess not everyone knew. "All I'm saying," Naomi started as she put away her cell phone, "is that he'd better not come back with any weird diseases. And I'm staying clear of him next week." I burst out laughing. Couldn't have said it better myself. ___________________________________ He was back at work on Monday, all boisterous and overwhelming as usual. With a packet of tissue paper in his hands and sneezing constantly. Not so usual. "Got you guys chocolate. Get it from Naomi." He came to our cubicles waay too early in the morning smelling like cheap perfume. I visibly shrank away as he leaned over to read the assembly speech I was drafting out for him. "I'm juz looking! What was the reaction for." He blew his nose into a crumpled tissue paper. I stared at the used tissue, resisting the urge to wipe my entire desk with anti-bacterial gel right there and then. He noticed my uncomfortable stare. "Boo!" He waved the blasted germ-infested thing in front of me. Involuntarily, I let out a yelp and shot out of my seat. "You're a dirty old man!" It came out of my mouth before I could control myself. The silence that followed was deafening. For a split second, the boss looked as if he was going to say something, then stopped. My leader, who sat next to me, looked around uneasily. "Just pass me the speech when you're done." And he left, contaminated tissue still in hand. Naomi and I have been feeling like crap (physically) for the past two days. I just hope it's nothing more than a normal flu. Ugh. He disgusts me, seriously. Monday, July 28, 2008 @ 5:09 PM
Can You Spell Obvious?  It's not Page Six, but it's still pretty damn public. Tuesday, July 22, 2008 @ 3:14 PM
In Hot Water S-san walked out of his office with his hands filled with pens. He stopped in front of my desk. "I bought these last week," he started, waving his handful of pens slightly. "Half of them don't work." He handed me the pens held in his left hand. "Make them work." He says with a firm smile and sauntered back into his office. Shuure. I'll put in my best efforts to making your cheap ballpens work. Ballpens that probably don't work because they've been on the shelves for so long the ink's gone dry. I tried to remember how i dealt with stubbborn ballpens like these when I was in school. Rubbing them in between my palms to warm up the ink enough to get it flowing, blowing hot air at the pointy tips to... so basically the theory is that I need to warm the bloody things up to get them flowing and working again. Absolutely no sexual connotations whatsoever. Reluctantly, I took off my fluffy office slippers, slip my feet into the tough, cold working heels and head towards the pantry to get a cup of boiling hot water. After successfully burning my thumb at the electric water boiler, I got back to my seat with a mug of hot water and placed the pens in it. And waited. Ten minutes later, I took one of the pens and tried it out on a piece of scrap paper. Nothing. The pen feels warm but it wasn't working... I decided to place the pens with their point tips facing down instead. Another ten minutes later and the pens were writing smoothly like ink pens. XD Trying hard to control the self-satisfied grin that threatens to break across my face, I went inside S-san's room and handed him the slightly warm pens. "It's impossible right," he misconcluded matter-of-factly. "No sir, actually they work fine now." "No way!" He grabbed the pens from me and started scribbling with them one by one. "But how...?" I explained to him. "Oh... thanks." I love it when I exceed people's (albeit low) expectations of me. ^o^ Monday, July 21, 2008 @ 12:01 PM
Blair me project A: You remind me of that girl on Gossip Girl. C: Which one? A: The brunette. What's her name again? C: Blair. A: Yeah yeah. Coz she knows how to dress well also. Best compliment of the week. *bEam* Coz I love Blair. Everything she puts on is just immaculate. Preppy hairbands. Short, one-piece dresses. Rad tights. And I think it's perfect how she can completely turn heads without revealing much skin. She's a bitch but she's gorgeous. 
 I wish I have Blair Waldorf's wardrobe. Sunday, July 20, 2008 @ 9:15 PM
Ipoh with Colleagues  Nami, Murakami, Me, Mommy (what's she doing here??), Iwabuchi
Some of my colleagues followed me back to Ipoh last weekend. It was a hectic two days, driving them from one place to another. I've never even been to some of the places they wanted to go, like Gunung Lang. Or Kellie's Castle. Two hours of relaxing facial and massage at my usual beauty salon was the only time I had to moiself. Initially, they told me not to worry about them, that they'd find their own way around and stuff. The only thing they needed from me was a ride to and fro KL. I knew it was just Japanese courtesy, and that I should insist on bringing them around, but I reaally wanted to go get my hair cut and facial done that weekend so... I kept quiet. And promptly got a lashing from my parents for being so inconsiderate. They're foreigners coming to your hometown! It's an obligation! Let Pa Ma treat them to lunch at Overseas! -___-; But it went pretty well, if I do say so myself. And they paid for the toll and gasoline. Which I probably should've declined based on Japanese hospitality rules but... Ehehe. 0=) For the sake of argument (in my favor =P), they're earning expat wages. They can definitely afford to be courteous. Monday, July 14, 2008 @ 10:58 AM
Nicknames He was flipping through one of the fashion magazines idly, more to have something to do with his hands rather than to get dressing tips from a female mag. I was doing my routine facebook surfing thing, looking for new photos to check out and updated profiles to kay-po about. I landed on his facebook profile. "Why do you call yourself XXX?" "It's just my nickname since a long time ago." "It reminds me of a band name. Do people actually call you that?" "Yeah. I have a lot of nicknames. What bout you? What do people call you?" "Cindy. Cinny... Bubbz... My family calls me Dy though. And my mom still calls me Baby sometimes...-__-;" "Haha serious?? ...So what should I call you?" "You can call me anything you want." "So... can I call you my girlfriend?" Friday, July 11, 2008 @ 4:38 PM
Zip UP! I had a company dinner the next night. I was packing up all my stuff coz I was supposed to go to the function right after work (btw, I'm attending the dinner as a slave, not as a guest) Shoes, settled. Make up, done. Dress, OK... I took a second look at the black cocktail dress lying on my unmade bed. Hmm. The zipper at the side of the dress was a huge pain in the arse the last time I wore it. Even though it was close to midnight and I had a long day ahead the next day, I decided to try it on just in case. The friggin' zipper would not zip up properly. It kept getting stuck at midpoint, and the more I tugged at it the harder it got to actually unzip. Ok maybe it'd work better if I zip it gently. It didn't budge. Frustrated, I wriggled out of the little black monstrosity that was turning into the bane of my existence and flung it across my bed, completely working myself up into a full-blown anxiety attack. I had no other dress to wear (Hi, my name is Cindy and I never have back-up plans), no time to go shopping for one, and no money to get it repaired. I was freaking out in my room, half naked and sweating like a Sumo wrestler eating steamboat despite the air-cond on full blast. Another fifteen minutes of trying to get the blasted thing to zip up with AND without me in it, I was about to call my personal 911 for help. My mom. But it was already past midnight and rationally she couldn't have done much for me considering she was over 200km away from me. I heard football sounds coming from the TV. Downstairs. Immediate help! Although I had no idea how a 24-year-old bachelor can help me with a girly crisis such as the one currently at hand. I was that desperate. I dashed downstairs and knocked on the door. "ANDREAAA-- It won't ZIP UP!!" He looked bewildred for a moment as he stepped back to let me barge in. Then he took a look at the dress on my hand and burst out laughing. "For tomorrow night?" "YESSs. I know I should've tried it on way before but I didn't and now I have nothing to wearr!" Always in my most attractive behavior around my housemates, of coz. "Come, lemme have a look." He took the dress from me and checked the zipper, squinting at it like it was a specimen slide on a microscope. "It's broken adi." He announced just as the football crowd on TV groaned and moaned over a missed shot, like they were taunting me. I glared at the TV. Get your dress ruined the day before an important event and find TRUE misery, people. "Are you serious? Like, there's no way to fix it at all? Maybe at the alteration shops or something?" I was going on a panic attack; I could feel it. I needed someone to tell me it could be fixed, somehow, before 5pm tomorrow. "Well... they can probably change the whole zipper but it'll take some time." He tried to sound sympathetic, but I could tell he was biting his lips trying not to laugh at the crazed look on my face. As ridiculous and cliche as the situation was, I was seriously in distress. I buried my face into the fluffy pillows, hugging the dress as if to coax it into zipping up properly. "I am so dead..." Finally able to keep his laughter under control, he suggested that I wear it without unzipping the dress. IF I ever get it to zip up in the first place. The zipper was halfway done at that point. If only... half-heartedly I sat back up and tried to zip up the dress gently. God, please let it zip up, I promise I'll stop stealing the Japanese chocolate stash my group leader keeps hidden in the cabinet next to the copy machine if You'd help me fix this zip... It zipped up almost immediately, without me having to tug at it ceaselessly. Andrea and I looked at each other, then at the perfectly zipped up dress. "Go try it on la! Without unzipping it. Juz slip it over your head!" I was doubtful, but there was really no other way. No way was I gonna risk having it stuck in the middle the moment I try to unzip it. I slipped it on. It fitted perfectly. I didn't even have to struggle into it. So I managed to attend the dinner in a presentable outfit as a slave. All's right with the world. Needless to say, I stopped stealing my leader's chocolate. Instead, I told him I found out about his stash and insisted that he share it with the rest of us since I found out his salary is almost double of ours. He relented. XD |