Just.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who loved ladybird classics and Enid Blyton books. She started reading from the age of 4 and never looked back ever since. She escaped into worlds of faraway trees, golliwogs, the naughtiest little girl and secret seven. She dreamed of having a fairy tale husband who took care of everything and she never had to worry about anything. Her parents had great hopes for her. She played the piano, aced her studies and did all the things little girls should.

This little girl soon grew up. She went to a SAP school that her parents are proud of. She hates the school, the system, the culture and all that it represented.

She longed for freedom. She longed to be free.

Soon, she got what she wanted. She stayed in a studio all by herself at the age of 17. She explored the world. She flew the skies as the docile Singapore Girl but she was never docile at heart. She was wild, like an unrestrained horse.

But not once did she step beyond the boundaries of her principles. She remembered what her mother said. She listened and obeyed even though people around her “did the scene”.

But still, the clock struck twelve, the pumpkin dealt her harsh cards and she found herself pregnant despite being on the pill. “HOW??!! How did it happen?!” she would always question. But the truth is, no matter how many times she question herself, question fate, the baby inside her would still be growing , living, breathing as her dilemma continues.

She decided to keep the baby. She decided to marry the baby’s father against her instincts and better judgement.

She had no wedding, no dinner, no celebration. She signed on the marriage papers one month before the delivery of the baby. Her parents hated him. Perhaps they knew better.

The baby sustained her enthusiasm for life. The fairy tale husband she dreamed of, had not materialized after all, perhaps trapped in the Never Never Land. Her husband, like an Israeli trainer, taught her survival and independence the harsh way. She wanted four children. She decided to settle for two instead, as she could only afford two on her own. She was already making plans to walk the lone path.

Once again, she rebelled against her bad cards, the obstacles, the “bad luck”, the seemingly dead end. “This cannot be my whole life! This can’t be what I am facing for the rest of my life!” she decided.

She decided to walk the lone path, no matter how hard it might be. She refused to fret about “how would I be able to take care of the children myself, how would I be able to cope financially, etc”

She is an educated and able woman with no physical disability, so why not?

She decided. She did. She moved on.

She thought that, that would be her life from now on. The children, work, hobbies, travelling a little, seeing the children grow up, get married and have their own kids.

She never thought about having another man, remarrying or such. “It’s impossible” she thought. “The marital status, the children, the emotional baggage… it’s impossible”

Then one day, the rain stopped, the rainbow appeared and she found the hidden treasure at the end of the rainbow.

Will she keep it? Or she relinquish it to a more worthy owner? Would she dare to believe in a fairy tale ending after living through a cursed nightmare?

Is life ever fair?

Our annual big ass brand party is happening this Saturday. It’s a big ass party because everyone and their grandma wants invites but it’s the usual fashion bullshit. The taitais, the fashion in people, the cool celebs get it. The B list starlets, the fashion wannabes, the cannot make its don’t. Oh, throw in the free flow of champagne, wines and hard liquor, you bet that the who’s who of the fashion industry will be coming.

I’d be head door bitch of a team of door bitches (female and “male” included) and I can feel my stress level rising even thinking about it.

Having dealings with taitais (TTs) and phone fashion types and knowing their idiosyncrasies and fondness of tantrums, I simply hate doing the PR thing and entertaining their nonsense. I hate having to juggle their delicate egos and their constant requests for front row seats or what nots. I hate having to talk the talk, walk the walk and smile the smile. I have it down pat… but I still hate it.

My boss loves to make me do this sort of thing, entertaining or calling his TT friends because he knows I can handle them and not ruffle their feathers. Of course, whether I like to do it or not, does not matter. He of course, gets on famously with them, and in my heart of hearts, I wonder if he really likes them all that much, or is it because they keep the cash registers busy?

The dilemmas of life.

The dress code for the party is HOT. If I get another stupid TT asking me what is hot, I will scream.

Why can’t these people be innovative and interpret their version of hot? Why do they have to ask me what is MY interpretation and do a suggestion for them based on what I know of their taste and body type?

*SCREAMS*

Very clearly, I am PMSing now.

I am slowly being burnt out like a candle wick. My work is getting crazy. My boss smses me at night and during the weekends. My children want more of me. My body is protesting. I feel my sanity dip to an alarmingly low level.

I can feel the blues coming on again.

I just tried to break it up with Big again yesterday. He would have none of it. My usual reasons of it being extremely unfair to him, not wanting him to be dragged into a huge commitment, etc, my feelings of guilt. He would have none of it.

The accumulation of physical and mental stress, work portfolio (tell me why I have to do his wife’s stuff when she has her own secretary??) the upcoming big ass brand party of which I have to be head door bitch, the acute guilt I have always felt from the beginning of the realationship; they all pooled up in me and I could not take it anymore.

The tears just flowed. I couldn’t stop.

He just held me in his arms, and refused to release me from his embrace or his life.

I love this man but I cannot bring myself to be selfish. He keeps saying that he’s happy. He doesn’t feel it’s a burden, he doesn’t feel it’s unfair, he’s ready for the responsibilities. He keeps reassuring me, but it’s not that I don’t believe him.

I can’t make myself do it.

I really don’t know what to do.

 The Vodka Bar at Changi Airport. Beautiful colours!

Pork knuckles with preserved vegetables (mui choy)

Very nice!

Olive rice with Chicken korma

The chicken was alright but the rice… My cooking tastes nicer, that says a lot.

Tom Yam Soup

Cute little mermaids at the Siam Underwater World

Very obliging and sporting girls, they are. Gamely posed for a picture.

The friendliest shark I’ve evar seen.

The living room cum kitchenette at Grand Diamond

The room

The bed (duh)

Yummy (and cheap!) sharksfin soup at Mah Boon Krong

Only 150 bahts!!

My favouritest teppanyaki place at Mah Boon Krong -

Their Japanese mushrooms with butter and sitr fried vegetables.

New Zealand steak with garlic. *heaven*

especially the little bits of fat that melts in your mouth..

My favourite River Prawn Steak with lots of garlic and spring onion on top!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE these!

Lastly, was very tickled by the name…IN AND OUT indeed…

OK, I’ve posted the pictures of my precious gifts on Mother’s Day and I really want to talk about the real meaning fo Mother’s Day to me.

I’ve been very down with flu for the last few days, and what Big and my children did for me, mean as much as they gifts they gave me.

The children behaved themselves, knowing that I am unwell. The usual raucous playing was toned down. The constant “mummy mummy” ceased.

Bog, to my utter surprise, completely took over the management of my household, right from the preparation of their school supplies to their bathtime and bedtime.

I must admit that I am very surprised. This is a single man, with no experience handling children that we are talking about.

Passed with flying soaring colours, I say.

***

Germaine spoke to me last night before I dozed off groggily to the influence of polarax.

“Mummy, you know the gifts are just an extra right?”

“What do you mean extra? Extra to what?”

“Mummy we already love you very much. We love you everyday. Not only on Mother’s Day. The gifts are only to make you happier.”

At this point, my grogginess lifted a little and I felt the tears prickling at the back of my eyes.

Geanyne ran over to me and hugged me saying,

“Mummy, I love you so much.”

No matter how difficult the path of single motherhood might have been, I never regretted the decision I made ten years ago.

***

Mother’s Day never held much great significance for me. It’s the same to me as Valentine’s Day (everyday is, if you are in love..) It’s more like a day where restaurants have a field day at the cash registers, if you ask me. However, you cannot not pander to it if you don’t want your mothers to feel left out… So.

Anyway, I take my mum out for dinners so regularly that the Mother’s Day is just one of that. A regular dinner, nothing out of the blue.

Mother’s Day and all its commercialism aside, what does motherhood really mean to you?

I think of the decision I made ten years ago.

It was a hard decision.

I had sleepless nights.

The pregnancy was a total surprise.

I did not want an abortion.

I did not want to stop flying.

I did not want to murder my unborn child.

Most of all, I did not want to marry the child’s father.

But still, end of the day, I decided to keep the baby and quit flying. I did not want to be one of those mums who spent more time on their work than on their children.

And even though the pregnancy was unplanned, the baby was and is a loved and wanted baby and never for one moment, I never felt that I needed to be “persuaded into having this baby” or felt that the baby was foisted on me.

Although I made a wrong decision (against my better judgement, I can see now) to marry her biological father and the marriage ended in shambles, I am thankful I have two great kids out of the union.

Both my babies were very much wanted and loved by me.

Motherhood along the years had been very tough for me, largely due to the hands off nature of their biological father.

It was tough, but I survived. I held on, with the strength I gathered from their little hands grasping mine, with their faces nested into my bosom.

It made me into a tough little bitch but that’s life.

Motherhood means that much to me, my 100% and more into providing their needs and wants. Protecting them from the perils of growing up. Being their friend. Spending as much time with them as I can.

Not providing a few pretty meals. Not jumping at the examination marks. Not screaming and nagging. (ok, I do scream sometimes.) Not bribing them with pricey toys in place of your absence. Etc etc.

To me, it’s the sacrifice of my carefree youth, my freedom and my space.

But I have never regretted a second of it.

That’s Motherhood and the remembrance of Mother’s Day to me.

Gifts from Germaine and Geanyne:

Card from Germaine

Muffin from Geanyne

Coloured Macaroni necklace from Geanyne

Sable hair brush from Geanyne and Big (she saved up to share with him!) I almost burst into tears, I was so touched.

And of course, the trip to Bangkok from Big, during which we had so much fun. More pics from Bangkok coming up..

Got this done from Chatuchak at Bangkok. The place is huge and rather mind boggling to explore. But we were fortunate that on the day we went, the weather was overcast, so no sun and rather cool.

I wanted to do a little rose at the bottom of my spine, but sadly no time..

Never mind, the real one coming up soon!

Big saved a piece of Krispy Kreme for me the other day and it was delicious. Now I am not a donut fan at all and so that means quite a lot.

We bought these from Mister Donut during the recent trip to Bangkok and they were……. drool worthy. Visually and gastronomically pleasing.

I have more food pics to load up and tempt you all.. Hehehe soon soon!

At one of the free internet kiosks at the Terminal 1 now.

Bangkok here we come!

I attended a Malay wedding last week with Big. It was his colleague’s wedding and she also invited me. It now feels like we are an official couple… attending weddings together as a couple… buying furniture..

It’s not a typical Malay wedding as held in void decks of HDB flats. The bride’s family is quite wealthy and lives in a landed property. So they set up a marquee tent outside their house and had a buffet line. It had a very nice outdoorsy garden feel to it. I like.

The roof decoration.

The wedding favour: a very pretty cupcake!

The centrepiece at every table

***

We had a totally random conversation about weddings and thankfully, we both hate the traditional Chinese style of wedding dinners. Think powerpoint presentation of photos, endless yum sengs, countless costume changes, boring sit down dining.

We both agree that his boss’ Armenian wedding was cool. Themed party, guests coming with afros and costumes, dancing and boogieing away. Wow.

I don’t see the point of inviting relatives you don’t even know, and only dread the “red bomb” and giving red packets.

I don’t see the point of going through the stress and pressure. Why can’t it be fun?

I am definitely not a traditionalist in this aspect. My wedding must be fun and funky! Hahahaha!

I am not into earrings; I made these for friends. They like what I do, and I like seeing the looks of delight on their faces.

A colleague got the axe this morning. I experienced a myriad of feelings about it.

I felt lousy because she is quite a down to earth and nice girl.

I felt that life is a little unfair because she is a very hardworking employee and gets along well with other colleagues.

I felt sad for her because not being confirmed and being asked to leave must be a damn lousy feeling. I think so. I am quite blessed as I have never been fired or retrenched before..

I felt bad because I do skive a little at work when boss is not around as in taking a little longer than usual lunches, surfing the net, blogging and listening to music. Don’t jump the gun now…. I do work very hard when he’s around. Very hard and very fast.

I felt indignant even, about it.

Let me explain why. Big and I saw her by chance the other day while we were out shopping and he asked me,

“I gather she is working in shipping or accounts…?”

Now, Big is not a mean guy. Not even a tinge of malice in him. What he meant was, this is the fashion industry after all. And  my colleague, while being a really nice and sweet person, did not believe in investing in her appearance and grooming. She will slouch around in her oversized cotton windbreaker, a sadly shapeless pair of jeans and a t shirt everyday. And being the fashion industry, appearance is everything. Shallow I know. Look at Ugly Betty. The very reason why it is so wildly popular is because people root for the underdog. The fact that the ugly girl gets a foot in the competitive and shallow industry, and that she can even survive in it, keeps the viewers glued to the screen every week.

But that’s reel after all.

In real life, people in the front line of the fashion industry must look good. The very criteria of hiring states that the candidate must be well groomed and pleasant looking. I know because I have seen the spec sheets out to our recruitment agencies. Of course, such requirements do not apply to the staff in store planning, visual merchandising, accounts, shipping etc. This is sad but true.

So, I feel a little indignant even though I don’t know if my colleague (now ex) was judged or ostracized in terms of her grooming (lack of). But on a floor of fashionista wannabes, I found her most real and in a way strangely superior to all of us, in the way that she does not need to be validated by her appearance.

This is something I can never be. I do admire her for being able to look beyond a fixation for outer beauty. But a minimum basics must be maintained… the question is where is the line?

For someone as vain as I am, it is definitely not safe to draw the guideline by my standards.

I mean, I go the whole 9 yards. Manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, cosmetics, accessories, hair treatments, you name it. My boss expects a lot of me because he entertains quite a number of visitors in his office and these are mostly taitais and management from other businesses. It would not do to have his PA look less than impeccably groomed given his (also) perfectionist character and social standing.

In fact, his instructions to HR was to find someone who has not only minimum 1o years secretarial experience, and must have served senior management, but also must have a good sense of dressing and grooming and look pleasant.

I am ashamed to admit this but countless of resumes and some, much more qualified and experienced than mine, had been rejected on the charge that the picture looked less than acceptable. Those who made it to the first two interviews by HR could not get pass the second one by him because the dressing was not stylish enough or worse, the candidate in person looked nothing like the picture.

Oh, and not forgetting the requirement that the candidate must be able to handle an extremely temperamental and demanding boss. I had my doubts when HR told me that.. and that the PA then had the misfortune of being yelled at by him almost as a way of working life. I definitely had my doubts but I really wanted a foot into the industry and being me, I had the pigheaded mentality that the more difficult something is, the more I want to do it and do it well, damn it. 

So here I am. still surviving. The real life version of Ugly Betty.

Actually I was and still am a little disbelieving and awed that I got the job. Come on, I am neither skinny nor am I drop dead gorgeous. I still wonder sometimes how did I get this job, my dream job.

And it’s not like what some bitches think, that I have it so gooood at work because my boss dotes on me.

I am surfing the fashion websites and blogs, reading fashion mags and newsletters not as leisure. I am gathering material for him, you nasty snivelling bitches. And stop sniping about him calling me “my dear” already. Why shouldn’t he be happy to see me after a business trip? And why is it any of your business that he is nice to me?? I help him so much in terms of his work and his personal matters. Were you around to solve the problem when his newly bought puppy christens his house with sprinkling of pee? Were you around to take his calls or smses on weekends when he needs help about visa or special vegetarian menus? Were you the one who manage his schedule and all the nitty gritty details so that he can do the crucial work of managing the business in peace? No, you weren’t. So get a grip already and stop griping about others.

Man, I hate jealousy.

I ended up indulging my accessories fetish too:

Flowers from Big. My colleagues think he’s the cat’s whiskers

***

I finished the last installment of Big’s birthday gift last Friday; a good session of aromatherapy massage.

I gathered from his face that he’s a really happy camper.

And so… ends the installment of activities for his birthday in 2007.

And it might seem like we are trying to up the ante to make each other happy.. because…Mother’s day gift to me: a short trip to Bangkok for some serious shopping!!!

At this point in life, I am really happy.

The kids are angels, my parents are healthy, the man adores me and the boss dotes on me.

Really, I could not ask for anything more.

***

Speaking of the parents, my dad drove us to this Nan Huat place at North Bridge Road and the food was really great. The prices were fantastic too. For a table of six, we paid only about $50 for fish, sambal potato leaves and chicken dishes. Did I say the food was great?

And no, I didn’t take pictures… the presentation is not their strength

Sidenote: I think I would feel damn weird if my parents read my blog. Not that I have anything to hide… just weird.

OK this is the 2nd last installment of his birthday plans. Damn, it’s almost like the 12 days of Christmas!

Those of you who know me well, know that I really don’t like to cook. It’s like a “gotta prove myself” thing. I can do it, and can do it well, but I just don’t like it. For one, I hate the heat. Secondly I HATE the cleaning up afterwards. And me being the anal retentive OCD Ms Everything must be clean and perfect, I hate it when my walls, stove and floors get oily. I hate it when my kitchen gets cluttered.

On the other hand, I enjoy baking, despite the relative mess… Maybe it’s just not as hot, and the very act of mixing flour into egg and water and the decoration after is rather therapeutic. But I digress.

So, I decided that a real act of love would be to cook for Big and to cook the dishes he likes..

So:

Starters: Fried Spring Rolls with sweet thai chilli sauce

The lazy girl’s version: using cabbage instead of radish. It tastes just as good (according to Big anyway

Main: Pineapple rice with stir fried kailan and green chicken curry

I really enjoyed seeing him enjoy the dinner I cooked… The green chicken curry is a winner; he really likes it. It’s easy to prepare and to cook too so, I am thinking it’s going to make its appearance every now and then on our dining table.

Am not pleased with the pineapple rice, even though he likes it. I feel that it’s not “zesty” enough. Not enough zing to it. The recipe called for too little pineapple for my taste… would require more modifying and fine-tuning.

But on the whole, everything was cleaned up, cosy, perfect by the time he got back for dinner, and the food on the whole (with the exception of the weak pineapple rice) looked and tasted good, by my standards. I am pleased. *beams*

I just love to see his face light up each time he gets his segmented birthday present… Tomorrow is the last installment….

I can’t wait.