OD

I have OD-ed my online accounts.

I just realised I have too many Internet accounts that I cannot keep track of, much less remember even the user IDs.

I remembered registering under a certain website for blogskins about 2 years ago.

Just yesterday, I found myself as a non-identifiable user on it.

No trace of any of the nicknames that I possibly had used back then.

Sheesh.

Coming back to the main subject, let me just type as many accounts as I can recall in this virtual world.

Blogger, Friendster, Facebook, Shutterfly, Photobucket, Youtube, Imeem, Neopets, ESPN/Star Sports, 2 Gmails, 2 Hotmails, 1 Yahoo...

These are the ones that I somehow manage to log on to every time despite the fact that I have to stare at the screen for at least 5 minutes when the password box comes out.

Its been proven.

I'm just an Internet geek.

EHM

I refer to TNP's Adam Hashidy's column in the 1st Sept issue.

In it, he defined an EHM lady, mainly known as Emotionally High Maintenance.

And I have finally found my identity.

To sum up what it actually meant in the article, a lady who is EHM is actually a financially-independent lady who "acts all ballsy and confident. but when in private, needs all the attention she can get and that means her man must be a giant sponge."

Adam actually finds it a problem to deal with this type of ladies, and I actually indentified the main reason why I have been having so many failed relationships.

You see, I am known to be someone who embraces the ideas of going Dutch, burning holes in my pockets everytime I step into Zara and never fully appreciative of expensive gifts and even flowers (except faking it up front to make the guy feel better). I have this weird notion of materials' inability to make up for true delivery of emotions. But of course, if any one of you would love to sponsor my next shopping spree, it would be of great assistance.

Talking about flowers, I remembered being envious of girls who received roses for Valentine's Day in secondary school. But after receiving my first bouquet in college, I realised I didn't miss much; it was the note attached to the flowers that meant much more, from what I remembered, that is. And expensive gifts like branded watches and jewellery was never the top of my most favourite gifts either.

For Adam, I would like to remind him that in most cases, the men who can really appreciate the EHMs are mostly attached or married. The single ones are probably in a 11:1 ratio of minority. And Adam, I would not think you are included in this group of study.

So, in other words, single women like me, have to fight our claws to get into the books of the single unit ratio.

I can safely say most women are EHM. The rest are probably MHM (Materially High Maintenance). And trust me, these women burn a hell lot out of their men's pockets to buy the latest Louis Vuitton than the EHMs burning the men's energy.

I want to summon the ladies a question, who doesn't want a man who can make us laugh and be there for us when we need them?

Adam probably has never met a MHM before, I reckon.

For one thing, being an EHM, I fully appreciate the guy to double up as my best friend, just like how Zahari has been for me. If the guy can't make me smile and laugh like how he does with his sarcastic and narcissistic jokes, I'd send the guy straight out of the door. But just to set the record straight, Zahari and I are strictly platonic best friends for 9 years who date each other out of convenience since both of us are single anyway.

When I am free, I would end up messaging or calling him if I know he was free too (which is rarely), even in the middle of the night at 3am. That's one of my typical traits. So I am still bewildered as to how a guy I previously dated termed me as "possessive" in that sense when I clearly did not control his freedom nor was I jealous of every single feline who messages him. I seriously feel for his lack of command in English by which, in other words, he had proven his insufficiency in intellect.

Yes, the guy must be my Aunt Agony. Ask any happily attached or married guy out there whether they are not one to their partners.

So Adam, you just failed to realise, the EHM ladies are actually simple ladies who can buy their own diamonds and hence save you from hanging by your neck on the credit card debts that your so-called "kampung girl" would cause you if you upset her more than once a day. If you think we could be insensitive to your hectic schedules, trust me, it takes a mere sweet reply even after two hours' of meeting to put us on cloud nine. And we do expect to be your Aunt Agony too so you could vent out your daily frustrations at work on us. And there you have it, communication, the most vital part of a relationship.

In conclusion to search for your "kampung girl", you should try to go for foreign brides matchmaking agency since you probably don't see communication as much of a priority...

Ps: Much to the amusement of my friends earlier on, I mixed up EHM with EMH. I must have been thinking too much of physics e.m.f...

-- originally dated 1/9/07

The Class 'B' License

I would like to propose for a new license in the making: Class 'B' license.

This license would not somehow be in demand, but it gives people their rights to act beyond traditional and acceptable behaviour, mostly girls.

You would not want to queue to pay to take the test, but you would secretly hope you'd have it at the back of your hands.

You see, this license allows the smartest girl to be an airhead yet turn into a word-welding piece of weapon.

My Glitters and Korean family happen to have this license at our fingertips. We are university-educated girls (and guy) who still experience uncontrollable fits of Bimboticity and Bitchiness.

For this license, I can assure you that I have passed it with flying colours.

I pushed a trolley of boxes, unglamorously, into the wrong office because I thought I was on the right floor. And I walked out back with my head up high despite the very obvious part where people there realised I went to the wrong floor.

When you run into situations like this, its best to have the license... At the back of your head. :)

-- originally dated 27/8/07

Like Glue

If Ms Waty of St. Hilda's Secondary School happened to be reading this entry, this has no coherence of whatsoever with her no.1 idol, Sean Da Paul. Ok, maybe a little.

Songs stick to your head. Like glue.

I am a Class 95 convert. Through and through. It gives me hits of the 80's, 90's and the present (not to mention the 2 tickets I won to watch The King And I. Thank you Carol!!!).

In this case, I'd have to admit my age. Fine, I'm gonna be 23. And it also meant that I lived through the same exact generation of songs that Class 95 plays.

Be it the Spice Girls "Wannabe" or George Michael's "Freedom",it relives back the good old times. You gotta admit, as much as you wanna criticize them, you were still crooning to Backstreet Boys, right? Heh.

But I'll give you another way to revive the classics aside from being passive, just listening to the radio.

K-A-R-A-O-K-E.

Do up videos of you, stupidly singing your lungs out, to Cranberries' "Promises". Complete that with maracas and tambourines. Oh yes, ensure proper lighting. Kindly ask the counter to provide you the room with disco ball lighting.

When you sing to "Stop" by the Spice Girls, stand up and do the dance together with your buddies. Do not assume you won't be seen however; the waiter might just barge in to give you the bill while you are in the midst of prancing around.

Learn 'new' old songs. Make sure you have another friend who knows songs that you don't have any tinkering of like "The Bohemian Rhapsody" or whatever its name is. See what I mean?

It is guaranteed, that after you get out of the karaoke session, the songs will really be stuck in your head.

Like glue.

PS: No actual 80's babies has been harmed in this entry despite the utter embarrassment that the experimented people had to endure.

-- originally dated 31/7/07

Public Displays

It was a close friend's question that got me questioning myself on certain shows of affection.

A.T: Ryu, how would you feel if you see your classmates openly hugging each other in front of you?

Me: Erm... I guess that's a question that you can ask... Mun?

(Ok... That was part of an inside joke. I can see some of my blog readers sniggering away already.)

Truth to be told, when is it ok to display your affections for each other publicly?

A.T's experience was such that he wanted to go up to those classmates of his to make small talk with them. But he withdrew his intentions when the couple suddenly gave themselves a BIG HUG (one that beats that of the Teletubbies'), clutching each other so tightly like there is no tomorrow. They didn't realise that their friend was too embarrassed to acknowledge his presence.

(note: it was a very crowded shopping area.)

Some people argue, its so sweet. They're in love, let them show it to the world. Embrace each other's love, what's wrong with it... Singapore's in dire need of babies. Make love, then make babies. Yeah, what you read in between the lines of those "Uniquely Singapore" commercials.

Maybe there's a thin line between envy and disgust.

Some people are just not so apt in seeing such overt displays. They believe that you can simply show too much affection not meant for other strangers' eyes. Especially in such a crowded area. We're in Singapore, with Asian cultural values. As to how Westernised we can be, you have to bear in mind that we have an ageing population here so most of this "ageing population" still bear those conservative values. Not only the elders, there are some younger adults who prefer to keep their utmost attraction to each other on a more discreet level.

(well, unless you're in Paris maybe?)

As to how discreet some levels that can be...

In a highly technological country like Singapore, most of us own internet access in our homes. Sites like Friendster, Multiply etc and blogs have been connecting people from all walks of life. You Friendster-hop, you blog-hop, and you get to know other people's lives, view their pictures and such. A highly-encouraged activity by enthusiasts of the Kaypoh industry.

The word "public" may probably be applied to the Internet world by now. As one of the inactive enthusiasts of the community mentioned above, I clicked onto a link that another (much more active member) friend had provided in her blog. She had indicated that it was highly recommended to read that blog for laughs, anyway.

What's new... A blog war. If you have Xiaxue vs Dawn Yeo (or whatever her surname is), we have the Malay community battling it out with one another via blogs.

But that entry of the blog was really witty and funny. With anagrams of real names, she hit it out at another blogger with her sarcasms lined with humour.

Again, I think of the same thin line. One that separates envy and disgust.

From the comments that she got from that entry, it seemed that the other blogger was "waiting to be blasted". I did not view that "victim's" blog but what I read was that she had put up overt displays of her seemingly perfect life. Some people backed her, saying that the witty blogger is just plain jealous of the "down-to-earth" blog. But at the same time, many more were agreeable on the fact that the other blog was written and decorated on such an exaggerating manner.

By the way, the subject of the blog war was the other blogger's birthday party for her one-year-old-son and the displays of the expensive birthday gifts her son got.

For me, its simple. I have a separate account for a blog and an online photo album (which I only give out the link exclusively to some people). I hate uploading photos on blogs itself. I mean, how long do you have to wait for probably 10 or more pictures of unimportant things* to be singularly uploaded onto your blog entry?

Of coz, I don't deny some people probably have a higher threshold of patience than I do.

So there you have it, Public Displays.

* "unimportant things" may include displays of affection (yah, the hugging, kissing etc), expensive gifts etc that you know has little relevance to the blog entry itself or nothing much to have a caption about (in other words, the pics are just there coz they're there).

PS: The writer has acknowledged herself as being one of the "more words, less pictures" bloggers. She has refused to max out the 50-pictures space in Friendster and prefer that her words express her a million than the saying of what a picture does.

-- originally dated 22/12/06

Her Gems

For the years of being together,

Feeling ever so protective of each other

From giving the fiercest glares,

To being the ones who truly care

They who have kept her sane,

And the rest who kept her amused amidst her pain

Even whilst nursing a broken soul

Is where their true beauty unfolds

Unbelievable moments that give them away,

Like no other dancers could ever sway

Mistakened amongst leaves as a dead crow,

In some juveniles' uproar

Notes serving as reminders thus far,

To sit sideways on a vespa

Knowing truths never been as great,

As laughing and falling off the bed

Amongst them, existence of invisibility

Had never been a reality

Until the involvement of that signboard,

And ignoring the owner of a tagboard

How much they mean to her,

Would never compare to any diamonds or pearls

Everything they've made her smile for,

Priceless in comparison to any Christian Dior

They are her strength, her friends,

And they are forever her gems

-- originally dated 17/8/06

Childhood

in a few weeks' time, blk 119 bedok north rd will juz cease to be a memory. the 4-room apartment will be sold off and my nyai will come back n live in my house instead. i may not have lived there like my cuzzins after my yayi passed away. i guess for those 2 sisters, its even worse as the attachment to dat house is even greater after staying there for 2 yrs with her.

children nowadays go to school as early as 1 1/2 yrs of age. playgroups, montessori... juz wat else do they lack of? childhood.

growing up in a grp of 5 in dat house was like a free playgroup. there we were, my bro, me n my younger sis along wif the siblings cuzzins of ours, constantly playing n watching tv. my bro was the only guy, n since he was the eldest among us, he sort of bullied the rest of us.

• wen we played "masak-masak" with the cooking utensils toys, he made us serve him as he was our "boss". n he'd criticise whoever had the "worst cooking", wic often, was always his first younger sis as the 2nd one was "too young to cook".

• wen i was curious bout sesame street n wanted to watch on channel 12 (dat time there wasnt anything like kids central), he snatched away the remote control n switched to G.I.Joe, wic bcoz of dat, i cld never appreciate dat cartoon till now. n also y i never really knew the characters and songs from sesame street and barney.

• he'd "organise" our 50m sprints along the corridor with him having the biggest advantage coz he'd position himself in the middle so dat he had the biggest space to run. the rest of us had to endure certain detours coz there's wat u call laundries and plant pots at the sides. n not even once he lost to any of us. n my youngest sister wld always be trailing behind, to the extent of being the guinea pig to be scolded by the irritated neighbours coz the rest of us had already passed by then.

• wen i wanted to play "masak-masak" on my own without the other sidekicks, he ordered dat i keep the toys. instead he took out his whole army set of figurines n made me take the soldiers. only the unarmed soldiers. n he took the army tanks n other armed soldiers. before i even figured out how to play dat, he shot all my soldiers dead.

• after our "mengaji" classes, my bro would lead us to the nearest playground. the gals (inc me) wld take off our tudungs, pull up our kain-s and run towards the playground together with the other boys of the block. then we'd play hide-n-seek (wic is dumb lah coz u so can see wer whoever was) n the chasing game ("kejar-kejar") wic was the favourite. my grandma wld end up screaming at us from the 6th floor to go home n all of us got caned after dat.

• he created the fact dat the elder ones had the bigger say than the younger one. he got to be the best cartoon charaters. he was "fire" in captain planet and since my elder cuzzin took "wind", i had to be contented with "water". her sister had to accept reluctantly she was "earth" and my sister... "kau amik heart sudah." for ninja turtles, i was happy being "donatello" coz he was the smartest one anw (ehem!) n while there's only 4 turtles, my sister... "kau amik april sudah." sumhow now then i feel for her. she was like the "belen-belen".

it was juz those days that wld always make me smile everytime i passed by that area. the days wen "aksi mat yoyo" instead of "hi5" filled our lives, wen i knew more super marvel heroes than the cute carebears; spiderman, x-men, ironman (wic only captured the interest of my bro), fantastic 4...

i looked around under the blocks of flats of singapore. its very rare to see such happy times that the kids enjoy nowadays. those left playing are closely supervised by their parents or maids while those who werent... well, many (not all) do not seem to balance between schwork and playtime well. wic was wat childhood was bout in the 90's. fun with responsibility. at least, for my family i guess. n for many others too.

i'd never knew wat i've learnt from having these memories until i grew up. i've learnt to share, i've learnt to be contented with not having everything dat i wanted, i've learnt dat a drawn hopskotch, chasing games, "zero-point", 5 stones and others were more fun than the most expensive toys... i've learnt dat many many things can never be bought... lessons of life in a certain 6th floor unit of blk 119 bedok north rd.

i'll probably cry wen the keys get handed over to the new owner. :p

entry dedicated to: shahril, siti, mila and kai

-- originally dated 25/7/06

A Guide On How To Become A Bimbo

1. twist or fracture your wrist by sitting on ur own hand.

2. take a cab to a destination where the cab fare will cost you $2.40.

3. lug ur heavy laptop to sch (or anywer else) and forget about bringing the adapter or battery (do dis twice pls!)

4. trip in the most clumsiest fashion, face flat, in front of a gd-looking guy, a junior to be exact.

5. insist on pushing the door wen it clearly states, "PULL".

6. set up a group wif a sec sch-ish stupid name and ensure the members consist of overaged gals.

7. print the how-to-change-passwd manual, and be proud of it.

8. install and use msn messenger yrs after everyone else has it and show off dat u have a display pic.

9. coo while reporting strength to ur mum wen u reach sch, finish class, gg for lunch, setting off from sch.......

10. have ur backpack stuck in between train doors in an empty carriage.

11. tell ur prospective bf dat the only thing u noe bout soccer is dat there are 10 men in the team.

12. depend on ur frenz to open ur canned drinks for u.

13. be 100% unaware dat there is ice-skating in singapore.

14. give ur soft-toys or pillows dat u sleep wif stupid names like fifi and bebe.

15. send a mushy msg meant for ur bf to ur father whom u are on ur way fetching.

16. type an sms talking bout a particular person, mention the name in it and send the msg to the person himself.

ps: dis entry is based on the writer's personal encounters and her frenz'. no bimbos have been harmed in the making of dis entry.

-- originally dated 28/3/06

Welcome!!

For my readers of my Friendster blog,

I would like to say a BIG BIG HIII to all of you.

I think this blog will be easier to go to and also comment.

Feel free to say your opinions!

P.s: I will be moving some memorable entries from the Friendster blog to here. See ya all!!