Two of Us


When I saw her, I was rather taken aback by her demeanour. She had always struck me as the strong, dependable type, able to execute whatever actions that needed to be done in order for things to progress, no matter how hard it is.

But now, she was visibly unhappy, her eyes often lacking that spark – be it laughing or determined – that I had grown used to.

And as we sat in that bustling eating place, it all tumbled out. How he was not making enough effort in the relationship, how she felt she had changed ever since her move from Singapore, how she had broken down and cried many times despite herself, how he was insensitive to her needs and feelings, how he chosen to run instead of trying to make it all work out.

And I wondered, why?

She clearly deserved better, and yet she was struggling to keep the thin fabric of love from unravelling. Was her effort in vain? Only time would tell.

But one thing is clear, this is not supposed to be the way it is. Young love should be free and full of joy and passion, not full of questions and doubt and incriminations.

There was nothing I could do but to give her a hug and wish her well as she went along her way, a path she had clearly chosen for herself.


Is marriage a means of pledging commitment or a noose around one’s neck? Perhaps it all boils down to a stark difference in perception.

An engagement could be a means to the end, a culmination of decisions and actions. But that is only if the two parties involved have the same ideas on what the term engagement means, and how long the journey would take.

Obviously, it does not bode well when one party envisions tying the knot in the near future while the other is thinking of taking it slow and easy, with no intention of kickstarting the planning process, with no sign of the ring that would signify a change in status.

Is it so hard to communicate then? To exchange ideas and opinions?

Because when two have such differing views, the idea of marriage becomes a stone that weighs your every step, preventing you for exploring the playground beyond your shared world.


What is it about love that makes fools out of you and I?

In that case, my old friend Nise must be an ecstatic fool since she has just received a huge rock on her finger. Congratulations to her and Joe, her studly macho army man! Knowing what they have gone through to be together, it’s only fitting that their story has a fairy tale ending.

Health Goddess

The Real Run


Now that our grand plans for the Shape Run has fallen through and we were rejected by the organisers (too many runners, safety reasons yada yada), Popartgirl is suggesting that we go for the New Balance Real Run instead.

Now, Popartgirl is a runner. She enjoys pounding on the treadmill and monitoring her heartrate and stuff like that. I’m not quite that sort of person. I like running outdoors but lack the will to do so after work or on weekends. It takes only 15 minutes for me to get bored of running on the treadmill. So I am not quite the runner as she is.

Okay, my point is, I am scared of trying out for the Real Run. Terrified. Running 10km on flat land is one thing, running 10km on sand and trail is another. It’s probably going to end up being the longest hour(s) of my life, all over again. Plus, there will be all these men and hardcore competitors out there whizzing past me and making me feel all tiny and insignificant.

But I feel like going for it, just for the heck of it. Just so I can say, I did this. Even if I was miserable throughout half the race. Afterall, memories are always sweeter than the experience itself.

Should I?

The organised chaos

Driving Miss yAnnie

Last week, I was tired, distressed and frustrated.
This week, I am feeling rested and calmer.

Choir was rather inspiring on Saturday, barring the Siglap Idol segment. I’ve always been terrified of singing in a tiny group to people whom I know will be judging, and I always will. That feeling of adrenaline, of my heartbeat accelerating and my breathing getting more and more shallow – I can’t seem to lose it. Is it because I was insecure about the way I sound when compared to the rest of the group? Is it because singing, then, became something of a stress trigger and not an enjoyable activity?

Maybe I will never find out. But kudos to my brudder Terr, who has been working his ass out and who has been doing such a great job. To cajole more than 30 people, most of them working adults, into producing the correct type of sound and emoting musically is a tough job that not many can handle. To date, not many conductors in the choir has succeeded. And he has.

I had my fifth (?) driving lesson today. It’s tremendous fun although my instructor thinks I am quite the hooligan. Last week, I failed to notice the markings on the road and almost didn’t stop at a T-junction in time till he hollered “stop STOP!” Then, I was so busy talking to him (he is quite the chatterbox) that I didn’t see the hump ahead until he fairly shouted, “Hump hump HUMP!” As we bounced across the hump in an undignified manner, he clutched at his seat and muttered to himself, “Aiyoh.”

Today, I made a right turn at a busy T-junction (I am beginning to sense a pattern here) and almost collided into the oncoming traffic because I over-steered. He had to lean over, grab at the steering wheel and said, “Let go let go LET GO!”

And after each of these endeavours, I would stick out my tongue and grin.

Oh, driving is such fun!

I can’t wait to pass my test and drive my pals’ cars (I can so see vk volunteering his wifey). Right, pals? You know who you are. Heh.

[Let’s play tag! ]

Arts & Entertainment

Chasing Cars

Snow Patrol is brilliant.
Simple, gut-wrenching lyrics with catchy, emotional melodies that go straight to the core of your being.

When the boyfriend told me about the song accompanying a particular scene in the finale of Grey’s Anatomy, I teared, even though I don’t follow the show.

Death is never an easy subject for me and suddenly, it occurred to me that if he were no longer around, if my family members were to leave me, my heart would break into a million pieces and never be whole again. I simply cannot, cannot do without them.

And so, here it is, that heartbreaking scene in the show.

[Let’s play tag! , , ]

The organised chaos

Burnt out

There is nothing wrong, everything is just flowing along.

But I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date with my best friend, my cousin and the boyfriend. I don’t have time to get a hair cut. Because of the perpetual afternoon shifts, I’m just living a life of waking up, reading papers and then going to work. I haven’t been to the gym for a while although the pulse of the music is throbbing in my brain. I feel like a piece of driftwood, aimless and drowning. I need some me time, to have an entire day of my own with no responsibility, no exhaustion.

Time is flying by but I feel as if I am standing still, stuck in a vacuous land with no air to breathe, where glass walls show people strolling by me but they can’t see me, they move on without me as I stay rooted in one spot, trying to surface, to feed my burning lungs, to scream for them to look at me and notice me.

I need a break and I need it fast.

I want the choir to do well, and to reach there, we need to spend time and effort. It’s draining me, and yet it enriches me when we fall neatly along into the bar lines, into the passages. But it’s trying my patience, it frays my nerves into little bits and pieces that float into the air when the arid wind blows. I stomp my feet in annoyance, clench my fists in anger but I stop short of letting my voice out of my throat.

And I detest you, you, you and wish either you were gone or I was.

We want so many things in our lives and yet the things that we really need are seemingly unreachable. A spanner in the works, that’s all it takes.

Note to self: KT Tunstall, however lyrical or emotive, is not a good choice of music when one is feeling down. Can you help me go?

Arts & Entertainment

Robert Doisneau and that kiss


Who could ever forget Robert Doisneau’s famous photo of a couple kissing in the streets of Paris, nonchalantly ignoring the steady stream of people milling around them?

It’s inspired many couples to try and capture the same moment, and been replicated in movies over and over again. But why the fascination with a photo that has been declared to be a posed, rather than the previously-thought spontaneous, moment?

Maybe it’s the romantic idealism in us. We all want to be believe that our love is passionate and that we can be just like that couple caught in that moment, transcending time and cultures, and lasting a long, long time.

Anway, catch that print at the A L’Imparfait de l’Objectif by Robert Doisneau exhibition that is happening at the Alliance Francaise, and also the Early works by Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibition held at The Arts House this month. Cartier-Bresson is widely considered as the father of photojournalism and has inspired many a famous photographer.

More details can be found here.

Little Miss Shopaholic

Topshop vintage-style shoes


I really love the shoes from Topshop this current season.

Fashionable, ladylike, cute, whimsical, versatile, colourful – they are all calling out my name. Loudly. The sad thing is, Topshop shoes are not meant for petite girls like me who have small shoe sizes (UK2.5, Euro 35) so the only thing I can do is to look longingly and mournfully at them each and every time I step into the store.

I must say, I am really impressed with Topshop this season. They have a wide range of rather trendy vintage-style outfits which are relatively inexpensive, when compared to the real vintage wear. Plus, they also have stuff which are for the budget-minded (ie. moi) which are well-made threads that are none too shabby.

Right now, there is a sale going on at Topshop in conjunction with the Great Singapore Sale so be sure to grab some of these lovelies while you are there!