Arts & Entertainment, Werk

A dash of pink and black

!(imgcenter)http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2033/2538308206_0e2646d898_m.jpg(Oh keep me sane)!:http://www.flickr.com/photos/yannie/2538308206/
Almost four years since graduation, I realise that I have stopped decorating my workdesk. When I first started, I had cheery pictures of us in Hawaii and my nephew adorning the walls of my cubicle. These days, my desk is just that: a desk to aid my productivity so that I can bugger out of the office as quickly as possible.

But even then, a girl needs something to cheer her up when she is buried in work and when that antique Macintosh G3 machine throws a tantrum. My solution? A gorgeous poster of the new Sex and the City movie. I love the artwork – the elegant black and pink, the crystal-encrusted logo, her beautiful bustier dress, the air of class, girlishness and unbridled joy. It’s all marketing, of course, but my love for Carrie and SJP far exceeds my innate cynicism (which is exacerbated by the job, really).

I’ve got the soulful India.Arie song, The Heart of the Matter, on repeat mode now, the very song that drew my attention on the movie’s website and trailer. Thanks to the ed, a copy of the soundtrack landed on my desk and the combination of completing my work on time, the arrival of the weekend and the fact that I will be catching the most anticipated movie of the year soon really lifted my spirits.

Can’t wait to get to the cinema later to catch the movie with the girls. Happiness!

Oh, and I’ll be running my first 10km for the Sundown Marathon in 1.5 years since the 2006 Singapore Marathon before that. Wish me luck!

Werk

Buried, swamped, drowned

!(imgleft)http://farm1.static.flickr.com/96/214109901_b60b09f64f_m.jpg(Grumpy)!:http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimmyliew/214109901/
Whatever the word you pick, it describes me now.

Friday is D-day – DEADLINE – and I’m sinking in piles of work. I have never been the sort to bring work home. I absolutely abhor working at home and I like to draw the line very, very clearly. But these days, I find myself checking email and writing stories from scratch on Ingrid and it’s just driving me a tad insane. In fact, I suspect Monday blues and stress were the causes of my two nights of insomnia before I finally hit the bed like a bag of bricks last night.

Every morning this week, I had felt like throwing in the towel. Until Corrinne May sang this into my ear this morning en route to the office:
“I feel like a little girl
Trying to conquer the whole wide world
Everybody wants a piece of me
And I just don’t know where to turn
I’ve got work piled up to my head
All I wanna do is jump into bed
And wash away my troubles with lemonade..”

Replace “lemonade” with “teh-si” and that’s me she’s singing about!

And somehow, the fog lifted. I went into the office, had a bit of a chat with the colleagues and I felt happier. It really helps to work with people whom you can trust, rely on and have a laugh with when the times get bad. And when I was facing a huge gap in my story which I just could not plug despite spending an afternoon walking from shop to shop, it was Trevor who came to my rescue. He found the solution for me and as I heaved a sigh of relief, I realised that I needed to take a step back and relax.

This job is stressful, true, and the crazy expectations and fluctuating moods of my boss can make me mad. But I need to accept the bads and learn to see that for a job that I like and enjoy (most times), it really isn’t too bad.

I just need to stay focused till the next stretch is over – the wedding is done and the east end is ready – before thinking real hard about our business plan and turning a dream into reality. And then I can decide on my next move again.

The organised chaos, Wedding March

Mummy and Me

!(imgleft)http://farm1.static.flickr.com/106/280683199_b5f32eb570_m.jpg(Mummy and me)!:http://www.flickr.com/photos/yannie/280683199/

I always thought my mother is pretty zen about us getting married and flying the coop, since she had been surprisingly stoic and dry-eyed during the Sista’s wedding when I had expected her to be a blubbering mess. Afterall, Sista was the one Mummy had always been more preoccupied about. It’s not that she loved me any lesser, it’s just that her worry about Sista’s rebellious nature and health problems turned into additional maternal attention. So if her relief at seeing her problematic child married did not bring on the tears, I doubted that her other daughter – someone she never had to worry about – would be able turn the tap on.

Imagine, to my surprise then, when Mummy suddenly burst into tears yesterday morning. It couldn’t have happened at a more incongruous time – I was trying to swallow down my breakfast as quickly as possible because I was running late, she was all bubbly about the birthday present I had gotten her the night before. Seconds later, her exuberance turned into sobs.

In a wobbly voice, she told me that she was happy when Sista got married. While she is also happy that I had found my lifelong partner, she would also miss me greatly because I have been by her side for the past 27 years. Sista has always been flighty and independent, never a mummy’s girl. But I was different, she said, because I had never really left her side since the day I was born. No matter where I went, I would always return home to her. But from the day I marry the boyf, I would never be by her side again.

I suppose it’s strange that her little daughter – the one whose breakfast she makes everyday, whose messy room causes her to sigh and shake her head, and who never fails to bring her a present whenever she goes overseas – is no longer her baby. The house, which contains my clothes and clutter and is filled by my voice and pounding music, would be oddly silent and empty. My grumpy face would not greet her every morning and she wouldn’t have to deal with my leftovers anymore.

For a 61-year-old, that must be a lonely prospect, especially for someone who hasn’t had a partner to lean on for the past 21 years. Her children were all that she had to live for and now, we wouldn’t be reliant on her anymore.

I don’t know how to tell her that it’s okay, I have always been a Mummy’s girl and that’s not going to change. Hopefully, the Sista produces a bun soon to fill the gap left behind by us.

Everything Else

Champions, again

!(imgcenter)https://testing120181.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/manu.jpg(Yes!!)!

First half, sheer brilliance. Beautiful display of attacking football and smooth, flowing passing.
Second half, scrappy and crappy. Disjointed passing, lack of chemistry.
Extra-time, nerve-wrecking. Thank goodness Lady Luck was on their side.
Penalty shootout, amazing. Those you expected to perform, failed. Those you predicted would disappoint, scored. Bu thank goodness for Le Sulk and Edwin Van der Sar.

It was enough to secure the medal. Hurray for winning the Champions League! Hurray for the Double! Glory, glory Man United!

(The mood at Crab Shack was electrifying. And it was strange watching Skunk bounce around, hugging hot, sweaty strangers.)

Wedding March

iPod poetry

!(imgleft)http://farm1.static.flickr.com/16/23234474_8f1e2b5eec_m.jpg(Grooving to the iPod)!:http://flickr.com/photos/yannie/23234474/
Where once I used to worship the prose and poetry of the likes of Shakespeare, Christina Rossetti and the Bronte sisters, those books have all been abandoned as I pursue a life in modernity. They lie dusty, forgotten, neglected.

And whose words do I fall over fervently now? Those of Coldplay and Snow Patrol and Nada Surf and Muse and The Killers and Lifehouse and Belle and Sebastian and U2….you get the drift. It’s not very intellectual but hey, nobody can say that these wordsmiths are not accessible. I could go all high-brow and say I listen to Bob Dylan or Bruce Springsteen but I’m just not that kind of girl. Sorry. What really rocks my boat nowadays are emotive lyrics that make me put a song on repeat mode.

Like Coldplay’s “‘Til Kingdom Comes”:
Steal my heart and hold my tongue.
I feel my time, my time has come.
Let me in, unlock the door.
I’ve never felt this way before.

Sooo….it’s not Pulitzer Prize material. It doesn’t move mountains but it can certainly move me to tears. Alright, so I am a product of the popular culture. I love Martha Stewart Weddings magazine! And Sex and the City! And Nylon!

By the way, curating music for the wedding is really quite a bitch. Plowing through 22GB of music (that’s 12 days of non-stop hits for you) is not easy task and that’s not including his stash, which is probably double of mine. So many songs, too little time. My initial playlist could last me through three weddings, seriously. In the end, I decided to be hardhearted and CUT the list. Ouch. That really hurt.

But the one thing I have learned from this task is that you choose what you want to hear at the wedding and not what you think others would want to listen to. Heck, it’s my wedding, I’ll listen to The Cure if I want to.

I mean, it’s our wedding and we’ll listen to The Cure if we want to. We, ours, we, ours. I have got to remember that. The thought of sharing my ensuite bathroom and wardrobe and bed is just…..too much to bear. But I do love you much much, dearie!

Everything Else

Violet Hill

!(imgcenter)http://farm1.static.flickr.com/74/187282727_221935bd0e_m.jpg(Coldplay live in Singapore)!:http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimmyliew/187282727/

Check out Coldplay’s newest single, “Violet Hill”, streaming on their website! I can’t wait for their new album to be out on June 16. Watching them live was one of the best experiences I had in 2006. Watching them jam on stage with Travis back in 2002 (and catching No Doubt/The Cranberries the same year)…..PRICELESS!

Photo credit: the boyf