Bohemia Bunny

The Funnerology Principle

Day 1 with the Scooba

This is the Scooba. It is a big and heavy blue thing that vacuums, cleans and dries your floor.

I set it loose on my kitchen floor and watched it slowly circle around, trying to get a grip on this area, before zipping off in one direction to find the edge.

This is how it navigates edges and corners:

Yes, it’s quite noisy – you expect most vacuums to be.

I left it to run while I wrote this post (ah, the wonders of technology) and it seems to have done a thorough job. It won’t stop till the water tank or battery is empty. Since my kitchen is fairly small, it’s going to go on for a while yet, I think.

Hooray for robots, our uncomplaining slaves that free us from the drudgery of housework!

Look, mummy!

Look at me, mummy!
I’ve been at work for a year!
Mummy do you remember
You were so worried I wouldn’t have a
Job to go back to?
Because who wants a teacher who
Can barely speak above a whisper?
Thank goodness my voice got better
And I’ve been at work a whole year.

Look at me, mummy!
I’m doing Tae Bo!
Angrily punching invisible assholes!
Remember there was a time when
I could barely even stand
Because my blood just couldn’t send
Enough oxygen to my brain,
And I would faint
If I got up too fast
Good thing that didn’t last.

Look at me, mummy!
A hundred bucks’ worth of sushi!
All sitting in my tummy!
Surprising how quickly your stomach learns
To stop going into reverse
Every time some food drops in.
Chemo messes up everything.

Look at me, mummy!
My hair’s so pretty now!
People stare and say wow
At my soft fluffy curls
That means a lot to a girl.
Because one year ago, the stares
Were targeted at my lack of hair.
A pink bandanna, screaming loud
“Underneath this I’m really bald!”
But the staring made me stronger inside
It taught me how to walk with pride
Because what can gazes do to you
They only mean something if you let them through.

So look at me mummy, look at me now
We made it through, knew we would somehow
Find a way through all the fear and the pain
And learn to enjoy our lives again.
So don’t cry mummy, don’t cry no more
Everything’s the way it was before
I’m alive because you paid the price
Thank you for giving me life – twice.

A tale of two receipts

There are 2 receipts I keep in my wallet. They’re POSB ATM receipts, because I’m one of those people who enjoys keepsakes.

The older receipt is dated19th June 2003, from the Siglap branch. I have $28.37 left in my savings account after withdrawing 20 dollars.

The newer receipt is dated 6th August 2010, from Novena Square 2. I have $9210.29 left in my savings account after withdrawing 80 dollars.

These receipts represent the low and high points of my financial life ever since I started JC. It’s taken me this long to hit such a high point, and it’s not even a 5-digit sum. *pouts*

Anyway I’ve since moved the money out to somewhere more secure, so I no longer have $9k sitting around tempting me.

I keep the old receipt around because I never want to forget what it was like to have so little, and having to call home to my parents for “reinforcements”, as an ex used to put it.

I’ll keep the new one because I know what it took to inflate my account to such awesome figures. It was the result of a lot of hard work, stress and sacrifice, and I earned it fair and square.

By the end of the year I’m hoping to be able to keep another receipt – indicating a solid 5-figure sum sitting pretty in my savings account.

Vagabond

God, what a week. From Monday to Sunday, I have honestly not reached home before midnight, not gone to sleep before 2am.

Monday through Wednesday I was at training, so I slept on the office floor after we were dismissed at 2am.

Wednesday night, I somehow ended up gazing at stars from a cement floor in the vicinity of Joo Chiat.

Thursday night, I watched Inception and cabbed home from Cathay after the night showing.

Friday night, I had beers and made friends with some American students after attending the Night Festival.

Saturday night, I had more beers and played Truth or Dare with people whose truths are worth hearing.

Sunday night, I got rained on while sitting on the rooftop of the Esplanade and drinking lemon barley – no more beer money.

I have NETSed my taxi fares so many times, I’ll be rather upset if I don’t win their lucky draw contest.

I have massive eyebags and no regrets.

To-do list: Play, 2010

  1. Buy a Lomo Fisheye 2
  2. Run around the Marina Barrage area with my Lomo
  3. Go to the zoo with my Lomo and take funny animal pictures
  4. Stay awake an entire night and take surreal nighttime photos
  5. Bring Lomo to work and take pictures of kids
  6. Go to Universal Studios when the BSG rides reopen and finish that dare
  7. Go to the Jurong West waterpark
  8. Finish my DVD queue of 25 movies by year-end
  9. Buy or obtain a TV so that I can play Okami and Bully on my PS2
  10. Revisit Harvest Moon, if I can put up with the loading lag
  11. Learn basic chords on acoustic guitar
  12. Learn up Black Parade, This Love, Starlight on bass guitar
  13. Read Peter and Max
  14. Go sing my heart out at karaoke
  15. Watch at least 2 musical performances this year

Addiction

Don’t lie. I’m a psychology student, I know what addiction looks like.

The waiting, the high, the comedown.

The self-harming behaviours that you know, rationally, are bad for you.

Google, Facebook, blog-stalking. These are the weapons of your destruction.

A picture of you and her when she is not me, detonates with the force of one broken heart.

These are the weapons of our destruction.

Because the bliss of ignorance is worse than the pain of information.

Information cuts in gashes, sharply defined edges of who I am and who you are not.

These cuts will heal.

Ignorance, on the other hand, is a piano dropping in slow motion.

When realization hits, it will crush me.

Information is knowledge. Knowledge is power.

And I guess you always knew I would choose power over you.

If I could travel back in time…

… I would tell my 1-year-old self that she is a very lucky baby.

… I would tell my 3-year-old self that she is about to meet the only other person on earth who knows what it’s like to grow up in my family.

… I would tell my 6-year-old self not to swing round the pole in the backyard, because I might fall and split my head.

… I would tell my 9-year-old self that teachers are human too, and are not above taking me down a notch or two.

… I would tell my 12-year-old self to stand up straight.

… I would tell my 15-year-old self that boys are also, sometimes, scared of girls.

… I would tell my 16-year-old self that “hey you, I mean me, I mean… ah, fuggedit, go take up the bass. Now. Even if you have to beg Mummy and Daddy for it.”

… I would tell my 17-year-old self that most boys aren’t worth the effort you put into impressing them.

… I would tell my 18-year-old self to believe in love.

… I would tell my 19-year-old self to remember this moment of triumph as she held her results slip.

… I would tell my 20-year-old self that decent boys will tell you how they feel, even if they feel nothing for you.

… I would tell my 21-year-old self that leaving someone is being cruel to be kind.

… I would tell my 22-year-old self that music will return the love you give it, so love it.

… I would tell my 23-year-old self to buy health insurance.

… I would tell my 24-year-old self that one day not too far away, I’ll look back and have a great story to tell.

… I would tell my 25-year-old self that you never forget how to love.

I have a happy mouth

After a lapse of like 2 years, I finally made an appointment to see a dentist. I am a lazy person who lives in one of the most convenient neighbourhoods in Singapore, so my dentist is just down the hill, next to my GP clinic. I thought appointment slots would be full but they weren’t, so I was able to get a good slot right before lunchtime.

I was a bit late because I wanted to eat and brush my teeth first. I showed up at 11.40am for my 11.30am appointment, but the dentist was very quick and everything was done very efficiently – I left half an hour later. And I was totally happy and not in any pain or discomfort! Old friends will tell you that I’ve had a fear of getting my teeth cleaned, ever since a very traumatic and bloody experience with the school dental nurse in Form 1 when I was 13. But today’s experience was perfectly pleasant and even though I kept checking for traces of blood when I rinsed out my mouth, I didn’t see anything! Except a remnant of wholemeal bread from breakfast (ew). I always used to think that scaling meant a lot of pain and blood, but apparently that’s not the case.

All in all, the session cost me $82 including GST and a bottle of mouthwash. Cleaning and polishing cost $65 and there wasn’t a consultation fee. The dentist did tell me that my lower right wisdom tooth was half out, but it’s not causing me any pain and I hope it stays right where it is. I am now the owner of a very clean and happy plaque-free mouth. More people should have experiences like mine, so that they can break their phobia of dentists.

Jawdrop.

Sunday morning as I’m heading out to work, I see this parked by the roadside near the kopitiam.

I was rendered speechless by the sight of such a fine specimen, right here in my neighbourhood. I’m not a car enthusiast. I’m just a car pervert. There are only 2 things that matter to me when it comes to cars, and these are colour and design. Engine capacity, top speed, wheelbase, yadda-yadda… not my thing. I’m purely visual. And this was as close to perfection as I’ve ever been.

Glossy, red, and just sitting right there. And I didn’t take a picture then. But later as I was at the bus stop, it showed up at the Shell station for a refuel. When lightning strikes twice, you’d better take it as a sign. So here it is. The picture doesn’t do it justice. It doesn’t adequately capture the awe I felt, standing face-to-face in front of something as beautiful as this. It’s like meeting a celebrity at the kopitiam.

And it’s really just the aesthetics, not power, not cost, not prestige. I don’t really like Lamborghinis all that much – the shape doesn’t appeal to me, even if it is more aerodynamic or whatever (that comes under yadda-yadda anyway). Pure unmitigated car perving. Great way to start the week.

Partner Preferences, revisited

Take a look back at this old post from 3 years ago. Funny how most things haven’t changed at all, but then they’re all in the past anyway. I think, 3 years and another relationship on, it’s time to build another list. And it’s going to be terribly different – instead of focusing on the dude’s circumstances (which can be highly variable and subject to change anyway), it makes more sense to look at his personality.

  1. I have still only ever dated Chinese guys. I just like the way they look, even if they have single eyelids and flat noses.
  2. I have still only ever dated eldest children. That’s not a statistical surprise – think about it, the proportion of eldest/only children in the population for my generation must be close to 50%. Hypothetical example: Let’s say 50% of kids in a population are eldest or only children, 40% are second children (whose elder sibling is in the previous 50%), 7% are third children (with elder siblings in the preceding 90%) and the remaining 3% are fourth or subsequent children. Okay so my numbers may be a bit exaggerated, but you see how it goes? I don’t filter prospects by birth order, so this eldest kid streak of mine is probably just serendipity, and due to the fact that as an eldest child myself, there are parallels in personality that contribute to compatibility.
  3. Still have an overwhelming preference for younger guys, although it’s not on purpose. I’m not a cougar in the making, I swear! Age just isn’t an issue to me, and I don’t seek out older guys to take care of me or compensate for nonexistent daddy issues. I’m not looking to be someone’s replacement mum either. I’ve had enough of nagging and picking up after guys. I want to act my age for once.
  4. Nonreligious guys preferred. And I would actually prefer a lapsed/fallen/backslider/recovering/ex-Christian to someone who was a free thinker all along. Reason being, for them to have left their faith, there was thinking involved. A conscious choice was made. They’re not likely to go back, not without a really good reason. Also, it implies the presence of a somewhat logical brain.
  5. Nonsmokers. Without exception. I went on a date with a smoker once. That was the first and last time. Look, I know smokers aren’t evil. I’d be okay with them as friends. But constantly being around someone who carried lingering smoke on their clothes, and the accompanying fetid breath… no thanks.
  6. Good English, which also implies being literate. My litmus test – Neil Gaiman. They don’t necessarily have to have read him, but as long as they are capable of reading, understanding and APPRECIATING The Sandman and American Gods, they pass. I am a Gaiman fangirl and I make no apologies. The alternative is to use the Harry Potter series as my litmus test, but I think that would let in slightly more immature minds instead. They have to know the difference between “its” and “it’s”, even if they slip up sometimes. Gahd knows that while my written English is nearly perfect, my spoken English causes mirth and merriment.
  7. Animal lover. Fish are not pets. Dog, cat, rabbit, heck, even a parrot, yes. Hamsters… I’m tempted to say no, since I don’t really have much of a relationship with AdvoHam. But having to clean up after something, dealing with it making noise and pestering you for attention, paying enormous vet bills… that’s all good practice for the future.
  8. Dangerous. Not the criminally dangerous sort. But a risk-taker is always welcome in my sedate life. I’m not one for risks myself, but I’ll happily join in on the fun. Fast cars, extreme sports, taking tables that have already been reserved with tissue packets – you lead, I’ll follow.
  9. Must have a glamorous job! Hahahaha. Something that’s more interesting than “I work in an office and push papers around”. I don’t care if the papers you push around are worth millions. Tell me if your work excites you, makes you feel alive, motivates you to get up in the morning.
  10. Passionate about his dreams. Because I am, and I need someone who understands why. If you can’t share your passion with the one you love – then what good is the relationship? They don’t have to be directly involved in it, as long as they really, truly understand the high that I get from a good day at work. And they have to demonstrate that burning passion for something they really enjoy, because I will not settle for someone who settles.
  11. Neat, tidy, clean, capable of cleaning up after himself. Without being nagged. Trust me, the fulfilment of this criterion will save us both an enormous amount of emotional wear and tear.
  12. Decisive. I like being the girl in a relationship and delegating decision-making, but if you pass up the chance to decide, I WILL make a decision. Fast. With little consideration for your feelings, because you said you were fine with anything. So, either be a man and step up, or shut your whining when I take over.
  13. Must have seen and appreciated Monty Python. Because it’s clever and funny and humour is the mark of a sophisticate.