Creating Memories

To be absolutely frank,
I’ve never really understood Christmas.

To me it was just another holiday.
A chance I got to wear pretty clothes, oggle at decorations, and buy lots and lots of stuff however random they may be.

It’s the same with Lunar New Year.
Just another holiday where I get to buy, eat, shop and be able to openly be a general nutjob that I am always secretly tucking away behind the mask of being a “Grown Up” tee hee

What 2010 has done was to reaffirm how much more grown up I really am.

I guess it’s quite normal for one to say we dont really realize how much older we are, or how much older everyone around us have grown.

I received the scare of my life in the later part of this year,
And I lost a few family members on the earlier portion of the year.
Though they left much younger than most of us would anticipate.
They left to be in a better place, with no suffering, no pain.
We know nothing lasts forever.
It just takes a while longer for us, the living to accept it.

Memories are strange things.
They seem to fail at the simplest tasks, like remembering what you had for lunch 2 days ago.
But goes into hyper drive on the smallest details of things you did a million and half years ago.
The emotions of what happened that specific day relived so vividly in your memory that it seems to have transported you back in time, to that special moment, to touch, see, feel, live all over again.
Feelings that were trapped deep within your soul all unleashed, raw emotion in full force.

So while 2010 hasn’t exactly been the most fruitful of the years I’ve come to pass.
2010 has taught me invaluable lessons in my life.

That I’m never too old to enjoy the simplest childhood pleasures.
That I’m never young long enough to not withstand the heartaches of adulthood.

These days Christmases, New Years and whatever holidays that fall in between are more than just excuses for shopping sprees, pig out sessions and drink fests.

These days, they are about creating beautiful, meaningful memories.
So that in time when required.
I can return to my memory vault to relive this moment all over again.

 

Working With The Devil

I remember watching “The Devil Wears Prada” the Sunday before I started on my new job as a PA.

I have to admit though, having just left the previous work place working under the said Devil – albeit less glamorous, no fabulous Prada suits and the Devil more clinically insane than words can describe, watching that movie probably didn’t pacify my fear.

But working with the new boss was amazing.
I personally call her The Angel that wears YSL (she has this really fabulous pair of YSL pumps with furry leopard printed heels. Very unnecessary in Singapore’s wet rainy weather but it looks FAB).

Of course with any working environment, we have our hits and misses, ups and downs but it’s all solely work related, nothing personal and definitely nothing that would be close to the mental carnage the Clinically Insane Devil gave me previously.

I remember how I use to tell my friends about my work and it never fails to bring me to tears every single time.
Most of them don’t really understand why it gets to me or why I would let her get under my skin so badly because to them it’s only work right?

Well not quite.

I guess there are people out there who are able to take it as it is, one ear in, the other ear out. I’m not like these people.
I wish I was, but I always take things on a personal level.
If something screws up within what I do, then I don’t blame others, I take it on myself.
And the worst part about it all, is that the line between what is professional and personal becomes blurry in the attacks that the Clinically Insane throws out.
She’ll start off with why I didn’t double check figures, then say I wasn’t using my brain, and at the end of it, it’ll be that my parents spoil me too much, i was too young, immature, and generally a waste of space and that I should go home and waste away.

So everyday and I do mean everyday (I work 7 days a week) for 2.5 years I withstood the same mental abuse day in day out.

I didn’t really realize it, but I was suffering from early stages of depression.
I’ll cry everyday before I sleep, just after I switch off the lights so my parents don’t see it.
I dread waking up, sometimes I wake up crying. Most times I just can’t sleep in general without having nightmares.
Sometimes I dream about stabbing her, and wake up feeling great. And that was scarier than having nightmares of her screaming at me.
I lost alot of weight, I went in with a healthy weight of 50, and by the time I left, I was 41kilos.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, can’t do anything but cry and generally feel like the world was against me.
When friends ask me out I’ll find an excuse to not go out because I feel like I didn’t belong and that I should take The Devil’s advice and waste away somewhere.

I had every intention of leaving without a job so I could retain my sanity. But thankfully, help came in the way of a referral and after a 2 rounds of interviews on the same day. I got another job.

It’s been 5 years since then, and while I think self imposed memory block of The Clinically Insane has helped me laugh it off, I don’t think the mental abuse is something that can be shrugged off.

Working itself is not fun, if it was it won’t be called working.
So if a friend rants to you about work, don’t use the one for all sentence “There’ll always be ppl like that everywhere”
We know that already, we just need to rant to keep our sanity.

So give us that much.

 

Tumbling Tumbling

Ok maybe not

Tumblr doesnt do comments.. whatever back to WordPress it is

I’m Tumblring!

Catch me http://thisisvanna.tumblr.com/

Power Of Fangirls

Update
Ok so I gave up and while reading some rather unhappy fan comments on the organizer’s facebook page, I figured hey, it’s a tough job trying to please everyone.
I was definitely appreciative even though I didn’t get the tickets.
So I dropped them an email just to express my thanks, and almost immediately they replied with a “don’t give up yet!”

It was hilarious and very touching really that they would reply to insignificant ppl like me.
So I didn’t, I tried again.
Guess what?
I got myself some Category A near front row tickets!
I’m $300 poorer but hey, I’m definitely a happy fangirl.
***

I guess if you know me, you’ll know I’m quite a big kpop fan.
And when there are opportunities, I would gladly part with my money to go see some random pretty group prance around on stage singing really catchy songs (or in some cases, attempt to sing some really catchy songs).

So lately one of the biggest k pop band decides to drop by our side of the world.
And since I pretty much fancy their every single pore, I gladly parked myself in front of the internet 45 mins before the stated order time.
45 mins, I was pretty sure I had more than enough time.

Self assurance pretty much.
Which is how I failed to win my battle and absolutely lost my war.

I never had a chance, seriously it was nothing short of a miracle if I even managed to log in much less book a ticket.

The power of fangirls is beyond what I thought I understood.

So I didn’t get my tickets.
I am a tad disappointed to be honest.
But when then I’m fighting with a group that has 800,000 fans, I might actually have a better chance at winning the lottery than get a ticket.

LOL.

Now for one of my latest current fave song by the lovely trio I was attempting to buy tickets to.

This Year

On a random note, I can’t remember the password to log into my wordpress accounts.
No matter how many times I’ve login in previously, I can’t recall if my password was one or the other.
And they say having 3 million different passwords is good for protection.
It’s safe, damn right, when I can’t even break into my own.
***

I’m not one to dwell on the inevitable.
Sickness and death are both imminent that I am very much aware of.
Logic doesn’t always sing the same tune as emotions.

I’m on an emotional see-saw these past few weeks.
Happy then not so much.
Lately it’s just moving slightly on it’s pivot.
Neither going up nor really moving down.

A self induced emotional blackhole of sorts.

There’s a process of healing that comes after mourning.
Emptiness before acceptance.

I trust my life with God.
Sometimes I may not understand the plot.
But I do not doubt his plans.

Annoyed

Did a whole post on my iphone yesterday.
Not only was it not published, the draft is also no longer stored in my phone.

I don’t think I’m cut out for mobile blogging.

*Grumbles*

Style – Part Deux

Today I wore a long forgotten safari dress I bought for my previous working environment but found it to be too casual by itself and too thick and stuffy to be pairing it with a tailored jacket.

It has since been gathering dust in The Husband’s closet, yes I have taken control over the wall to wall closet in our room and yes I am slowly but surely taking over his.
What can a girl do?
I just really don’t have enough room to fit everything *snigger*

Anyway, I digress.

It’s good to pick out stuff you had a couple of months/years back and still be able to fit perfectly in it.
No unsightly bulges, nothing clinging to you for dear life.

And because my current working environment isn’t a stickler for professional tailored suits, I look somewhat professional (ie like my age that is) without being too dressy for the hot equatorial climate.

Personally I think I look best when I’m smart casual.
Jeans and tees make me look like I’m ten, especially with babyface, no one takes me seriously and I can’t really blame them.
Professional suits though can make me look like I’m trying too hard, or totally unapproachable when I don’t smile (which I’m generally okay with especially when it comes to deterring street marketers from asking me to buy insurance/new credit card/the new sliming product)

Yesterday, on a whim I decided to don skinny jeans, canvas shoes and a baggy tee to work.
Comfy but not exactly client facing ready and I look like a part timer.
All in by the end of the day, I felt less than $1 worth much less a million bucks.

Today, I feel better, alot better.
I might feel horrid after today’s hectic schedule
But at least I’m dress well.

Clothes really do make the man.
And it really does make the mood.