nuts for brains

goodbye

2010-08-31T11:59:00.000+08:00

This blog is now dead.

Voice of the Valley Girl: Hey y'all, guess who's back?

2010-08-24T23:48:00.004+08:00

Of course, it has to be none other than me, Village Girl A, otherwise known as the Voice of the Valley Girl (VotVG).

I've been gone for such a long time it feels almost like I made a space voyage to a new solar system somewhere and back. But. Please feel heartened to know that the jowls still remain - my one true beauty charm.

So where have I been? Like they (whoever "they" are) would tell you, I've been busy making a living. I've been selling socks. Socks like you never knew 'em. Pink ones, red ones, blue and pink ones, socks with cow patterns - everything and anything socks.

Socks are a mighty companion to have on cold rainy days when you have nobody else for company.

But lately, a niggling thought has been biting into the back of my head. Socks contribute to global warming, don't they? Like... how do I put this? I wear them? And heat emanates from my feet, innit? Then like... the foot smell causes a micro-nuclear reactorial (is there such a word?) reaction thingy and you have all these electrons bouncing off the yarn or polyester or whatever material you have going into your pair of socks and somehow, the energy is large enough to heat half a bowl of chicken soup.

I'm pretty sure Lady Gaga made a song about that. I'm pretty sure I'm not all that smart enough to make that up. Just like I can't make up the fact that Kentucky Fried Chicken comes from Kentucky or McDonald's comes from Old MacDonald's Farm.

So I'm feeling a bit guilty because that makes me an irresponsible entrepreneur. It's all about Vision2020, y'know? Gotta reduce the carbon footprint and all.

Anyway, I'm kinda forgetting what I was supposed to tell you. So yeah, socks. If you need them, you know where to find me. So well, yeah, screw global warming. Can't be thinking about saving the Earth all the damn time when you're going to bed with cold feet.

take another look

2010-08-24T23:36:00.002+08:00

I wish you would take another look at yourself in the mirror and realise that you are not ugly. You were never ugly. Make a smile, child, and realise that you are the most beautiful person in the world.

Pakistan in less than 24 hours

2010-08-21T23:22:00.002+08:00

Pakistan is not a good place to visit if you're expecting a place that is brimming with touristy hot spots. My glimpse of Pakistan, through my less than 24 hours' visit to Islamabad - which I suppose you could call our equivalent of Kuala Lumpur or Putrajaya - showed a Pakistan that was dusty, dreary and downright dull.

It is, after all, a poor country by our standards. Women were hardly seen in this country, which I was told by our hosts, where women are not seen and rarely heard. My observation (and his year-long one) may be greatly biased and flawed but then again, I am not writing to criticise but to only convey what I saw and heard in that short time span.

We spent the night at the Hotel Crown Plaza in Islamabad. A fairly decent place although it should be only three stars at most when you compare it to our own Crown Plaza. We arrived a after midnight and during then, we experienced electric outages thrice. Our hosts said it is normal there and happens on average about six times daily.

The drivers there follow no rules - except when it comes to the traffic light. As far as things go, honking seems to be the best way to get your way ahead on the road. Lines mean nothing to the drivers there. Motorcyclists usually wear helmets but the pillion riders don't. We had a lot of freaky moments on the road thanks to our daredevil driver and seriously, I don't want to know how high their road death toll is.

From morning to evening, we saw men sitting about on the grass by the roads. Some were sitting in the small patch of green that made up the road dividers. It's like they were having a picnic - without the picnic blanket and the basket. We don't know why they do that but we assumed that there must not be much for them to do.

Our hosts explained that in Islamabad, you can only find two kinds of people. The very rich and the very poor. The very poor were usually the servants of the very rich. Gender equality is very lopsided because apparently, many girls aren't required to go to school. Still, our hosts explained that Islamabad was a lot better than some other parts of Pakistan.

But seriously, is Pakistan really all that bad? Frankly, I don't know. I know that I wouldn't want to come there again. Men look at girls like me in strange ways. Maybe because I didn't wear the clothes that their women wear. I did wear a shawl to cover my chest area though. To avoid the men's stares although here, nobody would give my chest a second glance.

hello pakistan?

2010-08-17T19:48:00.002+08:00

My fourth month at my new company, my editor decides that I would go to Pakistan to witness Malaysia's handing over of a USD1 million aid for the flood victims. It's all very short notice. I only found out today - and the government being ever so efficient (you know I'm being sarcastic), the fax was only received today - and the flight is on Thursday morning.

I have no idea where in Pakistan I'll be going to. I don't know what the itinerary is like. All I know that it's gonna be a really short trip. I'll be back on Saturday morning.

I'm more concerned about dying in Pakistan. I don't know much about it except that it's poor, there's a war (possibly?) going on and maybe it's going to be tough looking for a public toilet. The government being the government didn't even tell me if I should wear boots and bring a winter jacket. Like I said, I really know nothing about Pakistan so if I sound like a bimbo then please help me God.

Tomorrow I'll be dropping in at the National Security Council in Putrajaya with my documents though so at least I'd get to ask some really important questions - stuff to bring, what to bring, etc.

My dad seems to be really pleased though. He thinks it's a sign that better things will happen to me at my workplace. Well, it's not exactly Disney Land but well, a different perspective might be just what the doctor ordered.

I don't feel all that excited yet. The prospect of getting on a plane always fails to perk me up (I hate plane rides) and this time, I won't even be getting on a commercial carrier. My flight's going to be courtesy of the Royal Air Force. I wonder what it's like? If it's going to be like in the movies where I'm strapped to a bench with a parachute on my back?

At least I'm not going to be alone in a really strange, but sad, country. One of the photographers will be there. And six others from three other publication.

And then I just remembered the other thing. I have to fast? Oh, yeesh. Damn. That doesn't sound good. At all.

me, the so-called mentor

2010-08-15T19:16:00.002+08:00

There's a lot of power in asking. When you need guidance, asking is the easiest way to get a little heads up in the right direction.

My dad used to say this to us kids all the time when we were younger: "Malu bertanya sesat jalan". Basically, the ones who are too scared to ask end up lost.

Asking is also a sure-fire way of getting you the answers to a lot of things in life. Want to know what your strengths and weaknesses are? Ask. Want to know where you stand in the progress chart? Ask. Want to be given more responsibilities? Just ask.

The beauty of asking is that it doesn't hurt to ask. In fact, it makes you look humble and eager to learn even.

And no matter how stupid your question may sound, at least you managed to find an answer to that niggling thing that has gotten your fancy or has made you confused.

So that's it. Ask.

hey, me

2010-08-11T23:29:00.002+08:00

I still bitch and whine like nobody's business.

I have a bad temper and it is a temper that I lose quite easily.

But I've stopped being such a crybaby.

Criticism doesn't hurt me so much these days.

I still sympathise with the underdog.

I care less about knowing where I stand.

I just want to read more books.

random posting

2010-08-08T16:53:00.000+08:00

I can't wait for the Bali trip. It's going to be so cool.

molesting turtles in Mabul

2010-07-27T10:35:00.000+08:00

I just got back from a trip to Mabul with a few friends and although the trip was so laden with drama, it was a nice trip that got my mind off the troubling things in my mind.

By the way, Mabul is an island in Sabah that is not too far off from the world-famous dive spots in Sipadan. It's an hour's ride from Semporna by speed boat.

We stayed at a simple shack - like a small long house made of wooden planks - called Scuba Jeff Sipadan. Jeff is the proprietor of Scuba Jeff. A local, though not of the Bajau community that inhabits the island, he made our stay as memorable as possible with his warmth and hospitality.

For example, he threw in a free underwater videography session fo us which would have cost us RM1,000 because he had achieved his "target" for the month.

At night, we were serenaded by Jeff and his small staff with songs played with the accompaniment of guitars.

For RM70 a night (including food, two snorkeling sessions and two-way boat transfers), we experienced the simple life on the island. Mornings were greeted with the sounds of lapping water and after breakfast, we'd don our snorkeling masks and flippers and jump into the sea which made up the "garden" surrounding Jeff's front porch.

Food was mostly fish with rice, with the fish being the catch of the day - anything that the Bajau fishermen caught and brought to Jeff's door (to sell, of course) will become dinner. We had simple meals. Curry fish, steamed fish, masak lemak fish with white rice, fried eggs and stir-fried vegetables. we also had plenty of hot tea to drink.

My only complaint would be the toilets. Although relatively clean, you really didn't want to think about where the waste went! And the water, pumped from a well on the island, was still a tad salty so brushing your teeth felt gross and no matter how much water you used, your hair still felt unwashed.

And the highlight of the trip was the Discovery Scuba Diving where I got to see and touch Richard, the three-legged (-finned?) Hawksbill turtle and the night snorkeling in front of our lodging because I got to see the sea creatures that were hidden in the morning. I saw a coral crab, some strange fish I can't name, a few types of Moray eels. I also got to see a thorny fish and a small lion fish! It was also exciting to have caught sight of a bandied sea snake about five feet long which Jeff chased off with a broom handle after snapping pics of it underwater.

You know, there's just too much to tell but maybe I'll come to Mabul again some day.

only you can stop the pain

2010-07-27T10:10:00.000+08:00

Some girls, they get trapped in a cycle of always wanting to please everyone. At the very least, the best they can do is to be diplomatic.

But how far should you go to keep the diplomacy?

Recently... a close friend of mine found herself in a compromising situation with a man she wasn't interested in. She, being diplomatic, decided the best course of matter was not to create a fuss when he, from flirting, moved on to holding her hand to stroking her hair.

After all, no big deal, right?

However, as the night dragged on it became clear that the man was not going to stop with something so tame as holding a girl's hand. He was also high on booze.

The worst case scenario didn't happen. I thank God for that. My friend was saved just in time but the pain and fear was already etched in her mind and heart.

I was perplexed. If she didn't like him, why didn't she say no?

She said she didn't want to cause a commotion because all her friends were there having fun. She was too scared to make a peep. She could only defend herself from his roaming hands in quiet shame.

That night, she went to bed crying.

Some friends were angry with what the man did and try to do to her. Some were just as mad at her for allowing the unwanted harassment to continue.

Shout if you have to, kick if you must - I told her. Better to face five minutes of embarrassment than to face a lifetime of regret. If you can't do all those, the least you could have done was to say no.

It's a lesson that we can learn from this. Not all men are keen on hurting us. Many of them, if you just say no, they will back off. It's only when you don't that you let them assume that you're fine with what they're doing. And really, it's not enough to fidget and put on an uncomfortable expression because it creates an impression that either you're being coy or it's an invitation for the man to try something else to see if it'd please you!

But say "no". That is the only way you can prevent unwanted attention to yourself. And don't ever for the sake of trying to look cool play along with something you don't like because if you end up at the short end of the straw, the only person who goes home crying to bed is you. Not me, not the man, not anybody else but you.

Let this be a lesson to us all.

the fall

2010-07-25T15:04:00.000+08:00

Do you know that saying? The one where if you say the same thing enough times, you'll believe it to be true?

But for me, I said sorry too many times that "sorry" doesn't feel like "sorry" anymore.

I've been called many things: Selfish, insensitive, childish, God knows what else.

You know what? I don't care. I've come to a point where I'm so desensitised, words can hurt me no more.

"I do everything for you. I do everything you asked me to. I changed because of you," he tells me.

"What have you done for me?"

Nothing really.

But I don't care.

I just want to carry on being selfish because I can. If being selfish means I lose a chunk of my heart that makes me feel pain, I will continue to stay this way.

Because I am only protecting myself.

Nobody will betray me again. Ever.

when you have parents like these...

2010-07-12T22:08:00.002+08:00

So, my parents seem to be mad at me. My mom is mad at me because my dad is mad at her. My dad is mad at me, I presume, is because I'm wearing shorts. In the house.

Taliban much?

And I would have been safe if he didn't call me out of my room to talk to me about "shopping" around for a bank that can give us the best rates for a house loan.

I'm sick and tired of always having to change into sweatpants every time I leave my room. I don't know why it's wrong to wear shorts in the house. Other people's daughters (who are also Malays) wear shorts in the house, OUTSIDE of the house and nobody gets grumpy.

I'm 26 and should be OLD ENOUGH to MAKE DECISIONS to wear shorts AT LEAST.

Unless he's being grumpy because I was asking questions about getting a bank loan. I have a month to make the 10 per cent down payment but my dad is being impatient about it. I told him I'd do it on Thursday when I have my day off but he feels it's a BIG DEAL that warrants taking a day off tomorrow to do this.

He doesn't understand that I am under probation still and that I am not eligible to take leave.

He doesn't understand that there are still enough days for me to get a bank loan without having to take leave IMMEDIATELY.

When you have a dad who doesn't acknowledge your job just because it's nothing like the kind of job he's had, you don't have to wonder far as to why I never bothered telling him that I even won an award because he'd be skeptical anyway.

As far as he's concerned, any success that I've had at work could be summed up with one thing: That I probably slept with the boss.

You know what? I wish. Because that would mean I'd be at assistant news editor level by now.

what it means to be a modern girl

2010-07-10T22:32:00.002+08:00

Being a modern girl means I do not get married at the age of 24, 25 or 26. It's also likely that I will not get married at 27 (which just so happens to be oh, next year).

I used to find the idea both horrifying and perplexing at the same time.

Horrifying because the idea of not getting married could possibly mean that I must be the biggest, most undesirable loser of a girl ever. Perplexing because I still can't figure out for the life of me how I could be the biggest, most undesirable loser of a girl ever.

Because I have a boyfriend, see, so unless he was an imaginary boyfriend sort of thing then it can't mean that I am all THAT bad. (But since it's Noel we're talking about, you would have known from reading the previous posts that we will never get married at all. Like, ever because he's Christian and I'm Muslim and Nik Aziz would throw a gasket if we held an illegal wedding on an island.)

But you know, it's funny that I think it's not too bad to be single after all. (Wait till I hit 30 though - I may just change my mind.)

After all, I have a bit of my own money and a bit of my adult freedom (what little freedom my parents and the police accord me, and yeah, living with parents SUCK sometimes) and I have fun doing the things only a single girl could do - which is a lot like what a lot of married people could do; only minus the responsibilities that come with having a husband and babies.

And it's good that I have this avenue - being single - so I can explore things on my own or with my girl friends, whom I believe are just as single as I am. (OK, technically, I am not single but since I'm not going to get married to Noel anyway, I might as well consider myself as being somewhat single.)

Besides, finding the right guy sucks so why waste my time?

The other day, I had tea and then dinner and then a discussion of sorts with the always smiling married couple I know - which are Irwan and Eda - and we were discussing about the difficulties of today's modern girls in acquiring a husband.

Irwan reckoned that with the unequal ratio of women to men (more women than there are enough men to go around) and the growing chasm between them - education, career, intelligence!! - it will continue to become more difficult for women to find a man of equal or higher standing.

Irwan said that this was because men today still struggle to fit in the role of the modern man - which is to accept that a woman can be just as good or better - while trying to maintain the traditional role of the patriarch at the same time.

It could also be a matter of the ego.

So because of these reasons, women lose out the more they advance in life.

I agreed with that but added that on the other side of the coin, although women today may be happier to settle with a lesser (usually younger and less successful) man because they reckon that they have the means to be the provider in the relationship, eventually this doesn't work out because it comes to a point when you realise that your other women friends have better partners who are, to be frank, more of a man than your own mate!

And what does it mean to be a man? Someone women can hope for to protect us and to provide us with all that we need. In today's context, the main thing should be financial security.

So one way or another, we - and I - can't win!

But the great thing about being 26 is that I know better now that what you want may not be necessarily what you need. I used to argue with myself that they can essentially be the same thing a lot of the time but I can now accept that what I want may not always be the best thing for me.

crap blog

2010-07-09T19:28:00.002+08:00

Ah, crap. I hate this blog.

reclusive thoughts

2010-06-30T12:40:00.002+08:00

We rarely talk about the future because it's something that he dislikes talking about. See, I have so many questions and he, no answers for them.

But we know and we agree that this too, shall end.

I try to pacify myself sometimes by adding up the negative thoughts because at moments like these, optimism only gets in the way of wanting to let go. So I surmise that he is too old for me and I deduce that maybe he doesn't have the financial capacity to support me nor even a family as I have no knowledge of any asset to his name let alone name the digits that make up his monthly income.

But these are shallow thoughts to pacify myself with the idea that it's OK, he's probably not good enough to grant me a better life.

Because the fact of the matter is that while he may not be able to guarantee me a life of luxury, he is the only person I've ever been with who has never, not even once, laughed in my face and mockingly told me, "You know I'm never going to marry you".

He says I am young and there are many more opportunities. I don't know.

He says he will be always there for me even when the time comes for us to part ways.

I doubt that.

When the time comes for him to be with somebody else, how can I ever expect him to be kind to me anymore? My existence will only be a nagging thorn in the side for him and the other person with whom he will share his heart with. And surely, the unspoken question, "Shouldn't you have moved on by now?", would linger above all of our heads, especially over mine, and I shall feel most like a pathetic creature, a parasite that deserves no space in his life.

But this is just me. My thoughts. My insecurities.

Sometimes, it's just easier to not care and to be as selfish as possible.

Our time is running out.

why kids are bleurgh

2010-06-19T18:57:00.000+08:00

Yeah. I know. I was a kid once. But the fact that I am no longer a kid now means that I am no longer bleurgh too.

You know, I detest kids like I detest coming across people with stinky feet. You can put up with them to a certain degree and you put up with them, in part, because you're trying to be kind to the people who are afflicted with said problem (ie person with the stinky feet, parents) but when it becomes overbearing... All you can do is to increase the distance because murdering is always out of the question. (Unless they stole your husband or some similar life threatening, emo inducing shit.)

Anyway kids suck. You let them watch the Karate Kid movie and they try to pull all karate moves. ON YOU. That sucks so bad you wish you could turn back time and convince the brat's parent to sign up for a free abortion.

Also, kids that wipe their snot on YOUR DRESS or kids that throw up ON YOU.

Basically, any kid under the age of five is a weapon of mass destruction.

uncontrollable

2010-06-15T13:06:00.000+08:00

A gripping sensation overcomes the muscles of my sphincter. O, woe is me, stuck in a car waiting for Nadirah and with the release of a toilet nowhere in sight.

It's such a dreary day today. I woke up thinking if I should call in sick because my tummy was throwing a tantrum. I also felt that I should dedicate this day to locking myself up in the toilet for a little "productivity" time but decided I could live another day as I'm off tomorrow.
I've a PC to cover later at 3.30pm. In the meantime, I'd like to have a nice lunch, get some fruit in my system and pay my traffic summons because I'll have to renew my roadtax tomorrow. It expired today by the way.

you can't be that stupid... right?

2010-06-14T13:53:00.000+08:00

My colleagues were dissing another colleague over lunch today over her ineptness at buying bras that actually fit.

Look. When you don't have perfectly symmetrical breasts because one is smaller than the other (or one is bigger than the other, which basically means the same thing) then finding the bra that gives the perfect fit for both of the breasts is not going to be a walk in the park.

But when you buy bras that are clearly too small for your oversized breasts because it's very obvious that your nipples are peeking out the top of the cups... Well...

Either you're too big and the bra manufacturers have yet to come out with bras in your size or you must be some kind of a dumbo.

Because if you go to La Senza, you can find double Ds. These days, bras are made up to size G because women have become too obese. Or have become too crazy by getting ginormous breast implants that serve absolutely no purpose.

So my colleagues were telling me that one day, they got fed up of all the ridiculous shit and took Miss Wrong Sized Bra out bra shopping. That was so very charitable of them.

The only problem is that they only got a pair. So there are still days when they are forced to see her nipples poking through the fabric of her top. Scary.

sunday 13

2010-06-13T20:41:00.000+08:00

Scary things gradually become less scary and once you've gotten used to it the scariness is no more.

I've still yet to achieve anything tantamount to being amazing but I guess things are alright. I'm finding my own way at my own pace and that's all I should be concentrating on.

One day it'll stop feeling awkward and I can start concentrating on being great, really, really great.

Awesome.

oh, suzannah

2010-06-10T12:08:00.002+08:00

Ignore the title. I just didn't know what to name this and then the childhood song leapt into my mind.

Huh. You know what? I am always surrounded by children - not the ones screaming and running in playgrounds (though I doubt that's where kids go to these days anyway) - but the ones you would refer to as "budak". Maybe it's because I'm still a budak myself at 26.

I listen to these budak talk their funny conversations and because maybe, because I had gone through some rough patches in my life and grown apathetic after them, I feel like wringing their necks and saying, "See, life isn't always about prisms and rainbows no matter how hard you try! You have to accept that what you thought was yours and what you thought was good were never any of those things!"

Because you know, these budak, although they surprise me with their maturity and startle me with their quiet insights every once in a while, at the end of the day, they are still nothing more than a bunch of budak whom I see a glimpse of how I used to be, feel and act, when I was their age - which wasn't all that long ago.

And so my heart reaches out to them when they share with me their disappointments and frustrations and anger because I remember what it's like to be in their shoes and feeling so powerless over all these things that depress and catapults them into a time where bedtime meant pressing your face in the pillow to muffle out your sobs and sop up your tears.

There will always be a measure in inequality in any relationship. There will always be one person who will care more and one who will be abused more. It is up to you to decide how you can tip the scales to be more equal, or in your favour. But then again, if the scales are in your favour, then the other person will feel that the relationship is no longer fair to him too!

As much as you cherish your relationship, realise that some relationships just can't go the distance. People change, circumstances change and so do priorities.

But you know what? It's nothing to beat yourself up over because in a matter of time, a new beautiful relationship will come your way. And if you're lucky, it will be that kind that you can cherish for a lifetime.

So never fret when you can find no answer for why things never worked out. Would you rather confront the answers that may depress you further? Or to say, thanks for the memories and move on?

You've already had your past. Don't you think it's time you looked to the future?

I sneer upon your pregnancy

2010-06-02T16:05:00.000+08:00

Being pregnant does not give you the right to act like an uppity bitch. Look, let's see it this way - you (and your husband) brought the pregnancy upon yourself so I have no reason to sympathise with you or to put up with your bullshit because you are not, in any effing way, suffering from a terminal disease.

However, if your pregnancy ails you so much, let me do you a great favour and offer you a free abortion.

I shall kick you so hard in the stomach you'd wish you were nicer to me.

But because I am a civil person, I shan't.

And so I shall be patient because I am a professional.

I'll be waiting for the birth of your ugly child so I can call him Toby and slip him scraps oof canned dog food when you aren't watching.

hello, disappointments

2010-05-28T21:45:00.003+08:00

I thought I wanted to talk about the disappointments that had happened to me recently but well, I never know who IS actually reading this blog. If there's one thing I learnt about posting things onto the public domain is that I have to be aware of the fact that my bosses, my enemies and a fat lady who is contemplating suicide could be reading my blog right now.

So I shall make them barf instead. Because barfing is good sometimes. Especially when you can't poo. Only, if you're like me, who barfs rice out of her nostrils, it can be a painful experience, too.

Because I'm going to wax lyrical about my Bunny Lumpkin, he of the fatty, the love of my life (and also most detested boyfriend on occasion) Noel A.

Did you know that Noel's fingers have become fatter?

Surely not.

But that's just me being random as usual.

Anyway I love Noel.

Except. There are times when I see his nose hair poking out and then I feel the love fading away. Or when he farts and it sounds a bit like a trumpet with a hairball wedged inside, making a tru-tru-truuut sound.

He also has disgusting feet, as most guys are won't to have.

And then I'd like to talk about my accomplishments in buying yet another pair of work pants. I bought a nice red shirt which I can wear on weekends and there's the matter of the new strappy wedges I bought, which I now regret buying because the straps bite into the top of my toes and I ended up with two toes with their skins peeled off! So I had to plaster them.

Then my face sort of looked like this --> T_T because it hurt.

My nails are now a shiny shade of turquoise, by the way, and the jungle is now a jungle no more.

Ah, glorious updates of my sorry, sorry life.

What to do?

Working at NST: Part 2

2010-05-24T22:04:00.002+08:00

Every morning, the first thing I do when I come in is to read the NST. Then I go online and visit The Star, The Malaysian Insider, maybe a few other online news portals before moving on to several politicians' blogs.

And then I get bored the entire day.

Well, that's how it SEEMS to be going anyway.

And thus, I, the dejected new staff has fallen into desperation AND depression because there are days when it seems that there's nothing for me to do unless I suggest something IF I can come up with something right off the top of my head.

If the editors are at a loss of ideas for story ideas, what more me, right?

At least I have two things to do tomorrow. I've managed to bug this dude into letting me interview him in the morning and there's a must-cover event in the afternoon. I can also expect to follow up on some other thing on the first of next month.

Other than that, I am totally, totally bored.

So I hope that the situation does not continue to be this way because the whole point of joining NST was so that I would be exposed to more work than when I was with MM.

What is the point of being passionate about writing when my work is not allowing me to write anymore?

Working at NST: Part 1

2010-05-18T19:24:00.002+08:00

At NST:

1. I wear pants that must be ironed and it makes me wish the wrinkles between my brows, which furrow so often when I frown can be wrinkled to but no can do because I can't poo. The toilets are missing their seats so I must balance my jiggly bum on the edge of the rim and hope that I don't fall in.

2. I wake up at 6.50am each day - early to rise but not early enough to pray. And then I get myself stuck in a 40-minute jam that doubles up as an endurance test for my nerves and the left foot that must constantly go up and down the clutch pedal. I dare not pick my nose when so many cars are within close proximity.

3. At NST I am every day a bundle of nerves. Strangers scare me so and my anti-friendliness makes it even harder for me to say a simple "hello". I wonder at the lack of handsome young men and have never seen so many protruding round asses in my life. It makes me marvel at how they fit those things into pants.

4. And Noel is ever so busy. He finishes work very late. He's always out and I barely get to have him for lunch. What happened to our dream of secret stolen moments on the rooftop? We're too tired to even get up there when the sun goes down.

2010-05-16T00:34:00.000+08:00

If a girlfriend tells her boyfriend that he's had one too many beers, it obviously means that she's a right old nag who can't stand to see the poor fellow have his bit of fun, right? Sure, of course. And the nag just happens to be me.

I feel very wary of the way Noel's been acting lately. He's gotten prone to outbursts and snapping at me for things that never ticked him off before.

Earlier I was accompanying him for drinks with some colleagues before we headed off to his night assignment. The whole lot ended up having maybe three jugs of beer and we were thus, greatly delayed.

After today's stressful morning and the extended hour after work with Noel, I became exhausted and said that I wanted to go home because I worried that I'd doze off at the wheel as my house is a good distance away from where we were.

I really don't know why Noel snapped at me - I don't know if it was me or the beer - but he accused me of trying to cut in on his fun and for wanting things to go my way all the time. He made a great show of wanting to leave and insisted on abandoning his half unfinished jug of beer, which he was having all to himself.

Since the colleagues were still there and I didn't want to cause a scene, I agreed to wait a bit more.

When we finally left, I dozed off in his car.

Maybe that pissed him off even further because after the colleagues were dropped off, he didn't even ask if I'd be fine when we got to my car. In fact, he just drove off.

I don't feel pissed and I'm too tired to feel upset but I do feel bewildered by his behaviour.

If this is how it's going to be all the time from now on then maybe it'd be happier for the both of us to stop seeing each other.