Black Cloud Over My Head

Good grief! I just realized that it's already Thursday and my last post is about Friday..LAST FRIDAY!

Where does the time fly man? Continue like that before I know it I will be Nenekmanggis liau!


The only constant ray of sunshine in my life

Was in London these last 2 days. Went for a meeting. Was really great. I met Gloria and we had dinner at Ping Pong and then had a jolly good time at AKA on Tuesday night. Lovely Italians all over the place. Yummy...Man, if I didn't have to be stuck in a conference room with lawyers all day long the next day I would stayed out until 4am. But since I am a responsible giiirrrl, I went home at quarter past 2, packed my bags (I spent 1.5 hours doing the most efficient shopping and Glo brought stacks of pressies for Chiara) and went to sleep in my lovely, bouncy, hotel room bed. Hehehe.

What is it about hotel rooms and the beds? I always find myself wanting jump right into the mountain of pillows and burying my face in the crisp white super soft sheets while bouncing up and down on the wonderful box-spring or whatever it is mattress.

Ever wondered what the world would be like if hotel rooms could talk? My goodness me. I for one would surely be in BIIIG trouble. Won't go into details now but maybe one day. But man, if they could talk. What a wonderful story of my life they would tell. HAHAHAAA!!! LA, Mykonos, London, New York, Barcelona, Ibiza, Rome, Milan, Singapore (yes, Amara hotel and the Four Seasons), Paris, Toulouse, Phuket, Phi Phi, Hong Kong and so many more. Just writing all this now brings back a patchwork of memories that forces a smile. And a little laugh too. And people have come and people have gone, but always the same 4 faces appear in most of these flashbacks. Noone can ever say we haven't had an action-filled life, eh gals?

If hotel rooms could talk then there would be one that would tell you a story of tears and pain. Today. Today I finally turned the page on one of the longest chapters of my life. Today I have a big hole in my heart. Today I think I don't know what's going to happen with the rest of my life. Today, I lost a big chunk of me. Today I am feeling a little lost. Today I am feeling a little hurt. Today I am feeling a little neglected. Today I am feeling alone. Today I feel like crawling into a hole and crying for a while. Today I wish I had my friends around me so we could go out and get pissed. So I wouldn't have to think and I could stop tearing every 15 minutes. Today, I really want to jump on a plane and go home. Today I wish I could erase the last 5 years of my life and start all over. Today I think I might have broken my life record of never having regretted anything. Ever.

Today I wish today didn't have to happen.

NEWS FLASH!

It's Friday, it's Friday, it's fr-fr-fr-fr FRIDAY!

And guess WHAT?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

I AM SUPERMOTHERABSOLUTELMONGOUSFUCKINGLY BORED!!!

I think I am going to crawl into a hole and play Russian roulette now.

Anyone care to join me?

A special day

Last night I saw Lenny Kravitz live at Paleo festival. The man is hot, hot, hot. I screamed and jumped so much that I am surprised I still have a voice. And I am surprised I didn't collapse into a pretzel while presenting my project plan this morning. BROOOOOKEEEN. Wah liau. Back-ache. Neck-ache. Voice ache. Backside also ache. He ended the concert with "Are You Gonna Go My Way" and the entire mostly french-speaking crowd was screaming along trying to sing whatever words sounded like "Are You Gonna Go My Way".

In the midst of my screaming and jumping while trying to hold on to my haversack and protect my beautiful Coach slipper balls from being trampled on, I thought of Eve. Eve with her dreadlocked hair all those years ago. Who used to headbang to this song wearing that godawful stupid turquoise and white uniform. Hhheheee.

I wanna go for another rock concert. In fact I think I am gonna quit my job and become a roadie. In fact, better yet, I think I will become a rock star. Can or not? I also want to wear shiny clothes and funny shoes and big sunglasses at night and shove my face in a camera that projects my image onto 100-feet-wide-and-high screens while everyone shouts A-NI-TA! A-NI-TA! A-NI-TA!!

Before I start changing my title on my namecards, methinks its time for me to go any buy the birthday cake for me daughter. Today is Chiara's real birthday. One year ago at exactly this time, I was in the delivery room of Hopital Cantonal of Geneva waiting to be fully dilated before starting to push. My jewel was born at 1850 on July 20th 2004.

Here's a picture of her when I brought her home from the hospital.


I love my daughter. I will die for her. Everyday, I cannot wait to run home and see her and play with her.

I want to be a rock star. I want to take drugs, sing songs, have dirty sex with only handsome young guys with big dicks and play the guitar.

Please call me Sybil from now on.

My First Birthday

I celebrated my first birthday on Saturday. My baby's first birthday that is, eventhough Chiara is officially 1 on Wednesday. And it was a dual birthday because Lucas turned 3 on July 13th. And boy, oh, boy, what a birthday party it was. 40 adults and 30 kids. Tons of food. Bouncy castle. Paddling pool. I know, I know. A little bit over the top. My little sweetie was crying by the end of the afternoon coz it was hot and very overwhelming for her. Maybe I overdid it a little. She is afterall only 1. Ironically she was probably the most clueless out of all the guests as to what was going on. (My star nanny helped out and if she wasn't around I wouldn't have even dared plan such a big do.)

What is it about birthdays and parents who get all crazy about them?

I guess I am now wondering if I did this party for me or for my bubby. Because the truth of the matter is that I am sure she would have enjoyed herself just as much or if not more if I had just invited another child over and had some cake.

I have to confess that yes, I wanted to show off. Show off my baby who is the most beautiful girl in the world. And that I made her. And that she has successfully arrived at her first year a wonderful baby because of me (I hired the nanny didn't I?). And show that I am incredibly proud of her. And show off how I can manage my life as a working mum. And to prove to people that I am not all about drinking, partying, hair and clothes. And prove that my nanny DOES NOT run the household all by herself (just some parts lah).

And I want to be able to tell her when she grows up how she had such a special, wonderful 1st birthday party.

So i guess while I am happy that the party was a success, I have to confess that I do indeed have guilty feelings about it. Because it was more about me than her. I now I feel bad so I am going to do another, quieter, subdued, cake-and-candles only Happy Birthday on Wednesday. Just with her.

And I will have my camera with me. Because you know what silly mummy forgot to do? Charge the damn camera. UURGH!!! I was so busy planning the other details of the party that I forgot to charge my camera and so I could not take photos!! CAN U BELIEVE IT??? MY OWN BUBBY's FIRST BIRTHDAY SUPER DUPER BIRTHDAY PARTY!!! Aiyah. Luckily Frederic took videos and my sis took some nice pictures of the party.

So here are some pictures from Saturday.

My favourite shot of the day:

2 beauties - My baby and my mummy

More pictures from the party


Picture of the house


Happy Birthday!


Mummy why are these people singing?


Mummy they sing so badly..HELP!


Bouncing away on the bouncing castle


I am so tired..need to hang on

All in all it was a really nice day. It threatened to rain and thnakfully it didn't. Everyone had a lot of fun which is the most important for me. Despite my post-party feelings, I am glad I did it and I am so happy my baby had a wonderful first birthday.

Now the question is, what shall I do next year?

Will try to post more pics soon....til next time! Ciao!!!

Ice balls

If I had balls, yes, they would be iced ones now. It's bloody freezing here in yodel land and I am convinced its because all these damn temperate-acclimatized, pink, sun-averse ang moh's have been COMPLAINING away about how hot it was over the last 2 weeks. Well now, we are being punished because it's the middle of summer and it's bloody freezing.

I tell you God is watching. And listening.

And my colleague from space whom I share the office with just simply HAS to open the damned window. It helps her disposition.

Please let me just die now.

It's times like these that I ask myself why in hell I ever left Singapore.

Hmmm. Just looked out the window and I remember now. I came here for the better view.

You know, if we actually managed to replace half of the population of Singaporeans in Singapore with people from other lands (crazy Middle Easterns, shot-gun toting crazy deep southern and mid-western Americans and Virginie French types excluded of course), Singapore would be a great place to live in.

I love Singapore. I love the weather, I love Orchard Road, I love Sentosa, I love Singlish, I love calling everyone who is older than me auntie and uncle and my God, I LOVE the food.

What irritates me about Singapore and what makes my heart beat with desperate anxiety whenever I think about packing up and going home are Singaporeans themselves. And that includes of course those men in white. Eventhough, I have to admit, I was one of those Singaporeans (when I was living there of course), who used to ignore the politics and not discuss them with anyone. Especially foreigners. Because hey, the truth of the matter was that I could pay my low taxes and didn't spit or litter, loved (and still do) the fact that Signapore is a chewing-gum free city, appreciated all the green around me and loved the fact that I could afford to take taxis even when I was below the 3K income bracket.

Nanny-state? What's that? Freedom of speech? Who cares!

My life was cool. Why? Because everything in life is a question of budget and perspective.

What really did irk me everyday, all day, all night were the people. Singaporeans are an annoying lot. Just everything about them irritates me. They way they look, behave, eat, drink is just so damn ANNOYING. Everytime I come home for holiday, the minute I arrive at the airport and think to myself "Why are they ALL LIKE THAT?"

Of course I am generalizing and of course there are exceptions but for the most part, Singaporeans are ungracious. They are badly behaved. There are just too many "new money" types around. And there are so many racists among them. Closet ones as well. And they are just plain sickening.

So I guess I will be hanging around here for a while. Or elsewhere. Anyplace but Singapore. Not only because I cannot bear looking at ugly people all day everyday until I die but because I really do not want my daughter growing up to be like an annoying, ungracious, ugly, typical Singaporean. Too many of them squeezed in such a small island to take the risk.

Maybe the Singapore Governement can come up with a FIND AND REPLACE campaign. Then maybe I will come back for good. Coz the truth of the matter is that I am a Singapore girl in my heart. And someday, I would like to come home.

The New Economy

The world through Moka's eyes

I actually started to write a post about love but decided to have a bit of a laugh instead.

I was once part of something called The New Economy. You know the one.

It was
- the one that allowed tobacco companies to stay stuck in the eighties
- the one that made us all talk differently
- the one that redefined the word "cool"
- the one that got ugly boys laid(see pt above)
- the one that turned day into night and night into day
- the one that created the a whole new revenue line for mobile phones as fashion accessories
- the one that legitimized office-dating/affairs/one-night-stands/one-office-toilet-stands/one-office-christmas-party-stands
- the one that forced me to publicize 18yr-old CEO's and 16yr-old CTO's who couldn't even shave yet much less say more than 3 words to the press
- the one that spawned a whole lot of other baby C-something-O's
- the one created a whole subculture of UFO watchers and jobless louts because they had 50 million in the bank and therefore they could
- the one that allowed us to show our boss the finger and not get fired

Today I stumbled across this website.

http://www.huhcorp.com

Can we please have The New Economy back?

Beauties and the Beasts

I was in Lisbon with Frederic over the weekend and along with the sites and sounds, I had to get my dose of proper cable TV. So in between clips of the Live 8 concerts, I managed to catch a program on VH1 entitled "Remaking Vince Neil".

The title itself made me laugh already. Trying to remake Vince Neil is like trying to remake muah chee into filet mignon. Like trying to remake Zoe Tay so she can speak English. Like trying to remake Malaysia into Singapore. TAK BOLEH!!

Everyone knows that Tommy Lee was the ONLY hottie of Mötley Crue.

It was really funny to see the famous glam rock front man, now (predictably) fat and faded, hanging off the arm of a Pamela Anderson wannabe he calls his wife, trying to further hang on to what's left of the rock-an-roll-star thang.

I think VH1 should have sprung to remake (or unmake in Mrs Neil's case) the both of them.

Bon Jovi once said "every little guy wants to learn to play guitar so he can pick up all the chicks and be a rock and roll star".

Indeed.

"You know Vince, this fitted black tank top will definitely give you a better silhouette ESPECIALLY when teamed up with this Cavalli shirt and these Cavalli leather paaants", sang Vince Neil's very fashionable and very gay stylist.

And "pop" goes that rock-an-roll star bubble. Vince Neil is as much a has been as Sebastian Bach.

Who you say?

I rest my case.

Ugly people. They bother me. Both (aiyah, inside and outside) types. And unfortunately you don't have to waste current and switch on the TV to find them. If you live in Singapore just look out you window can already. And if you don't live in Singapore then check out some Singapore blogs. Wah liau! I have never seen a bigger collection of moon faces, pancake faces and plain ol' "U-G-L-Y you-ain't-got-no-alibi-you're-UGLY" faces. No wonder they all blog. Too ugly to do things in real life.

So in that spirit, let me put up some pics of beautiful people.


My Chiara - the bikini babe


Little doll


Little princess in the park


Her favorite pastime - digging for treasure


Four beauties in a horse drawn carriage in Central Park


Frederic and myself in Lisbon


That night in Docas - Lisbon's equivalent of Singapore's Boat Quay and Barcelona's Olympic Port


Lisbon city


Cascais town (pronounced Kaash-Kaeesh)


The biggest, fattest, most expensive chocolate dipped strawberries in the world. They were delicious. Glo had to ask the chashier to repeat the price 3 times coz she couldn't believe they costs 6USD a piece.

So cheers to all beautiful things and my baby Chiara - the most precious, beautiful, wonderful, person in my life.

God help me if she decides to marry a Vince Neil wannabe.