I saw my name in print today. It was a glorious moment as I sneaked a copy of the latest issue into the little room to find it. I always wanted to see my name up in lights. Even though I could not figure which part of what I wrote was in the article. Heh. I feel giddy like a teenager.

Sometimes, the closer you are to the sun, the harder you fall when you do not reach your goal. Cue: silly boy with wax wings who flew to close to the sun. When faced with the girls so much younger and so much more go getting and competitive than me, I feel childish and extremely old at the same time. Sometimes I do not think I take it seriously and seem to have not prepared enough. But preparation will not put me in competition with those girls who have been creative all their lives, who have a Mac for artistic reasons instead of just surfing the net and various bo liao stuff. I want it as bad as the other girls maybe more because my time is running out faster than theirs. Apart from being willing to go on my knees, I have no idea how to go about standing out from the rest.

All the years of working in the bee hive seem to have vanished into the mist, I absolutely cannot recall how it was like to be a employed worker bee. I feel like the intern I was five years ago when Auntie Shufang secured her first job. I am shy, uncertain and thin skinned again. I stutter and revert back to uncertainty. Tonight, I finally got the courage to view that silly less than 10 second video clip that I had to do for them. I looked like the cartoon person that Jackie says I am. I move with jerks and constantly. But that is the way I am, as idiotic as I look.

I tried on the toga dress Siew Lu says is too long for her. It is jersey and heavy and falls nicely over my knees. Part of old age is gravitating towards longer dresses. As I twirled around in it and wondered whether to wear it for the Friday before Chinese New Year, my mother being wet blanket says it is too fancy and weird for Ahma’s house. Tomorrow is the reunion dinner instead of Saturday. My Ahma is less conservative than my mother, really how is that possible but it is. But maybe I will not wear the dress after all. Strapless bras make me uncomfortable and I have not taken the dress out for a test run for pit stains.