So it’s the third day of 2012, the new year, and I’m holed out at my trusty desk (not corner unfortunately), uncharacteristically in all black, because I’m supposed to be having my period (supposed is the key word here) and I was at 7am hot yoga (I usually pull out dresses for after yoga so sweating is kept to a minimum when I’m commuting to work). So friends, what resolutions do you have for the new year? Swear less (definitely not one of mine)? Exercise more? That’s always one of mine. So join me in disillusion, thinking I could keep these resolutions, at least for three months.

1. Workout at least three times a week.
The key is to be excessive here. So if I can make it to yoga, the gym or for a run five times a week or even every day, I must. Because in a week, I will be pulling an overnighter or just be so godamn lazy that I will be thankful that I tortured myself the week before so I can indulge in Cheetos at my desk.
a) To try rockclimbing (a resolution that I’ve had since 2008)/paddle surfing/dance class
Yes, we have subsets for resolutions, don’t you? I’ll throw in kayaking but that’s something I hope to not just try but do permanently because I’m really bored of yoga. But of course I’m a creature of habit and will keep doing it.
2. Save up to spend on something big.
There’s no point making the resolution to spend wisely or less or save up in general. I will still spend. In 2011, I’ve become extremely reliant on retail therapy but maybe this is the year, I will save up to spend on something worth it – like a Tsumori dress (ha!), or a pair of Repettos (ha!). Or maybe the resolution should be:
b) Decide whether I want quantity or quality
Because I could never decide. I like cheap and expensive. I like trendy that can be bought on a song and classic that costs an arm. And hell, I have bought both. I will really manage to save some money if I can decide on which end of the spectrum and Stick to it.
3. Develop a deaf ear and just walk away from:
i. My mother – this is the year, I will just walk away when she has repeated the same thing 7 times in a row and IGNORE her even if she screams at me. I will not waste any energy screaming or trying to understand her.
ii. Big and small – just because they are not nice people doesn’t mean I have to treat them the same way they treat me. It also doesn’t mean I should go all out to kill them with kindness too. Just say the minimum and do my work.
iii. Random parasites that I dislike – complaints will probably start to come in about a new group of people called the in-laws. Who they? They are “family” you acquire by way of marriage. (As though your own isn’t enough.) Individually and if they’re not related to you, they are great people but when you have to interact with them through no wish of your own, they can be a pain as I am a pain to them. Just ignore them, I hear everyone else say? OK then.
4. Don’t feel bad about anything.
Someone was forgotten on my guest invite list for the wedding/party/dinner I’m planning? Something happened in the worker bee hive? Fine. I will make amends if it was my fault and I have to. But no longer will I take the blame or even say sorry even if I am inclined to, to keep the peace or I feel I should. Unless it is truly my responsibility if not, I will not apologise any more. This resolution is also known as “I won’t let people step over me/Stop being a pushover”. Yes, one of the things that piss me off about young people these days is their unwillingness to step up to the plate. But if I can’t beat them, why not join them, instead of picking up their slack?
5. Count my blessings, no matter how small they are – be it MacDs or steak frites. Can’t miss out a food reference.

Jupes got married one Saturday in October. She’s an October baby too so in the same month, she had her birthday and also got hitched. I’ve seen people get married off (boy were we glad to get Auntie SF off our hands) but I guess when I saw her husband lift her veil as she sat in her parent’s bedroom in the house that I took a nap in on the very first day I knew her, I was overwhelmed by bittersweet emotions.

Jupes had always been the friend I could turn to. She was the one with the car in hall – the daredevil driver who we’d all scream at when she made a very very late turn in order to exit an expressway. She made things happen and wanted all the different experiences one could have in life – trying out for a game show and actually being on a game show, wakeboarding up a storm, speaking French like a native, going on exchange in Brussels. She was a banker and now a baker. She filled her days up with appointments, things to do, it was always go-go-go but she never forgets about the rest of us and me.

Being Jupes who throws the most awesome birthday parties – her annual birthday parties were legendary, think drunken speeches at locations I would never think I was atas enough to go to if it wasn’t for her invitation – of course, her wedding was equally epic. All her bridesmaid had matching pink dresses and wedges (except me with my horrid balance – Jupes was the most un-Bridezilla and very sweetly got me a pair of pink flats that I’m still wearing – unlike Auntie who requested us to wear apple green and we ended up in varying shades of green to rival a vegetable stall). The dinner was a breezy, Shanghai themed affair and thankfully the ultra-heavy downpour stopped just a hour before the solemnisation started. Burkill Hall at Botanic Gardens, a two-storey open air colonial house played host to twenty odd tables.

The bride handmade the macaroons and desserts served before the solemnisation. She had a glorious tired wedding cake that was beautiful to look at and surprisingly, yummy too!

And she wore a gorgeous white wedding gown, the same one she donned in the morning, as she walked down the pebbled path with her father to the pastor (priest?) and her soon-to-be husband. There were three dress changes through the night but my favourite was her lace-detailed cheongsam (seen here). It was elegant and simple just like the lady Jupes has always been.

(So Jupes got married two months ago and I started this entry then, only to have the two lines just lying in-situ until this day in office when I just refuse to work – Christmas was just two days ago! Another thing I don’t miss about the ex-worker bee hive – having to make sure you do enough work to complete your timesheet no matter how reluctant or allergic you are to work.)

A week or two ago, I was going home. It was a decent hour so I had a spring in my step and was looking forward to grabbing a relatively healthy dinner of sushi. My mother didn’t cook, which was great of course. It’s healthy food. I’m not big on it, especially if I’m in a foul mood but it works out if I don’t have to eat to make myself feel better. Anyway, long story short, I lost my cardcase with my house access card key, company medical card and namecards inside. And of course my mother was in a fit and I was highly annoyed with myself and her in the end because she got on my case – of course.

But the next morning, someone called the office – this kind man (sounded like an uncle to me) had picked up my card case. He verified that the item was mine in the most stringent way – asked me what it was exactly, I had to name everything inside. I was impressed and touched by his act of kindness. Some people wouldn’t have been bothered. Lots actually. Or they would just pick it up and keep it or toss it – apparently, I had dropped it at the bus stop so there wasn’t any lost and found he could pass it to. I was so relieved, I almost got down on my knees when I got the call in office.

So thank you kind man! You renewed my faith in mankind. (Partly, not when I drive of course.)

I’m usually quite stalker-ish. Streetstyle is an interest but what fascinates me more is what people have in wardrobes (Refinery 29 has these cool Close Close-ups videos) and more so … what’s in people’s bags. (Purseblog satisfied my stalkerish tendencies)

So I’m sitting on my backside, feeling rather pleased with myself for running a 5km on the treadmill and some 30 minutes weird glider machine at the gym and then walking across the road for a crazy hour of Hatha with lots of Wheels and attempts at Crow. I’ve forgotten about the lasagna, pizza and ice cream I rewarded myself with.

Anyway, I’m feeling damn boliao today, so I decided to do my own “What’s in my bag” entry. Note that usually I bring everything but the kitchen sink (I’m no girl who can live out of a tiny clutch or tiny bag, I’m not Belle) but Coach’s Court is so bloody cute, I just had to get it and figure how to live with it. So I carry another bag with me so I can still have my entire life near me.

So I shall list what’s in my bag right now.
1. First, the bag is new (heh, always), courtesy of Fats who was in Las Vegas (for work, I know, what bullshit right). The thing is, I only have had one Coach bag and honestly, never bought into the whole brand (also gave/partly sold the bag). Coach reissued their classics recently and I really wanted the Classic Leather Shoulder Purse. But it’s also the size of my camera case. I mean baby steps to downsizing right? So I decided to meet myself halfway and settled for the Court Bag. A sling and a handle – that’s the prerequisite for a good bag right? Plus, you can’t even tell it’s Coach – which’s the best thing.
2. Hanging off Court, is Ugly Doll Mr Kasoogi. He was acquired from Fao Schwartz in New York and the perfect companion for Court.
3. Vapur waterbottle that flattens and can be rolled up when empty. Super design and after I bought it online, every single imitation and real ones arrived on our shores. Damn.
4. Comme Des Garcons wallet in purple embossed polka dots. According to Lucky, it’s also a wallet that does not die. Don’t know whether to be pleased with that fact.
5. Bath and Body Works anti-bacterial hand lotion thingy with a plastic cover that hooks onto your bag if you feel like it. I don’t care for germs. But it’s handy after using your hands to eat your burger and there’s no toilet nearby – it gets rid of the oily residue. Yups, I use it After I eat.
6. Karen Walker Patsys sunnies that I tote around in an Oakley cover.
7. Tissue paper kept in Cath Kidston tissue paper cover (I’m the kind of girl who has bags for her bags) from an e-mook.
8. Kleenex blotters. They rock! Serious!
9. Ettusais Lip Essence (Deep Moist) a special edition of the normal Lip Essence. So it was given to me (perks of the job) but it’s really very very good for chapped lips. It’s a little gooey when you first apply it but you don’t have to re-apply that much. I happen to use at least 3 different lip balms at the same time. Yes I’m that kind of girl.
10. Keys! I only have 2 but my entire key chain takes up ALOT of place.
11. Not pictured but of course always by my side, my trusty iPhone 3GS.

And that ends my boliao post.

Xiu Ru did the North Face 100. This means she was part of a duo who ran 50km each on trail. She took 7 hours. She is crazy. I made her a sign. It says “Well Done!” on the other side.

I am very proud of you. And I bet you will still do it next year.

I’ve been spending some time with the girls. I accompanied Xin bebe to an Insead open house a few weeks ago on a (yes you got it) Friday night. It was amazing how stepping into the three quarter filled lecture hall transported me straight back into National University of Stupid. Some things won’t change. There will be foreign students everywhere, speaking up, making their point known. Maybe it was having already spent an entire day restless at work or the fact that it was a mock lecture that rendered me even more restless even though the lecturer was of course miles better than NUS standards. There wasn’t much to fiddle with on my phone, so my old JC pal and I pretended to be involved with each other, resting our heads on each other’s shoulders, the occasional fingers entwining, the whole lesbian shebang.

Suddenly though everything’s picking up speed. Jupes and I had dinner outdoors and discussed pertinent issues, for instance, her upcoming wedding and my longest-engagement-is-it-happening wedding. Today was spent at Jackie’s, with her snarling fat cats and watching her work at sewing machine while I sang along to songs playing on her computer. I realised it wasn’t normal for people to wonder what was going on in other people’s heads, that no one actually wondered about how important music was when it came to finding the person they would fall in love with. The older I get, the more confident I am in expressing what I think, no matter how ridiculous it is, but this doesn’t mean I am more self-assured. Sometimes, something might catch me off guard and I would feel that I do have the upper hand in the situation but then of course, I am always wrong.

I feel like a lost middle child (never mind I never had siblings). My peers are way ahead of me, they talk about houses, marriage, and even its (my slang for children) and ask me when is my turn almost all the time. They have grown up, their minds are full of serious issues and choices that have real consequences. My most serious decisions are whether I should get up for early morning yoga or gym and whether I really should stuff my face with junk food. Or when am I going to lay my hands on a maxi skirt, a cape and a proper cut-out shoulder top. At work, they are busy fighting fires and doing real work. At my desk that I attempt to keep tidy, I rush to make sense of writing, to fit words into spaces and burn the midnight oil to ensure that there is an issue to go to print. My mind is filled with spelling, grammar and other things that seems to be non-consequential.

But yet, I don’t understand the young ones. I don’t fit into their world where they patronise blogshops with wares that aren’t my size. It’s really normal to be a skinny girl for the under 25 set. I have never been conscious of my size until now. Maybe I could have been an anorexic or bulimic if I were part of them. In the same way I don’t understand my peers, I don’t know what the hell they are talking about. I don’t approve of their entitled attitude or how un-humble they are.

Generally, what unsettles me is how no one means what they say and how everyone hides behind a mask. I am always at the losing end because I am trusting. I will believe you if you told me the moon was made of green cheese. In the same way that I will tell you almost exactly what I think and not say what I don’t mean. I feel that I don’t know how to protect myself. And I am scared.

I’ve learnt so much more than I ever thought I would know and care about beauty and makeup. Unfortunately, I haven’t translated my new knowledge to practice much. My skincare routine has been buffed up and I’ve recently discovered how marvellous sheet masks are but as for makeup, I’m still pretty much the same lacklustre about makeup. But I do like pretty nails and DIY my manicures, I’m pretty happy with nice-from-far nails. My nail polish collection has been pretty buffed up – Topshop is a firm favourite.

But removing the varnish is a pain, plus the bits from the cotton pads stuck on the fingers are annoying so this, Sephora’s Express Nail Polish Remover is the BOMB. OK, so I bought this from Sephora (Belle has a rule – we don’t ever buy any beauty or makeup product when we can get it for free) but this will be the exception. I saw it on my colleague’s table and made Geri use it one night we were trying on nail polish from the stash. Inside this is foam with a hole for you to stick your finger in. I spilled some (not sure how much) of the liquid when transporting it home but tonight when I tried it for the very first time, it worked like a charm. It says to leave your finger in for a minute but as usual I was impatient so I just stuck it in and turned it round and my nails came out clean as a whistle, even the edges. Although the polish I had on was the pale pale pink, Essie’s classic – Ballet Slipper – so I have to wait to find out whether it removes my dark purple that’s almost black so effectively. And with all fabulous things, it’s not cheap though. I think it was more than $20.

I’ve recently discover Into The Gloss, a beauty website run by Emily Weiss (if you did watch The Hills, she was the perfect Teen Vogue intern that Lauren and Whitney were wary of). Now, everyone who knows me knows that I couldn’t give half a hoot about beauty and makeup. But the good and bad thing about subbing is I’m forced to read, interpret, research and re-write beauty. Which basically is not my favourite thing to do and do you know how many words can be used to describe a skincare product or lipstick, blusher and I could go on …

So this article about Jean Godfrey-June, Lucky’s Beauty Editor, deeply struck a chord with me. First off, Lucky is the magazine about shopping and hence, my first true magazine love. As much as I adore Teen Vogue, I appreciate a magazine that cuts through all what I consider fluff and goes straight to the important things like clothes. I never used to read stories about love or sex, much less beauty. But what she wrote here resonated with me. ““My life with beauty … let’s see. I mean, the thing I would say is that I just always wanted to be a writer. I wasn’t particularly interested in beauty. What I discovered as I became a writer is that everyone relates to beauty.” And I realised what she said was true. I’m just like her, I just always wanted to be a writer. I may have been particularly interested in fashion but since interning and being exposed to fashion, realised that I may not have a gift in it.

Right now, I’m subbing and hopefully learning how to be a better writer. Before the book closes, I sometimes curse myself especially when I’m in office at 3am. But I know this is what I want to do, even if the going gets tougher and I hope I will be able to do this for a long long time just like Jean Godfrey-June.

Then it came to the various performances and mollycoddling of the boys. I’ve to admit, I never met so polite boys in my life or such good lookers. Not all 50 are but when you’ve been through hell and high water to secure them, you feel like a proud mother when almost all are standing right in front of you. Especially when you get to know them better and you see some of them (or in my case 5 boys) every week and some would pop in occasionally to rehearse and truly perk our days up. Especially when they are so sporting during the events, they truly are the boys you want to take home. Some perfect for bringing home to Mum, a great example would be the Best Boy On Earth and some, you just want to bring home and tear off their shirts. Heh.

The finals party at Zouk was just crazy. It was a blur of screaming at the guys, treating them like kids. Individually, they are perfect well behaved adults but together, they are a bunch of rascals sneaking out to take a smoke break or just be assholes (in the most good natured manner). Backstage wasn’t that fun. I couldn’t watch the band performance or my boys do the striptease up close. But it was worth it.

I take pride in my work and this certainly was a long and exhilarating trip. I get far too attached when it comes to having people involved. This was the first week the strip boys haven’t tumbled into our office at 8pm to practice the dance. They laugh when I said there’s a sense of loss. Well, it is my first EB ever. I don’t think the boys will remember me this time next year. That being said. I’m still glad it’s over.

But to all the boys I’ve nanny-ed before, thanks for the memories.