Exhale

I shall never go clubbing without a guy again. Club bouncers are not enough, I need my own personal bouncer.

I went to MOS with Anjali the other day to show her around because she'd wanted to go for a while. So we hung around having drinks, fishing out lychees out of her lychee Martini, attempting to take pictures with our cellphones, watching the bartender drop the bottles he was juggling and generally just having a good time hanging out by ourselves. Note the significance of our last two words - By Ourselves. We were having fun by ourselves by the little sofa we had managed by a stroke of luck to snag which offered us both a good view of the dance floor and a chance to watch our favourite bartender do increasingly ridiculous stunts with his bottles. And we consoled ourselves with the assumption that even though it was Ladies' Night, there wouldn't be too many annoying pre-pubescent guys around because it's World Cup season and they would all probably at home watchin Sweden thrash England or something.

Then we realized that MOS beams the World Cup anyway.

As quickly as you could say Score! some White guy toddled over to our table slurring "What's the strongest thing they have here? Do they have absinthe?". Hardly fine connoiseurs of alcohol we just told him we weren't sure. I had vague notions of absinthe, all related to a scene in Moulin Rogue when Ewan McGregor and his pals drink the said poison and have strong hallucinations involving Kylie Minogue dancing in front of them singing 'The Sound of Music'. Well that's partly it right? However undiscouraged, White boy goes off to the table next to us only to hear from them that absinthe is banned in Singapore because of its extremely high alcohol content or something along those lines. While White boy sallies forth looking for a more potent mixture, his companion, Black Guy, sitting at the table next to us comes over saying 'Hi can my friend and I join you?'. With significant reservations on my part, Anjali nevertheless graciously allows our new acquaintances to join us - Chinese and Indian girl. We also learn that their names are Wykidd and Turner (now I shall cease with the race-specific identifications).

I have no doubt Wykidd was trying to be nice when he attempted to strike up conversation with Anjali who was next to him. Nevertheless I felt faintly annoyed by this...incursion. I'm sorry if I'm sounding antisocial but whatever. I don't go to clubs to meet new people. Period. Particularly guys whom I've never met before and are from out of town and on Ladies' Night. Especially after Turner later comes over saying excitedly "EVERYONE SAID WE SHOULD COME HERE OR TO ZOUK TONIGHT CAUSE IT'S LADIES' NIGHT AND THERE'RE LOTS OF WOMEN!' I am prone to be very guarded under such circumstances - but isn't every one? If I wanted to make new friends I'd go to. I don't know. The NUS Arts camp they keep calling me about or something. In any case, I think Wykidd must've sensed the icicles practically bristling on my skin which I believe is why he focused mainly on Anjali only breaking occasionally to say something like "I'm sorry Jeanne I don't think I asked you how old you were? .....Oh. That's great. Anyway Anj, can I call you Anj? What should we do while in Singapore?..."

I should probably be more cordial to strangers. In any case, Turner comes over to the table already smelling of alcohol.

Turner: CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? THE STRONGEST THING I COULD GET WAS A HEINEKEN! DO YOU GIRLS WANT A DRINK? ....NO? WHY NOT? AH C'MON I'LL GET YOU ALL A HEINEKEN. LET'S HAVE FUN!

And then came my horror. With Anjali and Wykidd getting along famously (well at least cordially)...would the unspoken law of double dating fall onto this situation, thus making me obliged to converse with the guy who was going -

Turner: YOU GIRLS DANCE??? IN THE STATES PEOPLE WOULD BE GOING WILD ON THE DANCE FLOOR BY NOW!! ... NO? BUT ITS OK I DON'T DANCE WELL EITHER!!... AW C'MON LET'S HAVE SOME FUN!

In the end, after failing to get us both to a) have another drink b) dance they don't take the hint but go -

Turner: WELL WE GOTTA TAKE SOME PICTURES THEN! C'MON! THERE'S A PHOTO ROOM RIGHT BELOW! I WANNA TAKE A PICTURE! LETS HAVE SOME FUN!!

Well how could we say no to an innocuous picture? So we went down to some room where MOS staff were taking free pictures of clubbers 'having fun' and 'enjoying each other's company'. And while waiting our turn, Anjali and Wykidd appeared absorb in conversation. (I start to think that maybe I shouldn't have been so antagonistic to the only sober one) I stand some way behind them, arms crossed, while Turner mooches around nearby with his Heineken. So to avoid having to make conversation I start msging a couple of people about my awkward predicament and my ever concerned boyfriend replies with stern dictums: DO NOT ACCEPT ANY OF THEIR DRINKS AND IF ANJALI GETS TOO FRIENDLY WITH THEM LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! (she wasn't too happy to see this later on)

In the meantime, my face must've betrayed some sour look because like some unending commentary -

Turner: YOU DON'T LIKE PICTURES? YOU DON'T LIKE SMIILING FOR PICTURES?...OH REALLY? WELL LEMME TEACH YOU A TRICK! WHEN YOU TAKE PICTURES YOU SHOULD CLOSE ONE EYE AND WINK LIKE THIS! *demonstrates* BUT YOU DON'T LIKE PICTURES? PICTURES ARE FUN! YOU KNOW, WE GOTTA HAVE FUN!

After repeating 5 times to him that No I'm fine with pictures, I'm just surprised MOS has a little photo room because I never noticed it before, we finally go before the camera man...which gives me an excuse to stop justifying what he thinks is my inexplicable abhorrence for film and basically to just stop talking. Then after almost being strangled across the neck by an overzealous 'WE GOTTA HAVE FUN!' we head toward the Main Arena supposedly to dance or do something else 'fun', when Turner suddenly disappears. I suppose I should've noticed his absence earlier because technically I was lagging behind AnjKidd with him, only I was determinedly walking at a faster pace to avoid talking to him and his half drunk Heineken (Gosh I really am antisocial) so oh well. Then Wykidd goes off to look for his friend, and we (with much egging on my part) carpe diem and lose ourselves.

And can you believe it? Immediately after I felt very bad. Though not really for the One who chose to wander off by himself on what I thought was a fairly straight corridor and was already drinking himself toward inebriation and renal failure by 10pm, but rather for his friend who had to go look for him and make sure he was alright. In fact, to compound my guilt, we bumped into Wykidd not 15 minutes later looking rather flustered and still alone. And then I started to feel that inconvenient thing called sympathy, because they'd only been in Singapore for a few hours, in an unfamiliar location, with no cellphone to contact each other. So we helped look for Turner for a while before we left because Anjali had a curfew. But still felt bad all the way back for abandoning the (admittedly) nice Black Guy, well, twice.

Nevertheless is it wrong on my part not to want to make new friends at clubs? I don't want to have to go through the contortions of figuring out how to reject their drinks and not dance with them! I don't want to get anxious while plotting how to ditch them! My antisocial self emerges in clubs! Don't touch me!

Hence I maintain my thesis statement that I should always, without fail, go to a club with a male companian. Not only because they do come in handy when we utilize their pockets for our handphones, wallets, misc items, but also because they act/masquerade as The Potential Boyfriend and hence Dominant Male Rival and Personal Bouncer. A Trinity of Protection. And it pre-empts any guilt at having to ditch a new acquaintance.

Or maybe we should've just done what we should've done from the start and politely declined their company. That would've been easier yet in many ways, harder for us polite Asians. Ah well.

I must learn to be more cordial in any case.

posted by Jeanne @ 11:41 PM

Haha Father Richard Ambrose is a great speaker. How come I can't speak like him? Instead I'm relegated to writing sad, sardonic entries about 3-star flicks.

And speaking of movies, Scary Movie 4 is ...well. What can I say. What we've come to expect of the Scary Movie franchise. Though I think one of the best scenes was when Ann Faris was talking to the Ju-on boy-haunt in a mixture of rubbish Japanese speak.

Ann Faris: Hello? *no answer* (with Japanese accent) Harro?
Ju-On boy: Konnichiwa Sayonara Honda! (I know how to stop the Evil invading aliens!)
Ann Faris: Toyota? Mitisubishi Konika Sukiyaki Ramen! (What? Tell me your secret!)
Ju-on boy: Tempura sushi sashimi! (The secret lies in my father's heart!)
Ann Faris: Fujitsu! (Wait!)

Or something nonsensical like that. Ah ok I seriously digress once again!

Yes. Father Richard Ambrose of Holy Cross Church. His talk entitled 'Is the Mass boring?' was very informative and I'm glad it helped demystify some things for me. Plus I now am in possession of interesting trivia. Haha. Like why the priest only wears Rose robes two times a year - the 3rd week of Advent and 4th week of Lent. Violet robes are donned in the first few weeks of Advent and Lent before the Rose ones. And then on Christmas and Easter itself, robes of pure White are exchanged for the Rose/Violet. From Purple to Rose to White, the progressive lightening of colours is a visual representation of how our preparations for Easter/Christmas time are supposed to draw us spiritually closer and and fill us with increasing joy at the Resurrection/Birth of Jesus. It culminates with the colour White which of course represents utmost purity and holiness, and its only worn on major occasions like the above two. Green (symbolizing Life) for ordinary masses. Something like that. I think I should've taken notes. But I'm quite certain that Red robes are worn during the feast days of saints who were martyrs (Blood!) and during Good Friday (Passion! Blood!) and Pentecost. Oh and also during Chinese New Year - though this is due mostly to local influence. Well, another piece of random info! The practice of having a relic (usually one belonging to a saint) stored underneath the altar is derived from the very old tradition of the persecuted Christians celebrating Mass in the catacombs using the tombs of martyrs (and there were many then) as their altar. Something else I didn't know: In ancient times when Christians were being persecuted, the symbol of the Fish was commonly used to represent Jesus because apparently the first letters of the words of the Greek phrase 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior' spelt Fish. So they'd clandestinely draw these Fishes on the ground to mark a gathering of Christians celebrating Mass or something cool like that. Hence, the original Greek phrase is sometimes seen emblazoned across the Priest's robes along with what seems like an amalgamation of the letters P and X. Its the first two letters of the Greek word for Christ not 'Pax' (Peace) which some people thought it was.

Anyways, Father Richard Ambrose is giving another talk on August 16th and 17th, 7.45pm at Holy Cross again...I believe they have a talk each month dealing with different areas of the Church. According to the schedule, August's talk is entitled 'Do Catholics Worship Mary? (Part I and II)'. I think these titles are meant to be rhetorical questions? Like 'Is the Mass boring?' because the answers all tend to be a resounding No. In fact he didn't even bother answering/justifying why we should believe the Mass is utterly fascinating at the last talk. He just cut through everything and showed us. Respect! So anyway. Is Mary worshipped? Father invites anyone interested to come, especially non-Catholics who may have misconceptions about Mary.

You know, I heard a really funny anecdote about Mary by Kimberly Hahn who, before she converted, was giving a talk about the Queen Mother in her former church. Feeling threatened by the subject matter, two pastors' wives stood up and sang 'What Child is This?' only they chose to change the last line of chorus 'The Babe, the son of Mary' to 'The Babe, the son of God', cause apparently like, they were afraid if they stuck to the original lyrics people might think she had something to do with it after all. @_@ Haha. But seriously if you have any questions about Mary, I'm happy to help answer any enquiries to the best of my ability :) And No we don't worship her. In the sense I mean our understanding of Worship isn't really songs, prayer and having sermons (which may be what it is for other churches), so maybe that's where part of the confusion arises. If I have been doing my homework correctly, Catholic worship is defined primarily by the celebration of the Eucharist, so you'll never see Mary being given up at the altar. But that's something else altogether.

Ok another announcement! 15th July at 6.38pm and 2 seconds (don't ask me why), the Faculty of Arts Reunion will be held in the Viewing Gallery of ACJC. Cohorts of '03 to '05 are invited. There's food and entertainment. Please come and please spread the word if you're from fART. Thank you!

(You should be getting a soft copy of this poster in your email accounts if you're alumni)

Its late so I'll tell the story of Wykid and Turner tomorrow or something. It was really weird but I felt quite bad about it in retrospect. Another time then, cya!

posted by Jeanne @ 12:12 AM

Frivolous Entry:
How to Reconcile a Shopaholic and a Cheapskate (With great difficulty)

It's the GREAT SINGAPORE SALE!

(Ok fine it's been on for a while)

A month meant for rampant shopping and maxed out credit cards.

And what does this also mean?

More opportunities for me to get ripped off! Because as friends will know, I have earned notoriety for attracting rip-offs and ripper-offers. And a whole lot of other weird experiences when shopping. As such this entry will be dedicated to my woes as a shopper. I know. I sound totally full of it. You probably don't give a damn about what I buy, but I did warn this would be a frivolous entry!

The Rip-Offs
I present exhibit A:

Ok Gwen, I know what you're going to say in true Maggie Smith-from-Gosford-Park fashion:

*Brit accent* Difficult colour, Orange. Whatever are you going to match it with dar-ling?

But fashion is blind Maggie Smith! Or rather, my sense of fashion is blind! And anyway, colour charts aside, wouldn't you say that Orange is such a kicky colour? In fact I bought this for the colour. It is a much needed reprieve from the tame seas of Black, White, Khaki-Bronze and (occassionally when the designers are feeling, you know, edgy), some dull Pink in other shoe stores - Pedal Works and U.R.S, you are both GUILTY of this aberration! I hold you responsible for the holocaust of nice, colourful shoes!

In any case, I don't know what is it with me, I've always had a soft spot for shoes in bright, lurid colours. First it was red shoes...then came the pink slippers phase. Now orange kitten heels. Next will come Green stilettos or something. In fact they did use to have this particular model in Lime Green. Lime Green! I covet it even before I've seen it.

But anyway. My orange heels from Hue.

So there are three glass shelves lined with shoes right? Orange heels on the second shelf along with a big sign stuck to the edge of the shelf announcing '30-50% off'. And so I'm a cheapskate right? And I happen to like orange (hence a convergence of interests). So I make a bee-line toward it. No size 7. Size 6 is a leee-tle tight but can do. There are of course many alternatives when the shoe you adore doesn't come in your ideal size, namely a) look for another equally kicky model with a size 7 b) go to VNC/Ninewest/Aldo/that other shoe shop on the same floor c) go home and sulk or, my personal favourite d) Suffering.

So I choose d) also because there's a 30-50% discount and its in Orange! And I can live with a size 6 if there's a discount, can't I? Of course I can. So I happily tell the nice sales person I'd buy it (thank god the sales people were nice - one saving grace. Apart from the Orange of course) and I swipe my card and I get a nice little bag and I waltz out of the store and I check the bill.

And it's a rip off (by my cheap standards)!!! There was no discount! Not even a measley 5% one! $70 for what is essentially a fancy slipper, that is also last season and orange (difficult colour...) and a size 6 and not even leather or alligator skin or whatever! Ok Fine. The bow is leather but that's like 1/10 of its entire square area. Now what justifies this Hue? I would like to know. Particularly after your glaring sign which promised a discount.

So I go back to get to the bottom of this agonizing mystery. And the reason?

Salesgirl: Oh...the 30-50% sign doesn't apply to the shoes on the second shelf. It applies to the shelf below it.

I am still speechless.

Clearly if you put a huge sign on the second shelf it means that the sign applies to the third shelf! Of course! Silly me. Sigh.

So ironically I have to swallow both option d) and c) - going home to sulk.

Yet another rip-off in my long history of being ripped off. But sometimes during the Great Singapore Sale I don't only get ripped off. I frequently experience -

The Absurd

In question:

No the shoe isn't absurd. Or rather I don't think it is though my brother begs to differ. It was the process of purchasing it that was truly stupid.

I thought this was a nice shoe because of the unusual lilac colour (again I buy for colour). It was a comfortable height and it was lilac. I really loved it. And even by my cheapskate terms it was...cheap. $35 ++ after discount. What's not to love? Gwen was also on the verge of buying a pair of green wedges - even better! Peer pressure! By all accounts, the combination of factors was conducive and would've induced me to buy this pair. And what happens?

No buy.

Gwen doesn't even buy her much coveted green wedges.

We went home and thought we'd done a good thing by, you know, saving precious money for our expensive university educations and keeping C down so that G and I and X-M would compensate for GDP growth (sorry non-Econs students). But it was that same night when we learnt an important lesson in the art of shopping. Namely. Guilt lasts maybe. 45 minutes.

But Regret lasts a Lifetime.

I was telling Stephanie about the no-buy the next day over MSN and she thought I'd gone temporarily mad.

So wracked with Regret, Gwen and I made a second voyage to Raffles City to buy the damn shoes and experienced belated happiness. We thought the whole thing was pretty silly. But there you go. Now I've got Lilac shoes to add to my colourful arsenal.

The Agony

This technically falls under option c) again.

Well you'll notice there's no picture for this because I couldn't bring myself to buy it. Not without a discount!!

'It' refers collectively to i) The drop waist dress from Mango and ii) the cream/navy blue tube dress from Warehouse. Both perfection. Both exorbitant. The spirit of the Great Singapore Sale (that is to make life easier and more cost effective for consumers like me) clearly doesn't exist in either outlets.

I think The Agony could have been averted if I had walked out of the shop with my head held high and never have had to see either dresses again. But no. Fate is cruel and mocks me. 2 days later at MOS I see someone else wearing the same Mango Dress on the dancefloor! Ok a part of me is thinking Well I'm glad I'm not wearing the same thing she's wearing but an even larger part of me is going Why Cursed Fate??? Why does it parade and remind me of what I can't have?? Similarly, 3 days after Warehouse, I go meet Gwen and we pass by yet another Warehouse outlet. This time, the manequin at the store window dons The Dress I am Fated Never to Have! Sigh.

The HeartBreak.

When gift-giving for my boyfriend. Apt or ironic? The initial damage is always painful but I'm hoping this one-off splurge on a day spa will fade away. I'm calculating that Mediterranean aromatherapy and a jacuzzi (amongst other things) are going to set me back about $500. And even then, that's a sum no where near the crazy 16% tax Spa Botanica charges on top of its already lofty prices. I think that would also go under The Agony. I mean sure, 16% tax but check this: a Javanese Lulur package! I don't know what on earth that means but I sure would love a 'lavish flower petal bath' in the middle of a pavillion . Sigh.

I need a money tree.

All I can say is that. It better be one helluva Swedish Massage.

posted by Jeanne @ 11:43 PM