wonderment

I can’t believe that I just crossed the 4 month mark of being back. It doesn’t seem so long ago that i left Melbourne and it doesn’t seem so long that I’ve been working! Where did all that time go???

Anyway, I’ve been away from my blog for so long so I owe an explanation.. Let me say it best in pictures:

That’s my boss on the right, Anna the helper in the middle and V my colleague.

Me and mah “baby”

The Boss has been wanting to submit her application portfolio for The Master certification since 2006 but because business has been so brisk, she didn’t really get down to it until recently. (If she becomes The Master in her industry, she’ll be the first person in Asia and the eighth person in the world with that kind of status. It’s BIG.)

So what usually takes one year of data gathering and preparations, we had to pull together in one month! I couldn’t  imagine how it could happen and now that we’ve even managed to package it and Fedex it off to her mentor in America for the first cut … I don’t know, it’s pure thanks to God that we’re still sane.

I was really stressed out today though. I hate doing things like punching holes and cutting tiny bits of paper when I’m rushing for time and then also knowing that I’m forgetting stuff and being asked to “check again”. On top of that, because I was still very tired from the rushing around to print the stuff yesterday, I didn’t really feel very chirpy which Val picked up on immediately. She was such a brick for rallying us when the Boss and I were nearly at each other’s throats and coming in at the last part of the packaging (which I honestly suck in).

The best thing was, I couldn’t help but tear a bit when i thanked her for her help  through SMS and she replied that I would do the same for her too.

For a while, I’ve been wondering if V really liked me. Perhaps it’s my self-awareness in overdrive but I sometimes wonder if she sees me as a threat to her relationship with the Boss. After all, she has always worked for the Boss alone.

I remember her warning me not so subtly when I first came, saying that she would not “sabo” me because she will “die” from the work and then I shouldn’t “sabo” her because then I would suffer with additional work to do. Not a very welcoming thing to say for a new colleague but I grew to love her ability to be super frank and quick-thinking in the tightest situations. She was never inherently evil and always helped me with things I didn’t know and things I messed up so I wouldn’t get blasted by the Boss.

So to be recognised by her like that today, it made me happy to tears.
At the end of it all, my “baby” is just but a pile of papers. It’s not my effort alone because so many others contributed to it. However, for my colleague to see me as someone who will support her and not sabo her, and for my boss to see that there’s more to me than just plain forgetfulness and laziness is the best thing that could come out of this project.

I also love it that the Boss gave me time off tomorrow morning. I think she meant I was to rest (I must have looked a wreck!) but I have to run a ton of errands, applying for my driving test, closing my bank account, registering for my Grad Diploma course (that’s another story), going to check out my friend’s boutique … what rest?

He he.

I had my first cup of freshly brewed coffee with a generous spoonful of condensed milk.

All I can say? Beautiful.

To the coffeeholic, there’s really nothing to shout about, but to the person who doesn’t touch coffee after an absolutely nauseating experience at a certain coffee joint she used to work at, this is a big deal.

I complained to Anna how tired I was feeling and she quickly retreated into the kitchen. “I will make you a cup of coffee with condensed milk, very nice. You won’t feel tired anymore.” I tried to refuse, telling her about how pukey I feel after drinking coffee, but she told me to just try.

3 heaped tablespoonfuls of fresh coffee powder (I learned you always store coffee beans in the freezer to keep its original taste) and boiling water that was a little cooled later, I got an aromatic cup of coffee.

I was skeptical right up to taking my first sip, and after that I was totally sold. Downed the entire cup in one go. So gorgeous. And now I can’t drink cheap coffee anymore.
——

What was the last post about you might ask?

Let’s just say, I know now, that in everything I need to confirm with an external party, I must write an email with the details, even if it’s as seemingly simple as a telecon date and time. I’ve been doing that all these while, but I don’t understand why I didn’t this time.

Client calls at 9am (even before I have stepped into the office) and expects to talk to my boss. I’m not even in the office and say I’ll call back in 5 minutes. I distinctly remember it’s 10am, and try to check my email for some proof. I cannot find it and my heart sinks to my toes.I have to rearrange another timing because my boss wasn’t at her desk yet (if you know what I mean). I call and the next timing he can possibly speak, is 930am.

905…915..920 … no sight of her. I grow incredibly antsy and at 925, I can’t take it any longer and knock on her door. Thankfully she’s ready to go and we make the call at 930am.

I tell you, if I can survive this job, I can survive ANYTHING.

Well, almost.

Can someone kill me now?

How could I have made that kind of mistake? *Note to Ruth: SEND A FOLLOWUP EMAIL TO COVER YOUR A*S!!!

Today is one of those days that are so slow I feel like checking on out of here and going home. I finished most of my work early this week and today I’ve no emails, no calls, and no work to do.

Everyone is probably feeling the same way I do. I’ve a record number of Facebook additions today.

Big yawn.

On the other hand, I just heard that a friend who had gone to Brisbane to study passed away in her apartment 2 days ago. She was in her early thirties. Life is so frail.

The ginseng chicken soup my dad cooked on Friday has given me a huge, red pimple on, of all places, my chin. Ripe enough to pop, yet I can’t because it’ll ruin my makeup and probably get even more infected.

Too heaty!

Cheryl’s wedding was a blast. When you know the bride on a personal level and have loved her like a sister, seeing her married to a guy you know who will protect her is very nice.

It’s 421am in the morning and I am still up. 2 deep talks with 2 very important people in my life has created a buzz in my head. Of joy and the surety of knowing that come what may, (even though I may be at a loss for words or I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about), I can still count on them to love me no matter what.

I thank God for them. : )

Now that’s something to smile about.

What a random subject to write about on my first entry after a long hiatus that totally caught me unawares?

I would like to explain why I was caught “unawares” but it’s too long a story that I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested in. Essentially, life catches up and I don’t have the time nor energy to write.

But something happened today! And I got home early, so I can write.

I’ve (rather cheekily) told some people I know that I’m “part Eskimo, part Dutch royalty and a little bit of Indonesian blood” when asked why I don’t look totally Chinese. In Malaysia, I’ve had shopkeepers speak to me in Malay and my Australian lecturers used to ask if I was Chinese.

For the record, my parents say I’m 100% Chinese, but who knows right? Maybe along the way when my ancestors migrated to Singapore, there was some Caucasian influence?

Furthermore, today, I met Alison, our Australian hair stylist whom we use sometimes for training. The backstory to this is:  I’ve been having a never-ending battle with my hair since Day One. Previously, I pulled and tugged my hair into place trying to achieve the 70s bee-hive look to give my flat head some shape. But I feared that by the time I hit 30 I may have lost all my hair, so I decided to get my hair cut, hoping by some miraculous stroke of divine intervention, my hair would listen to me and stop acting like a spoilt 7-year old.

So I had my hair cut last weekend and at the salon it blew me away - very soft and feature-accentuating, when styled properly. Once I wash it away and have to style it myself …. ho ho ho …. welcome BAD hair day. I managed it all right yesterday which got me lots of comments but today, tres terrible! My mid-length bangs were sweeping into my eyes (which my boss absolutely detests) and the humid, heavy weather totally fried my wispy ends to unruliness.

It so turned out that Alison had come to do the VIP’s hair for a BT interview and I so happened to be in the room talking to my boss when she came in. The boss talked to her a bit about her own hair when she turned to me and proceeded to tell Alison about my entire hair history and asked her to have a look at it.

I was embarrassed to say the least , but hey, what the heck, free advice, don’t want to take ah?

So she sat me down and walked me through all my hair habits and taught me how to wash my hair (twice, massage, don’t scratch) and told me that the stylist had over texturised my hair (I knew it. The stylist was using a blade t0 lop off most of my hair when actually that really hurts your hair shaft and makes your hair dry and flyaway. A proper stylist uses a good sharp scissors.)

Then she told me a strange thing, “You have Caucasian hair.” Double take. First people tell me I have mixed looks and now, for the first time, someone tells me I’ve got hair like an AngMoh? “Very fine and very lightweight, your hair isn’t suited to be overtexturised. Chinese hair is coarser and stylists texturise to take away the weight, but when you take away weight from your hair, you’re left with nothing.”

Now I get it. I loved my hair salon in Australia even though it was a training academy. They knew exactly how to cut my hair so that it would fall just nicely. People used to say that Caucasians didn’t know how to cut Asian hair and told me never to go to an AngMoh stylist but I just had to try … and loved it! No wonder I don’t really have a stylist in Singapore, they don’t know how to cut my hair!

Alison is going to help me save my hair a little bit on Sunday. I’ll have to go to her house, and she’s going to help me retouch my roots too! Whee!

So 3 reasons why I am really an AngMoh in disguise:

1. My hair’s really blonde, the pigment just got a bit whacked and came out black for some reason.
2. No matter how hard I try, I sound like an Angmoh when I speak Chinese
3. I can only buy clothes that fit me and look half decent in Target, ValleyGirl and BigW.

Bah, what am I doing in Singapore?