Being the Bimbo III (No More)

I’m officially ending my taitai stint and stop living the high life.

I’m just too good at it.

Friday night: $65 pedicure at Dashing Diva and got very flushed by sipping a complimentary Cosmopolitan, followed by $59 (for two pax) Tony Romas very late night dinner.

Saturday: $189 for a very soft washed-out red leather shoulder bag (love at first sight) from Country Road, $129 x2 JWest shoes: a lovely pair of blood red ballerina pumps with requisite tiny ribbon and diamond studded, as well as a pair of very high working stiletto heels in gorgeous royal purple. $19.50 very sweet Future State camisole. Throw in taitai tea at Copenhagen: $23 per person.

I spent close to $600 in two days. *gulp* Well, the camisole was bought after a 50% discount and I had a free JWest bag as part of the deal. As Geraldine’s boyfriend said calmly without batting an eyelid, the bag totally justified my purchase. I’m sorry we had met under such monstrous circumstances – he came to retrieve/claim the girlfriend at night and she was actually the person eyeing the shoes, except there were none in her size for the heels and she couldn’t decide which colour for the pumps. Me, I just grabbed first and think later (the purple heels were the last of its kind).

It’s all Geraldine’s fault. Besides, if I hadn’t gone shopping earlier while waiting for her, I would NEVER have come across the (also) last of that Country Road bag, and bought it with nary a consideration either.

I know. How atrocious. I’m very contrite. Hence, my decision to live like a heartlander does for the whole of November.

Right after I’ve bought that Espirit tote bag and shawl (only two digits) tomorrow. (Stop me, Ruth!!!)

Thereafter, I shall be totally austere. Really.

Argh. Taitai-dom is too easy-peasy.

And this is the third and last entry in the trilogy of Bimbo-hood.

It was fun while it lasted.

Being The Bimbo II

I haven’t seen Geraldine for years. She was my best friend in DHS 2I. We have only met twice since we graduated from there. Once during the Nov/Dec vacation of JC1 during which we watched the sneak preview of Titanic and teared (I stand by that it is the greatest movie ever made, story and technique wise). The last time was when she came back from Cornell and just before we both started serving our respective bonds.

Even with the years, distances and many new found close (and closer) friends between us, we always have a kind of connection that makes it very easy to pick up from where we left, like it was only yesterday.

Thanks to Minxiu who got me her number during his DHS 4A chalet (Geraldine and I lost our handphones and with them, went everything else) very recently, we have since resumed very, very friendly ties.

In fact, we have arranged to be young taitai-s together next week. First stop – Dashing Diva for manicure & pedicure, shopping, maybe visit the spa, having tea @Royal Copenhagen, lunch or dinner @Marmalade Pantry.

*

I do find it sad that my life has been reduced to consuming and that what drives me is a superficial desire to own, to conquer, to look pretty and to live decadently the good life.

Does that mean money is very important now?

Another scholar bites the dust. I mean, broke her bond. She became a banker. Maybe it’s the pay.

Will I be happier if I own a Coach wallet? Or a Coach *whatever*?

Not necessarily, but I would be very pleased if I can actually buy one without needing to argue with my inner prudent self.

As it is, I can only manage a $75 mango cardigan thoughtlessly. Yup, that's my buy for the day.

Being The Bimbo

Today, I role-played a young taitai.

Cabbed to town and back.

Bought my first pair of Birkenstock. I have never bought shoes nor sandals so expensive before. My last 3-digit figure was paid towards my boots. And even that was cheaper than these Birkies. But my, aren’t they pretty?

Had my heart set on a Coach wallet. I was mentally doing my sums, for I had neglected to confirm whether the website prices were in Sing dollars. Still, I figured even if it’s double the price, I can still consider in its favour.

My goodness, what I like costs S$575!!! WTF. I can stay and shop in Bangkok for a week for that kind of money. I will probably buy back my Boring Braun Buffel. Hopefully no longer in black leather.

It sure ain’t cheap to be a taitai. But then for a taitai, I’m pretty low-maintenance already.

It’s scary how much I spent this month. Yes, living way beyond my means.

The really meaningful existential question: When can I buy a Coach wallet without a second or third thought???

Of Legal Sharks & Media Hounds

It is an axiom that the media wields more power than the law. But lawyers and law-makers can’t bring themselves to believe this universal (and self-evident) maxim. Hence, they insist on challenging us to a debate with this motion last evening, thereby setting up their inevitable humiliation and ruin on stage.

Of course, having Kumar and Joe Augustin as the speakers helped immensely, Then again, the law team has no lack of infamous personalities like SCs Chelva Rajah and Philip Jeyaretnam. Even Adrian Tan (author of The Teenage Textbook) was One Of Them.

Whatever. We win. The media won. So. Don’t mess with us.

Mr Veins was there too as a last minute decision. I was pleased to see him at the pre-event cocktail. From afar, I looked on with curiosity at the smattering of people he spoke to. Were they his colleagues? There was a very tall girl talking to him. Hmmm. Shyly (yes, shyly, not traumatized or anything) I turned away and pretended to fiddle with my handphone. Very shortly after, he walked up me and asked if I have eaten. But my mock fascination with phone has become real. My supervisor, whom I love and respect dearly, has arrived and I needed to meet her. So I hurriedly excused myself when he was nudging me towards the food table. When I walked past him again, with her by my side and a disposable cup of red wine in my hand, I glanced up and he had a blank expression on his face. I think he motioned at me to follow him and sit together with his friend (male) when he walked past my seat again and caught me waving happily at him. But I couldn’t. And indeed, why should I.

Whatever. We win!!! Ha, now I can lord over him with this little victory. My profession is the best (Even if his pay is comparably much, much higher than mine as a DPP).

That reminds me, I am supposed to redeem a lunch/dinner treat from him. When we were betting who is more earning more moolah. Well, I will save it for a really rainy day.

I’m sorry that he is always so buried in his work. He went straight back to office after the event ended, which was past 10pm by then.

But I don’t care. I have my own plans. That is, meeting Ryan, YQ and YQ’s female companion in Jazz@South Bridge. Continuously spewing happy nonsense like a 女中豪杰, pretending to be 淑女 by drinking camomile tea in the bar, ending up at Geylang for Dim Sum midnight supper and all, I can have my own adventures, thank you very much.

Addendum: In midst of being self-congratulatory, I wonder all over again whether it is a tragedy that I’m so independent and self-sufficient by both choice and circumstance, with regards to Mr Veins. If he should ever want more of me, and I of him, seriously, that’s gonna pose a problem.

From The Teenage Textbook

I received a surprise phonecall a couple of nights ago. Surprise because rare it is, these days, that people actually make real calls instead of resorting to smses, emails, icq, and what have you. Rarer it is, that someone dialed from his house phone to reach you on your mobile.

Me: Hello!

He: Hi! You know who I am?

Me: Erm…yah? I know who you are.

He: Oh, you have my house number? *pause*And caller ID?

(I can imagine him kicking himself for sprouting such killer lines as the preamble)

Me: Well, you have called me from home before.

Haha. Makes me laugh just to recollect the exchange.

Don’t ask me. But I’m pretty sure it was an innocuous phonecall, just that somehow, I felt this “phonecall” can be a scene straight out of The Teenage Textbook, in which Cheung Kai was trying to brace himself to call Mui Ee (his crush) and guessing what’s a good and proper time to call. Advice from The Teenage Textbook (yes, it is an extremely tongue-in-cheek novel with plenty and self-deprecating and self-referential remarks, a smarty-pants story in short, a novel that refers to itself to dish out well-meaning advice – often backfiring – to people with crushes, people who are its protagonists. There’s the wonderful sequel called, what else, The Teenage Workbook. Very well-written and witty stories with a strong and engaging local flavour. But back to me) says one should always call after 8pm, any earlier she will be having dinner and watching TV. So checked.

Overjustification. Checked.

Attempts to ensure a steady streaming of conversation. Checked.

Attempts to prolong. Checked.

Anyway I told him to call my house because I was at home and then we combed the SISTIC website together (albeit separately in the comfort of our individual homes) to get Rent tickets. We have bought first tier, yay!

I feel good.

Beyond The Story Live 2005

曾经满载了希望 你我会有天冲开黑暗
谁知再次的失望 看这里已经走到尽头
望着你走远我并没有心酸
唯望天边一方它朝可重逢

oh para paradise只想跟你一起一起走向这一天
oh para paradise风中希冀一点今天一再想起你

宁可永远的等待 也怕背弃当初的一切
如今你远走彼岸 告诉我哪边天色好吗

My heart stopped for a moment as I heard the first strains of rock music. Damn, damn, damn. I had just stepped out of the car and the stadium was still a distance away. Minxiu was incredulous when I insisted the concert must have begun. Hey, it’s only 8.20pm, he reminded.

Yes, it’s only 8.20pm. Concerts held at the Indoor Stadium never start on time. Never. Count yourself lucky if it starts half an hour later. I have waited for an hour before.

This is actually my first time running late. I’m usually seated the 15 minutes before. And of course, since Murphy’s Law always applies, the concert happily ran without me!!! Ahhhhhh.

I missed 1.5 songs, after checking with the rabid fan next to me. Okay. I can live with that.

*

Concert: Beyond The Story Live 2005
Ticket Price: $148 (top tier premiere seat)

Notable points:

(1) I willingly forked out the money to listen to what I presumed correctly will be mainly Cantopop. And I do not understand Cantonese. At all.

(2) I own 4 Beyond CDs but the actual Beyond songs I am familiar with do not exceed 10, of which more than half are Chinese hits.

(3) This is blasphemous (and really unacceptable), but I can still confuse 家 强 with 贯 中 – After so many years, I still think that the resemblance between the two is stronger than 家 强 and 家 驹.

(4) I find 世 荣 to be most attractive but prefer 贯 中’s power voice.

(5) I still remember how I got wind of 家 驹’s death – it was early morning and I was on my way to Dunman High (when it hasn’t shifted to Tanjong Rhu), and people around me on the bus were talking about it. I couldn’t believe it and sought confirmation.

(6) I was never a Beyond fan, but I love what they represented and the fact they had tried to change the world through the songs, some of which are political (I adore 长 城 to death).

Point 6 was reason enough for me to buy the most expensive tickets on the first day of public sales. No regrets, really. They are the very last surviving and living iconic Hong Kong personalities since the demise of Leslie and Anita, and even longer back, Danny (Seriously, Minxiu, with all due respect, I don’t think Jackie Cheung counts – It’s all about Cantopop in its heydays and Jackie wasn’t quite there, then, yet). Henceforth, we can only be nostalgic about a lost era that we are made to be fonder of because we can only imagine and believe how glorious it was, having never participated or created it.

It was strange. But since Beyond started their music career in 1983, I would imagine most of their fans to be in late thirties or so. But the fans around Minxiu and I were all looking our age. Very bizarre. Are they, like me, also haunted (or more likely, seduced) by the illusory loveliness of an imagined period, made all the more haunting because of a hankering after what is not here, not now, and never in-the-present. I’m not sure why Minxiu went either. He is definitely not a Beyond fan and probably knows less songs than I do, and might possibly not own any Beyond CDs. So. That’s the power of the band. What great draw you must possess to get people who never even know your songs to buy the priciest concert tickets to catch you in action. What icons you must be; how evocative and provocative you must be, to manifest yourselves into these meanings and representations that matter to the majority.

The majority was a full house. Every single freaking seat was filled up. Well for my kinda seats, they were empty, cos every single freaking person was standing up, right from the start. Urgh! The perils of being tiny. I had to be on my toes throughout just to catch 家 强 and 贯 中 playing and jamming, if I so chose to ignore help from the big screens. 世 荣 was on a raised platform but his handsome mug was constantly blocked by his drum sets and half shadowed attractively by long dirty blond locks. Our seats were very good (I was right in front of 家 强), but not good enough, thanks to my lack of height.

The three forty something men played up the three ideal male images tonight. 贯 中 was the sullen cooler than cool punk rocker with his tattooed and veined (yay!) arms. 世 荣 was the archetypal charismatic strong silent drifter (very Japanese appearance) who made himself heard through his drumming and the occasional crooning of a slow love song during which he took centrestage. 家 强 was the decent, serious Prince Charming with an edge in well-pressed, long-sleeved shirts. Very nice visual contrast as he powered through the heavy rock numbers and easily eased himself into the sentimental ballads.

In between songs, clips of a younger Beyond were flashed. We pedaled lightly through the years, and saw 家 驹 again, heard his voice and remembered. There will always be unkind critics who questioned the motives of such playback. I see this as respect, tribute and devotion. He was the leader of the band after all. He wrote most of their material. He wasn’t supposed to leave so early in life. There were some people who cried when they saw and heard 家 驹 again.

*

Having neither the All Access or Media pass in my possession this time, I shamelessly sms-ed my friend covering the event to sneak me in backstage or invite me to any post-concert reception and/or party. But invites and passes were tightly controlled, so. Sigh. My friend promised to send me pictures though. Hey, autographs plus posters hor, if you can, I added.

Just not my night, I guess.

In addition to being the Concert that started the earliest in the history of Concerts, Beyond The Story Live 2005 was also the Concert without an Encore and the shortest Concert ever, clocking at 2 hours and 20 mins, usually concerts by superstars last a lot longer.

*

Questions: Why have they separated in the first place? Have they finally depleted their idealism after more than two decades of fighting for, against and with The Establishment? Are they throwing in the towel?

I don’t care.

If it helps, in some silent, quiet way, since they would never know, they are and will always be an inspiration to me.

今天我寒夜里看雪飘过怀著冷却了的心窝飘远方风雨里追赶
雾里分不清影踪天空海阔你与我 可会变(谁没在变)

多少次迎著冷眼与嘲笑从没有放弃过心中的理想一刹那恍惚
若有所失的感觉不知不觉已变淡 心里爱(谁明白我)

原谅我这一生不羁放纵
爱自由也会怕有一天会跌倒
被弃了理想谁人都可以
那会怕有一天只你共我

仍然自由自我 永远高唱我歌 走遍千里

It's Raining Veins & Dimples

Me: Don’t forget to write me into your will. You hoard so much money, it will be a pleasure to be your friend when you are dead.

Mr Veins: I will give you all my organs.

Me: Are they, or, will they, be in excellent condition?

Mr Veins: Yes.

Me: *makes a face* Don’t want. I hope I never need them.

*

Mr Veins asked if I preferred Japanese or Fish and when I squeaked”Japanese??” in disbelief, he promptly swept me to Bon Gout, this quaint Japanese book café for dinner. It’s tucked away in a little known corner of Robertson Quay.

I hated the food, by the way.

*

Mr Veins comes without fuss or frills. I’m still trying to decide whether to put a premium on plain weirdness in the light of his devotion to “plan for me” and dedication to “irritate hell outta me.”

The thing is, there are people who are very nice to me in a normal way. I really shouldn’t be penalizing them for acting normally nice and nicely normal.

*headache*

I’m a girl. I like it when people fuss over me. It’s natural, lah.

The Vein-ity

Being bored, and the evilly comparing and capricious creature that I occasionally am when it comes to relationships, I sent the exact same message meant for Mr Dimples to Mr Veins one week later, if only to see how differently the two would react.

I tapped very simply, for a loaded gesture out to test, and fail.

Dinner this week? + smiley

Mr Dimples, in true Briton fashion, promptly enthused most encouragingly and appealingly, saying he was free the whole week. He asked me in turn, how my work schedule was like, and that he has no particular place in mind but he does enjoy going to Siglap area to hang out.

That was very nice, and subsequently, we did have a great time as usual.

On to Mr Veins:

Now I know that I have said countlessly that I will ignore Mr Veins but it is just so difficult. It’s part Vanity and pure stupid Belief, that I believe he still Adores-Me-To-Death and that some things don’t change, that I don’t mind giving him a chance to prove that. Over and over again.

It’s hateful, and embarrassing, and perhaps, rewarding despite everything. Sometimes, I manage to convince myself it’s all very casual and we are indeed only friends without thinking and developing any further, that we really don’t have that hovering in the background when together. Which was also weighing on my mind as I sent that.

A day later -

Mr Veins: I’m afraid that’s not too possible. Fairly bogged down this week. Sorry.

Upon receiving that, I rolled my eyes. How positively disgusting.

Me: Yuck. You are doing it on purpose! How about next week?

Two days later -

Mr Veins: My schedule has finally been settled for next week. Early next week is fine. Yes, I had do it on purpose…

A day later –

Me: Obviously, You had do it on purpose, I’m sure. Losing your grip on grammar and reality in the course of work, I see. How about Monday? You have a place in mind?

A day later –

Mr Veins: No place in mind as of yet, to be revealed in due course…

I was tempted to reply: You mean things have not changed? We are still on this?

But I curbed The Finger.

I guess part of the excitement and fun in going out with Mr Veins is always the surprise element he insists upon. No many guys can match or even beat that. I can leave it to him to plan and be assured of a relatively memorable time. Yes, he spoils the market and sets a kind of standard that is ridiculous for someone who is not a lover.

And then there’s the longstanding familiarity and intimacy. By that, I mean we have eased into a comfortable exchange of words and body language that we recognized to be peculiar to The Other that we appreciate and in turn, tailor-made one’s language and gestures in response that builds up to a private communication that we both enjoy. I can be as rude as hell and vice versa but it has never served permanent damage, only highlighting an odd ability to be honest and ridiculous over any and every thing under the sun. It helps that we always hang out as a twosome.

It was traumatic when I thought I had to end it once but the thought of never being privy to his weirdness again, never being in his presence ever again, put an end to my putting an end to things. Well. Now I try to temper and educate Desire with Pride. Usually Pride wins, but this time, it’s Desire, and of course, Vanity, which is Pride in a sense, so. Can I say I am having the best of both worlds?

This is a boring and neurotic post. Yuck.

The Little Girl

My supervisor is taking me to this Law-Media Debate, motion being “The Media Holds More Power Than The Law.” Lots of Young Lawyers there, she nodded approvingly at my other favourite colleague who smiled most conspiratorially, The Little Girl must go, without realizing the irony of my trying to wean off contact with The Lawyer. Wait, Mr Veins ain’t a lawyer, yet, I don’t think he ever served out his pupilage. All right then, maybe A Lawyer is better than The Prosecutor any day and I shouldn’t tar lawyers just because one was unbecoming to begin with. And yes, I’m known as The Little Girl in code office language.

*

I looked at my colleague in mock horror when she happily assured our Japanese partners that we don’t need an interpreter because I can do it, for my command of Japanese language is very good. Yes, I was very good, then I stopped learning, speaking and writing because there were no avenues or reasons to, and I am reduced to basics. I still have the essential kawaii intonation of desu yo, ne and all though. Nevertheless, time to go through my Japanese and not embarrass myself when native speakers start yakking yak at me. Zenbu dekimasu!

*

Turns out I do know the DPP handling the seditious case. She’s from my JC. Ruth will know her better though, as they were classmates for two years. Really, people I know are constantly making headlines. I do too, literally, but in a most indirect way, which is how I like to keep it for the time being.

Never Crossed

As I have written before, I’m unlikely to attend his wedding (if it ever takes place with the same female of affection), mostly because of bridal objections, and probably his inherent embarrassment and guilt. Our paths will never cross again. We have, somehow, manage to avoid bumping into each other, without intending to, for the past 2 years or so. His number has been deleted and I, on the other hand, have been curt and rude enough, in no uncertain terms, the times he has tried to communicate, to get the message across: Leave me alone.

Then again, it seems like we may see one another after all.

I have received confirmed news from girlfriend G, whom I love dearly, that G is getting officially married *gulp* in December. So my crazy little mind, so deprived of the ascetic Philo and the aesthetic Lit once so accustomed to the critical heaviness, now reasons lightly that she is G’s best friend (yes, that was how complex things were back then) from JC and will definitely be there, with him. If so, I need to look my best in two months. Renewed motivation to accomplish a lot of things by then.

Nothing beats a desire to be small and to spite, and be smaller, still.

Ahhhh!!! So loser!!!! I am indignant at my clichéd reaction but no less determined to make the situation work in my favour.

I try to remember G’s happiness should supercede my own selfish thoughts, or worse, plotting. Sigh.

On Cheese and Children

Mr Dimples: How can you not eat the brinjals? I love the brinjals here! They are the best!

Me: *mock shudder* Fine, eat my share, please. PLEASE.

Mr Dimples: You have to eat one piece!

*

In the end, we went for niang doufu, as YQ was sick. I still don’t care much for niang doufu, even if it’s supposedly the best. Bland, really, and at 50cents per piece, it was daylight robbery. Plus, I don’t do brinjals, or chillies either, for that matter, and no amount of meat stuffing inside them is gonna con me into eating them.

Inane conversation followed. A threesome is always enjoyable, especially when two very pleasant guys are determined to be agreeable and make you happy.

Strolled along the East Coast/Katong stretch all the way to Katong Mall to eat the Awfully Chocolate ice-cream. Living up to its name, it was decadently thick and rich, and I felt quite sick towards the last few spoonfuls.

Then we drove to the cheesecake café and plonked ourselves there till it was almost closing. Apparently, reservations must be made (according to YQ who booked on our behalf). Hmmm, the cheesecakes were nothing to rave about but it is a rather nice place to chill and chat – opens past midnight!

It was altogether a very funny and fun night. But the conversation at the cheesecake café was weirder than weird. No cheese (pardon the pun) but sheer bizarre-ness. Mr Dimples started off this whole thing about how important it is to carry on the line, yes, 传宗接代 (an offshoot that grew to become the main thrust when we were before that, talking about the DHS scholar/senior who got embroiled in a potential scandal – the pregnancy, lah). I think my horrified face revealed how I felt. And in case he didn’t get the full picture (which he didn’t), I calmly explained that I would very much prefer if I have children because of personal choice and that I like the guy enough to put myself through the whole agonizing process. He was somewhat surprised, to put it mildly, that I don’t feel the need or see the importance of 传宗接代ing. Not per se for sure, I’m sure you know what I mean.

So we went on quite a while about that, and some other man/woman issues that were quite complex for a relaxed Friday night. Only stopped when our brains went into simple mode, ie too late and tired.

Thanks to Mr Dimples for driving me home and Best Friend for accompanying me before he picked me up for dinner.

*

Scenario: Taking my shopping stuff from the back seat. Time: 12.40am

Me: Bye and Thanks.

Mr Dimples: *Turning back from the driver’s seat* Wait! How do you pronounce that word on your shopping bag?

Me: Er..Chomel? (NB: I bought two pretty babydoll tops from Chomel that same day)

Mr Dimples: Come again?

Me: Really, you don’t have to know now unless you are buying stuff for a girl. Chomel carries only ladies’ wear and accessories lah.

Me: Okay. Bye!

Mr Dimples: Wait!

Me: Wah lau. What now?

Mr Dimples: *pointing to the bottle of half consumed Ice Mountain which I had bought together with him and YQ* Isn’t that yours?

Me: *rolls eyes but he might have missed it* Yes, you’re absolutely right. But you could just leave it in your car anyway. It is *stressing* nothing incriminating.

Me: Really gotta go! So tired. Good night!

暧昧SAP关系

Now, I don’t find SAP guys, whom I do go out with, repulsive at all. Hell, no. In the looks department, people who know me, will vouch that I do value external pleasantries highly. Being 1.8m tall and having veins, are, part of the package. I am that shallow. No amount of care and concern will make me like you in a particular way if I find you physically repulsive. Actually, I won’t be seeing you at all. So the repulsive-ness would never bother me ‘cos I’m far and safe from it. Steer and stay away.

Neither do I find SAP guys stupid or silly when we are only hanging out as good platonic friends, although there can be Very Exasperating Moments. But they are mostly hilarious more than anything. Think Minxiu. Who is in Shanghai now and can’t comment.

But. When the line becomes increasingly indistinctive, when it seems a relationship is growing beyond that of the platonic, and it involves an SAP guy, usually, things get annoyingly complex.

SAP guys (I really don’t know why, but I wish they could be otherwise) are prone to being risk-averse, and/or repressed to the extent it is near to impossible to confirm how they feel towards the girl. And hypothetically, if the girl is someone like me, who does not, cannot and will not take them seriously until they actually articulate it (and that means I stand firmly by the belief and premise that we are only good platonic friends unless he specifically protests and refutes and overthrows it), no matter how “obvious” signals can be, or encouraging things may seem, I suppose we come to a very dead end. There’s only so far teasing and flirting and furtive, knowing looks can take us, which is not very far, anyway. If you need me to be explicit, I can’t, ‘cos I’m a girl. I really do think you should stop making all these subtle moves that drag on into years, and just end the game. You know, like Checkmate! Then we can go on to play monopoly, or whatever that’s more exciting instead of toeing in circles. Boring version of footsie, really.

To quote myself in an earlier entry:

SAP guys suffer from a chronic disability: They can’t sustain your interest – they can’t hold you long enough. Or even if they appear to be interesting and interested, they send out such befuddled signals that you throw in the towel and run away. Basically, they don’t play by the rules, not because they are fun and adventurous, but because they have no idea what the rules are! That is oh-so-horrible – they don’t know where to start and what to do, and just throws you off and disorientates completely with their aimlessness and lack of oomph.

Which means, I can find the SAP guy immensely appealing and attractive. And it seems we are embarking on a good thing. But the good thing never materialises because, well, because he forgets why he is playing chess in the first place? Somehow, it just doesn’t occur to him to checkmate when the going is still hot and heavy. When he finally plucks out enough guts to end the game officially, the odds are I would have left him and the game before that happens with my chess pieces still standing in cold indignation. What a waste of time. I can’t end the game, isn’t it obvious. You have to, and taking too long will just hasten my walking away from a game that’s a deadlock.

So when I wrote the following:

If I were to be critical, Mr Dimples beams way too much. It’s lethal because he’s blinding me. And he’s so towering! And so nice - so British are his well-mannered ways and sunny disposition. I don’t understand why he’s single. Must be because he was from a SAP school (mine). Even the whole scholar profile, with car, Masters from renowned UK university, very decent defense science career path and all sorts of other worthy, worldly facts can’t compensate for the sick sad SAP past. Eek.

&

Is he from a SAP background. If yes, then heed me, and flee the scene. Or you can continue to see him, but on a strictly no strings attached basis, purely for the pleasure of his company. Don’t even try to figure out his intentions or second guess. Trust me, he doesn’t know himself. He is CONFUSED & IN DENIAL. Attempting to go linear and interpret his gestures is just gonna drive you insane.

It really refers to how the SAP guy is horribly wishy-washy in acknowledging attraction and actively doing something about it, and making it head in a particular direction. It’s a very laidback kind of attitude, that puts the girl through unnecessary duress and stress. Totally avoidable.

As I was telling Lit Hons Grace over Japanese cuisine in Paragon just now, I used to have a very romantic view about such暧昧关系. That we can don’t speak about it directly, but the unspoken is understood and valued. No problem. And It really is A Sign of Trust, Faith and Devotion that we lead separate lives but keep each other closely in mind. It’s not Taking For Granted but a Test we can pass with flying colours because we are so in sync and strongly attached emotionally, that we wouldn’t have to bring it up. When the time is there, we can pick up very naturally from where we are. Of course, over the years, I take issue with the thought. And I have changed my mind. Oh, how I have changed.

For the record, I don’t find anything wrong at all with the SAP girls. I’m one myself. We are a very cool bunch.