Only Thing To Do Is Jump Over The Moon
Number Officially Recognised Credit Cards that I own: 3
Type: Citibank Platinum Card, Citibank Platinum Dividend Card (Visa & Master)
Amount of Usage so far: Nil on all three cards
All expenses are charged universally to my UOB Campus card, the pseudo Visa for the student which I am admittedly no longer. No, I don’t have the ladies card from UOB or DBS either. I suspect it all boils down to a strange aversion to learn how to pay my credit card bills. I have dismissed various opportunities to use the Citibank cards for discounts at shops like Espirit and Dorothy Perkins. Dismissed as in poo-pooed – oh it’s only 10% less – as I casually convince myself paying $6 - $10 more per item is justifiable because the disadvantage of inconvenience outweighs the savings. Staying stubbornly ignorant, I have not yet to solve the mystery of payment and commit to its mastery. Now, how sad and tragic and lazy can a person be.
(I did attempt to apply for the UOB Ladies Card last promotional month. But apparently I missed out some info and the bank has since sent 4 letters of reminders with regards to the omission. I thought I sent – Minxiu, you posted for me remember. And being too lethargic to call and be put through forever the automatic voice system before reaching a real human, I have procrastinated asking. Well why couldn’t the bloody bank just call instead of sending out letters so insistently.)
Anyway, I just discovered that cards are useless when shopping at Suntec this GSS. Unless you have the DBS Amex (another black card). The pretty thing I lust after prefers the Amex. I don’t get it. Neither does UOB. Time to scourge my home for that invitation application mailer that I chucked aside in April. Wait. But I can’t wait. Damn. I shall place a deposit for the item and grab someone with an Amex. And there’s someone perfect for the occasion.
Me: Free for dinner anytime soon around Suntec/nearby areas? I need to borrow your Amex card. Suntec is an unfriendly place. It discriminates against non-Amex shoppers. Alas.
Mr Dimples: Ha. Unfortunately I’m occupied for these 2 days. Expected to be very busy over next two weeks for contract discussion. Only days I can think of is next weekend.
Me: Sunday? 30% off is no joking matter. You’ll be helping me to save an additional whopping $30++. I enjoy no credit card clout and stand to gain only 20% rebate like the average shopper.
Mr Dimples: Haha. Okay.
1 min later -
Mr Dimples: Hey. You're extravagant. You must be targeting something that costs 400 something!
Me: Oops. I see you did your math. The big item costs $300 before discounts set in. But I'm a financially independent lady with a gentleman friend in possession of an Amex card ok.
I love playing the part of a weak-willed woman, entirely susceptible to pretty things and handsome beings. It helps me to unwind, big time.The big item in question is an amber bracelet with an abundance of sea creature charms (star fish, tortoise, sea horse).
Would probably pop over to the Art Museum to check the Fiction @Love exhibition while I have the time to offset the inherent bimbotic tendencies imploding from within.
*
I’ve often wished I resemble your average Singapore girl physically. In the Singapore context, this means conscripting into the impossible ubiquitous army made up of women with swinging, sleek, straight tresses and the requisite brown or auburn streaks, who are really pencil slim, immaculately mascara-ed and eye-lined.
Making changes to my hair (besides I like it black and curly, usually) violate my principles and being slim offends the academic pretensions of sensible feminism. So.
I guess I could try to be mascara-ed and eye-lined by professionals. That’s my big concession of the week. With that, I dragged April to sign up for the Secret Glam Red Earth party that includes well, a party at mezebar at Mandarin Hotel; the essential goodie bag and a makeover cum photo shoot. Yes, my first makeover. Whoopee!! I wonder which movie star I resemble.
Fast forward 30 minutes -
Me: I think I look like a deranged rock chick gone goth. I can't believe they did this to me. Why can't I have normal hair. *wails*
(The evil ones have given me big hair. Big hair, with a very side parting. My eyes look funny. I couldn’t decide whether the smudges were an intentional fixture to make me gothic or they were achieved as a dire consequence of my fidgeting. I was so sure the eye liner pencil was gonna blind me)
April: you look very glamourous, really. You are just not used to the look lah.
Me: *accusatory* How come you look sane and normal? How come your hair looks ok?
*proceeds to toilet to wash out the globs of gel that have been massaged into my hair*
It took me 6 cotton pads soaked with make-up removal liquid to get the glitter and colour off my face and eyes.
I think I’m one of those unfortunate souls who look terrible in proper make-up. Sigh. Please excuse my nudity.
Such are the risky ventures over the weekend.
Type: Citibank Platinum Card, Citibank Platinum Dividend Card (Visa & Master)
Amount of Usage so far: Nil on all three cards
All expenses are charged universally to my UOB Campus card, the pseudo Visa for the student which I am admittedly no longer. No, I don’t have the ladies card from UOB or DBS either. I suspect it all boils down to a strange aversion to learn how to pay my credit card bills. I have dismissed various opportunities to use the Citibank cards for discounts at shops like Espirit and Dorothy Perkins. Dismissed as in poo-pooed – oh it’s only 10% less – as I casually convince myself paying $6 - $10 more per item is justifiable because the disadvantage of inconvenience outweighs the savings. Staying stubbornly ignorant, I have not yet to solve the mystery of payment and commit to its mastery. Now, how sad and tragic and lazy can a person be.
(I did attempt to apply for the UOB Ladies Card last promotional month. But apparently I missed out some info and the bank has since sent 4 letters of reminders with regards to the omission. I thought I sent – Minxiu, you posted for me remember. And being too lethargic to call and be put through forever the automatic voice system before reaching a real human, I have procrastinated asking. Well why couldn’t the bloody bank just call instead of sending out letters so insistently.)
Anyway, I just discovered that cards are useless when shopping at Suntec this GSS. Unless you have the DBS Amex (another black card). The pretty thing I lust after prefers the Amex. I don’t get it. Neither does UOB. Time to scourge my home for that invitation application mailer that I chucked aside in April. Wait. But I can’t wait. Damn. I shall place a deposit for the item and grab someone with an Amex. And there’s someone perfect for the occasion.
Me: Free for dinner anytime soon around Suntec/nearby areas? I need to borrow your Amex card. Suntec is an unfriendly place. It discriminates against non-Amex shoppers. Alas.
Mr Dimples: Ha. Unfortunately I’m occupied for these 2 days. Expected to be very busy over next two weeks for contract discussion. Only days I can think of is next weekend.
Me: Sunday? 30% off is no joking matter. You’ll be helping me to save an additional whopping $30++. I enjoy no credit card clout and stand to gain only 20% rebate like the average shopper.
Mr Dimples: Haha. Okay.
1 min later -
Mr Dimples: Hey. You're extravagant. You must be targeting something that costs 400 something!
Me: Oops. I see you did your math. The big item costs $300 before discounts set in. But I'm a financially independent lady with a gentleman friend in possession of an Amex card ok.
I love playing the part of a weak-willed woman, entirely susceptible to pretty things and handsome beings. It helps me to unwind, big time.The big item in question is an amber bracelet with an abundance of sea creature charms (star fish, tortoise, sea horse).
Would probably pop over to the Art Museum to check the Fiction @Love exhibition while I have the time to offset the inherent bimbotic tendencies imploding from within.
*
I’ve often wished I resemble your average Singapore girl physically. In the Singapore context, this means conscripting into the impossible ubiquitous army made up of women with swinging, sleek, straight tresses and the requisite brown or auburn streaks, who are really pencil slim, immaculately mascara-ed and eye-lined.
Making changes to my hair (besides I like it black and curly, usually) violate my principles and being slim offends the academic pretensions of sensible feminism. So.
I guess I could try to be mascara-ed and eye-lined by professionals. That’s my big concession of the week. With that, I dragged April to sign up for the Secret Glam Red Earth party that includes well, a party at mezebar at Mandarin Hotel; the essential goodie bag and a makeover cum photo shoot. Yes, my first makeover. Whoopee!! I wonder which movie star I resemble.
Fast forward 30 minutes -
Me: I think I look like a deranged rock chick gone goth. I can't believe they did this to me. Why can't I have normal hair. *wails*
(The evil ones have given me big hair. Big hair, with a very side parting. My eyes look funny. I couldn’t decide whether the smudges were an intentional fixture to make me gothic or they were achieved as a dire consequence of my fidgeting. I was so sure the eye liner pencil was gonna blind me)
April: you look very glamourous, really. You are just not used to the look lah.
Me: *accusatory* How come you look sane and normal? How come your hair looks ok?
*proceeds to toilet to wash out the globs of gel that have been massaged into my hair*
It took me 6 cotton pads soaked with make-up removal liquid to get the glitter and colour off my face and eyes.
I think I’m one of those unfortunate souls who look terrible in proper make-up. Sigh. Please excuse my nudity.
Such are the risky ventures over the weekend.
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