Confessions of a Drama Mama

Once upon a time I was dubbed shopping queen. I could even find a good buy in the last 5 minutes before the shuttle bus pulls away for the airport.

So it was with great anticipation that I embarked on my GSS shopping trip yesterday. But I ended up practically forcing myself to buy a silky top of questionable auntie level.

Maybe the long bus ride to Orchard Road took some of the mood away. Or maybe I was just tired. but I really didn’t feel it. Didn’t help that I was feeling a little bloated.

When a woman’s weight goes up, her confidence level goes down.

Max was nice thought, said it was probably the weight put on in Paris. Though I don’t quite remember pigging out as much.

Could it be? Has the impossible happened? Could I have finally …. gone sian of shopping?

**Insert dramatic music here**

I even took a bottle of shampoo and conditioner at Robinsons (see previous blog entry for significance) because they were going at 20% off and I was afraid that was all I was going to buy. Heck, what kind of failure would I be if I’m not able to find anything amongst the rows of shops!

I finally ended up in Cold Storage because I felt like a loser with one miserable (and small) shopping bag amongst the oh so cool and skinny teenagers sipping coffee at TCC.

Which brings me to: how come they’re so skinny? I don’t remember my stomach being so flat when I was 15.

So I went into Cold Storage in an attempt to buy something to reinstate my self worth. Sadly, I felt a bit more respected in Cold Storage.

In the end, I bought stuff. Stuff to cook for dinner on Sunday. Man, I sure felt like a woman.

I was showering yesterday when it occured to me. I’m really not a very patient person. I mean, I’ve always known, it’s in my family. But I’m like really REALLY impatient.

I’m so impatient that I seldom listen to the songs on my mp3 player (which my wonderful colleagues bought for me. Thanks, girls!) from start to end. I usually move to next track even before the song is over. Why? To save time what. So I can listen to more songs on the ride home. Right?

I usually buy big bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower foam. Of couse I do so because I think I get a better deal right? (Typical auntie thinking - buy in bulk is cheaper. Not always true hor). But even before the bottle is finished, I almost always feel sian of the smell, or I think that it’s not doing as good a job as it promised (shiny, silky smooth hair!), or I’ve been enticed by another brand. I always hope the bottle would finish faster so that it justifies me buying a new one.

But still, I’m ashamed to say (and Max will scold, I’m sure) that I have thrown away bottles that have a good amount of stuff left on more than one occasion.

I have a very short fuse too. I got home yesterday at 1015pm, after a nice relaxing yoga session, and I showered (when I had the shampoo revelation), and all I wanted to do was to turn the TV on and watch Prison Break.

Sit down comfortably on the couch with a glass of water, click on the remote control and then hey? How come TV never turn on? Remote got light what, so cannot be no battery. Anyhow, get my ass off the couch and go try pressing on the buttons on the TV. Still didn’t work.

So went to talk to Max in the shower.

Me: When was the last time you watched TV?

Him: This morning, why?

Me: Did you do anything special to it? I can’t turn it on leh

Him: Ya, I turned off the plug. Just turn it back on

So I go and try. So clever, buy such a big TV that takes up so much space on the TV bench. Cannot see the plug so I go back and ask

Me: Which plug?

Him: Behind the TV

Me: Ya but I cannot see it.

Him: There are 2 plugs there, just try both

Me: But I cannot reach it lor. I’m not elastic man

So have to squeeze my arm to try to reach the plug. And in the meantime get my armpit poked by the iron (which Max leaves on the TV bench because he irons while watching TV).

Still cannot reach so go to the other side to try. It’s a challenge to keep the turban on my head from falling and stretching my arm with my face squashed between the back of the TV and the wall. Finally I get it.

Remote works. Great. Then I realise volume doesn’t. So until Max come out, I watch the show with Michael and Lincoln mouthing their words.

In Max’s defence, he’s just trying to save energy. But seriously, I would rather waste energy than hurt my back each time I need to bend down to turn on the plug to dry my hair.

One thing about impatient people (or maybe just me): What fuels their impatience most is when things they know are supposed to work don’t work the way they’re supposed to work. Like plugs.

Maybe it takes more than yoga to make me more patient. To make me less irritated. But these little things are not helping! >:(

How could I not have shared this! I planned a surprise mini getaway for Max’s birthday in Jan at the new Siloso Beach Hotel in Sentosa and we had quite a lousy experience. This is my complaint letter, written on 16 Jan 2007, and I wrote another one under Max’s name last week to ask why no response from them. They finally called today (i.e. 6 months later) to acknowledge receipt of Max’s letter (because he got angmoh name mah, I only TAN mah) and to insist that they’d already sent a reply to my original letter. Please lor. Don’t say maybe you send to wrong address lor, I only moved house 1 month ago…

Anyway, my original letter for your reading pleasure:

For the attention of the Customer Services Manager

Siloso Beach Hotel

51 Imbiah Walk Sentosa

Singapore

099538

Dear Sir,

Re: Mismanagement of Expectations

I am writing to share with you on what could have been a romantic weekend for my husband and I, but was ruined by the services provided by your hotel.

Charmed by the lovely set up of the private rooftop jacuzzi, I made a reservation for a Queen Rooftop Suite at your hotel for one night from 13 Jan to 14 Jan. During the time of my booking, I requested for an earlier check in and one of your colleagues was kind enough to offer us 2pm check in, with a pick up time at 1.30pm from Vivocity.

I also asked if the hotel offered anything special since this was supposed to be a short surprise birthday getaway for my husband. I was offered complimentary champagne and cake, was a really nice gesture. Unfortunately, things started going downhill from the very moment we arrived at the hotel.

Upon checking in with my husband, one of the Front Desk Officers asked if I still wanted my birthday cake, to which I replied with a hint of sarcasm that yes I would still like it and it was supposed to be a surprise. No apology was offered for the lack of tact and discretion.

We were initially given room 827 which was beautiful except for the uncomfortable damp carpet in the room, as well as the soaking wet carpet at the top of the stairs leading up to the rooftop. Your colleague Miss Fadilah was kind enough to approach us to inform us that she would arrange a room change for us but our new room was not ready as she apparently wasn’t aware that we were checking in early.

That was rather strange to us since an early check in was requested and granted at the onset of the reservation. Someone must have known we were coming early – How else would early transport have been arranged for our arrival?

Room 818 was wonderful with no leaks however we were told that the jacuzzi was not ready and had to be fixed and that we would have to wait an hour for that to be done. To our dismay, after two hours of waiting, we realised that nothing had been done to the jacuzzi.

Again it was Miss Fadilah who stepped in and she offered to stay in our room to ensure our belongings were safe while the jacuzzi was being fixed. For her generousity, we are most grateful.

Breakfast the next morning was a huge disappointment. While we understand that the rowdy crowd was no one’s fault, we could not help but feel we were in the neighbouring Coasta Sands Resort rather than an exclusive hotel. The food and range of food was far from satisfactory for a hotel of this standard.

For the promotional rate (dare we believe that the actual rates will increase with this level of service?) that we paid, we would have received better treatment at either of the other two hotels on Sentosa island. Teething problems are expected of any new setup, but the rate the hotel is charging for guests to put up with its challenges, is definitely not justified.

From the vision of a romantic getaway, we ended up with a make-do holiday that I regret booking. It is really a big shame since many friends are relying on our feedback to decide on their bookings.

Please convey our thanks to Miss Fadilah for being the only saving grace of the hotel.

Best regards
Adora Tan-Richer

I know, I know, so many of you asking to see the photos… Wait la. No time to upload. And not that you never see Eiffel Tower photos before right?

So, I’ve decided to focus on what I learnt from our trip. Max and I were in Paris and Liege, a lovely countryside area in Belgium (a bit ulu but that’s what adds to its charm).

1. Bring on the courtesy campaign!
In Singapore, when people bump into you, they say "TSK!" or "aiyah" or glare at you. In Paris, people who walk into your path say "pardon!". Like "oh, please excuse my rudeness for cutting into your area!".

It really made me feel ashamed. I’m very much guilty of the occasional rude ‘excuse me’ when people walk slowly in front of me.

Every shop greets you with "Bonjour!". Like it’s compulsory. Some even sound really happy when they greet you, like you’re their best friend. Some even ask you how you are. Here where got. You’ll either get the grumpy provision shop uncle or the over zealous G2000 "HELLO! WELCOME!" and "THANK YOU BYE BYE!"

2. Nothing like good ole relak jack

Every year I think about what new thing I want to do for my birthday. This year I decided to opt for a simple picnic. OK, minus the fact that it was in Paris, it really taught me that the simplest things can be the most fun.

Paris is a crazy place and there are so many people on the move all the time. I read that Paris is made up of people who work there, but don’t live there. Could be true cos everything is so expensive (food, rent, clothes. Even me the shopping queen hardly bought anything. That says alot). Perhaps that’s why those who are there really make full use of everything. People take the time to enjoy an afternoon coffee, read the papers (and it’s really leisurely, not just sitting in a cafe squeezing in a few pages between appointments), picnic in the park, read on benches…

In Liege, we stayed with Selim, Max’s colleague when they were teaching in China. It was a beautiful cottage built in 1900. We had dinner on the terrace and ate and drank for more than 2 hours, until it got too cold and we had to go indoors.

Meals with my family are always chop chop curry pok with my father saying "Dylan, faster eat your food, don’t play afool ah, faster eat", and finished in half an hour. We don’t take the time to enjoy. That’s why our blood pressure so high.

3. Kiss away!

We complain about public display of affection here mainly because it’s youngsters who grope in public and prove they don’t have $20 for transit in the friendly Hotel 81.

But when we see couples smooching in Paris we say ‘awww, so romantic’. So bloody double standarded we are. So anyway, I say, just kiss la and don’t worry about what people think. But keep your hands to yourself.

4. Show love for the ones you love

Seeing so many kissies in Paris made me wonder. If people can give such superficial kisses to colleagues and friends, then why can’t we show our family members that we love them? When was the last time you held your mother’s hand?

5. See the beauty in things

We’re always walking so fast (did you know that Singaporeans hold the record for having the fastest walk? We like records so much that even the things we do unconsciously can become record) and not enjoying the things around us.

At the Eiffel Tower, I spent many moments just stopping in my tracks and staring at it, in awe of its beautiful. It really is a magnificant piece of work. I’d just stop and stare and smile at its beauty. OK fair enough, we wouldn’t do that to the Merlion, but what I’m saying is that we’ve got to keep our eyes open to see things. Nice cloud formations, sunset, scenery, anything. I think that we’ll find a sense of calm when we can see the beauty in things.

We learn so many things when we experience another culture

Quarter life crisis – I think that’s what I’m going through now. I feel depressed for no reason. Maybe it’s just the hormones of an irregular period cycle.

I mean, there’s really nothing for me to be depressed about. I’m not stressed about being jobless, or looking for love in the wrong places, or juggling work and study. But maybe I’m just feeling that I’m not living my life to the fullest.

Maybe there’s much more to my life than I know?

A few months ago I was considering taking up a course. Full time study would be good but I can’t spare the time nor the money. I didn’t want to plunge into a full blown Masters programme cos I really don’t feel inclined to be challenged academically to such extent. And I’m quite worried I won’t make the cut. The last thing I need now is a rejection, for an institution to tell me I’m not good enough.

So I started looking for a PR course half-heartedly. Thought maybe if it could help me in my job, that’d be good right? But am I contributing to my own stress level then? After I spend a year getting a PR certification, then what?

I push myself to write better press releases? Speak faster when I talk to journalists? All for what? So that I can do a better job? And be more tired at the end of the day? So much so that I won’t be able to enjoy my “me” time?

I’m not saying I don’t want to be a good employee. I don’t think I’m half bad in that aspect, but what I AM saying is that I probably want to do something to contribute to my own personal life.

Max says I’m probably feeling this low sense of self-worth because the renovation’s complete, and there’s no big project in our lives now to make me feel important.

How come I feel this way huh? How come I cannot just relax and be an ordinary person? Where does this innate need to improve constantly come from? I don’t think I’m a competitive person, and I really do want to relax and let people lead me but as ex boyfriends can testify, I believe that the best decisions always win, regardless of who they are made by. Most times their couldn’t-be-bothered attitude made me rise up and take charge. I guess that made some of them feel threatened.

At least with this ‘competitive’ (for lack of a better work) spirit, I can have a sense of achievement after each task is complete. I can take a stand back and look at my accomplishments and smile and feel proud of myself.

But as a follower, where does that sense of satisfaction come from? Or maybe it’s not something that everyone craves to have?

Anyway.

The problem with being so task driven is that when the task is over, I feel this emptiness. Even with these language classes, after French finished, I didn’t heave a sigh of relief. I got a certificate that says I’m qualified to speak French now, but I don’t feel I am, so I’m looking forward to the next semester (or maybe Diego also plays a part in this la).

I should stop this always feeling like I’m never good enough hor?

Attended my first Swedish class yesterday. Organised by the company. Cos we’ve been bugging them for a long time hehe. And not just anybody anybody can take it, we have to write essay on why we ‘deserve’ to take this course you know! Cos free mah.

It got me wondering though, why people want to take up a foreign language. For me, French is of course, because of the in-laws (but when I first picked it up in school, it was cos I heard a fat Malay boy sing "La Mer" during poly orientation), and Swedish was really cos of work. (I think among our reasons given was "so that we can eavesdrop on our boss talking to his wife on the phone").

But I wonder if there are people who pick languages just for the sake of self interest, no ulterior motive kind. Like… Russian perhaps? Or Hungarian? Portuguese?

How come some people can be so fluent in so many languages? Is it really a right brain left brain kind of thing? You know sometimes you see CV of bigshots, and they claim to be able to speak in many languages? I wonder if they are really fluent, or can just say a few things? Like that I also can put I speak English, Mandarin, Malay, Tamil (I can say 999?), French, Swedish and dialects la. Dio bo?

Anyway, I learnt how to say 4 things yesterday.

- My name is…

- I come from…

- I am … (nationality)

- I am …. (how old)

The funny thing is that I used many other languages to help me understand this new and very foreign language (come on, on top of the alphabets got dots and circles one ok?!). I used hanyu pinyin for pronounciation, and some of French to understand the conjugations. Which really surprised me.

I really wonder how I’m going to cope with trying to pick up 2 languages at different levels at the same time. Maybe I’m biting off more than I can chew. But cannot fault me for trying la hor? People say that you will lose a language if you don’t speak it often, so at least I can practice with my boss/Max respectively la.

And tonight we board the plane for Paris. So I will take the ultimate test of language survival. Wish me luck!

Those of you who watch Little Britain will know the segment with "Mister Man", the guy who asks for nonsense in a shop. This is about Miss Man. Only it’s her real name. Which I found out by looking at her credit card. And this is the story of why I did that.

I was at NTUC buying hand wipes (those things that people use to wipe baby’s asses) and the counters were all full. Then the counter next to me opened and a lady next to me left her basket on the ice cream freezer and walked away. Kinda like queue until fed up then give up on queuing kind. So of course I went over la.

Then she came back and said to me "I was in the queue". So I rolled my eyes and said in the most sarcastic voice I’m-better-than-you, you-stupid-bitch "go ahead" and used my hand to gesture.

Actually I didn’t really feel too happening with my Bee Cheng Hiang plastic bag hanging on my arm (for MIL la). And if I had been dressed better, or if I wasn’t so afraid of being recognised, maybe I would have said "No you weren’t, your basket was". I actually thought of all that while I was still in the queue. Amazing how fast the mind can work.

So as I was thinking about how some people can think they’re greater than ass wipe buyers just cos in their basket there’s paprika and steak, da bitch whipped out her credit card to pay. She left it on the counter (because her princess hands couldn’t come into contact with the NTUC cashier of commoner class, and that’s when I saw her cheena name) and….IT DIDN’T WORK!!

I really beamed when the cashier asked her to pay by cash. The god of cashier counters was watching. Maybe he likes Bee Cheng Hiang.