My friend and I have been e-mailing back and forth on what we find frustrating about life. As of this evening, the e-mail stands at 14 pages (including many "this e-mail is confidential blah" signatures) and various topics ranging from how tired we are at being so controlled all the time to what you would do if you were in a situation whereby you like a guy who used to go out with one of your friends to whether you'd enter into a relationship with someone knowing full well that you'd have to leave the country in half a year's time. We're both hardcore party-goers who are disillusioned with men in general so perhaps this might explain the overarching theme of the e-mails.

Tonight, I'll touch on what's been bothering not just me, but some of my friends as well: the blurring of personal boundaries.

Before I left for London, I was - and still am - very conservative. I wouldn't hug a guy goodbye after having just met him, for instance. Neither would I be comfortable with a guy putting his arm around my shoulder if he was just a friend. And I definitely wouldn't be able to tolerate dancing with a guy whose hands were roaming all over my body. Not that I can tolerate such a thing now, just that I'm better able to divert the hands from areas which are very private. And back then, kissing someone who I had no feelings for? No way. In fact, kissing someone who I liked but wasn't in a serious relationship with was a no-no. And now? I've snogged someone who I didn't even think was that attractive simply because - and I admit it - I was bored and frustrated with life and just wanted to blow off some steam. Not the most noble of reasons and definitely out of character for me, but still, I did it.

The question I posed to my friend was: where's the line supposed to be drawn? Everyone seems to be doing all these actions which I used to think were reserved only for those who you truly cared about and were interested in. Take, for instance, one of my guy friends. I had known him for less than two months when, upon our next meeting, he had slipped his arm around my waist while I stood there rather rigidly and slightly uncomfortable, and given me a big hug and a peck on the cheek. Granted, he was a little drunk and we were in a club, but still. And of course, there're friends who snog and it doesn't mean anything.

I just don't know where the line should be anymore! As mentioned earlier, I still am conservative, but nowadays, I just act the appropriate part. If I'm in a club, I go along with people placing their arms around me. I'm more touchy-feely now, even with people I've just met, placing a hand on their shoulder or back while talking to them, when last time, I would have hesitated greatly before even laying a finger on them. Now, I don't even mind holding on to a guy's waist when they lead me across the crowded dance floor, though I do prefer just holding on to their back or shoulder. But letting him take my hand - even for just a brief while - that's just far too intimate for me. It may seem strange, but in a world where kisses and hugs don't mean anything anymore, the act of holding hands is about the only thing that I haven't seen anyone try to corrupt and trivialise.

As my friend - who's rather touchy-feely with her guy friends as well - said, "I think it means more than a kiss now. So many people randomly kiss strangers. When someone holds my hand, I actually feel special." Well said. I experienced that same feeling yesterday, after reluctantly slipping my hand off my friend's back into his hand as he was both steadying me while leading me onto the dance floor. It felt good. It felt nice. And that was unexpected given that I don't have any feelings towards this guy. But maybe because it's been far too long since I - or my hands - have been held.

Ooooog. Took half-day leave today in order to accommodate my desire to go to the Heineken Green Room Sessions presenting Thievery Corporation at Velvet Underground. Man, the place was packed. I haven't seen that many people there since UNKLE's gig in March. My friends couldn't get in and I ended up on the ultra-crowded dance floor by myself. The best part of that though is that I ended up standing next to a rather cute guy who was also by himself. I got to know him when the Heineken photographers came around taking photos and he rather cheekily just put his face next to mine. Turned out that he's a 22-year-old male model (so he claims and I'd believe it) from Montreal who'll be here for three months for work. Got his e-mail address and he asked me to contact him on Friday since he'd be free. Let me do something typically girly now. *shrieks and swoons* Ahem. Heh.

I left Velvet early - at about 12.35 am - as TC were playing acid/smooth jazz. Just not my style of music. I joined a couple of people at Mambo where the bengs were clearly out in full force. I was more than a little horrified and shocked while watching them do all the hand action of the so-called official dances to the various anthems, such as Call Me, Love (in the first degree) and Together Forever. I did get to hear Radiohead (Creep!), A Little Respect and That Thing You Do! played which revealed the rather cheesy side of me, unfortunately. But I don't care. And it helped that I had a Flaming (my second in three weeks).

And erm... drinks tally for the night excluding the Flaming: two half-shots of butterscotch, two Lemon Drops and one Lychee Martini.

Woke up with a headache. Twice in less than a week. Ugh. Now, off to take a shower and then heading to work.

P.S. Leaving for Phuket tomorrow night. Hopefully won't return with too many horror stories!

Swedish PM Rejects Jets-For-Chicken Trade

On a related note on weird politics, a friend quipped that Thaksin's plan for world domination involves opening up Thai restaurants all around the world. This related article seems to support her theory.

Now here's a challenge...

Erotic Origami at the Origami Underground.

Oooog. My very first hangover. Ever.

I drank a hell of a lot at my company party at Zouk last night. I didn't expect to - the free flow of drinks was scheduled to end at 10 pm and I usually don't drink a lot that early... but yesterday night, by the time free flow ended, I had had eight drinks, inclusive of two shots. I had also been strutting my stuff on the dance floor and was attracting attention because - hey - I looked quite pretty and I was wearing my distinctive newsboy cap which always attracts attention. Or as my friend put it, I was dressed like a "French arts student" which is, apparently, one of his fantasies... but that's another story. Heh.

Anyway, I ended up at Velvet after the free flow ended, ran into some people from my high school who I recognised or recognised me but who I didn't know personally, and had some more drinks with the rest of my company people who were still there... this time, I had champagne and wine, and if you've been reading this blog faithfully, then you'll know that those are the two drinks which knock me out - guaranteed.

My memory gets kind of fuzzy at this point. Somehow, after the wine, I ended up at the bar talking rather drunkenly to an Australian who, fortunately for me, kept getting me glasses of water. I don't remember how I got there or how I started talking to him or even how I started SMSing another friend to help 'rescue' me because I was aware that I was rather drunk. Anyway, my friend turned up, dragged me to the Zouk dance floor where I proceeded to dance myself sober and realise that I couldn't recall what I had been doing for the past half hour or so. Not good.

So. I got home by 3 am, having been sent home (phew!) by my friend's friend and woke up at 8.30 am with a headache, wondering how on earth I had managed to change into sleeping attire because I couldn't recall doing that either.

Oh well. As my friend put it when I told him that this was my first very drunken night ever, "hopefully, it'll be the first of many nights to come."

Amusing Exchanges

While clubbing on Saturday
British Asian bloke (after dancing with me for some time): You're a really fantastic dancer! If I were to ask for your number, would you give it to me?
Me: Yes, but only as a friend for now.
BAb: Okay. [walks off]

At work, with a friend who doesn't usually go out drinking
Friend: I wasn't aware that my friend's alcohol tolerance was so low. She wanted to vomit after only having half a pint of Erdinger and she passed out in the cab.
Me: So she threw up when you guys got home?
Friend: No! She wanted to throw up outside Jazz@SouthBridge. I thought, "Oh my God!" This is Jazz@SouthBridge. People don't throw up outside here. This is not Zouk!

Choosing friends over lovers - Dating a friend's ex: "In a city where everyone knows everyone, it's not uncommon for two friends to have a common romantic interest - whether it's the girl across the bar or your friend's boyfriend. But there don't seem to be any clear ethical guidelines for resolving such conflicts. Is the singles scene a free-for-all, where everyone is fair game? Is anyone you fucked off-limits to your friends? And why do girls like to flirt with two men at once?"

Looking for Friendship in a Dating-Obsessed City: "Lonely hearts in the city get all the ink and have plenty of resources to turn to for hooking-up help. But what if all you're after is a friend?"

Sure, the articles are based on New York scene but man, are they ever applicable to Singapore.

My parents went to Kuala Lumpur over the weekend and brought back two chocolate and banana cakes from fashion designer Zang Toi's West 57th St Cafe (RM62 in total - what a bargain!). In my - and the rest of my department's - opinion, the cake would easily a strong contender for the title of the world's best chocolate cake ever. In fact, a male colleague of mine said, "You've ruined all chocolate cakes for me. All future chocolate cakes will be held up to this cake as a benchmark and found wanting."

My reply: "Now, if I could only have that effect on all men, my life would be complete."

Yesterday, they showed the last episode of Friends ever. I know I mentioned last week that I would be bidding farewell to one of my favourite shows but I didn't think I would be feeling as lost as I'm feeling now. I feel almost the same way I felt when I had to say goodbye to London and make my way back home to Singapore back in 2002.

I know, I know. It's only a television show, for goodness' sake. But at the same time, I've been watching the gang for ten years, having followed it when it premiered in 1994. I grew along with the guys on the show. The show's accompanied me through my trials and tribulations. I left home for the first time, graduated from university, went through two boyfriends and got my first job during the time the show was running. I cemented long-running, strong relationships with my own bunch of Friends; I was even welcomed as a member of the "Friends without the coffee" gang back in high school.

My favourite character was initially Monica because of the similarity of her name to mine, but it soon moved to Ross when he was still sweet and funny, instead of the irritating loser he was portrayed as during the last five seasons or so. In fact, all six of them have been my favourite at one time or another such that at this point in time, I'm unable to figure out who's my true favourite, though it could very well be Rachel given Jennifer Aniston's strong acting during the last few seasons.

Friends has had its ups and downs. Certain seasons were terribly weak, while others were consistently funny. Though no one can ever say that it was an incredibly intelligent show (indeed, its pilot wasn't all that well-received), nevertheless, it had snappy writing and a great cast. Moreover, this show was revolutionary in a way in that instead of revolving around a family, it revolved around friends. I guess one of the main reasons why I feel so strongly about this show is how it showed how instead of relatives, friends were... are the twentysomethings' family. Now, I'm a twentysomething and I do indeed find that I'm beginning to rely on seeing them more and more, depending on them for advice and comfort, secure in the knowledge that my friends will always be there for me.

Goodbye, Monica, Phoebe, Rachel, Chandler, Joey and Ross. Thanks for the last ten years. You'll be missed.

It's not as if I'm really hard up for a boyfriend. I'm not desperate for one and I certainly don't feel as if I've the time for one. But I must admit that I do feel lonely from time to time. I just feel the need for some form of physical affection... a hug, a kiss... but not sex. I just want to have someone who'll ruffle my hair lovingly, whose arm will be curled round my body protectively while I sleep, in whose arms I can feel safe...

I'm reasonably attractive. I'm intelligent. I've got a good job. And I have a great personality. So why is it that I've been single ever since graduation?

Fired from Friendster for Blogging

Dude! Are you kidding me?

Thie week and over the next few days, I'll have said goodbye to two shows I loved dearly: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Friends. While it's true that the shows have deteriorated in quality over the years and that I do have some fundamental issues with both shows (Please! Buffy and Spike? And what's with this "it's all about me!" stuff on Buffy? And why did Friends turn into some sort of incestuous dating show and Ross into an anaemic not-at-all-funny-and-incredibly-pathetic dork?)

On a more serious note, the royal wedding in Brunei - why is everyone looking at this as though it's some sort of romantic story? It's a 30-year-old crown prince marrying a 17-year-old. It's practically paedophilia! Enough said.

And the bombing of the Australian embassy in Jakarta - my friend was there on vacation. The bomb was so powerful that they could feel it 15 km away. Please stop. It's terrible when it's far away, despicable when it involves children (either as victims or instruments) and scarier when it's so close to home.

An amusing conversation avec mon pere hier soir:

Me: We all have oval faces...
Dad: Like your mum and myself.
Me: Except [my brother's] has grown round.
Dad: You have my lips. But don't worry. They're known as sensuous lips. [purses lips together and pouts exaggeratedly, making a smmmmchh noise, not unlike the noise that Ah Bengs make when they spot a pretty girl.]

My mum and I have to stop the conversation right there as we're unable to stop laughing.

My friend invited me to her friend's house-warming yesterday night, although I didn't know any of the people who would be going. I suspect it's because she wanted someone fun and funky to go with them clubbing, and also because her friend is Swedish, and my ex is Swedish.

When I arrived at the flat, I found that I was the only local other than my friend... and also the only other girl! There were two Swedes, one German, one Indian and one English present. Nevertheless, I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, I had a lot of fun with them. They're fun and talk a lot of crap, but at least it's not the same old local crap I hear everyday.

And you know what? I was decidedly not myself yesterday. Two of them hit on me yesterday and although I wasn't attracted to them (though I must add that I wasn't repulsed by them either), I did respond in kind to at least one of them. I ended up snogging the German (decent-looking if a little too old for me, seeing as he looks in his early '30s) three times just for the hell of it. If you really must know, I've only kissed one person in my life before that, and sometimes it feels as though I'm so out of it that... well, I wanted to keep in practice. Heh. I didn't really feel anything much and I did kind of run from him after that.

Let me digress at this point. I'm really upset at how come I'm so poised and confident in almost all situations, except for when I'm getting hit on. I have no clue how to react and quite often, I don't know how to stop a guy from going too far other than running like heck or signalling to a friend to rescue me. And I guess, that's also one reason why I ended up snogging the guy; I didn't know how to get out of it, especially once I felt his hand caressing my butt, and even stroking the base of my spine. I was wearing very very low-rise jeans, so I was acute aware of just how low that finger could venture. Sigh. I'm going to be 24 this year and yet, I'm utterly clueless.

Anyway, after that, my friend dragged me onto the dance floor. I didn't see the German after that, much to my relief and chagrin as I wasn't sure how I ought to react if I did see him because to the best of my knowledge, "I'm sorry, I don't do one-night stands and I'm not planning to sleep with anyone until I get married" probably won't work. Needless to say, I stayed on the dance floor for most of the night seeing as it's easy enough to move away from people when you're dancing as opposed to sitting down and drinking with them.

Green Velvet was playing at Zouk last night and though I'm not a great fan of house (as opposed to progressive house and tribal house, which I'm quite fond of), I enjoyed myself immensely. The energy level was high and clearly, everyone else was having fun even if their dancing ability left much to be desired. It was all I could do not to laugh my guts out at how some of them were dancing, them being people on the platform, not the gang I was with. I was indulging in some English-style dancing - the good kind, not the bad - when the rather-cute-but-incredibly-full-of-himself Englishman said, "You're the best dancer I've ever met! You'd love my friend Nadine, who can dance almost as well as you!" He knew quite a few moves himself, so naturally I returned the compliment. To be perfectly honest, he was the only guy I'd ask the number of if I had to choose. He looks like Chandler from Friends but is even cuter. Thanks, Marcus. You have no idea how much I love hearing people praise my dancing.

After that, the Indian made his move. My friend had been dancing with every guy that night. She's sexy, pretty and taller than I am and she has great legs. Furthermore, I was wearing a slightly loose baby doll T-shirt, jeans and trainers (as I had to visit my extended family just before going to the house-warming) while she was wearing a black tube top, white trousers and strappy heels. I naturally expected her to be getting more attention from anyone in the club, especially given that I don't usually have people hitting on me anywhere in Singapore. But, the Indian guy kept trying to get me to dance with him, and his hands were moving to some rather private and personal regions, but this time, I did push his hands away (as did my friend, when he was dancing with her). He later came over to tell me that he thought I was "incredibly cute" but I mis-heard, and thinking he was referring to my friend, said, "Yes, she is" before he clarified, "Not her, you." It was late and I was quite surprised given that I do think she's better-looking than I am, and could only reply in astonishment, "Me??" I had been talking to another guy before he came over, so he said, "sorry to interrupt" and left.

So, yeah. I had an eventful night. I feel a little ashamed at snogging a guy I don't have any feelings for, but I'm also defiant, wondering why anyone should judge me for anything I do as long as no one gets hurt. I'm sick and tired of suffering from good Catholic girl guilt syndrome. I just want to enjoy life, damn it!

I went to see my company doctor on Friday afternoon as I've been suffering from a dull pain in the left-hand side of the back of my head for about a week and a half now. It only comes when I'm bending down to pick up something or if I've tilted my head in a certain direction, or as I discovered yesterday, if I've drunk quite a fair bit. It doesn't disturb my sleep but I do notice that it's still there when I wake up.

In any case, the doctor couldn't find anything wrong with me or my eyes and diagnosed me as having "tension headaches". She prescribed me some muscle relaxant pills which also contained panadol, as well as some gingko tablets to improve the blood circulation.

I've been way more stressed during other periods and have not suffered from this pain before, and this diagnosis got me a little worked up when I was ranting about this to my colleagues, although, granted, I do understand the doctor's point of view. In my opinion, I think it's more to do with some sort of muscle strain or pinched nerve. Nevertheless, I've been good and have been taking the medication prescribed. And it hasn't helped. I still feel the pain, and what's more, my throat feel tight, there's a strange taste in my mouth and I've lost my appetite.

I hope it's nothing serious.

The Guardian: Mindless brutality? No, it's the spiteful gene

"We have all heard of the selfish gene, but in extreme circumstances genes can be downright spiteful too, scientists have discovered. Researchers at Edinburgh University who studied the brutal behaviour of bacteria and insects say spiteful behaviour is not only justified at times but is hard-wired into our genes."

But those of you who may be thrilled at finding scientific justification for your bad behaviour, be warned, for the articles goes on to say that

"But while genes might make bacteria and insects prone to bouts of spite, they are unlikely to account for dubious human behaviour. "It could explain any deep, primal spiteful emotions if we ever have any, but suicide bombers and issues of what you could call spite in the news are more to do with people's beliefs than their genes. People don't really do what their genes tell them to do," said Dr Gardner."

Name the era, and you can name every artist from it. You've got an eye for design and a knack for feng shui. Color schemes, architecture, and objet d'art - these are all your fortes.

What people love: You're the perfect person to shop with.
What people hate: They have to clean their house whenever you come over.

What Kind of Elitist Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

It looks like I've continued my absolutely fabulous streak when it comes to romance. It turns out that Mr. Potential Husband, as my friends call him, seeing as we have the same interests, has decided that he's more comfortable being friends. Great. Just great. I've managed to clear up the mystery as to why his rather enthusiastic initial approaches fizzled out, then returned, then fizzled out again. Let me just say that mixed signals are not something I can tolerate for an extended period of time and that this situation was really starting to get to me.

Anyway, I had an inkling that he might have decided to be friends in spite of his (still-apparent) interest in me. In a nutshell, he's got issues. And it's a little ironic that before the air was cleared, I had issues with the fact that he had issues, and that I didn't think in my current situation, being as busy as I am, that I could afford the time to support him - or anyone else - through his or her tough times when clearly, as someone who'd be dating him, I ought to do my best to be there for him whenever he needed someone.

Nevertheless, I'm royally p***ed off. I'm incredibly frustrated by the fact that there's no one here for me to blame. It's not his fault that his current situation is as it is. It's not my fault for liking him. It's just a matter of timing. But I'm really angry that I had to ask him in order to figure out what the deal was with him, that my feelings for him had grown this strong before I found out. I'm sick and tired of all the crap that's been happening in my so-called romantic life, and that all men seem to be jerks, one way or the other.

The only good thing that's come out of this is that my gang of friends have, after one of my off-the-cuff remarks about how I should spend my free time culling the male population of wimpy-assed-mixed-signalling individuals in order to ensure that the gene pool wouldn't be contaminated, decided that we should do something not as extreme as what I suggested, but instead, set up a service that enables females who are as frustrated as we are with me, to tell us which guy has done them a disservice, after which, we'll hunt them down and hand them notes with "YOU F***ER!" written on them. Of course, we'll have a scale with which to judge these guys so that we can grade them from a mere b*****d to a m**********r who should go f*** himself and die.

Scientists have found that revenge is indeed sweet. (International Herald Tribune)