Like most people who blog and who depart from Changi airport, we're all incredibly taken by the free Internet access available at both terminals. So here I am, taking advantage of my free 15 minutes to say goodbye, and that I'm glad that the excitement of leaving is finally starting to kick in, after the last few days of apprehension.

So goodbye everyone! Have yourselves a merry little Christmas and one hell of a rockin' New Year!

You were wrong. I got some rest but I don't feel better. My body is aching and I feel very shaky, almost managing to fall down the stairs twice today so far. I woke up with my stomach growling incredibly, but only managed to choke down a pau because I just couldn't seem to eat.

But then again, I only managed to get three hours of sleep after returning home at 6 am from the MoS Opening, my last big hurrah before the end of the year. And I probably did drink too much, as the pounding in my head seems to be telling me.

I've been feeling apprehensive the last few days. I love variety, but I'm not the biggest fan of change. And I may have fought for a lot of things in my life, but still, it feels as if fighting is getting harder as I grow older. I'm getting one step closer to fulfilling a dream, and instead of feeling excited, I feel scared, because the closer I get, the harder it'll be for me if I f*** it all up. I've been trying to take the "what's the worst that could happen?" approach in that even if I don't manage to achieve my goals this time, then all it means is that the goal gets delayed. I don't lose out on it all together. The thing is... when you want something so badly, it can sometimes work to your disadvantage.

And the other thing about this fear? Thanks to my great tendency to overanalyse, I now find myself wondering whether this fear of change, of getting close to what I've been wanting for so long, means that perhaps I don't want it enough.

In any case, I leave in a few hours. I'll be landing in a city I love dearly even if it's in a season I hate. I'll be meeting some of my best friends after more than a year's absence. I'll be seeing my brother again. I'll be returning too, to Rome, having thrown one coin over my shoulder into the Trevi Fountain just under four years ago. You can be certain I will throw at least one more in before I leave. And when I return home to Singapore after the new year, you can bet that I will be a happier person, and that I will have given it my best shot, and that perhaps, finally, I will have managed to move on.

Fashionista
M.: Called you earlier as I had a spare pass for the MoS Opening.
Me: Thanks, but I couldn't have come out earlier as I'm determined to get at least 75% of my packing done tonight.
M.: How's it going?
Me: Not good. It doesn't help that winter clothing is so ugly.

I'm roughly 75% done. All I have left to pack are toiletries, work clothing, a pair of shoes and some socks, and those, I'll pack tomorrow. I've even managed to get some Christmas gift shopping done - and those are for the people who matter!

For now, I'm waiting for my friend to text me that he's on his way to MoS so that I won't have to queue.

I went to the Ministry of Sound pre-opening party on Wednesday night. There wasn't much of a crowd, much to my relief, and I got to take a good look at the massive complex that is the largest MoS outlet in the world.

As my friend and I queued up, the first thing that caught our attention was that the bouncers were wearing bright pink shirts with the MoS logo emblazoned on them. "Yes," the bouncer said when he noticed us looking at him, "I only found out the colour of the shirt today." "Would that have stopped you from taking this job?" I asked. "No, it's a great company. But yeah, it is a bit..." "Gay?!" I said. M. (a guy) interjected, "No, I like it. It's a salmon-y kind of pink." "I'm a girl, and I'm scared of it!" I responded. Next thing, the bouncer said (probably to get rid of me), "okay, mam, you may go in now." Heh.










The main room was awesome. I like that it wasn't too dark, and that no one stopped me from taking photos as I wandered through the whole complex. There're six rooms: the R&B room and the main room on the first floor and the members' lounge (Pure) and retro room (54) and some VIP rooms on the second floor. The three photos above are (obviously) of the main room. On one side, there's an awesome water curtain where they broadcast images every once in a while. On the third photo on the right, you can just make out the water fountain in front of all the people, as well as the image of a lady in red on the water screen. The sound system was great as well, sounding better than the revamped system they have in Zouk. As with all the new clubs I've gone to, the bass is still a little too strong for me, but I've gathered that that will change with time.













54 was incredibly cute and kitschy. It reminded me so strongly of Austin Powers and Saturday Night Fever to the point that I almost bolted out the door because I'm not a fan of disco. Nevertheless, the numerous disco balls, the colourful disco-lit floor and the psychedelic wheels adorning the place do make it very attractive.










The R&B room looked really ghetto, and I mean that in a nice way. It looked rather authentic, with the wire fences, the graffiti on the DJ booth and its overall gritty feel. To my surprise, there weren't that many people inside, and no one on the dance floor at all. I started to have some fun with the wire cage, doing an impromptu exotic dance against the wall, amusing and surprising the heck out of the friend who accompanied me. I see great potential for this room... now if only the braces-wearing people looking far too young to be drinking weren't there, it'd be more happening.

Overall, I enjoyed my first visit ever to an MoS outlet. I still haven't been to the one at Elephant & Castle, seeing it as a club only tourists go to, but who knows? This just might have changed my mind. I think it could be a serious competitor for Zouk. In fact, I hope so. MoS is huge and its fixed costs must be incredibly high, so I really hope they can survive. And surely the dance music capital of Asia is big enough to sustain more than one big club?

My mentor at work gave me a T-box T-shirt today for Christmas. For my birthday, she gave me a pair of earrings she bought in Cambodia. She knows where all the good eating places are and tends to bring me and her other mentees out for lunch every once in a while. She's a straight-talking hard-hitting woman and I really respect her.

Of course, if everything at work (or at least 70% of it) were hunky dory, I wouldn't want to leave. But they're not. And I do. I'm keeping my fingers crossed as I'm going to have get past some obstacles over the next few weeks in other to achieve my dream.

I had lunch with a friend I met through work and he asked me how come I didn't want to go into sales. I didn't see myself as the sharp and aggressive kind of person that you need to be in order to survive and advance in sales, I said. That's funny, he replied. Because I think you're bright, sharp and aggressive, and you're clearly fighting for what it is you want.

And - I'm not blowing my own horn here - it is true. While I've had a relatively sheltered life, I have always fought for something I really wanted, whether it was to do with my ECAs (which I always preferred over studies), an S-Paper in JC, a subject that Singaporeans generally didn't take in my university or my permanent posting at work. It's a quality my mother has always liked about me, because I tend to go for something harder than my brother does, to the point that he felt pressured when we both went to university together, as he never had to compete directly against before, given the three year age gap.

It doesn't always mean I get what I want though, but gosh and darn, I'm not going to sit here and take all this crap lying down. Even if I'm too afraid to do the ultimate step of venturing into unknown territory without a safety net, I will still find a way to get what I've been wanting ever since graduation. And God willing, I'll get it real soon.

As my Economics tutor used to say, Singapore combined the features of a command economy and the invisible hand (I can't remember the proper terms right now, so bear with me): the government provided the parameters within which Singaporeans were free to operate within. In that same way, I guess having a religion means that someone else came up with the parameters for how I should be living my life, leaving me free to do whatever I wanted within it.

And though I'm a firm believer in free will rather than determism, I do find myself more than a little frustrated with the boundaries of my life. I don't feel all that free. True, some of the boundaries are perceived rather than actual, such as the belief that there are some things in life that if I did, my parents would be very disappointed if they found out such as when I was dating my oh-so-white university boyfriend and kept him hidden from my parents because I thought they'd object, which turned out not to be the case. However, when it comes to parental disapproval, I'd much rather be safe than sorry.

And then of course, there's the law. Better not to speak out, in case you find every aspect of your past dug out and splashed across the papers. Better not to do anything that you'd consider a youthful indiscretion (and harmful only to yourself) in case you end up in jail for 12 months and your prospects ruined. Better not to do anything at all because this country is so damn small that news spreads incredibly quickly.

There's the betting argument that some people use to argue for the existence of God, in that if you believe in God, and you follow everything that He tells you, and there turns out not to be a God, then you don't lose anything. On the other hand, if you don't follow His ways, and there really is a God, then you've lost everything.

Of course, the argument conveniently neglects to factor in lost experience. I mean, let's just say for argument's sake that I found myself in the former camp. I'd be pretty damned pissed that I missed out on some many things in life because I felt I had to be good. In fact, I don't judge any of my friends, no matter how different we are (although, yes, I do lose a little respect for them if they indulge in things like infidelity, because... well, I'm like that), and I don't believe that any of them would go to Hell at the end of the day, and yet I judge myself so much more harshly. Like I shouldn't do certain things because they're considered cardinal sins, and if they're not confessed, then, yeah, I'm going straight to Hell.

And though I've kidded with my Muslim friend that yeah, confession sometimes feels like an unsecured overdraft that'll never be withdrawn from you (i.e. automatically wipes the slate clean once you've gone through with it), still, the issue I have with confession is that by confessing, then I'm admitting that what I've done is wrong, that I knew it was wrong and still went ahead and did it. But why would I have done it if I thought it was wrong?

Of course, I don't feel that it's one huge downer that I'm Catholic. There've been times when I felt incredibly down, and no one was around, yet still, I can feel that Someone's looking out for me. Atheists might dismiss this as a psychological thing, but still, it helps believing that I'm not alone, that there's something to hold on to. And I think there're statistics that show that people who don't believe tend to be more susceptible to depression.

So yeah, it can get very frustrating at times - being Catholic, and being Singaporean - and while I'm grateful for the benefits both have given me, still... I can't help but wonder, how would it be like to just not care and be able to do anything you wanted?

With all the words, dear, at my command
I just can't make you understand
I'll always love you darling
Come what may
My heart is yours
What more can I say?

I'd lie for you
I'd sigh for you
I'd tear the stars down from the sky for you
If that isn't love, it will have to do
Until the real thing comes along
- Until The Real Thing Comes Along, Billie Holiday

According to research conducted by Dacher Keltner, a professor of psychology at the University of California at Berkeley, Americans and Britons smile differently. While that in itself isn't that big of a surprise, what's amusing is how the newspapers from the two sides of the Atlantic view it. The New York Times says that Americans smile and Britons grimace while The Times of London says that the British smile is harder to fake, and hence more sincere.

I wonder how different an Asian smile is and what the newspapers would have made of them. Most likely, there would be huge differences within South-East Asia itself. And that brings to mind an interesting question: how does one learn how to smile?

Via BoingBoing.

There've been lots of people who've been extolling the virtues of being single to me recently. Still, I can think of three things offhand that - to me - are strong enough reasons to want a companion:

1. You know there's someone who you mean something to, who notices when you're not around.
2. (Applicable to me only) I really do need someone to help balance out my ultra-critical side, because I am very very harsh on myself. I've been trying to ease up but there're days I slip.
3. It's nice to have someone who'll give you all the hugs and cuddles you need without you needing to ask.
   

ZoukOut, my very first beach party, was incredible. I wasn't sure how it'd go, because other than Nick Warren, there really wasn't any other DJ I really wanted to see. But then again, because I haven't had many opportunities to celebrate my 25th birthday, I figured ZoukOut was as good a chance as any. Thanks so much to my usual clubbing bunch for bringing champagne and making something out of it. It's nice to be loved. :)

Yesterday night was something truly unexpected. As it is with clubbing friends, you usually don't talk all that much as you do with your regular friends. As in, when you're clubbing, you don't talk, you just groove with the music, or buy one another drinks. Instead, I found myself actually talking to some of these new friends on our way to Sentosa, and also over Ben & Jerry's, such that the next time, I'm not going to call them "oh, one of the Zouk crowd" which I do, because I can't remember all of their names!

We reached Sentosa around 10.30 pm or so, chilling by the beach opposite the main stage, outside the ZoukOut area, with kegs of beer, chips and a bottle of champagne, listening to the great tunes Sonny was pumping out. My friend and I managed to bump into Nick Warren while walking to Rasa Sentosa to use their restrooms... not that either of us would have recognised him had Aldrin not been escorting him.

Right after that restroom break, J., invited me (at my request, heh) to join him for a Ben & Jerry's break (tied for my favourite ice-cream brand in terms of taste with Baskin Robbins, but wins out in terms of packaging and sheer cheeriness), which resulted in us getting into ZoukOut at a respectable time of 12.45 am in spite of the incredibly long queues. J. was a master at queue-cutting and without him, I would definitely have had to queue for at least three times longer than we did. Apologies to all for being so inconsiderate, but... erm... well, I really only do this kind of thing at these kind of festivals. Heh.

Nick Warren's set was incredible, far better than the Way Out West set he played at Zouk earlier this year. Armin's was so-so, although it began to pour like crazy in the middle of his set, and I, having been dancing in a bikini top and shorts, was soon starting to shiver. My top was in a friend's bag, and he had vanished shortly before NW's set ended, so I ended up borrowing a new friend's, M's, shirt because I was just so cold. There were some highlights during Armin's set, such as when he played U2 - New Year's Day (Oakenfold remix?) but as J. called him, "Armin van Boring" tends to play the "Mambo of trance." It's either that or trance really isn't doing it for me anymore.

Sven Vath's set was 65% to 75% good. I don't usually listen to techno. In fact, it may have been the first techno set I've attended. I was dancing throughout his set, which is usually a good indicator that the pace is kind of fast and kind of hard, the way I kind of like it. :P

Aldrin's sunrise set from 7 am to 8 am was pretty okay. He pretty much dropped some of his usual tracks, but I didn't have any complaints. I don't think I'll ever be sick of tracks like Underworld - Cowgirl. I was jumping barefoot on the sand for the longest time when it kicked in (yes, the Energizer Bunny of the Zouk dancefloor can still hold her own, even if she won't be around to renew her title at the end of this year) and almost skinned the soles of my feet! His set could definitely have been better, which even Aldrin admitted, but still, it was a nice way to end the night... or begin the morning!

I got home around 10.20 am, after retrieving my top and after breakfast with J., T. and another guy at the HarbourFront McDonald's. I fell asleep reading the Sunday comics before managing to drag myself up for a shower and passed out right after that, only waking up at 2 pm to let our part-time cleaner clean my room. So yes, in spite of being on three hours sleep, I've managed to write this long, admittedly rambly and a little disorganised post. I'm so proud of myself.

My good friends took me out for a wonderful dinner at Menotti's tonight. I haven't seen them in ages, and I ended up talking non-stop for close to 2.5 hours. I'm always worried that I'll end up talking incessantly, to the point that they wish that I'd just shut up... but tonight, I guess it was a good thing because we had so much to catch up on. And although we've all changed, we've always stayed more or less the same. I've grown a little older, a little louder, and perhaps, a little cruder (in terms of the language I use, so inured I am after having studied in London and worked alongside my colleagues for so long), while another friend has remained as provocative and outspoken as ever, the self-declared "Samantha" of our Sex and the City quartet. Another one of us definitely falls into the "Carrie" role, so much does she love shopping, especially for branded items. The remaining two, unfortunately, aren't so clearly delineated. I, for instance, am a combination between seemingly tough, career-driven "Miranda" and good girl "Charlotte", while my friend isn't quite "Miranda", and she definitely isn't "Charlotte". So we don't really know how to categorise us two.

And as I was chatting with them, I found myself reflecting on how 2005 has gone so far. I decided at the beginning of the year that I wouldn't just spend time on work, that rather I'll spend more time with friends, and doing the things I enjoy, and achieve something meaningful. I'd say that I've been mostly successful. I've made quite a few new friends this year, some of whom have become close, dear friends, in spite of the troubles that we've gone through. I've also returned to dancing although it's the kind of dancing I wouldn't show anyone else... this was also the cause of my back injury which still hurts from time to time. I did my best (hah!) to sit for the CFA Level I exam. At work, I did all of my duties to the best of my abilities, culminating in my receiving an exemplary performance appraisal earlier this week. Whether my company chooses to reward me adequately for what I've done remains to be seen. I am most definitely not a stranger to being bitterly disappointed by my company, and I do hope with all my heart that this situation will change in the near future.

I have a week more in Singapore before leaving for my three week vacation in London and Rome which I'm rather nervous about, as I'll also be looking at some opportunities. I'm fervently hoping that I can fulfill my potential and achieve that which I've always wanted during this trip. At the same time, I'll be spending three weeks with my family. I usually spend less than a day with them during a normal week, so this will be both a welcome change (at times) and a great ordeal, as we're all so stubborn and impatient that we tend to get on one another's nerves.

All in all, this has been an incredibly busy year for me - socially and work-wise. While it has been very taxing on my system, I hope that this doesn't change over the next few years, no matter where I am. I feel happier today - this month! - than I've been in a while and I almost feel as if I can do anything I set my mind to. I acknowledge that certain events that took place a few months ago did almost drive me into what would have been considered clinical depression but I'm gradually coming out of the shell that I withdrew into in the aftermath and also because of exam preparations.

In short, I'm feeling happier, friendlier, more driven, a little older and definitely a little wiser than I did at the beginning of the year... and that's definitely a good thing.

Rent was awesome. Hearing the original Broadway voices live made me all sniffly. Karen Mok wasn't too bad. Her voice was good, but her moves looked kind of awkward.

The exam was horrible. And to think that regardless of the result, I'll probably be going through the same hell in two months time.

Aside: Why men don't talk.

Having put aside the whole of last week to study for my exam tomorrow, and having done 5 sample exams*, my frame of mind entering into tomorrow's finance marathon is this:

I'M GOING TO FAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

* Four borderline fails and one pass.