17 June, 2008
Hectic, hectic, hectic!
04:56:31 | Daily Life, People, Thoughts | 
writebacks (3)
Pardon the silence, but things have been pretty hectic ever since I arrived home from Genting Highlands four days ago. (And yes, here I am typing a blog entry at 4.29 A.M. - back to my old ways again, I suppose.)
Am pretty much up to my elbows in FYP. Apparently, those people up there have an axe over our heads now, and I am responding to that with extreme displeasure (and to a certain extent, contempt).
But heck, an agreement is an agreement and so if we are expected to product some results especially by a multinational corporation, we ought to shut up and get it done, no? (But that doesn’t mean we can’t curse and swear behind their backs, though.)
Health wise, it’s taken a nosedive ever since the Genting Trip. Was already experiencing some asthmatic symptoms (chest tightness - especially awaking every morning feeling as though something was crushing my torso) before the trip but things took a turn for the worse after I returned.
Apparently, some idiot (guess which one?) forgot to close the windows in the hotel room during the first night, resulting in yours truly catching a chill and having to wrap herself in two layers of blankets to keep warm, leading to sporadic bouts of sneezing over the next three days in Genting which then escalated into a full-blown cold (thankfully) only after I reached Singapore.
Oh, and in case you were wondering which idiot it was - that idiot was none other than myself. Opened the window to take a peek at the scenery upon checking into the hotel and then forgot to close it thereafter. The things I do to myself, aye?
Anyway, the cold has more or less disappeared, leaving behind bouts of giddiness and still, the same crushing feeling I experience every morning when I awake. Oh, and did I mention that I get breathless easily just by climbing stairs or walking long distances now? And I am sick and tired of squandering my precious allowance on taxi fare just because the bus stop is a rather long walk away from my home - so I forced myself to walk there to catch a bus down to my FYP meeting today. (Or yesterday, rather - since it’s after midnight now.)
Finally managed to spare the time to see my favourite doctor again today - to get more meds (since my monthly supply of lifetime medication was running low) and secondly, to make some noise regarding how I’ve been feeling as of late.
So basically, I’m put back on the stronger meds (Singulair - the ones I always take when I’m nearing or just recovering from an allergy reaction/asthmatic symptoms).
It was just unfortunate that the newbie receptionist had given me the wrong medicine because I suddenly found myself stuck with the cherry flavoured chewable tablet version of my usual medication which, when I researched on the internet, was supposedly meant for kids below the age of fourteen.
The best part? My doctor will be out of town from tomorrow until later in the week … which means I have to wait a while before I can get my correct meds.
Oh, and blood pressure is low again - hence the giddy spells. Am seriously contemplating taking a taxi down to school again later on (providing my finances permit), considering how the sun has been blazing hot as of late and well, I’ve a long walk to the bus stop. :(
03 June, 2008
Girls make better men than … men.
22:53:31 | People, Random Musing | writebacks (4)
If my friends and I were born male instead of female - I swear we’d make far better men than the existing men around. One phrase to describe today’s men, to sum them all up - chivalry is dead.
M and I reported for work (more exam invigilation … at 9 A.M. in the morning - an extremely unearthly time for me) and somehow found ourselves holding the glass doors open for one another at a 7-eleven store. (Imagine a glass door with two panels - me holding open one side and M holding the other side, basically staring at each other dumbly, unsure whom should go first.)
It happened again when we had to enter the building via another glass door.
That was when M concluded the whole situation with the title of this post - that girls (ahem, us) make far better men than err yes, men.
Why? Because we hold the doors open for each other (girls will most definitely appreciate that), offer to carry stuff for each other (again, another characteristic appreciated by girls) and the last quality that M swears I possess - that I swear like a bullet train. (Hehehehehe.)
In fact, it wasn’t just M and myself who would make good men.
Stef and I found ourselves somewhat stranded at the library in the afternoon after a sudden downpour and we had to part in different directions. That was when I offered to walk her to the bus stop since I had the good ol’ umbrella ella ella with me, or so I thought. (Okay, still about Brenda the MAN here but continue to read on!)
Realized later that I had already packed my umbrella ella ella into my baggage for tomorrow’s trip so I had none - which means that I can’t walk Stef to the bus stop, which also means that both us were back to square one - still trapped at the library. So much for being chivalrous. :(
Had to sit around and wait for the rain to stop in the end.
Following which, Stef offered to walk me to my destination - which was quite a considerable distance away. I agreed after a slight tussle. (Because it means troubling her, but she insisted she was fine with it.) So, she walked me to my destination. (See? Chivalrous Stef!)
And in return, I walked her to the nearest bus stop at my destination.
Basically, we were walking each other to and fro. (Which I thought was rather hilarious.)
Anyhoo, will be away for the next two and a half days or so. Will be at Pulau Sibu, Malaysia with several crazy people from early morning tomorrow, trekking (yay!), soaking up the sun (yay!), watching them snorkel and participate in water sports (because I can’t swim) and capturing photographs like mad (sunrise/sunsets there are supposed to be spectacular).
So … until then! (:
09 May, 2008
Guess who got locked in the toilet?
23:59:03 | Daily Life, People, Ranting | writebacks (9)
Aunt Olive treated part of the extended family to dinner at The Billard Room & Bar, Raffle’s Hotel this evening.
Buffet was adequate - seafood was good (didn’t break out into a rash or anything so I doubt I’m allergic to seafood as initially suspected), but the other dishes were more or less crap. Cousin David and I binged on the salmon sashimi (we’ve a weakness for it) and dessert. (David dove for the assortment of chocolates whereas I got myself addicted to the macaroons.)
Oh, I have pictures as well.
Anyway, before I begin to address the story at hand (I’m sure you’re all wondering who got locked in the toilet!), have an err … tiny rant.
I get miffed when relatives make remarks such as “you should dress like this more often” whenever I show up in something that I don’t usually wear.
(Strangely, friends who do the same thing don’t bother me as much.)
Like today for instance - I wore a dress to the family dinner. And everyone behaved as if the sky was going to fall down since well, I’m strictly a jeans/shorts + tee kind of person.
Then came the most annoying phrase - “You should dress like this more often.”
First of all, I do not put anyone in any position to tell me how I should dress, thank you. Secondly, you liking what you see doesn’t mean that I always have to dress like this … to please you.
So, when I shook my head firmly - no, they become all anguished and go “But whyyyyyyyy? You look nice like this! You’d REALLY ought to blah blah blah.”
I don’t believe I owe you an explanation for my choice of apparel, do I?
Okay, end of rant - back to the story at hand.
Following the dinner we proceeded to my aunt’s hotel room in the neighbouring Fairmont Hotel. (She booked a place there since she had a voucher entitling her to a free room after she joined their membership programme.)
Decent place, lovely view and the toilet was like whoa - white, classy and modern. (Although I can’t quite decipher why did they choose to have so many spotlights and mirrors in the bathroom. After all, it is supposed to be a bathroom, not some stage.)
Cousins settled on the bed with their eyes glued to the television set, while the adults settled at a nearby table for a round of cards.
That was when I decided to use the toilet. (For obvious reasons.)
Closed the door, latched it, did whatever I had to do, washed hands and then proceeded to unlock the door and get out.
The last two steps failed.
Stupid door refused to unlock. The stupid latch was jammed in place.
That was when I yelped, and sent everyone outside scurrying over to the toilet door. (At least, that was what I thought - because all of a sudden, I heard a lot of talking and footsteps outside my door.)
Then, I heard Aunty Olive yell.
“OH SHIT! I FORGOT TO TELL BRENDA NOT TO LOCK THE DOOR! THE LOCK IS SPOILT!”
Now, she tells me.
More murmurings could be heard from outside and I heard that apparently - my cousin David had been locked in this very same bathroom in the afternoon, and all efforts at prying the door open using normal means failed. Engineers had to be called in to force the door open with a screwdriver.
My Uncles then began using metal spoons to open the door in a similar fashion - but failed. The stupid door just refused to open.
Housekeeping was called to report the issue.
Ten minute later, no one had arrived and I was starting to get really agitated. (Yes, I know that the toilet is all modern and classy and all, but I wouldn’t like to be stuck there for an extended period of time with nothing to do except for when I need to have a good shit, thank you.)
Uncles continued to fiddle with the door, and even my mum and my grandmother attempted to have a go at attempting to open the door. Of course - likewise, all attempts failed.
Housekeeping was called again.
Still, no one arrived. Those bums were taking their own sweet time to tend to this issue.
Cousin David attempted to keep me company from outside the door (and likewise, also attempting to pry the lock loose), but it’s hard to have a normal conversation with someone when you can’t even see his face. (Perhaps the reason why I hate phone conversations.)
Then, one of my relatives dialed for the manager.
The doorbell rang within five minutes. More footsteps were heard as my relatives scurried over to the door. Then, I heard someone jiggling the handle, sounds of scraping metal and the next thing I knew - the door flew open.
Unfortunately, that’s not the end of the story.
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