I had a very interesting conversation recently about cruel Asians.
No, I’m not talking about Bridget Jones referring to Mark Darcy’s ‘cruel-raced ex-wife’. I’m talking about inconsiderate, self-centred and selfish Asian people – or to give it some context – Singaporeans.
I used to fantasise that I were secretly related to people I didn’t get along with.
The haughty office colleague, the unfriendly classmate, even the nasty lady at the gym who routinely dominated the squat bar, ruling her territory with fear and icy glares.
My idea of a perfect workday lunch involves a bowl of steaming U-mian, a pair of chopsticks in one hand and Lisbeth Salander in another. I’d sit in the farthest corner of the pantry eating messily and away from judging eyes, Lisbeth and her genius brain entertaining me for the next hour and feeling the liberation of not needing to wipe away my SULA (sweaty upper lip alert).
Cruises, vacations in Europe and basically everyone I know soaking in the Christmas spirit, here I am office-bound and in back-to-back meetings for most of the day. Still, I come armed with mom’s home-cooked food and the saving grace that is my colleagues’ bouillabaisse of quirky humour.
People play a huge role in affecting your mood at work, and I never understood this till I entered the workforce. Life as an ‘official adult’ isn’t as scary as one would think. Really, most of the time people are just as clueless as I am and are looking for the same answers I am.
It’s the Christmas season, and with that comes the inevitability of Bublé, Carey and Michaels (RIP).
The aforementioned, though most comforting – and whose music brings back fond memories of The Wongs annual Christmas parties which lasted throughout my childhood and up to the present day – has been devastatingly overplayed and is in dire need of some retirement, if only for 2017.
There are some songs that are so powerful, they reverberate through your core and turn you into a jelly bowl of nostalgia whenever played. I’m not sure how these things happen, or why, but they’re really dangerous – Especially if you’re at work without waterproof mascara.
I’ve been very much into the oldies wave recently – even more so than usual. I guess it’s more about the non-commital lyrics and repetitive melody that allows me easy concentration when I write.
Contrary to popular belief, it is extremely hard to find a decent playlist for writing. You’d think that lyric-less artistes like Pacific Moon, Lorena McKennit and (my personal favourite) Secret Garden, would aid in better focus; but no, quite the opposite.