What is it about travelling that can be quite lonely? I used to aspire to be one of those fast-walking, always in a hurry executives with a Berry in one hand, swiftly maneuvering their Tumi carry on case through the airport crowd.
Now I am one of them, but I sometimes dread it. The social chatter, company dinners, the facade one puts up in the many hushed conversations in hotel lobby lounges. I especially hate foreign hotel rooms, and can hardly sleep well. That's been a problem since I was a child, this inability to fall asleep in a foreign place.
And tomorrow I face a room full of more questions on the 3 reports I'm going to talk about.
The Fullerton hotel is surprisingly not as impressive I thought it would be. The room is small, the size of my room at home, which I'm happy with at home, but not for a 5-star hotel. But I'm just happy with the small things - finding a nice enough laundry bag and toiletries to hoard and take back home.
Ahh the little hobbies that keep life simple.
--------------
Would I date a guy who likes the simple things, and doesn't mind staying at home? Well, I've tried dating "exciting" and all i remember of our times together is hanging out in nightspots with like 30 other people I've never met before. He'd probably stay out late drinking, and after awhile I'd get tired of tagging along, preferring to stay at home, and sooner or later, we'd fall apart.
Not too exciting then, huh? But how do you bring exciting to the guy who likes simple things, mix em both together and find a cocktail mixture for a life together?
----------------
Sleepy already. Time to sink back into the sheets and dream a little dream.
Good night.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
all the simple things
I just emerged from one of the worst results week ever. End-February is usually not a good month to pursue anything at all, not even sleep, because that's when almost 100% of companies under one's coverage choose to release their full year '10 results.
And the way those companies approach this is akin to a horde of bargain-hungry old aunties making a concerted beeline for that cheap bag in Chatuchak market.
The last day of the week was finished off with 3 companies reporting and all I did Friday was stay on an adrenaline high pushing out note after note after note. I thank the cheeses that 2 were in line and only one resulted me in having to scurry panickedly to their head office in KL Sentral in a thunderstorm on PUBLIC TRANSPORT to listen to why their earnings were 65% above my forecasts.
By the time all the notes were finished and I handed over to my assistant in India to do the housekeeping and standardizing and formatting, it was 230am. I'd been working for 19 hours.
Then tomorrow I fly out for a week on the road to Singapore and Hong Kong, with my reports and game face in tow.
After an excruciating time, you know what's the only thing I want? A hairwash. Visit a furniture shop. Sleep.
The phrase 'all the simple things' is really underrated.
And the way those companies approach this is akin to a horde of bargain-hungry old aunties making a concerted beeline for that cheap bag in Chatuchak market.
The last day of the week was finished off with 3 companies reporting and all I did Friday was stay on an adrenaline high pushing out note after note after note. I thank the cheeses that 2 were in line and only one resulted me in having to scurry panickedly to their head office in KL Sentral in a thunderstorm on PUBLIC TRANSPORT to listen to why their earnings were 65% above my forecasts.
By the time all the notes were finished and I handed over to my assistant in India to do the housekeeping and standardizing and formatting, it was 230am. I'd been working for 19 hours.
Then tomorrow I fly out for a week on the road to Singapore and Hong Kong, with my reports and game face in tow.
After an excruciating time, you know what's the only thing I want? A hairwash. Visit a furniture shop. Sleep.
The phrase 'all the simple things' is really underrated.
Monday, February 14, 2011
har, no old newspapers ar?
That was what the incredulous Bangla slash Paki slash I don't really know what race worker from the main contractor's office said to me, crouched by the base of my backyard wall.
This follows two weeks of uncertainty over whether the leaking water from my unit (which caused a dramatic lift breakdown a month back) was due to my renovating contractor's error or the main contractor's (if it was the latter, it meant no huge repair bill on my hands).
After establishing that my own contractor did not hack the pipes in the floor (where the supposed leak was coming from), I was pretty happy to sit back, take leave and let the main con drill / fix / hammer / dig whatever needed to be done. Do not fancy waking up to leaking tiles and smelly water.
The worker asked me for old newspaper and I realized that I had glossies upon glossies of InStyle and Elle Decor, but not a shred of old newspapers anywhere.
Moral of the story, however abstract and meaningless it may seem -
1) Print is going down the toilet in favour of digital media, as the younger population takes over
2) Always doggedly pursue a matter and postulate all avenues of possibilities to ensure you achieve your aim of passing the blame to someone else. I spent days drawing mental issue trees in my mind trying to come up with different scenarios which had the highest likelihood of resulting in me not having to pay for repairs.
So this is what I'm spending Valentine's Day doing. Listening to drilling sounds in my backyard area with my legs propped up on my sofa bench, popping kuih bangkit in my mouth and wondering if I should chop off my hair.
This also means, I am not at work.
Ya-the-HOO!!
This follows two weeks of uncertainty over whether the leaking water from my unit (which caused a dramatic lift breakdown a month back) was due to my renovating contractor's error or the main contractor's (if it was the latter, it meant no huge repair bill on my hands).
After establishing that my own contractor did not hack the pipes in the floor (where the supposed leak was coming from), I was pretty happy to sit back, take leave and let the main con drill / fix / hammer / dig whatever needed to be done. Do not fancy waking up to leaking tiles and smelly water.
The worker asked me for old newspaper and I realized that I had glossies upon glossies of InStyle and Elle Decor, but not a shred of old newspapers anywhere.
Moral of the story, however abstract and meaningless it may seem -
1) Print is going down the toilet in favour of digital media, as the younger population takes over
2) Always doggedly pursue a matter and postulate all avenues of possibilities to ensure you achieve your aim of passing the blame to someone else. I spent days drawing mental issue trees in my mind trying to come up with different scenarios which had the highest likelihood of resulting in me not having to pay for repairs.
So this is what I'm spending Valentine's Day doing. Listening to drilling sounds in my backyard area with my legs propped up on my sofa bench, popping kuih bangkit in my mouth and wondering if I should chop off my hair.
This also means, I am not at work.
Ya-the-HOO!!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
some girls actually do have balls
Why is it some girls just have to put others down?
A female client put me through the grill and shredder this week. I have learnt that the client is not always smarter than you (as they have to cover more markets) and probably just want to impress on other people that they are smart.
Because frankly, her line of questioning didn't go anywhere except to contradict whatever I said. It got to the stage where she contradicted me back to the point where we started, and ended up contradicting herself in the process, which I calmly and sweetly pointed out by saying "Ahh, which is back to what I mentioned earlier at the beginning, where blablabla.."
She wouldn't give up, and started a whole new line of questioning which was utterly pointless save to probably drive home the point that 1) she totally doesn't have a life that she has to torment others, 2) she is superior than me cos she's my client and I have to take it and 3) her being fat and ugly must really be a thorn in her backside that she has to overcompensate elsewhere.
I have learnt patience. Yoda. Actually, you can't not have learnt it in this job where you meet literally hundreds of clients. Forced by circumstance, not choice.
------------
Except today I got so PMS-y I whined and whined about my assistant to my boss. An office-ful of guys sometimes don't get the point, because he said, "This is a problem. It needs to be fixed. Fix it like this. Otherwise, we fire him."
*rolls eyes*
I don't want to get anyone fired. I just want to rant, lah.
A female client put me through the grill and shredder this week. I have learnt that the client is not always smarter than you (as they have to cover more markets) and probably just want to impress on other people that they are smart.
Because frankly, her line of questioning didn't go anywhere except to contradict whatever I said. It got to the stage where she contradicted me back to the point where we started, and ended up contradicting herself in the process, which I calmly and sweetly pointed out by saying "Ahh, which is back to what I mentioned earlier at the beginning, where blablabla.."
She wouldn't give up, and started a whole new line of questioning which was utterly pointless save to probably drive home the point that 1) she totally doesn't have a life that she has to torment others, 2) she is superior than me cos she's my client and I have to take it and 3) her being fat and ugly must really be a thorn in her backside that she has to overcompensate elsewhere.
I have learnt patience. Yoda. Actually, you can't not have learnt it in this job where you meet literally hundreds of clients. Forced by circumstance, not choice.
------------
Except today I got so PMS-y I whined and whined about my assistant to my boss. An office-ful of guys sometimes don't get the point, because he said, "This is a problem. It needs to be fixed. Fix it like this. Otherwise, we fire him."
*rolls eyes*
I don't want to get anyone fired. I just want to rant, lah.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
asking the world of me
The world, is asking the world of me.
I don't think I'm up for it. Initiating on a whole new company in a week, from modelling to report, is simply.... impossible. Try doing that when you're busy downgrading somebody else, meeting clients, going on conference calls, and having a useless associate who "forgets" to do the work and slinks off quietly from the office.
And has the ballsiness to, on the first day of the job, ask me to put his name together on my reports. And wants to email the big boss directly to ask, as if he's worried I will be selfish and won't ask.
What the *toot*.
-------------------------
Was so exhausted I just COULDN'T get out of bed today. So here I sit at 9am, waiting for the jam to clear so I can head to the office. Plus a major hangover from a client dinner last night.
Still don't know if it's worth it. I'll check back in when the bonus comes.
I don't think I'm up for it. Initiating on a whole new company in a week, from modelling to report, is simply.... impossible. Try doing that when you're busy downgrading somebody else, meeting clients, going on conference calls, and having a useless associate who "forgets" to do the work and slinks off quietly from the office.
And has the ballsiness to, on the first day of the job, ask me to put his name together on my reports. And wants to email the big boss directly to ask, as if he's worried I will be selfish and won't ask.
What the *toot*.
-------------------------
Was so exhausted I just COULDN'T get out of bed today. So here I sit at 9am, waiting for the jam to clear so I can head to the office. Plus a major hangover from a client dinner last night.
Still don't know if it's worth it. I'll check back in when the bonus comes.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Bonjour 2011
It's 2011, and I'm settling down to have my breakfast cum lunch meal of self-prepared seafood fusilli marinara.. at 530pm in the evening. The London sale buys are scattered haphazardly around my sofa and living room, evidence of a pretty disorganized unpacking strategy.
"Oooh these are the shoes i bought!" *tries on* *hmm looks good..* *then gets distracted*
"But what's this? Aaah my 50-pound Karen Millen dress which used to be 250 pounds!!* *grabs dress to try on, and shoes lie forgotten*
Repeat for the next 5 handbags, 2 pairs of shoes, 8-9 boxes of sprungli and laderach chocolates, tea boxes, soaps, accessories.
Flew home from my Europe holiday, and flew right into 2011.
The reality of the matter is, after spending the bulk of last year on sleepless nights, report launches, and killing myself over my job, I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself in 2011. All I know is I do NOT want a repeat of 2010, which explains why I told my boss yesterday I want another day's leave today to spend it curling up with vongole, blogging and distracting my friends who all went back to work today. I had to settle a whole lot of personal admin stuff like paying bills, doing laundry etc, but it's extremely boring to talk about one's laundry.
But shall I tell you about Paris? Yes, I shall. It started on a pretty sad foot (literally!) as I got hit with a bout of rheumatism on my legs. Yeah, shut up. Rheumy Achilles tendons are for 70 year olds apparently, but I've had them off and on since I was 10. It hits every time I sleep without covering my ankles in a blanket, and stupid me slept that way in the middle of a London winter.
Asking to die, seriously.
So we were waiting at the Gare du Nord metro for the train to go to our hotel when an old French dude taps me on the shoulder and starts sputtering away in French, pointing at my limping leg. I started stammering... "aahhh.. Je ne... parle pas..." when he said the word "Massage". So i decided it would be much easier to nod and say "oui, oui" than attempt to carry on a conversation with the ancient old dude who probably lived through the French revolution.
The rest of Paris, minus the bad leg, was breathtaking. Especially the *only* RM3k large Epi leather Noir LV Speedy I managed to bag! Those sort of price tag is unheard of! Oh but yes, the view from the Sacre Coeur was similarly mindblowing, too. This picture does not do it justice.
It was just very cold. Nearly got frostbite waiting at Trocadero to see the Eiffel Tower light up. And my ears nearly fell off in pain wandering around St Germain des Pres on an escargot hunt. The Notre Dame was depressing, mainly because we kept being accosted by people asking for donations and because I secretly am afraid of the Hunchback. And the only thing I remember from visiting the world-famous treasure trove of masterpieces and historical objets d'art, also known as the Louvre, is this picture.
C'est Paris pour vous.
"Oooh these are the shoes i bought!" *tries on* *hmm looks good..* *then gets distracted*
"But what's this? Aaah my 50-pound Karen Millen dress which used to be 250 pounds!!* *grabs dress to try on, and shoes lie forgotten*
Repeat for the next 5 handbags, 2 pairs of shoes, 8-9 boxes of sprungli and laderach chocolates, tea boxes, soaps, accessories.
Flew home from my Europe holiday, and flew right into 2011.
The reality of the matter is, after spending the bulk of last year on sleepless nights, report launches, and killing myself over my job, I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself in 2011. All I know is I do NOT want a repeat of 2010, which explains why I told my boss yesterday I want another day's leave today to spend it curling up with vongole, blogging and distracting my friends who all went back to work today. I had to settle a whole lot of personal admin stuff like paying bills, doing laundry etc, but it's extremely boring to talk about one's laundry.
But shall I tell you about Paris? Yes, I shall. It started on a pretty sad foot (literally!) as I got hit with a bout of rheumatism on my legs. Yeah, shut up. Rheumy Achilles tendons are for 70 year olds apparently, but I've had them off and on since I was 10. It hits every time I sleep without covering my ankles in a blanket, and stupid me slept that way in the middle of a London winter.
Asking to die, seriously.
So we were waiting at the Gare du Nord metro for the train to go to our hotel when an old French dude taps me on the shoulder and starts sputtering away in French, pointing at my limping leg. I started stammering... "aahhh.. Je ne... parle pas..." when he said the word "Massage". So i decided it would be much easier to nod and say "oui, oui" than attempt to carry on a conversation with the ancient old dude who probably lived through the French revolution.
The rest of Paris, minus the bad leg, was breathtaking. Especially the *only* RM3k large Epi leather Noir LV Speedy I managed to bag! Those sort of price tag is unheard of! Oh but yes, the view from the Sacre Coeur was similarly mindblowing, too. This picture does not do it justice.
It was just very cold. Nearly got frostbite waiting at Trocadero to see the Eiffel Tower light up. And my ears nearly fell off in pain wandering around St Germain des Pres on an escargot hunt. The Notre Dame was depressing, mainly because we kept being accosted by people asking for donations and because I secretly am afraid of the Hunchback. And the only thing I remember from visiting the world-famous treasure trove of masterpieces and historical objets d'art, also known as the Louvre, is this picture.
C'est Paris pour vous.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
my best days...
Blowing out the candles on another birthday cake,
Old enough to look back and laugh at my mistakes,
Young enough to look at the future and like what I see,
My best days are ahead of me.
Nobody could have sung it better than David Gokey.
The days I've been waiting for are here. The beginning of the end of the year.
It all started in Tokyo. Ahhh, Tokyo. From stealing the cute Mandarin Oriental packaged tiny sugar cubes wherever I went (and that included while having tea with the CEO), to stepping front and backing off from the toilet seat in Nobu Tokyo just to see the sensor-automated toilet lid flip up and down, to downing sake in an irreverent atmosphere at a Tokyo National museum gallery that was specially booked by our company for a client event (at night too, no less!), to partying like it was 2012 with newly-made friends at two Roppongi Hills clubs til 5am, it almost made the year worth it.
The Japanese sure know how to party, and they're really good at lip-synching to the most popular American tunes today. Imagine swirling your whiskey glass in the underground basement of a totally non-descript building which resembles a warehouse, with tons of Japanese guys and girls smiling at you, while all of you are singing together to the song "Empire State of Mind". Nooo York..... concrete jungle where dreams are made, oh....
Price-freaking-less.
Sitting on a park bench watching the world go by, and a couple at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon in Roppongi Hills.
So Tokyo, Hong Kong and Singapore are down. Tonight I fly to the land of Swiss cheese and ski resorts.
See you in Zurich.
Old enough to look back and laugh at my mistakes,
Young enough to look at the future and like what I see,
My best days are ahead of me.
Nobody could have sung it better than David Gokey.
The days I've been waiting for are here. The beginning of the end of the year.
It all started in Tokyo. Ahhh, Tokyo. From stealing the cute Mandarin Oriental packaged tiny sugar cubes wherever I went (and that included while having tea with the CEO), to stepping front and backing off from the toilet seat in Nobu Tokyo just to see the sensor-automated toilet lid flip up and down, to downing sake in an irreverent atmosphere at a Tokyo National museum gallery that was specially booked by our company for a client event (at night too, no less!), to partying like it was 2012 with newly-made friends at two Roppongi Hills clubs til 5am, it almost made the year worth it.
The Japanese sure know how to party, and they're really good at lip-synching to the most popular American tunes today. Imagine swirling your whiskey glass in the underground basement of a totally non-descript building which resembles a warehouse, with tons of Japanese guys and girls smiling at you, while all of you are singing together to the song "Empire State of Mind". Nooo York..... concrete jungle where dreams are made, oh....
Price-freaking-less.
Sitting on a park bench watching the world go by, and a couple at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon in Roppongi Hills.
So Tokyo, Hong Kong and Singapore are down. Tonight I fly to the land of Swiss cheese and ski resorts.
See you in Zurich.
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