Question: Why are we all wrapped up like mummies?

Think the concussion did some damage to my brain.

(A lil haphazardly put-together but...) More great poses from the rest of my 'mates (love you guys!):

Have you guessed the answer yet?

First-aid class.

And finally, because I can:

The One-Two-Five Manoeuvre (impossible-to-spell word)

Four Beauties

On my way to "school", munching on breakfast on the bus as usual.

On the Cusp of Shopaholism

Well enough about people who irritate you needlessly. Since my dad's in the bathroom, I might as well do more than stick up my side of the room and blog a bit more. I spent a hellava lot of money this month! In fact, ever since I realised my bank account would be receiving lumps of cash in a pattern regular enough to become predictable, I have let all my inhibitions loose. Too loose, in fact. In-excess-of-monthly-salary loose.

And there's no better indicator of how loose than by seeing my personal efforts at boosting the nation's economy, in a span of no more than 30 days:

Tops

Jackets

Bottoms

(Braveheart there isn't one of my purchases, by the way.

I've had him for almost two years lor.)

Footwear

Miscellaneous material guilty pleasures

Please someone tell me how to stop. Especially when I don't even want to!

Something Tells Me She'll Be Out of a Job Very Soon

NB: The following is true to the best of my memory.

I really ought to be more careful about giving out my phone number on street surveys that I do from now on.

On my way home, I received a phone call on my cell. Thinking it could be The Boyfriend (always important) or my mum (also pertinent that I answer the call), I fished for my phone while trying my best not to get tangled in the wires of my NEW! Creative Zen Neeon. (I couldn't resist.)

The number displayed on my cellphone was unfamiliar. Was it from the office? But at this hour? Couldn't be.

"Hello?" said I.

"Hello, good evening," came the muffly reply on the other side. Then, expectant silence.

"... Hello?" again, said I.

"Good evening."

Oh, okay lady, I get it. "Good evening."

"Yes, my name is Angel, I'm calling from Lifestyle Shopping. Do you remember completing any lucky draw form?"

And truthfully, I told, "No."

Her indignant reply: "No? What do you mean no? That you don't remember filling one up or that you didn't?"

"Well yes I do, but I'm always filling up lucky draw coupons." And I started putting up my defenses. Still, I was curious, and decided to play along.

"Well I am calling to inform you that you are one of 20 people to win our consolation prizes." Continuing in a highly scripted voice, and without waiting for me to respond (or maybe she sensed that I wasn't going to), she said, getting even more muffled like she was doing this in a place and/or time she wasn't supposed to, "You have won three items. (The first I forgot,) a luxury European timepiece worth $150, and a *muffly-muffled* trip to Thailand *muffly* eight to nine days worth *muffly* thousand dollars." A triumphant pause.

Ohhhhh, now I see where we're going. I decided to help her cut to the chase. "So I'm supposed to come down, but before I get my prizes I must listen to some seminar, right?"

This was right about when the lady started getting huffy. "We are not a timeshare or holiday chalet company, ma'am, nothing like that," the impatience in her voice getting obvious. Boy, this woman must've had a lot of rejected calls today. But so was I, so I told her that I thought she had a lousy attitude.

"When did I ever say we are a timeshare company, ma'am?" Blah. Blah blah blah blah blah.

Okay, fine. "So can you tell me where I filled in this form?"

Highly rehearsed voice: "Ma'am, I told you, it could be from any shopping centre, petrol kiosk, movie theatre, there are thousands and thousands of them, how can I tell you which? You are one of 20 people picked out from a thousand, how can we keep track of where you filled up your form?"

"So where did you say your office was?"

"Delfi Orchard."

"And what's your company called?"

"Lifestyle (something something, I can't remember)."

"I can forfeit my gifts, right?"

"Yes you can ma'am."

"Okay."

Silence.

More silence.

"Is there anything else?" I queried.

"So ma'am, do you want to come and pick up your prizes?"

"No, I'm going to forfeit them."

Too quickly, and in a fake-happy voice, "Okay, thank you, bye!"

Bitch, did you really think I was going to fall for that sorry excuse of a dupe? Dream on.

Geylang 101

As tempted as I am to bitch about the bee-yoh-ches at my training school, I won't, because I'm a scaredy-cat, and also because the culture of this particular company is such that gossip travels faster than wildfire, i.e. faster than anywhere else. Bloody hell.

But the same cannot be said of my batch mates, who are the probably the most fun-loving, unassuming bunch that could congregate in a little room by virtue of little other fact than that called "Chance" (or some might term it "Fate").

In the two months or so we've been together as a class, we've taken a truck-load of photos already, but these shall be the first time some of these faces grace this here Ms Coddle's blog.

Yesterday, at the behest of Ms Kho, we traipsed down to:

(please allow me this vanity shot.)

for some gastronomical delights.

And on a sidenote, went on a little educational tour.

But as I was informed that they were many watching them, the only picture I took of the ladies working the street was this:

In any case, it wasn't the Night Safari I was at. It was a real eye-opener, though, honestly. Previously, I'd only gone down these streets behind the safety of four doors, which is a completely different experience from physically walking down the roads and past the hourly-rated hotels. And it was a good thing that we went in a large group, because the boys were variously teased and groped at (in the balls no less), while men kept giving me and Jac especially the once-over.

At one point, because we were standing too long at the end of a street waiting for some of the boys to withdraw cash (there was a long queue caused by the uncles who were buying services that came on a cash-only basis), an old bespectacled peh peh even came up to me. Despite wearing a white polo tee and bank pants, funeral-style, and in the midst of tying my hair auntie-style, I was approached. I didn't hear very much of what he had to say however - I simply dived straight into the semi-circular safety zone formed by two of my batch boys who were standing nearby.

Don't get me wrong though, people. I wasn't there to pass judgements at the people who drive the trade, whether on the demand or supply side. I was just there to sample a sociological phenomenon that I would not otherwise get to see in my daily life. As sleazy the feelings you get from being there, I can't help but feel that such deviation from our otherwise squeaky-clean image just makes things more real. It is easy to go home to our comfy lives and think that that is all there is to life, period. But we are not a homogeneous society. These people have their reasons for being there and doing what they do, and whatever those reasons are, it is not for me to put a value on.

I was just there to get an education.

Why Wooden Is Golden

I just threw an ant out of the window. While sticking to my principle not to kill any living thing if I could help it, I don't think my actions are going to be appreciated very much by the little critter. Sigh, the problem with absolute power.

Faced with the annoyance that was the little ant crawling around on my table, I was faced with three options:

1) Snub out its life by rubbing it into a little ball;

2) Pick it up, still alive, and release it outside your window, letting the wind carry it wherever its whim decides; and

3) Ignore it.

I ruled out choice No. 1 because of the afore-mentioned principle not to kill living creatures, and decided against No. 3, which I had considered but rejected because of the possibility of having to deal with dozens more of its kind in the near future (experience tells me that if I let it go this time, it will run back to its nest and inform all its pals that there is a weak ruler out there, and they will wreak havoc on my table). And so, by elimination, I picked No. 2.

What would you have done? Of course, this is a mere ant we are talking about, but superimposing such a situation into something more realistic for eg. what if this were a human, and you were the absolute ruler of a small island, and whatever you did to this person would have absolutely no impact on you, at least not in this realm, but would completely devastate the person's life?

Of course, the most responsible action to take was not included in the possible options to take: that is, Keep Your Room Clean and Tidy and Never Eat In It Again So As Not To Tempt Ants To Come By Looking For Crumbs, Thereby Irritating The Hell Out of You. But we tend to put the blame on others and then choose the easiest way out, which more often than not has negative repurcussions. Maybe not on you (for the time being anyway), but for other people.

What's the point of all this?

I lost my camera.

Well, actually, the camera my dad bought my sis, which made the whole things worse. It happened two Fridays ago, and I was so upset over it it was the only thing I could blog about, yet I couldn't, because you see I didn't want to tell my family that I freaking lost the $600+++ camera.

So why am I blogging about it now? Because it has been replaced, and, since I have served my penance, I can hence let the world know that I lost it out of sheer carelessness (and fatigue). Shan't go into the story of how it happened because it really doesn't matter anymore, but here's the new baby!:

Look how pretty and shiny it is. Its surface reflected my hands holding the camera that was taking its picture! I call it Dimage X1 No. 2, in memory of its predecessor, Dimage X1 No. 1. May she rest in peace. (And may the person who took it and kept it for himself/herself, if that is indeed what he/she did, never find a charger for the camera.)

If you realise, this is a Konica Minolta, the manufacturer which has only recently announced that it is pulling out from the digicam market. So, despite there being an IT fair going on right now, The Boyfriend and I were unable to get my replacement there, because lo and behold, K-M wasn't even a participant in the event. (We suspect it pulled out last minute because The Boyfriend saw its name in an ad publicizing the fair just the day before its commencement.)

Anyway, all credit goes to The Boyfriend, who kept an eye on online auctions for me for second-hand Dimage X1s (we narrowly missed out on one, which was sold for $400), who checked out the participating companies at the fair as aforementioned, and finally, who went down to Mustafa and bargained unsuccessfully with the sour counter men there. I whinged and I whined, but ultimately, he was the one who did all the dirty work for me.

What's there not to love?