Seen.By.Ice.Queen: coming to my senses

I am 100% Singaporean. Born and bred, raised and stamped. 'Nuf said. I understand Singlish perfectly well. But am still proud to say that I know when to use it and when to bite it back and not let it slip past my tongue.

So I have a boy, now 6. From the time he started speaking, he went to a playschool located in Orchard. It was close by for convenience of drop-off and I liked the fact that it had a good make up. There was a good mix of expatriates and locals. Hence, the young one was surrounded with friends who are Africans, Americans, Europeans, Koreans, Japanese, Taiwanese, Chinese, Spanish etc., as well as, Singaporean Chinese, Indians, Eurasians...

Although I cannot validate the correlation, I had also noticed that the command of English in the centre was also less localized. When I was playschool-hunting, I walked in to a centre in a more neighbourhood environment (mind you, it was also a very reputable nursery). It so happened that the centre was closed for some administrative updates and only the principal was around at that point of time. Nevertheless, she very kindly attended to me and orientated me to the facility.

During the short 20 minute orientation, I could not help but be disturbed by the fact that her English was peppered with lots of 'lahs' and 'lors'. Disregarding that, I bolted (well, at least mentally) when she started making grammatical errors in her sentence structure while having a conversation with me.

Don't be mistaken, I am no teacher and I certainly am not claiming high levels of English proficiency but God forbid an educator in early childhood be exposing our young offsprings to a lack of language foundation when they are picking it up.

Anyway, my son entered the school in Orchard. It was all good until they had to close down the centre because their lease ran out.

Out of sheer frustration at their lack of notice, I refused to be transferred to another branch, choosing instead to source for another school.

We settled on a kindergarten along Bukit Timah. This is again another reputable pre-school that typically has an endless waiting list. I was just so lucky to be able to get a spot at short notice.

It's been almost 3 months since my boy attended this school and of late, horrified little me has been noticing his improvement in Singlish.

Just moments ago, I overheard him saying to our helper, "But you are in my room mah." (Faint... actually, double faint!)

All those years of proper English exposure in school and at home has been dinged by a mere 3 months in school!!!

I have since resorted to the 'fine' Singaporean way of corrective method. He is to be fined $0.10 for every lah, lor, mah, meh or the likes that he uses in his conversations. I can't help it, I am also Singaporean mah... (ooops!)

When I was 8, my English teacher said this to me, "Michelle, you're such a tom boy."

Reflecting on my childhood and teen years, I realize that she was spot on. Looking at me, not many people will agree cos I spot long hair and I do wear dresses. I'm not particularly boyish in my behavior, androgynous perhaps but not manly. Details I will spare but suffice to say that I'm quite a dude trapped in a woman's body.

As a kid, I was sorely disappointed every birthday cos I was always getting gifts of dolls when all I wanted was a remote control car. My step-dad was the only person who indulged my fancy for cars. He would regularly take me to the petrol kiosk and buy me the match box cars after topping up fuel.

Other times, I would have to satisfy myself with watching the boys in my class play with their remote control cars after exam. They'd never offer me the chance to play cos I'm a girl and I was just too shy to ask.

As a teen, I've always clicked better with boys than with girls. Even though I was from an all girls' school. My closer buddies were always guys. I guess I like them for their straight-talking, don't-give-me-no-shit style of interaction. If they didn't like you, they'd say it to your face instead of pretending to be OK and then gathering forces behind your back to whiplash you from the dark.

I also cannot stand manja (read: whiny) people and girls in general, tend to display that trait more openly. On a lesser scale, it gives me goosebumps (not the nice kind) and on the higher annoyance scale, it makes me want to gorge out their eyes (ok maybe not so violent but you get the idea)

I still like my guy friends but as I get older, I am starting to appreciate my girlfriends more. Maybe it's because they are ever so patient when it comes to listening to the same problem over and over again. Or that they are that much more intuitive in sensing your downtimes without having to hang a placard over your neck to proclaim that you are having that time of the month, hence back off.

Yesterday, after ploughing the length and breadth of chinatown, tiong bahru etc. looking for chinese dance shoes, and failing to find it, I posted an update of FB asking if anyone knew where to get them, elusive shoes. And lo and behold, a whole bunch of girlfriends left me various threads to hunt them down. So, guess what? I found the shoes. Well, not exactly the chinese dance shoes i was looking for (lady in the shop told me even the chinese dance girls are no longer wearing them, guess production has ceased) but I did find some comfortable canvas ballet pumps.

Thank you girlfriends! You have made this girlfriend a happy girl :D

PS: In case you are looking for ballet pumps or dancing shoes, go to Costumes Connection. They're located at:

Today is just one of those days where nothing seemed to be going my way. After a tiring and long rehearsal last night and finally settling in bed at 2am, I woke at 8 to go for a seminar that I signed up for with I-Pac (it talks about investment methods/styles).

Anyways, hauled my ass bright and early off the bed and headed into Shenton (read: expensive parking and ERP) only to find out when I arrived that the organizers failed to update me with the actual location of the seminar.

My original email gave me the impression it was supposed to be at their office but it was instead held at the American Club.

So ANW, didn't manage to attend the seminar. OKAY, since I'm already in town, let's go look for the Chinese dance pumps I've been hunting for (does anyone know where the heck I can get those soft soled Chinese dance flats in Singapore? leave me a comment if you do ya?). Hence, headed to Chinatown, strutted the length and breadth of the shops there in my new 4 inch heels (argh... my feet's killing me as I type). Not only did I not find the shoes, I encountered a bitchy auntie, who pretty much told me to go shop somewhere else if I didn't like her collection and pricing (bitch right!?)

Took my sorry ass to wisma next hoping to stock up some new lingerie from Cotton On Body. The collection (or maybe it's my mood today) sucked. Tried asking my friend who works at Wisma out for lunch and yes, Murphy's Law, she was on MC.

Pfft...

Finally decided to just head home and change out of my heels. Had a stopover at the Esso petrol kiosk near my place to top up petrol. When I was done paying and walking back to my car, the silver lining happened. The pump attendant uncle was practically washing my car! LOL...

Long story short, my car was covered in mud the past 2 days due to the horrific weather and I just did not get around to having it washed. So i guess the uncle just couldn't take how grimy my car was and decided to scrub it down as best he could at the pump.

And so, my horrifically 'everything-that-can-go-wrong-will-go-wrong' day got turned around just like that. By the angel that came in the form of a pakcik :)

So there, don't let your days be ruined by the ugly. Just focus on the beautiful.

OK. So that's a picture of a humongous bruise on my left thigh. So before you think I am a victim of abuse, let me clarify that the bruises are a pleasurable result of (now get your heads out of the gutter) pole dance.

Yep. I've been taking pole dance since early last year. Started with me watching news one night and they were talking about men in Beijing really catching on to the whole pole dancing thing and excelling in it cos of the advantage they have with better upper body strength. So no sleazy dimly lit club type of business going on there. Just pure sweat-breaking gymnastic work.

The next day, I read the same piece of news on the papers. And so it begins:

On MSN with my BFF
Me: babe, u wanna do pole dance not?
BFF: har? dun wan la (pause) r u serious?
Me: u know the men in BJ have been taking on that sport... blah blah blah...

To cut the long MSN conversation short, we signed up for the lessons at Groove Dance School that day and started our first lesson that very Sunday. And the rest, as they all say, is HISTORY. That was pole 1 and I am now at Pole 6. Spins, climbs, inverts, tricks... we've been going through the grind and come end April, I will be performing in one of the items for my schools' regular item called Groovy Nights together with other students and instructors.

The bruises you see, is the result of incessant practice at our rehearsal session, not to mention that 2 hours before rehearsal, I had my usual weekly pole class :S

So there.. painful but DEFINITELY pleasurable... sadistic. i know.. but it's not all pain and no gain. To look on the bright side, my arms are more sculpted now (yes, i was one of those unfortunate ones to be 'blessed' with fat arms, thanks to 'great' genes from my mom. still love u mummy!) and my behind looks just a tad perkier than it used to be :)

OVERHEARD

Character 1: young kindergarten boy
Character 2: mom of the boy

Boy: I love shoes you know
Mom: Ya me too
Boy: But I like boy shoes
Mom: I like boy shoes too. But I am luckier than you. I can wear boy shoes and I can also wear girl shoes
Boy: Not fair :(

It's great being a woman :D