Part-time Fund-raiser, Full-time Mishap

Pretty satisfying day at work, no matter there is bring-home-work to boot –  no complaints from this trigger-easy idealist here. Compared to some days I spend in a blur in the new environment – not learning, not conversing or interacting, only devising, trying to outwit, impress with proposals set in fancy Microsoft o-seven layouts (verve colour theme only), today the roads are definitely well-signposted, and my energies directed. Emotions proceeded in upwardly mobile fashion today.

11.30 am. Mild frustration: Coordinating and liasing out-of-jobscope affairs. Today trying very hard not to offend the visionary second boss, produce the work she wants, without losing sight of my own butt. Failed. Stepped on the toes of ideas, was stumbling block of lofty ngo development, for a minute. Yes definitely want to get my salt’s worth working in non-profit – that is why I am fiddling with thehumanrightsandthewomens(in)equality even though its not in paid job function. Price: Just have to toggle between being new at everything. Note to self: Don’t burn fingers.

2.30am. Necessarily Reassuring: Finally confidently cornered Mr Talk this afternoon and reviewed my workload and confirmed that the next serve in court is his, not mine. Big fat sponsor must not swim away under our noses he says. No way, not on my watch, Mr Talk.

5.30pm. Intense Gratefulness: Mr UndertheRadar’s unexpected helpfulness and patience today won me over- upon my desperate attempts to fix a falling excel workbork. This strongly reaffirms my belief that I work amongst the good people. Good people on the ground, good people high up the ladder. Walking people textbooks. UndertheRadar’s dexterity and sensible, practical nature shines in sharp contrast to my short-sighted soaring, expenseless nature. UndertheRadar’s workcred offers me much room for thought and improvement -someone who seems inconspicuous and unpromising on the outset, but whose abilities grow on you, and manages to wean off distrust over time – never mind he doesn’t deliver sometimes, because the times he does, it will always be appreciated.

The Best Save of all: And so I leave for work recharged. Because today has been a fruitful day. My own efforts over the last two weeks (which caused me to let visionary second boss’s visions slide) are bearing fruit: sponsors are getting back with interest. Working for a cause at the end of the day is the ultimate save-all. If you’ve had a goworkod day, great; but even if its been an absolutely thankless dreadful day, you’ll know that at least you’re not slaving your eyes out for corporate soul-less greedy nothings. You’re trying to find synergy among altruistic, if not, pure spirits in today’s dark world.

Filed under: daily grind, smilies, working world

confessions of not-a-shopaholic

A chickflick is something light and funny, flavorful but not heavy-handed with big pressing issues,while resonating with the everyday girl, yet comes with a button that magiks-away-the-shithappens scenarios; when you decide you’ve had enough of the empathy .

Offscreen girls like me build an appetite for onscreen girls in shows like these- the distressed but adorable female protagonist, her blundersome crisis-ridden life, the veritably polished wardrobe that defies her circumstance and her Ken who sweeps her off the story, seemingly accepting her, despite seeing her in her nuded flaws.

The moral of the story is usually cliche I can appreciate, but its volume totally amped up in the plots. In Confessions of a Shopholic, Rebecca Bloomwood finds wisdom in her path of recovery from debt – coindentally only from the male characters around her- that some people don’t want to be ‘branded’ in high fashion, and that at the end of the day, nothing defines you -not even the things you own- other than the ones you love. Note its how the men who forgive her. Because they can afford it. Daddy has a nice nest egg he can cash in anytime for his girl. Love interest is son of an English socialite- it doesn’t matter whether Bloomwood cannot earn an income.

More little annoyances follow. While in the movie, Bloomwood might be the new IT girl to turn ‘boring’ financial journalism into relational and humorous articles, only one-liner analogies are quoted from her purportedly sensational articles. Its a sham- if the writers should suggest Bloomwood realistic, give the audience more credit and give us more to chew on with the content. Nup, only one liners. Heck, we can all write our own Rebecca Bloomwoood columms, by pairing financial speak with fashion, one item at a time. I.e. Credit default swaps are like Chinese fake branded bags. High security investments with low pay-outs are like the Hermes scarves that never fail you in time. Banks with high interest rates are like pink Jimmy Choos. You get the drift.

The other annoying thing, is how lame the dialogue can get at times. Because she’s the IT girl of the show, everything she utters (totally worthless sometimes) tinkles on ears like music gilted in gold. None of them- Nokia Man, High Fashion Editor, nor Intellectual Financial Editor, nor a roomful of shopaholics anonymous can disagree with a word she says. They always sound like they hit empihany when she opens her mouth.  She breathes wisdom- with dialogue so bad, we cannot fathom why.

At the end of the day, I didn’t buy the show. I didn’t buy what I was supposed to resonate with. I didn’t buy the allures of consumption despite wholesome, seductive descripts. I didn’t buy the whole remedy of the climax- selling your clothes just isnt going to make you spending on more. In fact, it gave me a really vague and empty feeling, this utter lie of relying on material goods to find joy and happiness. Its not true. Shoppers aren’t naive like that.

Yet I didn’t find the whole experience of this movie too bad, it delivered its chickflick minimum requirements, but it just ‘doesn’t feel right’- to quote Rebecca Bloomwood in the show (when she had to turn down her dream job which would encourage more people to fall into debt).

Yea I know what I signed up for when I wanted to see such a show. And in a way, watching the show satiates me in someway. My question though is, Why do I bother  in the first place? Why, despite all the parts I find disagreeable, do I still feel satisfied?

Filed under: cringes , chickflick

the ghosts of your past

Not too long back, over sushi, hotpot and orangetomato sherbet,  I had a conversation with Debb:

Filed under: conversations, memories, places

“Blogging is dead”

Perhaps my brand of blogging was never alive and kicking anyway. Its not scandalous, its not current, its nowhere regular, its overtly personal, and sometimes a little too much ego- everything is about me-me-me.

I really like the old man barber tucked in a garage in this side lane in Little India – which I discovered from looking out of my window seat in the office. I’m gonna interview him soon… take a week’s worth of pictures perhaps and put it up here or somewhere else- who cares if blogging is dead. Its fun.

There are a lot of more reasons why I really adore the location of my current office. The wackiest characters you sight. The unadulterated pace of leisure- you find in the old, solvent, puberscent alike. Its an ease you’d be hard-pressed to find I daresay in most parts of urban or heartland Singapore: a skip in the step, a half-second lazy paddle on a bicycle with no helmet, a reflective moment over cold bean curd dessert.

It doesn’t hurt that my job is very much like its surroundings; that is- friendly, laidback, and with soul.

Filed under: daily grind, smilies