Veni, Vedi, Vici

Thank you! Thank you for your attention!

Henceforth, I will be blogging at my new blog.

Hope to see you there!

*violins fade and curtains fall*

Hey all, sorry for the long hiatus. I’ve been alternating between travel, flat-out-stress and depression these last few months. But I’m good.

I was filling out one of those random surveys the other day. You know, the kind you do when you are bored… Or procrastinating. This one rated how spoilt you are based on how you scored, and generally speaking points were awarded for material things owned and lifestyle. Doing that dumb quiz made me think about what I had and how I lived my life, not to mention what society-at-large thinks a good lifestyle should be.

Admittedly, I scored on the higher end of the spoilt-scale. I know I’m blessed, and I seriously thought about the matter for a bit. It seems to be the expected norm nowadays for people to buy and consume expensive stuff. In short, what used to be a luxury is now considered to be a necessity. Don’t believe me?

Young kids wearing Ralph Lauren. Students toting Louis Vuitton and Gucci bags to lecture theaters. Sixteen year olds demanding diamond jewellery for their birthdays. Young twenty-somethings who will only wear Armani Exchange, Boss, Marc Jacobs or some other suitably expensive designer. Young adults forking over thousands for Prada sunglasses when they can ill-afford it. I can provide lots more examples but you know what I mean.

It’s crazy! So what if you carry a Prada or Padini bag? So what if your polo tee is by Ralph Lauren or Giordano? If you are aged +/-25 or under, the chances are that even if you own genuine designer goods and wear them proudly, PEOPLE WILL THINK THE ITEMS ARE FAKES. Yup, that’s the harsh truth. The tiny Dior handbag that girl took into the lecture hall? I think it’s a fake. The sparkling diamond ring that other girl is wearing in the cafeteria? I’ll bet she got it from a costume jewellery shop. And that guy flashing his latest model phone around with that loud, annoying ringtone? Well, the phone is real but he’s a jackass.

I think the whole materialism thing has gone too far. All the subliminal messages in advertising and the media insist that if you own this, you’re cool. If you buy that, you’ll be hot and sexy. If you wear this, people will like you. Es-keeews me, but is this still kindergarten? I know I liked playing with my neighbours because they had the Optimus Prime figurine from Transformers (now THAT was pretty cool). But nowadays? NO! Lots of expensive, branded things does NOT equal cool. It just means that you are gullible. (In which case, email me because I’m selling this new cool thing that you absolutely MUST HAVE!!!)

I’m not against nice things though. I like nice stuff just as much as any other person. However, they are not the whole point of my life and neither do I obsess about owning them. The last time I went shopping was more than a month ago and only as a favour to help someone choose a present. I have perfumes, but I can only use one at a time. I have watches, but I can’t wear them because of my medical condition (doctor’s orders, massive ganglion on my left wrist). The only true designer item I own are my sunglasses which were a reward from Mum because I aced my high school finals. Besides, I got them 6 years ago, waaayyy before it was the cool thing to do.

*cat who found the cream smile*

Honestly, cliched as it may be, it is the character that counts. The friend who doesn’t give up on you, the guy who gives up his seat to an old man, the salesgirl who can smile and say "Thank you" after serving a difficult customer, the man who can be loyal to his wife till the day they die. Now these people are cool, man. And I want be like them.

I met up with a long time friend the other day. We haven’t spoken in years and she is just as I remember her. She’s the opposite of what I am in so many ways; loud, expressive, risk-taking, always on the move, always onto something new, living for the moment, knowing what she wants and doing all she can to get it right NOW!. She doesn’t ‘get’ a lot of the things I do and frankly, I don’t ‘get’ her way of living either. But I think we see what we could have been, in each other. It’s like a glimpse into the other life we each would be living if we had played our cards differently.

Of course, when girls get together a must-have is the topic of each other’s love life. My contribution to the discussion was small as I am still happily in the same relationship that she heard about the last time we met. On the other hand, she had lured, devoured and spat out a veritable mountain of men in the same amount of time, leaving behind a trail of battered, broken and bleeding hearts from here to Kuala Lumpur. A true MANEATER… She was regaling me with tales of her best-looking guy so far when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence and turned her sharp eyes on me. (Let’s call her Sky)

Sky: *intense look* Actually, how long have you been together with your boyfriend?

Me: *wilting a little under that stare* Er, 3 years in March 2007… Why?

Sky: *frowns a bit* Have you ever cheated on him?

Me: *eyebrows shoot up in horror* NO!

Sky: *grows skeptical* You’ve NEVER, EVER cheated? On ANY of your boyfriends?

Me: *eyes narrowing* NO. I. HAVE. NEVER. CHEATED. What is this about?!

Sky: *looks puzzled* You’ve never even made out with another guy in these 3 years?

Me: NO! Why do you ask?!

Sky: Then how the hell do you manage to stay with one, *shakes her finger at me* only ONE guy for three years?!?!

Me: *confused* …..

Sky: *hands gesticulating wildly* I mean, you don’t get xian (bored) one meh? I cannot tahan for so long you know. What’s so great about your boyfriend?

Me: Er… Um…

Sky: It can’t be his money, right? It’s not as if you need money! Truthfully, he’s not that good-looking also. *her eyes suddenly grow huge* I know why….

Me: *squeaks* Why….?

Sky: He must be the first guy you had sex with! That’s why you are still with him!

Me: *utterly flabbergasted* NO! Good God! Where did you get that idea from?!

Sky: *disappointed* Then why?

Me: *decides to get the conversation back under control* You know how difficult it is for me to find a guy that appeals to me…

Sky: *thinks back* True…

Me: And he can actually understand me very well…

Sky: But you are in AUSTRALIA! There are cute guys, like, EVERYWHERE!! If I were you, *humphs* I think I’ll go crazy.

Me: *considers* But looks don’t do it for me. Even if he’s super cute, I’m not going to find him sexy if I think he’s stupid, right?

Sky: So you like the very ‘cheem’ (deep) kind of guy?

Me: Er, not really. I should be able to talk with him, so he should be around my level…

Sky: *intense look again* So is this the longest relationship you’ve had?

Me: *wary* Yessss. Before this was 1 yr 10 mths, before that was 7 mths.

Sky: *thinks for a while*

Me: *grows nervous*

Sky: So are you going to marry him?

Me: *sputters*

Sky: *matter of fact* You might as well, since you’ve been looking at his face for so long and you’re not bored yet.

Me: I don’t know! How can I answer you? See how it goes-lah! It’s not time yet, I think. And it’s not like he has asked me anything…

Sky: *tilts head to the side* If he asks you now, would you say yes?

Me: *chews on bottom lip* Maybe… *chews some more* Most likely… I think…

Sky: *gives me a long look* Well, just send me the invitations when the time comes.

Me: *determined to change the topic* So, what do YOU look for in your guys?

Sky: He must be fun, happening, rich, Of course he should look good… Oh, and he should… (continues talking)

Me: *phew*

She had to leave soon after that. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be around her. Back then, she would be a hurricane of activity, running all over the place and talking ten different things at once. I was like the eye of the storm, coming along at my own leisurely pace while she stormed all around me. She hasn’t changed one bit, which makes me smile. It takes more effort for me to keep up with her though.

Maybe I’m getting old.

To all those affected by the floods, my prayers are with you.

We all woke up with the same thought in our heads, "Disneyland today!" Breakfast was hurriedly consumed and we were all waiting in the lobby for the mini-bus to be brought around when someone had that fateful idea to buy some food from 7-11 first. Drat that cheesy bun…

Anyway, we were supposed to spend the later half of the day at Disneyland. First on the itinerary were two obligatory visits to a jewellery factory outlet and a TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) outlet. The HK govt had stakes in both establishments, if not a controlling majority share. Our group being seasoned travellers, we recognised those places as tourist traps and were in and out of there in record time. Back in the minibus, someone asked our disinterested tour-guide why we couldn’t just skip the visits to these places.

Fellow tourist 1: Eh Stanley, why do we still have to go to these places when YOU know and THEY know that we won’t buy anything? Waste time-lah..

Tour-guide: *shrugs* Government owned-mah, have to support our local economy.

Fellow tourist 2: But we are on holiday here, already supporting your economy!

Tour-guide: Aiyah, you don’t have to buy anything you don’t want to, but we have to take you here first. If not, you might spend it all buying souvenirs at Disneyland, nothing left to spend elsewhere.

Whole bus: ….. *sweat*

Disneyland was cool… I loved the shows! They were great to watch and brought me right back to my childhood. I felt like a kid again. The rides generally catered more to the under 12 age group, with Space Mountain being the exception. However, Space Mountain wasn’t all that scary to me. I think it was a little more terrifying for my brothers since there was not much head-room and my brothers are tall. They had to duck their heads for fear of losing them (literally) as the ride hurtled at top speed along the tracks, in darkness (it’s space, after all) with steel bars and support beams criss-crossing mere inches overhead. The ride ended with a camera taking your picture as it rounds the last corner at high speed and stops suddenly. You can see my brothers trying to make themselves as short as possible.

I’m not quite sure what the guy in front is doing though… And my eyes were still swollen.

The day ended with the nightly fireworks show at Sleeping Beauty’s castle. It was a breath-taking display, with the fireworks synchronised with the swelling orchestra music playing familiar theme songs from classic Disney cartoons. After the last fireworks exploded in a blaze or light, the crowd sighed in appreciation and there was a light smattering of applause.

As we turned away from the castle, Main Street lighted up in front of us, beckoning with cheery Christmas music. As the crowd slowly walked down Main Street, ’snow’ started falling. Well, it wasn’t real snow, just small flecks of foam sprayed over the crowd as we walked to the exit. Nevertheless, with the castle behind us, the gigantic Christmas tree in front of us, bright lights, cold weather and music all around and ’snow’ falling, there was some sort of magic in the air. It was like a fairytale, a dream from long ago. People all around were smiling and laughing, kids were jumping up and down trying to catch ’snowflakes’and no one was in a hurry to leave. I felt like a fairytale princess in my own private kingdom.

I’m no kid nor am I a hopeless romantic. I’ve been to theme parks all around the world with more exciting rides, cheaper souvenirs and more plentiful seating. Heck, I’ve even visited Disneyland Japan (many years ago). However, Disneyland HK beats them all hands down in terms of ambience and atmosphere. If you ever get the chance to visit, I strongly reccommend staying for the fireworks, which is the last event before closing.

P.S. Do try and visit on a Tuesday or Wednesday, it won’t be as crowded.

The first night in Hong Kong was packed with activity. We took an ‘optional’ night time tour of the city’s attractions that included dinner, a visit to Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum and Victoria Peak. Price: HKD$320. Dinner was so-so. Naturally, it was at a Chinese restaurant, this being Hong Kong and all.. As we had muslims in our group, there was a hurried conference with the restaurant manager to substitute some dishes with more acceptable ones. Nevertheless, every dish with meat in it was still nervously approached.

Muslim guy 1: *waves chopsticks at the dish* What meat is this?

Indian guy 1: *pops it in his mouth and chews thoughtfully* I think it’s chicken..

Muslim lady 1: *stares at him* Are you sure?

Chinese guy 1: Ummm, I think you should eat the prawns first.

Muslim lady 2: *directs look of horror at her plate* Alamak, I took some already!

Chinese ladies 1 & 2: *muttering to each other* Aiyoh, they rugi-lor like that, cannot eat half the things we can..

After dinner, we were taken via bus to Hong Kong’s tallest mountain, Victoria Peak (also fondly referred to as just ‘the Peak’). I was reminded of family trips to Genting Highlands as the bus negotiated the curves of the road up the mountain. The lights inside the bus were turned off as we cleared the foothills and we were treated to a spec-TA-cular view of Hong Kong’s nightscape. The occupants of the bus seemed to gasp breathlessly and reach for their digital cameras as one. In what seemed like a synchronised action, my night-vision was blasted to smithereens when all those digital cameras went off together. Flash-light exploded inside the bus and bounced off the darkened glass of the windows, ruining everyone’s shot. I sighed and closed my eyes for the next 3 minutes until the camera-happy people realised that:

1. They cannot get a good night-shot from inside a moving vehicle.

2. They cannot get any shot AT ALL with the camera flashing on the glass directly in front of them.

3. They should just sit down and enjoy the view since they cannot capture a good photo at all.

When we arrived at the Peak, I was surprised to see that it boasted a high-end shopping complex and multi-storey car park! I got a bit confused as I had pictured a simple gravel clearing where vehicles can park and where lovers made-out, like in those HK movies. Apparently, I was misled. In the words of the tour guide (directly translated from Cantonese), "They making romantic movie mah, include so many tourists where got romantic? So they film in the side road lor.." Orh, I see.. The shopping complex had fancy restaurants galore, tacky souvenier shops as well as luxury goods and jewellery.

Madame Tussaud’s was on the 1st floor of the complex and the viewing platform was located on the rooftop. Madame Tussaud’s was interesting, with a lot of the wax effigies looking remarkably like the real thing. Some were a bit ‘off’, but you could still guess who they were meant to be when you squinted from certain angles.

The exhibits included some cute touches; Andy Lau’s statue possessing a heartbeat, a floaty white dress and blonde wig visitors can slip on and pose in next to Marilyn Monroe, a stage with podium that visitors can make mock speeches from, flanked by Bush and Clinton. My brothers who were most reluctant to visit ended up having the most fun with all the props and statues.

It was a long escalator trek to the viewing platform on the rooftop but it was worth it. Defying the light drizzle, tourists posed and snapped away against the dizzying backdrop of Hong Kong’s famous skyline. I wished I had a tripod as the nightscene necessitated long exposures, which was difficult to hold the camera still for. The slightest wobbling / trembling would result in a blurred picture. In the end, I put my brothers to good use by getting them to stand still and steadying the camera against their heads.

At the end of the night we were deposited at our hotel and promptly fell into bed, knowing that Disneyland awaited us on the morrow.

To one and all: A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I’m ba-ack…

Zipping back and forth between Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Guangdong, Macau, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and good ‘ol JB.

Living out of a suitcase for 3 weeks. *shock horror* (oi, I am a girl after all)

Hotel food. *yuck*

Airline food. *double yuck*

Falling sick while on holiday and far, far away from home. *triple yuck and a long, drawn-out groan* (even if it was entirely my own fault)

Big sigh. Where do I start?

At the beginnning. D-uh.

I arrived in HK international airport hale and hearty, eager to be off and experience all that the bright city has to offer. We were greeted by a less-than-enthusiastic local tour-guide, herded into a mini-bus and unloaded at our hotel for the night (Stanford Hotel). Our tour leader (the one that had accompanied us from Malaysia) was busy checking us in and the rest of the group was just milling around, being touristy.

That was when I felt it.

An itch around my eyes. I blinked a few times and hurriedly checked my reflection in the mirrors of the hotel lobby.

Drat. The area around my eyes was swollen. Just slightly, but noticable to me.

My first thought was to list the things I most recently ate or drank (only an allergic reaction can cause my eyes to swell). I’m allergic to certain antibiotics, pearl powder and some of the harsher cleaning agents but was pretty sure I had not come into contact with those. What could it be?

I arrived at the answer via the process of elimination. It wasn’t food, drink, shampoo, detergent, dust or anything like that. Yet, it was the one thing I couldn’t avoid and the one thing I could do nothing about.

It was the dratted air pollution. Drat, drat drat drat DRAT!

There was nothing to I could do but suffer in silence. I woke up the next day to the sight of my eyes grotesquely swollen, with dead skin flaking off the swollen areas and purplish-grey shadows under my eyes. Of course, I looked into the mirror and freaked myself out. Then I proceeded to freak my roommate (the tour-leader) out.

I ran around looking like that for the whole trip save the last 2 days when my eyes finally adapted to the level of air pollution. That should probably explain the lack of photos with me in the frame. My tour group didn’t help either by gawking at me every morning and coming up to me separately to ask what the matter was. I think they did that just so they could get a closer look at what looked like spectacular purple-red-grey slugs living under my eyeballs. Hmph.

But then again, my swollen eyes were just a trifling inconvenience. I did get properly sick after all.

A trip to HK Disneyland was planned for the first morning in HK. While waiting for the minibus to be brought round, someone in the group suggested we go buy some biscuits and snacks at 7-11 to bring along to Disneyland as food (and everything else) there was notoriously expensive. I bought two buns, stuck them in my sling-bag and promptly forgot about them.

Five (5!) days later, we were in the bus, late for dinner and I was feeling hungry. Suddenly I remembered that I had food in my bag. Feeling quite happy with myself, I took out a rather flattened bun and ate it. It had cheese on it and tasted quite good, actually.

That night, I awoke at 3 am, 4.30am and 5am with feelings of vague discomfort in my stomach. It felt heavy, like I had eaten a bit too much but otherwise I didn’t feel unwell so I managed to fall back asleep all those times. At 6am when my alarm went off, I woke up, dashed to the bathroom and puked my guts out. It was only as I was contemplating the green veggies swimming in the toilet bowl that I realised that it wasn’t all that smart of me to happily eat a 5 day old cheese bun, however nice it tasted.

All up, I puked twice that day and came down with a high fever. What amazed me was that the whole day I only had 4 glasses of tea and half a bowl of fishball noodles and didn’t feel hungry.

Hmm, maybe I should eat more 5 day old cheesy buns.

Home in JB!!

Just came back from singapore yesterday

Going to Hong Kong on Wed

Bought a new toy (more on that later on)

Being tortured by Mum

Exercising my credit cards

Getting peeved off at Telekom and Streamyx as they play the finger-pointing game (wonky phone line AND internet connection)

Missing Melbourne

Spoiling my dog

‘Till later, all!

The gang went to Sexpo 2006 on Saturday. No, I didn’t bring my camera. I’ll show you the programme though..

That’s the cover of the official Sexpo 2006 booklet they handed out. Just for the ladies’ information, the three main girls on the cover are supposed to be Jessie Jane, Sophia Santi and Shay Jordan. I’m sure the guys don’t need me to tell them who those pornstars are..

That is the event timetable for Saturday. We got there after lunch and caught the shows starting from 1.45pm.

This is my second visit to Sexpo; I first went in 2004. I didn’t get to see much the first time as the crowd I went with didn’t really gel. The girls were shy because we went with some boys and the boys were embarrassed in turn because the girls’ shyness was infectious. We paid AUD$22 for the ticket and I think we only spent about 40 mins in there before we left.

However, last weekend….. Man, where do I start?

Lets start with the shows. We caught the strip/poledance by Miss Nude Australia first. She was good! She climbed all the way up to the very top of the deng pole and then slooooowwwly slid down it, UPSIDE DOWN AND doing a SPLIT. She did it naked (but for a g-string), in pornstar high heels and managed to look sexy doing it. *envious*

Next show was Penis Puppetry, and if you EVER manage to see what it’s about, you’ll get down on your knees and thank me for not posting pictures about it. Basically, the Master Penis Puppeteer folds, twists, bends, pulls and stretches his ‘bits’ into other shapes (snail, big Mac, wristwatch, swollen thumb, etc). Also known as the art of genital origami. Heck, it looked like it hurt!

After that we managed to catch a strip/poledance by a finalist in a stripping competition and we thought that it would be similar to what we saw before. Boy, were we wrong. The girl on stage stripped, danced, climbed up and down the pole and we were thinking "Yeah, yeah, what else is new" when she turned her ass to the audience, bent over to touch her toes and sloowwly slid her g-string off. The shouting and hooting coming from the boys in the audience was deafening, I tell you. She then proceeded to dance, wriggle and shake and show off as much of her *ahem* other lips as possible. Quite frankly, I didn’t know where to look. Aiyoh, shy lah..

Then there was the male strip show. The guy was ripped! Muscles everywhere, all gleaming with lotion. He got 3 volunteers onto the stage to help him with his performance and I think those ladies got quite an eyeful (and handfuls). I wonder where they buy those pants that snap on and can be just torn off in one motion. We were expecting the guy to TAKE IT ALL OFF (!!) but sadly, he stopped at his g-string. Ah well, he had a FINE ass.

There were stalls galore selling everything and anything. Handcuffs, lubricants, toys of all shapes and sizes, whips, costumes, lingerie, seriously CFM (Come F**k Me) shoes, body paint, edible undies, condoms of all kinds, pole dancing lessons, stripclub memberships and the list goes on.

The hero of the day is still Justin. We had walked around the area and were standing in front of this party bus that had disco lights and thumping music coming out of it. The curtains were mostly drawn but you could see people moving around inside through the rather large gaps. A sign said "Lapdance $20". Justin looked as if he were debating with himself whether or not to go for it so I said " $20 bucks for a lapdance?! I’ll contribute $2, you better get one!" Then the rest overheard and we all ’sponsored’ Justin’s lapdance. He paid up, got on the bus and much to our collective delight, sat down facing us right in front of a large gap in the curtains! We got to see some of it and from what we could make out (it was dark inside the bus), Justin got waaay more than his money’s worth… After that, he paid up to have his picture taken with 2 (not 1 but TWO!!) topless models and got their autographs. He didn’t act shy, pretend to be righteous nor did he get all sleazy about it. He just saw it as ‘education’. Justin, you are my hero!!

Too bad there were no hot guys giving lapdances.

After we left the Sexpo, we went to a ‘too much is just enough’ restaurant and had an all-you-can-eat dinner. There was way too much meat for us to finish. I think we all went home having quite enough of flesh and meat for a long long time…

I need a new handphone.

My Nokia 6101 was smashed in an unfortunate accident in September and I’ve been using a borrowed handphone ever since (thanks Tanya!). It was a hot day and we were out by the Werribee river. I took my jacket off and left it in the car. The next person who got out of the car sort of dragged a corner of my jacket off the seat and it hung over the side. Then they slammed the car door shut. ONLY, the door wouldn’t close. So I tried to shut the door also. THEN, I noticed that my jacket was in the way. THEN, I remembered that my phone was in the jacket pocket. You can imagine how my heart plummetted at that moment.

This is the mini-display on the outside.

That’s the inside (obviously).

*sigh* Heart pain.. I had photos in there of my very first nephew, contacts, smses that made me laugh and most of all, that phone was a present from CM! *grinds teeth at own carelessness*

So I’ve been trawling the internet researching handphones and I’ve decided that I want something small-ish, sleek with a loud-ass ring volume and power-power camera.  Small because I don’t want to lug a brick around. Sleek because hot pink/fancy prints get outdated fast. Loud-ass because I often can’t hear my phone ringing (all my friends can vouch for that). Power-power camera because, well, I’m a closet pervert (hah!). Oh, I forget, it must have an expandable memory (can slot extra memory card) for all those pervy pictures I plan to take.

I like the Nokia N73 and K800i but they are very, how to say, ‘MAN’  phones. To use Amanda’s expression, "Soo not sexeh…" Besides, the N73 has a reputation of being very buggy and hangs a lot. But I’ve mucked around with a friend’s K800i and I’m not used to the user interface (lifetime Nokia user so far).

*pouts in confusion*

I demand a phone that is SEXEH, POWERFUL and MAKES A BIG NOISE!!  Oooh.. Sounds suggestive, not? Please feel free to nominate a candidate for the position of my new toy…

The usual gang had a pot-luck last night. Lots of good food, wine, laughter and general madness (as usual). Heaps of giggles over pulled groin muscles, penis puppetry, Paris Hilton, left-hand-love, whether guys can hit on girls their friends have hit on unsuccessfully and all manner of things risque. The boys were vigourously denouncing Victoria Beckham’s butt in the new Beckham husband-and-wife perfume advertisment.

G : (waves magazine around and points at the offending backside) Hey! Look at this, tell me this isn’t Victoria Beckham’s butt! It’s too big!

Me : *peers over his shoulder* Yup, it looks more like JLo’s bum.

A : *takes the magazine and squints at her bum* Cannot be her backside-lah, she usually so anorexic-skinny, how come her ass suddenly so big?

C : Must be photoshopped, Victoria has no ass at all!

And the conversation moves on to R’s clubbing experience just this last Friday. He was out with his friends and didn’t manage to pick up any chicks because his friends had hit on the ones he was interested in and even though the girls weren’t interested, they were now out of bounds to him. Maybe this is some male-etiquette /bros before ho’s/ honour among bradders thing that girls (like me) just don’t get. If a guy (A) has hit on a girl and got knocked back, why can’t his friend (B) hit on the same girl? What if the girl is totally not interested in A but really likes B but he can’t make a move because of the rule? And say the girl gets frustrated enough to approach B, what happens? What if B goes to the dentist tomorrow and bumps into the same girl, can he hit on her then? Hmmm.. Very confusing…

Just as R was lamenting on the lack of pretty girls (in clubs and everywhere else), G pipes up and said:

"Nowadays when people say a girl is pretty, you have to ask them what they mean. Do they mean that the girl is naturally pretty, or do they mean the girl is pretty when she is made-up. It’s a lot of difference, you know."

I agree. Some girls are pretty naturally (eg: Amanda, Yezi, Cara, Joyce, Kaleen etc). They don’t need make-up even though they may use it lightly to enhance what they have. They are sweet-faced, their skin is clear, their eyes are bright and they have colour in their cheeks. They look good whether they have just woken up, just came out of the shower or have just applied make-up. Whether they are in a ball gown, shorts and slippers or pajamas, they still look good.

OTHER girls however, look good only when they are made-up and dressed-up. They will never show their I-just-woke-up face in public, not for all the money in the world. You’ll never catch them looking anything less than glamourous, even if it means they disappear into the toilets for ages every hour to re-apply their "face" and that they will go grocery shopping in sky-high heels and eye-popping cleavage. In college, I personally knew some girls who would wake up EARLY in the morning to spend 2 hours (!) making-up, doing their hair and getting dressed. All that just to go to college. What a waste of make-up! It’s worse in university, especially in summer, especially the first-years.

Me? It depends on my mood and how much time I have. Most days I spend in my Lucky jeans, a polo tee and my birkenstocks. If I have the time and I’m in the mood, I might rock up in black leather boots, miniskirt, lipgloss and mascara. Or a cute sundress. Or I can just stay at home wearing nothing but lavender-scented bath bubbles. Actually, I’ll go and do that right now….