fannytham

Fanny has stopped blogging – because she realized she has much more things to accomplish. Thank you for being with me throughout these 4 years.

Here’s to living with lots of Love, Music and Style.

Signing off,

Fanny Tham

When You Look Me In The Eyes

If the heart is always searching,

Can you ever find a home?

I've been looking for that someone,

I'll never make it on my own.

Dreams can't take the place of loving you,

There's gotta be a million reasons why it's true

When you look me in the eyes,

And tell me that you love me.

Everything's alright,

When you're right here by my side.

When you look me in the eyes,

I catch a glimpse of heaven.

I find my paradise,

When you look me in the eyes.

How long will I be waiting,

To be with you again

Gonna tell you that I love you,

In the best way that I can.

I can't take a day without you here,

You're the light that makes my darkness disappear.

When you look me in the eyes,

And tell me that you love me.

Everything's alright,

When you're right here by my side.

When you look me in the eyes,

I catch a glimpse of heaven.

I find my paradise,

When you look me in the eyes.

More and more, I start to realize,

I can reach my tomorrow,

I can hold my head high,

And it's all because you're by my side.

When you look me in the eyes,

And tell me that you love me.

Everything's alright,

When you're right here by my side.

When I hold you in my arms

I know that it's forever

I just gotta let you know

I never wanna let you go

Cause when you look me in the eyes.

And tell me that you love me.

Everything's alright,

When you're right here by my side.

When you look me in the eyes,

I catch a glimpse of heaven.

I find my paradise,

When you look me in the eyes.

I am Yoga-ing again after a 6-month hijacked by my Weekly Clubbing. Now that I have decided to club less, Yoga-ing is back.

But frankly, I am lame. The main motivating factor is Ciara. Take a look at her in this music video. H.O.T. Did I say that she is hot? She is fanny-tastically HOT. Have I mentioned that she is hot? G.O.D. Her yoga-inspired moves make me want to move like her.

And to further prove that I am indeed a rock star, remember beginning of the year I said this will be a year with lots of Love, Style and Music? 4 months later, wham, Justin and Ciara released a duet Love, Sex and Magic. We are connected by the same 3 letters – L, S, M.

Look at me, the eternal rock star. Even Justin is following my lead.


And I don't need sexy yoga moves to do that.

User-generated content is the next wave in media. Construed entertainment is out. Realism is in.

I am a huge fan of user-generated content. It all started with my obsession with Post Secret and the subsequent rip-offs. They have real people writing their confessionary tales that are even more drama than a soap opera. This is the real life. And real life may not, does not and will not have happy endings.

Ivan told me of a website – Fuck My Life – http://www.fmylife.com . It’s a clever spin from the Post Secret franchise. Tongue-in-cheek entries – short, direct and painfully hilarious. When the going gets tough, go visit the website, and you will discover your life is not as fucked up as you think it is. As ironic as it is, Fuck My Life made me laugh.

Until today. I saw this particular entry and my heart stopped for a beat. This one sentence drips of grief, disappointment and a remorseful resignation to Fate. This is the power, and beauty, of language.

Today, I found out that just because your boyfriend

asks you to marry him doesn't mean that

 he will show up at the wedding.

Fuck My Life.

Go visit the website. Welcome to the real world.

For the first time this year, I felt lonely.

It’s not PMS. (check your calendar! It’s not that time yet)

It’s not me being emo.

It’s just a purified state of loneliness.

Which, at this period, is an irony.

Well, I guess when you are surrounded by people who don’t understand you, people who don’t notice you, people who don’t want you as badly as you want them, the loneliness crept in.

At that moment, you tell yourself, I can lose the whole world if I can mean the world to just one.

But it won’t happen to me. At least not yet.

And so I walked.

I walked my way home after work.

I past by the junction, but I continued walking. My earphones were jammed in my ears. Streams of slow rock songs playing in my mind. The cool breeze was blowing in my hair. Sky is turning dark. Street lights were turning on like the stars appearing in the velvet sky. And I started crying.

It completely took me by surprise.

I don’t know why. I can’t explain why.

Maybe it’s the stress of a paid employee.

Maybe it’s the stress of being a woman.

Maybe it’s the stress of always having to try too hard.

I was in my purple short and tight tube dress, red jacket and black heels.

And I was crying.

People were naturally looking.

Perhaps thinking she must have had a bad day at work. Or it must be relationship problems. Or family issues. Or the financial crisis. Or maybe even H1N1.

Crap. No. I was crying because I need to see things clearer. Or rather, I hope.

As simple as that.

It was a good, lonesome walk. A much needed one on a dreary Tuesday, without a single drop of alcohol.

Well done Fanny.

My cousin posted an entry in his blog which reminds me of my school days.

Background info: My cousin (who is Superstar Rain-look-alike) works in retail at a fashionable and leading international brand in Orchard Road.

His entry:

 And one more thing.

I realised a LOT of people don't understand, 'Next Door' .....

Is it really so hard to understand?

'Pacific City is just next door....'

'It's at the same floor.... just next door...'

'Okay, I'll show u... *point* There, they are next door...'

OMG......

Seriously.

fannytham wrote:

It's not really relevant but your post reminds me of my school days when I was working at Citibank as a part-time investment promoter with my friend, Joy.

We have to station outside the Citibank branch and try to introduce the different investment plans to the people walking past.

Singaporeans who walked past you, even though knowing you were from Citibank, would ask stupid questions like, "Where is the toilet?", "How do I go to the Bus Interchange?", "What is the time now?" as if I was a f-ing Information Counter.

The funniest thing that ever happened was this: The bank closes at 3.30pm everyday but we only stopped work at 4pm. I remember there was a customer who came around 3.45pm, found the glass doors to the bank locked, turned and asked us, "Why is the door locked?" I replied, "Oh sir, the bank has closed."

I will never forget what the idiot replied.

He was in shocked and said, "Oh dear! The bank closed down?! OH MY GOD...."

God Bless Us All. Joy and I couldn’t stop laughing for months.

I almost died because of a piece of apple strudel yesterday.

But people around me nursed me back to health.

Thank you J

ANYWAY, was having fun with Vika last Friday at Timbre trying to mimic the famous Asian poses. Well, Asian girls DO know how to pose. We are born-posers. I’m not proud of it, but I sure had real damn fun. That was a great way to kickstart a busy weekend that was spent around drifters at the Formula Drift event.

I almost died on Saturday – but at least I can say, I lived on Friday.

    
The Punch-Face Pose


  
The Heart-Shaped Pose


  
The Teasing Pose


  
The Surprised Pose


  
The Pointing Pose


  
The Cat-Pose


  
The Blow-Kiss Pose


  
The Framing Pose


 

I know it's irrelevant - but let's treat this as a tribute to MJ -

Rest In Peace.

Long-live Oasis.

Don’t Go Away – Oasis

A Cold and frosty morning there's not a lot to say

About the things caught in my mind

As the day was dawning my plane flew away

With all the things caught in my mind

And I wanna be there when you're...

Coming down

And I wanna be there when you hit the ground

So don't go away say what you say

But say that you'll stay

Forever and a day...in the time of my life

Cos I need more time yes I need more time

Just to make things right

Damn my situation and the games I have to play

With all the things caught in my mind

Damn my education I can't find the words to say

About all the things caught in my mind

Me and you what's going on?

All we seem to know is how to show

The feelings that are wrong

I’ve received so many comments after my last blog entry that did not pass my screen test. Basically, they surround the same thought – about girls kissing girls. Never mind if that particular entry was on the joys and curse of Spontaneity - put in the imagery of a girl on girl action and that will be the ONLY thing that guys will pick up. Yes, men, guys, or boys are that predictable sometimes. I was having lunch with a guy friend the other day and we were talking about that. I asked him if it’s true that all guys think it’s hot when girls make out with girls. He looked at me and said, “Hell-yes.” And then there was silence. He went back eating his bowl of laksa. I bet on all my heels that his head must be swarming with images of girl-on-girl acts. To bring him back to Earth, I did what I had to do. I said, “But isn’t it the same when you watch two hot guys making out with each other?” His head jolted up, eyes starred at me with intensity and mouth twisted in disgust – “Fanny, it’s not funny.”

But it is funny to me. My toes are laughing.

Anyway, I swear to God I really wanted to work on Sunday.

I wanted to go to office, clear the emails, the pile of work, my messy table and maybe even squeeze in an hour of SIMS 3 in the gaming station. But my mum gave me an ultimatum after 2 new Zara shopping bags surfaced in my room over the weekend.

Blame it on the Zara sale.

Anyway, I have to clear my entire closet or else she will start messing it up and ruin my pretty clothes. So, I took out everything, re-categorized them, dump away those I haven’t wore in a year and put them back nicely into their palace again.

And I was in awe.

I have found the secret to where half of what I earned in the past 6 years was.

Of course, the other half is in my shoe cabinet.

The funnier thing is, I’m not a T-shirt gal. But yet 30% of my clothing is T-shirts, 5% jeans and pants, 10% skirts, 10% fancy tops and the remaining 45% dresses. It’s amazing. I totally believe the 80-20 rule now.  I, for one, only wear 20% of my clothing 80% of the time.

Anyway, it felt damn good to clear away the clutter. Clothes that were no longer my style or ill-fitting found their way in one of the 4 big paper bags that will soon be given to my younger cousins. My closet looks so much neater and lighter after the fashion-liposuction. It is beautiful again. To top it off, I found 2 pretty River Island dresses which I bought some time ago but have not worn yet! What an achievement – I was walking on air for the rest of the evening.

But I spoke too soon. By the end of the night, I realize the irony – and the symbolism of my closet-cleaning activity. While I was clearing up my clutter, I am somebody else’s. I am the skeleton in the closet. I am a freaking off-season Diane von Furstenberg dress – over-size, shoulder-padded, multi-printed – kept in the depth of the closet - something which if you wear it in the public, will only bring you unnecessary attention and trouble.

And just like that, the air that I was walking on gave way to a cold, hard cement floor. Once again, I fell down on my knees and bruised my ego. I went to bed with a sore heart.

But the week will get better. At least I have 2 new dresses to wear this week.

And they are pretty damn hot.

p/s: One last remark. To save your dignity, do not watch Transformers with your boyfriend. The hot Megan Fox will be too distracting for him and you will be too distracted by his distraction to focus on the movie. I seriously can’t remember what it is about.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing. But I have been told umpteen times by people who truly know me that I don’t look like me.

You know how first impression works – you look at a person, hear his/her first sentence and immediately form an impression, coupled with a list of possible personality traits of him/her. Sometimes first impressions can be very accurate, other times, they waver off tangent. But in my case, most will agree there are parts of me which are way off the mark.

See, I am a Libran. I look balanced. But I have the both extremes in me. That’s why I need to lift the heavy balance to remind myself to keep my sanity in check. I remember one particular incident when I was out on a date with a CFO of a major global financial services provider from UK. At the end of the date, he looked at me, perplexed and amused, and said that I am not who I seemed to be and to quote him, he said, “UNUSUAL”.

Not special, not unique, not one-of-a-kind. But UNUSUAL.

Personally I will group UNUSUAL with abnormal, atypical, odd, queer and weird.

Not sure if it’s a good thing for him but it’s certainly not the best choice of words if he wants to date a girl.

ANYWAY, amongst a million other things that I truly am but do not look someone like that, the one thing that stands up must be my spontaneity – which I have to say, has been my gift, as well as my curse.

At any one time, I have a million ideas in my head. Give me a spark to generate the idea and I may turn that into action. Literally. Idea INTO Action. Bypassing the process which is called THOUGHT, CONSIDERATION and DELIBERATION. When such a moment arises, I sprang into action and, most often, do not think of the repercussions, much less the effect of my actions. Ok, chill – it’s not that I’ll do some wild, crazy stuff which will land me in jail or on the front page of Singapore’s highly subdued, conservative and controlled papers. Most of the times it’s small things. But because it’s small things, they did not get registered in my thought. I just do it. AND it’s precisely because of that, I failed to see the possible impact of the small things that I did until it is over and done with.

It can be as small as downing 4 pints of beer over lunch on a workday to kissing a girl in front of my friends (and gasp, my boyfriend). But in essence, it is who I am. Like what I’ve told him, I have a brain. I just don’t need to use it.

Until recently. In my quest to kickstart Fanny’s Transformation before my 21st birthday (ah-hem. Yes, I am still in denial. Don’t say my real age else I’ll kill myself and haunt you for the rest of my existence), I recounted what I have done in my last 2 years as a single woman. Frankly, I cannot remember much. A lot of things were done in spontaneity and such acts meant nothing. They contributed nothing to my existence except handing me a label of a Crazy Girl, Party Girl or worse, a Bimbo. My mum saw a cigarette butt outside my home a few months back and immediately assumed it’s me. She went on for about 30 minutes saying it’s bad enough that I drink, why do I have to smoke, even though I had done the most dramatic declaration of God-It’s-Not-Me-Mother-Please-Leave-Me-Alone (having said that, I do really love my mum. I am a middle-child, I have my complexities at times so shoot me).

My spontaneity proves to be costly. It’s almost as if I am a huge bloody-walking billboard for all the vices. Even though half of the time, I am a sweet, kind, gentle girl.

I have gotten into some pretty bad mess previously. The past 2 years have been quite a tumultuous ride. But I’ve since cleared it up, bit by bit. Give me some credit. Even my SIMS 3 family is now a regular happy family and not some scandalous household with family members going around the neighbourhood humping one another. I am a righteous God now.

You see, for once, I am trying not to be spontaneous anymore. I am walking through the past few years and thinking ahead where I will want to be in the next few. I have to say the new relationship sparked the change, but it is not the only reason. I believe its age. After all, being a 21-year old (again) means I have to take on full responsibility of my life. I’m not saying I will eliminate entirely who Fanny is. If being spontaneous is my thing (as well as being loud, saying the wrong things at the wrong time, a bimbo, etc), I will not deny its occasional appearance. I just have to make sure it falls within the whole grand plan of Fanny-Being-A-Responsible-Adult. So no more kissing girls. No more jumping in the pool fully clothed. No more drinking competitions. No more dancing on platforms and bartops. Crap. I shan’t go on. Because there should be No-More-Saying-More-Than-I-Should.

If my whole life is really just a 3-min music video, I better make damn sure only the best moments are captured.

FANNY 大改革

改革: to reform

Reform: Beneficial change, or sometimes, more specifically, reversion to a pure original state ; Reform may be no more than fine tuning, or at most redressing serious wrongs without altering the fundamentals of the system ; Reform seeks to improve the system as it stands, never to overthrow it wholesale

Joy wrote an entry in her blog which inspired a comment from me.

Her entry:

How much is marriage worth?

This isn't my story. This is a real story of a Singaporean man, probably in his forties.

The TV documentary recounted the story of a man and woman who were together for fifteen years but unmarried. They both felt that it was good enough for them stay together and be happy; marriage was afterall just about owning a certificate and in their opinion, meaningless.

Three years ago, the lady was diagnosed with breast cancer; she did not get better. The man then quit his job as a taxi driver to care for her full-time. By then, the woman had grown gaunt, frail and ugly.

He stood by her nonetheless, and -a surprise- proposed.

After 15 years of fighting against the idea, he strangely became resolutely sure that this was what he wanted.

Why has it suddenly become so easy to make a difficult decision?

Their wedding was held at the hospice. I watched as their quiet wedding unfolded. Her make-up was done on the hospital bed as she was too weak to walk. A wig was worn as she had lost her hair to cancer. At the procession, she went down the aisle on a wheelchair with tubes in her nose. Loving friends and family members applauded lovingly to congratulate and encourage her. But she was too frail to talk and could only wave back with whatever remaining strength she had to thank them for their blessings. After the vows were exchanged, the husband and wife wept. The guests wept. And I cried too. The newfound marriage bliss ended 2 weeks later when she died.

Why does it take difficult times to make an easy decision?

My comment:

fannytham said...

When I am in my "rock-star" mode, I think the concept of marriage is crap. The idea of formalizing a union sanctioned by a secular authority is just a mockery to the ideal of Love.

However, if we are not to take this story into account, Romantic Love in general is complicated, mutable and sadly, ephemeral. That is why we need to solidify a promise, especially when the stake involved is somebody else's heart.

Men are complex creatures. Most of the time we just cruise along, never evaluating, cherishing and thinking about how important the person standing next to you is until you have lost them. When I look at my boyfriend, sometimes I think he is the best thing that has happened to me. But sometimes the insecurity creeps in. You turn and look at him again and wonder if he is really who you think he is. And then comes fear and withdrawal.

So it does takes courage, or in this case a real wake-up call, no matter how much you love a person, to commit yourself fully and not to be afraid getting hurt.

To most, Marriage is a promise to the other party that you will love them and are prepared to spend the rest of your life with him/her.

But to me, Marriage, is a promise to myself that I will love this man and I will protect his heart that he has so carefully given to me.

So when the Love changes, or when times are bad, the Marriage will serve, to me, as a reminder of the day when I married him - because that is going to be the day I know I will never be alone again for the rest of my life.

So as beautiful as the idea of Love is, those who are truly in it and have been hurt by it, know that it takes tantamount faith to take the great leap, surrender your heart and commit fully to the realm of Love.

I hate wedding photos. And I hate Facebook. OK – strictly speaking, I hate wedding photos on Facebook. I mean, I am not a very private person (God forbid me to pretend that I am while I am lashing my thoughts on a unrestricted-google-able platform), but I really don’t think I will be able to share my wedding photos on Facebook.

OK. I am just being sour. Allow me to be truthful. I don’t hate wedding photos. I don’t hate Facebook. I don’t hate wedding photos on Facebook.  So what do I hate? I hate wedding photos of my first boyfriend and my first crush which I stumbled upon on Facebook.

Again, the clarification – I don’t feel anything for them. None. Zilch.  The butterflies in my stomach, which they used to give me more than 10 years ago, had all died – gone, decomposed, disintegrated and re-incarnated back to earth, probably as cockroaches. But I just cannot believe how uncanny it is that in a span of 10min, I have literally witness 2 weddings, of 2 guys from my past. Is this a sign or what?

And you know how uncomfortable weddings made me. They still do – although a little lesser now.

Anyway, the whole thing started with Facebook. My company blocked Facebook and I think this is the smartest move ever (apart from adjusting our work hours to normal office hours). So I don’t log in to Facebook as much as I want to – probably just once or twice a week. I can log on with my lovely mobile phone but I can only access basic functions like checking my messages, leaving comments, etc. Mobile Facebook just covers the minimal basic functions.

So, I brought my laptop home tonight, working on a script that has contributed to my increasing stress level and my 32 new strands of white hair. Finished parts of it (not all, sadly), checked my gmail, received notification about a friend leaving me a message on Facebook. H.E.N.C.E, I L.O.G.G.E.D I.N T.O F.A.C.E.B.O.O.K.

My  Account > Home > List  of notifications from  friends > Left hand side > PRE-WEDDING PHOTOS of my First Crush > Main section > Wedding Day Photos of my First Boyfriend

Come on – tell me that’s not a sign.

I deliberated, desperately not wanting to give in to my curiosity which will not only kill the cat, but will murder the rock star within me too.

But of course, I am a woman. I will pry. We pry. We always do.

And I went through the photos. First my First Crush – secretly hoping that he is fat. But I know he’s not. I just bumped into him at Robertson Quay with Boyfriend. And then, I crossed my fingers and hoped she is fat – but of course she isn’t. She is just what I have imagined her to be now – still the same beautiful her with a gorgeous smile.

And then to my first boyfriend. I know half of the people in the photos and I was wondering to myself – why didn’t he even invite me? He could have asked. And then I saw his parents in the photos – it must have been a good 10 years since I last saw them. They looked very, very happy. And I am glad for them. Yes, this happy couple looks like a match made in heaven.

I exited from his photo page, feeling like my past and present have collided. It feels as though it was only yesterday that I was learning volleyball from HIM and walking home after school with HIM. Is this what we called baggage? Is this a sign to teach US that we all have our baggage and for US to move along, we have to share or eliminate them? But what if the baggage is too much for anyone to handle, or too precious for anyone to clear?

Especially in the case of mine – when my baggage is staring right into my face on Facebook. Cherish my baggage or let them go? I looked at the happy couple’s small photo icon again. And I’ve decided. My last baggage is already such a big one that I really don’t need all my history to catch up on me. So to my First Crush and First Boyfriend, this will be the Last time I’ll glance into your lives.

Champagne Supernova

How many special people change

How many lives are living strange

Where were you when we were getting high?

Slowly walking down the hall

Faster than a cannon ball

Where were you while we were getting high?

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova in the sky

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova

A champagne supernova in the sky

Wake up the dawn and ask her why

A dreamer dreams she never dies

Wipe that tear away now from your eye

Slowly walking down the hall

Faster than a cannon ball

Where were you when we were getting high?

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova in the sky

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova

A champagne supernova in the sky

Cos people believe that they're

Gonna get away for the summer

But you and I, we live and die

The world's still spinning round

We don't know why

Why, why, why, why

How many special people change

How many lives are living strange

Where were you when we were getting high?

Slowly walking down the hall

Faster than a cannon ball

Where were you while we were getting high?

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova in the sky

Some day you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a champagne supernova

A champagne supernova in the sky

Cos people believe that they're

Gonna get away for the summer

But you and I, we live and die

The world's still spinning round

We don't know why

Why, why, why, why

How many special people change

How many lives are living strange

Where were you when we were getting high?

We were getting high

We were getting high

We were getting high

We were getting high

Koji recently said that the guy who can make me stand still is someone who is out-of-this-world, dreamy, lives in a fairytale land and constantly thinks out of the box.

I don’t agree totally but hey, this man has always been right. (even though he and the rest of them have, also, in the same breathe, concurred that I am a bimbo and have way too many blonde-moment jokes)

Inspired to know more about myself and encouraged by Joy’s latest entry, here is my Myers Briggs personality analysis.

I am an ENFJ.

ENFJs direct their energy towards the outer world of actions and spoken words. They try to build harmony in important personal relationships. Their lives are organized on a personal basis, seeking to develop and promote personal growth in people they value.  (true…)

What makes an ENFJ tick?

The Dominant function is the judging one of Feeling. Characteristics associated with this function include:

¨     Makes decisions on the basis of personal values (true…)

¨     Is appreciative and accepting of people - enjoying company and seeking harmony (true…)

¨     Assesses the impact of decisions on others, being sympathetic or compassionate (very true…)

¨     Takes a personal approach

The judging Feeling function is extraverted. That is, Feeling is used primarily to govern the outer world of actions and spoken words. The ENFJ will therefore:

¨     seek stable, harmonious relationships (true…)

¨     tend to adapt to the environment, taking on board those values that are held as important by friends and family, or society as a whole (I’ve been told I am highly adaptive)

¨     express the appreciation that is felt towards others (I believe in words of affirmation)

¨     tend to consider others' feelings before his/her own (sometimes a tad too much)

¨     be sensitive to praise and criticism, and seek to conform to others' reasonable expectations (words of affirmation! And yes, sadly, I am a conformer too)

The Feeling function is primarily supported by introverted intuitive perception, That is, intuitive perception is used primarily to manage the inner world of thoughts and emotions. This will modify the way that the Feeling is directed, by:

¨     focusing the (outer world) Feeling on ideas and possibilities for people

¨     looking for meaningful relationships (I give my smile to all but I give my heart to one)

¨     aiming to understand people, gaining insight into their personality and motivation (Psychology-graduate! That’s why!)

The classic temperament of an ENFJ is Apollonian, or Choleric, for whom a basic driving force is the search for meaning or purpose.

Contributions to the team of an ENFJ

In a team environment, the ENFJ can contribute by:

¨     promoting insight and common understanding amongst the team

¨     facilitating discussions, encouraging contributions from all team members by asking questions in a structured way

¨     seeking to arrive at consensus decisions (true…)

¨     generating team spirit though the ENFJ's own energy and enthusiasm (true…)

¨     focusing on areas of agreement and building on others' proposals (true…)

¨     bringing discussions to positive conclusions

The potential ways in which an ENFJ can irritate others include:

¨     talking too much (crap….is this true?)

¨     assuming they know the needs of others - in trying to help them develop insight, the ENFJ can appear bossy (WHAT?!)

¨     avoiding conflict and not giving criticism when it is needed (true… I hate confrontations)

¨     taking criticism personally (true… Mummy dearest already told me this trait of mine when I was younger)

¨     focusing so much on interpersonal issues that cost and other impersonal considerations are not adequately addressed. (true!!! See how distracted I got!?)

Personal Growth

As with all types, the ENFJ can achieve personal growth by developing all functions that are not fully developed, through actions such as:

¨     learning to observe and accept the negative aspects of those people they admire

¨     finding an independent and objective means of verifying their insights about people

¨     pausing and thinking, encouraging others to articulate their own needs, and using active listening to verify understanding

¨     undertaking a critical appraisal of a situation or person, and expressing disagreement or criticism when it could be of value to the recipient

¨     focusing on impersonal details when making decisions (this will be hard)

¨     listing options and undertaking a formal process of evaluation against criteria, including a cost benefit analysis

¨     establishing a long term goal, working towards it, but being prepared to modify it in the light of experience and developing circumstances

¨     letting others develop at their own pace (Argh… I can be impatient sometimes – and have high expectations of others)

Recognising Stress

As stress increases, 'learned behaviour' tends to give way to the natural style, so the ENFJ will behave more according to type when under greater stress. For example, in a crisis, the ENFJ might:

¨     get everyone organized

¨     express appreciation for their efforts

¨     contribute creative ideas, but overlook current realities (Bimbo mah…)

¨     fail to consider the cost implications (That’s why I can never be my own boss)

Under extreme stress, fatigue or illness, the ENFJ's shadow may appear - a negative form of ISTP. Example characteristics are:

¨     being very critical and find fault with almost everything

¨     doing things to excess - e.g.: eating, drinking or exercising (Oops)

¨     asking for irrelevant information (Bimbo-trait)

¨     ignoring others' feelings

The shadow is part of the unconscious that is often visible to others, onto whom the shadow is projected. The ENFJ may therefore readily see these faults in others without recognising it in him/her self. (This is really very true of me. I can criticize others but not realizing I am behaving the same way as them. Now that I know I have this trait in me, I will take note of it and be a better woman)

I love women.

God – I have said this so many times. It’s really not the raunchy kind of relationship, but it’s more of a camaraderie-AWARE-female-power feeling. No matter what happens, as long as it involves a woman and a man, I will always support a woman.

So much so that in the 3rd year into my last relationship, when a girl called me on my mobile to tell me she has been sleeping with my boyfriend (now ex) for the past 1 year, I immediately took her side, sympathized with her and spent the next 3 hours (until 4am) verbal slashing my boyfriend (now ex) and consoling her (I must be freaking crazy).  

Of course, now looking back, she was the one woman who has hurt me the most. And I probably will never be able to forget her for the rest of my life. Talk about Keeping Your Friends Close But Your Enemies Closer. This girl knew her stuff.

I have never hurt a woman. Man, yes, maybe. Woman, NO, never. The one and only time which I got close was when I was 14 years old and I deliberately and maliciously made a fellow classmate cried.

We were supposed to form 2 teams for a netball game. There was an even number of girls in the class but this girl, let’s call her JL, decided she didn’t want to join us for the game. So she sat at the canteen and refused to play. Without her, it’s going to be an uneven team distribution. I went up to her and demanded her to play. She looked at me and said NO-You-Can’t-Force-Me-To-Play. I shouted at her, “I don’t like to come to school either but am being forced daily! I don’t care if you want to play or not, this is a PE class so you HAVE TO play!” Next thing I knew, she was crying and complained to the teacher about me.

I was scolded for attempting to be a bully.

No good can come out from being at the wrong side of a woman. LEARN THAT.

But here I am today. Waiting, with baited breathe and strings of words in my mind, to critic women whom I don’t know. Well, let’s just take this as karma. Not MY Karma – but more kind of like a pay-it-forward. A woman recently critic me based on what I wrote on my blog. So here I am, paying it forward, attempting to critic other women. Hopefully with this entry, there will be closure and all shall be rosy and fine again.

It all started with a karaoke session with Joy and my JC classmates a few weeks ago. Ling was singing the theme song of Little Nonya – which, by the way, I think is the MOST overly exploited property in Singapore (not in a good way, mind you). The music video showed local artistes Jeanette Aw and Joanne Peh. I turned to Joy for the conversation that inspired this entry.

Fanny: Do you think Jeanette is pretty?

Joy: Mmm… I don’t think she’s PRETTY pretty. I think she’s alright.

Fanny: I think she has a beautiful face, but just not HOT hot.

Joy: Yah… But you know, she’s someone whom if she’s your boyfriend’s buddy’s girlfriend and you have to hang round with them, you really wouldn’t mind being friends with her.

Fanny: Yah yah.

Joy: Joanne too. You know la – the kind can be friends one.

Fanny: Yah yah. Felicia Chin too!

Joy: YES! She’s the kind you can go shopping with and can truly enjoy the time spent.

Fanny: Yah yah! Not like Fiona Xie.

Joy: YAH! She cannot. Cannot even be friends one.

*evil silence as the 2 of us secretly plot Fiona’s death*

Joy and I have always been talking about our separate experiences on double-dates with your boyfriend’s/hubby’s best friend. That, to me, is quite a nerve-wrecking experience. See, your boyfriend asks along his best bud who brings along his girlfriend. The 2 of them engage in their own Men’s Talk. You are left alone with his girlfriend. What do you do? No choice but to make small talk. But beyond the small talk, can you actually be friends with her? Or will it just be another circumstantial-momentary-relationship?

I don’t know what it is but if the girl that your boyfriend’s bud brought is someone who looks like Felicia, Jeanette or Joanne, I will gladly warm up to them, maybe even build a budding friendship. If she looks like a fuc*ing hot Fiona, it will be the looooooooooooooooongest dinner session ever, with my watch painfully ticking off every second of my life spent in the miserable company. So much so that I will either throw my boyfriend SGD1,000,000 for him to make new friends or promise him a lifetime of fantasies just not meet the couple again.

But just what is it with Fiona or girls who looked like Fiona who make woman like me hate them at the first glance?

It’s The-Woman’s-Vibe.

This unexplainable, tangible, nebulous, dangerous Women’s vibe who has gotten Men into a lot trouble (“where have you been?”, “why is she smsing you?” and “are you sure it’s really a boy’s night out?”). One look at Fiona and you know she is not a nice girl who will make the effort to talk to you. In fact, one look at her and you’ll know that if you are friends with her, she will dominate the relationship, create an unbalance nature of which she will constantly put you down and expects you to put her on a pedestal. And don’t even get me started on how she acts cute in front of men. With her around, you will find yourself constantly having to pinch your boyfriend, asking him menacingly, “So, have you stared at her enough or not?” or “Please la. Her eyes are not there.”

She, nor girls who are like her, can be friends with me.

And so like that, at the end of the karaoke session, I realize that I love women. Most. But not all.

I don’t love the Women who backstabbed me. Women who don’t protect another woman’s interest. Women who used me to get what they want. Women who turn their backs against other women because of Men.

And of course, most of all, I don’t love Women who look like the absolutely delicious Fiona Xie.

I met Cher last week and she said the most heart-warming words to me.

No, she wasn’t drunk. And neither was I.

She recently befriended a girl who has hit it off quite well with her and has been asking her out to party. But the new girl can’t replace me. In Cher's own word, "Wah liao, she tries to be my Fanny."

Pardon the pun. My name does draw quite a far amount of insinuating remarks. My friend Alex still refuses to call me by my name.

Yes, I am Cher’s Fanny. When I heard that, I wanted to hug her and tell her how much that meant to me: that to her, a part of me is hers and that I belong to someone! But of course, being the rock star that I am now, I acted nonchalant.

I am Cher’s Fanny. I am her party bitch. We are each other’s stress reliever. We are each other’s comedy acts. We are each other’s fantasy mirror. The first time I saw her at Batam, I was thinking to myself, “What a bitch”. She was indifferent towards me and treated me as if I was invisible. We were then forced to work on a same project at work. We were cordial to each other. After a few months, because we were both in long term, serious relationships and were of the same age, we talked a little more. But we never hung out after work (apart from the occasional mambo jumbo nights). My birthday last year changed things completely.

She just ended her relationship and i was considered a veteran in that area. She and Mel decided to buy me dinner and drinks. We had dinner at a Japanese restaurant which was forgettable and then we headed to Loof for drinks. After a few martinis, we started talking nonsense which I totally can’t remember now (but I do remember that the topics linger around sex). Anyway, (I bet I got your attention just by mentioning that word), as I was saying, anyway, Cher and I decided to do a real wine and dine session that following Friday - ala Sex and the City gals.

We dressed up. She was in a black dress and I was in a white tube dress. We went to Pump Room for dinner as their dessert was rumored to be the best in town. We were supposed to head to Attica after dinner. We were seated outside and had dinner, desserts, a bottle of champagne and a SGD260 bill. Bubblys made us high. We saw the long queue and were thinking what the hell’s going on in that place. Cher said the 4 magical words that will change my life forever, "Let’s check it out".

We went in. And got hooked.

That’s how Cher and I developed our friendship. A bottle of champagne. A 7-men band. A barrel of laughter. And endless sessions of verbal man-bashing.

Joy was just saying its Serendipity - that I went to pump room to look at Addy but instead I found him. But looking at it now, the serendipity lies elsewhere.

I was looking for a great time but I chanced upon a great friendship.

Thanks Cher. Thanks for making me cooler than I thought I am. Thanks for making me love myself more than I think I can. Thanks for accepting me for who I am. Thanks for the silly moments when we actually believed we rocked the world but in fact we are nothing but silly, giggly, crazy ah lians. Thanks for being around. And lastly, thanks for not saying I-told-you-so when things go wrong.

Thanks for making me Cher’s fanny.

And to your new friend who wants to be your Fanny, that ain’t going to happen. There is truly only one Fanny.

P/s: I’m not drunk.

 


Mel, Cher and me at Wala

     
Me and Cher at Barossa


Met Meredith at Butter Factory


Ended the night at Pump

 

Brought my cousin and Mum onboard the Singapore Flyer!

  
When we reached the top, my cousin closed her eyes and made a wish. So did I. I wish for........................

There is an abandoned swimming complex just beside my office building. The swimming complex has been abandoned for almost 10 years. When I walk to work every morning, I will have to pass by the quiet, old and shabby swimming complex where I had spent numerous enjoyable hours at.

On my way to way this morning, I saw a father with his young son walking out from the road of the swimming complex. The father had a confused look on his face and the son looked disappointed. The son had this big giant swimming float that looked like a swan around his waist. They must have planned to swim today.

Usually, on normal circumstances, I would have empathized with the little boy. I love swimming. My dad used to bring me to this particular swimming complex once every few weeks. If something happened, like if it rained or if he suddenly had to work, I would kick up a big fuss and don on my Drama-Queen hat and sulked and cried and screamed. That’s why, on normal circumstances, I would have sympathized the boy. I would have felt how disappointed he must be – wearing the stupid swimming float, anxiously getting into his father’s car, eagerly running to the gate of the swimming complex, only to find that the gates are locked and the pools are drained. On normal circumstances, I could have cried.

But not today. I actually laughed. It was a really funny sight. Two of them walking towards me, boy with swan float around his waist, mouth sulking, father holding on to the boy with a stupid swan float around his waist, face gloomy. When I walked past them, I had to literally gather all my strength not to kneel down and laugh. Toughest thing I ever have to do – suppress a laughter.

That’s when I know something is wrong. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have laughed.

I laughed because I am no longer in myself. I mean IN myself. I have sort of floated out of my body and started looking at things around me – unbelievable, surreal and drama. And so everything becomes…weird…and strange…and…funny.

Is this enlightenment?

As I walked up to my office, I started re-accessing my life – waves and waves of drama incidents – which I totally have no control over – have happened. Some are funny, others are exciting, and the rest are totally bizarre. Yes, some left me shaken, left me broken, left me with tears. But with each of these drama moments, I take away much more. I take away an opportunity to learn, a chance to discover myself and a valuable moment to love myself more.  

And right now, today, I love myself more – even though I have done the cruelest thing of laughing at a boy with a stupid swan float around his waist.

I am not narcissistic. I am not an arrogant bitch. I am not an ignorant vain-pot who is swayed easily by others. I am no longer a Super Hero after my many, many defeats. I am no longer a Wonder Woman. I believe what I want to, I have faith in what I love, I hold my head high. With air in my lungs and my heart in my chest, I have everything. From now on, I am a Rock Star.

My younger sister is 5 years my junior. As much as she excels in almost everything she does, I have never found her to be a wise person. If you think I am ditzy or have too many blonde moments to be a normal, smart, intelligent woman, then put me together with her and i am Einstein.

Well, she is academically smart and has excellent PR skills. But she has far too many blonde moments than me. Standing beside her makes me a brunette. I always joke that NTU graduates are not as smart as NUS (I’m from NUS and both my sisters and bro-in-law are from NTU) - in a desperate, middle-child attempt to elevate my intelligence status in the family. Yes, by now you can tell that I bully her alot (but come on, I only have one younger sister. If I don’t love her, who will? Haha..) It’s cruel, but it’s true. She is not street-smart, does not have enough life experiences, and not shrewd enough to know that the world is not black and white - most of the time, its, sadly, grey.

Maybe it’s the Gen Y thing - young people like her always think too highly of themselves. It’s cultural and i shouldn’t blame her for it. But for the first time in the past 22 years, I heard her utter her first wise words last night.

I was plucking my white hair in front of the mirror. (Seriously the situation is getting out of control. I am going for a haircut tomorrow for help) If you have done it before, you would have known it’s a super addictive activity. It came to a point where I found more and more of these white aliens nestled amongst my precious black crown. I gave a long sign and told my sister who was behind me, "I give up. There's just too many of them." She looked up, and then resumed her work. Wanting to impress her and act the wiser, elder sister, I added, "Well, it’s just like life isn't it. The more you dig, the more shit you will find."

She looked up one more time and said, "Then don’t dig la."

Such wise words. I have never imagined my sister to save my day. Cheers to the ditzy Tham-sisters. I’m not digging anymore.

I found myself with nothing to do.

Right on time – 5.25pm – time to shower.
 

Fanny is and is not…

Fanny is not…

Fanny is not…FROM CHINA

Fanny is not…A PARTY GIRL

Fanny is not…MATERIALISTIC

Fanny is not…A PLAYER

Fanny is not…CONFIDENT

Fanny is not…CONFRONTATIONAL

Fanny is not…LOOSE

Fanny is not…COMPLICATED

Fanny is not…A LITTLE GIRL

Fanny is not…A FEMINIST

Fanny is…

Fanny is…AN ALCOHOLIC

Fanny is…EMO

Fanny is…VAIN

Fanny is…FREE-SPIRITED

Fanny is…IMPULSIVE

Fanny is…A NERVOUS WRECK

Fanny is…FUN-LOVING

Fanny is…A BITCH

Fanny is…CONFUSED AT TIMES

Fanny is…TRYING TO STAND STILL AND LIVE LIFE