Heart skips, skips a beat. 

March already! Soon, I’ll be typing my posts from my rocking chair in a nursing home… In case anyone was wondering, I’ve been busy with work and stuff. So busy I just want to cocoon myself in come weekends. 

I miss X terribly. The last time I saw him in the flesh was maybe at least six months ago. I joke that we’re like the Cowherd and Weaving Girl who only get to meet on that bridge once a year (it’s a Chinese folklore, you can Google it if you’re interested). You know, there are so many things about him that irks me, but more that makes my heart so full I feel it’s bursting. I wanted to say skip a beat, but that would mean I have arrhythmia lol. 

*** WARNING! SAPPY, POTENTIALLY GAG-INDUCING POST AHEAD. ***

Of course I’d rather much tell him things face to face, but any form of communication is better than none I guess. I love how he always encourages me and cheers me up. He’s forever so supportive in my decisions. He’s fiercely defensive of me, hating people whom I dislike even more than me. And even though he’s sometimes having a bad day, he never forgets to ask how mine went. And when he’s having a bad day, he tends to throw mini tantrums and seek comfort which I find soooo endearing. It could just be because I’m so smitten but still. He always says things which makes me believe I’m the literary genius he makes me out to be (I’m no where near). And I really have to reiterate the following point over and over again till Kingdom comes. Best of all, he tolerates my bratty self when I give him attitude (whether or not he was the cause of my anger). 

Sometimes life is like deciding on a set meal. Perhaps Set A has an amazing appetiser but the main course is blah, and maybe Set B has your ideal starter and mains, but the dessert which you really wanted to eat is something you absolutely detest. So I think it’s all a matter of compromise and weighing on what you want more. 

I think it’s quite clear what I’ve chosen even though I whine about his shortcomings every now and then, and how everybody keeps urging me to move on because this is obviously going nowhere and probably never will. 

But it’s ok. I can’t really eat desserts anyway right? 

Useless fact #72: Do you know, that this Friday, will be five years since our paths first crossed? How has it been five years?!

xoxoxoxo. 

Winner winner, chicken dinner. 

Happy Singles’ Awareness Day once again! I’m so consistent I’m actually mildly proud of it. 

Speaking of singles, the boys and I say or do pretty dumb things at times, and Saturday seemed to have topped the charts for now. I don’t remember who brought it up, or why we were talking about it, but maternal instincts and biological clocks came into the picture. I vehemently denied wanting any children ever (you know how I cringe at that thought), and the boys insisted otherwise. I’m very surprised because even though we had some years lapsed between us, I’ve been anti-children since they knew me 17 years ago (fuck, does this make me sound old or what). 

But noooo, they were as sure as the sun will shine tomorrow morning that I’d be a mother to at least a couple of little monsters one day. And I threw the question back to them. And their answers left my jaw hanging. Apparently they ALL want to be fathers some day! Ok. Maybe I don’t know them as well as I think I do. Like, what’s going to happen to me when they all settle down and leave me by my lonesome self??? Homaigawd. 

So anyway, we were going back and forth about the future of my uterus and we came up with this stupid bet. They are very confident that I’ll be a mother by the end of 2019. But then they started cheating. They said even if I adopt a cat, or become someone’s godmother I would lose. Seriously, who makes up such ridiculous rules?! It ties back to my “maternal instincts”. And the stakes are 10 bottles of gin (later upped to Martell) that are to be shared amongst us, sponsored by the loser. 

Okayyyy. I don’t know about them but I’m pretty confident these bottles will belong on my shelf. Logically speaking, we’re halfway into quarter one of 2017. That means to fulfill the bet (putting the cat rule aside), I’d have to 1) find a man, 2) charm the pants off each other, 3) plan a wedding, 4) be married, 5) conceive, and 6) finally give birth. All within a span of two years give and take. 

Seriously. I’m laughing as I type at the incredulity of it all. I think they’ve forgotten the most important point here. I’m fucking consistent. If I can be single since…. (hold on I’m really counting) 2005 (wait WHAT?! Holy fuck!!), what makes them think I’ll accomplish six impossible tasks in such a short time?

Let’s all wait and see. Let the countdown begin. Am going to sit back and wait for my 10 bottles to fall into my lap. 

xoxoxoxo. 

My tattoo journey- Part three. 

Omg guys. There originally wasn’t a part three to this! But the road to completing this tattoo is so fraught with obstacles I’m starting to wonder if the stars are trying to tell me something. 

The original original plan was to start on it in January, but my tattoo artist had some issues with her back so we postponed it. Then the date was set for last weekend and I went all the way only to find out that she couldn’t start because she found more issues!

See the dip/indentation across my spinal area? Yah that’s the problem. Because if we place the pin-up girl right smack in the middle of the diamond, her face is going to end up right where the dip is. And you can imagine how weird she’d look. Like maybe she’d look like a melted wax figure. Eeewwww. 

While I’m extremely relieved that this was spotted before we started, it still is a tad frustrating. And guess what, because of that dip, we are now going to have to make the tattoo even bigger. So her suggestion was to add some stuff (like maybe flowers) on either side of the diamond, and then the girls will be perched on the edge of each side. Holy guacamole. I did tell her I have zero interest in flowers actually, but seeing as how “vintage” each element is, that seems to be the only way out. If the overall effect ties together nicely, I wouldn’t mind it at all. We’ll have to wait and see her final sketches. 

So now, my appointment has been pushed to close to end of March. And I’m just a little concerned about the size. So because of the extension, not only will the entire tattoo be big in terms of length, but width too. And you can see that I have a fairly wide surface area to begin with. Imagine my entire lower back filled. Yup, that’s the size we’re gunning for because any smaller, and the girls’ facial features and finger details would be all smooshed up. I did however tell her that I want to keep the tattoo below the bra line for certain reasons (i.e my mother flipping). I’m very very sure she’d flip anyway. But let’s try to minimise antagonising her haha. 

While I was fully prepared at how tall the tattoo would be when I first set my mind to doing it, the lapse in years made me get used to what I have now. I have a very strong feeling that I’d love it when it’s completed, but I think trying to imagine my back being coloured and filled up in backless items of clothings might need some getting used to. 

Don’t worry. I don’t do things only to regret them later (except for that one blip in my life which shall never be brought up again), and I definitely won’t do things that I’m unsure of. This was something that I really wanted since years ago and it was just unfortunate that it dragged on for longer than it should. And of course, from now till my appointment, should I have any form of hesitation, I’ll pull the plug on it (which shouldn’t happen unless the final sketches are not up my alley). After all, this is going to be a part of me for the rest of my life and I will remain committed to it. 

You know what’s most agonising? The waiting. I keep prepping myself for the pain and healing period and it keeps on not happening. I’m no spring chicken anymore. My heart cannot take such excitement time and again. The countdown begins. Again. 

xoxoxoxo. 

Are we there yet?

Time is just whizzing by it’s unbelievable. February already! The lunar new year debauchery has kinda ended for me and I couldn’t be more glad.

Year after year, it has become more of a duty and a chore instead of it being a time of revelry. The thing I enjoy most is the dressing up because I get to buy more clothes. I don’t even get that many red packets anymore and the snacking is overrated too. And because gambling is not my cup of tea, I’m basically left with watching my toe nails grow. Inspiring. 

So let’s talk about happier times. Like my clothes for example. This year, I narrowed my list down to two dresses. 

Both were awesome (but of course), but the cobalt blue one actually had zero votes! Both my sisters said that it was too formal and one of them even went as far as asking if I was going for prom. Pffftttt. 

So the red it was. Another reason why I myself was more for the red was because once my tattoo gets done, this dress will show bits of it and you all know what my empress dowager mother will say about that…… Was also sadly wearing old shoes and no new bag (was this close to buying one but told myself NO). Oh I must also show you my nails which were specially done for the occasion. 

Fortune Cat yo. Please bring me lots of money and luck. X didn’t like it though. Said it was too kiddish and so not me. What is he talking about? I’m like the ruler for all things cute. He still doesn’t understand me apparently. 🙄🙄


One for the family album. See the resemblance of my mother to my grandmother? 😂😂 Hmmm people always say I look like my mother so homaigawd I’m actually looking at my future. 😭😬😱

Day one of CNY was so uneventful I was home and all showered and became one with the sofa by 11pm. Yah you read that right. Actually I was glad it ended early. All those questions about why I’m still single reared it’s ugly head at me. 

“Why no boyfriend?”

“You always go out drinking, why no luck/chemistry?”

“Your younger cousins are all settling down!”

“Who’s that guy who’s in your photos? Not him?”

Oh god. 

At one point, one of my godmothers came over and whispered to me that she’d really like to see me get married and attending my wedding before she’s gone one day. Wow no pressure there. Such a guilt trip. I hate it. Why can’t everybody just leave me alone? 

This was day two’s outfit. I lurrvvveeee my cat top. Actually bought this one and a half years ago but needed a high waisted skirt to go with it because hello tummy flabs! Guess what. The empress dowager actually complimented my entire outfit! The number of times she has done that are so few and far between. X also said that my skirt was a winner. Wow. Twice in a day from usually critical people. Must be my lucky day. 

Ended my day with the boys. K invited us to his home to drink (what else) and I maybe won 20 bucks from gambling lol. Went home too late (6am) and as usual, regretted some life decisions. I never seem to learn. Spent the whole of yesterday dragging my feet around being sullen at the thought of having to go back to work again and then WHAM! February hits me in the face. 

Once again, I seem to have much to do with so little time. Busy I am. 

xoxoxoxo. 

My tattoo journey- Part two. 

***** Continued……*****

On hindsight, I should have realised that the guy wasn’t into doing my tattoo because whatever I gave him, he made no modifications or suggestions. So he went ahead to do the diamond first. Because of my condition, I made sure to wait a year because I didn’t want to take any chances. After that I went back to him to start on the girl. A couple of discussions later, he called me one day and dropped a bomb. He simply said the girl cannot be done because her legs (which were to be over the diamond) would be blue and could not be covered up. I asked for solutions or other suggestions, he just said, “sorry, none.”

Well fuck you. Fuck me. What was I to do now? The diamond on its own and its location just screams out TRAMP STAMP. I did ask around for some recommendations for tattoo artists but I was never really sure. Some artists had great portfolios, but I wasn’t sure if this genre was their cup of tea. The last thing I needed was to ruin it further. 

Therefore, many years lapsed and I almost just gave up. Till I found this artist on Instagram. Her work is awesome and she was skilful in many different genres. She does cute, dainty, fierce, etc., equally well. We’ve had quite a few discussions and she’s so helpful with ideas. She agreed that it was a mistake to do the diamond first. I asked if I should just cover up the whole thing and start from scratch but she said it was still doable and I should stick to it. 

However, to minimise the girl’s legs crossing over the diamond, she suggested doing two girls instead. She sold the idea of the alter ego thingy and I love it. The only “problem” now. It’s going to be a massive piece when it’s completed. Each girl has to be about palm-sized to be able to see her features clearly and proportionate to the diamond. Which also means it will creep onto the upper half of my back. Which is really not an issue for me but…

What that means is the limitation to my wardrobe in some ways. My mother hates all (my sister’s too) our tattoos because she says we are ruining the “perfect” bodies she gave us. She’s old-fashioned like that. She even told us this ludicrous story of how this friend of my parents was after this hot hostess for years, and when she finally accepted him, he turned flaccid the moment she stripped naked and he saw all her tattoos. Like what the fuck. If a man ever dares to judge me like that because of my tattoos then he can go fuck himself. I don’t want a penis that flops so easily either. So, in order not to antagonise her, I’ll either have to cover up or sidle crab-like if I have to pass her. And did I mention I live for open-backed tops and dresses??

Also, when I thought about getting tattoos, I never had the intention of wanting to show it off to the world (unlike some people) and flaunting it. It was always for my own admiration and appreciation. I don’t want to have to tell the story of my tattoo each time someone spots it. But I guess this is still manageable. 

My dream is to actually get a half or quarter sleeve some day. But I’m not sure if this day will ever come because I live in a fairly conservative society where people judge and stereotype you because of how you look. And if I stay in pharma, let’s just say this industry is quite “wholesome”, so I’m not sure if anyone is going to hire me if I look too intimidating. 

But it’s ok. Let’s take one step at a time. After I eventually finish this, I still have quite a few hidden parts of my body to progress. This is so exciting. I can’t believe I’m this close to completing my second one. And, X has also agreed to design something for me in future (even though he shares my mother’s stand on tattoos- to think he’s an artist himself 🙄🙄🙄). 

Watch this space. I’ll update as I move along and may even consider posting some pictures after it heals completely. Now what’s left for me to do is to convince myself that the pain is my friend. The pain is my friend. 

xoxoxoxo. 

My tattoo journey- Part one. 

So I promised to tell you the story of my tattoos in the last post, so tell I shall. I’ve always been captivated by tattoos since I was a teenager and watching shows like Miami Ink, LA Ink, Kat von D, and the likes of it made me want them even more. But I also didn’t want to jump into it (like flip the “catalogue” and go that’s it!) and regret later- after all, it’s going to be on me forever. 

So, as typical as it sounds, my first was my name on my right hip. My logic was that if I drowned in the sea one day and the fishes nibbled my face off, at least I would still be identifiable (didn’t think that maybe they would eat my body first haha). And, I’m narcissistic. I love my name. It’s a great name I think. If I remember right, I was 22 or 23. I have no regrets. However, it’s not very well done because the dude apparently went beyond the first layer so I actually have a couple of keloids where the thicker parts of the letters are. I didn’t have any reference because it was my first, but I remember the healing period to be excruciating and extra scabby (like how you skin your knees deep). The second artist took one look and said the guy went way in too deep (no dirty thoughts here please). 

Not that the second dude was any better to be honest. I went to him because he was featured many a times in our local paper and was kind of a like a celebrity. So high hopes I had. At that point in my life, I was dealt with blow after blow after blow. I wanted something to represent strength. Really liked the idea of a Phoenix (you know, that whole rising from the ashes thingy…), but I’m Asian. And getting a Phoenix would almost automatically put me into the category of an ah lian. I can’t quite explain this term, but it’s kind of a derogatory term, stereotyping a female as uncouth, and brash and gangster-ish. Something like that. Yeah, we Asians can’t get certain tattoos without being judged. Like if a Caucasian person got a lotus or a peony, it would be so rad, but an Asian- wham! Ah Lian or Ah Beng (the male version). 

Sorry. Back to my tattoo. So I had this brilliant idea of a diamond because diamonds are the hardest of all materials (or one of the hardest). And, a pin-up girl (to represent myself) would sit on it like a stool! And so I did lots of research to see what I liked or didn’t like and had a discussion with the artist. Right before we started, he suggested that we do it in two sessions (part one diamond, part two girl) because 1) it would be very expensive to do it all at once, 2) he was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to take the pain because of how large the completed piece would be. 

Of course I agreed. I mean, he’s the expert. Who am I to disagree with him, right? WRONG. I COULDN’T BE WRONGER (so wrong I have to use a non-existent word to amplify it) IF I TRIED. 

***** To be continued…… *****

xoxoxoxo. 

The special men in my life. 

Helloooo! Finally back from Kota Kinabalu and I’ve been so knackered. It was basically as uneventful as I expected and had tons of eye-rolling moments (which were totally expected). On our final night, I cried not once, not twice, but four times. Can you believe that. The first two were done while consoling people and the latter was done vice versa. I blame my overly sensitive tear ducts. Special shoutout to my special friend who gave me the massive embrace and his shoulder which I really needed. Thank you for holding me together while my heart was breaking into pieces. That hug really stopped me from falling apart. 

No more being sad, Sabrina Yeo. Do you want your year to be full of tears??? Even though X and I have been barely communicating these days (because what’s new Betty Blue he’s always busy), he too gave me a big pep talk when I came home. Which really gave my mood a boost. I love that man, he always makes me feel better and puts a smile on my face. 

And I know it makes me sound so shallow and a tad cold, but I don’t like bad news all that much and retail therapy always make things better. 

So now the question is, to buy or not to buy lol. Even though I love my Chanel, Ferragamo has always been my favourite. I have a few bags already, but this! Looks so soft and pillowy AND it’s pink AND on sale AND it’s the last piece! I’ve been contemplating for the last couple of days and every time I think, fuck this shit just buy it, I pause and hold back. Do I really need another bag? Should I spend hundreds on a bag even though it’s on sale? Decisions decisions. 

Ooh since I’m on an update roll… I’ve bought my tickets to Bangkok in March with the boys, and am planning another to go meet J in Sydney in June. And and and, my second tattoo will FINALLY be completed this year (will do another story on the delay)! 

See, Sab. It looks like many a good thing will be coming your way, so chin up. Unhappiness will only breed negativity and ain’t nobody got time for that. 

Ok. Back to the bag. To buy or not to buy…? :/

xoxoxoxo. 

Out with the old. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYSSSSS!!!

I have really mixed feelings about 2016. Can’t decide if I liked it or not but it doesn’t matter now that it’s over. Just hope that 2017 will be kinder to me. 

I’m not one to make resolutions because who has time for that shit? Can you believe after a 19-day break, I’d have to return to work in another day??? Noooooooooooo!!! Doesn’t help that I’ll have to go to some far-flung state in Malaysia for our annual cycle meet next weekend. I foresee tons of eye-rolling and bitching ahead. Way to start the new year huh. 

Before I go into rage mode…

Went for the Zara sale after Christmas and oh boy. I spent close to $400 but I’m so happy. Bought some stuff for work and some stuff that I might never wear but can I just say I’m most pleased with my oxblood panama hat and my PINK faux leather jacket?!?! Now I can be just like one of them pink ladies from Grease! *squeals*

Am actually eyeing a couple more items, so the only cheery thing about going back to work is the lunch time shopping! Who cares about food when I can buy clothes and shoes?

This was me mid pose but I joked that I’m crying because I have to go back to reality very soon. Very apt, ain’t it? And… my tweety bird clutch was also from the Zara sale- I love it!

Just in case you all are wondering, I did not drink a drop on the eve. Just hung out with family and watched them play mahjong like the homebody I really am. That’s also because I drank a shit load the night before hurhurhur. 

Am still sleeping when it’s almost dawn every night. Can I just say that I think I’ll be royally fucked when I start work again? Like look at me. It’s 4am now and I’m wide awake writing this and playing Wheel of Fortune on my phone lol. Finished one K-drama and am a bit hesitant to start a new one because the addiction can be real. Also started a new book but it will probably take me some time to finish it because hello responsibilities. 

Can I rest for another 19 days? I think it’s only fair since I gave my all to work the last 300+ days. Sigh. If only. 

xoxoxoxo. 

Sloth life. 

Merry Christmas everybody! Hope you all ate too much, drank loads and got what you asked for. 

I officially stopped work on 15th December and ohmygod I’ve been such a slob. I don’t sleep till at least 4 or 5am but I’m usually awake by 10am. Why?!?! Best time for me to be sleeping in but my brain betrays my body. 

Had a few gatherings the past week or so. Have been eating and drinking way too much but hey, it’s the time of the year for merrymaking right?

These are some of my ex-colleagues. Half of us are no longer with the company but we still have so much to talk about when we meet. 


Went for high tea with two very endearingly annoying people, and together, I christen us the trinity of irritants. Some drama ensued following our meet up. It was hilarious. Like I had a belly ache from the cackling. 

Later in the week, we had our team lunch and played secret santa. Unbeknownst to M, I was his SS and I must say I did such a great job pretending and acting. And you should have seen the look of disappointment on his face when he opened the booby gift- a photo frame (he previously joked that it has been a long time since he received one). I just had to make his dream come true. It was a joke. I’d never in my life give such crappy gifts. 


Can we just pause and admire my new shoes please? THEY ARE HELLO KITTY AND FRIENDS OMG. 


Ok moving on. This was us on the eve. Over the years, our group has gotten smaller but no less often. I’d trust these people with my life and more. 

I posted this on IG and X commented that it’s a weird (read: unsightly) pose. I say it’s professionalism. *flicks hair* I mean look how well the photo turned out. 


Ok not really but you get my drift. Christmas Day was a quiet-ish affair. Went over to the godmother’s house for the obligatory dinner only to have the biggest and blatant hint about asking me to go back to church. Ermmmm…


Changing the subject is what I do best and find most effective in awkward situations like that hahaha. So after dinner I escaped to J’s house to do what we do best- drink. 


All in all a good break so far. I’m enjoying being a sloth and not having to work so much that the thought of having to do so in the new year saddens me. But I can’t not afford to work. Sob. 

It’s all right I tell myself. I have one more week to enjoy this. And I will make sure I will. Now, since I’m not sleepy at all, what should I do? Watch a K-drama? Shop online? Ahhhh, decisions decisions. 

xoxoxoxo. 

This is a story of a boy. 

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was a little boy who had an unhappy childhood. He was sad all the time and had no one to talk to. He sought solace in dreaming about escaping and creating his own universe where nothing else mattered, where no one would be beaten up for no rhyme or reason at all, a place where he could finally be happy and free. 

One day, out of boredom, he cut out butterflies from his mother’s bedsheets because he found them so pretty to look at and wanted to rescue them from the confines of the coloured threads from which they were trapped in. He got punished of course, and ran to his room crying but still clutching those cloth butterflies. 

While in the throes of misery, he felt a little tickle on his palm. Rubbing his tears away, he slowly opened them and the butterflies came to life! They flitted around him, whispering wisps of thank yous and asked if he would like to fly away with them, to their world. Yes, yes!, he said. 

He closed his eyes and they took his hands, and together they flew and flew and brought him to a haven he had never experienced before. He had found paradise. 

Years later, after the boy was all grown up, he woke up one day and found himself back at his old home. Nothing seemed to have changed much despite his years away. And that made him sad again for a moment. But the difference was that he now knew how to open the secret door to his very own paradise, and that comforted him greatly. And oh how he smiled. And smile he would, because now he was an inventor. He could create beautiful things out of nothing with just his deft hands and brilliant mind.

And I do hope he still lives his happy ever after. The End. 

xoxoxoxo.