where?

the cat ran away.

i had brought her to the cat sitter's place the night before i was due to fly back to singapore. the cat sitter lives in the suburbs about 40 minutes away from central paris. the cat was agitated throughout the journey: the loud noises and the strange smells scare her.

we tried to calm her down but she hid herself in a corner. then she found the cat flap and escaped to the garden. she wouldn't come when i call her, like what i'd trained her to do. she wouldn't let me approach her, not even when i was making cooing noises to calm her down. she took a look at me, went under the fence to the neighbour's and then ran off to freedom.

there was no sign of her ever since.

i am drowning in deep dark helpless frustration. i'm all the way here in singapore while she's somewhere out there. i don't know where, just not here with me, not in my apartment, not at the cat-sitter's. where is she? where???

she doesn't have a collar on, though she does have a microchip with my contacts embedded in her nape. she doesn't associate the cat sitter's place with warmth and safety so there's no way that she's going to make her way back there. but how is she going to find her way back to my apartment in paris? all the way from the suburbs? my stomach turns at this thought.

i am an emotional wreck now. not allowing myself to cry all day today because i still hang on to the hope that she will come back. if i cry, it will be admitting defeat, declaring that i've given up hope. it can't end this way. noooooooo!

now i can't sleep.

i have a meeting with the big boss tomorrow morning about that houston transfer. i need to sleep but i can't. i'm jetlagged and have a monstrous headache. i need to have a clear rational mind so that i can persuade big boss to continue supporting me in my crusade to not go to houston.

i can't stop thinking about her.

i remember the first time i held her in my hand, 2 weeks old and her eyes had barely opened. her fur was all fluffy in that innocent kitten way. i think about her snuggling next to me in bed, purring and nuzzling in my arms. what luxury to wake up to that every morning! i can still feel her trembling in my arms as i held her, frightened in the train. is that the last time i hold her?

my poor cat. where are you? where?

come back. just come back to me.

it's a no ... or is it?

i told BIG GUY "no", giving him the reasons about the job being too entry-level and support-natured, and that i have reservations about moving to houston. he then went on to try to convince me that he thinks that it is an excellent post for me, and then went on to elaborate on all the contributing factors. (he was actually very thorough, and frankly i had to agree that it was really the best proposal that they can make for me, given my mid-term career goals.)

as for my reservations about moving to houston, he went hmph, houston can be a difficult place if you haven't got enough time to settle in. i told him that i had spent 4 (i didn't add "tormented") months there in 2003 and i know it well enough to say that i do not wish to be there again.

BIG GUY said don't dismiss this opportunity now, talk to the guys there first, and then chose whether you want career or lifestyle.

so COWBOY called me from houston to conduct a phone interview. i asked a few obligatory peripheral questions about the job, the profile of the team, prospects, the usual blah blah and asked if he had looked at my resume and if he had any questions about my work experience that he wanted me to elaborate on.

COWBOY said normally i would conduct a face-to-face interview but given that BIG GUY is pushing for you to join the team, this phone interview should suffice. it's not a yes/no interview anyway.

bad vibes. seriously really bad vibes. COWBOY has to take me because BIG GUY says so but frozen ananas doesn't even want to be there in the first place! leave me out of your political power play!

i spent all of last night replaying this scene in my head. i had said "no" not "yes", not even breathed a word that could be mistaken for a "yes" by a deaf lip-reader. how did things spiral out of my control? what is the situation now, anyway? as far as i am concerned, it's still a "no"...

... or is it?

negativity

i do not agree with guns
i do not agree with war
i do not agree with giant cars that drink petrol like i drink vodka

i do not like the heat
i do not like humidity
i do not like sitting in airconditioning all day long in the office

i do not speak spanish
i do not speak politics
i do not speak french either but at least it sounds like music

i do not want to go houston
i do not want to go anywhere
i do not want to go
i do not want to go
i do not want to go
no
no
no
no
no
i simply do not!
*pout*

dilemma

mid week, i received an offer to transfer out of my department to my ideal dream job. it was something that i had been praying / wishing / hoping / plotting / scheming for since the end of last year and finally it's going to come true!

but wait!

there is a catch...

i'm going to have to relocate yet again so hence comes my dilemma.

do i chose my career:
something i've been doing for the past years, taking the opportunity to travel around the world and to live the life of a happy (working) wanderer. the post offered is really what i want to do, what i know i am good at and interested in. it's perfect for the short term and holds great promises in my long term development. this great opportunity may never knock at my door again! however, i will have to go through the pain of uprooting myself and to re-equilibrate my life in a totally new environment, new friends, new life, new everything. all over again. to make things worse, i'd spent a few months in this new city some years back and absolutely hated it.

do i chose lifestyle:
to stay in a place where i am happy, where i've managed to sink deep roots and where i've found contentment. frankly i'm tired of leaving new friends behind and having to find my own little familiar corners in a new city. but it means being stuck in my non-stimulating job for time indefinite until something else comes up. or until i run berserk from boredom.

i have to think things through over the weekend. my reply is expected on monday.

which should i choose? what should i do?

miracle cream

these days women (and even men) are confronted by a vast array of youth creams promising eternal youthfulness, proclaiming the ability to reverse the effects of aging. the influx of influence from the fashion world has changed our perspective of age: what used to be respect for the wise elderly now becomes blind worship of youthfulness.

to what end? i cringe when i see a women dressed up as someone half her age, or "mutton dressed as lamb" as my welsh ex-colleague aptly put it. not that we really mind when it is all tastefully presented, but when the resulting presentation jars all five senses, well, i say, forget about woman's lib, use your common sense!

but really, i've leapt over the 30 hurdle a couple of years ago and still get mistaken for a fresh grad in the office. although flattering, it becomes a pain when i try to get some credibility in meetings. when i recite my history of work experiences (a common thing to do in france during first introductions), i get looks of amazement and "vous avez quel age?" how old are you? and it's not because i have been faithfully slathering youth cream all over my face either! i suppose i should count myself lucky to have youthful genes.

which leads me to my next problem: dating younger men. it's not something that i actively pursue... but somehow it seems to end up this way. but why not younger men? they are curious about the world, they have lots of drive for their budding careers and they (still) have a full head of hair. but then again, one can argue that older men are more worldly and have more stability in their outlook, and that they know (presumably) what they want in life.

it's not that i am superficially chasing after a youthful adonis or that i enjoying mothering malleable young minds... but just that i've always had more in common with people who are younger than i am: most of my closest friends are younger than i am. really, my impression of guys my age is that they are too bogged down wiith the responsibilities in life, too jaded in their expectations and too involved with what they want. i suppose conversely, i'm not that appealing to older guys either with my wacky flights of fancies, sudden bursts of eccentricities and my unexplainable need for freedom and space.

perhaps i am peter pan who refuses to grow up, perhaps i am just afraid of getting old, or perhaps i'm just simply immature!

or perhaps my mother had spilled a jar of youth cream on my head when i was young resulting in my eternally youthful brains. which goes to prove that those miracle creams really do work!!!

at the brink

it was one of those days in the office, commonly known as "un journee d'enfer" a day in hell.

i dropped you an email to say hi, how was your day, mine's really bad. you replied that yours wasn't any better. i sent you a "bon courage" work hard, be strong.

and you, you sent me kisses!

i caught my breath and stopped to bask in the warm sweetness of those kisses...

mmmmmmmm... all of a sudden, today seemed a lot brighter now.

thank you for looking good

for the second year running, the trip to the optometrist bore great news: my eyesight has improved! this reverse in trend is wonderful news, especially for someone who has been wearing spectacles since 10. strangely enough, it coincides with my move to france.

is it a coincidence? could it be...? due to a diet of french bread? or is it because of excessive consumption of burgundy wines? or... maybe... just maybe... yes! i think that's the real reason.

it has to be!

i think my eyesight is better now due to the countless beautiful french men i see on the streets every day.
- middle-aged men dressed stylishly striding by in st germain des pres
- young executives with their smothering good looks at the cocktail bars along georges v
- the bohemiem men with their 3 day stubble and ever-present smell of cigarettes and coffee
- beautiful gay men strutting their stuff in the marais, proud as peacocks
- slim vietnamese boys hovering shyly on the metro trains
- brash young students with their giant headphones blasting their eardrums away in the latin quarters

thank you to all you frenchmen out there, for looking so tantalisingly good. but not you, gerard. sorry old boy. *embarrassed cough*

rain rain go away...

... because i want to wear my snakeskin killer heels tomorrow.

i have a mid-week date with him tomorrow evening, and i really want, no, need to wear my killer heels.

so i went from one weather website to another, hoping in vain to find a glimmer of optimism, a break in the gloomy grey clouds . if i could find a warm sunny forecast on dubious totally_inaccurate_weather.com, i would happily believe it. unfortunately there appeared to be a web-wide conspiracy to predict dismal weather tomorrow. this prediction consensus could only mean one thing: confirmation. no chance of all 4 websites making a mistake and satellite photos don't lie.

what to do, what to do, what to do? the outlook is decidedly blue... and grey... and rainy and cold. bleak would be a perfect word for tomorrow.

urg, not only do i have to stay up late deciding on what to wear (and ironing it), and then changing my mind (followed by more frevent ironing), i have to think about the shoes too! this is a disaster! *pout* it's too rainy for slingbacks or peep-toe heels, but still too warm for boots...

which of my shoes should i wear for my date tomorrow?

shhhhhh...

you use the chinese version of my name
shu and not sue
i don’t remember telling you about it

maybe i had joked about it
saying that i love shoes
my grandparents had the foresight
chose my name
whispered with obsession

maybe i had laughed at it
saying that i'm your chouchou
a common french term of endearment
like my name
repeated with love

maybe you picked up the scent
of my special east-west brew
instinctively adding the shhhhhh
like my name
the way my mum uses

i don't know why
you use the chinese version of my name
shu and not sue
i don’t remember telling you about it
but if I did
i’m glad you remembered