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Postcards from Paradise

 

St. Martin

Lady

Back in the day, it was a compliment to be called a lady. Surely anyone would rather be called a lady over a tramp (or worse). A lady has class, she has manners, she knows how to dress, and makes a good wife.

For me personally, I hate being called a lady. Unless the person calling me a lady is my grandmother. I doubt she would though. She would probably say that if I was a real lady I'd be married with two kids by now. Even though feminists would argue how people and society at large are infantilizing women in general and turning pre-teens into sex objects and older women into pre-teens, I'd still rather be called a girl than a lady.

I was in a lineup the other day at the coffee shop. The little girl was behind me asking her mom when their turn was. The mom replied, "After this lady then it's our turn." I physically cringed. Geez, when did I become a lady?! I guess I am not as young as I thought I was anymore. Maybe I won't get many more opportunities of being giddy after being carded at casinos, clubs, and liquor stores. Ok, so maybe I do look younger than my actual age (being Asian helps a bit), but as the number climbs upwards I'm starting to feel irrationally reluctant about admitting how old I am. I just want them to think I'm as old as I look and not have to correct them and damage my ego at the same time.

Then last week, another person referred to me as "that lady." Maybe they meant it in a polite way, better than being referred to that old hag, but there are times I wouldn't mind being called "that girl" for a few years more. I know for myself, I usually refer that l-word for my aunts and kind-looking grannies. Just something to think about for those men who think of it as a complimentary term of endearment. It's too soon to call your wife a "swell lady" if she is under 50 (but don't call her a "girl" either if it's preceded by old - you will pay for it later).

And on a totally different note, I'm reading this book called Classy: Exceptional Advice for the Extremely Modern Lady. Not earth shattering advice, but fun read nonetheless. From table manners to how to avoid cell phone sex photos from leaking online, it's pretty evident that we're far from the ladies of our mother's generation.

Sherlock

 

Sherlock: Masterpiece Mystery

OMG. Five minutes into the program and I was HOOKED. The gorgeous London backdrop was a super bonus. These BBC programs make lame American shows like the Kardasians look like trash (which they are).

Tech Junkies

Every morning I take the bus to work. I can't help but notice at the bus stop how everyone always has their heads down staring at their iphone screens. Well done, Apple! The iphone has turned into a natural extension of our palms. On the bus, people never look up. They are texting as they are crammed into the aisle. They are texting as they are waiting for the lights to change. They are texting as they are crossing the street. It makes me think at how, as technology is connecting us to people on the opposite end of the globe, it is making us less aware of our immediate surroundings. What happened to random conversations at the bus stop? Or, spontaneous conversations based on random observations as people wait around for their Starbuck drinks? Are we really so busy that we cannot stop texting nonstop? Or is it an avenue to avoid conversation and awkward moments beside strangers? No wonder it is getting harder to meet people.

It would be so nice if just for a day, we could cut down on our cell phone time to notice our surroundings and interact with people for a change. If we remember our manners and not text or talk on the phone as we are being served at a counter or continue chatting as the waiter arrives to take your order at the restaurant. Maybe we could find time and space to rest our brains for just a little and stop jamming irrelevant bits of information we don't really need to know so we can notice the little things in life. Maybe.

Pieces of You

Ah! First post in a long time. An absence explained by birthdays, late summer fun, job interviews, a new job, work dramas good and bad, and some good reads. I noticed I've been reading a lot more this past year ever since I discovered Goodreads because the website helps me finds books I want to read. The reason I stopped reading for awhile was because I never knew what to pick up. I realize how much I missed reading and now nice it is to get caught up in a good book, and at the same time, cut back on TV time. I've even got a new ereader for my birthday and am loving it (but still loyal to good ol paper books at the same time).

Anyway, I recently finished this one called Friends Like These by Danny Wallace. It's about this guy on the verge of turning 30 who decides to track down and reunite with friends from his childhood. It doesn't sound all that ground breaking, but something in it really connected with me. Like Wallace, I know what it's like to be fiercely nostalgic about my childhood. I miss it. If you've read my blogs before, you'll notice how stupid things from my childhood will amaze and excite me. I miss my childhood and feel reluctant to leave it behind. I would much rather watch cartoons in my pyjamas and eat froot loops for breakfast than push through the morning commute in a corporate suit.

In our technologically advanced world, I've found it so easy to relive those magic moments and watch childhood cartoon theme songs on YouTube, search for childhood toys on eBay, and search for old friends on Facebook. But perhaps there is something that makes you miss your childhood when one is at that point where we are supposed to be leaving our childhood and carefree days behind and step into the world of adulthood and "settling down in life" (ooh how I hate that phrase). You start wondering if this is a normal phase of life and how you compare with others you went to school with, as if they are the benchmark to measure yourself against. As if we can define our success with the money we earn, the number of children we have, and the people we end up being with.

A few years ago with the magic of Facebook I posted my first grade picture and for a month, connected with more than a quarter of those in my class. It was so weird. Familiar faces of kids whose lives crossed with mine for a year by coincidence and chance. I went to an international school in Hong Kong so the children were mostly those of diplomats and expats across the world who eventually returned to their own countries. I feel like I could've written my own book like Danny Wallace. I have yet to actually meet one in person but I'd think it's a bit weird. Like meeting a pen pal you once wrote to decades ago.

It's so bizarre to think that as I grew up, so did those boys and girls. In fact, many of them actually have successful and interesting lives. Much more interesting than mine.

That's me front row, far right. Always the shortest in the class and forever destined to sit at the left or right corner of the front row in all my class pictures until graduation. Do you still keep in touch with your old classmates? Where are they now?

Top Model

I came across this beautiful photo on Pinterest yesterday:

 

What a cute car! Also did you know that this is a rip off of my own model pose? Check this out

That's me at 3 in England in front of my uncle's car! Ah, I could have made a successful career as a model posing next to cars... hehe!