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Tiny Tits and Indignity
Went to get a bra yesterday at Pierre Cardin, only to face the indignity of being told they don’t come in my size – because i’m too small.
“Oh this brand seldom stocks anything smaller than B70… most places don’t.”
For most of my life I’ve worn bras slightly too large – or when I discovered online shopping – ordered them online (usually at a higher price). No, I refuse to buy from Young Hearts because i demand my right to sensible bras with underwire. What I don’t understand is
1) Why am I paying more for less material?
2) I’m pretty sure there are girls in Singapore with my cup size, so why the total lack of supply for it?I’m an A70, because i’m an Asian and will not cease until i get all my As. Also it means i’m more susceptible to lower boob fats. The market exists, Singapore! Where are my fitting bras? I’m fully aware that my breasts are on the miniature end of the bell curve, but does that mean i’m not entitled to support like everyone else? They are tiny but they are here you know! The indignity.
On a more serious note though, there is the problem of girls buying misfitting bras and passing them off as okay. At an age where they’re still growing (and they grow all the way up to 21, for some), this can be stunted or misshapen growth.
When i first got my proper adult A70 bra, i never knew how much i’d been missing on. It was like a “OHHH so that’s what a bra’s supposed to feel like” moment. It doesn’t just provide the right support, but makes them bigger (i’m talking non pushed ups here) because they are built for your precious As.
Singapore needs to stop this tiny tit discrimination and step up with bras for everyone.
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Meander
There is something about me today and panicking about lost / found memories.
In the showers I was struck with regret at my lack of detailed everyday recounting. It’s too late to pen down fresh, happy happenings. In less than a month, J leaves for the US. Life will be so, so much different to the past few years. If only I had more records of our time together, the small things, the ones that really matter.
But then again, really, what would I have written? “Today, we lay in bed talking about life and everything else.” For an accurate recapture of what we did, how I felt, how precious the moment is to me, it’ll take more effortful musing. Just not practical as a daily exercise I guess.
I wish there was some way to record all our conversations together. There are probably hours amassed. I’m not sure if other couples talk as much as we do. Evidently we’re both people who love to yammer on about practically anything, online and offline. There is nothing we leave unpicked I guess, from cultural and moral debates to abstract discussions of art to idle gossip and lengthy explorations of games and shows and anime. Basically everything.
This is something I’ll miss very, very, very much. There is something about being face to face with someone, with nowhere to go and nothing urgent to pursue, just wringing ourselves dry of opinions and thoughts and musings and revelations. I leave every conversation with insights both from myself and J. Anyway.
Yeah my point being, I feel urged to start a more detailed diary of the mundane everyday, and at the same time feel the ache of being too late. Also, the lack of a suitable platform.
I’d say the closest to the kind of functionality I desire is Dayre. But the thing about Dayre is that it sets out to be a social media platform than a tool. There are no password locks, privatising, anonymous follows. Currently I’m keeping one as my Dream Journal, and so far it has very neatly fulfilled its duty haha. Love going back to read my nonsense dreams.
But yeah, something close to Dayre’s layout and features, but with more anonymity? Anyone has a recommendation?
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Hey
Just went on a massive privatising spree, fueled by paranoia. The truth is that not that many people read my blog. Still, the sense of shame that has developed late, but nonetheless arrived, gave me a mini panic attack.
Partly motivating this is a little episode one night at Vanessa’s place, hanging out with the girls. We trawled through her blog archives (all the way to primary 5!!!) and it was goodtimesfuntimes for us all. Stomach-cramping laughter at the expense of her past vapidity.
It’s alright confined within our circle (NOPE, NOT SHARING HER URL), but ugh the thought of anyone else – especially in the professional arena – chancing upon our lame kid selves is horrifying.
Plus, like i’ve lamented a million times, i feel so constrained by knowledge of how public and permanent blogs can be. :-( So many times i’ve stopped short of posting something more private. Anyway, I’ll never give this place up. Probably will break a record for longest blogging streak ever, at least locally. It’s been almost a decade!
Reminder to self: Take more photos when out for keepsake, update this place more often, no matter how mundane or lame. Lame then lame lor, i’m lame what. Ok bye!
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Don’t blame yourself for your depression. Please?
This post has been on my deck for awhile. My plan was to pen it when i’m ready to do it full justice, but have come to realize that this state may never come. I’d rather try, though, than never getting the message across: so here it is.
Firstly, excuse my lack of knowledge and true experience. I have never been depressed. The closest contact i’ve come to it is dealing with the depression of loved ones, and through university courses (far less useful). So anything i’ll say is not representative of all victims of depression.
Heck, i’m barely gonna skim the surface of what depression is. Today, my foremost concern is with a very specific aspect of depression – a response to it even: self-blame.
Sufferers of depression as their own, most unforgiving, critics.
This may be especially prevalent in my circle, where we’re all relatively privileged. I hear extreme self-blame and guilt as the greatest fallout after a depressive episode.
“I know life has been good to me, so why do I still feel this way?”
They feel selfish, undeserving, and most of all confused. Whatever the trigger might be (insignificant, or non-existent), they tell themselves that so many others have it much worse. I shouldn’t be feeling the way I feel, but I do.
It’s easy to explain that everyone, innately, has different thresholds and response tendencies. It’s not your fault. But to ease the guilt that comes with it is close to impossible. As someone prone to guilt (I blame this on Asian parenting), i imagine myself being wrought up with these self-destructive thoughts.
Emotions are biological too.
Psychology and neuroscience are infants in the scientific world. It took awhile to convince us that the world isn’t flat. It might take a little longer to grasp that how people feel is governed by a complex interplay of neurotransmitters; that dysfunction in the balance of neurotransmitters is as biologically real as, say, diabetes.
But we’re getting there. For every person who refuses to recognize depression as a real illness, there is another who is empathetic to sufferers of the disorder.
Just as how you could never blame someone for fighting cancer, for having Alzheimer’s, for losing both their legs – anyone who has tried to understand depression as it is will not blame the victim for suffering.
The greatest contradiction in response may come from victims themselves. On one hand, they know most intimately how utterly devoid of control they are of the condition. On the other, they are the first to experience it as an emotion than a symptom. Therein lies their desire for others to understand depression as a disorder, and the disturbing thought that it isn’t an inflicted illness – just themselves.
A disorder or just who I am?
Depression is so closely tied to cognitive function that, unlike more physical disorders, it denies the sufferer their ability to perceive self as victim. And sometimes that is important. Rhetoric can play a huge role in recovery: we overcame suffering, we fought a disease, we recovered from an illness. The origins of depression, though, is often cast in doubt.
A victim’s own traits and cognitive tendencies are apparent to them throughout their lives, relative to latent genetic information embedded in DNA. It is precisely this self-understanding that leads them to suspect: what if it isn’t actually depression, but how i am chronically?
In my opinion, it’s both.
Innate disposition – that is otherwise healthy – can tend one towards depression if met with certain situations. Neuroticism, for instance, is one of the greatest predictors of depressive symptoms of all personality traits. In moderate amounts, or in a safe environment, it can be very adaptive. It keeps a person from risky behavior, encourages meticulous work, etc. When met with triggers, though, the same person is more susceptible to spiralling down depression. If a medical parallel were to be drawn, it’s akin to a patient having a genetic predisposition to cancer.
You’re the last person to be apologizing.
So yes, it’s you chronically. Part of your personality, who you are, it may even have a role to play in why you’re an amazing person. But it doesn’t mean you have to be chronically depressed. No matter how closely you had tended to depression (for as long as you can remember), depression isn’t who you are. You are a victim. Like many physical disorders, it happened to you beyond your conscious control. You didn’t make it happen. So as much as you can, go easy on yourself. Please.
That said, things can be done. However helpless or uncontrollable it may be, it can be contained with professional help. I can never understand it fully – but i do know that in the darkest of your times, trapped in your own mind, relief becomes an impossible feat. There is no bodily pain that propels you to a clinic.
Many may not even realize they are depressed, and may trudge on thinking the mental torment they deal with daily is part of life. Herein lies the finicky part of depression. It is so difficult to separate mind from mind, and notice that something is wrong. Perhaps even more so for the depressed than people around them.
To those whose loved ones are depressed.
It breaks my heart that on top of coping with depression, many sufferers take up the burden of guilt. They cannot forgive themselves for (they believe) unnecessarily stressing loved ones. The truth – that it is stressful to care for someone with depression – doesn’t help.
Friends, family, spouses of those who are depressed, for every ounce of frustration you face dealing with them, get this: he/she is doing it with much less mental resources. Often, they lack the hope, optimism, and even blind naiveté we instinctively rely on.
Depression exists on such a wide spectrum there isn’t a universally appropriate way to provide support. But from personal experience, one thing we should prioritize is absolving the depressed of their guilt. It’s an elusive task that i cannot yet complete, but for god’s sake try. Never let a loved one with depression feel like they are to blame for their illness. Never ever try to imply that it was well within their control to prevent depression from happening. Because they aren’t, and it wasn’t.
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The children in Kinabalu
The quake in Sabah has been on my mind since this morning, when i first read about it. I’ve spent most of the weekend cocooned from the rain and world affairs. The entrance back into real life wasn’t pleasant.
Cognitively, i know that tragedies – involving innocent children, no less – happen everywhere, all the time. But there is something about it happening close to home that hits hard. It bypasses the protective apathy or ignorance you wear as armor, and it hurts straight into the guts.
I made the admitted mistake of watching a clip of the survivors from TKPS coming home. It was anything but reassuring. Children aged 12 or less were crying in a broken, irreparable way; the kind of cry that you cannot get over. No child should have to go through that. Even the survivor’s parents, who would be relieved, appeared distraught. They came too close to tragedy, and the striking possibility of their child being lost is too real to give them peace I’d think.
Most of all, I feel for the parents of children who did not survive. Just – i can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for them. The hell of waiting for news and the loss of their child. I’m not discounting the death of any other demographic, but here there’s an extra dimension of grief: guilt, responsibility, the utter helplessness.
The first body to be identified. I read an interview had with her father. He didn’t want her to go initially, fearing for her safety. But he had denied her of a school trip previously and didn’t want to disappoint her again. It struck me just how difficult it is to be parent. Your decision to protect or please, the stark lack of guidelines on just when to let go. There is such a dearth of control over your child’s safety and happiness, no matter how hard you try.
One day I’ll have my own child. Or at least I really, really want a child. Then, I’ll fully understand the fears of being a parent that comes with the joy. Even now I feel their hurt – and this tiny glimpse of it is enough to disturb me deeply. I have no idea whether I’d be able to handle he full responsibility.
Future me, if you are with child and reading this, please do me a favor and give him/her/them a big, tight hug right now. Do it everyday. You can never fully prevent harm but at least let them know they’re loved.
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*u*
Today was a good one.
Binge watched The Office, caught up with my Guild Wars 2 Elementalist.
Only downside of having ele as my first main is that it’s so fun, no other class can beat it. The grind at the beginning is so worth it once you’ve mastered all your elements and acquired lightning hammer and fiery sword. Also learning to stack might while switching between elements of course. Took awhile but I’m generally terrible with video games and it’s achievable.
Just started on a warrior, although most people online describe it as a repeatedly mashing of #2 key haha. Might as well play maple story? I love the flexibility of ele – i can play melee or ranged, choose to heal or be offensive based on my weapon builds. Also my skills are the prettiest ever??? I love Phoenix Claw. There’s something about that cry that sets off a primitive and bloodthirsty part of me. Ok starting to sound disturbingly geeky here. Shall stop.
/eleraveend
Went for a cycle at the park with my dad. Found a great western place that had grilled fish aglio olio WITH SAMBAL BELACHAN. The sambal balachan was the best. I can’t usually finish my food without spamming a whole lot of chilli and the generous dollop was just perfect.
Had a nice chat with dad strolling with my dad. Should make it a point talking to him more often. It’s kind of selfish but he’s someone who takes the most genuine interest in listening to my life right down to the most mundane details. He takes my problems and worries very seriously. Appreciate it dude.
Alright. It’s back to work tomorrow.
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Growth
These days I feel more receptive of change, which is very much unlike my style. When I think of my past, it’s no longer with urgent recapturing but with nostalgic fondness. More often than before, I’m excited doing things relevant to the future. It’s a nice feeling, to have a drive towards change – even if I’m not completely sure what into.
This introspection is probably fueled by meeting people old and new. From new people I learn how varied human experiences are, which does something to previously narrower perspectives. From old friends I learn retrospection: we have grown in different ways but it takes each other to fully reflect on how we have done so. The biggest thing that has changed is that I’ve become more honest with myself. Thank you, self.
For the following month/years, I’m gonna confront it head on. There are things I’m excited about, friends coming home, settling into a career path, graduating. There are things that daunt me, the absence of J, having to choose a career path, graduating… But hey. I’m prepared.
There will be a time I have to confront and get over the prickly things that still bother me, but baby steps.
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Fargo (TV series) round-up
I need a good gush on Fargo.
There is so much to go in-depth about for a review, but to do it justice i’d need to spend way more time than i can afford now with work. Essentially, it’s amazing and everyone should give it a try.
1. I don’t know why i started.
Throughout the first episode i kept asking myself: “Why am i watching this?” Not because it was bad, but… it just didn’t seem like something i’d watch. The premise is as distilled as it can be: man arrives in town and corrupts other man. Small town cop investigates. The best i can do with categorizing it is dark comedy. By the first episode, i still had no idea what i was into – but damn was i hooked.
2. It’s just… good.
It’s difficult to pinpoint why exactly, because every element is perfectly crafted then melded together into an impeccable series. The acting – Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Colin Hanks, Allison Tolman. There is literally no attractive person on the cast, male or female. By attractive i mean Hollywood attractive. NONE. Except maybe Collin Hanks, he is strangely appealing. Shut up.
That is just so rare in any show? They’d always have at least a token hot girl. But no Fargo doesn’t give a shit. Everyone is as they are, like in real life. Acting is top-notch from everyone: the chilling Billy Bob Thornton, and special mention to Martin Freeman.
FREEMAN you beautiful human being. As if being an excellent Watson isn’t enough. Here he is as Lester, his Minnesotan accent fucking spot-on; the transition of him from awkward to angry believable and stunning. He has such unassuming control over his self; i can only describe his success in acting as not being over. His eyes when he *spoiler* sends Linda to her death for his sake, i went breathless and had to watch it several times, just reveling in that moment of acting that transcends fiction and becomes fucking art.
3. The script is genius.
This is a series to be re-watched, because there are just too many moments of discreet humor along with the more direct ones. It’s a kind of funny that seamlessly weaves into the dialogue and plot, the kind of humor that punctuate our daily lives. It is unpretentious and natural, and thoroughly enjoyable. You get the kind of rush when you share an inside joke; also you’ll feel smart because their jokes aren’t cheap.
There are also gems of genius in the writing i can’t quite describe. They grab you and tease you, then before you know it surprise you. *Spoiler* I was especially taken by the scene where Malvo follows Gus home, the neighbor who had shared a midnight cuppa with Gus went up to Malvo and hissed “you’re not supposed to be here.”
At this point we’re aware of Malv’s manipulative ways and resourcefulness. I just know the scriptwriters were attempting to make us infer neighbor is involved with Malvo. They quickly let us know it’s not true though, but still – that tiny little audience manipulation to let you know they care. Brilliant.
Also, the beautiful fucking cinematics. I apologize for all the swearing in here, my love for Fargo is tapping into that. It’s like Wes Anderson without being pretentious.
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SMU Local Exchange 2015!
I’ve been meaning to blog about my local exchange at SMU (which i thoroughly enjoyed), but with work starting and weekends fermenting away from my computer, it has not yet materialized.
Maybe some day i’ll do a more detailed post? But for now a brief recap so i don’t forget good memories.
1. The people!
There are many, many people i don’t know in SMU – but i didn’t get the “so alone amidst a crowd” feeling even once. I suppose it’s because i’m on exchange and therefore expected not to know anyone. Also, everyone’s really friendly! You are quick to respond if you ask for help, and it feels pretty corporate so there’s no real clique-ing up or anything.
I’d have thought an SMU exchange would be spent with the St Nicks girls, but since they are either a) overseas b) on LOA or c) super busy, i hung out mostly with the Hwachong guys! Without this exchange i wouldn’t have had the chance to catch up with everyone for a whole sem, so for that i’m really grateful. Shout out to Jianyi who buddied me through my otherwise hollow Thursdays!
It was also nice having Shereen in my class (first since 2009)! Since uni, she has been so busy as a law student it’s almost impossible to poach her for some R&R. I do treasure my lessons spent with her a lot + flash HTHT sessions here and there.
2. Campus
Absolutely love the campus. Firstly, it is BLOODY ACCESSIBLE. I take less than 40 min to get to school. NUS back home is absolute hell, and since i’ve always lived in RC, i’m talking once a week (which is bad enough).
Secondly, the library is amazing. It’s clean and bright. I avoid NUS library because it feels infested with old germs and grime. The feel of SMU is pretty much a more corporate UTown. BUT NEARER.
I like how everything is gleaming and new. It tingles the raven-esque part of me that craves shiny objects. Also you can walk from one end to another within 10 min? Please do not attempt this in NUS because it will take more than an hour.
3. Course Material & Classes
I had a glorious 2 day work week, and 4 courses. It was overall pretty chillax LOLOLOL. At least in terms of Psych, NUS is a lot more hardcore. We focus more on the academic side of Psych, i guess – whereas SMU is more about application. It’s only after i took some SMU psych mods did i realize how academically rigorous NUS Psych department is. This is not necessarily a bad thing, because i love being challenged and it is the scientific rigor that founded my obsession with Psych.
The workload was very manageable, and the tutors are are very willing to guide you along. I can’t speak for all modules though, only the ones i took (see below). Just make sure you do some basic preparation, and actually bother about the graded work lol. I wanted to take exchange easy, so tbh i slacked off way more than i would’ve allowed myself in NUS. The only parts i put extra effort in were project group work, cause i didn’t want to be that exchange deadweight.
Overall, i did pretty well! BUT it may be because of the modules i took. I think many other SMU students take on extra workload/have other work/take tougher mods. I’m not very sure what the norm is in SMU, or even what my GPA means (we use CAP), but hey! Many As! I’m happy enough. I heard that SMU students get higher than 4 (which is their max GPA) though. :O
4. Food
This is one thing i’ll miss the most about SMU… THE FOOD CHOICES. Don’t understand when SMU friends complain there’s “nothing much to eat around here”. NO!!! You don’t understand!!! There’s Dhoby Ghaut, Raffles Place, Bugis, Bras Basah… there is nothing you CANNOT eat around here! From cheap hawker food to school food to upscale cafes… everything is there omg! I found so many food gems and am so, so sad to leave them behind!
Things i will miss: 18Chefs (student meal!), Makisan, Nam Nam, the Cold Storage salad Shereen and i love (it is SO GOOD), momolato gelato, Food Summon hawker centre… EVERYTHING!!!
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I’m already missing SMU wehhhhh ;-(
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