Archive for September, 2006

September 16, 2006

who’s her dearest?

I was scrolling for something interesting on TV when I was interrupted by my mother

Mom : “Regine sucked her thumb today”

Me : “Yeah? I guess I should feel grateful about it.” [press press remote control]

Mom : “Do you know what that means?”

Me : “Uhm… she needs to have a pacifier?” [continue to press remote control]

Mom : “Nooo… It means, she will be very close to her father. It is believed that if a baby first sucks her thumb, she would hold her father as the dearest. If she first sucks the index finger, then it would be her mom. So, for Regine’s case, it’s you”

That piqued my attention. Though the belief may not be scientifically plausible, but I kinda liked the idea of my daughter holding me as her dearest. (and give me lotsss of money when I’m old and broke)

Me : “Wow, I didn’t know there’s such a method to soothsay a baby’s sociality. So, if she were to suck her middle finger, is she going to hold her husband as the dearest?”

Mom : “Heheh, maybe…”

Then what if the baby’s a male, and he first sucks his middle finger? Does that mean that he’s bound to become a homosexual? WHat about the ring finger or pinky? What would that portend? Anyone out there have any idea?

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 14 Comments
September 15, 2006


I had a boss whom I addressed as Mr.Tan in my previous company. He is a Singaporean. Doesn’t look like one though. He looks more like a parking attendant to me. Flip flops, gap T-shirt and knee length pants. Without that Singaporean attitude too, you know, being a conceited bigot and all that. A very friendly guy and as likeable as a plate of chicken rice (alright, that was a bad example. I’m feeling kinda woozy today due to sleep deprivation, so, cut me some slack here…)

One day, while both of us were working on something, Mr.Tan suddenly sighed out loud and asked me this

“Michael, do you know why modern Singaporean girls have big tits?”

I was quite surprised as to why my boss would ask me such a question. Like, what has Singaporean girls with big tits got to do with our work? Fearing that it might be one of those personality assessment trick to evaluate my work performance, I gave him a half witted reply, just to keep myself safe…

“Errmmm… I don’t know… maybe they’re being kneaded too much by dirty Singaporean guys?”

He gave out a friendly laugh and said

“No Michael. That’s because the previous generation fed them too well. Previous generation, people like me. We worked hard to earn all the money, and showered them with a good life. Coddled, spoilt and pampered. All the goodies we worked hard for, are all grown into big tits. In the old days, girls don’t have tits that big. That’s because life used to be hard.”

(he’s using ‘big tits’ as a metaphor, he didn’t sound as sick as I might have portrayed in my blog here…)

“Well, Mr.Tan, you should see it as a good thing that your children are leading a good life because of you… At least they don’t have to come out to suffer and work… like me.”

That sentence was an all out effort to etch both sympathy and impression in my boss’ mind. Yeah, you people should have noticed that I was already quite a smart guy at 19 (to be able to come up with such a beautiful shit at a relatively short time like that…).

“Hehh, yeah. But I feel that they’re too spoilt with all the attentions and good life. Just look at their clothes for example. They’re all expensive and branded. Me? I got mine at those cheap sale at pasar malam!”

And he continued to lament about how modern young Singaporeans squander their parents’ hard earned money on unnecessary items. And I listened. At the same time, also wondered, if the paradox was any true – that our children tend to become a better parent than us – which might have explained Mr.Tan’s distress. A generation spoiling the next.

Today, I had a disturbing sense of deja vu, when I looked into Regine’s eyes and saw the reflection of that zealous parent who fervently made funny faces just to trade for a hint of smile off his daughter’s lushy lips. It suddenly occurred to me that, hey, I’m actually doing a small scale coddling here. I’m like, consciously hypnotized to do it. I was telepathically being influenced to do things in favor of my baby. I’d entertain her when she wanted me to do it. I’d pay a lot of money for her. Hell, I’d even lose sleep for her (and that’s a big thing…).

If this goes unregulated, I might be washing my daughter’s car in the near future, and still feels alright about it! o_O”

And I ain’t sure if this is right. Why do we still do it knowing that the course would be brutal and unfair? Suddenly it made so much sense to me why the salmons killed themselves after laying their eggs…

But I’d still do it. Senseless acts of love. I’ll probably try to explain why when I can figure it out.

(Mr.Tan went back to Singapore after he got hit by a drunken Indian guy on a motorcycle while walking to a nearby food joint and I never saw him since then. I left his company one year later to join Company X)

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September 13, 2006

break time

Emily and I were sitting by the side of Regine’s cot, both of us were patting and lulling her to sleep. But our precious little girl just won’t sleep. She wanted daddy to make funny faces to her. She wanted the tour around the house where she gets to meet interesting objects such as the spinning ceiling fan, those cute little magnet fishes at the fridge and hanging nappies that seem to wave at her every time she sets her eyes on them. She wanted everything, except sleep… and the time was approaching midnight. It was one of the craziest nights we’ve ever experienced in our life.

While trying to keep that rebellious little princess in control, Emily then turned to look at me and said, “It’s funny isn’t it? Who would have thought that one day, we’ll end up like this in life…”. All the fancy courtships, all the heart warming episodes, all the moanings… they all apexes to this very point of our life, becoming a slave to a round faced cute little miniscule girl who seems to have the supernatural ability to charm even the meanest crocodile in the universe…

With tears almost oozing out of my eyebag rims (which developed over recent sleep deprivation), I nodded to Emily slowly, as if we’re 2 anguished prison inmates repenting our sins… It was an emotional moment. You know, THE moment. When things are silent and you’re mentally seeking asylum from the chaotic world. It lasted for only a couple minutes, and then it was cut off by a yelp from Regine, a sign that our break’s over and we went back to work as somebody’s parents.

I missed my life very much.

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 24 Comments
September 12, 2006

dolt – take 4

The lab phone rang, and again, I answered it (that’s because I am always the ONLY ONE inside the lab working my ass off).

dolt : “Hello may I speak to Mojo Jojo please?”

Me : “I’m sorry, he isn’t around.”

dolt : “Oh I see… Do you happen to know the extension number to his lab phone?”

Me : “Errmmm… you’re actually calling the lab right now…”

dolt : “So you don’t have the number?”

Scenario fades out… I don’t intend to blog about this encounter any further.. Leave me alone…

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dolt – take 3

The lab phone rang, I answered it.

Me : “Hello”

dolt : [in a very heavy Mandarin accent] “Hello may I speak to Burrito please?”

Me : [pause]

dolt : [in a very heavy Mandarin accent] “Burrito, is Burrito in?”

Me : [pause think pause think] “BRENDAN! *fffffu…ck* You’re looking for Brendan!”

dolt : [in a very heavy Mandarin accent] “Aahhh yes yes! Brendan!”

Me : “No he’s not in bye” [hangs up]

Man… I’d be so fucking depressed if someone was to name me after a Mexican food…

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