Today I went to Merry Hill to open a new bank account. I wonder anew at the glorious exchange rate. In H&M , the shirts are virtually value for money. Well for a lower quality range that is. I do like the jewellery here though. I will go crazy during christmas time. Its better than the singapore sale. Here, they slash prices mercilessly. Seriously, there is no lower you can go for some.
I guess if I was an economist, I;d be able to use the proper term , but it is for now what I call ...ultimate competition. Or hey, here we go... its come to me : aggressive open market competition saturated with demand and goaded on by advertisers. And i think that is economic kosher.
They used to have sales only in june or end of season [like sg has any different season] but here they have it all the time. Stuff is cheap here :)
Well, it looks cheap until you multiply everything by 3.
xx
g
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
B'ham City Pics
Today I went to speak to the HR, and I ought to be starting soon after the contract is drawn and signed. I am still holding my breath, because I think their HR is a shrink. HR speaks like d's step-sister Jane, who is a training pyschologist. Or rather, HR gives off that manilla aura. You know, a blank slate, pristine calm and happy.
After that, I went shopping. Obviously I am pleased. I got 2 pairs of trousers, a nice A-line skirt and 3 shirts. And a grey cardigan. So, I am set for almost eternity.
My Work Wardrobe
Trousers [black, grey and blue pinstripes]
Skirts [black, grey and blue pinstripes]
Shirts [black, white, blue, black pinstripes]
Shoes [1 pair, black doll pumps]
Coats [black, grey, brown]
Scarves [Plain red, black, green]
Gloves [Black, blue]
Sadly enough, I had most of my work wardrobe and winter gear with me. I sent those ahead of my fun stuff. All my moisturisers are in another bag.
Ah the thought of the day : This is it. This is the start of my life. I have now a stable job, I am looking forward to professional skilled training, and I am shacked up with a man. These of course aren't the tenets of my existence, but it feels so significant to be achieving the normal. Its so calming, and there is a satisfaction that even if I don't become a millionaire one day, I will still have comforts to go back to.
Below: Picture of my office. Ironically, I found the building because I just made a beeline to the Starbucks at the bottom [behind tip of man's head in the middle] Accountants cannot survive without.
After that, I went shopping. Obviously I am pleased. I got 2 pairs of trousers, a nice A-line skirt and 3 shirts. And a grey cardigan. So, I am set for almost eternity.
My Work Wardrobe
Trousers [black, grey and blue pinstripes]
Skirts [black, grey and blue pinstripes]
Shirts [black, white, blue, black pinstripes]
Shoes [1 pair, black doll pumps]
Coats [black, grey, brown]
Scarves [Plain red, black, green]
Gloves [Black, blue]
Sadly enough, I had most of my work wardrobe and winter gear with me. I sent those ahead of my fun stuff. All my moisturisers are in another bag.
Ah the thought of the day : This is it. This is the start of my life. I have now a stable job, I am looking forward to professional skilled training, and I am shacked up with a man. These of course aren't the tenets of my existence, but it feels so significant to be achieving the normal. Its so calming, and there is a satisfaction that even if I don't become a millionaire one day, I will still have comforts to go back to.
Below: Picture of my office. Ironically, I found the building because I just made a beeline to the Starbucks at the bottom [behind tip of man's head in the middle] Accountants cannot survive without.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Belle du Jour
What makes the perfect man? Me and my gf both have a view. Firstly, they can't be trusted and like the folks say, never rely on anybody but yourself.
So what is the perfect man ? Should he be rich ? Or poor and artistically inclined ?
My Requirements
1. Generous
He needs to understand I like shoes, and random presents every other day. I love lingerie, I love chocolates and EVERY girl loves flowers given at the right time, unexpectedly accurate. Besides those luxuries of which a girl can get accustomed to, he must be generous with his time. I want attention, and to be asked if I want a trip in town. I want to be treated like a princess, which is natural. I want to be taken out and definitely, I want to be seen where everyone else has IT, but not as much as I do.
2. Liberal
I will do what I want, when I want, and when I feel like it. I don't want to have to say who or where, what, when, how and hell knows what. Excuses are mortal. Consideration is not my strong point. If you think about it, its just two sides of a coin. One gives in and the other doesn't. Since it is not world politics or a management decision, the chance it flips to my side is inextricably unimportant. Meaning I might as well do whatever I please.
3. Glamorous
My man has to be a mix of sugar daddy and toy boy. He must be a Richard Gere, without the soppy puppy look. I'd like a man who can afford to give me so much money, that I have enough left over to buy him presents. He must have nice suits, an impeccable wine list, know what foie gras is, and possibly work in a posh law firm. Don't forget the condo, car, country club, career and charisma. I used to have a spa treatment every weekend, ate out 3 days of the night and got taken out everytime else. No sense breaking routine.
Thus I have come to a conclusion. As I tell my gf... Maybe he ought to be very hairy. And handsome, with a taste for travel and adventure, new food, dancing and culture. Or maybe he ought to be yours to begin with. Because currently, the perfect man does not exist. Trust me, I have looked.
That 10% that the perfect man ought to occupy in your life could be used for another hard night out with the girls, ending up at a cantonese stirfry, gloriously overdressed and indecently underdressed.
The definition of the perfect man is always fickle, always sappish and immature. Any female who wishes for one ought to be given one. You're better off making the money yourself, gf.
So what is the perfect man ? Should he be rich ? Or poor and artistically inclined ?
My Requirements
1. Generous
He needs to understand I like shoes, and random presents every other day. I love lingerie, I love chocolates and EVERY girl loves flowers given at the right time, unexpectedly accurate. Besides those luxuries of which a girl can get accustomed to, he must be generous with his time. I want attention, and to be asked if I want a trip in town. I want to be treated like a princess, which is natural. I want to be taken out and definitely, I want to be seen where everyone else has IT, but not as much as I do.
2. Liberal
I will do what I want, when I want, and when I feel like it. I don't want to have to say who or where, what, when, how and hell knows what. Excuses are mortal. Consideration is not my strong point. If you think about it, its just two sides of a coin. One gives in and the other doesn't. Since it is not world politics or a management decision, the chance it flips to my side is inextricably unimportant. Meaning I might as well do whatever I please.
3. Glamorous
My man has to be a mix of sugar daddy and toy boy. He must be a Richard Gere, without the soppy puppy look. I'd like a man who can afford to give me so much money, that I have enough left over to buy him presents. He must have nice suits, an impeccable wine list, know what foie gras is, and possibly work in a posh law firm. Don't forget the condo, car, country club, career and charisma. I used to have a spa treatment every weekend, ate out 3 days of the night and got taken out everytime else. No sense breaking routine.
Thus I have come to a conclusion. As I tell my gf... Maybe he ought to be very hairy. And handsome, with a taste for travel and adventure, new food, dancing and culture. Or maybe he ought to be yours to begin with. Because currently, the perfect man does not exist. Trust me, I have looked.
That 10% that the perfect man ought to occupy in your life could be used for another hard night out with the girls, ending up at a cantonese stirfry, gloriously overdressed and indecently underdressed.
The definition of the perfect man is always fickle, always sappish and immature. Any female who wishes for one ought to be given one. You're better off making the money yourself, gf.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Adjusting my profile
So it is confirmed, today I changed the settings on my facebook to private, got rid of weird groups and then .... my date of birth. It is now ambiguous, as I choose to age gracefully and let numbers fallow.
And a mention : My COUSIN , my favorite cousin, Kristel, has turned 18. I wish I could have been there. I do miss all of you very much.
Have some chilli crab , I live gastronomically through you.
Ah and more news : I am going to learn how to drive. Soon.
And a mention : My COUSIN , my favorite cousin, Kristel, has turned 18. I wish I could have been there. I do miss all of you very much.
Have some chilli crab , I live gastronomically through you.
Ah and more news : I am going to learn how to drive. Soon.
Epiphany
Today was a nice day. I beat D's PSP top score for lumines in one try, went shopping with his mom and sis for penguin pajamas .... and GOT A JOB. Its fantastic, because they're sending me for advanced study in a uni somewhere, plus i get paid in £ .
Its fantastic. I start a week from now and I am absolutely terrified that before I get to the office, they'll call and say "No, none for ya". I am sending my agent a hamper.
Anyway, I am off thinking about christmas in NYC :) Besides that, lots of walking around the english countryside. I am trying to take my camera out more, because I am regretting not taking enough photos of me in toronto.
Its fantastic. I start a week from now and I am absolutely terrified that before I get to the office, they'll call and say "No, none for ya". I am sending my agent a hamper.
Anyway, I am off thinking about christmas in NYC :) Besides that, lots of walking around the english countryside. I am trying to take my camera out more, because I am regretting not taking enough photos of me in toronto.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Maslow's Hierarchy
Tis a sad day when I have to use google spell for hieraRchy, which, without a reference, I swear should be hierachy.
I spent the whole of today doing NOTHING and its driving me mad. Waiting on a partner's meeting for one decision. Seriously ! It reminds me of watching the apprentice. Snivelling eggheads in suits. And it plagues me so.... How many of us want a desk job ? I think if I had my way, i'd be in a carpenters, or in a goldsmiths actually making something. I know I am brilliant at that. Minute, detailed, thoughtful work.
'Oh honors aren't good enough, how about you go to Havard, spend the entire GDP of congo on technical analysis courses, and then pimp yourself out to companies that destroy the souls of bright young things fresh out of uni ?' This is corporate. 120 hour workweeks, ketchup in the fridge, remnants of the last starbucks coffee, expensive shoes, a nice condo and when you get home, white sound ringing in your ears because there is nothing in the house alive except a cactus that is still alive why, cause its a frickin cactus. Seriously, the industry calls it a milk round , or by another name the Career Convention, which manages to electroplate to your mind that if you don't make it in finance, and in one of the top 4, you are doomed to squeaking along, unable to afford takeout like your glamorous peers who live the life described above.
I've lived that, and my conclusion : There is just so much french grammar and cryllic alphabet I can take.
Here is the filler. SO yes, besides learning a language as my life languishes by, waiting for that damn meeting, I have taken to entertaining d's cats with youtube flicks of cats that flush. Cat fights ! Cat plays the piano !
And now I am watching True Lies circa 1994. In German. Seems to be fitting somehow.
Tis a sad day.
I spent the whole of today doing NOTHING and its driving me mad. Waiting on a partner's meeting for one decision. Seriously ! It reminds me of watching the apprentice. Snivelling eggheads in suits. And it plagues me so.... How many of us want a desk job ? I think if I had my way, i'd be in a carpenters, or in a goldsmiths actually making something. I know I am brilliant at that. Minute, detailed, thoughtful work.
'Oh honors aren't good enough, how about you go to Havard, spend the entire GDP of congo on technical analysis courses, and then pimp yourself out to companies that destroy the souls of bright young things fresh out of uni ?' This is corporate. 120 hour workweeks, ketchup in the fridge, remnants of the last starbucks coffee, expensive shoes, a nice condo and when you get home, white sound ringing in your ears because there is nothing in the house alive except a cactus that is still alive why, cause its a frickin cactus. Seriously, the industry calls it a milk round , or by another name the Career Convention, which manages to electroplate to your mind that if you don't make it in finance, and in one of the top 4, you are doomed to squeaking along, unable to afford takeout like your glamorous peers who live the life described above.
I've lived that, and my conclusion : There is just so much french grammar and cryllic alphabet I can take.
Here is the filler. SO yes, besides learning a language as my life languishes by, waiting for that damn meeting, I have taken to entertaining d's cats with youtube flicks of cats that flush. Cat fights ! Cat plays the piano !
And now I am watching True Lies circa 1994. In German. Seems to be fitting somehow.
Tis a sad day.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Today Gwen browsed in Facebook. Now facebook itself is a communication tool used by millions of viewers etc. But THERE IS EVIL. I am possibly one of the truest 'needers' of facebook ie all my friends and family are at least 5 continents away. Yet millions use it everyday, for nudges, pokes, iLike, photo-me, you-me-whatsits, similarities among friends and countless other stupid attachments. The earthly blackhole of time and space as we know it.
But then again, it is fun to track down ex flings and voyeur at past acquaintances. Or maybe that person you met with the thing who said something on that night I got fantastically drunk from moet on my downtown patio overlooking the skyline of TO.
Oh am I supposed to say that ? But I definitly miss the city of TO. Rightly so, since now I have to walk to find a post office.
Though the CN tower has started looking like an oversized popsicle ... Its urban, lacking history, in a grid system, and its public transport sucks balls, the city needs better paving, you can find more cocaine than snow, its the slower sister of nyc and the ugly sister of montreal. Its not the most romantic city, its really got nothing going for it. Except that I used to live there and I was quite happy.
I shall go look at facebook now and try to dig up the kid i used to have a crush on when i was 10.
But then again, it is fun to track down ex flings and voyeur at past acquaintances. Or maybe that person you met with the thing who said something on that night I got fantastically drunk from moet on my downtown patio overlooking the skyline of TO.
Oh am I supposed to say that ? But I definitly miss the city of TO. Rightly so, since now I have to walk to find a post office.
Though the CN tower has started looking like an oversized popsicle ... Its urban, lacking history, in a grid system, and its public transport sucks balls, the city needs better paving, you can find more cocaine than snow, its the slower sister of nyc and the ugly sister of montreal. Its not the most romantic city, its really got nothing going for it. Except that I used to live there and I was quite happy.
I shall go look at facebook now and try to dig up the kid i used to have a crush on when i was 10.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Muse ....... minx !
And I'm feeling good......... oooooooooh yeah.
Muse is having a renaissance with me. Curse all these lanky brit blokes. From Jarvis Cocker to Brett Anderson , I smell something smokin*. Could be the social conscience that brit = good from a former colony, but I am a very lucky girl.
Muse is having a renaissance with me. Curse all these lanky brit blokes. From Jarvis Cocker to Brett Anderson , I smell something smokin*. Could be the social conscience that brit = good from a former colony, but I am a very lucky girl.
