Will he be the next Superstar?

Recently, the search for the next Superstar (a Chinese singing contest similar to American Idol) in Singapore, has sparked off some controversial comments on a particular contestant.

This contestant has been in the limelight not because his singing is as horrendous as William Hung, or because he is the best singer on stage, but because of his disability—he is blind.

The media reported that he was not the only person with physical disabilities who took part in the contest, although he is the only one who made it into the final round of 24 contestants. One Superstar would eventually emerge from the contest after 23 others are eliminated by a panel of judges and also through viewers’ voting. Last week, he made it into the round of 16 finalists.

Recent controversies arose because one the hosts had asked him on stage whether he thought viewers would vote him out of sympathy. There was an awkward silence before he said that he thinks people should vote him for his singing and not because he is blind.

Later on, some viewers had outrightly said that he should not be allowed to take part in the contest because people would offer him sympathy votes and that would not be fair to other contestants. His response is once again for people to appreciate his singing, and not place so much emphasis on his disability because he did not choose to be blind.

I really admire his courage to deal with the social pressure. In the first place, it is not easy for a normal person to pluck up the courage to take part in a contest. What more for someone who has disabilities.

I think he can sing pretty well. But, quoting a local entertainment journalist’s words, “A lot of people on the streets can sing well, but how many can really be an idol?”

And unfortunately, he is one of those who cannot. At least in my humble opinion.

Let’s face it. We are looking for a Superstar here. As we can see in the entertainment sector, those who can really make it big have the X factor. Those who do not, try to shadow their flaws by picking up dancing, hosting and acting.

Today, most popular singers are all rounders, or at the very least, they can do more than just sing. They go on promotional trips, hold concerts and have meet-the-fans-sessions. We viewers are greedy. If a singer is good looking, we want him to be able to sing. If he can sing, we want him to dance. If he looks good, can sing and dance, we expect him to host and act too. The key is not to be able to juggle all areas, but to excel in all. That is how realistic the market is.

For him, I can only say that it is a pity he has the disadvantage of the lack of vision.

I am not so concerned about the so-called sympathy votes, because as long as there is support from viewers, it does not matter whether they come from genuine appreciation or sympathy. Please be fair to him. Anyone has the freedom to vote for him whether out of sympathy or not. Someone who is rich can make thousands of calls to vote for himself, should we ban rich people from taking part in the contest then?

What I am more concerned about, is the lack of connection between him and the audience. The most forefront problem—“eye-connection”.

When the audience cheer and clap for him, he will be able to sense it, and might even feel more strongly about the support because of the acute sensitivity a blind person is known to possess. But can we feel the same from him? From my observation last week, I felt touched by his voice and singing, but certainly not his expression.

He may be a dark horse now, but when will the novelty wear off? Soon I think.

I have nothing against people with disabilities, in fact, the struggles they face in their everyday life is almost unimaginable for many of us. The mental strength and positive attitude they possess is more than enough to earn our sincere salute.

Will he be the next Superstar? I doubt so. But I still look forward to his performance because he glows brightly on stage, not as a Superstar, but as a Star of his own.

What happened to you? I did not read your blog.

“What happened to you? I did not read your blog.”

This sounds ridiculous, does it not?

The blogger says, “Why did you not read it?”

The reader retorts, “Why should I read it? Why did you not tell me about it yourself instead of just writing it in your blog?”

Some time ago, something happened to a friend of mine.

She decided to go overseas to pursue her education. She wrote about it all over her blog, giving details about where she was going to study, when she was going and how she was carrying out the preparations.

As far as I know, she did not tell her friends but only wrote it in her blog and “announced” her plans on the MSN nick she gave herself.

That was it.

I admit that I seldom surf her blog. Furthermore, being someone who does not chat online often, I did not know about this news until she left.

I was dumb founded when I found out. At first, I felt guilt stricken for not having read her blog regularly. But soon, another feeling overwhelmed me.

Am I expected to read her blog to find out how she is doing? Must I go online to chat before I know what happened to her? Why did she not tell me herself?

Either (1) she thinks her friends should read her blog to check out her life or (2) she does not care which of her friends know about the news, if they read her blog, they are her buddies and they should be informed, if they do not read, then she takes it that they are unimportant and do not have to know of it.

Yes, I do admit that it is my fault for not maintaining close contact with this friend of mine. But it certainly does say the same for her.

In the past, people would call their friends up to share news regarding themselves with others. Later, people turned to emails. Then to mass emails and icqing or msning. We have adjusted ourselves to all these changes and accepted them one and all. Now, blogs are the new players on the block.

But, I am holding up a “STOP” sign to the the idea of “announcing” your happenings only through the blog and nowhere else.

Blogs are just a passive tool we use to convey our thoughts and feelings. No doubt it is a convenient way to share about our life on the blogs and since it is put up on a public portal, no friends will be left out on the “news release”. However, precisely because it is a passive tool, everyone might read it, or no one would.

It is insensible to say to someone, “I wrote that in my blog, check it out there.”

Is it so hard to share with someone directly what happened to you, instead of writing it in your blog, and thinking that people should read it to find out what happened to you? If they do not, then it is their own business because they missed out on something?

We are talking about the sense of human touch here that had been and is still essential in the core of our lives.

Do not take for granted that your friends should read your blog. Take the initiative to share with them on what is going on in your life, either through the phone or direct emails, whichever is more convenient for you.

Not just on your blog, of course. Otherwise, do not blame your friends for being “uninformed”.

A Day Without Handphone

A handphone is just an accessory that gives us additional convenience in our everyday life. Before handphones crawled into our lives, we live just as we were. So I say, handphones are just “wants”, not “needs”.

It took me just one day to realise that I was so wrong.

Last Sunday, after I left the house for work and was about to enter the train station, I thought of sending a message via the handphone. I fumbled frantically in my bag for the familiar rectangular shape. It was not there!

Then it dawned on me. I had left the handphone on my table for recharging.

“Argh! Should I walk back home to take it? But I might be late for work. Forget it. Surely I can survive a day without a handphone!”

And so, that started my adventure for the day.

When I got to my workplace, I had to find out the contacts of A urgently through my friend B.

But B’s number is stored in my handphone. I have not cultivated the good habit of writing down phone numbers in traditional phone books. I am just too used to keying new numbers straight into the handphone.

(It seems like the last experiences of losing my phone, the first time being stolen and the second time dropping it in a lecture theatre, and the aftermath of having to collect phone numbers from everyone I know, have not made me learn my lesson well.)

When I finally found out B’s number, B did not answer my call! I had to drop her a message. But, without my handphone, how am I going to do that?

It took me almost the whole morning to make calls from the unsurprisingly few phone numbers I can recall off-hand, and finally I contacted A.

Whew!

The rest of the day was dramatically like the morning and I was constantly on tenter hooks. I was almost sent out alone to a rather rural place for an assignment. Without a handphone, how am I going to connect with the rest of the world? Either to contact someone, call a cab or to ask for help?

I felt really handicapped without my handphone. This came pretty much as a shock.

I am one who uses the phone strictly just for phone calls and messaging. I hardly use the phone to play games, take pictures or listen to the radio. My requirements are so basic. But, as I have realized, the basic requirements are what makes the handphone indispensable. I have gotten so used to having a phone that I only realized its importance when it is not around.

I think modern society has progressed to a stage of no return. In the past, we did not have to rely on modern gadgets. But at present, we can no longer say that, if we could do that in the past, we could do it today too. Simply because, we cannot do it anymore.

Whether we like it or not, we have become slaves to our handphones.

*Beep Beep*

Sorry folks, I need to excuse myself for the moment because my master is calling me, and yes, I will remember to bring her out every time I go out in future.

What happened to Father's Day?

Today is Father’s Day. Have you forgotten about it?

Not surprising though, considering the fact that Father's Day usually came and went by without many people noticing it.

What a stake difference it was when Mother's Day approached about a month ago.
Days and even weeks before Mother's Day arrived, the red carpet was already spread far and wide. We see advertisements on the papers on Mother’s Day special meals, most beautiful mother contests, greatest mother contests, gift and beauty discounts for mothers, bakeries selling those cute cakes with a mother’s face on it......

When it was Father's Day's turn, many people were caught by surprise.

"This Sunday is Father's Day? Oh, I didn’t know that."

It seems like the society is so biased, (and for once) biased against the men.

From young, we learn songs that sing praises for our mothers, but I can hardly recall any that is dedicated to fathers.

Fathers may be so busy with their work that they hardly asked how their children are doing in school or with work. For some fathers, they hardly have the time and energy to engage in even small talk with their children after a busy day of work. When they reach home, they just want to catch a rest and have a quiet moment to read the newspapers or watch the television.

Some fathers may not even know what the children are studying, what ECAs they are involved in school, who their best friends are, what their favourite food is, who their idols are, what their hobbies are etc.

Because most mothers are home makers (especially when their children are still young), many children "see" their mothers at work (at home) and realized how hard they work to manage a household. As a result, most people feel that mothers are very noble and feel more attached to them. On the other hand, most people do not know what exactly their fathers do at work, and usually men prefer keep their emotions to themselves.

Well, that does not make fathers less "noble" than mothers.
Young people (myself included) often like to say that, "My father don't understand me."

But did we try to let our fathers understand us, or did we try to understand our father? (The same goes for our mothers too.)

I am lucky that my father is a forthcoming and chatty man. That makes it so much easier to talk to him.

Although most people like to say that as long as you care for your father (mother), everyday is Father's (Mother's) Day. No doubt that is true, but I still think that this is a special day. Some people do not like to celebrate for no reason, and this day gives us the perfect reason to throw a party for the fathers.

We should still care and show concern for our fathers everyday, but on this special day, make the fathers feel like a king, for not just any reason, but because they are fathers. What better gifts can there be?

Happy Father’s Day.

Bespectacled = Ugly?

Sometime ago, I met a friend (A) and I asked her how another mutual friend of ours (B) was doing.

A said, “Do you know? Ever since B went to university, she started wearing contact lenses, and she became so pretty! Since then, there were a lot of guys who went after her.”

A then sighed and said, “But when B started working, she wore spectacles again. Can you imagine? I really don’t know she was thinking of!”

What A seemed to be saying is, when B wore contact lenses, she was a beauty, but when she resumed wearing spectacles, she was like a swan turned back into an ugly duckling.

A’s words rang hard in my ears.

It is not just because of the fact that I wear spectacles, but because this is not the first time I have heard people saying things along the same line.

Well, all girls love to love pretty, and if wearing contact lenses can make one look better, what is wrong with that?

Nothing, absolutely.

My question is, are girls pretty only when they do not wear spectacles?

My first and only pair of contact lenses was made after I finished junior college, for my prom night. That was the first time I wore contact lenses. I thought I looked pretty alright. But, I felt like I was looking at a different person in the mirror.

My eyes felt naked.

That was the problem with wearing spectacles for too long a time. You are so accustomed with having something shield your eyes that you find it hard to get used to not wearing glasses. After my prom, I still wore my contact lenses occasionally until it expired. And since then, I have not worn one again.

Reasons being that firstly, my eyes get tired easily when I wear contact lenses. My friends say it is because I am not used to it. Secondly, I once had a frightening experience when my contact lenses was caught in my eyes, and I was so scared that I could not get it out. Thirdly, I am worried that extensive use of the contact lenses would be harmful to the eyes, unless there is very proper cleaning and care for the lenses.

For many girls, when they progress to tertiary institutions, they start to wear contact lenses. When girls begin working, even more turn to contact lenses.

Why? Because girls look better with contact lenses?

“That’s not true!” I retorted to a friend recently.

My friend rebuked, “Show me a bespectacled girl who looks really stunning.”

I was dumb founded.

If we were to look for a female artiste, there is hardly any who wears spectacles and who looks really pretty. If we were to look in the streets, (I have to admit, though reluctantly) the ones who look really beautiful usually do not wear spectacles.

So, my friend was right?

I still begged to differ, and I shall continue to search for a good example.

Strangely though, I feel that I look better with glasses than without (Well, it could again be because I am not used to it). Perhaps that is also the reason why I think guys who wear spectacles look better than those without, in the way that they look more intellectual, gentle and good tempered.

If others share my view on this, does it mean that guys look good when they appear scholarly and learned, but scholarly-looking girls do not look pretty or crudely put, ugly?

I should never become rich and famous

I should never become rich and famous.

I am too much of a heartlander.

Let’s picture this.

Should I become rich and famous one day, I will not eat in a crowded hawker centre and jeopardize my image as a wealthy and distinguished lady, and certainly not at the risk of being caught by the paparazzi. I will go to a quiet French restaurant and enjoy the violin being played in the background. If I really crave for hawker food, I will send Maria to buy it for me. I will not go to the NTUC supermarket to buy groceries, and run the risk of having an auntie or uncle spot me queuing at the cashier with a pack of toilet rolls. If I really have to top up groceries, I will choose the Marketplace supermarket which is less crowded with budget shoppers and frequently patronized by expatriates. I will not take public transport and have people peer at me up and down, or have people pretend to sms but sneakily snapping my photo with their handphone. I will have a chauffeur drive me around the whole day. I will never allow myself to be caught shopping at neighbourhood stores, my shopping haunts should be high class boutiques in town.

So much for daydreaming. Whew! It was really a draining daydream!

There are so many things that I cannot do if I am rich and famous.

Can you imagine? Not being able to go to hawker centres for meals, not being able to wear a t-shirt, bermudas and slippers to the NTUC supermarket and carry big grocery bags home, and not being able to walk and shop at the neighbourhood stores and malls?

Frankly, who does not want to be rich and famous? To have all the money in the world to be spent at your whim and pleasure, and to have everyone know who you are and be everyone’s model and inspiration. Or simply to have people envy you, and say, “I wish I could be like him/her.”

I believe, no matter how humble a person is or how much a person does not like to be in the limelight or the centre of attention, there is always this tiny bubble of self-importance in you that make you yearn to become rich and famous. It could be a bursting bubble, or just a well concealed one, so well concealed that you do not even know it, and you will always proclaim, “I just want to be a normal person.”

But, being rich and famous is not easy.

I once saw this well known celebrity at a neighbourhood store near my house. She was holding up and scrutinizing a blouse at this store that is swarmed by uncles and aunties because there was a big sale going on. My friend said to me, “Look! It’s XXX! I didn’t know she comes here to buy clothes. I thought with her fame, she should be going to expensive boutiques!”

Rich and famous people are basically just like you and me. Why impose unnamed rules on where they should eat and shop? Does it not sound like they are in a living prison? (The irony is, sometimes they are the ones who impose the rules on themselves.)

Well, some people may feel that rich and famous people have both the wealth and the fame, so what does a little sacrifice mean to them Perhaps nothing. But, I guess sometimes the little daily sacrifices are the ones that people might appreciate most.

Just the other day, I was going to take the train to go for a badminton session. I wore a t-shirt and beach bermudas, and carried the racket in my hands. My mother’s jaw dropped when she saw me.

Mother: You are going to take the MRT in this?
Me: Hmm…yes, what’s wrong?
Mother: People will laugh at you!
Me: Aiyoh, nobody knows me lah!

We often marvel at millionaires or billionaires, celebrities whom everyone idolizes, but I guess the pressures and sacrifices of a rich and famous people are what I would probably never be able to handle. A rich and famous person’s hat is too big for me.

No doubt a little wealth and fame would not hurt, in fact it may also make some people happier. But, I think I will be contented with being just a heartlander.


(On a side note, could it be just sour grapes, because I am neither rich nor famous now?)

Never leave a woman alone in a......

……shopping mall! Especially one with danger signs—“SALE”, “30 % - 50 % OFF” and “DISCOUNTS” posters—lurking in every corner.

If you really have no choice but to leave her alone in a mall, take away all her cash. Better still, strip her of her cards, be it credit card, cash card, POSB card, Master card, Visa card or whatever card that may lead to a “disaster”.

By “disaster” I mean, buying on impulse and buying more than necessary. The temptations are simply too great to resist in a shopping mall, especially if one is alone in a mall.

“There is no one else around to chat with, so why not window shop? Oh, there is a sale going on here! This pretty skirt is at 50 % discount, such a good buy! I don’t really need a new skirt, but if I buy it, I will wear it. I think I should just get this!”

Well, girls out there, don’t whine and grumble that I am making an ill statement. We have all been there and done that, at one time or another.

For many girls, shopping is their favourite past time and what better way to cheer up a gloomy day than retail therapy?

Disregarding the money factor for the moment, no girls will really say that they have enough clothes. Even if they do think they have enough, they would hardly say no to a new blouse or pants or skirt, especially one that they look good in. For shoes, bags, accessories and clothes, one is never enough. That is an absolute statement for most girls.

I am not a shopaholic, in fact, I would not even label myself as a frequent shopper. But, when the shopping mood comes along, like many girls, nothing can stop in our way. Especially so if we have the money to spare at that moment, and of course, big sales give us all the more the perfect excuse to shop .

At times when the shopping mood hits home, everything I see and try looks good on me, and I feel like sweeping everything home! That’s when the red light starts blinking. Every time something like this happens, there will be a tussle inside me.

The rational voice in me will say, “You already have something similar to this top, don’t buy it.” The other voice will say, “What’s wrong with adding something new to your wardrobe? Anyway, you don’t get the chance to shop that often and sales do not come by all the time, buy it now or else you will regret it!”

But of course, it is seldom true that girls do not get to shop often, even if work is busy and tiring, girls can always find time to shop. “It is to distress and to kill time,” we often defend ourselves and make our spending more justified. Furthermore, it is hardly true that sales are rare. Sales seem to take place the whole year round. Pre New Year Sale, New Year Sale, Post New Year Sale, Pre Christmas Sale, Christmas Sale, Post Christmas Sale. You get the idea. It seems that malls will never run out of reasons to have sales. And which is why, girls will never run out of reasons to shop too.

Well, it is certainly not true that only girls like to shop, some guys enjoy shopping too. But I guess before most guys embark on a shopping trip, they would have in their minds what they want to get and they shop only to fulfill that particular goal. Whereas for girls, a seemingly “innocent” window shopping trip may well evolve unexpectedly into a fruitful one. And that also means ending up with a thicker wallet, not with money, but with shopping receipts.

I have noticed some guys who accompany their girlfriends on shopping trips before. While the girls enthusiastically try on clothes, tirelessly one after another, the guys stand around looking disinterested, or they would fidget and look as if they cannot wait to drag the girls out of the shop. When girls ask them for their opinion, they mostly just say, “it looks okay” or “not bad”, and then continue to look listless.

My question to the guys is, if it is such a dreary affair to accompany girls to shop, then why don’t you let them go shopping alone or with their girlfriends? Why insist on tagging alone and making yourself unhappy?

Now I know.

Perhaps they are aware of the dangers of leaving a woman alone in a shopping mall, and they are there to provide the physical resistance.

But if the ladies are spending their own money, why should the guys stand in their way?

A day being Superwoman

A few nights ago, something that my mother said made me feel quite ashamed of myself.

She said, “When I was your age, I was already doing most of the housework. My mother did not teach me much about doing household chores; I picked them up mostly by myself. How to cook, how to iron clothes, how to keep the house spick and span... If I wanted to go out and play, I would always finish up the housework first.”

It was a casual remark she made while we were chatting. Although I do help my mother do household chores, I have to admit that I do not help out on a regular daily basis.

My mother is like Superwoman. Ever since she married my father, she has been giving all that she has for the family, devoting all her time to be a good wife and mother. In the day, she is busy with work and when she comes back home, her work does not end. She whips up a good meal, and after dinner she keeps herself busy with endless household chores like washing and ironing clothes. It is then that she sits down to take a rest.

I often wondered where in the world my mother garnered the energy and motivation to do so much hard work in a day. It is after all not an easy task to manage a household, not to mention juggling work both outside and at home. I often marveled at how she could do so much, yet remain so positive and grumble so occasionally about the work load.

After hearing what my mother said, the next day, I decided to try my hands at being Superwoman for a day before I go out.

I woke up early and took a look at the laundry bucket.

“Wow, so many clothes to wash!”

I dumped all the clothes into the washing machine and when they are done, I hanged them up to dry.

“Washing clothes and hanging them to dry isn’t all that tough!”

Then, I moved on to take a look at the standing clothes hanger.

“Wow, so many clothes to iron!”

I can do most household chores, and in fact I enjoy some of them, in particular cooking. Washing the dishes and cleaning the cooking area is my forte, vacuuming the floor is easy and mopping the floor is alright too. But, if there is one household chore I can choose not to do, it would have to be ironing.

Ironing is such a difficult task. Firstly, it makes one hot and sweaty, and secondly, I can somehow never get the clothes pressed really smartly.

My mother has a special knack for buying clothes that can be easily ironed. Since all my father’s shirts are chosen by my mother, I reckoned that would be an easy start for me to launch my ironing mission. I was right! With just a little bit of ironing, the crease and folds on my father’s shirts are subdued and they fall neatly into place. For the first shirt that I ironed, I gave myself a rating of 80 points. The remaining 20 points was because I still could not really get the shoulders area smartly pressed.

Then the second, third, fourth, fifth……until the tenth shirt.

Amazing! I actually managed to iron ten shirts in a go. And yes, it took me quite sometime to progress that far. Nevertheless, I was still proud of myself, although my 80 points have deteriorated to a miserable 50 points for the tenth shirt. I shall spare the details for the rest of the household chores.

So much for my day being a Superwoman, but strictly speaking, I have only managed half a day.

I think my mother was a very good girl when she was young, in that she would do household chores before she went out. I mean, if at a sensible age, we do not help to ease some of our mother’s burdens, and only cared for our own enjoyment, it would not seem right. In fact, I have a low regard for such people.

I have seen people who spend all their time in school for their extra-curricular activities or work so hard in their jobs, and yet find it a bother to lift even a finger on household chores. Or even people who drift in and out of shopping malls and cinemas the whole day and complain they are bored because there is nothing to do. Now, I have a good suggestion for them, “Check the laundry basket.”

Housework may seem tough to do, but there can be enjoyment too. And the biggest satisfaction is the look on your mother’s face. If you do not believe, try being Superwoman or Superman for just a day, and you will see what I mean.

For me, I am on my learning journey to becoming a real Superwoman as great as my mother, for the many days that follow.

To know that we are old enough to ease some of our parents’ burdens, I think that is really growing up.

Still the same old me

Recently, I met up with some old friends. Having not seen most of them for at least a year, everyone seemed to have changed a lot.

Everyone, except me.

One friend even said to me, “You haven’t changed at all, you are still the same after so many years.”

Should I be happy about this? Or should I be sad?

If someone has changed a lot, it probably means that he has experienced a lot of things and advanced a lot in life. If after many years, one has not changed much, he would appear as if he is stagnated at the same spot.

How boring and unexciting.

Frankly, I do not really like the feeling of being “stagnant”. It somehow seems to mean that one has not progressed much. Well, I guess this has to do with the modern notion of relating progress with change. Of course, a person can certainly progress without having appeared to have changed. In fact, a lot of people are like that.

Changes can occur in a lot of different areas such as appearance, thinking and character wise, but changes to one’s appearance are always the most noticeable. To be able to “detect” that a person has changed in terms of thinking and character would require much more observation and conversation.

A friend commented that someone she knows is quite particular about the way people view her and she feels strongly against remaining the same old manner. If she were to meet up with friends she had not seen in a long time, she would do something to her outward appearance so that she would look changed, or at least create a sparkle in others’ eyes.

I guess I am more of the let-nature-takes-its-own-course kind of person and I am pretty much happy the way I am. In a nutshell, although I do not like to remain too stagnant, I do not want to make changes just for the sake of making changes. Changes, I feel, should take place naturally.

Everyone and everything in this world is probably impermanent. Every little bit of experience in life moulds a person and I guess everyone changes in some way or another over time, whether big changes or minute ones, over-the-night changes or gradual transformations. If you have not noticed any changes in a person, perhaps you need to "look" harder and show a bit more concern.

Would you rather the friends whom you have not seen in some time to have changed a lot or not at all?

Sometimes, I feel it is easier to talk to an old friend whom I have not seen in a while, who is still like the way he was when I last knew him. If he had changed a lot, it would probably be difficult to pick up where we had last left off, and it would sound as if we are chatting as familiar strangers.

Sometime ago, I posed the above question to a group of friends.

Quoting a friend’s response, “It does not really matter. If your friends have not changed, then so be it. If they have changed, it is alright too, as long as the change is for the better. ”

True enough.

If you have changed, try to embrace the change. If there are hardly any changes, learn to embrace the same old you for that. The same goes for your friends too.

I am 23, not 17

Personally, I do not think I have a babyface, but I am often mistaken to be younger than my actual age. Sometimes, much younger.

Just a few weeks ago, somebody thought I was just 17.

I think it has to do with me being what most people kindly and nicely termed as “vertically-challenged”, in other words, SHORT.

Being short generally makes me appear younger, regardless of the way I look (my face).

Don’t get it?

It is the same case for instance, we see a teenager who looks like she is a secondary school student, and then we look at her height coupled with her looks, we would probably exclaim, “So short, she must be in primary school, if not, at most secondary one.”

People tell me I should be happy that I look younger than my age. When I groan in response, they retort, “Do you want to look older then?”

No, of course not, nobody wants to look older, especially girls.

But, I guess when you are in your twenties and people still think you are a teen, perhaps it is not just the height problem (this is another interesting topic, but I will leave it for some other day), but also the way you dress and carry yourself. It does not help that teenage girls these days just cannot seem to wait to grow up and they dress as though they are adults. That somehow blurs the distinction further.

(It is funny, isn’t it? When we are young, we want to look like an adult and we try to dress like one. As we get older, we try means and ways to dress and look younger.)

I do not really mind being mistaken as being younger; sometimes I even glee in delight.

Looking younger is fine but definitely not kiddish. If you look like a kid, most people do not take you or what you do and say seriously. Worse of all, people question your maturity and doubt your capabilities. Not to mention appearing like an easy prey for people to push their weight around just because they think you are only a kid.

The biggest joke I can recall of being mistaken to be younger than my actual age, was when I was 19. One day, I was in school uniform and I was with my father when we met his friend. After he finished chatting with my father, he turned to me and asked me, “So, have you finished your PSLE?”

I almost died of embarrassment.

I guess people who have never been mistaken as being younger will never be able to understand the woes of it.

Not that there are no happy moments though.

For one, I seem to click better with young children and I love that! Perhaps the kids think I am more-or-less-about-the-same-as-them, and so they are more willing to regard me as a playmate.

Now at 23, I may prefer people to think that I am 23 and not younger. But, when I grow older, perhaps at 30, I will be hoping that people still think I am 23!

I have heard people saying that if you look younger than you actually are when you are young, it is likely that the process of aging will speed up as you grow older, and you will look older than you really are later on.

Sounds scary isn’t it? I sure hope this is just hearsay!

My boyfriend is type-B

My boyfriend is type-B, type-B meaning blood type B. And, I am type-A.

This is what spurred me to watch the currently screening Korean love comedy “My boyfriend is type-B”, starring Lee Dong-gun and Han Ji-hye.

Korean movie directors seem to be running out of creative juices. Out of ten Korean romance comedies, at least eight have the same kind of storyline.

A handsome guy and a sweet looking girl, who were initially at loggerheads, fell in love. After a while, their differences made them fall out with each other and they broke up. Nevertheless, they realized they still loved each other and so they got together again, and continued their funny squabbles, with a happily-ever-after ending.

Yawn. So predictable.

However, despite the humdrum plots and the forgettable storylines, I simply LOVE Korean romance comedies.

They are so funny! They may seem like slapstick, but it makes me happy watching them, and I can simply pull my head back and laugh out loud (these are the times when I am glad movies are screened in the dark).

“My boyfriend is type-B” is one good example.

In this movie, there are quite a number of humorous dialogues and a couple of unexpected funny scenes.

What is most interesting about this (otherwise typical laugh-it-out-loud-in-the-cinema-and-forget-what-you-were-laughing-at-after-you-leave-the-theatre-kind-of-love-comedy) movie is that it talks about how blood types play a part in a relationship.

In this movie, the male lead role is a blood type B guy, and the female lead role is a type A girl (just like in my case!). It is believed that type B guys are selfish, arrogant and insensitive, and they make the worst lovers. On the other hand, type A girls are naïve, shy and compromising.

Couples with these two blood types are said to be incompatible because of their vastly different characters. The movie hilariously revolves around how the girl did not believe in blood-type-compatibility initially until the guy gradually displayed the type B characteristics and she could no longer stand it. The couple broke up but they ended up together in the finale, with a slight twist.

The interesting thing is, can blood types really determine if people are compatible?

I think most people would laugh it off as a silly idea. Just like what the male lead role said, there are so many people in the world, how could they be simply categorized into four main groups by their blood types A, B, AB and O?

Nonetheless, people who believe that horoscopes and zodiac signs can help to see if two people are suited for each other would probably subscribe to the idea that blood types can do the trick too. After all, people with the same blood group do share certain similar character traits.

For me, I do not think blood-type compatibility really works, at least it doesn't seem true in my case.

I would recommend this movie because it has kept me well entertained with the wacky theory on blood-type-compatibility. But if you are looking forward to a multi-million dollar mega production with fabulous casts and state-of-the-art animation, this movie is not for you.

And in case you are interested, it is believed that people with blood type A are most well-matched with A and AB, type B is most suitable for B and AB, type AB is most compatible with A, B, O and AB, and type O gets along best with lovers of type AB and O.