I think I’ve had the same nightmare every time I’ve taken the CFA at about this time. This is the time where I’ve wrapped up all the study session readings and written down all my notes (although at 6-weeks prior, this is way earlier than I did in Level 1 and 2) but I’m totally NOT ready to take the exam because I need to do massive amounts of practice questions to get everything to sink in and I don’t understand everything that I’ve read and taken down notes for quite yet. I’m not feeling good about it at all…

So then I dreamt last night that I was supposed to take the exam already. And the whole dream (nightmare) was about me rushing around trying to get to the exam hall, but forgetting my pencils, calculator, etc and having to repeatedly go home for them and trying to catch a cab and bus and running everywhere. While knowing that I’m entirely not prepared for the exam. Although towards the end of the dream, I told myself “this can’t be true! this must be a dream!” and I woke up feeling totally exhausted. Which, I guess, is better than my real life experience last year going to the exam and then getting stuck in the elevator with 25 people for almost half an hour…and it’s NOT a dream. If my exam center is in the same place, I sure as hell will insist on using the stairs!

After watching Anthony Bourdains’ No Reservations in Singapore last night, I was imbued with mucho pride for my home country. Anthony seemed to just adore Singapore (listen to the closing statements he makes at the end of the show here). I was reminded how much I love and miss my country.

Then this morning, my brother sends me this link on the New York Times about our government’s latest attempt “to get its citizens to mate and multiply”. And I’m reminded yet again why I kinda don’t mind the distance between me and my home country…it’s like wanting to run away from an overprotective parent…you just want to go “I love you but please, let me be free!”

The courses are an extension of government matchmaking programs that try to address the twin challenges embodied in a falling birthrate: too few people are having babies, and too few of those who are belong to what Singapore considers the genetically desirable educated elite.
…Mr. Lee (Kuan Yew) himself acknowledged how silly some of this may seem.
“Never mind the hullabaloo in the press, all the foreign correspondents writing that a crackpot government is trying to interfere in people’s lives,” he said when he inaugurated the Social Development Unit. “If we continue to reproduce ourselves in this lopsided way, we will be unable to maintain our present standards.”
In other words, said Annie Chan, director of a matchmaking agency, “Our government wants smart ladies to meet smart guys to get smart children.”

The irony of it is that the government commenced a “Stop at 2″ policy in 1969 in fear of overpopulation. Now they want to reverse the “success” of that campaign. I understand that population control is very much part of many government’s policies, but I don’t think as many has been as blatantly selective (i.e. we only want smart people to breed, stupid people, the difference which we measure by educational qualifications, need not apply…is there any wonder why the “EQ in Singapore is appalling”, quoted in the NYT article? ) and Orwellian as mine.

I read on this site that

In 1984 the government acted to give preferential school admission to children whose mothers were university graduates, while offering grants of S$10,000 to less educated women who agreed to be sterilized after the birth of their second child.

Ugh. That leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. Just like how I learn my country has the highest per capita rate of execution by far, second to Saudi Arabia, which the majority of the population probably thinks is okay. I don’t know about you but I find it pretty appalling to judge a person’s worth by their educational qualifications. Cos I sure as hell know a lot of successful, wonderful, happy, loving, warm people who never graduated from college, as I have a LOT of cold, over-worked, unhappy, clueless people who have (I’m not proud to admit it but I sure did not think that way when I was growing up in Singapore…because I was so brainwashed to think that the only thing I had to do in life was to study and get my As, that people who didn’t were poor li’ll failures…I was SO wrong).

I shudder to think of an entire nation of nothing but Rafflesians. OMG….a nation of Rafflesians…nothing…but…Rafflesians….oh. my. god. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!*SHUDDER* UGH times a gazillion!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Unfortunately, my government doesn’t see it that way because there is only ONE way to live your life.

Well, this genetically desirable educated lady with her genetically desirable educated husband sure think it will be pretty unfortunate if their future probably genetically desirable educated children grow up in a society that prizes only the elite that it defines so narrowly and coldly.

From PostSecret

Re: this post and this post.

ok ok, I know I’ve had many many I (heart) NY posts…well mostly I (heart) Park Slope, because Park Slope and its vicinity neighborhoods (Fort Greene, Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens, etc etc) rule way more than Manhizzy.

Still, I have only very recently felt truly at home here. It took about a year really for me to feel this way. Home is always where the heart is, and no doubt, the friends I’ve made here are is essential to the feeling of “home-ness”. I feel part of a community now. I have my bi-weekly meditation sessions with a few Park Slope gals, yoga in the park will start soon, I have found my hairdresser, I have a yoga place I love, I have really lovely co-workers I actually enjoying hanging out with, I have friends that I meet up for a cook-out at least once a week, the guys in the cornerstore next door I wave hi to everyday…

But what made me feel really at home in NYC hit me only a few weeks ago. We were out in Manhattan somewhere and I turned to Pat and said “wow, I feel at home here”. And then I felt at home.

Now, I love San Francisco/Berkeley to bits and the probability of the Chansidines eventually drifting back there eventually is pretty high, but even when I was there, I never felt quite part of it because it was too hippie. As much as people in SF/Berkeley are truly open-minded people, there is an overwhelming sense of same-ness. Just try to be a Republican in SF and you’ll know know what I’m talking about. Or read about how the city council tried to ban the military draft. Most people I knew was somehow working for an internet/marketing company, or in some way connect to Silicon Valley. Most of my friends in SF/Berkeley were American-born white or Chinese (not even Asian as a variety).

And, this is probably blasphemy, but I never quite felt at home as an adult in Singapore. Although I’d count being an adult in the 2 years I lived in Singapore after Berkeley. There’s so much about Singapore I love, and there’s always a possibility of moving back there again, but there’s a general, again, same-ness in Singapore. Most people I knew either worked in finance, were lawyers, worked for the government or, to a lesser extent, in a marketing related job. And I was the girl that walked around with the tall white guy in the HDB flat and getting stared at all the time, I’m not joking. I felt like I was being watched all the time. Not that I care about other people’s judging, but it’s a little unnerving the staring. Obviously, most of my friends were Chinese Singaporean, Malay, and a few Indians and ang mohs.

Then I come to NYC. It’s just HUGE. So many people. So many different people. There are the hippies, the yuppies, the hipsters, the Wall Street bankers, the over-worked lawyers, the Muslims, the Jews, the Chinatown Chinese, the actors, the photographers, the models, the everything! When you are in a train, especially in Brooklyn, English is spoken half of the time. You hear Chinese, Cantonese, Hebrew, Spanish, Russian, Arabic. Off the top of my head, the friends that I hang out often with are a lawyer, a copy-editor/writer, a massage therapist/nutrition consultant, a bartender, an actor/actress/model, restaurant manager, banker, writer/director, photographer, graphic designer, professional chef. They are Chinese, Korean, Australian, Cuban, white, black, half-Arab half-Mexican, half-Italian half-Egyptian. The variety of people you meet is astounding, mind-boggling and so exciting. You got to be pretty crazy/extraordinarily beautiful/a celebrity (A-list) to get stared at here, because most of the time, New Yorkers wouldn’t care about you. There’s no prevailing type here, and yet you can always find a community of your type whenever you want. The opportunities are endless.

Some people like being with like, and feel comfortable with familiarity, and I totally get that. But some people are just hard-wired to crave for variety. As much as I hate midtown, the crowds, the constant noise, the rude people (thank GOD I live in Brooklyn!), there’s no place better than New York City baby! to get that variety (because it’s so huge, it has fantastic parks – Central Park and Prospect Park – when you wanna get away from it all). So until I visit the next rustic beach town in a third world country and wonder why I am not giving it all up for that, I gotta say, I LOVE NEW YORK!!

KKSC has been way more lovely than I expected! Honestly, it rules living alone for a while, after not having lived alone for a while, and not having to “check in”! Not that I don’t have an independent life outside of the husband, but when you live with someone, you naturally need/want to e.g. call and let the other person know if you have a change of plans. It’s a very subtle thing, but it’s truly lovely when you are by yourself just once in a while.

I was chatting with my girlfriend Teddi about this today and we both “admitted” to each other how much we actually enjoyed solo time when our husbands are away (her husband travels for work), temporarily. Almost like a naughty confession. But not really, cos there’s nothing naughty in it…we both know we pretty much have the best husbands EVER (yes, we are lucky and so are our husbands and we know it! tee hee). A lovely married life is pretty much the best thing in the world, because coming home to someone you love every night, and feeling excited about it always, is a blessing anyone should appreciate daily.

But every once in a while, when you know it’s just temporary, it’s SO fun being alone! I’d almost forgot how it feels like…that liberation of aloneness, not loneliness. There’s really nothing very different I’ve done when I’m living solo than when I’m with my husband…and it’s not anything you do different that creates that feeling. I wish I was more eloquent in my words to describe this feeling of complete independence. It’s almost like that initial feeling I had when I moved to Berkeley and lived by myself for the first time in my life…I never once felt homesick. Yes, I missed my family and friends, but I never got that rootless feeling that I knew some friends had when they were living alone for the first time. I felt almost like living by myself and being completely responsible for myself was just how my life was meant to be, a FINALLY! feeling, a natural state of being.

And shocker, I’ve written about this before back in 2003 (omghasitbeen5yrsalready???):

Of course I miss my family and friends in Singapore, who are missed all the more after spending time with someone else’s family and friends. But travelling alone is such a blast only because it settles the heart to no end knowing that there are people out there thinking of you at the same time and that you will see them soon. That makes solitude delicious and never lonely because you are assured that it will not be permanent. Therefore, I am very lucky.

Archer: “You like so much to be alone?”
Ellen: “Yes, as long as my friends keep me from feeling lonely.”
- ‘The Age of Innocence’ (Edith Wharton)

Whoohoo! It’s Earth Day! It’s the Pennsylvania democratic primary! It’s kellykelly’s birthday!!

I had such a great birthday weekend. Out for dinner and drinks with co-workers on Fri, rooftop BBQ at Mike/Vicki’s new condo on Sat day, out for drinks and dinner (I have found my happy limit…2 mimosas sipped slooowly through the night with lots and lots of water in between = happy tipsy kellykelly with no usual nasty feeling) with Liz & cousin, Prospect Park BBQ with co-birthday girl Ariana on Sunday (played croquet for the first time…who would have thunk…kellykelly is a fantastic croquet player! I totally rule!), and nice chill evening with Renee at home. Pix later. I love New York in the Spring!

Unfortunately, the events were all sans husband. He’s on spring break in Ireland with his mom and sister. It sucks that he isn’t here for my birthday week, but I’m glad he’s hanging out with the women in his life…note to yet-to-be-married people: when your guy has a great relationship with his mother and sister, chances are, he’s gonna be a great husband. But I got a great dose of quality girlfriend time and no Graciela snoring in my bed time…KKSC can rule!

So things have been getting busy at work this month. And I had to pick up from a weekend of not-studying for the CFA last night. Had to study till almost midnight. I crawled into bed feeling just a teeny-tiny bit sorry for myself for having to work so hard on the eve of my birthday and going to bed solo (which is silly cos I had so many great people celebrating with me over the weekend). Then, Zion comes jumping in bed with me and sits by my head purring madly till I slept. AWWW!!!

I hate to call on a favorite, but there’s something special about that cat. She’s probably the meanest cat (she ain’t called The Swiper for nothing) when other people/cats are around. And she’s definitely not the most affectionate cat around. She hates to be held ever, definitely not a lap cat. But because she is this way, it makes her affectionate moments all that more special. She has this uncanny way of coming up to me at special special moments (while I’m studying and feeling tired, or feeling sad and laying in bed (happened once; I don’t get sad and lay in bed often)…or laying solo at the stroke of midnight on my birthday) and nudge my forehead and give me her priceless purr. And I know I’m totally just making that up because it was a coincidence that she wanted to jump in bed with me on my birthday night and sit by my head, but I thought it was the best birthday gift regardless.

Happy birthday to me! I’m 27! GASP! How did I get here? Somehow, from age 21, my life just moved in fast-forward.

*added* Speaking of cats, I got this online birthday card from my sister in law, How Cats Celebrate Birthdays (don’t know if you can see the link). I thought it was hilarious, only cos it’s too true.

We live in Park Slope (because the ‘hood is on a gradual slope up to Prospect Park). But, our house slopes to the side as well! Isn’t that weird? If I’m sitting on a chair with wheels on, I’ll find myself very gradually sliding down to the side.

And I found out yesterday that it seems to happen to my bed as well! Although it could just be our futon mattress that’s sinking on one side.

Anyway, so for the past 16 months in Park Slope, we have been sleeping on our side of the bed, as married couples do. His is up against the wall and on the higher end of the “slope”. But, anytime I have woken up before him, he will always roll over to my side of the bed. When I asked him why, he just smiles and says “cos I like your smell”.

Last night, I decided to study in bed while he slept. I haven’t read in bed in a long time, mainly because I don’t have a sturdy backing behind me. He has the wall. So I backed myself up against the wall and he slept on my side. Because he was already so comfortable, I decided, well we’ll just switch sides this time.

Then I realized…his side was terribly uncomfortable! Maybe it was the “slope” or our sunk in futon mattress or a misaligned feather bed…but somehow, I found myself kinda sloping down while I slept. It’s hard to describe, and it’s very subtle, but pretty uncomfortable. Somehow my usual side of the bed lays nice and flat and incredibly comfortable.

So I woke him up and said “geez, your side is really uncomfortable! Did you know that?”. He just said “yah”. I tried to sleep but couldn’t cos of the odd sloping feeling. So, being the spoiled one I am, I just said “I can’t sleep! I need my side!” and he promptly moved without a word.

Then I realized this whole time, he’s been sleeping on the uncomfortable side of the bed and shifting to my comfortable side when he gets the chance but always letting me have the comfortable side without a peep of complaint!

Ok, this sounds like a silly story. But I just thought that was so sweet and I love and appreciate him everyday.

Time to buy a new mattress.

I’m thoroughly enjoying American Idol this year. After last year’s shitty line-up (Sanjaya, or as Perez calls him…Sangina, seems like such a bad dream right now…kinda like, did that really happen?), this year has been highly entertaining and dare I say, with more talent.

David Cook: He has moved to the top of my list. I couldn’t stand him at first, the faux-emo rocker with that silly lower lip patch (that lower lip pubes look is never attractive btw) and all the artifice of Daughtry. Ugh. Then he started to grow on me because I realized that silly look aside, this guy can really sing. Then he got that silly red streaks off his hair and slowly the pubes patch disappeared and he actually started to look okay. Then he did Chris Cornell’s version of Billie Jean which I adored (I adore Chris’ version and of course I LOVE the original). I didn’t like last week’s Innocent (sounded like he was snarling the song), but tonight’s Always Be My Baby was slamming. I thought he’d sounded a little off in the beginning but when I heard the audio version on rickey.org, he was actually spot on vocally. I’d read about his brother dying of cancer and how special arrangements were made to bring him to watch him live. Everytime the camera cut to the audience and showed this really sickly guy that I assume to be his ill brother, I felt like crying. Because he looked frighteningly like my uncle who passed away a couple of weeks ago from cancer (which I think is the same as what the Cook brother has) whom I didn’t get to see during his illness but whose photos my family kindly shared with me. It’s strange how otherwise very different looking people can wither to that similar shadow when death is near. No wonder Cook cried at the end of his song. I guess that’s why people love to listen to melodies…it strokes up feelings in a way nothing else can.

Ugh! That was sad to write.

The rest in no order of preference:

Jason Castro: them EYES, them DREADS!…a deadly combination for kellykelly. I don’t know about the singing talent part though…he sounds like he’s whispering and giggling all the time…but who cares? Eye candy! I don’t know how he’d ever make it as a recording artist though. And definitely not Broadway…no one whispers on Broadway. With those eyes, he’s a TV guy. Maybe he could do his own Disney show for kids singing about stars and rainbows.

Brooke White: she reminds me of an earth mother yoga instructors, so I do like her because of her sun-shining hippie-ness, but she really should stop playing the piano…she plays it like she hasn’t practised it enough and is on the verge of losing a key each time. Another TV personality. She could sing about stars and rainbows with Jason Castro.

Michael Johns: Oh Michael, Michael! Another eye candy. He verged on being really dull and boring though, but his It’s All Wrong But It’s Alright performance was lovely. He didn’t deserve to go so soon, but he wouldn’t have won anyway. Oh, and my mom says he’s got a big butt too, that’s why he lost. Go figure what my mom notices!

David Archuleta (or as my brother calls him, David Enchilada…haha): I don’t get him at all. Sure, he sounds alright, but I don’t get why the judges rave so madly about each of his performance. He doesn’t seem to have any kind of range (all ballads only) and sounds breathless most of the time (vocal paralysis, what?). Still, he’ll probably win on the back of the gazillion teenage girls dialing in…which is fine because American Idol winning songs have been so mawkishly awful anyway, perfect for him. He seems like a nice, wholesome lookin’ kid, primed for mind-numbing and completely irrational Hannah Montana-esque success on the Disney Channel. He’s the perfect next human sacrifice.

Carly Smithson: she seems like a lovely lady, but there’s something about her that just wants this too much. I actually thought her rendition of Blackbird was awesome. But other than that, she verges on shrieking a lot of times. She’d do great on Broadway though. It’s unfortunate that she chose to sing “Without You” last night. I kept thinking about “KEN LEEEEE” in Bulgarian Idol.

Syesha Mercado: forget about American Idol and get a role on Broadway. She’s too generically hot-black-chick-who-can-sing to be memorable, although I have to admit that her performances lately have been really vocally lovely. She’d be a great Mimi on Rent.

Kristy Lee Cook: why is she still here? Oh yah, cos middle America loves their pretty li’ll country girl.

It’s spring time in NYC again! Today was the first day of true warm-ish weather…it hit 70 today. We biked to Carroll Gardens, had brunch with a couple of friends then sat outside at a beer garden till evening. Oh how I love New York in the spring! The trees are starting to flower now and they look GORGEOUS! I do love the seasons! There’s always change around the corner.

This time last year too was when I started getting burnt out from all the CFA studying. Well, not so much burnt out but frustrated that I had to stay home and study while people were having fun in great weather. It’s a lot easier to have to study when the sun sets at 4pm, weather’s bitter cold and no one’s doing anything anyway. Misery loves company.

The good thing is that I’m 2 weeks ahead of my study schedule (which is a lot to be ahead to me in CFA study time). People say Level 3 is the easiest and has the least readings compared to Level 1 and 2, but I don’t see why. It’s not as mathematical for sure, and the material isn’t all that hard to comprehend, but the material is incredibly dense. Because there is a new essay portion in Level 3, I’m a little overwhelmed at how much detail I can’t seem to miss out. Sometimes, maths is a lot less worrying…at least if you got the formulas and steps memorized and you practice often and well, it’s almost a sure thing. I finished my Level 2 exam in half the time allocated and walked out pretty confident because it was very much math based…once you can do the calculations, it’s done. I’m less sure about Level 3 where it seems to be a bunch of qualitative stuff with multiple possible answers. The fact that last year was a shocker year for Level 3 with all time low of 50% isn’t very comforting either.

What’s comforting though is that this is the LAST one. That sounds so delicious. The FINAL exam. All the more incentive to get my ass in shape and just GET ‘ER DONE! I’m done with taking exams for a while after this. At least, taking exams and working full time at the same time.

Ugh.

P.S. I cut my hair yesterday (well someone else did it for me).
P.P.S. Apparently, my sunnies do not sit straight on my face. I never noticed till I took this picture. HILARIOUS! I look like a freakin’ nut case.

That long in front, short at back bob wasn’t working out for me. It grew out badly, IMO…once the front parts got long (too quickly), it just made my hair look flat and blah. So I went to another new guy, Renee’s recommendation, who really was lovely. I’ve gotten great reviews at work and comments about how I look like I’m 18 in this hair. Which is SO GREAT for someone that’s starting to feel nerved about moving from her mid-twenties to *gasp* late-twenties! I chopped it off way shorter than before…and I feel even more liberated. It’s addictive. What is it about cutting off hair that makes me so happy?

This guy, Yutaka, is the 3rd one I’ve tried in NYC. History (in Berkeley and Singapore) has shown than my 3rd hairdresser is the charm. So we’ll see. The shitty part about moving around so much is that you have to keep on finding that favorite hair stylists.

Oh and I LOVE that he vindicated my no-hairdryerness. Every time I tell people I don’t own a hair dryer, either hair stylists or guests in my house, they always look like they are in disbelief (”you don’t have a hairdryer?” “yes, that’s what I said”), and I wonder why. I just don’t get the point of hairdryers*. The physical phenomenon of condensation does it for me. Every time I have bought one, in Berkeley and in Singapore, I ended up using it twice because I got all inspired to do something with my hair after a salon trip…then I never bother to use it again. I told Yutaka upfront that I needed a style that is low maintenance because I don’t like products in my hair and I don’t own a hairdryer. He did a little gasp but moved on. At the end of the cut, as he was blow drying my hair, he told me he realized that I actually did not need a hairdryer after all because my hair looks the same with or without it…something about my hair being strong or straight, I can’t remember. But point is, I don’t need a hair dryer! Whoohoo! The expert has vindicated me!

Oh BTW, we don’t own an iron either, which just means we are slobs when it comes to dressing. So if you ever come visit the Chansidines, bring your own travel iron and hairdryer please.

*Disclaimer: I don’t get the point of using a hair dryer for my hair specifically, because looks the same regardless. That said, I understand that some of my friends NEED their hairdryers because of their curly hair. I have learned that it’s not uncommon for a woman to HAVE to style their hair for at least 20 minutes after every wash otherwise it just looks unspeakable. That sounds like a terrible pain in the neck to me. I used to wish for bigger, curlier hair (they just look more interesting IMO), but I’m increasingly thankful for my low maintenance hair…sure it’s boring cos it does nothing, but at least I can jump outta the shower and be ready to go in 5!