JANUARY in General

Firstly, I am so ashamed of myself because I was supposed to be tending to this post the entire month but I’m sorry, contrary to my previous post of ‘I wish I could say I was busy’, turns out I really am. Remember how I once told you guys that I’m really forgetful? Welp, turns out I really am and I forgot most of my submission dates so I’d spent majority of my half month rushing them and helping out for my Chinese New Year celebrations.

Most intellectual tweet:
Food-Related Tweet of the Month:
Most Ridiculous Tweet of the Month:
Most Socially Awkward Tweet:
Rage Tweet of the Month:
Sassiest Tweet of the Month:
Most ‘Emo’ Tweet of the Month:
Tumblr Gif of the Month:

Emo Tumblr Quote/Gif of the Month:

Most Delicious Looking Tumblr Picture:

Instagram Photo of the Month:
Weirdest Whatsapp Photo Received:
Biggest Obsession of November:

Chinese New Year FAQS’14

Another year, another round of the same old questions. Your relatives ask if you’re dating anyone while your cousins ask and wait around for you to get married. It’s the same food, same houses and same shit (well except for the red packets) every year. Don’t you ever get tired of answering the same things over and over again? Especially when you’re like me, picky as hell and forever alone.

So here are my list of CNY FAQS! Honestly, I hope my answers change in time to come, if not, I’m not going to see cool and aloof but pathetic and alone.


Q: Do you have a boyfriend?
A: No.

Q: Do you want a boyfriend?
A: No.

Q: What happened to Sydney boy?
A: He died.

Q: So do you like anyone right now?
A: No / I may tell you about Bus stop boy if I like you enough.

Q: So right now you’re in what again?
A: Poly, Temasek. It’s in Tamppines.

Q: What are you studying?
A: Green Building and Sustainability

Q: And it’s a…?
A: Engineering.

Q: How is school?
A: Like that lor.

Q: When are you graduating?
A: Soon enough.

Q: So I hear you get cheaper concession now.
A: Yes, it’s great, thank you.

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
A: An Editor.

Q: Why can’t I touch your phone?
A: Porn.

Q: Wanna play cards?
A: The minimum bet is two bucks.

Q: What are you going to do with your life?
A: I don’t know but somewhere down the line the answer is 42.

Q: Have you eaten?
A: I am sitting at the dining table.

Q: Why are you making an FAQ?
A: Because people need to start asking me more creative questions.

What is your list of CNY FAQS? Make one and link me over in the comments section!

Cheers! I mean,

Huat ah!

What’s been happening, Cherie?

Hello friends,

Apologies for not writing for a while (like a week or something). I’d love to say I’ve been busy but the truth is that I haven’t been up to much, which explains why I haven’t been writing anything in here.

The weeks have been a blur. Chinese New Year is coming and my organizer is filling up fast for the week. I have to get my hair done, book appointment with teachers, collect my CNY day 2 outfit and in my rush for time, I managed to break all the nails I was saving to paint on Chinese New Year itself.

ONE MAJOR SCREW UP was my CNY day 2 outfit. I could fit everything from the skirt and to the cardigan but I can’t fit the top because my ribcage isn’t skinny enough. Or bony, for the matter. This means I’ll have to sell the entire outfit away because it’s a cosplay outfit and you can’t have a cosplay outfit in pieces. That’s just one more thing I have to do now. Another would be finding a new outfit within a week when the crowd of last minute shoppers are out in full force. I probably would give two shits about buying an outfit because…

FUNDS ARE RUNNING LOW. Dangerously low. I don’t know how I turned into such a spendthrift lately. Normally, even when I do spend on online credits, I had a minimum of a thousand in the bank but recently, it has dipped far beyond that number. Worrying. Very worrying. That’s the money I’m supposed to rely on when I decide to just disappear into thin air, you see.

ANOTHER IRRELEVANT DETAIL I should add would be my recent cutting spree -on my wrist- again. I wasn’t sad, looking for attention or anything, I felt like testing waters all of a sudden. As if I had to document whether it hurts more when you cry and cut or when you cut when curious. For the record, both feels the same. I do regret cutting, I really do. I had to wear a long sleeved shirt the next day to school where the weather proceeded to fry me like a fish while my friends chanced upon it when he thought he scratched we with a fork. I wish a fork could do this kind of damage.

I would rule this entire cutting incident as me trying to get myself to cry over something or anything. I’m just wound too tight these days and I don’t have an outlet for it. Pills don’t really get me sleepy enough to cancel things out anymore and doctor fees are too much for my father too handle, so I guess and 80cent blade would do the trick. In fact, it does a much better job. Still, no tears.

ON A LIGHTER NOTE, I think monsoon season is finally ending in Singapore so I can finally go for runs again! No more running like

Of course, things never seem to ever go my way because it’s still very chilly out. I have to jog for a good half hour before I get warmed up and sometimes runs are so frustrating because I barely manage to work up a sweat and end up going home looking like I went down to run errands -not go for a solid 2 hour workout.

TALK ABOUT CHILLY, my sister went to Hong Kong and bought me this thick fluffy parka complete with fur on the hood. I love it. It feels like a really nice, warm hug. I decided that because it is such a spectacular piece of clothing, I had to name it and now it is called ‘THE BOYFRIEND‘, because it gives me all the warm hugs I need. I don’t need a real life boyfriend anymore, basically.

In Porn news, I think I see so much of it on my dashboard that I can’t even be bothered to get turned on anymore. It kinda pathetic and sad, but reinforces my above mentioned point of ‘Who needs a boyfriend anyway?’. I’m thinking it kinda goes back and forth. Sometimes if naked anime doesn’t do it for you, go for hentai manga. Yaoi or Shoujo? You pick. Maybe a little bit of fanfiction? And if the fictional world doesn’t suffice, there is always Redtube. Not that I go there, I normally hang around Tumblr, where there’s all kinds of porn. I’m not going to be shy with you and say things like food porn. I’m talking about the actual ones like amateur porn, homemade porn, pornstar porn and whatever genre you may particularly fancy. Let’s not forget the porn that doesn’t move (pictures) and audio porn, that kinda got me for a while because it was really new and interesting to me. Now it’s just ‘Meh’ but it’s an actual thing and no harm trying. I mean, of course you have to be at least 18 before you can try all these nonsense, duh. Anyway, in all, I kind of can’t be bothered to function like a normal human being anymore. I’ve officially lost my drive, I’m sorry.

HEALTH WISE, I’ve been trying to sleep early and cut down on caffeine and sugar. Well, not today that is. Don’t look at the time and think I queued this post or woke up early to type this. I’ve actually been staring at this post for a good two hours. I haven’t slept and I’m trying not to because I’m at my friend’s house,he forgot to prepare a bed for me, I kinda forgot to bring a toothbrush and what better way to escape brushing your teeth but by not sleeping at all? I’ll make today an exception and make up for sleep by sleeping all the way through… later on today.

Besides my rather moronic self-contradiction, I’ve been able to hold my sleep schedule rather successfully during my school week even though I have afternoon classes 4 of 5 days a week. I started by setting alarms at 11.30pm to remind myself to sleep, then gradually changing the time to 11pm. It’s been working like a charm, except that one time I had an Insidious themed dream and couldn’t sleep till 2am when my friend finally called to recite string theory to me over the phone. I can’t count sheep, it makes my head hurt instead. I’m weird like that.

My battle against caffeine and sugar has been my hardest yet. Why? Because I’m addicted. I’ve drank alot of coffee the previous year -Hell, I worked a job that let me make my own damn coffee. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with tea (Green, red, black, chinese, peony) and though I lost my preference in too-fucking-sweet frappaccinos, I developed an intense love for caramel popcorn. It’s a good thing I still like the taste of water. Perhaps it’s the only healthy thing I like this year.

I’m so thankful I’ve a couple of close friends to watch over what I eat and when I sleep. They were the ones who put me up to it anyway. The next thing on their list of ‘Fix Cherie’ is to win me off the extra salt into my already salted fries. I can’t help it, I like my food extremely well seasoned.

ON MY FOOD CHANNEL, wow, when I said I’d stop baking in that ‘Fuck you’ post I wrote a while back, I never thought I’d actually follow it. You could say I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life somewhere last year. I haven’t baked anything since Christmas. My easy bake oven is probably rusting as I type this. I do have an idea of what I’d like to make next, but so far I haven’t had time to do so. Maybe in February, when I need to stress eat.

Oh yes, I’m trying to win myself off peanut butter too. It’s not exactly going well, especially since my neighbour gave me two jars of ‘all natural’ peanut butter because they had too much. I’ve already finished one, along with an entire loaf of bread. All in one morning.  Happy high blood cholesterol, Cherie. I also eat too much. I need help.

Why is peanut butter relevant? Because when I stress eat I eat peanut butter and my family thinks it’s bad for my complexion. Sigh.

And that is all for now. Turns out I have been busy this whole time, just doing very irrelevant things with my life that holds no significant meaning. No matter, I’m sure things will turn up when I wrap this semester up.

Off to watch YouTube and marathon Friends till said friend wakes up to work out or something.


I’m Singaporean by Citizenship

There’s actually a lot of truth in what she says. Of course, like most of the issues we debate on, there are two sides.

Many argue that other places in the world have it worst than us. You have to factor in cultural differences etc.

But let’s not forget that there are different people in the world as well. Some people want more from what they already have. Some people are contented, which I feel is the greatest blessing ever because if you’re anything like me and constantly have things on your list of wants that money can’t buy, you find that the being contented is well… magic. Contentment is folklore to me.

Oh, and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be that much of an idiot to perpetually land myself in some third world country, okay. Sure, I managed to get myself in engineering but by God, I’m not that stupid, give me some credit. I’M SINGAPOREAN WHAT. OI. So if you’re going to say something like ‘You should think about all the starving children in Africa.’, save it for some kid who doesn’t want to eat his vegetables because the last time I checked, I LOVE FOOD. Pig’s blood? Sure but oops banned in Singapore.

I kid, we don’t need racial riots in such a small island. Social studies, bitches.

Singapore is suffocating to me. That’s how I see it too. How many times I’ve tried answering open ended questions with paragraphs describing how I feel and what I think but get marked down or am never given the full marks because it ‘doesn’t contain keywords’. My form of art expressed in words is often suppressed. I don’t care if I suck, at least give me a chance to, right?

They say:

  • Don’t write about suicide.
  • Don’t write about pain.
  • Don’t write about blood, death and melancholy.

Write about happy things, Cherie. Use this formatted structure in your essays. Don’t write argumentative essays!

And then turn around and say:

Oh whoops, the work you turned in using the format is not good enough. Here’s a B-.

I can’t fuuuuuuuuucking win and God knows I’ve tried my hardest.

Oh and I LOVE being Singaporean, of course I do. I bask in it. People automatically think I’m a genius in math and science or straight up think I have an IQ of 160 or something.

You’re Singaporean? Wow very science. Much math. Such smarts. Very IQ. Wow. Biznus. Many education.

There is nothing quite like pretending you are something you’re not when really, I feel fracking stupid in my own country.

I would stay in Singapore if it gave me something I wanted. I’m serious. After all, my family is here. Everyone I love or hasn’t already migrated is here. Do you think it’s so easy for me to just drop everything and say ‘Fuck it, I’m leaving.’? Surely Cherie has a politically correct answer for it.

I do and it is so painfully simple.

Singapore can’t give me what I want.

So I’ll do what any normal mammal will do. Go somewhere else. What do birds do when the climate doesn’t suit them? They migrate to find what suits them; someplace livable. They don’t stay in one spot and wait for winter to fuck them over.

If PAP or Worker’s Party could give me a hair of what I want, I would gladly ‘ride with the lightning’ or whatever, if you know what I mean.

But the fact still remains that the Singapore government cannot give me what I want. I’m sure they would if they could but that would probably mean losing the support of everyone else. So what happens? I become the minority. I become the 1% or whatever category I may fall under. It’s only logical, I don’t blame them at all because put in their shoes, I would have done the same thing.

So let’s be open minded about this and just accept that yes, it is TRUE that not all people are happy in Singapore and our education system is so screwy that they produce buttons saying ‘I survived a Singapore education.’ Our car and housing prices are ridiculous as well, I dare you to say otherwise.

People aren’t happy in Singapore because we pay so much for an education to qualify for a desk job that pays about the same as minimum wage from other countries.

Do you think I’m happy? When I’m here and my friend is in Australia working as a manager in Mac-fucking-donalds for $23/hr? While I work my butt off in a cafe and am paid $6.50/hr. Do you think I’m fucking happy with that? There’s a reason why overseas students come here solely for our education system then get the fuck out, you know.

I ought to be looking down and laughing at her for working at Maccas for Pete’s sake, because over here in Singapore working at Maccas is something we joke about and leave to the aunties who have nothing to do with their time, most of the time. Instead, she has to sympathize with me.

‘There, there, Cherie. The transport costs and food prices are higher here.’

Yeah, that’s true. But if you truly did the math, the standard of living is much lower in comparison. I calculated because stereotypically and generally speaking, I’m supposed to be good at it.

You see, it’s not just me. We’re bitter, envious and angry. Sorry I had to compare, this is what being in the Singaporean rat race does to you.

Growing up in Singapore has taken it’s toll on me. I am twenty this year, am barely out of school yet I am already worrying over my future job and if I’ll ever be able to afford a decent house. Don’t even bother me about getting married because I can’t even forsee myself having a boyfriend over my panicked haze of trying to keep my family and self financially afloat in Singapore. No wonder we are an aging population, and I wonder how I still have a healthy head of black hair. Must be the good genes. Thanks dad, I knew you got my back.

And as readers of my blog, I guess you guys might as well know that one of the main reasons why I’m depressed is because of my future. Bleak and torturous. I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive here. If I have to pop pills just to zombify (if that’s even a word) myself -just so that the prospect of simply existing when I know that I am worth so much more doesn’t make me breakdown in tears- then I’d rather be dead. Singapore doesn’t need another low achiever.

So yes, if she’s going to be one of the lucky ones who manage to get out of Singapore, kudos to her. I’m sure she’s prepared for the good and bad. For the racism, danger and culture differences of the ‘outside world’. I am very happy for her because she has hope and she is still strong in will while I am already cynical and have pretty much accepted my fate in Singapore. I wish her all the best.

I am not a happy Singaporean. My family and friends know that. It’s hard to live in an environment when everything your parents talk and fight over is about money, when everything revolves about the dollar sign and you are compared in every way. How you look, what job you hold and which school you go to. Cherie why can’t you be skinnier than that tree? Why aren’t you working yet? When are you graduating? Why aren’t you doing well?

And the best one yet,

‘Do you know how much money I spend on you to give you all this?’

Gee, sorry I’m such a failed investment.

There is so little things to gossip and talk about that small things like boyfriends can be the talk of the Chinese New Year table. I mean, why should you give a fuck about who I dated, am dating or am not dating? Why can’t we talk about poetry or something other than ‘My daughter/son is better than yours in (insert comparison here)’?

Singapore doesn’t even sell Yaoi monthlies. Censorship laws? It’s already a blurred dick. What else do you want? You need to give a girl something to get by.

I am not proud to be Singaporean. That is true. But I never said I was ashamed of being one. I can be at a wedding but I may not be happy for the bride and groom. It is simple as that. I’m just not happy, I’m just not proud. The word ‘just’, the word people who do not understand love to overuse. But that’s besides the point.

There are responding videos that we, as the future generation should be grateful for our easy life. Food and clean water as and when we like.

So here with all sincerity, thank you, and I really mean it. People are probably going to nit pick and take this the wrong way, but I trust that everyone else has better things to do. Thank you for building the nation for me. For crying over the separation of Singapore from Malaysia. For clean water and lots of rice stored in secret warehouses if countries were to sever ties with us. Thank you for making me so wonderfully smart and educated so that I have better prospects beyond the boarder. Thank you for housing me.

But there is nothing I can offer you, Singapore. I do not have the interest in what will push you further. My art does not pave the way to a brighter you.

But I thank you for bringing me up anyway, that I was not switched at birth and that I didn’t get a fatal infection when my umbilical cord was cut. It is not that I have no use for you, it is that you have no use for me.

Where is my place?

A place where I may freely write and be paid enough to afford my own simple luxuries like a nice steak or an occasional glass of bubbly. Ah champagne, what can I celebrate of?

Can I write to feed my family? My father and mother who broke their backs and their mental state to build you? I am not as bad as you speak me be. I am filial and all I want to do is to give back to who had built me up. My family.

Singapore, it is not you who built me up to who I am but my parents who cried over and suffered for me.

I will leave you and when I come back I do not come back to you but to my family.

My family, who did not hand me a B- and tell me to ‘pull up my socks’ but hugged me and told me I tried my best. My family who stood by me when I was depressed over what you had thrown my way. When I was just a number contributing to a pie chart, they stood by me. When there was stigma over being depressed they defended me, from you.

I am grateful, not to you but to my parents, my sisters; my family.

You are land, Singapore, you are a body of people who do not know me. You are faceless, you are cold. You, who are discouraging and sometimes plain mean to me.

You have no need for me. You are not grateful for me. Somehow I am supposed to love you and be proud of you because you sheltered me. Because I was born on your territory, am I now your property?

My forefathers built you, not I. You are a joint effort. I am appreciative of my forefathers but their achievements are not mine to flaunt. It is not my honor. It is not something I can put into my resume.

I am not proud to be Singaporean because I do not know what being Singaporean is like. We are all just human beings on a piece of land that somehow ranks better amongst of a bunch of other lands. Is being Singaporean like being in a tribe? But a tribe is family and you are not.

I am sorry, Singapore, that I have disappointed you, you as a third parent to me (like I were to be a Valkyrie born of the Gods of a dying, warring woman to Valhalla), by not turning out to be of use to you. I will love you because you, like my family, were there when I took my first breath. But that is all I can offer you.


As always, anyone is welcome to challenge my point. Please do, anything to convince me otherwise. I’m going to be stuck in Singapore for a while anyway.

The Daily Dose


Okay, so I don’t take this much medication everyday. Most of the time it’s only vitamins that is supposed to keep my health in pristine condition but I seem to always be taking some form of medication with my vitamins so… I’m a weak and vulnerable girl.

My medical history is extensive and probably alarming to many. I’ve never been allowed to donate blood at any point of my life because my blood wasn’t ‘clean’, not that I have AIDS or anything, but you get my point.

It’s just that I’ve been sick for as long as I can remember, sadly. I started taking flu meds when I was secondary school (because in primary school I was busy breaking my bones and scrapping my knees). I could go through an entire slab (?) of pills in a week if I got it really bad. I always got it bad on Mondays and the symptoms would take a couple days to die off. I never went for a flu shot because I never seemed to get better so I ended up popping pills before the virus hit me in the morning. By the time I got to my graduating year (that’s four years of consistent self medication), my body had grown immune to the pill’s drowsy effect and could withstand weak flu viruses. I thought it was pretty cool because I could stand in a room full of sick human beings and still be strong as an ox. It felt like some extremely irrelevant superpower, but still a superpower.

The following year, I decided to undergo corrective surgery for my knee because it was crooked and was on pain meds for three months. When I went to school, I fell sick with fever often so I guess you guys know why I almost never get fevers nowadays.

In my third year of poly, I relapsed on my depression and had to officially be put on antidepressants for six months after which it was paced over the next half year to help me break away from it.

And now here I am, having flu again coupled with excessive bleeding. My body is indeed magnificent, majestic and marvellous, not to mention thoughly broken into the world of western medicine.

I’ve had days I had so much vitamins to swallow, I had to take them in batches. Small pills first or should I start with the oval ones? Is that a gell tablet? Do I have to eat it whole or dissolve the powder inside then drink it (those were the worst)? Before or after meals? How many times a day? Drowsy or non-drowsy? I shouldn’t be taking the bus if it’s drowsy, right?

Anyway, thanks for reading my little rant so here’s the low down on the above picture.

Two for flu, two for excessive blood loss, one to prevent flu (but isn’t helping at all) and one to help my overall well being, which obviously isn’t helping because I’m still falling sick and am still mean, grumpy and bitter. I’m also breaking out, God dammit. 

On the plus side, at least my hair looks fierce, and by fierce I mean how it’s supposed to look like when you blow dry your hair. 

Hope everyone has a great day ahead of them because I’m about to have a shit one.