noellelynn writes

Over the last few months, I have definitely made some changes in my life – professionally and personally. I’ve decided to stop working for a while and freelance instead – which is basically the equivalent of retiring from the rat race and its accompanying gastric problems. Pro: I’ve saved a bunch of money from doctor visits and Gaviscon purchasing. Con: Not being able to score Xanax. With freelancing comes a steep learning curve of having to do everything on my own (management, timelines, quotations, invoicing and then designing, on top of that – which frankly, I haven’t done in a while) and of course, a sudden financial deficit and the need to be fiscally prudent. Freedom comes at a price – but then again, doesn’t everything?

Then, you have the personal changes – I went from serial dating to not-really dating and now, to practically-not-a-date. Simple reason: I am just not interested. Maybe it’s the guys I’m meeting, maybe it’s the places I’m going to – more likely, it’s my tired ass that ain’t in the mood. I’m tired of it all – the dinners, the “daterviews” (date interviews), and dead-ends.

With these recent decisions in my life, I’ve had a whole bunch of well-meaning people offer advice to me:

Get a man.
Get a job.
Get a man with a job.
Get a job with good money.
Get a good man.
Get a man with good money.
You need someone who challenges you.
You need someone who gives in to you.
You need someone who excites you.
You need a whirlwind lover.
You need to make a lover from a friend.

And to all that, I’ll use the words of John Lennon:

I’m ok.
I’m doing fine.
There’s no problem.
There’s no hurry.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_m8uoObnWQM&feature=related]

“People say I’m crazy, doing what I’m doing,
Well they give me all kinds of warnings, to save me from ruin,
When I say that I’m o.k., well they look at me kind of strange,
Surely you’re not happy now you no longer play the game,

People say I’m lazy, dreaming my life away,
Well they give me all kinds of advice, designed to enlighten me,
When I tell that I’m doing fine watching shadows on the wall,
Don’t you miss the big time boy, you’re no longer on the ball?

I’m just sitting here making the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.

People asking questions lost in confusion,
Well I tell them there’s no problem,
Only solutions,
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I’ve lost my mind,
I tell them there’s no hurry…
I’m just sitting here doing time,

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.”

So, I was out with a friend last weekend and I decided to ask her whether she would consider me a snob. The reason for me asking this question, is because over the years, my club behaviour, protocol and manners has somewhat… evolved. In my 20’s, I was so smoking hot that it gave the license to be quite a bitch to guys who would try to talk to me. In my mid-to-late-20’s, when I was mostly in relationships – it was flirty, keeping the boundaries and I learnt to be gracious and more approachable. When I most reluctantly turned 30, I was at a stage of my life that I didn’t quite expect – single (when all my peers were married and starting families) after being in a relationship for 4 years. Things had definitely changed since I was out there.

My first night out – some random guy came up to me and asked me if I cook and how old I was. I was so taken aback, I actually lost all knowledge of the fact that I’m witty and stared at him with my jaw dropped. I also had to adjust to being hit on by ridiculously younger men (then I went with that for a while, just for the fun of it) and finally re-integrated myself into the world of singledom and things have been pretty good since then. I would consider myself friendly (every chat-up is an opportunity to network) and as long as the guy isn’t a creep, I would generally engage in a conversation. I do not, however, suffer any grabbing hands or accept drinks all the time just because they are offered to me. I think that’s a pretty good policy.

So, anyway, when I asked my friend whether she thought I might be a snob, she pondered the question for a bit and finally replied with, “No… I think you’re a prude”.

Well, that’s definitely one I haven’t heard before.

Mind in frenzy, thoughts in a whirlwind – and it wasn’t just from the vodka. I would have never considered myself a prude but once again, I let myself think about the perception people might have of me. If 20-year-old-me met the person I am now, I’m pretty sure I’d call myself a prude too. I’m extremely particular and careful about the people I spend time with (not because I’m all that great a person) but because I think it’s good to spend time with people that truly add value to your life. I no longer go on dates for the sake of having a good dinner (yes, all girls do that) and frankly, if you can’t get me out of my pajamas and into a dress, why bother? I admit that I might have gotten into a slum of self-seclusion but I seem to have lost my will to strongly socialise. I’d like to think it goes in waves – or… shit, maybe I’m just getting old.

And when you thought my babies post was politically incorrect enough, here comes another one – my intolerance of foreigners in Singapore.

Yup, I’m going there.

Let’s set the scene properly first… place some boundaries, create a context.

I’m of mixed heritage – my father is Indian and my mother is Eurasian (which by Singaporean definition, means that she’s of European descent, in this instance, Portuguese). Ebony and Ivory made Cafe Au Lait. I am a third generation Singaporean and was educated in a convent school system. Which basically means my skirt was too short and all my friends were of different races and English is their first language. So, we all got along fine.

I like my foreigners like I like my shopping – sporadic and not in my neighbourhood. In recent times, however, there has been an influx of foreigners into Singapore. They have invaded and pervaded the heartlands (read: suburbs) and as a Singaporean, I can spot them from a mile away (usually from their very bad fashion) and I don’t like it. That’s right. I said it. I don’t like it.

When does tolerance get taken advantage of and when does intolerance become the norm?

Yes, yes, we all know that Singapore is an immigrant nation but that was eons ago and we’ve all learnt to play together. Socially binding a nation takes time, and time it took for us to reach to where we are. I am proud of my rigid nation, which disallows racial enclaves (due to race balloting for public housing) and bans the sale of chewing gum (goodbye to scraping gum off my shoe!). I believe in capital punishment (if you don’t like our laws, don’t come here with drugs lah!) and I strongly support not talking shit about my country, while you’re in it. If you don’t like Singapore, why stay here? Go home. Don’t stay here and whinge like a little white-man-burdened bitch about our strict laws, litigious government and boring country. If you write about the Singapore laws and then get sued for it – don’t you think you were a self-fufilling prophecy? Please go home to Britain and write about the flaws in your own country. There is no utopia and for as many flaws as you can point out in Singapore, I can do the same for your country. Shall we play that game?

Ok, I may have digressed a little.

My bias against foreigners, lacks bias. I don’t where you’re from  – just know your position. Play your position.

I lived for 3 years in Australia and I never enforced my “Asian-ness” on anyone. Instead, I worked amongst Australians and almost all of the friends that I made there were Australian. I did not clump up with other Singaporeans, while fervently slurping noodles. If you make the effort to move to another country, why the hell are you hanging out with the same damn people you get back home? Yet, this is happening here – the foreigners have set up exclusive communities here – only speak their own language and clique with their own people.

Excuse me, but you are in Singapore now… break that shit up.

Recognise that since you are physically in a different country, you should adjust your mental attitude and make an attempt to absorb that country’s culture. And this is across the board, whether you’re a rich white housewife living in Tanglin or a customer service specialist Pinoy living in Pasir Ris. Make an attempt. If you are going to be the exact same person and live the exact same life as you did in your mother country, go back! All this shows me is that you are a temporary guest with no real interest in my country. You are not willing to immerse yourself or change. You want a “better” life but you are not willing to sacrifice anything for it.

And for my dear government: take it easy on the influx, will you? I can barely fit on the train anymore.