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Whoever is running this huge Broadway show we call Life has got a fantastic sense of humour.

Or, maybe I’m just a loser that way.

I was out partying with a friend (let’s call him “J”) a few weeks ago when he suddenly blurted out, “I heard that X (who’s a mutual friend) got it on with A (this girl that we sort of know)!”

“WHAT? How could he? Why?” I snapped back.

And so my friend said, “Why do you look so shocked?” To which I replied, “Cos I actually kinda fancied X ...?”

Well, at this point most of you are probably waiting for the part where my friend J would reveal his feelings for me, that as it had all turned out, I had liked the wrong guy and had been totally oblivious to the one who really fancied me.

Nope. J does not like me.

Instead, J said, “Well, X really liked you.”

OMG. This was getting better. “What?” I stuttered.

J then explained that I was X’s “first choice” and that he had only moved on to A because he thought I wasn’t interested in him.

“This is really stupid,” I told J. “How could X not tell I was keen on him?”

To cut the long story short, X was convinced I wasn’t interested and moved on to his next target, who was A. J told me that I needed to work on my flirting skills because he said no one could have told that I was keen on that guy.

It was a rude awakening. What is considered “good flirting skills”? I’ve never had anyone tell me that I could not flirt to save my life. Sure, I may not be an over-the-top flirt where I shamelessly toss my hair at every chance I get and, giggle and laugh at everything a man says, but I think I do make a decent attempt at looking interested in whatever smart things he’s got to say!

Honestly, I’m of the opinion that men will have to start recognising the more subtle forms of flirting such as …

1. Conversational flirting

When I meet a guy I’m interested in, I get into a conversation with him. I mean … why else would I be wasting my time trying to understand what is it that you do for a living and whether you love your job or not?

2. Intellectual engagement

I used to think guys appreciated girls who have something intelligent to say about soccer, gadgets, the stock market, politics … until someone told me that I should just pretend to be interested in only shopping. What the …? If I bothered killing brain cells to tell you why Man U is still THE soccer team to support, I think it’s worth noting that this means I. Like. You. Duh!

3. Electronic contact

People meet new people every day. It’s not all the time we add all these new people to our list of Facebook friends. If I’ve only met you today and exchanged like three sentences with you, and then I added you on Facebook, what does it say? It means I want to keep in touch! Why do I want to keep in touch? Because I fancied that ratty t-shirt you were wearing? It’s because I’m sort of hoping that you might want to ask me out for coffee without me having to make that first move!

So dear X, I’m sorry to hear that you thought I didn’t fancy you. I mean, what did I have to do to make my interest more obvious? Give you the key to my apartment? Put my hand on your lap and lean suggestively towards you with that come-hither look in my eyes? Sorry, I guess we weren’t meant to be then.  

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A number of factors come into play when we look at a person’s body.

1. Weight – the number on the scale, how heavy you are when someone carries you

2. Proportions – how each part of your body looks in relation to the other parts, like if you’ve got womanly hips, it just doesn’t make sense for you to have sticks for legs

3. Muscle mass versus fat level – this will determine how flabby or tone you look

4. Dress size – two women who wear size 10 could have very different bodies

Most girls are obsessed about weight. They stand on a scale and lament why they are not 45kg. I don’t know from where this magic number originated but it seems that many girls in Singapore think they have to be 45kg in order to be “not fat”.

I do have weight-angst but I know unless I lose all my limbs, I’m probably never going to be light enough to be 45kg. The best I can hope for is 58kg, and for most girls, this could mean the end of the world.

I have come to terms with the fact that I’m not one of those lithe, long, lean, model-esque type with legs up my jaws. So I’ve chosen to work on overall body tone and proportions instead.

After five years of trying to get my body back in shape, I decided to give personal training a shot in May and to date, I’ve lost 5kg! Wooot! And here’s what I’ve found out:

1. Muscles are a must

Most girls think that as long as they keep doing cardio, the weight would stay off. Wrong! According to my personal trainer, muscles are the ones behind your metabolic rate. Cardio exercises may get the heart pumping, but your body burns calories only while you’re at it. However, if you increase your body’s lean muscle mass, you up your resting metabolism, which means you burn more calories even if you’re just sitting at your desk updating your blog. Don’t believe for one more second that pumping iron is going to make you look like Arnie Schwarzenegger’s long-lost twin sister. The longer you go on fearing those machines, the more sluggish your metabolism grows.

2. Don’t starve yourself

After every personal training session, my trainer would ask if I was going to have dinner. My usual answer would be to wrinkle up my nose and say, “What? It’s already past 8pm. Why would you want me to eat?” Turns out that skipping meals isn’t going to help me trim down any faster. Food fuels your metabolism and not eating properly kicks off a vicious cycle. Suppressing your appetite (whether by will or by pills) means depriving your body of fuel. Once your body runs low on energy, your metabolism plunges and this impacts its ability to burn calories. And when you finally decide to refuel your body, your now much lower metabolic rate doesn’t burn off the excess calories as efficiently and these calories then get stored as fat twice as quickly.

3. Dress size is a more accurate gauge

I told my trainer one day, “I’ve put on 500g!” Then he asked, “But do your clothes feel looser?” I paused and thought for a while. Actually, he had a point. Despite the weight gain (or rather muscle gain, so he said), my clothes were really hanging off my body. Group Ad Director Sue has been on my case about this black dress I have. She says it doesn’t fit me as well as it used too and, from the back, it looks as if I’m wearing something a size too big. It’s cause for celebration, I guess, until my new Asos dresses arrived and they were also too big. This however shows that the number you see on the weighing machine is not the best indicator of your overall body image – how your clothes fit on you is sometimes better.

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Are you an astro-addict? I am.

But, I’m planning to quit this addiction. I’ve come to the sad, but necessary, conclusion that astrology is a waste of my time and a drain on my emotional energies. The website that I visit monthly for my astro-fix is www.astrologyzone.com. For those of you who are totally into the whole astrology business, you’d know this is the website of the famous astrologer, Susan Miller.

I wasn’t always into astrology. My fixation with it started only two years ago. My life was going through a tumultuous time and I needed something (or someone) to tell me that everything was still going to be OK. Out of curiosity, I surfed to Susan Miller’s website – it was a site my friends frequently talked about.

A line in my reading that month went something like this:

On this day [she had stated the date in an earlier sentence], you’ll wake up and decide you have to leave the relationship.

It was true. Since I only read it after I broke up with my ex, it wasn’t a self-fulfilling prophecy either. I guess that was the point you could say I was sold. That was the defining moment that turned the sceptic into a believer.

And that was when I started the habit of logging on to Astrologyzone on the first of each month for my horoscope reading.

In the two years I’ve been a Susan Miller fan, there’ve been hits as well as misses. Last August, one line in my reading went:

A female boss who hired and protected you will be leaving the company.

It came true. And then the following month:

The property market is a difficult one but this month, you’ll finally find a place.

Spot on.

But the misses were just as spectacular. Since May 2007, I’ve read on numerous occasions how Venus (my ruling planet) would be dancing with an assortment of planets and how that actually meant great news on the love-front. Well, more than two years later, Venus has made more than her fair share of rounds in the galactic disco-hall and I’m still waiting for “my strong, silent partner” to show up.

And now, I’ve decided to quit Susan Miller because my August reading is so off, I might actually have done better going about my life this month blind as a bat! [OK, I know some of you are going to say, “But living your life according to an astrology reading is like asking a blind guy to lead another blind guy!” This is a debate for another day, OK?]

First:

Venus, your guardian planet and ruler, will move through your travel house from August 1-26, so it appears that you will be able to travel, and there's a good chance that your love life could benefit, too.

Didn’t happen. Venus, you suck as a guardian planet, you know that?

Then:

When you interview for your top new job …

Maybe it’s cos I love my current job too much to take note of the opportunities around me. No such offers came up. Seriously, am I not good enough to be Boss of The Universe?!?

And the deal-breaker:

Finding that your cash flow will improve is always good news!

OMG. Was she reading the wrong stars or something? Where is my sugar-daddy? Where is the $1 million inheritance that I’m suppose to receive from my long-lost great-great-granduncle?

You know what they say about baseball, right? Three strikes and …

I’m sorry Susan, this is not working out. Either it’s cos someone’s got my birthdate mixed up or the stars were seriously messed up at the time of my birth. I’m not expecting you to fix my life but don’t raise my hopes up like this. It’s cruel, it’s disappointing and now, I’ve to find a more reliable way to predict how my September's going to shape up.

Growl.

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A friend popped over to my place last weekend to spend an afternoon chilling out at the pool. After an afternoon of swimming in the water and soaking up the sun, we headed back to the apartment to wash up cos we were going to meet other pals for dinner. As the host, it was only right to let my guest use the shower first so I decided to play a few rounds of Guitar Hero while my friend washed up.

When she came out, she had the most judging look on her face. Oh no, I thought, another person was about to give me grief about taking out the bathtub. "Tell me, Debs," she said, "for a person who thinks bathtime is a routine rather than a ritual, why on earth do you have so many shower gels, shampoos, scrubs and lotions?"

"Well," I chipped back defensively, "it wasn't as if I went out and bought them. These stuff were work!"

Thank god my friend wasn't the argumentative sort. Plus, after I passed her a bottle of her favourite perfume, I could tell she was starting to appreciate the perks of my job.

But yes ... admission time.

If it wasn't for the fact that people preferred their friends cleaned up and smelling like a bouquet of fresh flowers, I would step into the shower like only once a week. The fact that I shower at least once a day (yes, I understand a lot of people out there think two is the minimum) is a social necessity, a part of me trying to fit in. There are still days, I feel like a vampire trying to hide her fangs so that she'd have friends.

Yet, despite the fact that I find nothing appealing about stepping into a cascading body of hot water, I love bath and body products. No kidding. At any one time, I have on duty four shower gels, three shampoos, two scrubs and two body lotions. I may hate bathing but I adore variety.

Some of my favourite ingredients in a bath product include ginger, grapefruit, honey, tea tree, oats and milk. That I could tolerate bathtime this much is probably due to the yummy products that I've stumbled upon in my line of work. My newest favourites are:

1. Sephora Bath in Chocolate Toffee

Open up the bottle and take a sniff. I swear you'd be just as tempted as I was to squeeze this sinfully sweet concoction onto a toast and eat it like it was Nutella! Pour a general dose of this bubble bath into a tub of steamy water and soon your entire bathroom would smell like your favourite bakery. Oh, and have I mentioned how a guy would smell like a freshly baked chocolate eclair after he suds up in this potion too?

Wonderland quotient: 8/10

2. Kiehl's Creme de Corps

Cocoa butter, sesame oil, avocado oil, apricot kernel oil, olive fruit oil ... this lotion is bursting with nourishing goodness and it works miracles on areas like elbows and knees where skin tends to get a bit flaky and dry. If you worship four-inch heels like I do, then massage your feet with this lotion just before you hit the sack. Wear a sock over each foot if you're worried about staining your sheets. Its label says you'll see a difference in 10 days. You don't even have to wait that long.

Wonderland quotient: 8.5/10

3. Burt's Bees Naturally Nourishing Milk & Honey Body Lotion

If you feed your body a glass of milk in the morning, you can feed your skin this every am. Sleeping in an air-conditioned room can give your skin a dull appearance after a while. Did you notice how your calves look as if they were covered in scales when you were strapping on your shoes? Now that's why you need to slather your body with a lotion that not only moisturises but nourishes and repairs your skin. Now if only someone would make me breakfast that's just as delicious ...

Wonderland quotient: 6.5/10

4. Burt's Bees Extra Energizing Citrus & Ginger Root Hand Soap

As far as washing and soaping go, our hands are the most abused. This hand soap is sodium laureth sulfate free so you can wash away without worrying about harsh chemicals damaging your delicate skin. Its citrus oils and ginger root extract smell great on your hands and, trust me, every time you catch a whiff of this uplifting scent, you'll find a smile slowly creeping up on your face.

Wonderland quotient: 7/10

5. The Body Shop Aloe Lip Treatment

My use of this product is a bit unorthodox. You see, my skin scars very easily whenever it gets bitten by mosquitoes. That I have this nasty habit of picking at my scabs and blisters does not help. To soften up my scabs, I massage this balm into them. It helps soothe the itching too. The aloe vera in this product also helps my skin heal better.

Wonderland quotient: 6/10

6. Babies Only Baby Cakes

Manuka honey has anti-bacterial and healing properties. These soaps not only contain organic manuka honey, they also have oatmeal, milk proteins, olive and chamomile oils. It suds up and covers your skin in a milky liquid that feels nourishing and indulgent. You'll love the way your skin feels and smells after using this soap. My theory has always been that if it's good enough for a baby, it's good enough for adults. For times when I feel a little nostalgic or feel like I want to be pampered like a tot, I use this ultra-gentle soap.

Wonderland quotient: 7.5/10

7. Ettusais Medicated Acne Body Whitening Mist

Doesn't feel very luxurious on the skin, has a slight medicated smell but very much a necessity for those who scar very easily. Created mainly for those with back acne, this refreshing body mist contains AC Control Oil, which is made from soybeans. I don't use it for body acne as much as a post-sun skin pick-me-up. After a day spent in the sun, skin can feel a little parched and this treats, whitens and cools in one convenient spritz.

Wonderland quotient: 5.5/10

8. Kiehl's Creme de Corps Soy Milk & Honey Body Polish

Scrubbing can feel harsh on your skin sometimes so it definitely helps when your scrub comes packed with skin-loving ingredients like shea butter, sweet almond oil, honey and soymilk proteins. For one complete body pampering session, follow this scrub with Kiehl's Creme de Corps and watch as your sheets practically slide off you.

Wonderland quotient: 7/10

9. Burt's Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Creme

I don't like to use hand cream because I don't like having to deal with a grease covered keyboard. But dry cuticles are a pain to deal with and they make your hands look old. So I massage this into my fingernails and cuticles before bed each night and pray my hands stay line-free ... until I find the perfect hand cream, of course.

Wonderland quotient: 5/10 

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There’s this quiz that you can create on Facebook and then send out to your friends. This quiz is supposed to show you how well your friends know you.

So the narcissist in me created such a quiz. So far, no one has scored above 50 percent. As such, I think it’s fair to assume that my friends are not exactly true friends and they just hang out with me so I won’t write nasty things about them on my blog.

One of the most contentious (at least in Kamei’s opinion) questions in my quiz is: when meeting a guy for the first time, what about him am I attracted to first?

The options are: (a) His height (b) His physique (c) His looks (d) His wallet.

Like Kamei, most of my friends chose (b), which is the wrong answer. The correct answer is actually (a) – his height. But Kamei cried foul and said, “You’re lying to yourself! It’s not true. You have a built-in body-radar in that shallow head of yours. Even if the guy’s all covered up, you can always tell if he has a good body! And once you’ve established that, then you’d give him a second look!”

I told her it’s not true and how I’m always more attracted to men who are at least 1.8m tall. She continued to protest. ‘NOOO! So you would go out with Fat Bastard? He’s about 1.8m tall too! To you ‘tall’ and ‘man’ are given. This means you won’t consider dating anyone who is (1) not a man (2) not a tall man. The tall man’s physique, however, is the thing that makes or breaks the deal.”

OK. So that woman was right again. And I guess this brings everybody’s score up by another paltry 10.3 percent. Maybe’s not such a good idea for me to blog, in general, about the type of men women notice. But, what the hell … so guys, read on.

Hey, good-looking!  

Movie-star good looks is one thing. Not giving (or looking like you do) a damn about your movie-star good looks is another. As much as magazines and TV shows talk about male grooming, women are still attracted to a man whose looks have that slight bit of roughness and gruffness. Honestly, I don’t think any woman would say, “Oh, his skin looks freshly exfoliated. Isn’t that hot!” You may, for all we know, spend hours in front of the mirror putting together that roguishly handsome face. But we don’t need to know that and we certainly don’t want you to walk into the bar looking like you just had a marathon session in front of the mirror.

Who you with?  

Word of the street is that women hate it when their men hang out with their buddies. Well, that’s not true. At least not completely true. The thing that makes some men more attractive than others is the ability to be one of the guys while still behaving like he’s totally into his woman. He’s talking to his pals about soccer at the bar counter but his hand is placed protectively on the small of her back. His body language says, “I’m popular with my friends” and it also says, “But I’m crazy about you.” It sounds like a tall order but if you were able to function on two different levels within the same social setting, we wouldn't have minded your pals and their thunderous burps all that much. 

Sorry?  

Lots of relationship self-help books tell women to ask their dates questions and leave the man talk about himself. Apparently, it makes him feel like we are interested and therefore would make him more inclined to ask us out again. Guys, we women want to talk about ourselves too and it’s not just answering “What shoes are you crazy about right now?” And when we are talking about ourselves, we want your attention. Drifting off and then snapping back with a “Sorry? Can you say that again?” is a definite no-no. Just as you’re attracted to women who are interested in what you have to say, so are we in men who give us their undivided attention.

Yes, yes, I’m here 

Guys, if you have that nasty habit of swaggering into a club, hi-fiving the bouncers and going, “Hey! There’s my man!” Get out of here, NOW. The man that we are attracted to is the one who walks into a room not expecting everyone to drop everything they’re doing to attend to him. Think of it like how it is at home – everything just happens naturally. He fits in but people still notice him. He gets what he wants but it’s not like they have to go out of their way to do things for him. He knows everyone knows he’s there and he is attractive to us because that’s just how things work.               

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Sue, CLEO’s Group Ad Director, has become a regular beer buddy to Kamei and I. Sometimes, we’d scoot off without Kamei and go have a beer on our own. We only hope Kamei doesn’t get jealous of the “illicit affair” Sue and I are conducting on the side.

Anyway, just the other day, Sue and I were talking about my attitudes towards dating and relationships. She concluded that I love myself way too much and that I’m destined to be alone until I learn to accommodate another person in my life.

Of course I raised my violent objections. In my “humble” opinion, if CLEO ever ran a 50 Most Eligible Bachelorettes event, I’d be the frontrunner!

But Sue isn’t the only friend who’s questioned my “rules” when it comes to matters of the heart. OK, I shan’t defend myself further. You be the judge and tell me.

Deb’s Love Rules

1. I don’t believe in obsessing about the future

I could never understand when someone tells me, “I broke up with him because I can’t see myself converting to his religion if we ever got married.”

To me, seeing someone is about going out, chilling out and doing stuff together. If you happened to fall in love and started seeing each other seriously, I’d say just bask in the lovey-dovey feeling and worry about marriage-issues when the time comes.

I get immensely irritated when friends tell me they have reservations about a guy they are seeing because they are worried about things like having to leave the country, having to have a long-distance relationship, having to convert to his religion etc. I think it’s OK to work out these kinks when they appear. If they can’t be resolved, then move on. There’s no need to sacrifice dating a person you like because of a future you don’t know will happen for sure.  

2. I don’t buy the whole “I can’t live without you” thing

“How do I live without you?” is a line that belongs only in sappy love songs.

To me, a couple should be able to function as two individuals. Yes, you are in a relationship and you need to spend time with each other. But being in a relationship does not mean being joined at the hips.

I think it’s really scary if you ever thought you can’t live without someone. It’s like volunteering to be held hostage! Why should your life be so tightly entwined with another person’s? I believe everyone (man or woman) should always be emotionally prepared to deal with hurt and heartbreak. Yes, you may feel sad when he leaves you, but you should never feel as if it’s the end of your world.

3. Cut your losses, always

Friends have told me that I go about my love life as if I’m closing a business deal – too much head, too little heart. But why should this be wrong?

To many people out there, getting hurt seems like a necessary evil you have to live with if you want love. My sister told me once, “It’s better to have love and lost, than to have never loved before.” I don’t know why love has to be tragic to be good.

This isn’t about mind-games, about cheating bastards and about pre-empting disappointments before they hit you. This is about YOU making sure you always know what you are gaining and losing from being in a relationship with a man.

You don’t have to win all the time. But how much are you willing to lose before you call it quits? I’ve seen many people topping up their love stores with excuses. I don’t think it’s healthy to make excuses for another person’s bad behaviour just so you can take comfort in the illusion that he will change. Don’t like the idea of living with what you are seeing right now? Give yourself a fair chance, move on. You only have one life and you don’t want to spend a large part of it trying to recoup your losses.

4. Love is not the opportunity. YOU are the opportunity

Too many times, women say they need a chance at finding true love. A lot us seem to think that we need to be given the opportunity, we need to find the right moment, be at the right place at the right time so we can find the right person.

I’d rather think I’m the opportunity a guy cannot afford to miss. Women make an insane amount of effort to make themselves attractive to a man. They also spend an insane amount of time wondering why no man seems attracted to them. Why do that when it’s men who need to realise that every woman they allow pass them is an opportunity lost?

Losers are blind to opportunities. Fools don’t know a good one when they see it. Men lament the ones they missed.

And sad is the man who couldn’t see you, didn’t know how good you were and then regretted having lost you.

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Kamei (she who is going to the gym on a regular basis after 10 years of inactivity) is going to try her hands at a sport that’s not only challenging but semi life-threatening. I’ve “sold” her to the Singapore Paddle Club (SPC) and she will be training in outrigger canoeing for three months. Provided she doesn’t perish during this project, Kamei will be competing in Hong Kong with the club in November.  

Oh, did I ever mention that Kamei can’t swim and has recurring dreams of drowning to death?  

Like what an evil boss would totally do, just in case Kamei does not make it back alive to write the story, I’ve sent CLEO’s new web editor Cheryl to train with the SPC too. I told our contact at the SPC that he should train both girls cos we just want to make sure the story gets written one way or another.  

A few days ago, a friend offered to train someone up for a triathlon. I thought of features editor Serene. Then I remembered that she can’t really swim. Then I remembered that the running part isn’t going to be much of a challenge for Slim (my nickname for Serene) – that girl’s so light-footed, she outruns most people even without training.   

Maybe I should send Denise, CLEO’s new editorial assistant. She can’t possibly say no. I’m her boss. She’s new. It’d be career suicide to rain on your boss’ parade, no? [evil smile] 

So I told Slim I’m sending her to boxing school and she’d have to go do a Fight Club thing. She said no cos she didn’t fancy the idea of coming into close bodily contact with a sweaty person. I think we just found the perfect sport for her.  

Finally, the question got thrown back to me – what am I going to try?  

Man, I don’t know. Running, I’m doing. Water-related stuff? I’m not afraid of water so it’s not going to make a good story. Sports that require physical contact? I think I might end up getting charged for assault and second-degree murder. I could train in a ball sport like tennis, or soccer, except that the mag would probably end up with lots of pictures of me running after the ball and none of me in action.  

Maybe a quiet sport like tai-chi? I can already hear Slim and Kamei accusing me of taking the easy way out! If only they knew how tough it is for someone like me to be all zen and calm. But I think those two won’t be satisfied until I scream my guts out or break a limb or two.  

Whatever. But here’s what I look for in a sport: 

(1) There must be someone to defeat. This means it must be a sport that has an overall winner. None of those “everyone’s a winner” philosophy. (2) It should preferably be an individual sport. I’ve tried touch rugby and field hockey in university. Don’t like team sports. (3) It shouldn’t have too many rules like which lines I can’t cross; if the ball goes that way it’s a foul; I have to move back 6m if my opponent touches me, etc.  

The last rule is the most important. I suck at remembering rules – it caused my touch rugby coach serious grief. I think he’d always remember me as the Team Retard. Needless to say, I only played when it was quite certain my team would win the game.

So, bearing all these restrictions in mind, what sport would you recommend I try?  

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It's Friday night and I'm at home on a self-imposed house-arrest.

Those of you who've read the June issue of CLEO (Singapore) would know that Kamei, Cynthia and I are on a challenge set by California Fitness to bring down our Body Age. We've been each assigned a personal trainer and, for 16 sessions, these dudes basically torture the living daylights out of us in the hope that we would become leaner, meaner and healthier individuals.  

For the always-skinny Cyn, her main objective is to put on "good" (muscles) weight. She's under strict orders to eat at least five meals a day, and to eat before and after personal training. 

For KC (Kamei's initials), her job is to start developing the habit of working out more regularly. Having not exercised for more than 10 years, it was hard to get her heart and lungs pumping again. Although hard, it wasn't arduous. I'm actually very proud of that girl! Since we embarked on this challenge, KC's been going to the gym at least three times a week. The girl's so motivated, she even visits the gym on days when she doesn't have personal training!

For me ... poor me ... I have a lot of work that needs done. Firstly, I have to bring down my overall Body Fat Percentage. Don't ask me for exact figures (I'm not that BRAVE!) ... but I have to lose something like 9kg of fat. Either I lose it or I replace it with muscles. It's really not fair. I run at least twice a week ... why is it that so much of me is still made up of fat?!?

Secondly, I have to improve my arm strength because, according to the Body Age machine, it sucks big-time. If you work out at California Fitness and you see a girl shaking from trying to lift 2kg dumbbells, that's ME! Every time my trainer passes me the dumbbells, I can almost hear my biceps crying in pain. I think this is God's way of saying, "This girl is not meant to have kids. She'd drop the baby the moment she lifts the child"!

But you know what? I can live with the twice-weekly one-hour torture sessions. I actually quite enjoy personal training cos otherwise, I'd never go near the machines. I'm just too self-conscious to go stand next to one and spend five minutes trying to figure out the correct way to use it.

What is killing me? The fact that I have to stay away from alcohol. Actually, Kamei, my Happy Hour partner-in-crime, has to stay away from alcohol too. But the gangster in her thinks the workouts should work around her lifestyle, not the other way round. I agree with her absolutely except that, unlike her, I am about 50kg overweight!

I have to cut down on my drinking if I were to see any results from this challenge. On any given day, Kamei and I probably drink enough to make a guy feel embarrassed about his underperforming liver. And what's the most effective way to avoid alcohol? Avoid parties! And that is why I'm at home on a Friday night blogging! And for the second time today! I'm so bored I'm reading my old Time magazines again!  

I hope this show of discipline is going to help. I came home today at 7.30pm and proceeded to clock half hour on my step machine. Tomorrow, I shall go run for 45 minutes before showing up at Central for The CLEO Treasure Hunt. Like I said, if I don't look anything like Megan Fox (OK, I don't have to be skinny. I just want to look toned and fit ... like Ali Larter) by Session 16, Eric my trainer will have hell to pay.

Somebody, give me some vodka NOW!!!!!

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My life – I don’t know if I have gotten more than what I had bargained for.

Some people drive for like forever and never quite gotten a dent in their bumper. I’ve been driving for two and a half years and the number of stupid accidents I’ve been in is just amazing.

Yes, I got into an accident yesterday. But it’s not so much the accident that is making me so mad at myself. It’s the fact that I had just repaired my car from another accident! Last October, I got into a traffic incident with a taxi and, according to the archaic diagrams and rules provided by my insurance people, it was 100 percent my fault. I’m too tired to go into the details but it took something like six months to settle the driver’s claims.

After the episode had closed, I thought I could breathe a sigh of relief. But no, my car had to drive over some stray rock on Sentosa Gateway and a tyre got punctured. So I thought I might as well send my car in for a total overhaul – repair the damages from the cab incident, replace that punctured tyre and carry out some general servicing.

I got my car back as good as new and what happened next? I bumped into a ramp in the carpark and my back passenger door got dented. And two weeks later, which was yesterday, I scratched the entire left side – front to back – of my car against another car. This time, it was my fault. I was too distracted, had too much on my mind and was too impatient. Now, I can only hope the repair costs would not make too big a dent in my bank account.

Traffic dramas aren’t the only dramas in my life. Some friends call me a drama queen but that’s only because my life just wouldn’t go on quietly without incident. Take this story with this guy (let’s call him Z).

Z has asked me to do coffee twice. Twice I’ve agreed to meet him and told him to let me know when and where. Twice, Z had kept me waiting for his confirmation for more than three days. The first time, Z messaged me on Facebook asking me if I’d be free to do coffee on the day itself (of course the answer had to be a No. I mean, I do have a healthy social calendar!). The second time, I told Z I’m free to do coffee this Thursday and Friday, and I’m still waiting for Z to tell me if we’d be seeing each other!

The thing that baffles me is that I’ve never made Z feel obliged about doing coffee. Yes, there were brief exchanges online and sometimes we’d jest about how we still hadn’t met up for coffee. But why would someone ask you out for coffee only to stay silent when it comes to confirming a time and place to meet after you’ve said OK? I’m bamboozled!

And drawing it all back to my topic today – can someone tell me where they’ve hidden the nice, non-mind-game-playing men? Can someone show me the way to a man who will just spare me the game-playing and understand that I have no time for this “when to say Yes, when to say No and when to play hard to get” game? It’s just coffee! Why the need to be this hard to read?

So yes, my Thursday is officially packed to the gills – I’ve got four meetings and possibly a very long-drawn phonecall with my workshop about the cost of repairing the car of my “victim”. And this leaves us with Friday. As Kamei said after I told her about Z’s “weird” behaviour, “It’s just rude to ask someone out on a Friday and think she’d be able to make it. Either he thinks you have no life or he’s trying to see if you would clear your schedule just to meet him for a latte.”

I don’t know. If Z messages me tomorrow and if I really am able to meet up with him, I’m tempted to just go, meet him and just get it out of the way. There’s so much happening in my life right now, I really have no time to stay this fixated on one random guy that I don’t even know very well.      

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You know how people always go, “I like her. She’s real”, “She’s not fake, she’s great”? Well, if everyone wants a taste of what the real you is, then be prepared for a rude awakening: they can’t handle the real you. 

At the end of the day, everyone just wants to go to bed with the impression that you are madly, crazy and deeply in love with them. To such people, the “real you” is the one who always has nice things to say, who seems to understand what they want … the “real you” is someone who doesn’t speak her mind but says what people want to hear. To them, the “real you” should have a vulnerable side, a side that makes you look more “human”.  

And just what is the “real me”? 

A guy friend once commented how I have a “fortress” around me, that I have built this wall that basically keeps people out so they will never get to see the softer side of me. He said that guys find that a turn-off, that they will never be attracted to someone with such a hardened facade.

I told him then that’s too bad because the “real me” is the one with this impenetrable fortress. For as long as I can remember, I’ve got this wall erected around the very core of my personality. If I were to drop it just so men would find me a bit more attractive, that would be “fake”- i.e. not “real”.

See what I’m driving at now? If the “real you” proves too hard a candy to chew, people will say it’s unacceptable. And if you go out on a limb to shed an aspect of your true self so people will like you better, it contradicts the whole “I like her. She’s real” argument, doesn’t it?

I’ve been called a lot of things when it comes to the way I deal with people – from friends to dates, from bosses to clients. People have said I’m not “schmoozy” enough, that I’m too “inflexible” and that I don’t bother with putting on a front even when the situation calls for it.

I don’t like it when people suggest I drop my “fortress” so they can get to know me better – hey, this fortress is hardy, strong and sturdy, learn to like it and it could protect you too. I don’t like it when people say I’m not letting them see my “real” (read: soft, vulnerable, not-so-businesslike) side when IT IS THE REAL DEAL they are looking at. Why do I have to fall apart, cry and go all soft just so you’d think you’re seeing the real Deborah? Why can’t you just accept that the real Debs is just this no-nonsense, un-schmoozy person who believes in letting her work and personality speak for herself rather than her 2.55s and smorgasbord of personal problems?

At the end of the day, friendships are built on a foundation of trust, reliance and honesty. If you are going to be swayed by the pretty bags, the beautiful façade and the “expensive” accent, then you are not my cup of tea either.       

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Lynette, CLEO Malaysia’s editor-in-chief, must think I’m a nutcase. 

I was flipping through a copy of the April issue of CLEO Malaysia when I discovered that its Eligible Bachelors Finals Party was going to happen on my birthday! 

Wasting absolutely no time, and not caring about maintaining a professional image, I sent my ever-patient counterpart this email:

Babe! Your Bachelors party is on my birthday!!! Can I come?!?!?!? If I do, would you give me a Bachelor as a birthday present?!?!?!?! Hehehe!!  

I think Lynette must have heard about the drought in my love-life from our CEO and so she very coolly replied:

Yes. Come! I heard you like Paul Birmingham and Henry Golding so I shall introduce the both of them to you.  

And since we were both due to meet up to discuss our newest baby – askCLEO – we decided to do our meeting the day before the party so I could spend my birthday in KL. 

I had an absolute blast! I guess it helped that, for once, I was not in the hotseat. While Lynette was spending the entire Friday afternoon trying to get her show organised, I was blissfully seated on a stool making small talk with the hosts. It was the first time in my seven years of doing Bachelors that I was able to appreciate the antics boys are capable of. 

As with Singapore’s CLEO Bachelors Party, the queue outside Zouk KL was phenomenal! It wasn’t hard to predict that Lynette’s party was going to be a huge success! 

When the party started, the boys went all out to make an impression (now this is something the CLEO Bachelors in Singapore need to learn)! They weren’t content to just be one of the many Bachelors that night. They wanted to be remembered. Each of them jazzed up his own uniform of Bachelors t-shirt and jeans with their own accessories. One even wore a trenchcoat … although the final effect was not quite Keanu Reeves in The Matrix, but good try nonetheless. 

The Bachelors were, like Singapore’s batch, extremely sporting. They sang, danced and teased like seasoned professionals. Despite the fact that the Bachelors weren’t able to do a striptease (censorship regulations) dance as the finale, the boys did a great job at eliciting a lot of screams from the audience. I mean, seriously, I didn’t think anyone could make a sexy dance out of The Ting Tings' That’s Not My Name, but the seven boys who did the dance finale totally changed my perception of the song. 

Henry Golding was crowned CLEO Malaysia’s Most Eligible Bachelor – if you want to know what a winning smile really looks like, check out my picture with him below! And as promised, Lynette introduced Henry and Paul to me right after the party (thanks Lynette! I shall return the favour when you come for my party next year!) – much to our CEO Julie’s “displeasure”.  

Earlier on I had spent a good ten minutes excitedly pointing out to Julie which of Lynette’s Bachelors were my favourites. And she took her "revenge" by going around telling clients how her Singaporean editor was actually a 16-year-old groupie in disguise. But I could tell she was suitably impressed (at least that’s what I’d like to think) when I went back to the VIP lounge telling her I got Paul’s namecard and had told Henry to call me if he happens to come to Singapore for a visit!

Overall, it was a truly eye-opening experience. It was the first time I saw a CLEO Bachelors party being done in a different way and it provided Lynette and I a great chance to bond over our experience working on CLEO’s signature event. Perhaps our super-cool CEO would now like to send the both of us over to Bangkok for CLEO Thailand’s Bachelors party? *wink*  

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I want to cut my hair.

As in, chop the whole damn thing short.

Honestly, I'm sick of this bob (actually it looks more like a mop now). Today, I attended a hair event and the presenter singled me out as someone who blowdries her hair religiously every day (it's times like this I remind myself to be more careful about what I say in the mag). The presenter's point was to demonstrate how it is actually more beneficial for your hair to be blown dry than air-dried and that she knew for a fact that I'm someone who appreciates the power of a hairdryer. Not that I minded being pointed out for a beauty-do, but I couldn't help but wondered if my hair was slowly taking over my identity.

For a very short second, the neurotic me had an Ally McBeal moment. I pictured myself sitting in my chair, amongst all the journalists at the event, and my hair was slowly consuming me, swallowing me and taking over my entire self.

I also grew very conscious of how my hair looked at that moment. There she was using me as an example to illustrate how blowdrying (using the correct methods) can actually reduce frizziness, and I was gripped by the fear that my hair was shrivelling into one wiry, frizzy, crazy-looking mess!

I want to cut my hair and I want to get a crop. I want a crop with jagged ends, with a slice of fringe lying dramatically across my forehead. I want to have spikes at the top - not like a row of spikes, more like a couple jutting out like insolent schoolchildren who refuse to sit down when told to by their teacher.

I want to keep my hair black but I want piecey highlights placed strategically at places that will help impart movement and energy to the style.

I wonder if any stylists would be brave enough to give me a cut like that ...

As much as I'd like to experiment with a new hairstyle, I still have a couple of reservations. For one, will my new haircut fit in with my wardrobe? Would I have to revamp my wardrobe to suit the hair? And what of my makeup? Would I have to wear more of it to tell people that I'm a girl and not a guy?

Even with these material issues sorted, there is still one physical issue I need to get my head around - my insanely square face. Now a chin-length bob like what you see in my profile picture is by far the most flattering cut for me. It wraps my face without lying flat against it, it's got some volume at the top to lengthen my face a little and give an illusion of a slightly sharper chin. In short, this cut is the one that's been proven to make me look like I don't have a TV head and a huge face.

I've tried boyish crops before. Besides the insane amount of time you need to spend on maintaining the cut, there's also this problem of my masculine features becoming even more prominent. I've been mistaken for a butch, or for a guy (once an auntie in McDonald's called me "boy" despite the fact I was wearing a school uniform with skirt!).

It's not that I'm hung up about the length of my hair! Believe me, if I could carry off a crop like beauty ed Cynthia, I would cut my hair immediately. But I just fear that I do not possess the pixie-ish features and the girly demeanour needed to balance the masculinity of a dramatically cut crop.

But I am so sick of my hair!

Let's see how the rest of the week goes. Based on personal history, I believe the only way I'd ever go get my hair chopped is if something stresses me out so badly I need to give my senses a shock.

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