In a matter of less than a week, I will turn 30. Gone will be my golden age of womanhood. Typically, I do not fuss over my own birthdays, i think (maybe I should ask The Husband what he thinks :P). However, given the numerical significance this year, the special date has been occupying my mind since the start of 2011. And as it happens, I realised that turning 30 has certain rites of passage to go through - at least for me.
Going for facial:
From my recollection, the last time I went for a facial was almost decade ago before my brother got married. And I had gone for it because my mom told me to do so. I was never a facial cum massage cum manicure/pedicure type of girl. I am what the old folks will call one with a prickly bum who can not sit/lie still and do nothing (nor doze off) for the whole of 1-2 hours while the professionals do whatever they have to do to me. Doing hair is an exception since I can still eat, read and fiddle with my mobile.
As the years of being twenty-something nears its end, I keep hearing those words of threat that my mom used to tell me in my head, "Don't take care now, when you get old, don't regret!". Therefore, two weeks ago, I went for a facial and was pronounced "relatively good skin with a forest of stubborn blackheads and very fidgety" by my Fancl beautician.
Modifying my fashion sense:
Actually, the cause of this modification has to do with turning 30 and becoming a mom. Transition is along the line of from Zara TRF to Zara woman, from Far East Plaza to Isetan, from dressing like a hippy undergraduate to a sensible mum (and NOT mum-sy, i hope!) and from straight sleek hair with blunt-cut bangs to soft curls. The last part was a flop. I come to dislike my new hairstyle and find myself enviously going through photos of the old version of me every now and then. So, it seems that straight hair with bangs will be back soon.
Recounting the days of being twenty-something:
I have been recounting the glorious days of being twenty-something, looking through the happy and sad moments, the significant events of the past decade. Interestingly, whenever I do so, the embarrassing 21st birthday celebration moment would pop up unwillingly. To cut the story short, I was plagued with itchy & swollen eyes when I was cutting my birthday cake, which resulted in an emergency trip to a 24-hour clinic with a diagnosis of allergy to aspirin. And I had to explain to all the concerned relatives and friends (who called later) the diagnosis and that reason I had down two aspirins was because I was having my period.
Counting down the days of being twenty-something:
This involves mopping around, a lot of sighing and constant reference to the calendar.
Last but not least, re-registration of NRIC:
This ritual involves all Singaporeans who (due to reasons such as losing their ICs, changing their names, underwent cosmetic surgery such that they look like a totally different person etc) had never re-register their National Registration Identity Card since our tender age of twelve. A couple of weeks ago, I received the notice in the mail from ICA. This has to be the only ritual that I have been looking forward to because it means that I can finally ditch the old NRIC where the 12-year-old me looked like a small-eyed goldfish with a high forehead and a pair of swollen lips, no thanks to the unskilled photographer from a photo studio near my old house.
Yesterday, I laboriously and carefully put on my make-up and proceed to take many of self-shots in front of a white blank wall while the furkid and daughter did their best to distract my important task at hand. After coming close to a hundred shots, I think I finally had a passable one.
So, now I just need to do the online application on ICA's website and I think I am done with all the rites and rituals. Welcome, the 30 year-old me!
P.S. I have come to be aware of what a vain pot I can be after reading through this post!
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