Quixotism

Teenage dreams

2011-11-10T06:39:00.000+08:00

am excited about katy perry's new mtv that comes out tomorrow. tonmorrow's goinbg to be a good day.

Work Lectures - On structure and deadlines

2011-10-29T14:39:00.003+08:00

Someone once said that it's no point having a good structure in place if you don't have the right people. But make no mistake, good planning and structure is critical to the smooth functioning of an organisation. This means a few things.

First, set realistic expectations for yourself so that your targets are achieved. While workload may be heavy, the key thing is to find ways to minimise them by setting realistic targets. For instance, if you know you have x, y and z to get done this week, make sure you do x by say Tuesday so that you don't compromise y and z. Pushing back deadlines on x will risk doing so. It's quite simple. If you know that you must do z, y and z, there are no two ways about it. You can't say you didn't have time to plan once you have come to the realisation that you must do all.

But realistic expectations work both ways. If the workload is heavy, then everyone has a role to play, to chip and try to help one another. If someone offers and you know this will help, take it. If you see someone with a heavier workload than yours, offer to help.

Second, plan. I cannot underscore the importance of planning out your tasks and processes more, especially when one requires another to be completed first. If you know that you must do x so that after x is done, x feeds into y, then do x early. Even if this means that Z is also urgent, but you know that Z and y have to be completed by end of week, clearly, x takes priority then.

Third, ensure that you give agencies, bosses, subordinates enough time for reaction. Prime them early on what follow-ups or inputs they need to look at. Don't expect anyone to stay in front of the computer waiting for your email to come in if you haven't primed them. In the same vein, don't expect inputs to come in one day. You probably can't meet that sort of deadline if imposed on you, and really, it's not professionally polite.

I dreamt a dream in time gone by

2011-07-19T21:32:00.001+08:00

one man cannot serve two masters. and this doesnt just apply to priests or so i have recently leant.

women are extremely territorial and that is why one man cannot have more than one woman without risking backlash.

i thought i caught a flash from the past while on the cab tonight. i must be tired.

i am trying to be good. i need to focus be laert and concentrate. gabriel was so right. but it is still very straight forward. it just isnt easy.

and it isnt abt styles. it's abt what the styles convey. and if u don bother still, then it also proves then tt your style just reflects tt you never cared to begin with.

2011-07-18T22:12:00.002+08:00

my can driver thinks he is initial d. i think he almost killed a motorcyclist. not even joking.

random thought of the day - i am not a cat person. more of a dog person i think. but yesterday, i saw these two giant french lop bunnies and immediately knew i was a giant rabbit person.

i feel bad not knowing liverpool was in town.

ah crap i forgot to pay my phone bill again.

what is in a name?

2011-07-12T20:27:00.003+08:00

alot of things on my mind these couple of weeks. what does it mean, being 27 this year. where am i and was this where i thought i would be ten years ago?

honestly, maybe yes - i am the office person i thought i would be. a friend from hong kong once said to me that she felt fortubate to know me as a friend. we were going to go home after school was done. but everyone else was staying on in canada, migrating or moving to the states. she said we were going to go back and change our countries, remake policies in our image, build and give back.

what does it take to be a leader? i think it takes courage, never say die, never showing fear, caring for your soldiers. leading by example and being a friend. having the right instincts.

unwavering.

i dont know, we'll see.

oops my cab has reached home now.

Two sides of the same coin

2011-06-20T09:33:00.002+08:00

I am not sure one can separate the life they have at work and the person they are, as a citizen of Singapore, as a daughter or sister or friend or girlfriend. Even though people can be very careful about what they write online, or what they say.

But I care about many domestic issues as a citizen. These policy decisions impact me as an individual. And I have my views and opinions. But I understand that it is difficult for someone else other than myself to see that my views are solely my own and they may not be representative of my organisation. So fine, I respect that line and I don't intend to blur it.

I guess all I am saying is that we are our own persons, even when we are at work. We just happen to have the same goals, on finding means to advance Singapore's national interests, if you will.

Reflections on reflected glory

2011-05-31T18:28:00.002+08:00

Met up with a few people a few people a few weeks ago. Sometimes, I think people get so wrapped up in their work, in the belief in what they are doing, even though that isn't necesarily a bad thing all the time, that they forget who they are, where they came from. The thing is, sometimes our work is important because of the weight of the institution whose voice we are carrying, or because it really does serve a greater purpose, bigger than ourselves. But doesn't mean that we should let that get into our heads, and make us forget that we are just reflecting someone else's glory - let this justify us tearing someone else apart, degrade the value of their work, pretend that we are superior.

That is not to belittle the important work that each one of us is doing. But surely we should not let that get to our egos, somehow forgetting in the process that we are not the ones that are important - it is the cause that is. Even if we are brilliant, and I'm not disgreeing that the work we do demands so much out of us, we are ... replaceable.

Humility is important. Human compassion is critical - it is what makes us feeling beings. We didn't get to wher we were simply because we fought hard. There is an element of luck, being a tthe right place at the right time.

I guess all I'm trying to say is that we really should try to keep things in perspective and always have both feet on the ground. Even if you become the top in your field, if you're not humble and you don't have compassionate, you will become nothing but a bitter old man or woman.

Just gonna stand there

2011-04-14T22:20:00.002+08:00

I am tired. I think this is best reflected in that my new pass picture looks like a picture from House of the Dead. And also the minor detail of being sick for almost an entire week.

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. This year's tunnel.

Maybe I'm just cranky. I'm just bidding my time afterall, and everything else is me being stuck in no man's land. The present is messy, not the past nor the future. And yet I feel stuck.

As stuck as that polar bear in the wall of the Serangoon mrt station is.

Why was I antsy? Maybe I'm just really tired and the labour ahead until June makes me feel even more tired. I don't like surprises I guess. Life is better when it's certain?

I know this is stupid. I just want to go and sleep for a very long time.

I remind myself to be nicer to polar bears in any case.

Only yesterday was the time of our lives

2011-04-09T22:41:00.003+08:00

My sister has graduated. It is a strange feeling, mixed with pride and excitement. It feels almost dizzy.

But while one phase of life has passed, another has begun. We can only truly look forward if we have no baggages to bring with us. The future holds so much potential, and it would be a shame to let the past bog us down.

The most amazing quote I read this week was "Holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die". I thought it evoked a very powerful message, that the only person who suffers is yourself.

Yet another thing I was thinking about these past weeks was a quote from Omar Bradley. "We need to learn to set our course by the stars, not by the lights of every passing ship". Don't miss the forest for the trees. Don't get distracted by things that don't matter. I understand this fully more so now.

On a completely separate note, I recently watched two very good Oscar nominated films. The King's Speech is a remarkably good show. A simple but powerful story, acting of the highest calibre and the directing is impeccable. It was motivational, it was inspirational even and it dealt with the issue of the British monarchy, perhaps in a time when it would be useful to reaffirm the monarchy's place, and reinvigorate some interest.

But Black Swan remains the more memorable movie. The haunting performances, the all too familiar plot of a descent into madness, and the story that resonates stronger with each passing moment after the movie has ended. It is most disturbing and because it disturbs so greatly, it has achieved so much.

I'm not too worried that this post seems disjointed.. Life is shaped by important episodic events, not by everyday mundane routines. What is more important is for us to recognise the events that shape our lives, not keep track of every detail of every routine. Which is a strange thing for me to say, considering that I do like some form of structure and routine.

Once you had the taste of perfection.

2011-04-02T00:21:00.003+08:00

I am loathe to imagine that there are many styles and it all depends on individual choice. Why not do both? It isn't really that hard. I know someone who has been able to do so. So maybe it's because you're just trying to find a reason not to change, because doing so takes you out of your comfort zone.

You want to go home on time and not be bothered. Just be entertained and amused. That's all you ask for.

You don't need someone to do ridiculously well, or point out the cracks in your mirror. You don't need someone who won't fall in (your) line.

But she's the exception, I'm reminded. So maybe I am ruined. So unfortunate in once having the taste of perfection, that comparisons are so easily done. I pick the ripest one, I still got the seed.

Someone said to me, there have been so many people we had been wrong about.

But so far, I haven't seen someone who I've been wrong about. I just always hoped it'll turn out better. But I can't change you. I can't change the system.

A younger version of me once said, get inside and then change the system.

It's not the system that is broke. It's not an amorphous entity with no face. It's a biological organisation, made out of individuals. It's individuals who don't (want to) change.

Maybe all I'm craving for is just good old honest, communication and friendship. Like how a boss one told me to get off the computer when it was 11pm, because I wasn't paid enough and neither was she. If only she knew how many times I've told this story.

It's not all bad though. I think I know very clearly now what I need.

Redux

2011-03-23T20:25:00.002+08:00

It took a while to write again. And in retrospect, I understand why I haven't written for about half a year. I think for a long time, there was just a lot of negative energy.

I really should have nipped it in the butt, said something about how I felt to someone who mattered, who could have done something and talked about it in concrete terms, instead of keeping quiet or talking about it only with my friends. But I didn't. I had found it so difficult. I couldn't find a right opportunity. I didn't think it would work out. There really isn't anyone else to blame but myself. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me a million times, shame on me.

But having talked about it with someone who mattered - notwithstanding that it was not much of a conversation but a broken, interrupted monologue - I understand why I didn't better. When you do talk to someone who can actually do something, on something like that, you put yourself in their hands and all your trust in them. And you expect that they do something to help. But sometimes, no matter how hard they try, and even when their actions are significant in of themselves, it isn't enough. Despite all their best efforts. It's too little, too late. Or maybe it's just that their remedial actions make you realise that what you really need is something they can't give you. As much as the remedial actions are commendable.

So for about a few weeks after, I became nonchalant, less involved and less engaged. I became the person that I hated.

With some distance, maybe I'm a lot more clearer on what I want. And it's time to be a alot clearer on what what I need to do going forward. A lot more positive and constructive. No more of that crap. I can make my own choices and I pick my poison.

Every time i close my eyes..

2010-10-10T00:06:00.002+08:00

I think of all the things I would say, but Twain says it better than I could:

Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she laid an asteroid.
Mark Twain

There are basically two types of people. People who accomplish things, and people who claim to have accomplished things. The first group is less crowded.
Mark Twain

Epipany

2010-10-04T22:16:00.002+08:00

I have, for some time, been thinking that the question to ask is what do I want.

But today, a voice inside me asked, "why do you want?".

It was a revealing moment and I thought about all the decisions I've made, all the experiences I've had. I'm thankful for every one of them, and I wouldn't change a thing. I think.

And that is sort of the point. Through it all, despite the ignorance and lack of information, it all panned out well.

So there is nothing to b, nothing to pant for. So why do I want?

C'est si bon de partir n'importe où

2010-09-03T16:28:00.003+08:00

My good friend Cheryl tells me that I'm a bottle of extra fizzy sprite. This bothers me.

I sometimes wonder whether I've become so wrapped up with the pace of life, so engrossed in the things we do, that I forget why I'm here.

The journey more than the ends should matter, and over these years, I feel unlike my old self.

For one, the system, the environment and even its constituent elements prefer, I think, even favour a certain type.

I miss the slap poetry. The cafes run by post modernist hippies. The time by the beach - though oh so crowded now, offers some refuge to the mind seeking some quiet.

And maybe we're no longer 18, as you rightly mentioned, Yoda.

In fact, I catch myself seeing happy 30-something people and I am wildly envious.

Of their carefree smiles. Of their bliss together. Of the joy in being and not having or wanting.

Over the years, perhaps it wasn't reconciliation with the system that took place. Maybe, it was simply resignment to the system.

I sometimes miss the old me. I am trying to find an old post from 2007 but I can't find what I'm looking for, which is some semblance of how I felt during this one incident. I think it was in September or October 2007.

I guess this means I should probably get back to work instead (for now).

Ah, I found the post.

I should start writing again, indeed.

Affluenza

2010-08-10T20:51:00.003+08:00

Affluenza, some infection where you become disenfranchised, cut off from everyone else, isolated because of a relentless pursuit for material goods, for material vindication.

But what if this isn't so much one confusing needs and wants, as it is a product of the circumstances?

Then one must be brave and face up to it. Suck it up. Things that you cannot change, you must surely pray for the strength to go through it. And pray that you do not become changed yourself, let the environment mould you to be a zombie, to be the buzzing logistician. Not become infected with the attitude of "what's the point of doing so much?"

Try in any case. Otherwise what makes you you?

When I write

2010-05-23T22:41:00.002+08:00

Today I spoke to my mother about things on my mind. I asked her how she found the perseverance to continue working, even when she found the job mundane and underpaid, with bosses who were not leaders and did not reward or recognise good work.

"No choice. We need the money to pay the bills. What else can we do?"

Today, I was watching the special report on Goh Keng Swee, which was televised an hour before the state funeral proceedings on Channel News Asia. There was this one segment where Dr. Goh was talking about why he established the Singapore Symphony Orchestra. He said, "Once people's stomachs are filled, they can think about other things."

Maybe all this thinking and frustration... just an unfortunate by-product of my post-modernism.

It got me thinking back to what a friend said after I shared on the frustration I was feeling. He said, "don't be so self-indulgent". I was taken aback. But I appreciated the honesty and frankness.

It's time to take a step back, and learn a lesson in character training.

Btw, Ip Man is the best action movie ever. Makes Jason Bourne look like an amateur. Donnie Yen is amazing.

But 'til I try, I'll never know

2010-05-13T23:13:00.004+08:00

Ironically, the way to do well now is not to care. By that I mean, not take things to heart, not wearing your heart on your sleeves.

It's so easy to fall into emotional vertigo and get affected by the contagion, at least in this case, even when you're very clear that one's private emotional inclinations should not be mixed with professional affairs.

Grow a thicker skin? Probe more and be specific. Be clear about the direction. New directions. I wish I were part of them.

The fact that I have not blogged I think, is firstly reflective of how busy I am. That much is clear. But I also suspect that it's because I rather not blog about professional unhappiness. And maybe I am unhappy, I don't know. This scares me, because I am not sure I cannot do anything about it that doesn't involve burning a bridge.

Amidst the cocktail talks, she hears the caustic ticking of the clock

2010-03-22T23:23:00.002+08:00

To repeat a cliche, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. When you come across a rock that doesn't move, jump. At least you'll rise above it. I have a three prong plan to build up expertise, increase independence while being cognisant of certain structures. It's part of my grand strategy for a year of restful increase.

By the way, have I mentioned how I have a new phone and how much I love it? One cannot take the small things for granted. They make life that much different.

But you can't deny, that's me in your eye.

2010-02-25T19:48:00.003+08:00

I am wildly excited, but cautiously optimistic and holding my breath. Will the closet constructivist in me be unleashed or will the hard-nosed, pragmatic realist reign supreme once and for all? After two and a half years, I'm finally moving onto a different position, doing slightly different work.

I envisage the move to be a beneficial one. I will have more time to think about the future, more energy to do more runs (and in fact, I would have run today if I weren't with the flu), more motivation to strike a positive tune and think about positive projects, reinforcements and personal development.

I suspect I shall be happy in Disneyland. I recall being oh so very happy when I was in Tokyo's Disneyland. There is no reason -- for now -- to think otherwise. I have so many questions and am hungry to know more.

Workplan 2010

2010-01-03T19:52:00.003+08:00

when I looked back at 2009, I'm not sure what to make out of it. If I had to talk about it, I could probably name something I did at work each month. But that is just it. I don't quite remember anything else. It felt like a blur, things outside of work.

And part of it, I think, stems from the fact that I didn't have much of a new year resolution. I mean, I'm not quite a new year resolution type person. I tried them in 2008 but sorta fell off the bicycle (note: ironic because I can't cycle) halfway through the year.

So this year, it is going to be different. This year, I have a workplan. I have a plan with core objectives, key thrusts, strategies and monthly KPIs. I figure I'll incorporate some of that kick-ass training from work into my personal life.

Essentially, I aim to enjoy a more balanced and fruitful year. I want to continue to do well at work, eat and workout more, spend more quality time with family, and strengthen my friendships. I also want to diversify (to widen and deepen) my interests by learning, reading, watching and traveling more.

Now if only I don't have to sleep.

My pastor said that 2010 will be a year of "restful increase". It oddly fits into my plan.

I've read the words before so now I know

2009-12-06T21:34:00.004+08:00

I watched Blueberry Nights this evening. It's a film by Wong Kar Wai, and pretty similar to the type of stuff he's done with Chungking Express and In the Mood for Love. There's this quote in the movie, where the two main characters Jeremy (played by Jude Law) and Lizzie (played by Norah Jones) talk about the cakes that people have in the cafe that Jeremy owns.

Jeremy says, "at the end of every night, the cheesecake and the apple pie are always completely gone. The peach cobbler and the chocolate mousse cake are nearly finished... but there's always a whole blueberry pie left untouched."

Lizzie responses with a question ."So what's wrong with the blueberry pie?"

"There's nothing wrong with the blueberry pie. Just... people make other choices. You can't blame the blueberry pie, just... no one wants it," Jeremy offers.

As I watched the movie, I was eating a piece of cake, from Dao Paulo. I didn't plan to eat this cake watching Blueberry Nights. I think the irony wasn't lost on me, and it made for a few very difficult mouthfuls.

I know how silly this must sound.

If I were a boy

2009-11-22T01:01:00.004+08:00

A friend of mine posted a picture of me while we were in NYC. I looked so different...

On that account, I was in NYC and Washington just about up to a week ago. It was quite an experience. I learnt alot on that trip, about myself, about people and things.

Your point of view is just medieval

2009-10-26T19:57:00.002+08:00

I was watching a little of the American version of The Office today. I'm a big fan of Ricky Gervais' The Office and I think he's quite a genius so I had high expectations for the American adaptation.

Overall, I fancied it. I thought the acting was good, the chemistry well developed between the male and female leads. The actor playing Jim though, reminds me of someone I used to know.

But what made the Office such a great show, is the way it brings out the theme of awkwardness so well. How people can overreact, because they're drama queens, or how they don't necessarily know how to respond to situations and, well, other people.

And I'm reminded of this because of some similarly awkward conversations I've had with some acquaintances recently. I keep thinking to myself, why would you say something like that? Maybe people have different viewpoints, perspectives, experiences. My sister thinks that people have different wavelengths. Maybe that is true too. This frightens me. I know I should expect people who have not seen each other in years to have different interests and topics of conversation, but somehow I can't seem to accept the notion. I guess I will find out for myself soon enough. I hate to think that friends will drift apart but there's not something I should find inconceivable. Still, I hope to keep the friends I have.

On a completely unrelated note, it's 5 days and counting. I should be excited but right now I'm just trying to get over being down with the flu for now. One step at a time, eh?

Comparisons are easily done once you had a taste of perfection

2009-10-19T22:40:00.001+08:00

I was standing at the bus interchange. I had just bought myself a water chestnut drink and was trying unsuccessfully to open it. The guy standing in front of me in the queue for the bus asked if he could help. Pleasantly surprised and very astounded by the offer of kindness, I passed him my bottle of water chestnut. He turned it once, twice, it was opened. He smiled and handed my water chestnut drink back. This one act of chivalry, of kindness made my day. It cheered me up immensely. Never mind the crowds who push their way into the MRT. Never mind the shoving and elbowing. That was how much of a difference that one action made. And I will certainly try to pay it forward. Thank you Mr Bottle Opener.

I never meant to ...

2009-10-15T21:03:00.002+08:00

So I have significantly more time on my hands. It makes me think more, like where is my life going? Am I happy at work? Where do I see myself 5 years from now and am I on the right trajectory? And if not, how do I move onto the right trajectory?

Maybe I just need a break. But what kind and from what? And what would the break do for me?

On the corner of Main Street

2009-10-12T00:51:00.002+08:00

I have just received a wedding invitation card from a JC classmate. I am speechless. This makes it real. More real than the facebooking wedding invitation she sent.

Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart

2009-10-10T19:03:00.003+08:00

I think people should just lay off Ris Low already. The media's had a field day dissing her. One day it's her bad English, the next it's her credit card fraud record, and then just when you think it's over, they even talk about her boyfriend.

I must admit, when I first saw that razor tv video, I dismissed her very quickly. But after the countless numbers of headlines dedicated to her, it got old. How many times can you pick on someone before you realise what a bully you are becoming? Sure, she may not have the tools to express herself, but is it really news worthy?

So let me get this straight, our news rather focus on a ex beauty queen and her escapades? You know, this isn't news after a while. It's starting to sound like a slumber party conversation. The Singaporean media should really quit writing about Ris Low - we don't care if she's got a boyfriend or if she continues to speak bad English - and start acting like a decent news outlet. After all, if you continue to harp on a has-been headline, you're really putting into question your journalistic bona fides.

Things I have Learnt (or not)

2009-10-05T20:28:00.002+08:00

If my 25 year-old had the chance to reach back in time to say 10 things to my 15 year-old self, what would I say?

1. That anything worth something doesn't come easy, so don't give up.

2. That there will be an endless stream of people who will try to put you down, and that you should never let them get under your skin.

3. That it's the actions that you don't carry out that you will regret the most. You only have one chance to get it right. Related to this, follow your heart, not your head.

4. That your mother shouldn't throw away clothes from the 80s. It'll come back in style in 2009.

5. That no matter how fat you think you are, you're skinniest when you're 17. And related to this. that you will never again be able to eat 4 bowls of noodles so enjoy your metabolism while you can. And related to this, that MacDonald's is actually quite gross so stop eating that crap.

6. That above all and everyone else, friends and family will the be most important people.

7. That you should take all the pictures you can now, so that you remember what was important to you in your teenage years. (And commemorate how skinny you are.)

8. That things that you hated eating, like carrot cake, will suddenly taste great when you're 25.

9. That when you're 25, even though you've the benefit of experience and therefore expertise, you'll still be the silly, unsure 15 year old inside.

10. That when you read what you've written when you're 15, it will all seem laughable but after laughing, you'll miss that 15 year old's unwavering faith in humanity and people. How I do miss her.

Or hear ear to ear

2009-09-26T22:40:00.003+08:00

They say that just before you die, your whole life flashes across your eyes. Maybe it's the same for everything else. On the eve of most exams, I get dreams in which I relive studying for my exams again.

Maybe it's because you forget how you enjoyed learning about the subject before the stress sat in. Maybe it's because you're at the end of one phase, and your mind refuses to purge all the experiences. Your heart wants to keep the experience close, and not relegate it to a memory. And your body can't process it in a way that you understand.

You are suddenly inundated by the rush of emotions to your head, the hope and euphoria of firsts, the beauty of familiarity and not being able to reconcile these with the eventuality that you're heading towards.

Sometimes I do wonder if I'm a rancorous, bitter and angry person. I'd like to think that I've tried very hard not to be this person but I resign myself to knowing that my black and white view of things often impede my acceptance of grey. Not being to put someone or something in a box. Even if the box doesn't fit, cognitively and emotionally, this works for me. It's yes or no, black or white, hot or cold, wrong or right. I don't dwell on the blacks, nos, cold and wrongs. But I assign them values, so that I can move on. So maybe I shouldn't assign them such values? But how do I gain closure then? How can I move past these events?

There's certainly merit in reconsidering the approach but it take effort, no, courage, because that's not how I've functioned for the past 14 years, and to reconsider the approach means taking a giant step to relook all the things that's happened, starting with the big one 14 years ago. Maybe that's why I don't want to try to do that. I'm not sure, but I can try.

Same old brand new you.

2009-09-24T17:24:00.002+08:00

I'm looking at a picture of me and my mother in old Montreal. The picture was taken when we first went there to set up everything I needed for a life at McGill. I was 18 years-old. It is almost scary, how thin I was. I recall wishing that I was skinnier. It's funny how you think you're chubby when you're a teenager. Nothing like being in your twenties to make you realise just how much you take your body for granted. But the thing is, I remember being very skinny because I was bed-ridden for almost a month. I had a horrible case of gastritis and I could not eat anything solid. I was so weak, I could not even stand up or walk without having to hold onto something. And I had to drink rice water everyday. And let me tell you, rice water is really the most disgusting thing in the world, along with bitter gourd and sago paste.

I can't spell it out for you.

2009-09-15T21:20:00.001+08:00

Running isn't easy. Depending on the distance, it takes something to continue moving your legs and doing this for an extended period of time. For a while, I can't remember when I started, but I ran looking slightly downwards. I adjusted this today. It's easier to continue running when you're looking straight ahead. Don't get distracted by the people who you may past once or a few times. There is no fatigue in your legs if you focus on the way ahead.

If you keep pushing yourself to get to the path ahead, you'll never reach your destination. So maybe in that way, you'll never get disappointed. Because what will you do once you're there?

And when you run, hat does your mind do in the meanwhile? Does it wonder to your past? Do you ponder your future? Do you think about what your present is and how you can change it or if you are happy with it? I keep my mind busy with music. Often I find angsty music works best. There's something about forcing out the emotions that you sometimes feel but can't manifest that makes your running more focused and forceful.

You're wrong when it's right. It's black and it's white.

2009-09-12T15:45:00.001+08:00

So now that I'm officially two years in service, I think I'm supposed to feel very experienced, knowledgable in the ways of my work world and able to navigate, obtain what I need and push all the right buttons. And to a large extent, that is true. I no longer have to ask myself, what do I need to think about. These thoughts have become instincts. And I have much to thank my seniors and bosses who have come before me.

But life is pretty self-deprecating. Just when you think you know it all, something new comes along. An event that causes a paradigm shift. Someone who brings new energy or different perspectives to the game. A new work culture at the office. So work never becomes boring.

The other day my mentor asked me if I was thinking of rotating to another department, another office, heck, another division. His exact words were, we can't have you specialise. Which I agree with. I'd like to do something fundamentally different that will challenge me to use a different set of skills that I've not already. Maybe even a change from my current cubicle? But I enjoy what I do now. And I think a shift to another department, though not another office, will still let me learn alot more. To deal with a completely different set issues that will require me to be more of the diplomat than the policy formulator. At least that's what I perceive it to be for now. So yes, I'll consider rotating to somewhere more vastly different in another two years. That's the amazing thing about where I am. There are so many options. We're a government in ourselves.

Why am I blogging so much about work? Maybe it's because it's been two years. (And that I've gotten my first promotion. To Senior Desk Ninja.) I like what I do, but I sorta need an anchor. So much of work demonstrates and proves to me that there is much I cannot control, which is not something I'm used to, still. I need to be able to control things. To say that I can decide things. Something to call my own. Maybe buying a new computer will solve this. (Which is not a bad thing, considering that this one can't even play anymore CDs or DVDs. And it takes 10 seconds for the computer to register that I've clicked my mouse.)

This was never my intention

2009-09-06T23:53:00.002+08:00

So over the weekend I went to a supposed spa. Supposed for reasons
that will be made clearer by the end of this post. And to protect the name of the spa for reasons that will be very apparent, let's call it< Pure Spa.

So we got to Pure Spa at about 1600 hrs, which we had earlier made an
appointment for. And the front desk is mad busy with 5 - 6 people looking real busy. And normally in a spa, you'd imagine that the spacewill look very zen. But it was cluttered with the personal items of the front desk staff. We were kept waiting for about 10 minutes. The staff served us ginger tea. More staff shuffled back and forth. Another was frantically trying to find a file for someone who appears to be a regular customer, except she looked tired with bedraggled eyes and a lumpy figure.

One thing that jumped out at me from this whole experience is the seemingly unexperienced staff who run the place. 10 minutes into the massage, and being faced down so you can't see what's going on but
could deduce from the shadows moving about, the door opened and a shrieky voice motioned my masseuse. "Alice, ni bu shi ze ge guy ke!" At that point, I could feel -- and see from the shadows -- my masseuse take her hands off me and shuffle out of the room. I had to compose myself because i felt like laughing out. Who does that? A few seconds later, another masseuse opened the door and shufffled in. After closing the door, she proceeded to continue as if nothing had
happened.

After the entire thing, the front desk staff tried to hard-sell a massive 30 session package. The funny thing was that, after we had shown no emotions whatsoever -- and no receptiveness -- she proceeded to calculate for us the breakdown by month if we paid via instalments! When that didn't work, she continued to press hard, indicating that they could work out 10 or even 4 sessions instead. And she proceeded to break down the figures using a 24-month instalment plan. This struck me as weird. You mean that there are people who would buy these packages even though they can't afford it, going so far as to pay via instalments?

It was an eye opening experience.

I keep on searching

2009-08-23T21:56:00.002+08:00

I just passed my two year mark at where I work last week. Two years is a long time. It started me asking, where is this going, where do I see myself, in two, four years ahead, and therefore what do I hope to achieve now to move towards that ends. Or does my input even count? At times, it feels like I'm searching for something. Looking for something. But I'm not too sure what I'm looking for and I'm left wanting.

Recently I read Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun. It's a sorta coming of age story, in which a man moves along in life, marrying the right woman, taking the conventionally right steps in life, only to arrive at a point where he's made to question his routines, his way of life, upon meeting his childhood sweetheart again. It really drove home the point that so much of what we do are based on inertia, not wanting to break the momentum, on routine. And that while we live our life based on rational and logical beliefs, so much of what we believe in can come crumbling down like a house of
cards. Our lives remain fundamentally fragile. We live each day making a (sub)conscious decision to go along with what we have.

Or perhaps I should just stop reading Murakami's books. They often
induce existential questions.

Things that are Life Changing

2009-08-19T18:42:00.000+08:00

Everyone has their one defining moment. A point in time that defines,
challenges and shapes the way we think, believe and behave. When was
yours?

If I had to name a point in time that was life defining, I'd say that
my life defining moment came when I turned fourteen. It's strange,
this was eleven years ago and yet everytime I hear a Backstreet Boys
song, come across pictures of myself in braces, or see teenagers
rollerblading along east coast park, it only seemed like yesterday.

I had a dream then. Perhaps it was more of a decision. To light a
fire. Go the distance. Reach higher. I had a diary once. I wrote down
things in there, and I thought through them and decided on a course of
action.

You know, it's funny the way life turns out. A fourteen year old girl
must dream big and ignore the naysayers if she wants to set a
precedence. :)

What do you see?

2009-08-10T14:21:00.000+08:00

Look into the future, what can you see two, five, ten years from now? Where do you see yourself? Are you successful, surrounded with friends? And are you happy?

Vision is a powerful thing. It lets you plan for the future, open your mind to the possibilities, and take action.

Of all the things I felt but never really shown

2009-08-02T22:21:00.000+08:00

Apparently, SMRT will be imposing fines for the following acts in MRTs:

Kissing in trains (propose to impose $500 fine)
Blocking of doorways (propose to impose $100 fine)
Occupying more than one seat (propose to impose $500 fine)
Failure to give up reserved seat to someone in need (propose to impose $500 fine)
Blaring of loud music (propose to impose $50 fine)

One thing I'm curious about is why kissing is as big a sin as failing to give up your reserved seating. Surely, a couple who is being affectionate can't be compared to someone who refuses to give up their seat to an elderly, pregnant or disabled person? This disturbs me greatly.

Climb every mountain high

2009-07-26T23:46:00.000+08:00

Often I find myself in strange situations, second guessing, wondering what if. And then semi-hating myself for not doing what I should have. Often I find that going with your gut instinct is the best course of action. Listen to our heart. Give in to our visceral reactions. Don't stop yourself, don't second guess.

It's easy to kick yourself when things pan out a different way because you don't listen to your inner gut. Your spirit. But like that silly S Club 7 song, just smile and let it go.

One thing I am thankful for are the friends I have. The (in)frequent smses on meeting up, or just to say hi. Sometimes, it's so easy to get caught up in work. Not even bat an eyelash when we say, sorry I'm not free for this and that, and not even feel an ounce of pity that we're not meeting up. (And I'm plagiarising here, because these were real words from a friend I met a month back.)

Work matters, but friends and family are essential. As we climb ths career ladder, let's not forget to smell the roses, and spend time with the people who matter. Like what someone once said to me, you shouldn't make your family and friends bear the cost of your career climb. You should bear this cost yourself. I think I can't agree more.

We'll remember all the times we had together

2009-07-18T23:09:00.002+08:00

I'm reaching my two year mark where I work. Two years is a long time where I am. Most people are rotated out after two years, to another ministry, or somewhere else in the massive machinery. There's not much fanfare. It's become widely accepted that people will move.

I was listening to Vitamin C's Graduation. It was a song which marked my Junior College days. It was a song I think a bunch of us in the class held close to our hearts. There's a line in the song that goes, "so we talked all night about the rest of our lives, where we're going to be when we turn 25." And here's the thing. I am 25 now, and I'm asking myself, is this where I thought I'll be? And more importantly, what's going on with my JC friends?

So I'm putting together a class reunion. For me personally, it'll be really nice to see everyone again.

99 bottles of beer..

2009-07-12T23:10:00.002+08:00

I am puzzled how broken shards of what appears to be an entire glass bottle of Oleander water can make its way into my kitchen. After much discussion, the family thinks that it was thrown from upstairs, got hit by our windows and most of it ending up in our utility room / kitchen.

But the thing is, most of it ended up further away from the window, in the kitchen. And my in-depth knowledge of trajectories and forensics based on many seasons of CSI Miami tells me that the bottle was deliberate thrown from downstairs into our window. This disturbs me greatly.

A part of me wonders whether it's the insane drunk neighbour whom I've called the cops on a couple of times previously.

Another part of me thinks I'm paranoid.

But we had eggs thrown into our house before, about a year back. Or so methinks. The family has a different thesis involving birds trying to lift eggs and accidentally crashing them into our kitchen.

Maybe it's a stalker. But checks with the family indicate that none of us have stalkers, at least none that we know of. And you figured stalkers will have the decency to let you know you're being stalked first.

This incident is really odd.

There you go, lookin pitiful

2009-07-06T20:24:00.003+08:00

Hey you. Yeah you. Don't look
Left or right.
That's right, I'm talking to you.

I've had enough of
Your inconsiderate radio blasting
At 5am.
I'm tired of
Excusing your drunk irresponsible behavior
And what I should assume
Your wife beating ways.
And in fact I called
The police.

See, I thought it was just your means of escapism from the pathetic, depressing excuse for a life that you have owing to firstly, your inability to provide for your family and secondly, relying on your wife who is obviously superior to you, mentally and emotionally.

But now that you've
Externalised your misery and
Unconsciously shown what a
Sad existence you have
Maybe I should be
Nicer.

Best of John Stewart

2009-07-03T13:49:00.003+08:00

"Sarcasm, I get it now. See that time I thought your joke manner was just the way you were supplementing your shame over the discomfort you feel deep in your soul after extinguishing the last smoldering embers of your journalistic bona fide."

Things you should or shouldn't take for granted

2009-06-25T23:00:00.002+08:00

It's so easy to take things for granted, when you start making money. Its starts slow and small. Like buying a soya bean drink at a hawker centre. Materialism creeps in, maybe.

But some things, shouldn't you be able to take for granted? Like living past your thirties. I don't understand it, but I'm slowly learning to prioritise and find time for things and people who matter.

Je ne veux pas travailler.

2009-06-21T01:09:00.002+08:00

One thing that disturbs me, is when I start to have blog posts that are few and far in between. When this happens, I start to wonder, is it because I don't have any more stories to tell? Is this because I'm not noticing the funny, silly things that come my way, or worse, is it because I don't have these experiences anymore? And if the latter, does this mean that my life is getting more mundane? Am I turning into a Murakami book?

God help us if I am. For most Murakami books end up with someone dying tragically, fulfilling an Oedipus complex or never finding true happiness.

But then I refused to be defined by my experiences per se.

Then again, it's our experiences which makes life beautiful. Our unfulfilled wishes, our dreams that came true, and our blips of coincidences. Yet ultimately, life is a choice. We reach out and grab with the palm of our hands, the things we want, the experiences we choose and the people in our lives. Things don't slip away, no, we decide that they should slip away. And we live with these choices, knowing in our heads that it's for the best, but sometimes our heart tells us otherwise.

Like this awesome bag I got from Springfield at 30% discount. My head told me, no way you just paid your taxes and with no mid-year bonus, you really shouldn't spend money so frivolously. My heart told me, it's only $70 bucks. Plus along the way, my heart convinced my heart that it was functional, the perfect size and looked very durable. Heart 1 Head 0.

Ramblings - week of 13 Jun 09

2009-06-17T15:23:00.003+08:00

He's very on the ball. Yeah, but he makes us the ball.

All huff and puff, and you want us to go get a crane to pull down the house?

Teethless wolf. I don't answer to you.

We're empty

2009-06-09T21:32:00.004+08:00

Today I went to the bathroom 7 times.

By my count, I think there was enough to make a snow man.

In fact, I think I finished my year's quota in a day.

My intestines feel like they're falling in, because they're completely empty now.

On a completely separate note, body ordour makes me angry. Furious when it lingers around for 15 minutes. Please stop, go away.

Tell me your name.

2009-05-27T20:45:00.003+08:00

There is power in speech. There is power in articulating thoughts and saying what you think. For one, it shows action on your part. It registers with people your opinion. In fact, it signals to people that you even have any opinions to begin with. But that is second order.

No, the power of speech lies in how it changes your beliefs. If you choose to remain quiet, you may not fully comprehend why you think the way you do. You dissect and discuss with yourself and you reason. But when you speak up, you complete the process of negotiation between the space of your brain and your tongue. Instead of a thought circulating between the space of your two ears, it now becomes tangible. By speaking, you therefore decide, this is what I think. By speaking, you have unconsciously shaped your belief about the issue.

2009-05-18T22:28:00.003+08:00

The loud man sings at 5am. Killing me softly with his song.

My eyes open and close. Uninspired, I stir in my bed. I toss. I turn.

I think I need a summer holiday.

To help me write again, to flaunt the tip of my pen. I held a pen and I liked it.

Instead of dwelling on snake, snake.

Today's going to be the day where they'll never throw it back to you.

Tell me we're going to fly away, because I'm glad you're going my way.

I'm a sinner, I'm a saint.

2009-05-06T21:45:00.003+08:00

I demand because I know you can. Yes you can.

I remind because I know you have alot of things on your mind.

I ask because I want to hear your reassurances and answers.

I can be blue, I can be violet sky.

2009-05-03T17:15:00.003+08:00

X: Yea, we are going out to lunch on Sunday or some shit.

Me: That some shit is my birthday lunch.

On a separate occasion...

Me: Hey look at the flowers I got for my birthday.

X: Oh, are they dying?

2009-05-01T12:14:00.002+08:00

All this talk about Swine Flu and the DORS Condition Level.

Why is our condition orange when there's not been an infected case in Singapore?

Why is the government raising the DORS Condition and still asking people not to be alarmed?

Why are we treating it as if it's worse than SARS, especially when SARS happened right here?

Why are the Israelis saying that it's offensive to call it Swine Flu to Jewish and Muslim populations, and then thinking that it's any better to call it "Mexican Flu"?

Straight out of a movie scene

2009-04-24T21:37:00.003+08:00

I saw him today. I wasn't sure at first. So I closed my eyes and listened.

Listened to his conversation with the man next to him.

Listened to his voice, his pronounciation, his lisp.

The brute. It is him.

My neighbour who gets drunk and blares Hotel California at 3am.

I'm going to be your number one.

2009-04-19T17:36:00.004+08:00

Outside of Cafe Cartel on Friday night, I approached the staff to get a table for my mother, my sister and I.

"Hi, do you have a table for three?"

"Okay. How many?"

"Erm, three."

"Four?"

"Three!"

I have never been more exasperated in my life. I always thought speaking English could be taken for granted. And I certainly cannot imagine how three may sound like four.

The Mirror

2009-04-13T23:48:00.002+08:00

Why does it matter who we are? Why must we think about it, ponder as if our very lives hang on that thread? Should we continue to celebrate existentialism, and prostrate ourselves, face down hands stretched out?

No indeed, let us not prostitute ourselves, pretending to search for some supposed higher cause. Casting ourselves in buckets of shit, no in fact, throwing ourselves into pools of mud, and we gladly push our heads in. We gladly swallow, gulp down the whole thing.

We let incidents define us. We let our posture, our positions tell us who we are. Must we always think of the ifs and whys? Can we not throw away our cares of next week when our motto is yesterday?

For shame, can we not just revel in the here and now? Can we not just live without fears, without thought for tomorrow's woes? Is it too much to ask that we hold onto life's dearest, fling ourselves and grab onto the winds of youth?

And then played golf for a while.

2009-04-12T13:13:00.001+08:00

Dear Mr C. and Mr F.,

7 years ago, you said some things to me. I'm too harsh and too assertive. This made me reflect. Made me stop in my tracks. Made me want to change. Not be that person.

And so I tried. And it worked.

But now people say I'm too soft.

A part of me thinks that maybe the real lesson is, you shouldn't give a crap about what people think. This sounds politically right.

A larger part of me, however, thinks I should just let out that 17 year-old again.

I think the truth is about skin. How to be comfortable in your own skin. Not to let people get under your skin.

And how to be thick-skinned.

Speaking of skin, I ran running more frequent this week, and I covered more distance than I usually do. Which probably means my skin got thinner -- I hope!

I am annoyed

2009-04-03T21:46:00.004+08:00

I left my notes at work. I was all ready to type out the notes i took from a seminar I attended the other day. I had brewed coffee and had my playlist of funky itunes songs. I even had a back-up Saturday Night Live show ready to run in case I felt sleepy. Now I'm annoyed that my evil plans to type out these notes have been ruined.

Thankfully to compensate, I brought back some academic pieces that are somewhat work-related to read. But still, I am annoyed when plans change. Boo.

Edit: I just realised how nerdy this makes me sound.

R-Day

2009-04-01T23:56:00.002+08:00

Star Awards don't mean a thing. They reward the actors and actresses who acted in the most recent shows, rather than the actors and actresses who demonstrated real acting skills in shows a year back.

They reward the big bangs, the pow-wow shows. They reward popularity. Hell, they are popularity contests. I still can't believe the Little Nonya is up for so many awards. Jeanette Aw cannot act even if her life depends on it! The only actor I found acceptable was the actress playing Tao Jie!

Back to my point. Star Awards really don't do justice. There's a reason why alot of movies are released end-December or January. If Slumdog was released last April, it may not have won so many awards at the Oscars.

So somehow I feel like it's a fake. Some travesty of justice. I feel bad for the others.

And I'm not even talking about Star Awards.

Cassandra, Queen of Troy

2009-03-21T22:03:00.003+08:00

"Kafka, in everyon'es life there's a point of no return. And in a few cases, a point where you can't go forward any more. And when we reach that point, all we can do it quietly accept the fact. That's how we survive."
---- Oshima, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

"It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It's just as Yeats said: In dreams begin responsibility. Turn this on it's head and you could say that when there's no power to imagine, no responsibility can arise."
---- Oshima, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

Reading Murakami, you realised how much negotiation takes place when you read a book. Asking what the book means, what it means for you and if it changes anything that you have already known. Negotiation is a overriding theme in Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. Nakata, an elder man, who is able to talk to cats, questions his inaction, his resignation to situations all these years. While Nakata is taught structure and process, he is eventually asked to do something drastic in order to save the lives of cats he knew. A quiet and withdrawn man, he is asked to murder the serial cat killer in order to save the cats he has befriended, which he eventually does.
So oddly, while Murakami's novels stress the social structure of the need to conform, that individuals should resign to their fate, in this one, the characters challenge theirs, by taking on unexpected actions, they create new possiblities.

A random thought. Vin Diesel's Pacificer ads running on Channel 5. It opens with a voice announcing, he has been on missions all around the world. Somalia. Serbia. Bosnia. But Serbia and Bosnia are right next to each other.

Don't let me be the last to know

2009-02-22T19:07:00.002+08:00

At Kim Choon's, the best Peranakan resto ever, after dinner on a saturday evening:

Me: Hi, do you sell those ang ku kuehs by the box or by the piece?

Woman: We sell them by the piece. How many would you like? Peanut or tau sah filling?

Me: Give me three peanut, please.

Woman: Sorry we have no more peanuts, how about tau sah instead?

Me: Uhm, sure.

I'm still not quite sure why she asked me if I wanted peanut or tau sah, if there wasn't any peanut ones left.

Ce soir.

2009-02-17T22:39:00.003+08:00

Je ne veux pas travailler

Edith Piaf

Ma chambre a la forme d'une cage
Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre
Les chasseurs à ma porte
Comme des petits soldats
Qui veulent me prendre

Je ne veux pas travailler
Je ne veux pas déjeuner
Je veux seulement oublier
Et puis je fume

Déjà j'ai connu le parfum de l'amour
Un millions de roses
N'embaumeraient pas autant
Maintenant une seule fleur

Books in pictures

2009-02-15T20:42:00.008+08:00

Murakami's Kafka on the shore reads like a muji pencil box.

Cold matt finished steel.

Pale smooth oak and a crystal clear acrylic top.

And rectangle.

Piceced together with two simple iron screws.

No labels. No colour. No future, no semblance of a past. Just the drifting present.

Total price is $76.

And comes in a clear plastic bag. You can see through it. And it's plain.

Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera reads like a Jamaican tie dyed t-shirt.

It is coloured with the most vibant of fusia, green, red, yellow, maybe Barney purple. We don't know for sure how many colours. It's like there's a sea of colour, and someone took a pail of it and threw it onto this t-shirt.

It is brightly painted by two people. They used their bare hands to colour it. They laughed, they cried, and they drew forceful strokes.

There is a beautiful randomness about it, a passionate randomness.

The t-shirt is very worn, because it was worn many times. It is spilling with a past, it is hopeful of the future.

Je ne veux pas travalier.

2009-02-10T23:27:00.001+08:00

Liberté -- Paul Eluard

Sur mes cahiers d'écolier
Sur mon pupitre et les arbres
Sur le sable sur la neige
J'écris ton nom

Sur toutes les pages lues
Sur toutes les pages blanches
Pierre sang papier ou cendre
J'écris ton nom

Sur les images dorées
Sur les armes des guerriers
Sur la couronne des rois
J'écris ton nom

Sur la jungle et le désert
Sur les nids sur les genêts
Sur l'écho de mon enfance
J'écris ton nom

Sur les merveilles des nuits
Sur le pain blanc des journées
Sur les saisons fiancées
J'écris ton nom

Sur tous mes chiffons d'azur
Sur l'étang soleil moisi
Sur le lac lune vivante
J'écris ton nom

Sur les champs sur l'horizon
Sur les ailes des oiseaux
Et sur le moulin des ombres
J'écris ton nom

Sur chaque bouffée d'aurore
Sur la mer sur les bateaux
Sur la montagne démente
J'écris ton nom

Sur la mousse des nuages
Sur les sueurs de l'orage
Sur la pluie épaisse et fade
J'écris ton nom

Sur les formes scintillantes
Sur les cloches des couleurs
Sur la vérité physique
J'écris ton nom

Sur les sentiers éveillés
Sur les routes déployées
Sur les places qui débordent
J'écris ton nom

Sur la lampe qui s'allume
Sur la lampe qui s'éteint
Sur mes maisons réunis
J'écris ton nom

Sur le fruit coupé en deux
Dur miroir et de ma chambre
Sur mon lit coquille vide
J'écris ton nom

Sur mon chien gourmand et tendre
Sur ses oreilles dressées
Sur sa patte maladroite
J'écris ton nom

Sur le tremplin de ma porte
Sur les objets familiers
Sur le flot du feu béni
J'écris ton nom

Sur toute chair accordée
Sur le front de mes amis
Sur chaque main qui se tend
J'écris ton nom

Sur la vitre des surprises
Sur les lèvres attentives
Bien au-dessus du silence
J'écris ton nom

Sur mes refuges détruits
Sur mes phares écroulés
Sur les murs de mon ennui
J'écris ton nom

Sur l'absence sans désir
Sur la solitude nue
Sur les marches de la mort
J'écris ton nom

Sur la santé revenue
Sur le risque disparu
Sur l'espoir sans souvenir
J'écris ton nom

Et par le pouvoir d'un mot
Je recommence ma vie
Je suis né pour te connaître
Pour te nommer

Liberté.

Streams full of stars, like skies at night

2009-02-08T00:36:00.004+08:00

I like the smell of laundry hung out on a hot day to dry, and the smell of freshly baked bread, the gusts of wind prior to a storm.

I am wildly frightened by body odour.

I do not like loud neighbours instructing, "You are my wife, you must clean and you must cook for me. You must obey me, and love me."

I also dislike cats fighting with each other at 0040 hrs.

But I melt at the sounds of a melancholic Norah Jones wishing she were a painter who could paint her reverie, especially when on a taxi heading home close to eleven on a weeknight.

I enjoy the good chilli with my ayam penyet at Lucky Plaza. But I am not a fan of cookhouse food although I am appreciative of having it rather than nothing at all.

I like talking to people and listening to perspectives, and humming to childhood music. I don't like strained conversations.

I like watching provocative shows that offer you fresh insights. I abhor the sights of traffic jams.

I like the feel of warmth and safety. I hate the touch of cold damp floors.

And now I want to sleep.

Traffic is perfectly still...

2009-01-18T10:47:00.003+08:00

I was on the bus the other day when it turned into a neighbourhood of large houses.

It flashed across my mind.

I come out from a car. A large house. A small garden. Stairs that I have enjoyed climbing to the second and third floors.

Some odd sense of comfort. Belonging.

And I gather my hands, enveloping my temples. I am overwhelmed by the familiarity of this thought.

Very choked by the knowledge of where it stems from.

Covering my ears to stop the loud voices. Shutting my eyes to imagine myself somewhere else.

"I close my eyes and I count to ten," Art Alexakis says.

Remembering the words, when you're older, you will understand.

Statistical Inference

2009-01-11T23:46:00.000+08:00

Fallacies, statistical inference, convergence to the mean, outliers.

Can we really use the theories of statistics to apply to everyday life to infer Black Swans? Nassim Taleb thinks so. He believes in Karl Popper, in Hume's correlation does not equal causation, and in the importance of large sample sizes to approximate the population, bearing in mind still that sample characteristics aren't equal to population characteristics

Reading this book, it's kinda like doing History of Economic Thought all over again. Except bitchier.

I'm sitting down here..

2009-01-04T19:46:00.002+08:00

One day, a couple of years ago, I was boarding the MRT. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted an empty seat and proceeded to head in the general direction. I then sat down upon reaching the empty seat.

Unknown to me then, during this same time, an Ah Lian too had spotted this covetted prize, this empty seat. She then rushed to the seat and although I had already sat down, she proceeded to sit. On me.

Before I could say anything, although I'm not quite sure what someone who unwittingly and very much unwillingly has a complete stranger sit on her would say, the Ah Lian shouted. "I was here first."

It puzzled me greatly, since she was clearly sitting on me and my butt had indeed reached the seat first.

I stared at her and after two seconds, decided to give my seat up to her. She then looked away haughtly.

Today, I wished I said more. Maybe yell in disbelief. "OUCH. Why are you sitting on me?!" would have been my top choice, looking back.

Ponyo Ponyo Ponyo

2008-12-28T22:36:00.002+08:00

Little Nonya Leh.

2008-12-28T20:53:00.002+08:00

It seems that the Little Nonya has generated much attention, even at church. Today, my pastor mentioned that he, like most Singaporeans, also watched the drama series. "But I don't normally watch these drame serials." Yeah, so says most people too.

Of which, my mother is one of the many who follow the Little Nonya religiously. She feels like an expert. Her colleagues seeks her knowledge in vindicating the show's authenticity. This makes her proud of her Peranakan roots, which I suspect, spurs her on to watch even more. "Don't forget, on Mondays, it runs from 8 to 10 pm sayang." I promptly roll my eyes and dismiss her remarks. I come home much later than that anyway, I tell myself. Unfortunately, I still find myself glued to the series, despite the fact that it's a drama about a Peranakan family in Mandarin.

I know, I can't let that language thing go. Perhaps if Mediacorp could incorporate more of the Peranakan language into the show. I know they already use terms of endearment which the Peranakan use, like chor chor and nya nya. But it goes beyond that. You, see the language of the Peranakans is really quite fascinating, a mixture of Melayu and Mandarin or Chinese dialects. Lu ada makan? But on second thoughts, maybe not. What if they get the enunciation wrong? Then I will surely buah tahan.

It is true, the show does cultivate the public's awareness of Baba culture. It is not a reason for tourist shops along Katong. And how rich is our culture! The intricacies of preparing food, the detail that goes into the clothing, and the language! And it does portray -- very accurate -- the amount of power a Baba woman has in the family. She runs the family, she dictates who marries who, her word is law. If she says your Buah Keluah never pound fine enough, then it must be due to your laziness. And don't even think about blending. A real Peranakan house will never use a blender for makan. A real Peranakan house will have the granite pounder to pound the garlic, chilli, onion. Pound and pound. If your eyes start watering then it can only mean that you bodoh, don't know how to pound properly.

Then again, it's your Kong kong, who will taste your food. Sometimes my kong kong tastes the food. He'll say, mmm, this is good. But it will be better with some chilli padi. Sayang, can you go potong some. Or he'll say, good food, but I'm thirsty.

Chicken soup for the Singapore Child's Soul

2008-12-27T11:20:00.003+08:00

"I never knew that chickens did not have hands."

"Excuse me?"

"I said I never knew chickens did not have hands. I always thought they had hands when I was a child. I thought what I ate was chicken hands. You know, the chicken soup we've all had when we were children. It had chicken feet which I thought looked like hands. So I thought I was eating chicken hands."

"Okay. So when did you find out it was chicken feet?"

"Well, when I was in primary school, we had a field excursion to a farm. And when it came to checking out the chickens and chicks, I looked furiously for the hands. I thought maybe the chickens had covered them under their wings. But they weren't there. And then I spotted their feet and thought how much they looked like what was in my soup. It then occured to me."

Spotted in Singapore

2008-12-21T21:11:00.006+08:00

A few hundred dollars or so: A large sign that greets you Merry Christmas as your car turns into Orchard Road from Scotts Road.

Priceless: The ERP gantry charging you immediately after.

Running Playlist, 20 Dec 08

2008-12-20T19:41:00.006+08:00

Little NONYA Lah.

2008-12-06T23:49:00.004+08:00

I'm going to complain about the Little Nyonya on Channel 8. It is seriously lacking in realism and apa lagi, so many things ta ada and all the Peranakan references ta cukup.

Where to memulakan? So many parts of the show which bothered me. For example, even if you were from a rich family, you will surely not wear such beautiful kebayas and sarongs when you're cooking or mopping the floor! If you damage your kebaya while doing household chores, your mother will surely pinch you on the thighs or flick her fingers at your knees, while scolding you, oi think you're a princess huh. Ask you to clean, look like you already want to pengsan. Go and pound some chilli / make some achar achar / clean your brother's army uniform.

That brings me to another point. How come no scolding during the cooking scenes? How come the nonya lama never scold the nonya baru Jeanette Aw, eh your vegetables never cut finely enough, why you fry like macam scraping the frying pan, how can you just throw meat into the pot like that, try the food before you serve lah. Going through this tough phase is like a rite of passage -- there is simply no escaping it if your family is Peranakan. So how come never show?

And then the father, wah piang, not fussy enough. He should have been complaining from the first time he stepped into the house. Wah, why the floor so dirty, why the food don't have chilli padi to accompany and not enough salt, why the shirt never iron properly. Instead he looks consistently tired. No Peranakan guy is ever tired, please.

One thing the show really missed was the British angle. The Peranakans were pretty close to the British post Second World War so how come there wasn't this reference to this? It was a huge part of Peranakan culture: Peranakan families would hang out at the British Recreation Club, they spoke English more than Mandarin, they sent their kids to convent schools. They will even cho cho the British to give their children jobs, buy them makan. So how come this show ta ada?

One thing that also bugged me was, it's spelled nonya not nyonya. Every time I read the spelling, I'm a little annoyed. Hey, who would you rather believe? The people who are nonya or the people who aren't nyonya? My people have been writing for a long time, nonya then cheena totos go and misspell nyonya, apa ini?

That being said, credit must be given where due. The best thing about the show is the accurately immaculate hairstyles! On a serious note, I'm optimistic that such shows will promote a greater awareness of Peranakan culture. And I am surprised at how much air time was to things that are quite close to the Peranakan culture, like food preparation. But still, I think having to watch a show about Peranakan people in Chinese, super weird man. Peranakan ta kacap banyak cheena. It's almost like screening a movie about the French in German, you know.

Where we're going to be when we turn 25?

2008-12-01T22:12:00.002+08:00

Yesterday, Jacinta sent me the 01S48 video we made on the last day of school at VJC.

It was a compilation of everyone's well wishes for each other with Where's the Love by the Black Eyed Peas playing in the background.

It was really funny, it showed all our geekiness and immaturity, but it was ... beautiful.

I think it captured the essence of the optimism, the sillyness and the fun we had in VJC.

I wanted very much to post it here but the file was too large and despite my numerous attempts, blogger.com just couldn't get the upload video thing to work.

Oh well.

Jacinta also sent me transcripts of our discussion boards. There was a particular one from me on the ever sappy topic of relationships, on working out differences and .. love. I was then very enamoured by The Mexican which I still think is a pretty good movie about love.

But reading on the posts that I wrote, I cringed at how immature I sound, almost naive. This, however, saddens me because it can only mean that I'm more cynical now.

Today, a colleague said something very morbid to me. It was one of those, "who does that?" type conversations where unfortunately, I could raise my hand and say, erm it happened to me? Okay, maybe not exactly the way she described it, but roughly there?

I felt myself shift uncomfortably and look away.

Four years of college and plenty of knowledge..

2008-11-28T00:42:00.003+08:00

We're subject, bound by inertia, used to convention and held back by our conservatism.

We so whole-heartedly wish to preserve what we know. Please, God forbid, that something dramatic should happen.

We almost hold onto the status quo. We're so disturbed by the very notion of change, of anything even vaguely different from the norm.

But if we look back, we realise that history is filled with one shock after another. In the span of 50 years, the world came out of a global war, witness the growing possibility of nuclear annihilation, observed communications expand tremendously, the rise of institutions and had one of the world's superpower collapse.

So even with our reluctance, hindsight shows we must acknowledge that black swans are more common than we thought. Wild cards intercept our comfortable trajectories. Figure out what the unexpected is, because it's the unexpected rarest events that has the greatest impact. Taleb, you are so right.

In the still of the night

2008-11-23T00:41:00.003+08:00

There is much to think about, to ponder in the still of the night. The air is cool and inviting but its density adds to the general sense of weariness.

Perhaps naturally so, it's 1am. The Time Traveler's Wife. It encompasses the still of the night.

I used to stay up until the wee hours of the morning to read a little, study a little. There is some solace in the quiet. I can read a little and listen to my thoughts better.

I've looked at my resolution for 2008, and I realise how silly resolutions are. One should not need resolutions to keep up, to set goals. What is this life, so full of care, if we have no time to stop and stare.. this rings in my head. I used to want to chase after, run after, and for what? It's time to stop and stare. And think. And do.

2008-11-06T21:07:00.001+08:00

ESAD.

Say it again, for me.

2008-11-02T02:00:00.003+08:00

I watched Avenue Q today. Don't wish to go back to college anymore though. The musical, I thought, was pretty good. But the fact that I'm more enthralled at how nice the Esplanade is may betray otherwise. Among these champagne sipping / gucci clad spectators though, is a strange thing.

The thing this week though, is that I wished I went to watch Kanye West. He was in Singapore, performed 22 songs for 2 hours but I didn't go because the anticipation was that he wasn't going to give it his best since it's Asia and because it wouldn't be good since his songs are mostly duets but unlike his North American tours, it's unlikely that Rihanna or Lupe Fiasco would perform at his concert.

I'm still reading Al Gore's Assault on Reason, and I found myself disagreeing with the book a couple of times. Mostly the assumption of the wisdom of crowds, the utopia of perfect information. Hey, let's get this straight. People can have perfect information. But they may not process it properly, so they can still screw up important decisions. You can't just blame the administration for going into Iraq. Everyone, I'm sure, knew that the WMD case to do so was sketchy, but like what Johnson mentioned, what we have to fear is fear itself.

Time to sleep, or watch some supernatural, or read a Nation in Waiting.

fleeting glimpse of eternity

2008-10-22T21:33:00.005+08:00

And with the awful economic situation, I am for once almost thankful to be a civil servant.

Today I was talking to a colleague about another friend who used to work in Lehman. Now he works for Namura. He still has the same office, same desk and even the same telephone number. My colleague said, hey, that's just like us, expect that if Malaysia won a war against us tomorrow. Who knows, they'll still be hiring us. We'll still write all their bries. And we'll just shift click change all Singapore to Malaysia in our word documents.

And as I was relating this to another colleague, I said, hey maybe it's not so bad being a foot soldier. I mean, we're not that important and we can still do work. But our biggest bosses, who knows, they may get beheaded.

On an unrelated note, I have about 5 mosquito bites.

On a more unrelated note, and the real reason for writing, but with a brush in my hand, the world just gets kinda quiet.

Weekend of Music and Books

2008-10-19T23:48:00.004+08:00

I think I must plan out my weekends a little better. On the bright side, I got to listening to more music this weekend, as I read through Al Gore's Assault on Reason. I've been procrastinating finishing - or rather continuing since I stil have about 100 pages left - the book, and it's quite a read. I also spent most of the weekend finishing Wolf at the Table by Augusten Burroghs. Wolf is Burrough's autobiography of his childhood and his relationship with his father. I know I mentioned it before, but the book is pretty good. Burroughs describes his feelings and events with a point sharp accuracy. All too familiar maybe?

Music wise, I've been listening to Marie Digby a lot this weekend. Her rendition of Umbrella is quite fascinating, as well as her take on You Give Me Something by James Morrison. I've also been listening to Mandy Moore's version of Secret Love and as much as I know that Mandy Moore's very poppy... her rendition struck a chord. It just had the right amount of puppy love and broken heart.

Then I got listening to a bit more Westlife. I used to get teased in jc for listening to West-no-life, as Char calls it. But I actually like them, even now. I remember as a silly teenage girl, Id listen to their songs everyday. I really liked these heart clucthing ballads. I'd even pretend that someone would be thinking about me when they hear these songs. Except now I'm pretty sure people do. They hear Westlife and they think, oh my gosh why does Suling listen to this crap..

Oh and I got 30% from Borders on a book on Indonesia: a Nation in Waiting by Adam Schwarz and it's quite a read already.

每天必须面对的分岔路

2008-10-07T21:14:00.002+08:00

On the perfect day, I wake up and go running. After a cool shower and a quick read of the day's news over breakfast, I take a taxi to work at about 9:30am. I'm at a talk, listening to insights. I go for a simple but delightful lunch with colleagues, and I have a good cup of coffee. I then drop by quickly to pick up a pair of shoes and a blouse for 70% off. All done in half an hour. I then head to the office to be quickly productive, before heading home at 6:30pm.

PostSecret - L'edition francais

2008-10-06T22:58:00.002+08:00

I won't say the words..

2008-10-04T11:01:00.004+08:00

Last night I was watching the news when they ran a story on how MND has taken several measures to reassure the residents of Serangoon Gardens that the dormitory for foreign workers will have minimal impact on them. Presumably MND had worked with MOT to propose a new and sole entrance into the dormitory via the CTE and Ang Mo Kio. MND is also reassuring residents that the dormitory will be "self contained" MND is also capping the numbers at the dormitory at 600 with further studies / consultation / work to be conducted on raising the number to 1000 in the future.

The exact lines by Mah Bow Tan were, "If in future, there's a need, there's a demand for more space and if the monitoring shows the disamenities are minimal, as we expect, and in consultation with the adviser and with grassroots leaders, we will then decide if we want to up the number. Even then, it will be capped at 1,000."

Read between the lines.

The thing that bothered me though, was that the Serangoon Gardens residents complain that their basis was the "strain on amenities" that 600 more workers will impact upon. They also highlight that because of the move, their property prices will decrease. They claim however, it's not about race or ethnicity.

Some extracts from CNA:

"I am fed up!" a woman screamed from her car.

"I am thinking of moving out," said a resident.

Although the dormitory is for foreign workers in the manufacturing and services sectors, residents said it does not mean security is less of a concern.

Chen Sung Sheng, a resident at Burghley Drive, said: "I think it is the same, isn't it? It all boils down to the same... foreign workers, regardless of what they are working as. Of course, we can't say that all foreign workers are bad. But majority of us are not very happy about it."

Read between the lines. The thing is, when the government mentions that the population will increase to what, 6 million, and the trend is that birth rates are low, you have to deduce therefore that alot of the growth will stem from migration. It's a inevitable fact of industrialisation. And Singaporeans, who prided themselves on racial harmony, ethnic diversity - a point I still don't get because how does Chinese, Malay, Indian and Others translate into diversity - turn so xenophobic so quickly? I mean, no one has qualms about living near Holland V, but raise a ruckus when a group of foreign workers move into their area? How can it not be about race? I' ve certainly never heard anyone say, "oh all these expats moving into my neighbourhood. They're bring the prices of my property down!"

Separately, I stumbled upon this video on tomorrow.sg and thought it very appropriate to share it here.

And I thought Christina Aguilera was fluff.

2008-09-29T21:09:00.001+08:00

If you've never watched the best impersonation of Sex and the City's Samantha, you should check this out. It's a short skit on Saturday Night Live starring - surprise surprise - Christina Aguilera.

Jamais Vu - A Wolf at the Table

2008-09-28T19:01:00.003+08:00

I'm reading A Wolf at the Table by Augusten Burroughs, the writer of the prize winning Running with Scissors. I've not read or watched Running with Scissors yet but I've heard it's good so I thought I'll just follow the herd. After all, can't be that bad if the guy's critically acclaimed, right?

And so I embarked on Burroughs' semi autobiography, a narrative about his dysfunctional family and more than anything else, a book that talks about his estranged relationship with his father. I'm only on the 20th something page or so but the descriptions and the narrative is already, shockingly honest. He talks about the events in his life when he was a yougn boy, and his metaphors, his analytical discourse on why he did the things he did or why he felt the way he did ... Burroughs hit all of them on the head. He gets them right, and the fact that he does can only mean one of two things. He's either a friggin' brilliant writer, or he's actually lived through these events and actions.

Take for example, his description about how as a little boy, he used to take the mints from his dad's briefcase. He liked them because he though that his father had always bought those because his son liked them. He liked them because he thought they were specially bought for him. That is until one day, he realised that his dad never meant to buy those mints for him. They were in constant supply not because his daddy wanted to buy more for his son who took a liking to them. They were in constant supply because Burroughs had eaten most of them, leaving his daddy having to buy more for himself. And then Burroughs realise, he doesn't actually like the mints anymore.

Another story he recounts is only allowing himself to play with the Noah's Ark in the bathtub, and never allowing himself to play with the other toys, a self punishment he feels he deserves. He deserves this because he thinks he's the cause for his father's parental absence.

The book is replete with these childhood stories, analogies told from the viewpoint of a young boy. Analogies that are almost too familiar. But the familiarity is what exactly makes it tragic and if you will, hauntingly beautiful.

2008-09-27T15:00:00.002+08:00

I am a thinking. One step back and two steps forth.

Maybe it's my neighbour whose alarm is still ringing after 12 hours.

Note to self. If you're ever going on holiday, check that you've switched off all alarms.

You Lighted My Life.

2008-09-26T00:49:00.002+08:00

Thing is, teachers are the building blocks of any student's life. They can make you want to do well, excel, strive for something. But they can also break your spirit, your morale, all too easily with a harsh word, with their mean sarcasm.

I spoke with someone who used to work at MOE. She mentioned that there was this particular junior college where the teachers would tell the students to get real because the majority of them would not qualify for a local university. The teachers drew pyramids and highlighted that the students were in a junior college which was at the bottom.

It reminds me of this experiment demonstrating the power of social psychological intervention. In this experiment, there were two groups of teachers and two groups of students. The first group of teachers were told that the group of students were very academically inclined and performed well above the national average. The second group of teachers were told that the students they had were disinterested in academics and generally performed below average. The teachers taught the students and the students were subjected to exams at the end of the experiment, which lasted over a long period of time. Not surprisingly, the first group of teachers and students did better than the second group. The funny thing was that, in actual fact, the second group of students were the above average group, and the first group was in fact the below average group.

It just goes to show the power of beliefs, the power of a teacher's influence. What the teacher believes will also manifest in their actions and motivations and what he / she eventually projects on the student.

I remember when I was in Secondary 4. I was constantly getting As in literature, and there were times when I topped the class, the cohort. One day, my literature, perhaps in an attempt to temper my expectations - and maybe ego - said to me that I wasn't a naturally intuitive person, and I was not naturally good at literature. I got a B3 for O level Literature. Sure I'm simplifying things by squaring the blame on her, when in reality, there were mot factors. But the point here is that her words really stung me. It took away my motivation. It took away my will to want to study literature. Why? Because she was a role model to me then. And for her to say those words, it stuck.

The point here I was trying to make is that, teacher, your words matter. Don't say stupid things.

2008-09-11T14:35:00.002+08:00

If you never had the option, never tried, never had the experience, don't preach from your pedestal.

It's easy to say I never wanted it anyway, if you never had it.

I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed

2008-09-09T07:06:00.004+08:00

On Sunday I went to the doctor's. Not my usual family doctor because his clinic was closed but the 24 hour one across from him. I found myself face to face with a wizened old man, long flowing white hair and glasses.

He checked my alredy red eye, and asked what was wrong with me. I proceeded to tell him that I've been sick for a while, and that the viral infection could have made my immune system weaker, hence making my eyes more susceptible to bacterial infection.

He then related how conjunctivitis is a contagious disease. "I once caught it from a patient," he said.

"What you have is a viral infection. It makes your body weaker and susceptible to bacterial infection. And it may be contagious. Maybe you should take MC. Two days? You'd better stay at home," he said in one breath.

Then he shifted his consultation notes and his chair one space away from me.

He shifted away from me...

My sister and I looked at each other in disbelief.

You're gonna fly away.

2008-09-06T07:59:00.003+08:00

I wanted to say that I used to read people well. Then I realised, that's not true. I don't read them as well as I thought I did. So maybe not much has changed from then.

Random - This thought ran through my mind as I was eating my nasi lemak the other day:

"Thank you for the world so sweet

Thank you for the food we eat

Thank you for the birds that sing

Thank you God for everything. Amen."

We used to sing this prayer everyday, every meal when I was in nursery.

You're so much braver than I give you credit for.

2008-08-31T22:54:00.003+08:00

On a day when X and I were having a charged argument, the conversation went a little something like this. X said something. I thought I heard her mentioning something different from what we had agreed to previously. X said it wasn't different, that I must have heard it wrongly the first time around. Not wanting to lose, I turned to the other person present who also heard the first conversation the other day, Y.

"No, you didn't say that. Right, Y?" I argued.

Y looks up at both of us, looks to me and looks to X.

Y then looks down and responds "My toe hurts."

X and I immediately burst out laughing. It wasn't just those words. It was the delivery of those three words. Diverting attention on focusing on something completely unrelated.

If ever there was a way to stop arguments dead in their tracks, or diffuse a tense situation, I think I may have found those three words to.

Why are you home so late? My toe hurts.

Why didn't you include these in the submission? My toe hurts.

How did Mas Selamat escape? My toe hurts.

You are gold and silver

2008-08-28T22:23:00.003+08:00

Music and Lyrics has to be one of the better shows I've seen in a bit. Yes, the plot is a bit iffy. Yes, Hugh Grant acts as Hugh Grant and there's little character development with Drew Barrymore's character. And yes, the Cora thing is very unoriginal.

But. The Pop Goes my Heart music video is priceless, and the song resonates in my head 24 / 7 now. I also think that Hugh Grant is really more like Hugh Grant v.1.5 with the added hip twisting feature. And Way Back into Love is possibly the most meaningful song, now that there's a bit of background. History if you will. And the tragic tormented genius thing encapsulated in a woman seals the deal.

It is effective and very entertaining. I really liked it. Wow. I know I said I'm never going to lose my head but then.. Pop!

We live in a beautiful world. We do, yes, we do.

2008-08-20T23:15:00.003+08:00

When you tell me, it's time for the parting of the ways, I remember giant tears welling up in my eyes. I started to wonder for the second time in my life if anything was forever anymore. If a 6 year friendship wasn't, then what is?

So it was a surprise, and a rude shock, when you add me on some online networking site.

And you know what's more shocking? That a few years down the road, your work gets sent to me to look over and amend, despite the fact that we don't work in the same office, because it wasn't well done.

Call me bitter if it makes you feel better. But it just goes to show that karma's a funny thing. It will come and bite you in the freaking ass.

Sunlight in Your Universe

2008-08-19T20:38:00.003+08:00

Yesterday, I spoke with a friend on the topic of looking ahead and moving forward. We do funny things to be brave, to prove to the world - and to a large extent ourselves - that we are adapting well, and to demonstrate that it's really the other person's loss. We buy new things to signal some fresh start. We buy things for ourselves to remind ourselves that we're worth it. And we change ourselves, maybe in some attempt to put a division between then and now. Some way of telling ourselves that it's not going to happen again. No more hurting. Maybe in some way, we do these things because it makes us feel in control.

I remember chopping off my locks and getting a pixie haircut a few years ago. Everyone loved it. And the attention really helped in soothing my scarred ego. Funny enough, in recent years, I've realised that I had no scarred ego to speak. I also realised that I was actually quite a horrible person, having broken up with someone during - gasp - class.

My point is, we do things as coping mechanisms. One way or another, some need to reassure ourselves that we're okay. Some act of defiance against the other person, as if to say, you're a fool for leaving. At least there's anger, which is the second stage of grief. At least it means you've moved beyond denial, which is the first stage. Of course, there's still the sucky stage of sadness before you reach the last stage, acceptance. But it means progress, you know? So maybe it's a good thing.

During our conversation, we also talked about the idea of preservation even as you move on. We may write about our feelings or listen to sappy songs. Or read horribly depressing novels. And then of course, after you've accepted it for what it is, you can finally start to recollect, to evaluate, to see the relationship for what it was. You're only able to do so - and this is an important prerequisite I think - because you accept the end of the relationship. But it's okay to think about it, about what it meant and its place in your life. There's closure. And then maybe, in some far off distant future, you can actually envisage yourself being normal friends with this other person.

But it's a process. It's tough and something that no one can really walk you through or go through with you. You have to do it yourself. Your self realisations are the only things that can get you out of the pits. And as cliched as this is, somehow, unknowingly, it's going to be okay. Not now, but soon. The hardest thing though, is to see someone you know and care about go through the process, and watch it knowing that you can't do a thing about iy.

Thoughts at 3am

2008-08-09T02:42:00.003+08:00

I am going to NDP tomorrow. I am wildly excited.

Just a few hours ago, I was hanging out with my JC classmates, sipping magaritas and having a few glasses of wine. There was something so comforting about it. At first I thought it was the nostalgia. But then I realised, it was more than that. It was the free flowing conversations, that I could say whatever, however. Even if Tim or Char made fun of me. It was the fact that these were genuine friendships. Trust.

I was just telling them, so much of our relationships with people, the ones that matter, are based on trust. Without trust, it simply won't work in the end, no matter how much you want it to or how much you try.

I will miss them when they fly off again.

2008-08-03T19:13:00.002+08:00

I am finding it very difficult not to blog about this one thing.

But for now, self censorship maybe is the best way. If you articulate, you accept and if you accept things, how can you change them?

I've been sick the entire week. Semblance of being sick maybe. Now my voice is hoarse, which pisses me off big time. Singing in church was difficult. Boo.

Anyways, the other day I was happily eating lunch. Nasi lemak, yum. And then I hit something hard in my chilli. Hard. Unscooped it. A dollar coin.

At first I was disgusted. Grossed out. I shrieked. Then I paused. Stood up. Took the coin. Washed it. Put it in my purse. My colleague said it was was an instant rebate.

Oh well, at least it was mroe than 10 cents. A whole shinny dollar.

Como si fuera esta noche la última vez

2008-08-02T23:57:00.004+08:00

Talk, talk, talk, talk too much? It is more than enough, in fact. But about me, some semblance of more need and therefore .. a way of saying, not you, just me, if it becomes like that.

Stop and stare, please. Don't walk away. I don't know, goodbye.

2008-08-01T07:05:00.002+08:00

The constriction in a thermometer prevents the mercury from flowing back into the bulb too quickly so that the temperature taken can be read.

Without the constriction, the thermometer wouldn't work.

Space. Constriction. But not really space, just credibility. Some recognition of independence, some acknowledgement of my maturity, some semblance of self worth ultimately. Why is it so difficult to find that validity?

I'm being over sensitive again?

2008-07-22T06:01:00.004+08:00

I've been unable to sleep very much the last couple of days. I suspect it's partly the caffeine so I'm cutting down. Cold turkey from now. But some things you can't help feeling.

Like the rearrangment of your priorities, the realignment of what matters. A sharp jolt.

It's not the busy period, the paper folding, packed meals, being surrounded by people. So many people. I think it's the hardest when it's over. When life has to return to normalcy, except normal has a different meaning. What if they're all you have? Then you have nothing?

It gets hard when it gets quiet.

2008-07-16T22:12:00.003+08:00

You're never prepared, even when it was anticipated.

She said love don't come easy.

2008-07-10T22:29:00.002+08:00

I know that one shouldn't work too hard. It's okay to work hard for a while, but not too much.

What I didn't know is that you could actually die because of too much work.