I would have preferred not to blog about it, but I think I should, because it helps me feel less yucky.
Or maybe it wouldn't really help. I don't know.
...
I just found out that I am not entitled to the 13th month bonus.
Yes, it is not a big deal, I know, I know. I am just kicking a big fuss. Yes, I know I know.
I guess maybe I was thinking in the logical sense. If one year has 52 weeks, then I should legitimately get the 13th month 'bonus', which is really not a bonus.
But no la. The world doesn't always run on logic, as we would all have realized.
As I would think that I have worked as hard as others, sloughed as much, if not contributed my insights, I am not quite at peace with the kind of deal I am getting.
I cannot complain of course; I signed the contract willingly, not fully understanding the clauses and being aware of what is being spelt out.
...
So I thought I should write about it to consider the good side of the issue.
Because life is so se-nang, I can afford the time to plan for my wedding.
Because life is so se-nang, everyone is so nice...and I have had the opportunity to make some good friends.
Because life is so se-nang, I can go home immediately after work and pursue my own activities.
Because life is so se-nang, I can go for time off to play sports with other colleagues.
All that...all that, for a month of pay. No doubt it is a rather hefty amount.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A test
Back in the office for the third day. One and a half more day of work and two more (kind of) days to Christmas.
How has it been?
Eh, ok. Am a little stressed up because I need to rush out a chapter (for a book. Eh no, not for myself) and that we are meeting the publishers on Mon. Other than that, so far so good.
...
Do I miss anything about China?
Well...not really. I guess if there were anything I miss, it would be the very relaxed kind of lifestyle. When days seem to float slowly by. When I can sleep at midnight (not because I want to) and wake up at 730am fully recharged. When I can eat pretty much and still lose weight (guess its too cold).
Other than that, nothing really. Although maybe, if I have had to be there longer, I would have tried to make life more comfortable by bringing 'homely' things with me. But since I was only going to be there for a month, I didn't see the need to.
On the whole, I think the trip has made me more bearing and more humble.
I used to think that I can be rather impatient and snappy (attested by my behaviour towards my mum). But I was proven wrong.
My roommate, who is a lady is her 50s, tends to like to call me 'stupid' and 'silly'. Well, and yes, I do sometimes do stupid and silly things...probably unintentionally but nonetheless, it is still irritating.
And of course, don't expect a lady who has lived half a life to tolerate such behaviour.
So, while I dislike being called stupid (and what-have-you), I usually will retaliate with a "Ya lo. I am so stupid lo." I mean, the point is, I never thought of myself as being too clever to begin with.
I don't know what she really thought of me by the end of the trip but when we parted, she commended that I have been very good. Because for the many times she had chided me off, I had never once retorted.
Oh well...
sometimes we really never know who we are and what we are capable of until we are put to the test.
How has it been?
Eh, ok. Am a little stressed up because I need to rush out a chapter (for a book. Eh no, not for myself) and that we are meeting the publishers on Mon. Other than that, so far so good.
...
Do I miss anything about China?
Well...not really. I guess if there were anything I miss, it would be the very relaxed kind of lifestyle. When days seem to float slowly by. When I can sleep at midnight (not because I want to) and wake up at 730am fully recharged. When I can eat pretty much and still lose weight (guess its too cold).
Other than that, nothing really. Although maybe, if I have had to be there longer, I would have tried to make life more comfortable by bringing 'homely' things with me. But since I was only going to be there for a month, I didn't see the need to.
On the whole, I think the trip has made me more bearing and more humble.
I used to think that I can be rather impatient and snappy (attested by my behaviour towards my mum). But I was proven wrong.
My roommate, who is a lady is her 50s, tends to like to call me 'stupid' and 'silly'. Well, and yes, I do sometimes do stupid and silly things...probably unintentionally but nonetheless, it is still irritating.
And of course, don't expect a lady who has lived half a life to tolerate such behaviour.
So, while I dislike being called stupid (and what-have-you), I usually will retaliate with a "Ya lo. I am so stupid lo." I mean, the point is, I never thought of myself as being too clever to begin with.
I don't know what she really thought of me by the end of the trip but when we parted, she commended that I have been very good. Because for the many times she had chided me off, I had never once retorted.
Oh well...
sometimes we really never know who we are and what we are capable of until we are put to the test.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
As I nurse my cold
Right now I am typing at work, but I will be leaving after lunch.
Not because I am on leave though, but because I am sick. I just returned from the doctor who diagnosed it as cold and dismissed my earlier flu jab to have anything to do with it.
Frankly, it is getting rather disconcerting. My joint aches are killing me (the doctor says joint aches are not necessarily due to flu viruses; a cold virus can have the same effect). I am perspiring profusely but I am feeling cold. My nose is stuffed and my head hurts like crazy.
And it is all very disconcerting because I am leaving for China on Sunday. And, I will be there for a month.
...
I don't usually succumb to the cold virus so I am unusually curious about this bout.
All I can think of is Wed, when I had attended class without my sweatshirt in my so-proclaimed chilly room, which is a rare event because I usually will bring the swetshirt out wherever I go.
Maybe I was trying to train myself to be strong; to be able to battle the cold.
Oh well.
...
I kind of toyed with the idea of not flying off to China should I not get better by tomorrow.
But I really want to go! Despite the fact that my mum thinks poorly of the activity and the university...I really want to go.
I guess to a certain activity, I need a break from work.
For the past week when my boss has not been around, I have been volunteered to do work that is not within my scope. Not that that is not possible--my boss has already asked me to do a lot of things beyond the stated scope--it irritates me because of the way I have been asked to do it.
Anyhow, not that it bothers me...I see it as a means to extend my repetoire of writing styles.
And even as I am disgruntled about the abuse of authority, I do understand that this is part and package of worklife. Some day, some giant will just decide to exploit you for his own benefits.
Can you do anything about it?
Nothing, I reckon.
But you can do something with it.
...Train yourself up.
And maybe the first time I will end up like today, sick because the training was too harsh...
But eventually the body will develop resistance, I am sure.
And it doesn't get to us anymore.
Not because I am on leave though, but because I am sick. I just returned from the doctor who diagnosed it as cold and dismissed my earlier flu jab to have anything to do with it.
Frankly, it is getting rather disconcerting. My joint aches are killing me (the doctor says joint aches are not necessarily due to flu viruses; a cold virus can have the same effect). I am perspiring profusely but I am feeling cold. My nose is stuffed and my head hurts like crazy.
And it is all very disconcerting because I am leaving for China on Sunday. And, I will be there for a month.
...
I don't usually succumb to the cold virus so I am unusually curious about this bout.
All I can think of is Wed, when I had attended class without my sweatshirt in my so-proclaimed chilly room, which is a rare event because I usually will bring the swetshirt out wherever I go.
Maybe I was trying to train myself to be strong; to be able to battle the cold.
Oh well.
...
I kind of toyed with the idea of not flying off to China should I not get better by tomorrow.
But I really want to go! Despite the fact that my mum thinks poorly of the activity and the university...I really want to go.
I guess to a certain activity, I need a break from work.
For the past week when my boss has not been around, I have been volunteered to do work that is not within my scope. Not that that is not possible--my boss has already asked me to do a lot of things beyond the stated scope--it irritates me because of the way I have been asked to do it.
Anyhow, not that it bothers me...I see it as a means to extend my repetoire of writing styles.
And even as I am disgruntled about the abuse of authority, I do understand that this is part and package of worklife. Some day, some giant will just decide to exploit you for his own benefits.
Can you do anything about it?
Nothing, I reckon.
But you can do something with it.
...Train yourself up.
And maybe the first time I will end up like today, sick because the training was too harsh...
But eventually the body will develop resistance, I am sure.
And it doesn't get to us anymore.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Something useful to do with myself
I wonder if everyone goes through the same cycle of emotions: uplifted-> down-> melancholic-> aimless. Then pause...drifting up from aimlessness to inspired -> uplifted...and the whole cycle again. Do people go through that?
If yes, I am normal. If not, why do I keep finding myself feeling this way?
...
Just the past Sunday, V had shared about the struggle of living out the beatitudes.
These are a way of life. They are an attitude.
I suppose that means it can be formed if we consciously try hard enough.
Oh well.
I am writing this entry feeling a bit disgruntled and down. With myself. Oh well, looks like I can't keep my promise to my student F about not being 'emo' anymore.
(F said: You are getting married oh! Happy already! Cannot write emo entries anymore!)
Eh. I will try harder, I promise.
But you know that disgruntlment is not exactly a negative energy, I would think. Because it makes me think.
In fact, it made me see old things in a new light.
That, is uplifting.
...
When I was in the USA, I was often bored to tears.
Stuck in a rural part of a cosmopolitan city made it worse. I was so near to the facilities, yet I was so far.
That led me to keeping myself indoor 80% of the time. I didn't drive around to explore because I wasn't a good driver. I didn't travel to other states because I didn't want to miss religious class (and waste money--geez. What a bad excuse). So in the end, I didn't do what I had initially set out to do. Not one of it.
And I came back, almost empty-handed.
I remember being angry at myself for a long time.
There I was, free, nothing to do, with all the time in the world, which I could have used to my advantage. I could have studied more Spanish and taken my exams, did more yoga and became a teacher, danced more and and made better use of my time. But I had decided that it was not worth it...I had decided to become a bummer and stay at home to watch Ellen degeneres and the morning show.
I, threw all those possibilities away.
So if I had decided on all that, then who shall I blame?
*points finger around*
...
So what am I trying to say?
You see, I agree with all that people had said: my life is very aimless now.
When I was in school, life was easier because I was always working towards something, towards an exam rather.
Yes, my life had always only been about exams. HOW very........pathetic, huh?
So there is reason to be aimless now, isn't there, since there are no more exams?
But that is not the point. The point is, I haven't lived enough (not in terms of age, but in terms of the 'true spirit') to understand what I want from my life.
When people tell me I am pursuing too many things, I used to feel embarassed about it. I know it is a vice --because I end up becoming a Master of none--and I feel bad about it.
But that night, when my brother slammed my violin--mind you, the violin is broken now--and my parents did nothing at his unwarranted outburst, I suddenly understood something:
I was chasing everything because my parents couldn't afford to give me much. (I had wanted to say 'anything' but I realize that is not true.) No, I don't blame them, just like I don't blame them for not showering enough love on the family.
They never stood up for me. I always had to fight for everything.
And yes, life is like that. Never perfect.
Once speechless, I can now tell you. I am chasing everything because my parents never felt I could do anything. And I am not kidding about that.
I am chasing everything because when I was young--I never told you this before and I am not making it up and you have the right to not believe me if you think I am just telling a tall tale--everyone told me I would amount to nothing.
As young as five years old, I have heard that. Straight in my face.
Until don't know when, I still hear that. Still, straight in my face.
Nobody ever felt I could do anything. All they told me was "You will grow up to be a good-for-nothing."
I don't know why they said that. I really don't know. I sure hope it is not because I am naughty because I was never naughty or mischievous.
But I do know that I do want to prove everyone wrong.
Every single one of them.
...
You know, I bet we all have a story to tell. A story which can sometimes be forgotten because it is suppressed.
So for now, while I am trying my best to not be such a Jack, I can't say for sure I will succeed. I mean, we all have emotional baggages that can take forever to haul. Maybe I will still be aimlessly doing many things...
So while I try my best not to be a Jack, I have also been thinking hard about the kind of life I want to lead.
Like now. This kind of life.
Free, non-restrictions. Easy. Relaxed.
Not exactly the best, yes. But it is good enough.
And I was thinking, there must be a reason why I keep 'meeting' this kind of 'situation'. So since I am in it, why not make the best out of it?
...
R said something very meaningful: I want to fly when I have barely learnt how to walk.
Well, fine then. I shall walk. All my life.
Let's not try to fly anymore. Really. Let's not do that.
Let me not kid myself into believing I can soar.
And yes, you may find this conclusion seemingly familiar. Well, that is because I chanced upon this reflection before.
(Connect: There must be a reason why I keep coming to terms with this reflection.)
Then let me do something useful with it.
If yes, I am normal. If not, why do I keep finding myself feeling this way?
...
Just the past Sunday, V had shared about the struggle of living out the beatitudes.
These are a way of life. They are an attitude.
I suppose that means it can be formed if we consciously try hard enough.
Oh well.
I am writing this entry feeling a bit disgruntled and down. With myself. Oh well, looks like I can't keep my promise to my student F about not being 'emo' anymore.
(F said: You are getting married oh! Happy already! Cannot write emo entries anymore!)
Eh. I will try harder, I promise.
But you know that disgruntlment is not exactly a negative energy, I would think. Because it makes me think.
In fact, it made me see old things in a new light.
That, is uplifting.
...
When I was in the USA, I was often bored to tears.
Stuck in a rural part of a cosmopolitan city made it worse. I was so near to the facilities, yet I was so far.
That led me to keeping myself indoor 80% of the time. I didn't drive around to explore because I wasn't a good driver. I didn't travel to other states because I didn't want to miss religious class (and waste money--geez. What a bad excuse). So in the end, I didn't do what I had initially set out to do. Not one of it.
And I came back, almost empty-handed.
I remember being angry at myself for a long time.
There I was, free, nothing to do, with all the time in the world, which I could have used to my advantage. I could have studied more Spanish and taken my exams, did more yoga and became a teacher, danced more and and made better use of my time. But I had decided that it was not worth it...I had decided to become a bummer and stay at home to watch Ellen degeneres and the morning show.
I, threw all those possibilities away.
So if I had decided on all that, then who shall I blame?
*points finger around*
...
So what am I trying to say?
You see, I agree with all that people had said: my life is very aimless now.
When I was in school, life was easier because I was always working towards something, towards an exam rather.
Yes, my life had always only been about exams. HOW very........pathetic, huh?
So there is reason to be aimless now, isn't there, since there are no more exams?
But that is not the point. The point is, I haven't lived enough (not in terms of age, but in terms of the 'true spirit') to understand what I want from my life.
When people tell me I am pursuing too many things, I used to feel embarassed about it. I know it is a vice --because I end up becoming a Master of none--and I feel bad about it.
But that night, when my brother slammed my violin--mind you, the violin is broken now--and my parents did nothing at his unwarranted outburst, I suddenly understood something:
I was chasing everything because my parents couldn't afford to give me much. (I had wanted to say 'anything' but I realize that is not true.) No, I don't blame them, just like I don't blame them for not showering enough love on the family.
They never stood up for me. I always had to fight for everything.
And yes, life is like that. Never perfect.
Once speechless, I can now tell you. I am chasing everything because my parents never felt I could do anything. And I am not kidding about that.
I am chasing everything because when I was young--I never told you this before and I am not making it up and you have the right to not believe me if you think I am just telling a tall tale--everyone told me I would amount to nothing.
As young as five years old, I have heard that. Straight in my face.
Until don't know when, I still hear that. Still, straight in my face.
Nobody ever felt I could do anything. All they told me was "You will grow up to be a good-for-nothing."
I don't know why they said that. I really don't know. I sure hope it is not because I am naughty because I was never naughty or mischievous.
But I do know that I do want to prove everyone wrong.
Every single one of them.
...
You know, I bet we all have a story to tell. A story which can sometimes be forgotten because it is suppressed.
So for now, while I am trying my best to not be such a Jack, I can't say for sure I will succeed. I mean, we all have emotional baggages that can take forever to haul. Maybe I will still be aimlessly doing many things...
So while I try my best not to be a Jack, I have also been thinking hard about the kind of life I want to lead.
Like now. This kind of life.
Free, non-restrictions. Easy. Relaxed.
Not exactly the best, yes. But it is good enough.
And I was thinking, there must be a reason why I keep 'meeting' this kind of 'situation'. So since I am in it, why not make the best out of it?
...
R said something very meaningful: I want to fly when I have barely learnt how to walk.
Well, fine then. I shall walk. All my life.
Let's not try to fly anymore. Really. Let's not do that.
Let me not kid myself into believing I can soar.
And yes, you may find this conclusion seemingly familiar. Well, that is because I chanced upon this reflection before.
(Connect: There must be a reason why I keep coming to terms with this reflection.)
Then let me do something useful with it.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Searching for my way
I have not been able to blog for the past few weeks for various reasons and I thought I should just drop by today since 1) Iam feeling like it; 2) I am not in exactly a mood to rant; 3) I have things to say.
...
Just yesterday, something rather unpleasant has occured.
I was asked (specially) to help record minutes for a meeting. That was just one side of it. The other side was because I had demonstrated a strong competence (or I choose to think so, if that idea is more likely) in assimilating ideas.
It was a meeting for a taskforce. To start on a new venture and yes, chart a new chapter in the history of the organization.
While I may dislike the niche I am in, I take great pride in what I do. That can be a paradox, yes. It is just like, maybe you don't believe in democracy but you enjoy being a politician. The two concepts may--I emphasize--be related in a distant sense yes, but they are still related.
Anyhow, let me summarize by saying, it was unpleasant because other people tried to boss me around.
This other person brought in her own group of staff and TOLD me I need not do what my boss had asked me to do.
No, it was not in her capacity to do that. My boss is the chairperson of this whole committee and he had asked me to work together with XX.
It is a complicated story--just know that in the end, I was left feeling upset simply because I had imagined she had doubted my ability. However, after talking (or rather, ranting) to R, I realized she did it for strategic reasons. That other person probably was trying to win my boss' favour.
Will she succeed? I don't know. And I don't really care.
All that matters to me is, if in the end my request to work independently succeeds, then she better pray that my report is substandard to her staff's.
She better pray for that, because I don't want to get the last laugh.
...
And yes, life has been a little tough. Well, not that I am complaining.
Just a couple of week or so ago, a very dear friend L had spoken to me in all honesty and earnestness.
She asked me if I had ever considered thinking about my career seriously and if I were really prepared to settle down.
To really settle down requires a lot of things, I was told.
I remember feeling very upset--and trying very hard not to show it--at the end of the conversation. I wasn't upset at her; I was upset that no matter what I did, I was open to miscomprehension.
My friend had thought I was a little too happy-go-lucky (for lack of a better word) towards the development of a career and she had wanted to remind me to take a more composed attitude. She was speaking from experience, having changed jobs twice and getting into the third one at entry-level and hence, commanding a sizable sum less than her counterparts.
It wasn't like I didn't realize my predicament. I mean, I am totally aware of it.
But is there anything I can do?
Is there anything I can do when the job that I like right now is a contract position, which is based on a renewal term of 1.5 years?
Is there anything I can do when I like research but fail to reach the calibre required of Research Officers in governmental agencies?
Is there anything I can do when I am born stupid, am brought up speaking Mandarin, got a C5 for General Paper and a Second Lower for Honours?
Maybe there is--please let me know!
The truth is, I have been trying very hard.
It is because I am trying so hard which is why I have a full-time job now. Else, I would have been still doing part-time work as before. I like that carefree kind of life.
It is because I am trying so hard which is why I hadn't gone ahead to do the million and one things I badly want to do. I want to save up for my parents.
It is because I am trying so hard that I sometimes get so disappointed with myself and I just tear and cry. I too don't want to be direction-less, but my search has proven to be longer than others.
And yes, I do wish that I know what I am searching for, but the truth is, I don't!
And I am not saying these to gain your sympathy. Nobody deserves anyone's sympathy.
I am just saying this because I hope you can look at me from where I have come--the fact that I have grown--and not where I am.
Because I am never probably going to be nowhere near where you think I should be.
...
Just yesterday, something rather unpleasant has occured.
I was asked (specially) to help record minutes for a meeting. That was just one side of it. The other side was because I had demonstrated a strong competence (or I choose to think so, if that idea is more likely) in assimilating ideas.
It was a meeting for a taskforce. To start on a new venture and yes, chart a new chapter in the history of the organization.
While I may dislike the niche I am in, I take great pride in what I do. That can be a paradox, yes. It is just like, maybe you don't believe in democracy but you enjoy being a politician. The two concepts may--I emphasize--be related in a distant sense yes, but they are still related.
Anyhow, let me summarize by saying, it was unpleasant because other people tried to boss me around.
This other person brought in her own group of staff and TOLD me I need not do what my boss had asked me to do.
No, it was not in her capacity to do that. My boss is the chairperson of this whole committee and he had asked me to work together with XX.
It is a complicated story--just know that in the end, I was left feeling upset simply because I had imagined she had doubted my ability. However, after talking (or rather, ranting) to R, I realized she did it for strategic reasons. That other person probably was trying to win my boss' favour.
Will she succeed? I don't know. And I don't really care.
All that matters to me is, if in the end my request to work independently succeeds, then she better pray that my report is substandard to her staff's.
She better pray for that, because I don't want to get the last laugh.
...
And yes, life has been a little tough. Well, not that I am complaining.
Just a couple of week or so ago, a very dear friend L had spoken to me in all honesty and earnestness.
She asked me if I had ever considered thinking about my career seriously and if I were really prepared to settle down.
To really settle down requires a lot of things, I was told.
I remember feeling very upset--and trying very hard not to show it--at the end of the conversation. I wasn't upset at her; I was upset that no matter what I did, I was open to miscomprehension.
My friend had thought I was a little too happy-go-lucky (for lack of a better word) towards the development of a career and she had wanted to remind me to take a more composed attitude. She was speaking from experience, having changed jobs twice and getting into the third one at entry-level and hence, commanding a sizable sum less than her counterparts.
It wasn't like I didn't realize my predicament. I mean, I am totally aware of it.
But is there anything I can do?
Is there anything I can do when the job that I like right now is a contract position, which is based on a renewal term of 1.5 years?
Is there anything I can do when I like research but fail to reach the calibre required of Research Officers in governmental agencies?
Is there anything I can do when I am born stupid, am brought up speaking Mandarin, got a C5 for General Paper and a Second Lower for Honours?
Maybe there is--please let me know!
The truth is, I have been trying very hard.
It is because I am trying so hard which is why I have a full-time job now. Else, I would have been still doing part-time work as before. I like that carefree kind of life.
It is because I am trying so hard which is why I hadn't gone ahead to do the million and one things I badly want to do. I want to save up for my parents.
It is because I am trying so hard that I sometimes get so disappointed with myself and I just tear and cry. I too don't want to be direction-less, but my search has proven to be longer than others.
And yes, I do wish that I know what I am searching for, but the truth is, I don't!
And I am not saying these to gain your sympathy. Nobody deserves anyone's sympathy.
I am just saying this because I hope you can look at me from where I have come--the fact that I have grown--and not where I am.
Because I am never probably going to be nowhere near where you think I should be.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A reason behind the season
It is very hard to dissect the emotions.
While I would have hoped to be there to share in her happiness on that very special day, I am also kind of glad I wasn't invited. I would imagine that it would have been rather awkward. Time would have been difficult to pass. I would have felt lonely.
And yes, that is not what church weddings are supposed to be about.
...
When I met her in Feb this year at another friend's wedding, she had claimed that all those who were present then would be invited to her wedding.
Oh well. I had taken her word for it, and had been anticipating it, with a fretful heart and intense worry.
Fretful heart and intense worry, because I was sure I was going to feel awkward again. Maybe it was my imagination, but the truth stays, untarnished in our memories.
We were very good friends in JC. The four, five of us. But we 'broke up' after that.
We broke up because of my childishness and foolishness. We never patched up.
The last time I met them was a year after we graduate from JC, in a pizza restaurant in the basement of Forum. I remember it had felt awkward. I remember we were friendly strangers.
I, with the four of them.
We never saw each other again after that.
Occasionally I would see Y since we were from the same student group. We won't talk much.
Once in a blue moon, I would chance into N but there aren't really that many blue moons.
Come to think of it, maybe I won't get to see them ever again in this lifetime...except for Y who I probably have to invite to my wedding.
...
It was an unnecessary worry period for me, on my part.
You see, I had taken her word for it, that I would have been invited to her reception and had been worrid because I had not really thought of inviting her to my reception.
So really, I am glad she striked me out of her list.
I would have been happy for her anyhow. We were good friends and we are still, loosely, friends. And I am sure that status will stay for a lifetime.
The fact is, for a while I had been really upset about losing them.
And yes, while I still am, I look forward to the closer friendships I had fostered in exchange, how I had changed because of that misunderstanding.
So really, all things in life happen for a reason.
Some people are really only in your life for a season.
While I would have hoped to be there to share in her happiness on that very special day, I am also kind of glad I wasn't invited. I would imagine that it would have been rather awkward. Time would have been difficult to pass. I would have felt lonely.
And yes, that is not what church weddings are supposed to be about.
...
When I met her in Feb this year at another friend's wedding, she had claimed that all those who were present then would be invited to her wedding.
Oh well. I had taken her word for it, and had been anticipating it, with a fretful heart and intense worry.
Fretful heart and intense worry, because I was sure I was going to feel awkward again. Maybe it was my imagination, but the truth stays, untarnished in our memories.
We were very good friends in JC. The four, five of us. But we 'broke up' after that.
We broke up because of my childishness and foolishness. We never patched up.
The last time I met them was a year after we graduate from JC, in a pizza restaurant in the basement of Forum. I remember it had felt awkward. I remember we were friendly strangers.
I, with the four of them.
We never saw each other again after that.
Occasionally I would see Y since we were from the same student group. We won't talk much.
Once in a blue moon, I would chance into N but there aren't really that many blue moons.
Come to think of it, maybe I won't get to see them ever again in this lifetime...except for Y who I probably have to invite to my wedding.
...
It was an unnecessary worry period for me, on my part.
You see, I had taken her word for it, that I would have been invited to her reception and had been worrid because I had not really thought of inviting her to my reception.
So really, I am glad she striked me out of her list.
I would have been happy for her anyhow. We were good friends and we are still, loosely, friends. And I am sure that status will stay for a lifetime.
The fact is, for a while I had been really upset about losing them.
And yes, while I still am, I look forward to the closer friendships I had fostered in exchange, how I had changed because of that misunderstanding.
So really, all things in life happen for a reason.
Some people are really only in your life for a season.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
If you ask me...
I had the privilege of sitting in N's car last night.
I haven't had much contact with N previously. I do like her as a person. She looks very pleasant, intelligent and she always has all these interesting funny sharings about her experiences with God. But it is just that, she always gave me an impression she doesn't really want to talk to me (maybe it is not me; maybe it is to everyone) so I don't usually dare to take the initiative.
Last night, I learnt that we actually stayed in the same area, which is quite rare! So she offered me a ride and I took the offer.
We had a good chat on the way back.
She asked if I were a teacher...she said I have the teacher face.
I don't know but everyone seems to like to say that. And I really don't know if there is really a characteristic 'teacher face'. I would love to think of it as the intelligent face. (All my teacher friends must be smiling.)
I had shared that I really love writing and I would hope to continue writing as a job/career if I could.
Yes, I really like writing.
She asked me whyI didn't try to be a journalist.
Well, I am not sure if I told you. Before I headed to the university, I tried to apply for a scholarship with the news agency. I went for a writing test... Since then, I haven't dared to imagine having writing as a career anymore.
I do love to write...I don't know if I love it as much as the journalists, but I would think I probably don't write as well.
Whatever.
If you ask me what do I really want to do with my life, frankly, I am clueless.
It is not because I don't think hard enough. I think it is because I think too hard.
Maybe I should just go with the flow, like what Father D did.
I remember his sharing about how there were no revelations from God, no inspiration from scripture, no dreams to prophesize his future, contrary to what we believe.
It was just a stirring of the heart towards a certain way of life, towards a certain sect, to pursue a certain lifestyle.
Stirring of the heart.
So now, if you ask me what do I want to do with my life really, I still have no answer.
But I know two things:
1) I want to be really good in my languages. So I will really concentrate on increasing my profiency in Japanese and Spanish. I want to venture into English-Chinese translation if the opportunity is available (if not, I will pass it).
2) I really want to continue writing, in one way or another. I want to write essays that can be published in newspapers, reflections that will get people thinking.
I think that is enough for now.
And you'd probably realized, I have decided too, not to forever be a Jack of all trades and a Master of none.
I haven't had much contact with N previously. I do like her as a person. She looks very pleasant, intelligent and she always has all these interesting funny sharings about her experiences with God. But it is just that, she always gave me an impression she doesn't really want to talk to me (maybe it is not me; maybe it is to everyone) so I don't usually dare to take the initiative.
Last night, I learnt that we actually stayed in the same area, which is quite rare! So she offered me a ride and I took the offer.
We had a good chat on the way back.
She asked if I were a teacher...she said I have the teacher face.
I don't know but everyone seems to like to say that. And I really don't know if there is really a characteristic 'teacher face'. I would love to think of it as the intelligent face. (All my teacher friends must be smiling.)
I had shared that I really love writing and I would hope to continue writing as a job/career if I could.
Yes, I really like writing.
She asked me whyI didn't try to be a journalist.
Well, I am not sure if I told you. Before I headed to the university, I tried to apply for a scholarship with the news agency. I went for a writing test... Since then, I haven't dared to imagine having writing as a career anymore.
I do love to write...I don't know if I love it as much as the journalists, but I would think I probably don't write as well.
Whatever.
If you ask me what do I really want to do with my life, frankly, I am clueless.
It is not because I don't think hard enough. I think it is because I think too hard.
Maybe I should just go with the flow, like what Father D did.
I remember his sharing about how there were no revelations from God, no inspiration from scripture, no dreams to prophesize his future, contrary to what we believe.
It was just a stirring of the heart towards a certain way of life, towards a certain sect, to pursue a certain lifestyle.
Stirring of the heart.
So now, if you ask me what do I want to do with my life really, I still have no answer.
But I know two things:
1) I want to be really good in my languages. So I will really concentrate on increasing my profiency in Japanese and Spanish. I want to venture into English-Chinese translation if the opportunity is available (if not, I will pass it).
2) I really want to continue writing, in one way or another. I want to write essays that can be published in newspapers, reflections that will get people thinking.
I think that is enough for now.
And you'd probably realized, I have decided too, not to forever be a Jack of all trades and a Master of none.
Y says to me "Dance when you have the chance"
As of what I have last heard, C has been retrenched.
I remember my reaction was just an open mouth and dropped jaw. How can so much possibly happen in such a short span of time?
How can he be rejected one moment by HDB because in his own words, their combined incomes are too high to apply for a flat, and then the next moment, being out of a job together with his wife?
Yes, they are both retrenched. I find that pretty hard to believe.
Maybe I take things for granted. The job. The money. And the life that I have.
...
On Monday, the Salsa gang met up in E's house to practise Rueda. We are going to perform in her wedding.
It is a fun activity for me because I think it is a blessing to be able to dance for a friend on such a special occasion.
The fact is, E had earlier approaches R and me to do a swing dance. E loves swing music and dances swing too. But R had declined, to my disappointment.
Just as I would have hoped that he would perform with me in a good friend's wedding, I would rather not force him to do anything against his will.
The way I imagine it, he would not force me to do anything against my will.
Anyhow, the practice turned out fine in the end, although initially, it was really quite messy. I guess lunch gave our shuffling feet and cloudy minds a boost of energy.
I am really looking forward to her wedding dinner!
...
The way I see it, life can be pretty unpredictable.
Well, not that we don't already know it. I know you know it. I know I know it. I know we all know it.
We just tend to, yes, take things for granted.
There is an audition in October and I keep hesitating about whether to go or not.
For me, I am always afraid of 'malu-ing' myself. I am afraid that I cannot catch up with the routine. I am afraid that I will look clumsy.
I am afraid that people will laugh at me. I am afraid of being ridiculed.
But all those are only thoughts in my head, I am sure.
Like a casual performance at a friend's wedding, I am sure people see the courage and the effort more than the execution of the moves itself.
They see the sincerity. They see the desire. They see the heart.
But even if they don't see that, who cares? Why should I be so bothered about what people see?
I don't know how long I can keep dancing--Face it: I am not a professional. Some day, some other commitments will creep into the picture to claim top priority. And especially when I am getting married next year, how much more time can I self-centredly put in dancing?
So if life is so short, and so unpredictable, I should really just dance when I have the chance.
I remember my reaction was just an open mouth and dropped jaw. How can so much possibly happen in such a short span of time?
How can he be rejected one moment by HDB because in his own words, their combined incomes are too high to apply for a flat, and then the next moment, being out of a job together with his wife?
Yes, they are both retrenched. I find that pretty hard to believe.
Maybe I take things for granted. The job. The money. And the life that I have.
...
On Monday, the Salsa gang met up in E's house to practise Rueda. We are going to perform in her wedding.
It is a fun activity for me because I think it is a blessing to be able to dance for a friend on such a special occasion.
The fact is, E had earlier approaches R and me to do a swing dance. E loves swing music and dances swing too. But R had declined, to my disappointment.
Just as I would have hoped that he would perform with me in a good friend's wedding, I would rather not force him to do anything against his will.
The way I imagine it, he would not force me to do anything against my will.
Anyhow, the practice turned out fine in the end, although initially, it was really quite messy. I guess lunch gave our shuffling feet and cloudy minds a boost of energy.
I am really looking forward to her wedding dinner!
...
The way I see it, life can be pretty unpredictable.
Well, not that we don't already know it. I know you know it. I know I know it. I know we all know it.
We just tend to, yes, take things for granted.
There is an audition in October and I keep hesitating about whether to go or not.
For me, I am always afraid of 'malu-ing' myself. I am afraid that I cannot catch up with the routine. I am afraid that I will look clumsy.
I am afraid that people will laugh at me. I am afraid of being ridiculed.
But all those are only thoughts in my head, I am sure.
Like a casual performance at a friend's wedding, I am sure people see the courage and the effort more than the execution of the moves itself.
They see the sincerity. They see the desire. They see the heart.
But even if they don't see that, who cares? Why should I be so bothered about what people see?
I don't know how long I can keep dancing--Face it: I am not a professional. Some day, some other commitments will creep into the picture to claim top priority. And especially when I am getting married next year, how much more time can I self-centredly put in dancing?
So if life is so short, and so unpredictable, I should really just dance when I have the chance.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sense and insensitivity
As of today, I need to work on being less sensitive.
Because I have been told--I am rather, too sensitive. Which I am not sure if it is true or not...but I will take that to be the case for now, because else, as what I have been told, I would be very miserable.
Sensitivity and paranoia are just a line apart. I think I may be becoming more of the latter unknowingly and tipping the balance.
...
In an attempt to involve my parents in my wedding preparation, I had told them excitedly that the wedding cake which my cousin sent 4 months ago cost $6.80.
I don't know what you think of it, but it was JUST a comment on my part.
I had wanted to update my parents on the wedding cakes issue...that was the opening line.
But their reaction was totally alarming, at least to me.
"WHY ARE YOU SO STINGY?" came their unanimous reply.
Huh? I wasn't sure what stinginess had to do with it.
All I know is that I feel hurt inside.
I shared this story with N and asked for her opinion.
That was her reply--I was too sensitive for my own good.
Was that really the case?
I don't know. I only know that my intentions --if I were really sensitive--were good. I didn't want myself to be an A**hole or a pain in the neck. I didn't want to be totally oblivious of what others thought of me.
Maybe, maybe, I wanted to be an angel. That is clearly not in my conscious mind, but it could be lurking in my subconscious.
...
And so, I shall stop trying to be so sensitive.
Although I am not sure how successful I will be.
But I will try.
Because I have been told--I am rather, too sensitive. Which I am not sure if it is true or not...but I will take that to be the case for now, because else, as what I have been told, I would be very miserable.
Sensitivity and paranoia are just a line apart. I think I may be becoming more of the latter unknowingly and tipping the balance.
...
In an attempt to involve my parents in my wedding preparation, I had told them excitedly that the wedding cake which my cousin sent 4 months ago cost $6.80.
I don't know what you think of it, but it was JUST a comment on my part.
I had wanted to update my parents on the wedding cakes issue...that was the opening line.
But their reaction was totally alarming, at least to me.
"WHY ARE YOU SO STINGY?" came their unanimous reply.
Huh? I wasn't sure what stinginess had to do with it.
All I know is that I feel hurt inside.
I shared this story with N and asked for her opinion.
That was her reply--I was too sensitive for my own good.
Was that really the case?
I don't know. I only know that my intentions --if I were really sensitive--were good. I didn't want myself to be an A**hole or a pain in the neck. I didn't want to be totally oblivious of what others thought of me.
Maybe, maybe, I wanted to be an angel. That is clearly not in my conscious mind, but it could be lurking in my subconscious.
...
And so, I shall stop trying to be so sensitive.
Although I am not sure how successful I will be.
But I will try.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A Retreat into wait and hope
I have just returned from a retreat over the weekend. It was a retreat for the choir which I am in, and I must confess I had second thoughts about going initially. Simply because, I am really not that close to anyone, and I am really afraid of being left out. But I decided to take a gamble to go for it.
...
I am glad I did.
Because while the initial sessions (the whole retreat is divided into various sessions) wasn't that great, it slowly built up to a climax that moved me to tears.
Yes, quite literally.
It is funny, because I had seen that particular cartoon (not animated, just a 2-D cartoon) at least twice, but I hadn't been this moved.
I was so moved until I was weeping.
And it is just an oxy-moron cartoon--you've probably seen it--called 'The Cross'.
The cartoon starts off with a lot of people carrying their crosses. Evidently, it is heavy.
It zooms in on one character--that's supposed to be you--which then comments "Lord, it is too heavy. Please cut it down a little."
The character proceeded to cut it himself.
He continued on for a distance before sheepishly looking up again, saying "Lord, please cut it a little more. I will be able to carry it better..."
And he cut the cross more himself.
He walked on and reached a valley. He wasn't sure how he should cross it. He stood there...as everyone else proceeded to lay the cross across the valley to move to the other side.
He sat down, exasperated.
...
I thought it was a powerful message then...because it spoke right to my heart.
We all experience struggles in life. Often, we think we can't continue anymore.
But actually, that is not true. We can continue, if we just continue.
Please do not get the impression it is a passive state of mere waiting, because that is not the case.
In that act alone lies perseverance, surrender and courage.
...
I especially like L's sharing about her family plight.
She has been in the same company for 20 plus years. In that span of a fifth of a century, she has only been promoted once.
All the time she shared, I kept wondering if my plight is a microscale of hers.
But she has hung on in her job because her husband hadn't been able to keep his, and she needed the job to provide for the family.
For fifteen years, she has been very angry. She has been resentful. She has been disappointed.
I am not sure if I can ever emphatize because that alone, hanging on for twenty-plus years is just seemingly impossible.
But now, she has turned that negative energy all into positive vibes. She is thankful that she has been able to bring food to the table. She is glad that the family is still intact together.
On Saturday, they celebrated their 20-plus-th wedding anniversary.
And all I see is courage and strength.
...
So I am really thankful I went for the retreat.
Because as of now, I feel recharged. I guess that is what retreats are supposed to do to you.
And I hold this message dear to my heart: That I not clamour for anything.
I will just keep on walking. And wait as I walk.
...
I am glad I did.
Because while the initial sessions (the whole retreat is divided into various sessions) wasn't that great, it slowly built up to a climax that moved me to tears.
Yes, quite literally.
It is funny, because I had seen that particular cartoon (not animated, just a 2-D cartoon) at least twice, but I hadn't been this moved.
I was so moved until I was weeping.
And it is just an oxy-moron cartoon--you've probably seen it--called 'The Cross'.
The cartoon starts off with a lot of people carrying their crosses. Evidently, it is heavy.
It zooms in on one character--that's supposed to be you--which then comments "Lord, it is too heavy. Please cut it down a little."
The character proceeded to cut it himself.
He continued on for a distance before sheepishly looking up again, saying "Lord, please cut it a little more. I will be able to carry it better..."
And he cut the cross more himself.
He walked on and reached a valley. He wasn't sure how he should cross it. He stood there...as everyone else proceeded to lay the cross across the valley to move to the other side.
He sat down, exasperated.
...
I thought it was a powerful message then...because it spoke right to my heart.
We all experience struggles in life. Often, we think we can't continue anymore.
But actually, that is not true. We can continue, if we just continue.
Please do not get the impression it is a passive state of mere waiting, because that is not the case.
In that act alone lies perseverance, surrender and courage.
...
I especially like L's sharing about her family plight.
She has been in the same company for 20 plus years. In that span of a fifth of a century, she has only been promoted once.
All the time she shared, I kept wondering if my plight is a microscale of hers.
But she has hung on in her job because her husband hadn't been able to keep his, and she needed the job to provide for the family.
For fifteen years, she has been very angry. She has been resentful. She has been disappointed.
I am not sure if I can ever emphatize because that alone, hanging on for twenty-plus years is just seemingly impossible.
But now, she has turned that negative energy all into positive vibes. She is thankful that she has been able to bring food to the table. She is glad that the family is still intact together.
On Saturday, they celebrated their 20-plus-th wedding anniversary.
And all I see is courage and strength.
...
So I am really thankful I went for the retreat.
Because as of now, I feel recharged. I guess that is what retreats are supposed to do to you.
And I hold this message dear to my heart: That I not clamour for anything.
I will just keep on walking. And wait as I walk.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Opting out
It is Friday, the last day of the week. I feel a little relieved, but it is just a little a little.
It is again another busy weekend awaiting.
Today, I rush home to go for a retreat, and I won't return home till Sunday, after which I have Tango classes in the evening.
And yes, that means my house chores are undone. That means I have to make sure I still have the energy to iron my clothes after dinner and do my laundry after I have done the ironing.
Those thoughts alone make me want to take MC on Monday.
I think I have this cycle constantly repeating: A senang weekend, and I feel too bored. I cramp my schedule up, and I feel that I need space. And then the cycle repeats, and repeats.
I never learn my mistakes.
I guess I like the caged life of a hamster.
...
The week has been a pretty calm one. No big disasters or big conflicts. Life just takes a normal step at one time.
That is good.
There has been issues to settle though. Tough ones.
R and I got a ticket to choose a flat in the BTO series. Due to some unforeseen circumstances on our sides, we are contemplating if we should give up this ticket.
And mind you, it is a good number.
While it hasn't been me initiating the decision to ballot for a flat, I was totally taken aback by his suggestion of opting out.
We are still praying about it.
The way I see it: we should just keep the number and get the place, not because I can definitely pay for it, but because it is just a matter of time before we get into such a situation again. So why not now than later? Why not now when we have the assets of time and energy?
And then there is my parents' annuity issue to settle.
Yes, that is a heavy burden, so heavy that sometimes I wish I had a choice to opt out of it. Like the ticket.
But of course, I can't do that.
I don't know if I ever told you but my parents know nothing about financial planning.
They have no savings. Their CPF is meagre. They have nothing except for the flat unit that I am staying in. Naturally then, it is me since my brother has proven time and again he is not trustworthy. I too wish he is, but he hasn't proven me wrong otherwise.
So I have really been working very hard, not so much for myself, but for them.
I am sorry if I sound like I am ranting--I am really not in the best of moods today, even though yes, I am thankful that it is Friday.
I am thankful it is Friday because I can finally take a break from my work, which is just miserably ... unpromisingly boring, for lack of a better word.
And it is ok if it is boring. I have learnt that most jobs are.
Type a document. Gosh. That can be boring.
Prepare a report. Gosh. That can be boring.
Write a speech. Gosh. That can be boring too!
Life can be boring, I accept that.
It is only when life gets unpromising that makes one lose heart.
Ever since that little episode about those seemingly insignificant lesson plans which I have taken so much heart to prepare, I have become very disconcerted.
Just how much am my efforts worth?
And I am not talking in monetary terms.
But the irony of the situation right now is, since I can't get the things I want, all I can do is to grit my teeth here.
And I can't help but wonder what I should look forward to. Is there anything to even look forward to?
(I bet there is--I am sure I will find it when my mood gets better.)
Can I opt out of the freedom of free will?
Can't God just mandate me what I should do next?
It is again another busy weekend awaiting.
Today, I rush home to go for a retreat, and I won't return home till Sunday, after which I have Tango classes in the evening.
And yes, that means my house chores are undone. That means I have to make sure I still have the energy to iron my clothes after dinner and do my laundry after I have done the ironing.
Those thoughts alone make me want to take MC on Monday.
I think I have this cycle constantly repeating: A senang weekend, and I feel too bored. I cramp my schedule up, and I feel that I need space. And then the cycle repeats, and repeats.
I never learn my mistakes.
I guess I like the caged life of a hamster.
...
The week has been a pretty calm one. No big disasters or big conflicts. Life just takes a normal step at one time.
That is good.
There has been issues to settle though. Tough ones.
R and I got a ticket to choose a flat in the BTO series. Due to some unforeseen circumstances on our sides, we are contemplating if we should give up this ticket.
And mind you, it is a good number.
While it hasn't been me initiating the decision to ballot for a flat, I was totally taken aback by his suggestion of opting out.
We are still praying about it.
The way I see it: we should just keep the number and get the place, not because I can definitely pay for it, but because it is just a matter of time before we get into such a situation again. So why not now than later? Why not now when we have the assets of time and energy?
And then there is my parents' annuity issue to settle.
Yes, that is a heavy burden, so heavy that sometimes I wish I had a choice to opt out of it. Like the ticket.
But of course, I can't do that.
I don't know if I ever told you but my parents know nothing about financial planning.
They have no savings. Their CPF is meagre. They have nothing except for the flat unit that I am staying in. Naturally then, it is me since my brother has proven time and again he is not trustworthy. I too wish he is, but he hasn't proven me wrong otherwise.
So I have really been working very hard, not so much for myself, but for them.
I am sorry if I sound like I am ranting--I am really not in the best of moods today, even though yes, I am thankful that it is Friday.
I am thankful it is Friday because I can finally take a break from my work, which is just miserably ... unpromisingly boring, for lack of a better word.
And it is ok if it is boring. I have learnt that most jobs are.
Type a document. Gosh. That can be boring.
Prepare a report. Gosh. That can be boring.
Write a speech. Gosh. That can be boring too!
Life can be boring, I accept that.
It is only when life gets unpromising that makes one lose heart.
Ever since that little episode about those seemingly insignificant lesson plans which I have taken so much heart to prepare, I have become very disconcerted.
Just how much am my efforts worth?
And I am not talking in monetary terms.
But the irony of the situation right now is, since I can't get the things I want, all I can do is to grit my teeth here.
And I can't help but wonder what I should look forward to. Is there anything to even look forward to?
(I bet there is--I am sure I will find it when my mood gets better.)
Can I opt out of the freedom of free will?
Can't God just mandate me what I should do next?
Friday, September 4, 2009
Not flying...no wings!
As I write this entry, I am still contending with disappointment.
Even though 1) I know it is a part of life 2) I wasn't very confident in the first place 3) I am not in reality as disappointed as I thought I would be, I am still feeling it a lot.
I didn't get through to the first round of the Chinese programme.
...
Everybody had thought that I stood a very big chance.
Chinese is my first language. I took Higher Chinese all the way until Pre-U. I have a distinction in the Special Paper. I have a Diploma in teaching Chinese as a foreign language. I have done so well in my HSK that I have been awarded a one-month scholarship by Hanban.
Ain't I competent enough?
I am sorry--I can't answer that.
I can't answer that because at this point in time, I am left wondering what I can do. What am I competent in?
...
My busmate asked me why ain't I in some high-flying garmen job.
I told her I am not good enough.
My colleague asked me why ain't I trying to land myself in some right-hand man position.
I said the same thing.
The motivational speakers will tell you to believe in yourself! Trust that you can achieve greater things. Aspire and you will get it!
Right.
If we all can do that so easily, the motivational speakers will be out of a job.
....
I am really sick of aiming high and getting nothing.
But I really don't know what I can do to flap my wings.
D$%^ it...
maybe I haven't got any wings in the first place.
Even though 1) I know it is a part of life 2) I wasn't very confident in the first place 3) I am not in reality as disappointed as I thought I would be, I am still feeling it a lot.
I didn't get through to the first round of the Chinese programme.
...
Everybody had thought that I stood a very big chance.
Chinese is my first language. I took Higher Chinese all the way until Pre-U. I have a distinction in the Special Paper. I have a Diploma in teaching Chinese as a foreign language. I have done so well in my HSK that I have been awarded a one-month scholarship by Hanban.
Ain't I competent enough?
I am sorry--I can't answer that.
I can't answer that because at this point in time, I am left wondering what I can do. What am I competent in?
...
My busmate asked me why ain't I in some high-flying garmen job.
I told her I am not good enough.
My colleague asked me why ain't I trying to land myself in some right-hand man position.
I said the same thing.
The motivational speakers will tell you to believe in yourself! Trust that you can achieve greater things. Aspire and you will get it!
Right.
If we all can do that so easily, the motivational speakers will be out of a job.
....
I am really sick of aiming high and getting nothing.
But I really don't know what I can do to flap my wings.
D$%^ it...
maybe I haven't got any wings in the first place.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The money will shut me up...
Time seems to pass pretty quickly today.
But I would assume it didn't actually pass faster. After all, it is always constant.
The only logical explanation is, when we busy ourselves with things, we tend to minimize the moments we look up to the clock. When the lapse between moments decrease (in comparison to when we are free and we keep looking up). time suddenly seem to have passed faster.
...
For the last 2 weeks leading up to today (and possibly for the next week), I have been doing brainless work.
I say brainless because there is no need to think, at all.
No, I am not saying it in a stuck-up manner; I am not saying I am so clever until everything is too easy for me. I am merely reflecting to you the actual scenario.
For the past few weeks, I have been copying his transparencies into powerpoint slides. How brain-taxing can that be?
And all these transparencies are that from a private venture my boss is in earlier.
So really, don't ask me what I am doing? I am, not even sure myself!
But I guess, if I have a choice, I would rather be doing this.
Yes.
....
I don't know if I have told you, but I have developed some modules.
And please note how I have phrased it--I hadn't elaborated on whether it is in my scope of work. There is no need to touch on that. Whatever it is, just know that I have developed some modules.
But while I should be happy that they are used (my colleague encountered some problems formatting and asked for my help and I saw the contents), I was feeling more of upset than gladness.
Somebody is obviously feeling guilty--I was asked to amend the layout of the document to make it more presentable to the selection committee. And now that it has been accepted, someone else has been tasked to modify the layout, changing the page number and adding in the crafter's name.
Which is not my name.
And of course, we can all argue about how I am paid a salary to do all this work. How the modules wouldn't be incorporated had it not been for the salary I am paid. We are all right in our own ways, I am sure.
So my question would be, then wasn't the instructor paid as well? Then why is he not the one crafting the module? Why make someone else do it?
....
There is a serious problem with the way things are done here.
The fact is, I still can't get over the 'practice' of calling worthy competitors up for interviews when there is already a designated candidate who has a 90% chance of clinching the position.
Aiyah..whatever whatever. I am paid. Period.
Yes, I am paid, so I should just do my work and shut up.
But you know what--suddenly, I can't help feeling glad that I am not a permanent staff.
But I would assume it didn't actually pass faster. After all, it is always constant.
The only logical explanation is, when we busy ourselves with things, we tend to minimize the moments we look up to the clock. When the lapse between moments decrease (in comparison to when we are free and we keep looking up). time suddenly seem to have passed faster.
...
For the last 2 weeks leading up to today (and possibly for the next week), I have been doing brainless work.
I say brainless because there is no need to think, at all.
No, I am not saying it in a stuck-up manner; I am not saying I am so clever until everything is too easy for me. I am merely reflecting to you the actual scenario.
For the past few weeks, I have been copying his transparencies into powerpoint slides. How brain-taxing can that be?
And all these transparencies are that from a private venture my boss is in earlier.
So really, don't ask me what I am doing? I am, not even sure myself!
But I guess, if I have a choice, I would rather be doing this.
Yes.
....
I don't know if I have told you, but I have developed some modules.
And please note how I have phrased it--I hadn't elaborated on whether it is in my scope of work. There is no need to touch on that. Whatever it is, just know that I have developed some modules.
But while I should be happy that they are used (my colleague encountered some problems formatting and asked for my help and I saw the contents), I was feeling more of upset than gladness.
Somebody is obviously feeling guilty--I was asked to amend the layout of the document to make it more presentable to the selection committee. And now that it has been accepted, someone else has been tasked to modify the layout, changing the page number and adding in the crafter's name.
Which is not my name.
And of course, we can all argue about how I am paid a salary to do all this work. How the modules wouldn't be incorporated had it not been for the salary I am paid. We are all right in our own ways, I am sure.
Just as how somebody hasn't even the integrity to at least acknowledge my division as the crafter. It wouldn't be as maddening.
So my question would be, then wasn't the instructor paid as well? Then why is he not the one crafting the module? Why make someone else do it?
....
There is a serious problem with the way things are done here.
The fact is, I still can't get over the 'practice' of calling worthy competitors up for interviews when there is already a designated candidate who has a 90% chance of clinching the position.
Aiyah..whatever whatever. I am paid. Period.
Yes, I am paid, so I should just do my work and shut up.
But you know what--suddenly, I can't help feeling glad that I am not a permanent staff.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Keep the faith...
I have heard snippets of this song a few times but it was only when I heard it playing in someone else's play list that I realized the title: The Climb. I chanced on it innocently enough, when I was in a conversation with H and I shared on how I still had some personal thoughts/uncertainties to resolve.
Singer: Miley Cyrus
I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it"
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking
But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high
There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going
And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on
'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb, yeah!
There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Somebody's gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb, yeah!
Keep on moving, keep climbing
Keep the faith, baby
It's all about, it's all about the climb
Keep the faith, keep your faith, whoa
I asked H if she had any regrets so far.
She said, not quite, apart for the occasional time which she felt she could have tried harder on certain things when she was younger.
Ah-huh...younger. That sentiment, I too have.
And I do wish I have her easy-going positive spirit too.
...
I must be too free at work, you say, to have time for thoughts like that.
G likes to say I have an easy time at work. And my reply would be, if life were more stressful, then I would be paid much more.
He can't answer to that.
I wonder if my search will yearn any answers though.
Guess I can only keep the faith.
Singer: Miley Cyrus
I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it"
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking
But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high
There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going
And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on
'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb, yeah!
There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Somebody's gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb, yeah!
Keep on moving, keep climbing
Keep the faith, baby
It's all about, it's all about the climb
Keep the faith, keep your faith, whoa
I asked H if she had any regrets so far.
She said, not quite, apart for the occasional time which she felt she could have tried harder on certain things when she was younger.
Ah-huh...younger. That sentiment, I too have.
And I do wish I have her easy-going positive spirit too.
...
I must be too free at work, you say, to have time for thoughts like that.
G likes to say I have an easy time at work. And my reply would be, if life were more stressful, then I would be paid much more.
He can't answer to that.
I wonder if my search will yearn any answers though.
Guess I can only keep the faith.
Feeling stupid and I don't know why.
R said after doing it more times, freezing shouldn't happen to me in class anymore.
I don't know if that is true.
I only know that it always happen in E's class. I mean, it also happens in others' classes, like M's. But it always always happen in E's class.
Maybe it is because in his class, I always feel very incompetent.
I always feel useless and stupid in his class.
...
I shared with G just now that ironically, I seem to enjoy doing things that make me feel stupid.
I enjoy language classes, but they always make me feel stupid.
Well, as a matter of fact, I just got my test results. Most of my classmates scored 90+. I scored the mirror image.
And that adds to it, I guess, although I mus confess I was rather contented with the results.
I enjoy dance classes. Hip hop, Jazz, and all.
But they make me feel stupid too.
I kind of think it is an inferiority complex thing. Something that I can't seem to run away from.
Something that I thought I would have been able to overcome, but in actual fact no.
...
I must say I am still feeling a little lost right now.
Y says it is usual; we all go through phases like that.
But really, sometimes, I can't help feeling I wish I were someone else.
I wish I were C, who can commit all her time to herself and not worry about her parents because they are self-sufficient, and hence indulge in dance.
I wish I were L, who is the youngest in the family, who has everyone's support to carve out her own career in dance.
I wish I were D, who had started dancing at the age of 6, danced all the way from secondary school to university.
I wish I were anyone else but myself and I don't know why.
...
The fact is, I do enjoy the break from church.
I don't mean it to say that I don't like church. I do...it's just that I also enjoy the break to do my own things, to have a carefree Sunday like yesterday.
I woke up, went for Mass in the early morning, went for E's dance class, did my groceries, went home to clear up a bit, met R to meet the Father.
Then I had dinner, did my ironing and my laundry.
All in a day's work. And I do enjoy that.
...
Y says I need to heal myself. I think so too.
I need to stop wishing I were someone else.
I need to see beyond the surface of others and look into myself.
I need to appreciate my strengths and my personality and acknowledge myself.
I need to stop feeling I am stupid.
Because I am not.
I don't know if that is true.
I only know that it always happen in E's class. I mean, it also happens in others' classes, like M's. But it always always happen in E's class.
Maybe it is because in his class, I always feel very incompetent.
I always feel useless and stupid in his class.
...
I shared with G just now that ironically, I seem to enjoy doing things that make me feel stupid.
I enjoy language classes, but they always make me feel stupid.
Well, as a matter of fact, I just got my test results. Most of my classmates scored 90+. I scored the mirror image.
And that adds to it, I guess, although I mus confess I was rather contented with the results.
I enjoy dance classes. Hip hop, Jazz, and all.
But they make me feel stupid too.
I kind of think it is an inferiority complex thing. Something that I can't seem to run away from.
Something that I thought I would have been able to overcome, but in actual fact no.
...
I must say I am still feeling a little lost right now.
Y says it is usual; we all go through phases like that.
But really, sometimes, I can't help feeling I wish I were someone else.
I wish I were C, who can commit all her time to herself and not worry about her parents because they are self-sufficient, and hence indulge in dance.
I wish I were L, who is the youngest in the family, who has everyone's support to carve out her own career in dance.
I wish I were D, who had started dancing at the age of 6, danced all the way from secondary school to university.
I wish I were anyone else but myself and I don't know why.
...
The fact is, I do enjoy the break from church.
I don't mean it to say that I don't like church. I do...it's just that I also enjoy the break to do my own things, to have a carefree Sunday like yesterday.
I woke up, went for Mass in the early morning, went for E's dance class, did my groceries, went home to clear up a bit, met R to meet the Father.
Then I had dinner, did my ironing and my laundry.
All in a day's work. And I do enjoy that.
...
Y says I need to heal myself. I think so too.
I need to stop wishing I were someone else.
I need to see beyond the surface of others and look into myself.
I need to appreciate my strengths and my personality and acknowledge myself.
I need to stop feeling I am stupid.
Because I am not.
Friday, August 14, 2009
I want to be an expert
I thought I should record this little milestone.
Well, it is not exactly the most appropriate date, but I think it is almost a safe estimation.
...
My resume so far has a record of 8-mth job stints.
As of today, I can say that I have almost broken that record. The end of the month will mark the 8th month (but you see, the reason why I say today is a safe estimation is because, even if I suddenly decide *touchwood!* to tender on Monday, I would have worked for 9 months already).
My previous prospective employers have harped on it hard.
Everyone has been quick to jump to the conclusion that I like job hopping. I can't take challenges. I need a constant fresh environment.
Whatever.
So well, when I decided to apply to this place (where I am now), I told myself I must hang on no matter what.
Even if it sucked.
Even if it bores the hell out of me.
Just because I need to break out of that job-hopper label.
...
That day, I woke up feeling that my world is without meaning and without hope.
It is a funny feeling to have, funnier when you wake up with it!
The last thing I remember was I had decided I will not join the performance company.
I really do want to join it, from the bottom of my heart....but not so much of the desire to shine on stage though, more so because it can help me improve.
I really want to be -better- in it. Better is the word.
The fact is, I am really sick of being a jack-of-all-trades and a master-of-none.
But of course, as R has pointed out, it is not like joining the performance company will make me a master. I am probably too inflexible too late.
And he says there are other things I should devote to, if I want to uphold my argument of becoming a "master", like languages, for example.
So in his opinion, my argument is flawed.
Oh well...probably.
...
Actually, it is all about the notion of opportunity.
My colleague E told me that I was worthy of bigger responsibilities. She felt I have the calibre to land some high-flying position like a CEO's right hand (wo)man or something. My colleague P said that I am extremely versatile and will have no problem landing a job after my contract ends.
The irony is, while I also do feel that I am capable, it clearly doesn't seem to be the case.
And I realize I am beginning to doubt my own capabilities.
I aim high....but all I get are lallangs. I don't get to park on big Primary forest trees.
I try to look far out but all I see is the small ridden track in front of me. I don't see any green pastures or the deep sea.
And it is tiring because everyone thinks I am just an happy-go-lucky being who doesn't care the least where I am going. Who doesn't care about finances. Who doesn't care about my future.
Who squanders my time off doing nothing constructive.
But that is not true.
I don't.
...
The truth is that--I don't know what I am looking for.
I don't have a specific destination in mind, like an occupation or the sort.
All I want, all I really want, is a vocation that can bring me an inner satisfaction. It is not about the job; it is the challenges of the position and the fulfillment.
And yes, that can be elusive.
Whatever. Maybe I am not sure myself.
But one thing I am very sure: I do want myself to become an expert.
In something.
In anything.
Well, it is not exactly the most appropriate date, but I think it is almost a safe estimation.
...
My resume so far has a record of 8-mth job stints.
As of today, I can say that I have almost broken that record. The end of the month will mark the 8th month (but you see, the reason why I say today is a safe estimation is because, even if I suddenly decide *touchwood!* to tender on Monday, I would have worked for 9 months already).
My previous prospective employers have harped on it hard.
Everyone has been quick to jump to the conclusion that I like job hopping. I can't take challenges. I need a constant fresh environment.
Whatever.
So well, when I decided to apply to this place (where I am now), I told myself I must hang on no matter what.
Even if it sucked.
Even if it bores the hell out of me.
Just because I need to break out of that job-hopper label.
...
That day, I woke up feeling that my world is without meaning and without hope.
It is a funny feeling to have, funnier when you wake up with it!
The last thing I remember was I had decided I will not join the performance company.
I really do want to join it, from the bottom of my heart....but not so much of the desire to shine on stage though, more so because it can help me improve.
I really want to be -better- in it. Better is the word.
The fact is, I am really sick of being a jack-of-all-trades and a master-of-none.
But of course, as R has pointed out, it is not like joining the performance company will make me a master. I am probably too inflexible too late.
And he says there are other things I should devote to, if I want to uphold my argument of becoming a "master", like languages, for example.
So in his opinion, my argument is flawed.
Oh well...probably.
...
Actually, it is all about the notion of opportunity.
My colleague E told me that I was worthy of bigger responsibilities. She felt I have the calibre to land some high-flying position like a CEO's right hand (wo)man or something. My colleague P said that I am extremely versatile and will have no problem landing a job after my contract ends.
The irony is, while I also do feel that I am capable, it clearly doesn't seem to be the case.
And I realize I am beginning to doubt my own capabilities.
I aim high....but all I get are lallangs. I don't get to park on big Primary forest trees.
I try to look far out but all I see is the small ridden track in front of me. I don't see any green pastures or the deep sea.
And it is tiring because everyone thinks I am just an happy-go-lucky being who doesn't care the least where I am going. Who doesn't care about finances. Who doesn't care about my future.
Who squanders my time off doing nothing constructive.
But that is not true.
I don't.
...
The truth is that--I don't know what I am looking for.
I don't have a specific destination in mind, like an occupation or the sort.
All I want, all I really want, is a vocation that can bring me an inner satisfaction. It is not about the job; it is the challenges of the position and the fulfillment.
And yes, that can be elusive.
Whatever. Maybe I am not sure myself.
But one thing I am very sure: I do want myself to become an expert.
In something.
In anything.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Something worth taking away
LeeAnn Womack has a song "Something worth leaving behind" which describes about one's legacy when one dies.
I like that song very much.
...
It is still some time away from my wedding but I have decided to start clearing up my rubbish and packing what I need.
That was what I did (tried to do) yesterday. Within the 2 hours of window I had.
My parents have been very generous to me. I am allocated a lot of space in the house. But because of that, I keep more things than I need.
Some of them are of sentimental value--like my secondary school notebooks.
Some of them are just memoirs of an age--like the diaries I used to keep.
There were also many textbooks. Mostly bought during my University days, all of which I couldn't bear to throw (give) away other than that thick, gross Molecular Biology of the Cell and the photostated textbooks on Immunology.
Clearly, you can probably appreciate why I didn't do so well in Biology.
...
But if I were to be bringing only certain things over to R's place, I must be selective.
I wasn't having my own apartment. I couldn't bring everything over.
All I was going to get--if I am lucky, and I do hope I will be lucky--is one section of the book shelf, one part of the cabinet, and some space for my many storage boxes.
I can't be more thankful.
So as I was ploughing through the many things, I was thinking very hard about what I would be bringing over.
And I was reminded of the song.
Sure, I wasn't at a point of deciding what kind of legacy to leave behind but I needed to decide what I would take away with me.
My present house is a storage space literally. I keep my clothes, my food, my books...everything I need inside.
But when I can't take the house with me, what would I choose to take away, and what would I choose to leave behind?
...
So far, I have packed away one box. In it contains two Neuroscience textbooks, and many diaries.
Frankly, as I type now, I am inclined to re-pack that box.
Diaries, yes. But Neuroscience textbooks? It is not like I will ever do it again. Anymore.
*thinks hard*
Yes. I think it is more worthwhile taking the Chinese Dictionary away instead.
I like that song very much.
...
It is still some time away from my wedding but I have decided to start clearing up my rubbish and packing what I need.
That was what I did (tried to do) yesterday. Within the 2 hours of window I had.
My parents have been very generous to me. I am allocated a lot of space in the house. But because of that, I keep more things than I need.
Some of them are of sentimental value--like my secondary school notebooks.
Some of them are just memoirs of an age--like the diaries I used to keep.
There were also many textbooks. Mostly bought during my University days, all of which I couldn't bear to throw (give) away other than that thick, gross Molecular Biology of the Cell and the photostated textbooks on Immunology.
Clearly, you can probably appreciate why I didn't do so well in Biology.
...
But if I were to be bringing only certain things over to R's place, I must be selective.
I wasn't having my own apartment. I couldn't bring everything over.
All I was going to get--if I am lucky, and I do hope I will be lucky--is one section of the book shelf, one part of the cabinet, and some space for my many storage boxes.
I can't be more thankful.
So as I was ploughing through the many things, I was thinking very hard about what I would be bringing over.
And I was reminded of the song.
Sure, I wasn't at a point of deciding what kind of legacy to leave behind but I needed to decide what I would take away with me.
My present house is a storage space literally. I keep my clothes, my food, my books...everything I need inside.
But when I can't take the house with me, what would I choose to take away, and what would I choose to leave behind?
...
So far, I have packed away one box. In it contains two Neuroscience textbooks, and many diaries.
Frankly, as I type now, I am inclined to re-pack that box.
Diaries, yes. But Neuroscience textbooks? It is not like I will ever do it again. Anymore.
*thinks hard*
Yes. I think it is more worthwhile taking the Chinese Dictionary away instead.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The paths that don't cross ever
As I looked at the pictures, I realized that it is not true that one will look beautiful during the wedding day.
And I was just thinking to myself, I hope I will not be in such a plight. I do hope that I will be able to look pretty and beautiful on my wedding day.
...
A friend has got married. And I am sorry (ashamed) to say that I didn't think she looked pretty at all.
Is it the make-up? Is it the gown?
Is it her? That she wasn't pretty in the first place?
Or is it me? That I superimposed my perceptions onto her face?
Which is why I declined to leave any comments. I didn't want myself saying any hurtful things.
Well, to sort things out, I checked with my colleague.
She reaffirmed my stand: my friend didn't look pretty in her gown or in the pictures.
I don't know if it is even supposed to happen. Like I said earlier, a bride is supposed to look beautiful.
And so when people start saying things like,
"Oh! You are gorgeous!", "Wow! You look stunning!", "You are beautiful"
when it is not the case, what is more scary?
The person who said it? Or the thoughts that went into the person who said it?
...
At work yesterday, I had a little conflict with someone at work.
I needed to purchase some equipment, which cost about $100. And I had asked for her permission because she was THE person to ask.
But while she told me it would be possible for funding on the one hand, she had told my colleague to tell me to buy it myself.
HUH! BUY IT MYSELF!
I cannot imagine why I should buy it myself when it is the workplace that needs it.
But more importantly, I cannot understand why she must whisper to my colleague to tell me to buy it myself when she could have told me that herself.
And just when I had thought that this was a one-off, I found out that the disruption of my telephone line had something to do with her too.
My boss had said ok to keeping the line; she had told me that the department was unwilling to pay for my line (my boss is her superior).
And she had canceled my line.
And I am now without a telephone line.
...
I think I can accept the fact that there will always be such people around in our lives, and that it is just a matter of how much contact we will have.
But really,
if you are my friend,
then please do tell me if I don't look pretty on my wedding day.
Or even, if it brings you discomfort to mention about my face, then say it in a different but nonetheless fortright way.
Maybe say, "You look radiant" (That just means my face is pink and of course, I would most probably have my blusher on).
Or say, "You look different" (That just means I am different!)
Or just say "Congratulations!"
Yes, I will be a little disheartened that I hadn't looked beautiful, but I will appreciate that sincerity and honesty more than sheer flattery.
I want our paths to cross again.
And that can only be possible if we have complete trust in each other.
And I was just thinking to myself, I hope I will not be in such a plight. I do hope that I will be able to look pretty and beautiful on my wedding day.
...
A friend has got married. And I am sorry (ashamed) to say that I didn't think she looked pretty at all.
Is it the make-up? Is it the gown?
Is it her? That she wasn't pretty in the first place?
Or is it me? That I superimposed my perceptions onto her face?
Which is why I declined to leave any comments. I didn't want myself saying any hurtful things.
Well, to sort things out, I checked with my colleague.
She reaffirmed my stand: my friend didn't look pretty in her gown or in the pictures.
I don't know if it is even supposed to happen. Like I said earlier, a bride is supposed to look beautiful.
And so when people start saying things like,
"Oh! You are gorgeous!", "Wow! You look stunning!", "You are beautiful"
when it is not the case, what is more scary?
The person who said it? Or the thoughts that went into the person who said it?
...
At work yesterday, I had a little conflict with someone at work.
I needed to purchase some equipment, which cost about $100. And I had asked for her permission because she was THE person to ask.
But while she told me it would be possible for funding on the one hand, she had told my colleague to tell me to buy it myself.
HUH! BUY IT MYSELF!
I cannot imagine why I should buy it myself when it is the workplace that needs it.
But more importantly, I cannot understand why she must whisper to my colleague to tell me to buy it myself when she could have told me that herself.
And just when I had thought that this was a one-off, I found out that the disruption of my telephone line had something to do with her too.
My boss had said ok to keeping the line; she had told me that the department was unwilling to pay for my line (my boss is her superior).
And she had canceled my line.
And I am now without a telephone line.
...
I think I can accept the fact that there will always be such people around in our lives, and that it is just a matter of how much contact we will have.
But really,
if you are my friend,
then please do tell me if I don't look pretty on my wedding day.
Or even, if it brings you discomfort to mention about my face, then say it in a different but nonetheless fortright way.
Maybe say, "You look radiant" (That just means my face is pink and of course, I would most probably have my blusher on).
Or say, "You look different" (That just means I am different!)
Or just say "Congratulations!"
Yes, I will be a little disheartened that I hadn't looked beautiful, but I will appreciate that sincerity and honesty more than sheer flattery.
I want our paths to cross again.
And that can only be possible if we have complete trust in each other.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Fine! Next please!
Quite a while ago, I had contemplated continuing Japanese with my current teacher.
My classmates didn't like him one bit. They say he talked too much, that is bad enough. But the worst thing is, the things he had said aren't the least beneficial to us.
In other words, he talked too much rubbish in class.
I had differed in my opinion.
You see, when I started Japanese, I was always nervous. I freaked up when I needed to go for class, because I hadn't understood a single thing. (That was another teacher. She is supposed to be quite good.)
But you see--a teacher-student's relationship needs some amount of chemistry.
This teacher, albeit talking too much, had made me comfortable in a certain way.
I think it is because he makes a lot of stupid comments--which made the exceptional students feel that he is wasting their time, but had made me feel comfortable instead.
Anyway, that was how I had thought a while back.
...
I have been learning Japanese for a year now.
Right now, I am in the last phase of the Intermediate level of the school.
I am still not fluent in the language. But I think a very very simple conversation is possible. I may stutter and pause due to a lack of vocabulary, and I will probably not understand exactly what is being said, but I can still fathom a bit.
And I am proud of my own progress.
So when my teacher tried so hard to convince me I shouldn't be taking JLPT 3, I wasn't the least impressed.
(We would need a recommendation from him to take the exam since we should be taking JLPT 4 but we are skipping a grade.)
To begin with, I wasn't taking it in the first place. It was the girl beside me who had wanted to try it. For me, I would be in Guangzhou doing my one-month Chinese literature/ economics/ politics class (I can try to take it in Guangzhou but it is going to be a big hassle trying to contact the university and the such).
He kept telling me how the deserving classmates have been scoring 80 and above for all their tests and hence are ready (and hence, since I hadn't ever scored 80, I am not...).
Perhaps, I should really feel incompetent, and to a certain extent, I do.
When I go for make-up class, I see people getting 98 marks or 95 marks for their test. In my own class, people get 99 marks.
I, on the contrary, get 73 marks. Sometimes, I scrap by, managing 60 plus marks.
In class, I don't understand the Japanese my teacher mutters. Or maybe he is not muttering. I thought he was.
So yes, maybe I should feel ashamed.
So maybe, it is not so much about other people being exceptional, just that I am unachieving.
Whatever it is, as a teacher, you have no right to dissuade me.
That goes against the motion of a teacher, does it not?
You may not support it because you feel that you don't want me to risk rejection and failure. Your job then is to tell me the test is hard and I will need to study doubly hard.
...
I was hesitating for a while whether I should even continue with Japanese.
I guess I should.
Even if next year I am still not good enough for JLPT.
You know. I know what I need to succeed in the language. Maybe because of my fetish with the brain and its behaviour--I know just what I need.
So I guess, perhaps a more worthwhile question is, will I be committed to better Japanese?
But anyway, I have decided to not continue with the school. Or the teacher.
I have to agree with my classmates this time: It is time to move on.
My classmates didn't like him one bit. They say he talked too much, that is bad enough. But the worst thing is, the things he had said aren't the least beneficial to us.
In other words, he talked too much rubbish in class.
I had differed in my opinion.
You see, when I started Japanese, I was always nervous. I freaked up when I needed to go for class, because I hadn't understood a single thing. (That was another teacher. She is supposed to be quite good.)
But you see--a teacher-student's relationship needs some amount of chemistry.
This teacher, albeit talking too much, had made me comfortable in a certain way.
I think it is because he makes a lot of stupid comments--which made the exceptional students feel that he is wasting their time, but had made me feel comfortable instead.
Anyway, that was how I had thought a while back.
...
I have been learning Japanese for a year now.
Right now, I am in the last phase of the Intermediate level of the school.
I am still not fluent in the language. But I think a very very simple conversation is possible. I may stutter and pause due to a lack of vocabulary, and I will probably not understand exactly what is being said, but I can still fathom a bit.
And I am proud of my own progress.
So when my teacher tried so hard to convince me I shouldn't be taking JLPT 3, I wasn't the least impressed.
(We would need a recommendation from him to take the exam since we should be taking JLPT 4 but we are skipping a grade.)
To begin with, I wasn't taking it in the first place. It was the girl beside me who had wanted to try it. For me, I would be in Guangzhou doing my one-month Chinese literature/ economics/ politics class (I can try to take it in Guangzhou but it is going to be a big hassle trying to contact the university and the such).
He kept telling me how the deserving classmates have been scoring 80 and above for all their tests and hence are ready (and hence, since I hadn't ever scored 80, I am not...).
Perhaps, I should really feel incompetent, and to a certain extent, I do.
When I go for make-up class, I see people getting 98 marks or 95 marks for their test. In my own class, people get 99 marks.
I, on the contrary, get 73 marks. Sometimes, I scrap by, managing 60 plus marks.
In class, I don't understand the Japanese my teacher mutters. Or maybe he is not muttering. I thought he was.
So yes, maybe I should feel ashamed.
So maybe, it is not so much about other people being exceptional, just that I am unachieving.
Whatever it is, as a teacher, you have no right to dissuade me.
That goes against the motion of a teacher, does it not?
You may not support it because you feel that you don't want me to risk rejection and failure. Your job then is to tell me the test is hard and I will need to study doubly hard.
...
I was hesitating for a while whether I should even continue with Japanese.
I guess I should.
Even if next year I am still not good enough for JLPT.
You know. I know what I need to succeed in the language. Maybe because of my fetish with the brain and its behaviour--I know just what I need.
So I guess, perhaps a more worthwhile question is, will I be committed to better Japanese?
But anyway, I have decided to not continue with the school. Or the teacher.
I have to agree with my classmates this time: It is time to move on.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Lingering on ...freedom
I hadn't gone dancing in NQ for a long time. In fact, I hadn't met up with my Salsa friends for a long time.
I went down on Tue, and there was a crowd. Among us, already there was a turnout of 6 people. At the club, it was even more crowded. I was told that it was Beginners' Night.
Right.
...
I used to think Salsa was a very sleazy dance. I guess I just wasn't comfortable at the way some guys hold the girls.
But as of now, I have become quite 'ok' with it.
I think I can appreciate the music better, not to mention, enjoy dancing more.
If guys cuddle me, and they do it in a sleazy way, then I just try my best to keep a distance.
But I don't usually get that--Thankfully--probably because 1) I am not gorgeous-looking; 2) I always stick to T-shirts (which kills all sense of femininity).
And I don't usually think highly of Salsa guys. Maybe because I have heard of a few who were j***...
But on Tue, I thought this guy was absolutely mesmerizing.
He took my breath away. For a moment...
He kept giving me reassuring pats on my back. Literally. Momentarily, he will whisper...Relax, relax. One time, he even told me to not worry and just keep smiling.
Yeah, I am very nervous when I dance with strangers.
And the way he spins! So graceful. The way he moves...He even shines with shine.
Wah...plus that cologne of his, lady-killer ah.
Haha.
In fact, I told R (he came to pick me up) that if I had not met him, I would have wooed that guy!
Of course, I am exaggerating. I don't think I will really woo him. But the fact is, I do feel that guys who can dance well or play music well exhibit an irresistible appeal.
...
I kind of wonder if I will still get to go dancing after I am married.
I have seen many people 'deteriorate' following marriage. They don't go dancing anymore. They don't socialize anymore.
They transform...into a house-person.
Which, please do not get me wrong, is not a bad thing at all.
It is good to be spending your time with the person you love. I would want to do that too.
But I do want to do other things too.
I still want to be able to go dancing (never mind about meeting impressive guys who can twirl and spin with grace and charm).
I still want to learn foreign languages and travel around the world (It would be ideal if R comes with me but if he can, I will be more than happy to have him around).
I still want to learn how to do gymnastics.
I sill want to have my own life.
And I hope that will be the case.
I went down on Tue, and there was a crowd. Among us, already there was a turnout of 6 people. At the club, it was even more crowded. I was told that it was Beginners' Night.
Right.
...
I used to think Salsa was a very sleazy dance. I guess I just wasn't comfortable at the way some guys hold the girls.
But as of now, I have become quite 'ok' with it.
I think I can appreciate the music better, not to mention, enjoy dancing more.
If guys cuddle me, and they do it in a sleazy way, then I just try my best to keep a distance.
But I don't usually get that--Thankfully--probably because 1) I am not gorgeous-looking; 2) I always stick to T-shirts (which kills all sense of femininity).
And I don't usually think highly of Salsa guys. Maybe because I have heard of a few who were j***...
But on Tue, I thought this guy was absolutely mesmerizing.
He took my breath away. For a moment...
He kept giving me reassuring pats on my back. Literally. Momentarily, he will whisper...Relax, relax. One time, he even told me to not worry and just keep smiling.
Yeah, I am very nervous when I dance with strangers.
And the way he spins! So graceful. The way he moves...He even shines with shine.
Wah...plus that cologne of his, lady-killer ah.
Haha.
In fact, I told R (he came to pick me up) that if I had not met him, I would have wooed that guy!
Of course, I am exaggerating. I don't think I will really woo him. But the fact is, I do feel that guys who can dance well or play music well exhibit an irresistible appeal.
...
I kind of wonder if I will still get to go dancing after I am married.
I have seen many people 'deteriorate' following marriage. They don't go dancing anymore. They don't socialize anymore.
They transform...into a house-person.
Which, please do not get me wrong, is not a bad thing at all.
It is good to be spending your time with the person you love. I would want to do that too.
But I do want to do other things too.
I still want to be able to go dancing (never mind about meeting impressive guys who can twirl and spin with grace and charm).
I still want to learn foreign languages and travel around the world (It would be ideal if R comes with me but if he can, I will be more than happy to have him around).
I still want to learn how to do gymnastics.
I sill want to have my own life.
And I hope that will be the case.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Healing. Outpouring. Check: Normal.
The weekend has been quite amazing.
I went for LISS, in my mind procrastinating, not really keen. I was sick anyway—so that could be a convenient excuse had I chosen to use it.
But well, since I have already paid the money, I figured I should just go ahead.
Sometimes, things turn out quite different from the way we anticipate it.
…
My first session last Sat was a culture-shock.
That sums my sentiments holistically. I wasn’t the least comfortable in the room—people raising hands, muttering what seems to be gibberish, prayers being recited. Alamak, what is this?
But come the next week, as I made my way there alone (E was sick), I thought I should just proceed on with an open heart. After all, I have already paid the money!
So…I tried.
The truth is, I have heard quite a lot about healing and all, but I have never associated the two: That I will get to experience what I had heard where I was then.
…
L found out from me what I wanted to be healed from.
The pondering over wasn’t too difficult.
It has been very hard for me. I had felt the resentment in my heart.
So, it was very natural, and only natural, that I thought of that.
The healing-over left me sobbing.
But it also gave me a sense of lightness.
I remember thinking,"Weird".
…
The next day was the more intense day: the outpouring of the gifts.
As the speaker shared, I had to admit I identified with his sentiments: Give me everything but that.
Yes, I didn’t really want the gift of tongues.
Remember I mention the culture shock I had experienced when people start breaking up in the room speaking in what seemed to be gibberish. Amidst the darkness, it can be overwhelming.
Not to mention, what if I were the one speaking!
Plus, I had heard too often of people who pretended they could speak in tongues just so that they can show it off.
I didn’t need to show off anything. I didn’t want to be speaking gibberish. And so, I really don’t quite want it.
Although technically, I wasn’t in a position to choose what I would get…It is a gift. If you get it, you say thanks! If you don’t, then that is just not supposed to be yours.
Well…
I remember feeling totally surprised that the outpouring occurred so quickly.
One moment we were in a talk, the next moment it was the session.
Amidst feeling stunned, my palms remain outstretched, facing Heaven. Don’t ask me what I was doing—I guess I was just waiting for it to come down.
Yes, it can be very intimidating.
So imagine, I standing in the centre, surrounded by four people praying over me, hands outstretched towards me.
I started crying, unconsciously.
I started weeping…and sweating profusely…even though I was directly under the air-
conditioner vent.
I was just crying, unconsciously and can’t seem to stop.
And then I feel myself falling backwards. That moment, I caught myself.
That happened two more times. I feel myself being pushed back but I catch myself everytime.
All this time, somebody said in my ear to say words of praise. Something wanted to come out from my mouth—I couldn’t let myself articulate it. It didn’t sound comprehensible. I couldn’t make any sense of what I was going to utter.
I was quivering all this time as I fought over the instinct to speak.
Finally, someone walked over to me and told me to let go. And then someone else also reassured me that there would be someone to catch me should I fall.
And I just fell.
This, I think, is called being ‘slain’. What a word…
So I laid there, sobbing in total un-control.
I took a while to sit up and regain composure.
I realized, thankfully, I wasn’t the only one behaving that way.
It was also then I realized what I had heard was true. People just fall. Unaware. If they surrender.
Later on, my facilitator came over and asked me if she could pray with me. She said she had a strong prompting.
And the same thing happened. I sat there, sobbing, quivering, not wanting to muster what I couldn’t understand.
…
The gifts of the spirit. Outpoured to me free.
Such is the wonder of God.
Such is the power of God.
(Sorry if this entry is too ‘Christian’. I needed to blog it out!)
P/s: Praying in tongues is a way of communicating to God. When we run out of things to say, the Spirit takes over and helps us.
P/P/S: I checked with a more experienced friend and realized that whatever I was experiencing—my hairs standing, the quivering, the crying—was normal!
I went for LISS, in my mind procrastinating, not really keen. I was sick anyway—so that could be a convenient excuse had I chosen to use it.
But well, since I have already paid the money, I figured I should just go ahead.
Sometimes, things turn out quite different from the way we anticipate it.
…
My first session last Sat was a culture-shock.
That sums my sentiments holistically. I wasn’t the least comfortable in the room—people raising hands, muttering what seems to be gibberish, prayers being recited. Alamak, what is this?
But come the next week, as I made my way there alone (E was sick), I thought I should just proceed on with an open heart. After all, I have already paid the money!
So…I tried.
The truth is, I have heard quite a lot about healing and all, but I have never associated the two: That I will get to experience what I had heard where I was then.
…
L found out from me what I wanted to be healed from.
The pondering over wasn’t too difficult.
It has been very hard for me. I had felt the resentment in my heart.
So, it was very natural, and only natural, that I thought of that.
The healing-over left me sobbing.
But it also gave me a sense of lightness.
I remember thinking,"Weird".
…
The next day was the more intense day: the outpouring of the gifts.
As the speaker shared, I had to admit I identified with his sentiments: Give me everything but that.
Yes, I didn’t really want the gift of tongues.
Remember I mention the culture shock I had experienced when people start breaking up in the room speaking in what seemed to be gibberish. Amidst the darkness, it can be overwhelming.
Not to mention, what if I were the one speaking!
Plus, I had heard too often of people who pretended they could speak in tongues just so that they can show it off.
I didn’t need to show off anything. I didn’t want to be speaking gibberish. And so, I really don’t quite want it.
Although technically, I wasn’t in a position to choose what I would get…It is a gift. If you get it, you say thanks! If you don’t, then that is just not supposed to be yours.
Well…
I remember feeling totally surprised that the outpouring occurred so quickly.
One moment we were in a talk, the next moment it was the session.
Amidst feeling stunned, my palms remain outstretched, facing Heaven. Don’t ask me what I was doing—I guess I was just waiting for it to come down.
Yes, it can be very intimidating.
So imagine, I standing in the centre, surrounded by four people praying over me, hands outstretched towards me.
I started crying, unconsciously.
I started weeping…and sweating profusely…even though I was directly under the air-
conditioner vent.
I was just crying, unconsciously and can’t seem to stop.
And then I feel myself falling backwards. That moment, I caught myself.
That happened two more times. I feel myself being pushed back but I catch myself everytime.
All this time, somebody said in my ear to say words of praise. Something wanted to come out from my mouth—I couldn’t let myself articulate it. It didn’t sound comprehensible. I couldn’t make any sense of what I was going to utter.
I was quivering all this time as I fought over the instinct to speak.
Finally, someone walked over to me and told me to let go. And then someone else also reassured me that there would be someone to catch me should I fall.
And I just fell.
This, I think, is called being ‘slain’. What a word…
So I laid there, sobbing in total un-control.
I took a while to sit up and regain composure.
I realized, thankfully, I wasn’t the only one behaving that way.
It was also then I realized what I had heard was true. People just fall. Unaware. If they surrender.
Later on, my facilitator came over and asked me if she could pray with me. She said she had a strong prompting.
And the same thing happened. I sat there, sobbing, quivering, not wanting to muster what I couldn’t understand.
…
The gifts of the spirit. Outpoured to me free.
Such is the wonder of God.
Such is the power of God.
(Sorry if this entry is too ‘Christian’. I needed to blog it out!)
P/s: Praying in tongues is a way of communicating to God. When we run out of things to say, the Spirit takes over and helps us.
P/P/S: I checked with a more experienced friend and realized that whatever I was experiencing—my hairs standing, the quivering, the crying—was normal!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Short update...if you are on RSS feed especially.
I was supposed to officiate this yesterday—that would have been hot news—but I didn’t…
because, I think I was busy.
I am not quite sure. I was probably rushing out some report.
Anyhow…while it isn’t that hot a piece of news anymore, it is still …quite … hot.
R and I are getting married.
We, or rather, I (since he doesn’t like this sort of stuff) will be trying to blog the preparation process if possible in another blog. (Yes, and then I will have a lot of blogs to maintain…) But why another blog is primarily so that he can access it and blog should he want to.
And that doesn't mean I won't blog anymore. My surname will still remain as it is. I will still be me!
So anyway, yes, you can find us at ...
(was going to write it down but I will realize then I will have infringed on my own privacy!)
(Message me, and I will forward you the addy)
because, I think I was busy.
I am not quite sure. I was probably rushing out some report.
Anyhow…while it isn’t that hot a piece of news anymore, it is still …quite … hot.
R and I are getting married.
We, or rather, I (since he doesn’t like this sort of stuff) will be trying to blog the preparation process if possible in another blog. (Yes, and then I will have a lot of blogs to maintain…) But why another blog is primarily so that he can access it and blog should he want to.
And that doesn't mean I won't blog anymore. My surname will still remain as it is. I will still be me!
So anyway, yes, you can find us at ...
(was going to write it down but I will realize then I will have infringed on my own privacy!)
(Message me, and I will forward you the addy)
Monday, July 13, 2009
I tried hard enough...
I am somehow really getting lazier.
I have had things to write about. In fact, just this morning, I had thought of three things to write about. But I had gotten lazy. And obviously I hadn't gotten down to it.
But since my boss is out (for now), I should quickly get down to it.
...
I had a super big fight with her on Sat.
I had almost left home.
She had told me, with her finger pointing to the door, shouting "GET OUT!" and I had wanted to comply.
Only to realize, aiyah, there is Japanese class later. I had already paid the money; I didn't want to waste any money!
Aiyah, tomorrow I need to go dance. I can only attend so many classes...
I had wanted to go to L...H... (some budget hotel near my place) and spend maybe the weekend there.
But I didn't think L...H...was worth $200.
...
The exchange went as follows:
I had shouted at my brother--surname and name--because my brother was sleeping on my pillow. (Yes, yeeeeee right!)
My mum shouted from the kitchen, saying that I don't have manners. And she said something about me being crazy.
I mumbled to myself about it about her being the one crazy. My brother told me to shut up. My mum asked me to shut the big door. I told her to shut it herself.
At that moment, she had an extension cord in her hand as she was getting ready to do the laundry. So she stormed into the living room with the cord in her hand, shut the door, walked to me and tried to hit me with it.
Yes, she tried to hit me with it. At the same time, she shouted, "Who do you say was crazy?"
I replied "YOU!" and said, "HELLO! You called me crazy first right?"
And then it was show time, as B would call it.
After I tried to stop her from hitting me, I said, "What is it this time? Why are you looking for trouble with me all the time?"
S (She): You do volunteer work all the time. You don't care about the family.
I: Huh? I don't care about the family, then what am I doing?
I didn't even wait for her to reply and I added
ENOUGH! (Capital letters mean that I shouted) WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LOOKING FOR TROUBLE WITH ME?
WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?
YOU HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR THE PAST TEN PLUS YEARS. YOU DON'T DO IT TO BROTHER COS HE SHOUTS BACK AT YOU SO YOU TAKE IT OUT ON ME?! HOW LONG YOU WANT TO DO THIS? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
(I don't know if you can imagine, but I was really hysterical already.)
Then I asked her, still shouting
YOU SAID I HADN'T DONE ANYTHING FOR THE FAMILY. THEN YOU! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
She actually replied--nothing.
And I said,
YES! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING!! SO YOU SHUT UP! IF YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE RIGHT TO CRITICIZE ME! THEN SHUT UP!
I was all shouting and all hysterical.
I was crying and I was shaking.
And she said, in a sarcastic tone,
Ya lo. When you were born, you were clever. You don't need anyone to teach you anything.
You know what? I think that statement is so funny.
Was that all that a parent is meant to do? Teach the child something?
When you were born, your mum was dead.
Well, I haven't thought more of that.
IF YOU HAVE THE GUTS, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!
...AND FROM TODAY ONWARDS, DON'T EVER TALK TO ME.
Frankly, I wouldn't want to talk to her.
Talking to her has been too tedious, too trying and too tiring.
My clothes get missing when she dries them. I have to cook my dinner because she said she is dizzy.
I don't know, but more of it, as I see it, is laziness.
Maybe, maybe I have misunderstood her.
But I really just think,
some people were never meant to be parents.
Because they don't even know how to love.
And I don't say it to criticize anybody...
But I just feel very sorry for myself when I look around and I see loving parent-child relationships.
I mean, it is not like I never tried.
It is not like I never tried hard enough.
I have had things to write about. In fact, just this morning, I had thought of three things to write about. But I had gotten lazy. And obviously I hadn't gotten down to it.
But since my boss is out (for now), I should quickly get down to it.
...
I had a super big fight with her on Sat.
I had almost left home.
She had told me, with her finger pointing to the door, shouting "GET OUT!" and I had wanted to comply.
Only to realize, aiyah, there is Japanese class later. I had already paid the money; I didn't want to waste any money!
Aiyah, tomorrow I need to go dance. I can only attend so many classes...
I had wanted to go to L...H... (some budget hotel near my place) and spend maybe the weekend there.
But I didn't think L...H...was worth $200.
...
The exchange went as follows:
I had shouted at my brother--surname and name--because my brother was sleeping on my pillow. (Yes, yeeeeee right!)
My mum shouted from the kitchen, saying that I don't have manners. And she said something about me being crazy.
I mumbled to myself about it about her being the one crazy. My brother told me to shut up. My mum asked me to shut the big door. I told her to shut it herself.
At that moment, she had an extension cord in her hand as she was getting ready to do the laundry. So she stormed into the living room with the cord in her hand, shut the door, walked to me and tried to hit me with it.
Yes, she tried to hit me with it. At the same time, she shouted, "Who do you say was crazy?"
I replied "YOU!" and said, "HELLO! You called me crazy first right?"
And then it was show time, as B would call it.
After I tried to stop her from hitting me, I said, "What is it this time? Why are you looking for trouble with me all the time?"
S (She): You do volunteer work all the time. You don't care about the family.
I: Huh? I don't care about the family, then what am I doing?
I didn't even wait for her to reply and I added
Then why do I even bother with what I do?
WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?
YOU HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR THE PAST TEN PLUS YEARS. YOU DON'T DO IT TO BROTHER COS HE SHOUTS BACK AT YOU SO YOU TAKE IT OUT ON ME?! HOW LONG YOU WANT TO DO THIS? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
(I don't know if you can imagine, but I was really hysterical already.)
Then I asked her, still shouting
YOU SAID I HADN'T DONE ANYTHING FOR THE FAMILY. THEN YOU! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
She actually replied--nothing.
And I said,
YES! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING!! SO YOU SHUT UP! IF YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE RIGHT TO CRITICIZE ME! THEN SHUT UP!
I was all shouting and all hysterical.
I was crying and I was shaking.
And she said, in a sarcastic tone,
Ya lo. When you were born, you were clever. You don't need anyone to teach you anything.
You know what? I think that statement is so funny.
Was that all that a parent is meant to do? Teach the child something?
When you were born, your mum was dead.
Well, I haven't thought more of that.
IF YOU HAVE THE GUTS, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!
...AND FROM TODAY ONWARDS, DON'T EVER TALK TO ME.
Frankly, I wouldn't want to talk to her.
Talking to her has been too tedious, too trying and too tiring.
My clothes get missing when she dries them. I have to cook my dinner because she said she is dizzy.
I don't know, but more of it, as I see it, is laziness.
Maybe, maybe I have misunderstood her.
But I really just think,
some people were never meant to be parents.
Because they don't even know how to love.
And I don't say it to criticize anybody...
But I just feel very sorry for myself when I look around and I see loving parent-child relationships.
I mean, it is not like I never tried.
It is not like I never tried hard enough.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Looking at Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson died yesterday. According to the newscast, when the paramedics reached his place, he was already dead.
He was only 50. That is what, half a life time.
Apparently, he had been preparing for his ComeBack tour.
I wonder if he ever knew this was coming; probably not.
...
This week has been quite a week.
I have been having headaches since Sunday. I was supposed to have a meeting. I couldn't make it.
And then, I had headaches on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, yesterday and this morning.
Don't ask me why I get the headaches. I think it is a variety of reasons.
I am stressed out. I am bored.
I am upset. I am annoyed.
Or I am just down.
My mum still throws her tantrums now and then. I try to emphatize. I try to be nice.
I try, but I am still annoyed. I should grow out of it. I always say I should but I never succeed in doing so.
The new officers have taken their positions. I am disgruntled.
But let me clarify: I am disgruntled not because they have their positions, but because I feel underachieved.
You get the difference? Three of us, same qualifications (I have more work experience), but two of them get the posts of senior officers, permanent contracts with benefits while I am not even entitled to the mid-year bonus.
Never mind--I am just being ...irritating.
...
At moments like this, I can only say I want to learn how to remain grateful.
Bent on leaving my old workplace, I had prayed for a job. This had enticed me, so there really shouldn't be anything I should complain about.
It is an easy life. I come in, I knock off. Easy life.
I must believe that I am here for a reason. That a contract may be for my good.
Because it is so cognitive in nature, and I am quite efficient, I have time to 'do other things'...something which I probably can't do if I were a senior officer. I wouldn't have as much time.
...
Actually, life is really really short.
It is just that most of the time, we tend to view time as passing in terms of years...so we make yearly plans and lead yearly lives. We decide that this year, we will visit this place and next year, the other place. We decide that this year, we will learn something and next year, move house. We decide that this year we will wed and next year have kids. We decide that this year we will get healthy and next year we will concentrate on making big money.
But we never wonder about what we should do with now.
My colleague shared with me a story on her husband's friend, who was recently diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer. The doctor gave him 2 years to live.
And there was this article by a doctor in the papers yesterday, who shared on how he was touched by a husband waiting on his wife for four years because she had been stricken with cancer.
And then as I look over Michael Jackson's photos of past years, I wonder if he was ever happy.
(The commentary said that he never was happy.)
I wonder if he ever saw how fragile life was.
And I do think what my colleague said makes sense. It is actually not so bad being diagnosed with when you will die.
...because at this point when you are finally confronted with the reality that your life is limited, you can finally decide how you want to live.
...because you finally realize that for once and for all, you gotta start living your days (no more years) seriously.
...
I wasn't ever a fan of Michael Jackson. But I think I will still miss him somehow.
He was only 50. That is what, half a life time.
Apparently, he had been preparing for his ComeBack tour.
I wonder if he ever knew this was coming; probably not.
...
This week has been quite a week.
I have been having headaches since Sunday. I was supposed to have a meeting. I couldn't make it.
And then, I had headaches on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, yesterday and this morning.
Don't ask me why I get the headaches. I think it is a variety of reasons.
I am stressed out. I am bored.
I am upset. I am annoyed.
Or I am just down.
My mum still throws her tantrums now and then. I try to emphatize. I try to be nice.
I try, but I am still annoyed. I should grow out of it. I always say I should but I never succeed in doing so.
The new officers have taken their positions. I am disgruntled.
But let me clarify: I am disgruntled not because they have their positions, but because I feel underachieved.
You get the difference? Three of us, same qualifications (I have more work experience), but two of them get the posts of senior officers, permanent contracts with benefits while I am not even entitled to the mid-year bonus.
Never mind--I am just being ...irritating.
...
At moments like this, I can only say I want to learn how to remain grateful.
Bent on leaving my old workplace, I had prayed for a job. This had enticed me, so there really shouldn't be anything I should complain about.
It is an easy life. I come in, I knock off. Easy life.
I must believe that I am here for a reason. That a contract may be for my good.
Because it is so cognitive in nature, and I am quite efficient, I have time to 'do other things'...something which I probably can't do if I were a senior officer. I wouldn't have as much time.
...
Actually, life is really really short.
It is just that most of the time, we tend to view time as passing in terms of years...so we make yearly plans and lead yearly lives. We decide that this year, we will visit this place and next year, the other place. We decide that this year, we will learn something and next year, move house. We decide that this year we will wed and next year have kids. We decide that this year we will get healthy and next year we will concentrate on making big money.
But we never wonder about what we should do with now.
My colleague shared with me a story on her husband's friend, who was recently diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer. The doctor gave him 2 years to live.
And there was this article by a doctor in the papers yesterday, who shared on how he was touched by a husband waiting on his wife for four years because she had been stricken with cancer.
And then as I look over Michael Jackson's photos of past years, I wonder if he was ever happy.
(The commentary said that he never was happy.)
I wonder if he ever saw how fragile life was.
And I do think what my colleague said makes sense. It is actually not so bad being diagnosed with when you will die.
...because at this point when you are finally confronted with the reality that your life is limited, you can finally decide how you want to live.
...because you finally realize that for once and for all, you gotta start living your days (no more years) seriously.
...
I wasn't ever a fan of Michael Jackson. But I think I will still miss him somehow.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
mortality
My mother is still giving me her long face.
I don't know why--she talks to my father (and possibly, my brother) but she gives me the long face. Until I feel like not acknowledging her even at home.
I don't know why she behaves that way really. How long does she think I will be by her side? *shakes her head* I find it so amusing. We are not immortals. Not she. Not I. We each have our own vocations. Or maybe I at least. And I know very soon, I will leave her...so I really find her actions so childish and so silly.
...
I went for a retreat over the weekend. It is a marriage preparation kind of retreat. So over the weekend, the other person that I really have contact with, other than the other participants around, was my companion.
I don't know if I had mentioned this before--but we almost couldn't make it for this round. Simply because he had taken so long to sign up.
He had expressed the intention some time back but I really loathed it when he procrastinates. So that was in reality what happened.
I had retireved the form. We had gone to the website. The website had said the weekend in May was available, so we zoomed in on that.
God knows why in the end he took so long. By the time he finally confirm-chop-stamp decide he wants to go, the places in June have been snapped up.
So I nagged at him.
We decided to try anyway. Well, July was still a good time. There was no rush.
And we went through the wait list for June...!
Altogether, 30 couples went for the retreat.
Initially, I had thought it was going to be non air-conditioned; everybody was going to be super friendly and supportive; I thought I would be one of the friendlier ones.
I was wrong.
Air-conditioned rooms were available for all of us. The males were housed on level 2 and the ladies were housed on level 3.
Some were normal-friendly; others not so. I, um...I was unusually unfriendly.
Usually, when I meet strangers, I will be the one initiating a conversation. Maybe because I hadn't come alone or maybe it was because I "obeyed instructions" (We were told that this weekend should be dedicated to your partner) so I was stuck in the 'serious' mode. Whatever it is, I hadn't actually made many friends. Looking at it in hindsight, that is quite disappointing; the friends could have become a network of support.
Anyhow...
I thought the camp was ok. Apart for the fact that I had to sleep with the lights on (YES! I thought I was afraid of the dark but at least I sleep with the lights switched off! I have met my match!) and that the food was super oily, I felt the camp has been useful in one sense.
You see, we have been talking about similar topics before we went to the camp. We have communicated about communication styles, expenditure styles, lifestyles...to name a few. We have talked about raising kids, relocating (if we need to), accomodation issues.
And because we have talked about them, the retreat was more of, in his words, an indicator of where we have been so far.
I would say...while I am no expert in relationships, ours are in reality pretty stable. I say that because I saw couples get upset, flustered, and I hear girls bitching about their partners...when they were engaged and were going to be married soon. We, in contrast, just talked.
And no, I do not mean to say we understand each other very well already. I don't actually think that is possible because we are individuals changing all the time. Not to mention my melancholy tendencies can sometimes be a hard shield to penetrate.
It takes a lot to communicate to another individual. For some of us, we don't even have the courage to face ourselves, what to mention another individual.
At the bottom line, it is respect, honesty, trust and faith all bundled together.
...
Initially, we had signed up with the expectation it was Fr. M who was going to go through the weekend with us (it said so in the pamplet).
In the end, to my surprise, it was Fr. O.
I am more familiar with Fr. M because he had come to our church earlier to give us a theology talk...but Fr. O...the only time I remember him was when he spoke slurringly during a session.
I was worried he was going to be speaking in his accent again.
....
In his words, the weekend marked an important phase in our relationship.
I guess so.
You would have realized that we don't always exactly feel the same way about things. But I am still grateful the relationship lasted till today.
I am also grateful that he is in my life, to be frank.
Come middle of this week, we will be celebrating our anniversary. I guess going for EE prior to that made it all the more meaningful.
Because I think, now I can really understand why marriage is a sacrament and a vocation.
And both of us like Fr. O so much now that we are quite certain he will be the solemnizer when we get married.
We like his facial expressions when he shared with us his experiences with parishoners.
We like his inserts of candid comments when he taught us about the basic principles.
I don't know...we just found him very fatherly.
Before we left, we asked him if he would mind coming to our church to marry us.
I don't remember his exact words but he did say he will, with a wink, if his schedule permits, if our church schedule permits and yes, if he is still around in the world.
Of course, he is 78.
I don't know why--she talks to my father (and possibly, my brother) but she gives me the long face. Until I feel like not acknowledging her even at home.
I don't know why she behaves that way really. How long does she think I will be by her side? *shakes her head* I find it so amusing. We are not immortals. Not she. Not I. We each have our own vocations. Or maybe I at least. And I know very soon, I will leave her...so I really find her actions so childish and so silly.
...
I went for a retreat over the weekend. It is a marriage preparation kind of retreat. So over the weekend, the other person that I really have contact with, other than the other participants around, was my companion.
I don't know if I had mentioned this before--but we almost couldn't make it for this round. Simply because he had taken so long to sign up.
He had expressed the intention some time back but I really loathed it when he procrastinates. So that was in reality what happened.
I had retireved the form. We had gone to the website. The website had said the weekend in May was available, so we zoomed in on that.
God knows why in the end he took so long. By the time he finally confirm-chop-stamp decide he wants to go, the places in June have been snapped up.
So I nagged at him.
We decided to try anyway. Well, July was still a good time. There was no rush.
And we went through the wait list for June...!
Altogether, 30 couples went for the retreat.
Initially, I had thought it was going to be non air-conditioned; everybody was going to be super friendly and supportive; I thought I would be one of the friendlier ones.
I was wrong.
Air-conditioned rooms were available for all of us. The males were housed on level 2 and the ladies were housed on level 3.
Some were normal-friendly; others not so. I, um...I was unusually unfriendly.
Usually, when I meet strangers, I will be the one initiating a conversation. Maybe because I hadn't come alone or maybe it was because I "obeyed instructions" (We were told that this weekend should be dedicated to your partner) so I was stuck in the 'serious' mode. Whatever it is, I hadn't actually made many friends. Looking at it in hindsight, that is quite disappointing; the friends could have become a network of support.
Anyhow...
I thought the camp was ok. Apart for the fact that I had to sleep with the lights on (YES! I thought I was afraid of the dark but at least I sleep with the lights switched off! I have met my match!) and that the food was super oily, I felt the camp has been useful in one sense.
You see, we have been talking about similar topics before we went to the camp. We have communicated about communication styles, expenditure styles, lifestyles...to name a few. We have talked about raising kids, relocating (if we need to), accomodation issues.
And because we have talked about them, the retreat was more of, in his words, an indicator of where we have been so far.
I would say...while I am no expert in relationships, ours are in reality pretty stable. I say that because I saw couples get upset, flustered, and I hear girls bitching about their partners...when they were engaged and were going to be married soon. We, in contrast, just talked.
And no, I do not mean to say we understand each other very well already. I don't actually think that is possible because we are individuals changing all the time. Not to mention my melancholy tendencies can sometimes be a hard shield to penetrate.
It takes a lot to communicate to another individual. For some of us, we don't even have the courage to face ourselves, what to mention another individual.
At the bottom line, it is respect, honesty, trust and faith all bundled together.
...
Initially, we had signed up with the expectation it was Fr. M who was going to go through the weekend with us (it said so in the pamplet).
In the end, to my surprise, it was Fr. O.
I am more familiar with Fr. M because he had come to our church earlier to give us a theology talk...but Fr. O...the only time I remember him was when he spoke slurringly during a session.
I was worried he was going to be speaking in his accent again.
....
In his words, the weekend marked an important phase in our relationship.
I guess so.
You would have realized that we don't always exactly feel the same way about things. But I am still grateful the relationship lasted till today.
I am also grateful that he is in my life, to be frank.
Come middle of this week, we will be celebrating our anniversary. I guess going for EE prior to that made it all the more meaningful.
Because I think, now I can really understand why marriage is a sacrament and a vocation.
And both of us like Fr. O so much now that we are quite certain he will be the solemnizer when we get married.
We like his facial expressions when he shared with us his experiences with parishoners.
We like his inserts of candid comments when he taught us about the basic principles.
I don't know...we just found him very fatherly.
Before we left, we asked him if he would mind coming to our church to marry us.
I don't remember his exact words but he did say he will, with a wink, if his schedule permits, if our church schedule permits and yes, if he is still around in the world.
Of course, he is 78.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Master of science
Last night, I was thrilled to receive an sms from E.
She had messaged me to tell me about LISS. Interestingly (amazingly) it was the one I had seen on the noticeboard on Sun, and had told myself to go browse the website which I had then forgotten.
More interestingly, I had meant to attend Amplify's LISS, which is scheduled next Sat/Sun. I hadn't because this weekend I am at EE and there were no other replacement classes I could attend.
He does work in mysterious ways.
As of now, I have officially signed up. And E is also officially helping out. In the group I will be in!
...
This is by far the most number of retreats I have ever attended in a year!
Of course, I used to think retreats were nonsense.
I used to think communal living was nonsense. That is why I didn't want to stay in the hall when I was in the University. I cannot understand why people want to share bathrooms and toilets with others. (Yes, you have to share with others when you are at home but that is different, right?)
Anyway. my perspective took a turn after the first retreat this year. Which was yes, my first retreat, which happened before baptism.
I enjoyed that. And finally, I think I understood it.
...
I am still struggling about the paths in front of me.
I have applied to a few schools to do a Ph.D but all I get are rejection emails.
That, must mean something.
But what that means--I am sorry I don't know. I am frustrated I don't know.
All I know is if there were a reason why I want to do a PhD, it would be because the brain gets me excited.
But then many things get me excited too.
...
I have been called a Jack of all trades and a Master of none by R's mother.
I didn't deny it. It is true.
But I didn't like it to end that way so I answered back: I am a Master of Science.
And that is true too.
...
I wish I could be clearer of where I am heading.
I wonder why I don't ever know.
And I wonder if I really am only mean to be a Jack of all trades.
She had messaged me to tell me about LISS. Interestingly (amazingly) it was the one I had seen on the noticeboard on Sun, and had told myself to go browse the website which I had then forgotten.
More interestingly, I had meant to attend Amplify's LISS, which is scheduled next Sat/Sun. I hadn't because this weekend I am at EE and there were no other replacement classes I could attend.
He does work in mysterious ways.
As of now, I have officially signed up. And E is also officially helping out. In the group I will be in!
...
This is by far the most number of retreats I have ever attended in a year!
Of course, I used to think retreats were nonsense.
I used to think communal living was nonsense. That is why I didn't want to stay in the hall when I was in the University. I cannot understand why people want to share bathrooms and toilets with others. (Yes, you have to share with others when you are at home but that is different, right?)
Anyway. my perspective took a turn after the first retreat this year. Which was yes, my first retreat, which happened before baptism.
I enjoyed that. And finally, I think I understood it.
...
I am still struggling about the paths in front of me.
I have applied to a few schools to do a Ph.D but all I get are rejection emails.
That, must mean something.
But what that means--I am sorry I don't know. I am frustrated I don't know.
All I know is if there were a reason why I want to do a PhD, it would be because the brain gets me excited.
But then many things get me excited too.
...
I have been called a Jack of all trades and a Master of none by R's mother.
I didn't deny it. It is true.
But I didn't like it to end that way so I answered back: I am a Master of Science.
And that is true too.
...
I wish I could be clearer of where I am heading.
I wonder why I don't ever know.
And I wonder if I really am only mean to be a Jack of all trades.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Keeping it in mind
My colleague asked me if I will continue to work here should my boss renew my contract next year.
I said, it is hard to say. I said I didn't know.
But obviously, that is a lie.
...
I have been feeling rather distracted of late. I think maybe I am hitting the bottleneck again.
Or maybe it is the vacation, which has just lifted my spirit away.
Maybe it is the quarrel between R and I--which made me realize happiness is really meant to be cherished.
But whatever it is, the conversation that Y and I had just now left me more distraught.
Maybe I am exaggering.
I don't know.
I just know--as I was reminded of my father's age, I am also reminded of the passing of time.
Precious. It is precious.
He is getting old. One day, the whole load will come onto my shoulders.
And of course, I will take it up. I am sure I will.
Maybe I may have trouble. Maybe I will fall. Maybe I will cry.
But I will take it up.
The more important issue then is--I must make sure I have planted the milestones by then!
That I would have taken classes in Spain, completed Teachers' Training in India, visited Europe, gone to Kyoto, have a road trip in the U.S.A and danced Salsa in Cuba/Puerto Rico and Argentina Tango in Argentina.
I just have too many expectations, huh.
Why can't I take life in the slow lane?
Why can't I be more passive and less willful?
Why do I want to hold life so hard?
...
And yes, I am going to grumble that life is too short.
And that I don't have time.
Although, weirdly, I also don't know if I am using it in a constructive way now.
I am in a similar predicament as many others. I am at the crossroads and I don't know where to go.
I can of course, continue to work here if my contract gets renewed. But if I do that, the only reason is because life is too slow here.
And I am no longer in that mindset--I want job stability; I want a place that can keep me looking forward and not a situation which I have to keep looking for ways to be forward.
...
R said he has realized there is no point in having the will that all your intentions must be fulfilled; it never happens anyway.
Maybe he is right.
But I choose to think of it this way: If you don't look for ways to fulfill all that intentions, then for sure they will never be fulfilled.
I said, it is hard to say. I said I didn't know.
But obviously, that is a lie.
...
I have been feeling rather distracted of late. I think maybe I am hitting the bottleneck again.
Or maybe it is the vacation, which has just lifted my spirit away.
Maybe it is the quarrel between R and I--which made me realize happiness is really meant to be cherished.
But whatever it is, the conversation that Y and I had just now left me more distraught.
Maybe I am exaggering.
I don't know.
I just know--as I was reminded of my father's age, I am also reminded of the passing of time.
Precious. It is precious.
He is getting old. One day, the whole load will come onto my shoulders.
And of course, I will take it up. I am sure I will.
Maybe I may have trouble. Maybe I will fall. Maybe I will cry.
But I will take it up.
The more important issue then is--I must make sure I have planted the milestones by then!
That I would have taken classes in Spain, completed Teachers' Training in India, visited Europe, gone to Kyoto, have a road trip in the U.S.A and danced Salsa in Cuba/Puerto Rico and Argentina Tango in Argentina.
I just have too many expectations, huh.
Why can't I take life in the slow lane?
Why can't I be more passive and less willful?
Why do I want to hold life so hard?
...
And yes, I am going to grumble that life is too short.
And that I don't have time.
Although, weirdly, I also don't know if I am using it in a constructive way now.
I am in a similar predicament as many others. I am at the crossroads and I don't know where to go.
I can of course, continue to work here if my contract gets renewed. But if I do that, the only reason is because life is too slow here.
And I am no longer in that mindset--I want job stability; I want a place that can keep me looking forward and not a situation which I have to keep looking for ways to be forward.
...
R said he has realized there is no point in having the will that all your intentions must be fulfilled; it never happens anyway.
Maybe he is right.
But I choose to think of it this way: If you don't look for ways to fulfill all that intentions, then for sure they will never be fulfilled.
Friday, June 5, 2009
A passionate life...if I put my faith to it.
I like the article in Mind Your Body which was a reflection by a 45 year-old freelance writer. He talked about the shortness of life.
I like his essay a lot. I kind of agree with him. Or rather, with the Roman philosopher which inspired him to write the article.
Most of the time, we tend to complain time is not enough. We say, life is too short.
But the fact is, most of the time, we haven't been living it properly. We didn't live a life; we merely pass time.
Think about it: (it is a very long article)
http://www.forumromanum.org/literature/seneca_younger/brev_e.html
...
It is Friday today, so effectively, I only worked two days this week. So, yes, it has been a short week.
My trip was fabulous. It was a pity that it was so short.
The itinerary stated 4 days, but effectively, it was only a 2 day event. We spent such a long time on the train! It took...around 8 hours? We left feeling that we should have used it as a mid-point, and travel to Redang or Kuala Lumpur instead.
And while there is no doubt about the authenticity of the train ride (since we get to peep into people's backyards and cut across beautiful breath-taking plantations), the gruelling numbness of the butt is just too much to take.
But I wouldn't mind taking the train again though provided, either it is bound for Johor Bahru or it is an overnight train.
...
The trip has left me very inspired. Very very inspired, in fact.
You see. I am an authentic city-dweller. I like sports but I hate the sun because I am scared of freckles.
I hate outdoors because I dislike being sticky because I see all the dust specks sticking to me to emerge as black moles...and not to mention the potential pimples that may pop up.
Yes, I am vain somewhat. So frankly, I wouldn't really opt for outdoor activities too enthusiastically. This time, the trip occurred purely out of boredom.
I had gone with R: I was bored with the things we were doing together in Singapore. I had thought we could do something different...so when the notice came out, I signed up.
The fact is, I like trekking. I remember enjoying it very much when I was in Tioman. I remember I had wanted to do it again. I also remember the times a few of us trekked in Singapore and how I had enjoyed the flora and fauna.
But this trip was just different.
...
The activities were really interesting. In a nutshell, we visited the Orang Asli (the Baqet tribe), played with water in Lata Berkoh, trekked up Teresek Hill and explored Gua Telingga. We even had a night trek in the forest behind the resort.
Amidst the fact that it was humid and hot, I enjoyed myself. I thought I learnt a lot!
I learnt about why the Orang Asli leave the deceased on tree tops and why they moved to other plots of land (they are nomadic by nature). I also learnt about new 'wildlife' creatures like the fire centipede (because its legs are all red and its body is outlined red too), sweat bees, tree snake, toy-looking grasshopper, beetle-looking cockroach.
Most importantly, I was reminded about being "in the moment", something which I had kind of forgotten.
Amid each step I take as I climb up Teresek Hill, I had to be in the moment. It was not about looking forward to the cave or the summit. It was not about the night before. It was now (then). It was the now that will make that one step, should I fall or stand, should I be one step closer or remain.
That feeling is...real.
It was that very same feeling in the cave.
I had remembered distinctly that I had thought of turning back as I started out.
Across puddles of water. Into little drains. Past skinny slits. Under jaded edges. Some parts, I slided down with my butt and my hands. Other parts, I squeezed through laterally.
There was one portion of the cave that is just so prominent: The front part was a big rock and all left was a small hole, half of it was covered by water.
It had looked like a dead end to me. I was almost certain this was the end of the cave, that we had to turn back.
But when the guide told us to follow him and he disappeared practically behind the rock, I was like...OMG...
Yes, we had to duck-walk under the rock across the water to the other side quite literally.
As much as I tried, I couldn't stretch out my legs long enough and my shoes got wet. No choice, I had to get going. Continue..
I like his essay a lot. I kind of agree with him. Or rather, with the Roman philosopher which inspired him to write the article.
Most of the time, we tend to complain time is not enough. We say, life is too short.
But the fact is, most of the time, we haven't been living it properly. We didn't live a life; we merely pass time.
Think about it: (it is a very long article)
http://www.forumromanum.org/literature/seneca_younger/brev_e.html
...
Y commented a few days back that she like the way I live my life passionately.
Well, I am not exactly sure if I am living passionately. I try to, I guess, but I do think it can be better.
Anyhow, I returned from my trip on Tuesday night, but formally returned to work only on Thursday.
It is Friday today, so effectively, I only worked two days this week. So, yes, it has been a short week.
My trip was fabulous. It was a pity that it was so short.
The itinerary stated 4 days, but effectively, it was only a 2 day event. We spent such a long time on the train! It took...around 8 hours? We left feeling that we should have used it as a mid-point, and travel to Redang or Kuala Lumpur instead.
And while there is no doubt about the authenticity of the train ride (since we get to peep into people's backyards and cut across beautiful breath-taking plantations), the gruelling numbness of the butt is just too much to take.
But I wouldn't mind taking the train again though provided, either it is bound for Johor Bahru or it is an overnight train.
...
The trip has left me very inspired. Very very inspired, in fact.
You see. I am an authentic city-dweller. I like sports but I hate the sun because I am scared of freckles.
I hate outdoors because I dislike being sticky because I see all the dust specks sticking to me to emerge as black moles...and not to mention the potential pimples that may pop up.
Yes, I am vain somewhat. So frankly, I wouldn't really opt for outdoor activities too enthusiastically. This time, the trip occurred purely out of boredom.
I had gone with R: I was bored with the things we were doing together in Singapore. I had thought we could do something different...so when the notice came out, I signed up.
The fact is, I like trekking. I remember enjoying it very much when I was in Tioman. I remember I had wanted to do it again. I also remember the times a few of us trekked in Singapore and how I had enjoyed the flora and fauna.
But this trip was just different.
...
The activities were really interesting. In a nutshell, we visited the Orang Asli (the Baqet tribe), played with water in Lata Berkoh, trekked up Teresek Hill and explored Gua Telingga. We even had a night trek in the forest behind the resort.
Amidst the fact that it was humid and hot, I enjoyed myself. I thought I learnt a lot!
I learnt about why the Orang Asli leave the deceased on tree tops and why they moved to other plots of land (they are nomadic by nature). I also learnt about new 'wildlife' creatures like the fire centipede (because its legs are all red and its body is outlined red too), sweat bees, tree snake, toy-looking grasshopper, beetle-looking cockroach.
Most importantly, I was reminded about being "in the moment", something which I had kind of forgotten.
Amid each step I take as I climb up Teresek Hill, I had to be in the moment. It was not about looking forward to the cave or the summit. It was not about the night before. It was now (then). It was the now that will make that one step, should I fall or stand, should I be one step closer or remain.
That feeling is...real.
It was that very same feeling in the cave.
I had remembered distinctly that I had thought of turning back as I started out.
The cave entrance was puny, barely enough for a cat. And I was just stunned that I was going through it! It was dark, wet and soggy inside. I felt miserable.
And I so wanted to turn back! It was just too small, too uncomfortable...too suffocating...too...claustrophic for me. But, because I was in the middle, there was no way I could turn back. I just had to continue.
So, despite not being too certain if I will make it to the end (I suppose everyone can make it but remember my arch was still recovering), I just had to continue. And so I went.Across puddles of water. Into little drains. Past skinny slits. Under jaded edges. Some parts, I slided down with my butt and my hands. Other parts, I squeezed through laterally.
There was one portion of the cave that is just so prominent: The front part was a big rock and all left was a small hole, half of it was covered by water.
It had looked like a dead end to me. I was almost certain this was the end of the cave, that we had to turn back.
But when the guide told us to follow him and he disappeared practically behind the rock, I was like...OMG...
Yes, we had to duck-walk under the rock across the water to the other side quite literally.
As much as I tried, I couldn't stretch out my legs long enough and my shoes got wet. No choice, I had to get going. Continue..
I emerged. On the other side of the rock.
Towards the end, I got a bump on my head because I had missed the edge and had jutted my head out unknowingly, but my face was stil lit up with a smile.
That cave to me, wasn't easy at all, especially that one threatening rock.
But...the fact that I emerged (with the help of other people on the team--thanks!), I realize one thing:
If I could get past that cave, I don't think there is nothing in life that I can't get past.
Of course, it may not be a sole effort. Of course, we may need other people. But there is really nothing that will be a stumbling block.
As long as you believe.
As long as you put your faith to it.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
All the worms in the head
I am extremely restless today.
Not sure if it is because of my foot or my head.
As I type now, I am still nursing a strained arch. It does hurt, but I can still walk. When the pain gets too intense, I limp.
It turned out that my two feet were and are anatomically different, and that difference had resulted in my strained arch. Well, indirectly.
It is a chain reaction.
I remember walking out of the physiotherapist’s room thinking about “Why?” Not that I am a professional dancer or sports player or anything, but because of the disturbances it was creating in my life.
That I can only hobble. That I had to limp. That I can’t do much exercise.
Having said that though, now, I am glad.
Well, at least it wasn’t a broken leg or something. Or a fractured toe bone.
…
My mum was throwing tantrums last night.
I would have imagined that I didn’t cause it—but the fact that she threw the spoon into the sink in my presence and was wracking things in my presence leaves me unconvinced.
And don’t ask me what I did. I didn’t do anything.
The only thing I did was returning home!
I returned home with a heavy heart (if you remember, we hadn’t been talking much since sat when she insisted I am an idiot and I was stupid). Heavy heart because, I really didn’t feel like going home.
But too bad! There was nowhere I could go.
And so, as I whisked to quickly prepare my food (dinner was not ready), I thought about what I said to R.
I had told him that, if it were an exchange—that I trade a prepared dinner with nonsense—then I can take it. There was no reason to move out.
But what if that doesn’t hold anymore?
I found myself toying with the thought again.
My mum didn't even dry the laundry. My dad had to do it.
And I wouldn't do so agitated if my dad were retired. But he isn't.
And while I feel sorry for him (I offered to help him dry the laundry; he was sarcastic to me), there is nothing I can do.
There are many problems I would very much like to solve...but I can't, simply because they are not my businesses.
Never mind if I can analyse the problem. Never mind if I (think I) know where the problem may be.
It is not my business. Or so my parents would like to claim.
For a long time, I hadn't cried. But last night, I did.
I couldn't help not feeling sorry for myself. Shame on me, I know. We should never feel sorry for ourselves. There are always others in a worse plight.
I know that.
But I really cannot help it.
And I cannot help feeling dismayed that my mum is reverting to her nonsense.
And I cannot help feeling disappointed that no matter how much I give in and how hard I try, that the efforts are just fruitless.
And I cannot help thinking that I don't have the power to stop the chain reaction. This whole sequence of events that can be traced from the birth of my parents.
And I cannot help wondering if I can ever get out of this paradigm; if not, when I will succumb to this whole crazy nonsense.
When it will get into my head.
And crash me rotten.
Not sure if it is because of my foot or my head.
As I type now, I am still nursing a strained arch. It does hurt, but I can still walk. When the pain gets too intense, I limp.
It turned out that my two feet were and are anatomically different, and that difference had resulted in my strained arch. Well, indirectly.
It is a chain reaction.
I remember walking out of the physiotherapist’s room thinking about “Why?” Not that I am a professional dancer or sports player or anything, but because of the disturbances it was creating in my life.
That I can only hobble. That I had to limp. That I can’t do much exercise.
Having said that though, now, I am glad.
Well, at least it wasn’t a broken leg or something. Or a fractured toe bone.
…
My mum was throwing tantrums last night.
I would have imagined that I didn’t cause it—but the fact that she threw the spoon into the sink in my presence and was wracking things in my presence leaves me unconvinced.
And don’t ask me what I did. I didn’t do anything.
The only thing I did was returning home!
I returned home with a heavy heart (if you remember, we hadn’t been talking much since sat when she insisted I am an idiot and I was stupid). Heavy heart because, I really didn’t feel like going home.
But too bad! There was nowhere I could go.
And so, as I whisked to quickly prepare my food (dinner was not ready), I thought about what I said to R.
I had told him that, if it were an exchange—that I trade a prepared dinner with nonsense—then I can take it. There was no reason to move out.
But what if that doesn’t hold anymore?
I found myself toying with the thought again.
My mum didn't even dry the laundry. My dad had to do it.
And I wouldn't do so agitated if my dad were retired. But he isn't.
And while I feel sorry for him (I offered to help him dry the laundry; he was sarcastic to me), there is nothing I can do.
There are many problems I would very much like to solve...but I can't, simply because they are not my businesses.
Never mind if I can analyse the problem. Never mind if I (think I) know where the problem may be.
It is not my business. Or so my parents would like to claim.
For a long time, I hadn't cried. But last night, I did.
I couldn't help not feeling sorry for myself. Shame on me, I know. We should never feel sorry for ourselves. There are always others in a worse plight.
I know that.
But I really cannot help it.
And I cannot help feeling dismayed that my mum is reverting to her nonsense.
And I cannot help feeling disappointed that no matter how much I give in and how hard I try, that the efforts are just fruitless.
And I cannot help thinking that I don't have the power to stop the chain reaction. This whole sequence of events that can be traced from the birth of my parents.
And I cannot help wondering if I can ever get out of this paradigm; if not, when I will succumb to this whole crazy nonsense.
When it will get into my head.
And crash me rotten.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Better things to do..
For a long time, I hadn't attended dance class. And when I finally did--after immense encouragement from my friends and colleagues--I strained my foot.
Rather, more accurately, I sprained my arch.
It is weird that I can sprain my arch just like that. Just after one class. I think it was because the teacher didn't make us wear shoes.
Oh well. Too bad. Too late.
So I had to contend with limping home. It was a good thing R happened to pick me up from class yesterday. Else...alamak.
...
The dance class was surprisingly fun.
It felt different. Maybe because I don't feel so inhibited. Or maybe because I don't even care anymore.
I was talking with my colleague (my favourite colleague: Let's call her P) and she told me I should care less about perfection.
Like that time I played the violin for the archbishop, I should look at all these as a gift, and not as a venue for perfection.
I think she is right. These are all gifts that I should be thankful for. The gift of curiosity. The gift of enthusiasm.
...
My mum has not been talking to me for three days. I think it is three days; I don't know.
It started off from Sat, when she asked me to buy some vegetables and I had returned with something she wasn't quite expecting.
She had scolded me stupid, idiotic, moronic...well, the usual.
I had ignored her--I really cannot be bothered with her nonsense.
As much as she thinks I am stupid, I think she is just plain plain lazy.
Lazy and moronic.
So whatever she calls me, I just bat my eyelids and move on.
That night, interestingly, R asked me if my mum had changed.
How would she change???? I don't know.
She still always like to label people as selfish...when actually she is the one all of us have to give in too, for whatever we do...just to accomodate her.
She still thinks of others as being extremely inconsiderate, when she is the one that switches on the light and radio when people are still asleep.
She labels others as stupid...when she is obviously lazy.
She hadn't changed one bit, and I think it doesn't matter, because I know my ways of 'dealing' with her has changed at least.
R asked if I still wanted to live alone.
I said of course!!!
But it is because I can rationalize things out now that I don't feel so trapped and hence frustrated.
I think of it as...in exchange for all this humiliation and vengeful exchanges, I get a meal.
If I had stayed alone, I would probably be eating at 8pm.
So yeah, fair deal.
And since I am staying here still, I can be the cleaner of the house.
Saves me a sum of money when I get them a maid instead.
So yeah, fair deal.
...
So well, she can go on giving me the cold shoulder. I hadn't done anything wrong. She was the lazy one.
And if she wants to insist I am stupid and whatever and whatever, be my guest.
I have better things to do.
Rather, more accurately, I sprained my arch.
It is weird that I can sprain my arch just like that. Just after one class. I think it was because the teacher didn't make us wear shoes.
Oh well. Too bad. Too late.
So I had to contend with limping home. It was a good thing R happened to pick me up from class yesterday. Else...alamak.
...
The dance class was surprisingly fun.
It felt different. Maybe because I don't feel so inhibited. Or maybe because I don't even care anymore.
I was talking with my colleague (my favourite colleague: Let's call her P) and she told me I should care less about perfection.
Like that time I played the violin for the archbishop, I should look at all these as a gift, and not as a venue for perfection.
I think she is right. These are all gifts that I should be thankful for. The gift of curiosity. The gift of enthusiasm.
...
My mum has not been talking to me for three days. I think it is three days; I don't know.
It started off from Sat, when she asked me to buy some vegetables and I had returned with something she wasn't quite expecting.
She had scolded me stupid, idiotic, moronic...well, the usual.
I had ignored her--I really cannot be bothered with her nonsense.
As much as she thinks I am stupid, I think she is just plain plain lazy.
Lazy and moronic.
So whatever she calls me, I just bat my eyelids and move on.
That night, interestingly, R asked me if my mum had changed.
How would she change???? I don't know.
She still always like to label people as selfish...when actually she is the one all of us have to give in too, for whatever we do...just to accomodate her.
She still thinks of others as being extremely inconsiderate, when she is the one that switches on the light and radio when people are still asleep.
She labels others as stupid...when she is obviously lazy.
She hadn't changed one bit, and I think it doesn't matter, because I know my ways of 'dealing' with her has changed at least.
R asked if I still wanted to live alone.
I said of course!!!
But it is because I can rationalize things out now that I don't feel so trapped and hence frustrated.
I think of it as...in exchange for all this humiliation and vengeful exchanges, I get a meal.
If I had stayed alone, I would probably be eating at 8pm.
So yeah, fair deal.
And since I am staying here still, I can be the cleaner of the house.
Saves me a sum of money when I get them a maid instead.
So yeah, fair deal.
...
So well, she can go on giving me the cold shoulder. I hadn't done anything wrong. She was the lazy one.
And if she wants to insist I am stupid and whatever and whatever, be my guest.
I have better things to do.
Monday, May 4, 2009
(They say that) I am not focused
As I was reading the entries in my previous blog, I realize I kind of like those entries more.
I think there were more words of wisdom written in there. But of course, because they started on a dark note. It is like starting from the valley. There is a considerable distance towards the top. If one starts from the top, then naturally, there is no more distance.
...
I think my life has been very ordinary, and almost becoming typical.
Not that it is a bad thing. Not at all, in fact.
I mean, it is better to be at ease and in peace with predictable happenings of the day than to be plagued into undesirable circumstances that catch one unawares.
But amidst that ordinariness, I think I am just degrading.
Into laziness and procrastination personified.
...
I didn't get the scholarship.
I didn't even get through to the interview stage! That shows how low my standard is.
And while I'd expected it, I am still feeling disappointed and sad.
I still wonder, what would have happened had I not walked away from Science?
What would have happened had I, when my boss then gave me the offer to work in the Japanese lab, stayed?
I mean, no one will know. No one can know.
Sometimes, I also end up wondering, what would have happened had I learnt ballet instead of piano?
How different would I be? How different would I have become?
No one will know. No one can know.
And so all I have with me is that disappointment.
I can try to console myself with many things: like how I am not that keen on Science actually; I just figured I was more passionate about the brain than I am for any other thing.
Like how PhD will take another three to four years and I would be in my thirties then, realizing that I haven't really led a life.
Like how much harder my parents will need to work in spite of their frail body and bitter bones, should I really get through.
I can say many things--but those, don't take away the feelings of 'lousiness' I feel inside.
R said I am not lousy. I am just not focused.
Am I not focused? I had thought it was the contrary.
R said, had I been more focused, I would have learnt whatever I needed to learn. I would have learnt more about the technique. I would have acquired sufficient skills to gain employment.
R said, had I been more focused, I would have achieved more things.
...and I don't know what to think of it.
Can I ever be focused? I have thought that I am focused.
I don't know...
For now, I only know that I have been struggling with that feeling of the lack of accomplishment since...last week.
I want to see it in a positive light. I want to see it as God not giving me the route because it is something that I wasn't meant to do.
Fine.
Then can someone pls tell me what I am meant to do?
I think there were more words of wisdom written in there. But of course, because they started on a dark note. It is like starting from the valley. There is a considerable distance towards the top. If one starts from the top, then naturally, there is no more distance.
...
I think my life has been very ordinary, and almost becoming typical.
Not that it is a bad thing. Not at all, in fact.
I mean, it is better to be at ease and in peace with predictable happenings of the day than to be plagued into undesirable circumstances that catch one unawares.
But amidst that ordinariness, I think I am just degrading.
Into laziness and procrastination personified.
...
I didn't get the scholarship.
I didn't even get through to the interview stage! That shows how low my standard is.
And while I'd expected it, I am still feeling disappointed and sad.
I still wonder, what would have happened had I not walked away from Science?
What would have happened had I, when my boss then gave me the offer to work in the Japanese lab, stayed?
I mean, no one will know. No one can know.
Sometimes, I also end up wondering, what would have happened had I learnt ballet instead of piano?
How different would I be? How different would I have become?
No one will know. No one can know.
And so all I have with me is that disappointment.
I can try to console myself with many things: like how I am not that keen on Science actually; I just figured I was more passionate about the brain than I am for any other thing.
Like how PhD will take another three to four years and I would be in my thirties then, realizing that I haven't really led a life.
Like how much harder my parents will need to work in spite of their frail body and bitter bones, should I really get through.
I can say many things--but those, don't take away the feelings of 'lousiness' I feel inside.
R said I am not lousy. I am just not focused.
Am I not focused? I had thought it was the contrary.
R said, had I been more focused, I would have learnt whatever I needed to learn. I would have learnt more about the technique. I would have acquired sufficient skills to gain employment.
R said, had I been more focused, I would have achieved more things.
...and I don't know what to think of it.
Can I ever be focused? I have thought that I am focused.
I don't know...
For now, I only know that I have been struggling with that feeling of the lack of accomplishment since...last week.
I want to see it in a positive light. I want to see it as God not giving me the route because it is something that I wasn't meant to do.
Fine.
Then can someone pls tell me what I am meant to do?
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