This morning at the office, we received news of an ex-colleague’s passing from a cardiac arrest. He leaves behind an elderly wife, who is still having problems accepting the fact that he is not around anymore.
This is the second such news I have received in the last 2 months. Last month, SB’s young friend passed away from stomach cancer, one week after being diagnosed, without a chance to even say goodbye to his young wife due to situational issues.
I was, and still am very, very affected by these passings happening so close to home. Death by itself is already sad enough when one can see it coming, but when it happens without any warning, it enters the realm of the tragic.
I find it very hard to concentrate on work this morning, even though a crisis has arisen at work and needs my attention. Maybe I am particularly sensitive because we have experienced some of this in the family, though it has been some years. But such things don’t go away entirely. SB nearly had a nervous breakdown some weeks past because of all these fears, and while I have more stoic nerves and can handle it better, I am no less affected.
It is going to be another long, sad day.
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Monday, 19 July 2010
Saturday, 2 January 2010
MY PARENT'S LEGACIES AND OUR ONE DREAM
My parents will never, ever be able to leave us legacies of millions of dollars. But SB and I will always thank them most gratefully for the legacies they did pass on to us, which have benefitted us so much, and enriched our lives like nothing else has done, before they even pass on. By this, I refer to our love of books and music.
Love of literature and music seemed to be bred in our genes. And my parents did all they could to nurture and encourage this love. My parents were voracious readers themselves, only financial constraints prevented them from being able to read more than they could. I never really remembered a time when I had gone without extra-curricular reading material since I learnt my letters. Even at our poorest, there was a trip to the library every so often. And if we kids could not make the trip for any reason, my mother went and picked out books for us. I think of some of the nonchalent, and worse, discouraging parents I encounter in bookstores these days, and I thank whoever is in charge that my parents are who they are. I have met parents who have refused their children story books because these interfere with their school work proper, and I know I will meet these children again in their future reincarnation as adults who will be unable phrase a simple email at work properly.
And my parents loved music. Dad played the percussion and the flute in the Chinese Orchestra when he was younger. I could hardly even talk when my mother taught me to sing. My father started me on the piano at age six, and all through my student years until I graduated from University, I played the trumpet in the band. When I was twenty one, I asked for my own trumpet for my coming of age birthday. Today, it gathers dust in the depths of my wardrobe, but I never forgot the thrill of making music, the beauty of a perfectly tuned chord, of playing the solos for Vaughn Williams' English Folk Song Suite, of knowing that those beautiful sounds originated from me. SB sang her way through life, through vocal chords damaged from acid reflux, and is still singing. Under very different circumstances, she might have made Broadway professionally, who knows?
SB and I have always had a common dream of running our own business that is somehow related to our first loves in life - books and/or music. We have talked about it forever, but seldom been able to really get a grasp on a realistic slant. So it has been more day dreams and idle talk than anything else. But recently, perhaps due to our respective discontent with our chosen pathways in life, we have started discussing more seriously.
Our germ of an idea involves a bookstore, dealing mainly in children's classics, which are being forgotten among all the new publications of today. I would also like to deal in hard-to-find, out-of-print publications, like my favourite Chalet School series. We both love our children's classics; they are classics because there is something about them that will not allow them to be forgotten in the minds of those who read them before. Classics are links between generations, a common topic, so to speak. These are the same stories our mothers read, and in some cases, our mothers' mothers and even further down the chain. Their loss would mean a discontinuity in the social fabric, however insignificant (This is a somewhat incoherent repeat of a quote from SB, who hopes to one day call herself a social scientist).
I did say I would love to own my own "Shop Around The Corner", didn't I?
It may just remain only a germ of an idea in our day dreams and never take off. But at our respective lowest points in our professional lives, having a dream like this is a life saver. We will, both of us, continue to read, and dream, read some more, dream some more, and maybe, just maybe, we will also one day have a legacy to pass on.
Love of literature and music seemed to be bred in our genes. And my parents did all they could to nurture and encourage this love. My parents were voracious readers themselves, only financial constraints prevented them from being able to read more than they could. I never really remembered a time when I had gone without extra-curricular reading material since I learnt my letters. Even at our poorest, there was a trip to the library every so often. And if we kids could not make the trip for any reason, my mother went and picked out books for us. I think of some of the nonchalent, and worse, discouraging parents I encounter in bookstores these days, and I thank whoever is in charge that my parents are who they are. I have met parents who have refused their children story books because these interfere with their school work proper, and I know I will meet these children again in their future reincarnation as adults who will be unable phrase a simple email at work properly.
And my parents loved music. Dad played the percussion and the flute in the Chinese Orchestra when he was younger. I could hardly even talk when my mother taught me to sing. My father started me on the piano at age six, and all through my student years until I graduated from University, I played the trumpet in the band. When I was twenty one, I asked for my own trumpet for my coming of age birthday. Today, it gathers dust in the depths of my wardrobe, but I never forgot the thrill of making music, the beauty of a perfectly tuned chord, of playing the solos for Vaughn Williams' English Folk Song Suite, of knowing that those beautiful sounds originated from me. SB sang her way through life, through vocal chords damaged from acid reflux, and is still singing. Under very different circumstances, she might have made Broadway professionally, who knows?
SB and I have always had a common dream of running our own business that is somehow related to our first loves in life - books and/or music. We have talked about it forever, but seldom been able to really get a grasp on a realistic slant. So it has been more day dreams and idle talk than anything else. But recently, perhaps due to our respective discontent with our chosen pathways in life, we have started discussing more seriously.
Our germ of an idea involves a bookstore, dealing mainly in children's classics, which are being forgotten among all the new publications of today. I would also like to deal in hard-to-find, out-of-print publications, like my favourite Chalet School series. We both love our children's classics; they are classics because there is something about them that will not allow them to be forgotten in the minds of those who read them before. Classics are links between generations, a common topic, so to speak. These are the same stories our mothers read, and in some cases, our mothers' mothers and even further down the chain. Their loss would mean a discontinuity in the social fabric, however insignificant (This is a somewhat incoherent repeat of a quote from SB, who hopes to one day call herself a social scientist).
I did say I would love to own my own "Shop Around The Corner", didn't I?
It may just remain only a germ of an idea in our day dreams and never take off. But at our respective lowest points in our professional lives, having a dream like this is a life saver. We will, both of us, continue to read, and dream, read some more, dream some more, and maybe, just maybe, we will also one day have a legacy to pass on.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
"A PRECIOUS JEWEL", AND MY READING PREFERENCES
I didn't manage to do as much reading as I thought to during my "lying in". For one thing, it is a bit awkward trying to hold a new paperback open without creasing the spine when one has an IV inserted in one hand. I hate pain, and I try to avoid contortions that might torture me. Having the book snap shut on me several times in a roll tends to curtail my reading pleasure somewhat.
I still managed to finish "A Precious Jewel" by Mary Balogh though. In fact, I could hardly put it down, pain in the hand or not. Which is a major surprise, since I bought this book against everything my brain was telling me. But my heart wanted the book, and in the end I didn't regret the impulse.
It is not your standard formula for Regency romance and far from meeting my usual requirements in plotlines. As far as I understand, the book almost didn't get written, because the initial feedback to the author's ideas were pretty negative. When you have a working prostitute, and a beta hero featured in a Regency setting, it sounds like an impossible deal - how do you get them to their Happily Ever After (HEA)? And how do you even make the characters likeable in a setting which typically revers eighteen year old virgins and alpha peers?
Anyway, she did it, and beautifully. I didn't want to put down the book at all. I wanted there to be any number of epilogues for my heart to continue pounding over how beautiful that love was.
Reading "A Precious Jewel" also made me conscious of the changes in my choice of reading material and plotlines over the years, from the day I first found out about adult romance novels at the tender age of thirteen. "A Precious Jewel" would never have made my list a few years ago, whatever my heart says. My reading preferences were extremely strict all the way up to my early twenties. The heroine had to be young, toothsome and most importantly, a virgin (I could just barely tolerate some little experience in modern settings). The hero, alpha naturally, older, good in bed (haha, as if any popular romance writer ever had a hero who had that kind of dysfunctionality) etc etc. No baggage of any kind - ex-spouses, lost loves, children etc etc. You get the picture. And don't forget the HEA. It was a foregone conclusion. It was extremely hard for me to get suitable books. I used to spend hours and hours in bookstores with dismal findings. And when I find an author who writes the way I like, I go after her backlist like a dog after a juicy bone.
Needless to say, I could never send anyone on bookshopping trips for me. It would have taken half the day just to enumerate the various criteria. And no friends ever gave me books as presents, even though everyone knew I loved to read. Ten out of ten, it would have contained something that will not pass my criteria.
I attribute that "era" to youth and idealism. Those things that I wanted in my romance novels then were things that I wanted for myself in life, and more importantly, they were still within my grasp. It wasn't just a fairy tale, it could still happen in real life the way I wanted it to. I had probably projected what I wanted out of real life into my requirements for my reading material, or vice versa, I don't know.
As I age, the reality changes. My reality has changed, hence, my reading preferences with it. My own dewy eyed, fresh faced era is gone, I am a slightly jaded, somewhat cynical woman now, and that is now reflected in the books that I read. Naive eighteen year old virgins needing masculine protection gave way to twenty seven year old shrews, who were smart and independent. A little sexual experience now seems sexy rather than crass. Overly alpha heros now border on outright chauvanism. A little
'beta-ness" can go a long way yet. "Cougar" heroines, hmm....why not? Today, a little baggage is acceptable.
That is not to say that my reading preferences has become a free-for-all suddenly. There is still one barrier that I have not been able to cross - the concept of only "One Great Love in Life" as opposed to "Second Chance At Love". I still believe, even at the venerable age of thirty one going on thirty two, that a person has only one great love in life, one that no other love will ever measure up to. And if that love is curtailed for whatever reason, there will be no other. I know reality says otherwise, but I have not had the occasion to experience that reality (and never hope to).
Which is why I avoid stories about finding a second love like the plague, because I can't imagine loving as much the second time if the first love is a true one. Such a storyline inevitably gives me the feeling that the protagonist has settled for second best the second time. It makes me question that should the protagonist be faced with his first and second love simultaneously, what would his choice be then? And whichever he makes, I would always feel that someone had been shortchanged.
It was interesting to note the changes in my own reading preferences, and to wonder what path it will take in the years to come. I had not really thought to chart my own emotional growth through changes in my reading material, but now that I have had some time to think about it, it seems only natural for a book-lover like me.
I still have piles of books to wade through in between HBO movies. I'll get on with it now. You will be hearing from me real soon.
I still managed to finish "A Precious Jewel" by Mary Balogh though. In fact, I could hardly put it down, pain in the hand or not. Which is a major surprise, since I bought this book against everything my brain was telling me. But my heart wanted the book, and in the end I didn't regret the impulse.
It is not your standard formula for Regency romance and far from meeting my usual requirements in plotlines. As far as I understand, the book almost didn't get written, because the initial feedback to the author's ideas were pretty negative. When you have a working prostitute, and a beta hero featured in a Regency setting, it sounds like an impossible deal - how do you get them to their Happily Ever After (HEA)? And how do you even make the characters likeable in a setting which typically revers eighteen year old virgins and alpha peers?
Anyway, she did it, and beautifully. I didn't want to put down the book at all. I wanted there to be any number of epilogues for my heart to continue pounding over how beautiful that love was.
Reading "A Precious Jewel" also made me conscious of the changes in my choice of reading material and plotlines over the years, from the day I first found out about adult romance novels at the tender age of thirteen. "A Precious Jewel" would never have made my list a few years ago, whatever my heart says. My reading preferences were extremely strict all the way up to my early twenties. The heroine had to be young, toothsome and most importantly, a virgin (I could just barely tolerate some little experience in modern settings). The hero, alpha naturally, older, good in bed (haha, as if any popular romance writer ever had a hero who had that kind of dysfunctionality) etc etc. No baggage of any kind - ex-spouses, lost loves, children etc etc. You get the picture. And don't forget the HEA. It was a foregone conclusion. It was extremely hard for me to get suitable books. I used to spend hours and hours in bookstores with dismal findings. And when I find an author who writes the way I like, I go after her backlist like a dog after a juicy bone.
Needless to say, I could never send anyone on bookshopping trips for me. It would have taken half the day just to enumerate the various criteria. And no friends ever gave me books as presents, even though everyone knew I loved to read. Ten out of ten, it would have contained something that will not pass my criteria.
I attribute that "era" to youth and idealism. Those things that I wanted in my romance novels then were things that I wanted for myself in life, and more importantly, they were still within my grasp. It wasn't just a fairy tale, it could still happen in real life the way I wanted it to. I had probably projected what I wanted out of real life into my requirements for my reading material, or vice versa, I don't know.
As I age, the reality changes. My reality has changed, hence, my reading preferences with it. My own dewy eyed, fresh faced era is gone, I am a slightly jaded, somewhat cynical woman now, and that is now reflected in the books that I read. Naive eighteen year old virgins needing masculine protection gave way to twenty seven year old shrews, who were smart and independent. A little sexual experience now seems sexy rather than crass. Overly alpha heros now border on outright chauvanism. A little
'beta-ness" can go a long way yet. "Cougar" heroines, hmm....why not? Today, a little baggage is acceptable.
That is not to say that my reading preferences has become a free-for-all suddenly. There is still one barrier that I have not been able to cross - the concept of only "One Great Love in Life" as opposed to "Second Chance At Love". I still believe, even at the venerable age of thirty one going on thirty two, that a person has only one great love in life, one that no other love will ever measure up to. And if that love is curtailed for whatever reason, there will be no other. I know reality says otherwise, but I have not had the occasion to experience that reality (and never hope to).
Which is why I avoid stories about finding a second love like the plague, because I can't imagine loving as much the second time if the first love is a true one. Such a storyline inevitably gives me the feeling that the protagonist has settled for second best the second time. It makes me question that should the protagonist be faced with his first and second love simultaneously, what would his choice be then? And whichever he makes, I would always feel that someone had been shortchanged.
It was interesting to note the changes in my own reading preferences, and to wonder what path it will take in the years to come. I had not really thought to chart my own emotional growth through changes in my reading material, but now that I have had some time to think about it, it seems only natural for a book-lover like me.
I still have piles of books to wade through in between HBO movies. I'll get on with it now. You will be hearing from me real soon.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
DON'T ASK ME HOW I AM
I am tired of having to keep answering questions on my health.
I probably sound like an ungrateful bitch. I probably am an ungrateful bitch. I am very grateful to all the people who have been so concerned about me. But it gets tiring repeating the same things over and over again. Add to that the fact that I absolutely have no diagnosis on my problem(s) yet and I don't know what is going to happen next. "How are you now?" now heads my list of most dreaded questions.
I am also not sure that I actually care whether there is anything physically wrong with me. I am not sure if if I actually care about anything at this very moment. There is this sense of ennui intersperse with occasional bouts of panic that I am headed in a very wrong direction but I don't know how to pull myself back. I feel like I am just existing day to day in some kind of vaccuum. And the more I feel like this, the more I don't feel like interacting, or reaching out to people. It feels rather comfortable in this emotionless, isolated state, although those occasional sense of panic disturbs me. But it is easy enough to smother them and continue with status quo.
The thought has occurred to me that I am perhaps suffering from some form of depression or....something. I don't know. It is not that I feel sad, or desperate or keep having morbid, suicidal thoughts, or anything. I just don't care. And I don't want to talk. I don't know if seeing a shrink will change anything, seeing that I don't much believe in the institution of psychiatry. And I don't think I care for more medication. As a matter of fact, I had wondered if the cocktail of medicines I am taking currently is accounting for my current emotional state.
So I just have to wait for it to pass, I guess. I don't suppose I would come to any great harm in the meantime. I was told by the "prophet" from the "holy mountain" that my ba zhi (eight characters) indicate that I would have a relatively smooth and easy life, kind of a charmed life, if you will. I guess I would have to put my faith that he is right, and I would weather whatever I am currently going through perfectly fine.
In the meantime, please don't ask me how I am. Thank you so very much. :)
I probably sound like an ungrateful bitch. I probably am an ungrateful bitch. I am very grateful to all the people who have been so concerned about me. But it gets tiring repeating the same things over and over again. Add to that the fact that I absolutely have no diagnosis on my problem(s) yet and I don't know what is going to happen next. "How are you now?" now heads my list of most dreaded questions.
I am also not sure that I actually care whether there is anything physically wrong with me. I am not sure if if I actually care about anything at this very moment. There is this sense of ennui intersperse with occasional bouts of panic that I am headed in a very wrong direction but I don't know how to pull myself back. I feel like I am just existing day to day in some kind of vaccuum. And the more I feel like this, the more I don't feel like interacting, or reaching out to people. It feels rather comfortable in this emotionless, isolated state, although those occasional sense of panic disturbs me. But it is easy enough to smother them and continue with status quo.
The thought has occurred to me that I am perhaps suffering from some form of depression or....something. I don't know. It is not that I feel sad, or desperate or keep having morbid, suicidal thoughts, or anything. I just don't care. And I don't want to talk. I don't know if seeing a shrink will change anything, seeing that I don't much believe in the institution of psychiatry. And I don't think I care for more medication. As a matter of fact, I had wondered if the cocktail of medicines I am taking currently is accounting for my current emotional state.
So I just have to wait for it to pass, I guess. I don't suppose I would come to any great harm in the meantime. I was told by the "prophet" from the "holy mountain" that my ba zhi (eight characters) indicate that I would have a relatively smooth and easy life, kind of a charmed life, if you will. I guess I would have to put my faith that he is right, and I would weather whatever I am currently going through perfectly fine.
In the meantime, please don't ask me how I am. Thank you so very much. :)
Sunday, 20 September 2009
SIGNS OF LIFE
Finally….some signs of life….
I haven’t felt much like blogging recently. Oh, things do still pass through my head. I come across something interesting and I still think “Wow, I want to write about that.” My life is still moving on, but I get this incredible resistance when I think about sitting down in front of the computer, much less switch it on and blog about it.
In actual fact, I have rarely switched on my computer these few weeks. I got extremely grumpy the other day when I was forced to switch on my PC to check on some online application status for my mother. I have not updated some personal logs for weeks, and goodness only knows what is going on in Facebook and the various blogs I have been following, because I have not been updating.
I get these moods sometimes, where I simply feel like being out of touch with the world. During these periods, I am anti-communication technology. I hate to come into contact with computers, mobile phones etc, anything which has the ability to connect me to the world at large. Even the ringing of the house landline irritates the hell out of me. Basically, I check my emails and answer calls and reply SMSes about once in a blue moon during this time. It would have proven most inconvenient, if I hadn’t lost quite a few of my friends and acquaintances the last time the mood struck, so there are less people who I need to communicate with these days. Haha. In fact, most people around me are now aware of this quirk of mine and take it in their stride (with a few swear words) if they can’t get me.
I swear….it is almost exhilarating to go on a communication sabbatical once a while.
These moods normally coincide with my feeling extremely down. The typical “I don’t want to talk” moods that husbands sometimes subject wives to (haha), but this is between me and the whole world. So I mope around and brood, generally feeling unhappy. Been reading a lot to take my mind of things, but like all forms of escape, it works up to a point, and then we have got to sit up and face the world.
My unhappiness, of course, revolves mainly around the “work doldrums” that I have been in for close to year. A year! Have I really been down in the dumps for that long? When one gets to a certain age, the old adage no longer applies. Time passes quickly no matter if one is happy or not. And it doesn’t even feel like the unhappy times will be over all the quicker. It just feels like no matter how fast I run, it is still raining in front, and I will still get wet. So I will only get older faster…while feeling bad.
I have had so many discussions with myself, family, friends, colleagues on the whole “work doldrums” thing, trying to see what kind of changes I should and most importantly, can make to make myself feel better. The thought of feeling like this for the next forty years of my life, just horrifies me. I just cannot bear to think of it….hence all the escapism…but….I also cannot continue like this, so I must face the music and make a decision.
Nice thought.
But, I draw a blank.
Because I am a poor, greedy, lazy, cowardly and untalented peep, that’s why. I don’t like what I’m doing now, but at the same time, NO other options are acceptable because they all either require capital, special skills, risk taking, or all three, or will give me less money than I get now. I basically want to have my cake and to eat it too.
Heck, even a prostitute or rich man’s mistress has to have some face and figure and some schmooze ability. Oh yes, that option did come up.
I think I had the right of it in my profile description. I want all the time (and money) in the world to do nothing.
Oh, the truth hurts.
So after all the soul searching, there is still no conclusion.
And so I continue status quo. And hope and pray that any one or all of these happen in the near future:
- Mum strikes lottery
- Money drops from the sky
- I meet a rich man who will take care of me and mine for the rest of my life
- SB meets a rich man who will take care of her and hers (which means including me) for the rest of her (and my) life.
We all know the odds of the above happening.
But, darn it, a girl’s got to do something when she can’t do anything.
Sunday, 30 August 2009
FAMILY TOGETHEREDNESS
SB is back from Tokyo for a short three-week holiday.
Although I really do not want to inflate her ego any larger than it currently is, life feels colourful again with her around. Despite our extremely opposite natures and outlook in life, there is really no substitute for each other’s company. There is no subterfuge with each other.
Family times feel happier, as the parents wallow in the joy of having the family complete together again. And of course, SB has been playing filial daughter these three weeks, supposedly to make up for the times when she couldn’t be with them physically, a sharp contrast to my usual un-interactive self.
Three weeks is two thirds over. Another week or so and we have to say goodbye, till we next meet again. Another two weeks to get over the emptiness in the adjacent bedroom until next February. Rinse and repeat for another three years. And then we may be able to open the family home doors to welcome back Dr SB. T, future professor, Media Studies, XX University; the dearest wish of my ever-ambitious daddy.
For me, it is enough that SB, sister of JT, comes back to roost in the same nest. To share leisurely afternoon teas in chi-chi hotels, to pore over magazines, discuss haute couture and share strategies for catching rich expat husbands or young toy-boy lovers, to discuss whether we prefer Carrie Bradshaw’s or Samantha Jones’ lifestyles.
Goodbye, till we meet again then, Doc.
Although I really do not want to inflate her ego any larger than it currently is, life feels colourful again with her around. Despite our extremely opposite natures and outlook in life, there is really no substitute for each other’s company. There is no subterfuge with each other.
Family times feel happier, as the parents wallow in the joy of having the family complete together again. And of course, SB has been playing filial daughter these three weeks, supposedly to make up for the times when she couldn’t be with them physically, a sharp contrast to my usual un-interactive self.
Three weeks is two thirds over. Another week or so and we have to say goodbye, till we next meet again. Another two weeks to get over the emptiness in the adjacent bedroom until next February. Rinse and repeat for another three years. And then we may be able to open the family home doors to welcome back Dr SB. T, future professor, Media Studies, XX University; the dearest wish of my ever-ambitious daddy.
For me, it is enough that SB, sister of JT, comes back to roost in the same nest. To share leisurely afternoon teas in chi-chi hotels, to pore over magazines, discuss haute couture and share strategies for catching rich expat husbands or young toy-boy lovers, to discuss whether we prefer Carrie Bradshaw’s or Samantha Jones’ lifestyles.
Goodbye, till we meet again then, Doc.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
THE VERDICT IS OUT
The verdict is out; there will be a wage freeze for me this year. All managerial grades M and above shall receive no salary increment this year.
Which is not so bad really, considering the unemployment situations, wage cuts etc that many others are facing. Still, it is a disappointment, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting otherwise.
That said, when I read about the potential big bonuses that await those who brought this whole brouhaha to into being in the first place, there is an urge to…..maybe hire a contract killer, or concoct some Molotov cocktails or something. It is a good thing I am miles away from Wall Street.
I am convinced after all that it really doesn’t pay to go into engineering. You work hard, save your money, and somehow it ends up in the pocket of the lawyers and bankers. I really should have chosen my profession with more care years ago.
It is not too late though. The option to switch to a legal career is still open, though it may involve some maneuvering and opportunity costs on my side. The question now is whether I will be able stand an entire lifetime of spouting and interpreting legalese. And being the butt of lawyer jokes. I am still pondering this question. And knowing me, it will take me until the next decade, if at all, to come up with an answer and make a decision.
In the meantime, I shall have to go and do some magic with numbers and see what this wage freeze will do to my personal budget. And maybe look up the recipe for Molotov cocktails.
Which is not so bad really, considering the unemployment situations, wage cuts etc that many others are facing. Still, it is a disappointment, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting otherwise.
That said, when I read about the potential big bonuses that await those who brought this whole brouhaha to into being in the first place, there is an urge to…..maybe hire a contract killer, or concoct some Molotov cocktails or something. It is a good thing I am miles away from Wall Street.
I am convinced after all that it really doesn’t pay to go into engineering. You work hard, save your money, and somehow it ends up in the pocket of the lawyers and bankers. I really should have chosen my profession with more care years ago.
It is not too late though. The option to switch to a legal career is still open, though it may involve some maneuvering and opportunity costs on my side. The question now is whether I will be able stand an entire lifetime of spouting and interpreting legalese. And being the butt of lawyer jokes. I am still pondering this question. And knowing me, it will take me until the next decade, if at all, to come up with an answer and make a decision.
In the meantime, I shall have to go and do some magic with numbers and see what this wage freeze will do to my personal budget. And maybe look up the recipe for Molotov cocktails.
Sunday, 19 July 2009
WORD PLAY
Self-righteouness - a feeling of smug moral superiority derived from a sense that one's beliefs, actions, or affiliations are of greater virtue than those of the average person
Hubris - overbearing pride or presumption
For some reason, these two words have been tumbling around in my mind today.
Edit: some more words spinning around my brain -
Irony (verbal) - disparity of expression and intention: when a speaker says one thing but means another
Irony (situational) - disparity of intention and result: when the result of an action is contrary to the desired or expected effect
Hypocrisy - the act of pretending to have beliefs, opinions, virtues, feelings, qualities or standards that one does not actually have. Hypocrisy typically comes from a desire to mask actual motives or feelings, or from a person's inability to conform to standards they espouse.
Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.
Edit: I think my subconscious is definitely yelling at me to get it.
I think I get the message.
Edit: Yes, I got it.
Hubris - overbearing pride or presumption
For some reason, these two words have been tumbling around in my mind today.
Edit: some more words spinning around my brain -
Irony (verbal) - disparity of expression and intention: when a speaker says one thing but means another
Irony (situational) - disparity of intention and result: when the result of an action is contrary to the desired or expected effect
Hypocrisy - the act of pretending to have beliefs, opinions, virtues, feelings, qualities or standards that one does not actually have. Hypocrisy typically comes from a desire to mask actual motives or feelings, or from a person's inability to conform to standards they espouse.
Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.
Edit: I think my subconscious is definitely yelling at me to get it.
I think I get the message.
Edit: Yes, I got it.
HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY
Some things happened recently to remind me that as much as we sometimes think we have a gift for knowing what people are thinking and feeling, as much as we trust our instincts regarding people around us, none of us are, ultimately, mind readers or omniscient.
And while it is human to judge, it is also human to err. We should all allow for some margin of error in our judgment, and perhaps not be too hasty in our actions, especially if these actions are based on nothing more than what our instincts or what we feel is the situation. Evidence may be circumstantial and non-conclusive. We may be right in attributing certain thinking and hidden agendas to certain people, then again, we may be wrong, or at least, we may not be completely spot-on. And even being a little bit off may result in much misunderstanding and misery.
And of course, how ye judge, ye may be judged.
I have to remind myself constantly on the above, and even then, it is harder in practice than in theory.
It seems that even when one is minding one’s own business, there will always be other people who put a spin on one’s actions and deem otherwise. Is it any wonder that some people prefer a loner existence away from other people? Then there would be no complex psychology to navigate, no question of error, of thinking through every action or reaction.
Newton formulated his Third Law of Physics – and we can now accurately formulate the reaction of every physical action. I wish some social scientist would come forth with a Third Law of Human Psychology, and save us all the trouble of navigating in the dark.
And while it is human to judge, it is also human to err. We should all allow for some margin of error in our judgment, and perhaps not be too hasty in our actions, especially if these actions are based on nothing more than what our instincts or what we feel is the situation. Evidence may be circumstantial and non-conclusive. We may be right in attributing certain thinking and hidden agendas to certain people, then again, we may be wrong, or at least, we may not be completely spot-on. And even being a little bit off may result in much misunderstanding and misery.
And of course, how ye judge, ye may be judged.
I have to remind myself constantly on the above, and even then, it is harder in practice than in theory.
It seems that even when one is minding one’s own business, there will always be other people who put a spin on one’s actions and deem otherwise. Is it any wonder that some people prefer a loner existence away from other people? Then there would be no complex psychology to navigate, no question of error, of thinking through every action or reaction.
Newton formulated his Third Law of Physics – and we can now accurately formulate the reaction of every physical action. I wish some social scientist would come forth with a Third Law of Human Psychology, and save us all the trouble of navigating in the dark.
Sunday, 12 July 2009
A GROOVY KIND OF LIFE
I have been feeling rather lost and directionless these past few weeks.
I am a very “groovy” person, as in, I function best when I am moving along in a greased groove. I have very high inertia, which means that once something derails me from my movement along the groove, I stop moving. And it takes major effort to get me going again.
The illness of the few weeks past was a major derailing factor. I have not managed to get into groove again since then, be it training, diet, work or personal life. I feel in limbo and cannot get the energy up to put things in place. It doesn’t help that I am having major resistance to work due to various issues that I have been whining about in my last few posts.
At the same time, I am also feeling anti-social and totally “hermity”. I don’t feel like to talking to anyone; I just want to be left alone. I am sure the anti-social feeling is tied somewhat to my feeling out of groove.
Tomorrow is the day I have planned to snap out of it all, and get back to normal. It sounds unrealistic, but having a fixed day to get into groove kind of works, most of the time. So I only have the rest of this afternoon to continue my in-limbo existence, which is not so bad actually, if I didn’t need to make a living and lose some weight.
I am a very “groovy” person, as in, I function best when I am moving along in a greased groove. I have very high inertia, which means that once something derails me from my movement along the groove, I stop moving. And it takes major effort to get me going again.
The illness of the few weeks past was a major derailing factor. I have not managed to get into groove again since then, be it training, diet, work or personal life. I feel in limbo and cannot get the energy up to put things in place. It doesn’t help that I am having major resistance to work due to various issues that I have been whining about in my last few posts.
At the same time, I am also feeling anti-social and totally “hermity”. I don’t feel like to talking to anyone; I just want to be left alone. I am sure the anti-social feeling is tied somewhat to my feeling out of groove.
Tomorrow is the day I have planned to snap out of it all, and get back to normal. It sounds unrealistic, but having a fixed day to get into groove kind of works, most of the time. So I only have the rest of this afternoon to continue my in-limbo existence, which is not so bad actually, if I didn’t need to make a living and lose some weight.
FRUGALITY AND ME
We discussed getting me a mortgage this morning, me and Dad.
The conclusion was that if I wanted to join the ranks of property owners in Singapore, I would have to give up all the other parts of my life, and assume Scrooge’s existence for the next ten years, and I may just be able to scrap by and own my own condominium apartment. If an en-bloc sale happens in the meantime, that’s a bonus, but another financial crisis might just see me screwed.
Just five years ago, it wouldn’t have seemed like too much hardship. But I have gotten too used to the good life these few years. The Good Life sneaks up on one insidiously. Sitting down to pare down my budget to see if there was any chance I could manage a property investment, I only just realise how used to high living I have been. Stuff that I would have once considered dispensable, suddenly threatened to affect my quality of life so majorly that I feel myself hesitating in cutting the strings.
Investment or not, I have come to the conclusion that it was time I got myself used to frugality again. Stuff like no more shopping (yeah, I’ve said this like about a hundred times), no more cabbing, no more restaurant meals every other day, I can still handle. I can give up the pampering stuff like facials, massages etc. However, the biggest bulk of my expenditure now goes to keeping up with my fitness regime….and it is a pain in the neck to decide how to pare that down. Give up the exclusive strength training and train by myself, or give up the Muay Thai lessons? Cutting out either one of these or both would give an instant boost in my savings.
Why the difficulty? Because I have invested more than money in my whole fitness regime. It represents the source of my self confidence, it gives variety to my otherwise monotonous life and it is a major source of socializing for me outside work. It plays a major role in defining who I am at this point in time.
With some creative accounting skills, and hopefully a lot of discipline on my part, I managed to keep both in my budgeting. But I am thinking it is time to wean myself from one or both, unless this August brings good news on salary increment front.
We will see how successful I am in two weeks time. It is an easy thing to budget when one is fully rested on a Sunday afternoon. Having to wake up at 5.30 am on a weekday morning after only 5 hours of sleep, and realizing that spending $16 on a cab ride will mean 30 minutes more of sleep time, is another challenge.
The conclusion was that if I wanted to join the ranks of property owners in Singapore, I would have to give up all the other parts of my life, and assume Scrooge’s existence for the next ten years, and I may just be able to scrap by and own my own condominium apartment. If an en-bloc sale happens in the meantime, that’s a bonus, but another financial crisis might just see me screwed.
Just five years ago, it wouldn’t have seemed like too much hardship. But I have gotten too used to the good life these few years. The Good Life sneaks up on one insidiously. Sitting down to pare down my budget to see if there was any chance I could manage a property investment, I only just realise how used to high living I have been. Stuff that I would have once considered dispensable, suddenly threatened to affect my quality of life so majorly that I feel myself hesitating in cutting the strings.
Investment or not, I have come to the conclusion that it was time I got myself used to frugality again. Stuff like no more shopping (yeah, I’ve said this like about a hundred times), no more cabbing, no more restaurant meals every other day, I can still handle. I can give up the pampering stuff like facials, massages etc. However, the biggest bulk of my expenditure now goes to keeping up with my fitness regime….and it is a pain in the neck to decide how to pare that down. Give up the exclusive strength training and train by myself, or give up the Muay Thai lessons? Cutting out either one of these or both would give an instant boost in my savings.
Why the difficulty? Because I have invested more than money in my whole fitness regime. It represents the source of my self confidence, it gives variety to my otherwise monotonous life and it is a major source of socializing for me outside work. It plays a major role in defining who I am at this point in time.
With some creative accounting skills, and hopefully a lot of discipline on my part, I managed to keep both in my budgeting. But I am thinking it is time to wean myself from one or both, unless this August brings good news on salary increment front.
We will see how successful I am in two weeks time. It is an easy thing to budget when one is fully rested on a Sunday afternoon. Having to wake up at 5.30 am on a weekday morning after only 5 hours of sleep, and realizing that spending $16 on a cab ride will mean 30 minutes more of sleep time, is another challenge.
Friday, 1 May 2009
MY MINI MID-LIFE CRISIS
It is another glorious long weekend ahead. Three days of rest and relax, well, as much of it as I can get with a pile of work staring at me. It is a toss up whether I will even touch the pile in the coming days. I bring the work home with the best of intentions, but truly, it takes great will power and discipline to pull myself away from Project Runway reruns on cable TV to look at price comparison tables, engineering squiggles, and my least favourite of all - staff appraisal forms.
Yes, it is the time of the year for staff appraisals. Some bosses enjoy the process, because you know, holding the "life and death" of your employees in your hands, to mould their career outcomes in your hands, embues one with an incredible sense of power. Suddenly everyone falls over to be nice to you, and well, it may be time to take revenge of that small act of rebellion from a subordinate two months ago. Cues evil laugh.....Bwahahaha.......
Years ago, I used to love this time of the year too, because I didn't need to grade anyone else, and I was always pretty confident of my own performance. I knew I could always look forward to a top notch performance appraisal from my bosses. Even when I finally had my own small team about two years ago, they were all of such high caliber that it was no chore to grade them at all.
This year, I have around twenty staff appraisals to grade, and as I flip through them, my heart sinks. I have no wish to put anyone out of a job at this critical time period, or cause anyone any problems from bad appraisals, but how to balance that with what I really feel about their abilities and their attitudes? If I am really really frank about it, half of them would probably end up with a less than average showing, but if I am more generous, the top performers would not show up so well, which is somewhat unfair. It is really a fine balancing act. The best result I can envision is that everyone gets about an average grading, which is....kind of sad.
And there is my own appraisal form to complete. Our company appraisal comes in two parts, one part for the supervisor to grade the staff performance, and the other part for the staff to give feedback. I am in a dilemma over the latter, given my unhappiness with my job responsibilities at the moment and my general confusion on which direction I should be going. How forthcoming should I be in my feedback? Really tell the bosses that I have no wish to be groomed for higher level managerial positions, that I wish to specialise in the technical side of things? Do I really want to turn in that direction? Am I ready to sacrifice the material benefits of my current career path for one which will better suit my personality and skills and make me happier for the next forty years, but not pay as well? Will I really be happy with less money? Have I been too idealistic and naive? Sort of like those couples who "chooses love over bread"? I have no answer yet.....but I have the next two days to think about it.....
Someone commented in passing recently that I could consider making fitness my career, like become a trainer, open a fitness centre catering to ladies etc, since I am now so into this whole fitness thing, and was so unhappy about my job into the bargain, I laughed it off at that time. It just felt so off-the-charts impossible. I could list so many things against such an idea - lack of expertise, capital, my personal fear of the lack of stability in such an undertaking etc etc. But for some reason, the idea got stuck in my head, not fitness part, but the idea of going into alternative career paths, doing things which interests me, making my interests my work. I am a little bewildered about the direction of my thoughts, because even as thoughts, this is so unlike me. SB may take the plunge, but I am your original conventional 9-5 professional salary girl. I thrive on routines and schedules, on stability and low/zero risk taking. Am I really even considering an alternative life-style? Or am I just desperate enough to seek a way out of my current malcontention? Anyway at all?
My parents, especially my father, have been incredibly happy and satisfied ever since I landed this job, and are very, very proud of my career progression. I think he sees me at the top of the managerial food chain one day. I know they think I have the potential to fly high, and my settling for anything less would be a waste of my potential. I also think that they are happy that at least one of us (between SB and me) are in a stable job with stable prospects (since SB has chosen, in their eyes at least, something flighty and out of their realm of understanding, although I personally think wanting to get a PhD to teach in a University is already kind of traditional and staid...). I have been rather hesitant about sharing my unhappiness at work with them, or even mentioning my various thoughts and considerations to downgrade my career.
However, this morning during breakfast, I somehow fell into a discussion with them accidentally about the whole situation I am in. I think I was subconsciously trying to test the waters, to see if they could understand how unsuited I am, personality-wise, for the high power management path, and if they could accept my not fulfiling my full potential and limiting my career path. The discussion went exactly as I had expected. Mum understood but couldn't, or didn't want to say anything more than that she understood. Dad was adamant that in this society, no one could ever be 100% happy with their job. A job is a job. I should just suck it up and do it. And if I can't change the job to suit me, then I should change myself to suit the job. Be harder, be more aggressive, learn to like entertainment, learn to like management shit, or at least to tolerate it enough. I don't have to like my job, just be able to tolerate it for the next forty years and take my pleasures elsewhere. Kind of like those Victorian ton marriages you read about, a wife is for inheritances and heirs; keep a mistress on the side for other pleasures.
I was kind of sad, but I guess I did know better than to expect unadulterated support from that wing. Afterall, my parents were the product of hard times and sacrifices. You didn't have a much of a choice in those days. I really don't blame them. But so now it is down to me to decide what I want and whether I could live with the consequences of my choices. Again, I don't have any answers yet...my mind and my heart are masses of roiling conflict. I can only take refuge in escapism for the moment, and use the financial crisis as an excuse to delay the decision making for another few months, or years. I am hoping that once the crisis is over and the economy is on the rise again, a clear direction which addresses all my concerns will suddenly open up in front of me, and I do not have to worry about any decision making on my part. Haha, yes, sheer fantasy of course - my religion of choice.
Well, I refuse to continue to dwell on such unhappy ruminations with the long weekend stretching in front of me. It will be over all too soon, and time enough for me to continue my whining and whinging when I am back at work. For the next two days, I will live in the present and charge myself up as much as I can. I see long days of catching up on my reading, internet surfing, working out! and just generally pottering around. There are still small bubbles of happiness and contentment lurking around after all, just have to look for them and soak them out.
Life is not all a drag after all......
Yes, it is the time of the year for staff appraisals. Some bosses enjoy the process, because you know, holding the "life and death" of your employees in your hands, to mould their career outcomes in your hands, embues one with an incredible sense of power. Suddenly everyone falls over to be nice to you, and well, it may be time to take revenge of that small act of rebellion from a subordinate two months ago. Cues evil laugh.....Bwahahaha.......
Years ago, I used to love this time of the year too, because I didn't need to grade anyone else, and I was always pretty confident of my own performance. I knew I could always look forward to a top notch performance appraisal from my bosses. Even when I finally had my own small team about two years ago, they were all of such high caliber that it was no chore to grade them at all.
This year, I have around twenty staff appraisals to grade, and as I flip through them, my heart sinks. I have no wish to put anyone out of a job at this critical time period, or cause anyone any problems from bad appraisals, but how to balance that with what I really feel about their abilities and their attitudes? If I am really really frank about it, half of them would probably end up with a less than average showing, but if I am more generous, the top performers would not show up so well, which is somewhat unfair. It is really a fine balancing act. The best result I can envision is that everyone gets about an average grading, which is....kind of sad.
And there is my own appraisal form to complete. Our company appraisal comes in two parts, one part for the supervisor to grade the staff performance, and the other part for the staff to give feedback. I am in a dilemma over the latter, given my unhappiness with my job responsibilities at the moment and my general confusion on which direction I should be going. How forthcoming should I be in my feedback? Really tell the bosses that I have no wish to be groomed for higher level managerial positions, that I wish to specialise in the technical side of things? Do I really want to turn in that direction? Am I ready to sacrifice the material benefits of my current career path for one which will better suit my personality and skills and make me happier for the next forty years, but not pay as well? Will I really be happy with less money? Have I been too idealistic and naive? Sort of like those couples who "chooses love over bread"? I have no answer yet.....but I have the next two days to think about it.....
Someone commented in passing recently that I could consider making fitness my career, like become a trainer, open a fitness centre catering to ladies etc, since I am now so into this whole fitness thing, and was so unhappy about my job into the bargain, I laughed it off at that time. It just felt so off-the-charts impossible. I could list so many things against such an idea - lack of expertise, capital, my personal fear of the lack of stability in such an undertaking etc etc. But for some reason, the idea got stuck in my head, not fitness part, but the idea of going into alternative career paths, doing things which interests me, making my interests my work. I am a little bewildered about the direction of my thoughts, because even as thoughts, this is so unlike me. SB may take the plunge, but I am your original conventional 9-5 professional salary girl. I thrive on routines and schedules, on stability and low/zero risk taking. Am I really even considering an alternative life-style? Or am I just desperate enough to seek a way out of my current malcontention? Anyway at all?
My parents, especially my father, have been incredibly happy and satisfied ever since I landed this job, and are very, very proud of my career progression. I think he sees me at the top of the managerial food chain one day. I know they think I have the potential to fly high, and my settling for anything less would be a waste of my potential. I also think that they are happy that at least one of us (between SB and me) are in a stable job with stable prospects (since SB has chosen, in their eyes at least, something flighty and out of their realm of understanding, although I personally think wanting to get a PhD to teach in a University is already kind of traditional and staid...). I have been rather hesitant about sharing my unhappiness at work with them, or even mentioning my various thoughts and considerations to downgrade my career.
However, this morning during breakfast, I somehow fell into a discussion with them accidentally about the whole situation I am in. I think I was subconsciously trying to test the waters, to see if they could understand how unsuited I am, personality-wise, for the high power management path, and if they could accept my not fulfiling my full potential and limiting my career path. The discussion went exactly as I had expected. Mum understood but couldn't, or didn't want to say anything more than that she understood. Dad was adamant that in this society, no one could ever be 100% happy with their job. A job is a job. I should just suck it up and do it. And if I can't change the job to suit me, then I should change myself to suit the job. Be harder, be more aggressive, learn to like entertainment, learn to like management shit, or at least to tolerate it enough. I don't have to like my job, just be able to tolerate it for the next forty years and take my pleasures elsewhere. Kind of like those Victorian ton marriages you read about, a wife is for inheritances and heirs; keep a mistress on the side for other pleasures.
I was kind of sad, but I guess I did know better than to expect unadulterated support from that wing. Afterall, my parents were the product of hard times and sacrifices. You didn't have a much of a choice in those days. I really don't blame them. But so now it is down to me to decide what I want and whether I could live with the consequences of my choices. Again, I don't have any answers yet...my mind and my heart are masses of roiling conflict. I can only take refuge in escapism for the moment, and use the financial crisis as an excuse to delay the decision making for another few months, or years. I am hoping that once the crisis is over and the economy is on the rise again, a clear direction which addresses all my concerns will suddenly open up in front of me, and I do not have to worry about any decision making on my part. Haha, yes, sheer fantasy of course - my religion of choice.
Well, I refuse to continue to dwell on such unhappy ruminations with the long weekend stretching in front of me. It will be over all too soon, and time enough for me to continue my whining and whinging when I am back at work. For the next two days, I will live in the present and charge myself up as much as I can. I see long days of catching up on my reading, internet surfing, working out! and just generally pottering around. There are still small bubbles of happiness and contentment lurking around after all, just have to look for them and soak them out.
Life is not all a drag after all......
Sunday, 19 April 2009
HOUSEWIFE TURNS PRO BOXER AT AGE 45
Meet Kazumi Izaki, a housewife who turned professional boxer a year ago at age 45.
Earlier this year, I was wondering whether there was any point in my continuing the expensive Muay Thai lessons, since I was almost certain that I would never be good enough to compete. Even if I did manage to reach a level of proficiency in the sport, I was almost sure that my age would work against me by the time I achieved that level. All Muay Thai could be to me was a fun and interesting way to lose/maintain my weight and fitness levels.
And don't quote me Dara Torres. As impressive as I find her, she HAD been a medal winning athlete before she retired to take up marriage and motherhood. We are definitely not in the same league.
Don't get me wrong. I am definitely not intending to go pro. But it would be nice to be good enough to compete one day, even at an amateur level. Gives me some impetus to work at improving my skills.
Ms Kazumi Izaki gives me hope yet.
Earlier this year, I was wondering whether there was any point in my continuing the expensive Muay Thai lessons, since I was almost certain that I would never be good enough to compete. Even if I did manage to reach a level of proficiency in the sport, I was almost sure that my age would work against me by the time I achieved that level. All Muay Thai could be to me was a fun and interesting way to lose/maintain my weight and fitness levels.
And don't quote me Dara Torres. As impressive as I find her, she HAD been a medal winning athlete before she retired to take up marriage and motherhood. We are definitely not in the same league.
Don't get me wrong. I am definitely not intending to go pro. But it would be nice to be good enough to compete one day, even at an amateur level. Gives me some impetus to work at improving my skills.
Ms Kazumi Izaki gives me hope yet.
Monday, 6 April 2009
NO MAN IS AN ISLAND?
Humans are born to be social. We need other people, even if it is just that one other person.
If someone says otherwise, he/she is just bullshitting you, and more importantly, himself/herself.
Been there, done that.
If someone says otherwise, he/she is just bullshitting you, and more importantly, himself/herself.
Been there, done that.
Friday, 3 April 2009
NO OR NEVER?
How does one say "NO" without hurting someone else?
How to get the point across that "NO" doesn't mean "NEVER", but just "NOT NOW"?
Would people prefer excuses, or the plain truth? More importantly, can those who ask for the plain truth take the plain truth?
Is it better to save myself the trouble and really make it "NEVER EVER" instead of trying to get the point across?
How to get the point across that "NO" doesn't mean "NEVER", but just "NOT NOW"?
Would people prefer excuses, or the plain truth? More importantly, can those who ask for the plain truth take the plain truth?
Is it better to save myself the trouble and really make it "NEVER EVER" instead of trying to get the point across?
Saturday, 28 March 2009
UPDATES ON YEAR 31
OK, Birthday over. I'm officially into year 31, and still in denial.
Someone asked me why I made such a fuss over 31 when I didn't say anything for the big 3-0. Frankly, beats me too. 30 felt grand and exciting, like starting my 20s again, this time with more wisdom and cash. :) Year 31, now, has me feeling over the hill, behind the times, and gives me a whole sense of panic that time is passing too fast. Maybe, there is some correlation between the lousy global situation and my turning 31. Or maybe I've been hanging out with too many twenty-somethings. Since I don't intend to analyse the whole thing to death, or see a shrink to figure it all out, I guess, I'll just keep my head under the sand for this whole year and hope for the best.
SB's departure looms closer. That's the next big thing happening in my life. Ironically she flies on April's Fool Day, and I had weird visions of driving home from the airport after being informed that the whole thing was an elaborate April's Fool hoax. Haha, wishful thinking. Anyway, feeling more or less reconciled to her leaving (and maybe not coming back....apparently, many, including herself, have gotten the feeling that she would meet someone special in Tokyo this time...). I guess missing her for some time will be a given, but then life moves on, and we'll all slip into the groove of things. After a while, I would start to wonder what all the fuss about her leaving was about.
And the maid is due to depart the day after SB. Mum has decided that with one less person in the house, she will be able to handle the housework and there is no sense in keeping the maid and paying her to watch cable TV on the big LCD (and breaking all our stuff in the process.) I have to admit that I'll probably mourn the maid's departure longer than SB's, because the former has greater impact on my daily life. :) I will miss not being able to hop onto the internet immediately after dinner because I have to do the dishes, no lounging around the Sunday breakfast table, chatting, because of the ironing, etc etc. I've been spoilt, I know, but just let me whine about it for a while, and I'll grit my teeth and get on with it. One thing is for sure, I'm going to start being most familiar with Animal Planets again, once the ironing gets started.
Maybe that's why I am not really looking forward to my year 31, because I'm kind of losing a BFF and I have got ironing to do.
Yeah, ironing really gets to one. Even Animal Planets can do little to improve that.
Someone asked me why I made such a fuss over 31 when I didn't say anything for the big 3-0. Frankly, beats me too. 30 felt grand and exciting, like starting my 20s again, this time with more wisdom and cash. :) Year 31, now, has me feeling over the hill, behind the times, and gives me a whole sense of panic that time is passing too fast. Maybe, there is some correlation between the lousy global situation and my turning 31. Or maybe I've been hanging out with too many twenty-somethings. Since I don't intend to analyse the whole thing to death, or see a shrink to figure it all out, I guess, I'll just keep my head under the sand for this whole year and hope for the best.
SB's departure looms closer. That's the next big thing happening in my life. Ironically she flies on April's Fool Day, and I had weird visions of driving home from the airport after being informed that the whole thing was an elaborate April's Fool hoax. Haha, wishful thinking. Anyway, feeling more or less reconciled to her leaving (and maybe not coming back....apparently, many, including herself, have gotten the feeling that she would meet someone special in Tokyo this time...). I guess missing her for some time will be a given, but then life moves on, and we'll all slip into the groove of things. After a while, I would start to wonder what all the fuss about her leaving was about.
And the maid is due to depart the day after SB. Mum has decided that with one less person in the house, she will be able to handle the housework and there is no sense in keeping the maid and paying her to watch cable TV on the big LCD (and breaking all our stuff in the process.) I have to admit that I'll probably mourn the maid's departure longer than SB's, because the former has greater impact on my daily life. :) I will miss not being able to hop onto the internet immediately after dinner because I have to do the dishes, no lounging around the Sunday breakfast table, chatting, because of the ironing, etc etc. I've been spoilt, I know, but just let me whine about it for a while, and I'll grit my teeth and get on with it. One thing is for sure, I'm going to start being most familiar with Animal Planets again, once the ironing gets started.
Maybe that's why I am not really looking forward to my year 31, because I'm kind of losing a BFF and I have got ironing to do.
Yeah, ironing really gets to one. Even Animal Planets can do little to improve that.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
ANOTHER PERSON'S SHOES
They say you never know how the another person feels until you have walked in that person's shoes.
I have walked in another person's shoes today.
I need to say, Sorry, I didn't know it was so hard.
I have walked in another person's shoes today.
I need to say, Sorry, I didn't know it was so hard.
Saturday, 14 March 2009
THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS
The heart wants what it wants.
I can try to fool myself into thinking that I'm only playing. No, I'm not serious. It's all just for fun.
But when the truth is revealed, the disappointment is so crushing. And I know I have only myself to blame for being delusional in the first place.
How many times can I go through this? My confidence is erroded, I have no sense of self-worth left.
Yes I know it is not personal. How could it be? You didn't even know. None of you even guessed. And that's what makes it all worse. At least I end up with a little bit more if it WAS personal.
I want my heart to go to sleep. To cease feeling.
I want to remain untouched.
Until the real thing comes.
Please.
I can try to fool myself into thinking that I'm only playing. No, I'm not serious. It's all just for fun.
But when the truth is revealed, the disappointment is so crushing. And I know I have only myself to blame for being delusional in the first place.
How many times can I go through this? My confidence is erroded, I have no sense of self-worth left.
Yes I know it is not personal. How could it be? You didn't even know. None of you even guessed. And that's what makes it all worse. At least I end up with a little bit more if it WAS personal.
I want my heart to go to sleep. To cease feeling.
I want to remain untouched.
Until the real thing comes.
Please.
Saturday, 7 March 2009
31 YEARS OLD....AND COUNTING
31 years old is but 2 weeks away.
I am not ready.
I haven't even gotten used to being 30.
I am suddenly panicking and a little scared.
Getting older is NOT fun.
Since when did birthdays become a thing to fear?
WHY am I still alone?
WHERE are the things I should have achieved?
WHEN am I going to achieve them?
WHAT is ahead?
HOW to proceed?
WHO really cares? Do I? Do I?? Do I???
I am not ready.
I haven't even gotten used to being 30.
I am suddenly panicking and a little scared.
Getting older is NOT fun.
Since when did birthdays become a thing to fear?
WHY am I still alone?
WHERE are the things I should have achieved?
WHEN am I going to achieve them?
WHAT is ahead?
HOW to proceed?
WHO really cares? Do I? Do I?? Do I???
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
SB'S UPCOMING DEPARTURE
Everyday that passes, SB's departure for Tokyo draws nearer. This time, she will be away from home for three years, and returning (hopefully) with her PhD (hopefully).
I wonder how many times of such partings we will have to go through in the next 20 years. With SB, one never knows. She has been blessed (or cursed, perhaps) with wanderlust in her soul and somehow, life just keeps feeding her opportunities for travel.
That is the difficult part for me. Just when I have gotten used to being alone, and stopped missing her presence, she comes back home and stirs things up again. And then just when I am getting used to having her around (to run errands for the parents while I go scot free, haha), she ups and leaves. Suddenly I turn around and have no one to talk to. Come or go, come or go, I wish she would make up her mind.
I guess part of my dissatisfaction also stems from the fact that she gets to wallow in freedom all by her little self in Tokyo, while I have to stay with the parents. It is not that I need shoulder any responsibility for the parents all by myself, but, the idea of it just makes me so.....jealous and envious. I used to resent it even more, but these days, I have enough of a life myself to feel, if not happy, then at least neutral, at her going away to live her life.
Anyway, she returns in three years time, or so she says (barring any accidents involving the opposite sex). I guess I will be complaining about how she is going to mess up my peaceful existence as an "only child" with her presence.....again.
I wonder how many times of such partings we will have to go through in the next 20 years. With SB, one never knows. She has been blessed (or cursed, perhaps) with wanderlust in her soul and somehow, life just keeps feeding her opportunities for travel.
That is the difficult part for me. Just when I have gotten used to being alone, and stopped missing her presence, she comes back home and stirs things up again. And then just when I am getting used to having her around (to run errands for the parents while I go scot free, haha), she ups and leaves. Suddenly I turn around and have no one to talk to. Come or go, come or go, I wish she would make up her mind.
I guess part of my dissatisfaction also stems from the fact that she gets to wallow in freedom all by her little self in Tokyo, while I have to stay with the parents. It is not that I need shoulder any responsibility for the parents all by myself, but, the idea of it just makes me so.....jealous and envious. I used to resent it even more, but these days, I have enough of a life myself to feel, if not happy, then at least neutral, at her going away to live her life.
Anyway, she returns in three years time, or so she says (barring any accidents involving the opposite sex). I guess I will be complaining about how she is going to mess up my peaceful existence as an "only child" with her presence.....again.
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