Hello.
Hello, world. Hello, me.
I seem to have resurfaced from my tortoise shell.
For a while, words seem so cheap they have lost some kind of meaning to me. I still have squillions (as Anna would've said) of words inside of me, floating in my mind and flowing in my veins, but so what if I say them?
Words betray me.
Words do not get through to the one I want to get through to most.
Words make me vulnerable.
Words fool me... they have fooled me so.
Words break me.
Words so make me cry.
Words - can I still trust them?
森林木 says: (7:45:43 AM)
maybe one day, i will find the courage to blog about it like you. haha. but i don't think so though. hahahahaha...........
fmm says: (7:45:52 AM)
huh?
fmm says: (7:45:57 AM)
why can'tu?
森林木 says: (7:46:08 AM)
haha. i'm very private.
fmm says: (7:46:18 AM)
yeah
fmm says: (7:46:25 AM)
i blog but not everything also mar
fmm says: (7:46:31 AM)
there are some things cannot say one
fmm says: (7:46:46 AM)
maybe i think i should jsut stop
森林木 says: (7:46:50 AM)
true. but u kind of guess abit and know a person more thru his/her words.
森林木 says: (7:46:57 AM)
which is what i don't want. hahha
森林木 says: (7:47:05 AM)
no, i think u should keep writing. it keeps u sane i guess.
Words keep me sane?
I tried running away from them. Not for very long, I suppose.
But I was truly very tired as well. Tired from the thoughts. Tired from the crying. Tired from thinking of him and everything else. Tired from trying to pack, but nothing much has in fact been packed. Tired from trying not to appear too emotional in front of people.
Tired from thinking what might happen to me today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year... when I'm an old woman.
Tired from trying.
The beer (and a little bit of Chivas) has helped me sleep through the past two nights till morning.
Mentally exhausted from the pining and physically worn out from the effects of alcohol, I couldn't really write even if I had wanted to.
Writing here may expose me more than I would like to be.
Still, there are much more intimate thoughts I can never write here. Thoughts and words meant for one and only one person, and not for the world wide web.
Story-telling has its limits, ultimately.
But you're right, my friend.
Writing here does perhaps keep me a little more in check.
Being open to public ridicule is but part and parcel of a writer's life, isn't it?
Writing here requires courage, and perhaps to a certain extent, shamelessness.
I have nothing much to fear. My words reflect exactly who I am, how I feel, what I think.
I feel no shame being who I am, feeling how I feel, thinking what I think.
Words, if you're gonna break me, go on and do so.
If you're gonna make me cry, I will.
But Words, please don't fool me no more and please don't betray me.
Please, Words, please also reach the ears and eyes, and most of all the heart, of someone out there.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Wrong
Sadness tastes amazingly way much bitter than the beer I'm imbibing now.
I can't get rid of the former. And I think the combination of both actually makes quite a bad one.
But I just need to lose my head. Now.
I hope someone goes dancing and boozing with me later still.
I don't know what I've done wrong.
I don't know why I always end up doing the wrong things, against my better judgement.
If you could take me away now, God, please do.
I am not going to munch up my words.
Not now. I've had enough for the day.
I can't get rid of the former. And I think the combination of both actually makes quite a bad one.
But I just need to lose my head. Now.
I hope someone goes dancing and boozing with me later still.
I don't know what I've done wrong.
I don't know why I always end up doing the wrong things, against my better judgement.
If you could take me away now, God, please do.
I am not going to munch up my words.
Not now. I've had enough for the day.
Amazing Dogs
My peace-keepers. My love-givers.
What would become of me now, if I ain't got them?
Dogs know more about human language than we do about dog language.
Let me rephrase that.
Dogs know more about human body language than we think they do.
Piper knows when I'm happy and when I'm upset, without me having much to utter one sound.
When I smile delightfully, Piper wags her tails en suite, and if you would see it as I do, with a smile on her own face.
When I frown and rest my hands on my hips, Piper looks at me with big alarming eyes, tail frozen in mid-air, as if waiting for me to make the move to reproach her.
Tried and tested, this is. Umpteen times.
I haven't been able to test this theory with Gracie because all she ever does is to wag her tail at me.
And just in case you guys always think I'm biased and love one dog more than the other, here you go:
I hope you can see Gracie's lovely face beneath that big bush of hair.
Piper knows when I cry in the night.
She snuggles up to me, waiting to kiss me, but backs down when she hears my sobs and dutifully lays her head down on me instead, as if telling me she's there for me if I ever need her.
I love you so much, Piper.
And you too, Gracie.
You are all Mommy has now.
What would become of me now, if I ain't got them?
Dogs know more about human language than we do about dog language.
Let me rephrase that.
Dogs know more about human body language than we think they do.
Piper knows when I'm happy and when I'm upset, without me having much to utter one sound.
When I smile delightfully, Piper wags her tails en suite, and if you would see it as I do, with a smile on her own face.
When I frown and rest my hands on my hips, Piper looks at me with big alarming eyes, tail frozen in mid-air, as if waiting for me to make the move to reproach her.
Tried and tested, this is. Umpteen times.
I haven't been able to test this theory with Gracie because all she ever does is to wag her tail at me.
And just in case you guys always think I'm biased and love one dog more than the other, here you go:
I hope you can see Gracie's lovely face beneath that big bush of hair.
Piper knows when I cry in the night.
She snuggles up to me, waiting to kiss me, but backs down when she hears my sobs and dutifully lays her head down on me instead, as if telling me she's there for me if I ever need her.
I love you so much, Piper.
And you too, Gracie.
You are all Mommy has now.
Back And Fighting
Fatmama is back.
Not quite bouncing yet - that may take more time.
But Fatmama is back, almost done with her thoughts. And Fatmama has found a big part of herself she almost lost, a part of her that has kept her going as a human for the longest time possible.
And Fatmama has somehow quite decided to pull down her white flag once more. To tuck it well in the darkest of corners under her big bed. She still can't quite burn it yet, though she wishes one day she could. Well, hopefully she doesn't have to use it again soon, but even if she does, she'd know where to find it.
It's bright and early, half past eight in the morning. It's Friday, the last working day of the week, and the last day of my time-off. It's amazing how I am awake and not dozing off at the wheel on my way to work.
Inspired by some newfound strength within me overnight, I drove out to have a latte at Holland Village, without having much even washed my face or taken a shower. I have an urge to write this down before I lose it again. After this, I'll go home for a walk with my girls, give them a much-needed shower and then zip off to meet Miss Agent for a long-awaited lunch date.
I haven't quite slept since four in the morning. I had dozed off almost immediately once I hit the bed last night, but I bolted up in the middle of the night for no reason at all. Maybe it was the thoughts that had been churning round and round in my mind even while I was sleeping.
I wrote and I thought and thought.
Questions. Visions. Recollections. Memories.
My mind has been shrouded by nothing but these for the past one day. Work ought to have been up there in the list, but I just couldn't have the energy to divert my thoughts anywhere else, to save my poor soul. It's still my time-off anyway.
Why?
Why do I feel the way I do? Every time I think of the possibility that I may never get to spend my life with him, to grow old with him, I just get killed bit by bit. Why can't I just envision myself living with someone else in my life?
Why can't I just let go? Like he wants me to, and like everyone else thinks I should.
Why do I feel this sense of despair, this sense of helplessness, like things are beyond my control, like I've been thrown into this deep blue ocean despite my fightbacks and against my wishes?
How long more am I going to feel this despair? How long more before I stop crying?
What is wrong with me? Is there anything wrong with me?
Do I still believe in myself? Am I telling myself I've been wrong?
Have I lost myself? Am I to be changed, despite of my own beliefs?
Quite a huge load of questions, but I think I have some headway there.
Quite simply put, I cannot bring myself to let go of everything, because I can't find me a good enough reason to convince me to.
I figure this sense of despair is driven by this sense of being forcefully put out of reach of something I want and believe in and this is probably what's driving me nuts.
It feels like some evil force is telling me to stop loving him when I can't convince myself I should.
He has done me no wrong. He just couldn't find the sparks.
Should I just give up on that?
I sound like a nutcase? A love-crazed stalker-to-be? I hope not.
It's really funny how, as I told it to his face, in spite of all that has happened, all that he's made me feel, I take one look at the man, and I can still feel only love. Love without hate, love without the shortcomings, love without asking for anything more.
I really cannot explain how this still comes about. Or how it all came about in the first place. And I think love is something we human beings shouldn't perhaps attempt to justify. Only God knows.
I think of the years we've been through, and I think none of those times was for sheer good loving fun.
We had unwittingly become so intertwined in our lives that we could think of nothing else possible but growing old together. I don't think this happens to just about anyone.
I can't just let go of this.
I read the messages we sent each other. I could, and still can, feel the sincerity in his words.
fatmamamia says:
sweetie if this thing happened like 1 or 2 years ago, i think higher chance i'll go
fatmamamia says:
but now... i feel like it's a big risk to take
Immort@l says:
now?
Immort@l says:
sweeite, u are the one i want to marry. ... if u worry bout that then u dun have to.
Immort@l says:
dun scared lah... ..
Immort@l says:
i propose now lah!!!
Immort@l says:
new and innovative
Immort@l says:
thru MSN!!!
Immort@l says:
smart huh
Immort@l says:
sweetie, i can tell u one thing for sure,
u are the one i want to marry and that i can see u grow old wif me
Immort@l says:
remember that time i told u that i will think.. ...
Immort@l says:
i am thru that stage now
Immort@l says:
i really want to marry u
Immort@l says:
and i really luff u dear
Immort@l says:
muakz
Immort@l says:
sorry for makin u feel worried
I remember the times when he looked at me at the end of my comfortings after lost games, with eyes that spoke much more volume than the words themselves, and said, "I really really love you, dear."
Words that once said, I couldn't refute against.
I know, those were the blissful days. And I know, like everyone else says, people change and feelings change.
I just refuse to accept that those words didn't mean a thing to him.
I will not know what he's thinking. If this has all been a lie on his part. If he has perhaps found someone else whom he thinks deserves more of his love than I do.
To me, he's just a confused soul. Confused by the changes going on around him. The opportunities he's been opened to. Confused by me, perhaps.
Maybe, just maybe, I scare him with the kind of love I have.
But I don't ask for anything as much. I never have. You can love me just the way you want to.
So, the woman is back. Back to fight for what she still believes is the one for her.
Where is Fatmama if she isn't fighting for her beliefs?
I will let him go, but I will not let go of my love. I can, and I will, still love him in my own ways.
For one, I will always be there.
Until the day I can convince myself he's no longer worth my while, my love story is not quite over yet.
This is not just a feel-good move on my part.
This is a step toward finding myself. Finding what makes my life worth living for. Finding how I can live tomorrow with a purpose.
Work? Job prospects? They are just bonuses that bring money on my platter. I'll start thinking about that this weekend.
God, please listen, I'm talking to you.
I don't know if I made the right move, but I need to find a way to justify the reason you put me into this world.
If I'm not his angel, then whose am I?
Something went wrong - and you were there all the while.
Wrong is the chance to make right, isn't it?
Please just let me know, in due time, if I am right in this.
I don't know what will come in the next few months. I just hope I stay strong.
Not quite bouncing yet - that may take more time.
But Fatmama is back, almost done with her thoughts. And Fatmama has found a big part of herself she almost lost, a part of her that has kept her going as a human for the longest time possible.
And Fatmama has somehow quite decided to pull down her white flag once more. To tuck it well in the darkest of corners under her big bed. She still can't quite burn it yet, though she wishes one day she could. Well, hopefully she doesn't have to use it again soon, but even if she does, she'd know where to find it.
It's bright and early, half past eight in the morning. It's Friday, the last working day of the week, and the last day of my time-off. It's amazing how I am awake and not dozing off at the wheel on my way to work.
Inspired by some newfound strength within me overnight, I drove out to have a latte at Holland Village, without having much even washed my face or taken a shower. I have an urge to write this down before I lose it again. After this, I'll go home for a walk with my girls, give them a much-needed shower and then zip off to meet Miss Agent for a long-awaited lunch date.
I haven't quite slept since four in the morning. I had dozed off almost immediately once I hit the bed last night, but I bolted up in the middle of the night for no reason at all. Maybe it was the thoughts that had been churning round and round in my mind even while I was sleeping.
I wrote and I thought and thought.
Questions. Visions. Recollections. Memories.
My mind has been shrouded by nothing but these for the past one day. Work ought to have been up there in the list, but I just couldn't have the energy to divert my thoughts anywhere else, to save my poor soul. It's still my time-off anyway.
Why?
Why do I feel the way I do? Every time I think of the possibility that I may never get to spend my life with him, to grow old with him, I just get killed bit by bit. Why can't I just envision myself living with someone else in my life?
Why can't I just let go? Like he wants me to, and like everyone else thinks I should.
Why do I feel this sense of despair, this sense of helplessness, like things are beyond my control, like I've been thrown into this deep blue ocean despite my fightbacks and against my wishes?
How long more am I going to feel this despair? How long more before I stop crying?
What is wrong with me? Is there anything wrong with me?
Do I still believe in myself? Am I telling myself I've been wrong?
Have I lost myself? Am I to be changed, despite of my own beliefs?
Quite a huge load of questions, but I think I have some headway there.
Quite simply put, I cannot bring myself to let go of everything, because I can't find me a good enough reason to convince me to.
I figure this sense of despair is driven by this sense of being forcefully put out of reach of something I want and believe in and this is probably what's driving me nuts.
It feels like some evil force is telling me to stop loving him when I can't convince myself I should.
He has done me no wrong. He just couldn't find the sparks.
Should I just give up on that?
I sound like a nutcase? A love-crazed stalker-to-be? I hope not.
It's really funny how, as I told it to his face, in spite of all that has happened, all that he's made me feel, I take one look at the man, and I can still feel only love. Love without hate, love without the shortcomings, love without asking for anything more.
I really cannot explain how this still comes about. Or how it all came about in the first place. And I think love is something we human beings shouldn't perhaps attempt to justify. Only God knows.
I think of the years we've been through, and I think none of those times was for sheer good loving fun.
We had unwittingly become so intertwined in our lives that we could think of nothing else possible but growing old together. I don't think this happens to just about anyone.
I can't just let go of this.
I read the messages we sent each other. I could, and still can, feel the sincerity in his words.
fatmamamia says:
sweetie if this thing happened like 1 or 2 years ago, i think higher chance i'll go
fatmamamia says:
but now... i feel like it's a big risk to take
Immort@l says:
now?
Immort@l says:
sweeite, u are the one i want to marry. ... if u worry bout that then u dun have to.
Immort@l says:
dun scared lah... ..
Immort@l says:
i propose now lah!!!
Immort@l says:
new and innovative
Immort@l says:
thru MSN!!!
Immort@l says:
smart huh
Immort@l says:
sweetie, i can tell u one thing for sure,
u are the one i want to marry and that i can see u grow old wif me
Immort@l says:
remember that time i told u that i will think.. ...
Immort@l says:
i am thru that stage now
Immort@l says:
i really want to marry u
Immort@l says:
and i really luff u dear
Immort@l says:
muakz
Immort@l says:
sorry for makin u feel worried
I remember the times when he looked at me at the end of my comfortings after lost games, with eyes that spoke much more volume than the words themselves, and said, "I really really love you, dear."
Words that once said, I couldn't refute against.
I know, those were the blissful days. And I know, like everyone else says, people change and feelings change.
I just refuse to accept that those words didn't mean a thing to him.
I will not know what he's thinking. If this has all been a lie on his part. If he has perhaps found someone else whom he thinks deserves more of his love than I do.
To me, he's just a confused soul. Confused by the changes going on around him. The opportunities he's been opened to. Confused by me, perhaps.
Maybe, just maybe, I scare him with the kind of love I have.
But I don't ask for anything as much. I never have. You can love me just the way you want to.
So, the woman is back. Back to fight for what she still believes is the one for her.
Where is Fatmama if she isn't fighting for her beliefs?
I will let him go, but I will not let go of my love. I can, and I will, still love him in my own ways.
For one, I will always be there.
Until the day I can convince myself he's no longer worth my while, my love story is not quite over yet.
This is not just a feel-good move on my part.
This is a step toward finding myself. Finding what makes my life worth living for. Finding how I can live tomorrow with a purpose.
Work? Job prospects? They are just bonuses that bring money on my platter. I'll start thinking about that this weekend.
God, please listen, I'm talking to you.
I don't know if I made the right move, but I need to find a way to justify the reason you put me into this world.
If I'm not his angel, then whose am I?
Something went wrong - and you were there all the while.
Wrong is the chance to make right, isn't it?
Please just let me know, in due time, if I am right in this.
I don't know what will come in the next few months. I just hope I stay strong.
豆浆油条
Even if it really wasn't meant for me, I still like the words.
Thank you babe.
(I don't do Chinese songs, by the way, so this is entirely alien to me.)
豆浆油条 by 林俊杰
喝纯白的豆浆 是纯白的浪漫 望着你
可爱脸蛋 和你纯真的模样
我傻傻对你笑 是你忧愁解药 你说我
就像油条 很简单却很美好
我知道 你和我就像是豆浆油条 要一起
吃下去 味道才会是最好 你需要我的傻笑
我需要你的拥抱 爱情就是要这样它才不会淡掉
我知道 有时候 也需要吵吵闹闹 但始终
也知道 只有你对我最好 豆浆离不开油条
让我爱你爱到老 爱情就是要这样它才幸福美好
我知道 都知道 你知道 你都知道 好不好
别偷笑 笑 让我知道(就好)
我喝完热豆浆 却念着还想要 你吃完金黄
油条 爱情又要再发酵
It took me a couple of days to figure out the lyrics - mainly because the words are so tiny and my blurry vision has no patience to make them out.
This is what I do believe in though.
P.S.: If we were really 'dou jiang you tiao', I wish we were the Yong He ones found along Geylang Road - warm and crisp, sweet and savoury at the same time.
Thank you babe.
(I don't do Chinese songs, by the way, so this is entirely alien to me.)
豆浆油条 by 林俊杰
喝纯白的豆浆 是纯白的浪漫 望着你
可爱脸蛋 和你纯真的模样
我傻傻对你笑 是你忧愁解药 你说我
就像油条 很简单却很美好
我知道 你和我就像是豆浆油条 要一起
吃下去 味道才会是最好 你需要我的傻笑
我需要你的拥抱 爱情就是要这样它才不会淡掉
我知道 有时候 也需要吵吵闹闹 但始终
也知道 只有你对我最好 豆浆离不开油条
让我爱你爱到老 爱情就是要这样它才幸福美好
我知道 都知道 你知道 你都知道 好不好
别偷笑 笑 让我知道(就好)
我喝完热豆浆 却念着还想要 你吃完金黄
油条 爱情又要再发酵
It took me a couple of days to figure out the lyrics - mainly because the words are so tiny and my blurry vision has no patience to make them out.
This is what I do believe in though.
P.S.: If we were really 'dou jiang you tiao', I wish we were the Yong He ones found along Geylang Road - warm and crisp, sweet and savoury at the same time.
The Day After
Couldn't sleep last night. It was terrible. Awful.
The minute I lay my head down to rest, the tap wouldn't stop.
Everything just came rushing back to my mind. Everything from the long past, to the bliss we were still living in just a couple of months ago preparing for our lives together ahead, to the future we had painted for ourselves. I could still see the kids and dogs and one big green garden we had wanted. I saw the two of us grey-haired, finally having the moments of our life.
Fuck - if nothing had happened, we would right now have been busy preparing for the renovation of the house.
Fuck - if nothing had happened, I wonder if we would have been married with a time-bomb hanging over our heads.
Was it good, or bad, then that something had happened?
It was supposed to be for the better, but now has turned out for the worse.
I had to wait for the tears to subside before I could allow myself some shut-eye - I didn't want to wake up with painful eyes. All the while, the man was lying peacefully on my big bed, long fast asleep.
It was probably going to be the last night he's going to bunk over at my place. I almost wanted to spend the whole night taking in the view of him lying peacefully next to me.
I wanted to feel the touch of his skin one last time, but the slightest touch made him move.
It was almost daybreak before I finally got myself to sleep.
There was some strange sense of peace and ease between the both of us the next day. It felt as if a load had been physically taken off from us.
No awkward silence, but just peace. It was like we were connected again in a way, knowing what the other wants without having to speak a word or ask a question.
We talked, we joked and laughed a bit. We were almost back to our usual comfort zone, except that this time, we had no physical touch.
I had taken down all the photos of us because I suppose they pain him as much as they do me.
We cooked both cups of instant noodles and ate them for breakfast because they reminded us of pain as well.
Heck, the two of us even ran errands together before I was to send him off to work again.
The silence in the car was no longer the painful kind. It was the same old silence I had known before - the kind of silence I was proud to have understood and readily offered. The space-giving, I-know-what-you-want kind of silence, the kind where I knew he was there with me without having to speak to me.
I stared at his uniform, his flight bag, his Gap shirt hanging outside the cupboard which I remember I had bought on one of my first trips to Portland, his good ol' ten-year-old Esprit jacket that I've been in love with since day one, his computer full of stickers which I had proudly stuck on like an excited four-year-old, all his messy flight books lying around, his phone, his wallet - while he was taking a shower.
It struck me that I might never get to see them again. They belong to my life as much as they belong to him. I was about to lose this familiar sight all around me.
After a day of peace, I had wanted to tear again.
I am supposed to help him pack up some stuff while he's away on his flight.
I really don't know where to start. Other than the shoes and clothes, I can't tell his stuff from mine. What is clearly his and what's mine, I cannot decide.
There's just too much to be removed from this room, that might just remind me the slightest bit about him.
I should throw away the bed as well.
It was supposed to be a night of peace for me - basketball night with my buddies.
But I had to see his longtime teammate CB on the same basketball court at Tanglin. Thursdays are usually reserved for us; why were CB and his never-seen-before friends down at our court tonight?
I turned my eyes towards the skies and cast a questioning look once again.
Dinner at Adam's was the usual after-training affair.
We had our dinner, and our fair share of jokes and bitching, and we got up to leave by 11.
But I had to bump into my good friend Les whom I've not seen for a while, having supper with wifey. Without fail, his second question, after asking how I had been, was, "Boyfriend leh?"
Argh argh ARGH. My voice was lost somewhere in my throat; I just hand-gestured a flying motion and shook my head at the same time. I only managed to mumble, "Don't ask."
My best friend, whom I've not caught up with for the longest time and who usually calls only once in a while when the moon turns blue, called suddenly and asked how things were. She is probably not the most Web-savvy friend I have, so I guess she never quite knew about the existence of this journal.
I just didn't know how to tell her. So I just said, "Yeah, I'm ok. Everything's ok."
And we just hung up after a while.
Is this a test of patience and endurance from You?
The minute I lay my head down to rest, the tap wouldn't stop.
Everything just came rushing back to my mind. Everything from the long past, to the bliss we were still living in just a couple of months ago preparing for our lives together ahead, to the future we had painted for ourselves. I could still see the kids and dogs and one big green garden we had wanted. I saw the two of us grey-haired, finally having the moments of our life.
Fuck - if nothing had happened, we would right now have been busy preparing for the renovation of the house.
Fuck - if nothing had happened, I wonder if we would have been married with a time-bomb hanging over our heads.
Was it good, or bad, then that something had happened?
It was supposed to be for the better, but now has turned out for the worse.
I had to wait for the tears to subside before I could allow myself some shut-eye - I didn't want to wake up with painful eyes. All the while, the man was lying peacefully on my big bed, long fast asleep.
It was probably going to be the last night he's going to bunk over at my place. I almost wanted to spend the whole night taking in the view of him lying peacefully next to me.
I wanted to feel the touch of his skin one last time, but the slightest touch made him move.
It was almost daybreak before I finally got myself to sleep.
There was some strange sense of peace and ease between the both of us the next day. It felt as if a load had been physically taken off from us.
No awkward silence, but just peace. It was like we were connected again in a way, knowing what the other wants without having to speak a word or ask a question.
We talked, we joked and laughed a bit. We were almost back to our usual comfort zone, except that this time, we had no physical touch.
I had taken down all the photos of us because I suppose they pain him as much as they do me.
We cooked both cups of instant noodles and ate them for breakfast because they reminded us of pain as well.
Heck, the two of us even ran errands together before I was to send him off to work again.
The silence in the car was no longer the painful kind. It was the same old silence I had known before - the kind of silence I was proud to have understood and readily offered. The space-giving, I-know-what-you-want kind of silence, the kind where I knew he was there with me without having to speak to me.
I stared at his uniform, his flight bag, his Gap shirt hanging outside the cupboard which I remember I had bought on one of my first trips to Portland, his good ol' ten-year-old Esprit jacket that I've been in love with since day one, his computer full of stickers which I had proudly stuck on like an excited four-year-old, all his messy flight books lying around, his phone, his wallet - while he was taking a shower.
It struck me that I might never get to see them again. They belong to my life as much as they belong to him. I was about to lose this familiar sight all around me.
After a day of peace, I had wanted to tear again.
I am supposed to help him pack up some stuff while he's away on his flight.
I really don't know where to start. Other than the shoes and clothes, I can't tell his stuff from mine. What is clearly his and what's mine, I cannot decide.
There's just too much to be removed from this room, that might just remind me the slightest bit about him.
I should throw away the bed as well.
It was supposed to be a night of peace for me - basketball night with my buddies.
But I had to see his longtime teammate CB on the same basketball court at Tanglin. Thursdays are usually reserved for us; why were CB and his never-seen-before friends down at our court tonight?
I turned my eyes towards the skies and cast a questioning look once again.
Dinner at Adam's was the usual after-training affair.
We had our dinner, and our fair share of jokes and bitching, and we got up to leave by 11.
But I had to bump into my good friend Les whom I've not seen for a while, having supper with wifey. Without fail, his second question, after asking how I had been, was, "Boyfriend leh?"
Argh argh ARGH. My voice was lost somewhere in my throat; I just hand-gestured a flying motion and shook my head at the same time. I only managed to mumble, "Don't ask."
My best friend, whom I've not caught up with for the longest time and who usually calls only once in a while when the moon turns blue, called suddenly and asked how things were. She is probably not the most Web-savvy friend I have, so I guess she never quite knew about the existence of this journal.
I just didn't know how to tell her. So I just said, "Yeah, I'm ok. Everything's ok."
And we just hung up after a while.
Is this a test of patience and endurance from You?
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Chapter 34: The End?
My life journalized thus far has been like an online drama serial. One that keeps some folks tuned in regularly to catch the latest twists to the complicated love affair.
Except that this one is pretty much real-life, and not doctored by any looney-tuned director. And this probably scares some shit out of you because you realize what actually gets played out on the TV box is sometimes very much based on 'true life circumstances'.
Go on... admit it, you drama rats.
Maybe you try to catch every episode fervently because the lead actors involved are your dear friends and you'd really like to know what the heck is going on between two seemingly-loving lovebirds. Or maybe you have some personal interests vested in this because you have gone through similar circumstances, or you seem to be facing similar issues, or you simply fear that the same might ever happen to you.
Or maybe you're just tuning in because you're simply entertained by my story-telling.
Whatever the reason, I don't mind the viewership, and I am not going to start imposing some pay-per-view charges (can I actually do that, by the way?).
My life is written out on the world wide web - simply because:
(a) I like technology, and the idea of an online journal,
(b) I need to utilize fully my internet subscription,
(c) I like typing and I lurve my pbook,
(d) I write so I don't have to talk so you guys don't have to ask but you guys still know anyhow (which saves me the trouble of bringing packets of Kleenex out when I go out with you guys),
(e) this is the only way I can get my feelings through to some people,
(f) I want to up the value of my blogshares (which, by the way, I stumbled upon and found out there are some strangers somewhere out there who are trading on my blogshares - this is pretty hilarious, I find).
No, seriously. Only (d) and (e) above apply.
And I write so that hopefully ten years down the road, wherever I may be, I would still be able to click on my web site and look back on these memories - and perhaps laugh at myself.
And wouldn't it be real cool if my own kiddo could google on his momma and read for himself, in his momma's own words, the life she's been through to have him in this life?
I write, so you can read about the experiences I've gone through. About how some plain girl like me - perhaps that colleague you never really knew, or that girl whom you've only met on the basketball courts, or that quiet girl who's a friend of your hubby, or that strange girl whom you don't even really know personally - has got some real heartaches to live through.
Sometimes, all may not be well as it seems.
This is only human. This is only life.
Just like how any drama serial gets its fair share of readers' mail about how the story should have been or what the lead actor should have done or how some other actor should be condemned to death, my life story gets some readers' comments too on how I should look up and see life ain't that bad.
I appreciate the concern I've managed to invoke in some of you. Though when it's anonymously rendered, I find it kinda hard to direct my gratitude.
Fact is, I know all those lines from self-help books. I've read enough of them.
I know 28 isn't exactly too old - but neither is it young as well.
I know life ain't that tough - but neither is it that simple as well.
I know things don't seem that bad as they sound - but neither do they sound or seem good as well.
I suppose every similar situation is unique to every different person. You might have gone through a similar experience as I have - but I'm sure you probably didn't think the same, share the same beliefs and values, feel the same feelings, want the same things, hope the same things, say the same words, and most of all, you probably didn't love the same person as I did.
I am still going through a learning phase, and probably always will be. I go through my fair share of life experiences, and I grow and learn from them.
I will grow and I will learn on my own - otherwise, nothing is really gained.
My mom and dad have known the wiser from years of raising me - never force me into anything, or I will do the opposite. Advice rendered will always be taken selectively. I think I've grown up just fine this way, thank you very much.
Many heads might be shaking right now - "Listen to that foolish woman".
Foolish, I may seem to you, but I know I am not, in God's eyes.
The only thing I know, and have known so far, is to love, and love deeply.
This is the best I can be, to be more like Him.
I will make my own choices about my life, and bear any mistakes of my own, and hopefully learn from them. Just like what I'm struggling to go through now. A choice that I bore for the past six years that has turned out to be a cruel joke at times, and which I'm still trying to figure out if it's a mistake to bear.
So readers, you'd have to bear with me, my gripings and wallowing and all, if you go on reading as you choose.
My life story hasn't come to an end. There is no director in sight, except the Hand who created it all.
I am only the lead actor in it. Sometimes, the defiant actor questions the Director - Why? Why couldn't You have given me a happier role to play in this story? Why choose me to be the actor in this particular drama?
For only reasons He knows, I suppose.
In time to come, I hope I would realize those reasons too.
In the meantime, the love affair seems to have come to a sad end, but all is not over.
Maybe the chapter will not be closed - for now.
But that's another story to come.
Stay tuned.
Except that this one is pretty much real-life, and not doctored by any looney-tuned director. And this probably scares some shit out of you because you realize what actually gets played out on the TV box is sometimes very much based on 'true life circumstances'.
Go on... admit it, you drama rats.
Maybe you try to catch every episode fervently because the lead actors involved are your dear friends and you'd really like to know what the heck is going on between two seemingly-loving lovebirds. Or maybe you have some personal interests vested in this because you have gone through similar circumstances, or you seem to be facing similar issues, or you simply fear that the same might ever happen to you.
Or maybe you're just tuning in because you're simply entertained by my story-telling.
Whatever the reason, I don't mind the viewership, and I am not going to start imposing some pay-per-view charges (can I actually do that, by the way?).
My life is written out on the world wide web - simply because:
(a) I like technology, and the idea of an online journal,
(b) I need to utilize fully my internet subscription,
(c) I like typing and I lurve my pbook,
(d) I write so I don't have to talk so you guys don't have to ask but you guys still know anyhow (which saves me the trouble of bringing packets of Kleenex out when I go out with you guys),
(e) this is the only way I can get my feelings through to some people,
(f) I want to up the value of my blogshares (which, by the way, I stumbled upon and found out there are some strangers somewhere out there who are trading on my blogshares - this is pretty hilarious, I find).
No, seriously. Only (d) and (e) above apply.
And I write so that hopefully ten years down the road, wherever I may be, I would still be able to click on my web site and look back on these memories - and perhaps laugh at myself.
And wouldn't it be real cool if my own kiddo could google on his momma and read for himself, in his momma's own words, the life she's been through to have him in this life?
I write, so you can read about the experiences I've gone through. About how some plain girl like me - perhaps that colleague you never really knew, or that girl whom you've only met on the basketball courts, or that quiet girl who's a friend of your hubby, or that strange girl whom you don't even really know personally - has got some real heartaches to live through.
Sometimes, all may not be well as it seems.
This is only human. This is only life.
Just like how any drama serial gets its fair share of readers' mail about how the story should have been or what the lead actor should have done or how some other actor should be condemned to death, my life story gets some readers' comments too on how I should look up and see life ain't that bad.
I appreciate the concern I've managed to invoke in some of you. Though when it's anonymously rendered, I find it kinda hard to direct my gratitude.
Fact is, I know all those lines from self-help books. I've read enough of them.
I know 28 isn't exactly too old - but neither is it young as well.
I know life ain't that tough - but neither is it that simple as well.
I know things don't seem that bad as they sound - but neither do they sound or seem good as well.
I suppose every similar situation is unique to every different person. You might have gone through a similar experience as I have - but I'm sure you probably didn't think the same, share the same beliefs and values, feel the same feelings, want the same things, hope the same things, say the same words, and most of all, you probably didn't love the same person as I did.
I am still going through a learning phase, and probably always will be. I go through my fair share of life experiences, and I grow and learn from them.
I will grow and I will learn on my own - otherwise, nothing is really gained.
My mom and dad have known the wiser from years of raising me - never force me into anything, or I will do the opposite. Advice rendered will always be taken selectively. I think I've grown up just fine this way, thank you very much.
Many heads might be shaking right now - "Listen to that foolish woman".
Foolish, I may seem to you, but I know I am not, in God's eyes.
The only thing I know, and have known so far, is to love, and love deeply.
This is the best I can be, to be more like Him.
I will make my own choices about my life, and bear any mistakes of my own, and hopefully learn from them. Just like what I'm struggling to go through now. A choice that I bore for the past six years that has turned out to be a cruel joke at times, and which I'm still trying to figure out if it's a mistake to bear.
So readers, you'd have to bear with me, my gripings and wallowing and all, if you go on reading as you choose.
My life story hasn't come to an end. There is no director in sight, except the Hand who created it all.
I am only the lead actor in it. Sometimes, the defiant actor questions the Director - Why? Why couldn't You have given me a happier role to play in this story? Why choose me to be the actor in this particular drama?
For only reasons He knows, I suppose.
In time to come, I hope I would realize those reasons too.
In the meantime, the love affair seems to have come to a sad end, but all is not over.
Maybe the chapter will not be closed - for now.
But that's another story to come.
Stay tuned.
Goodbye
The neighborhood folks have put up their red-and-white Singapore flags outside their windows, in celebration of the upcoming National Day.
So have I - except my flag is an all-white one.
Buckets of tears have been shed tonight. They just wouldn't stop.
I wonder how much more in store I have left in me.
I cannot describe how I'm feeling deep inside now - and I won't attempt to.
He almost disappointed me by not picking up my calls nor replying to my messages. But he turned up eventually.
I would only cry buckets in front of him.
Thank you for being there.
You haven't said much tonight though, so I guess I'd never be able to figure out what you're thinking inside. And you haven't attempted to give me a hug. A real physical human touch, that I might miss for a long time to come.
Well, maybe I shouldn't ask for more than I deserve - should I?
I really don't know what I should expect of my life going forward from tonight.
How lonely can loneliness feel?
How sad can sadness get?
How empty can emptiness be?
Who's to listen to me? Who's to give me a hug? Who's to kiss me?
Who's to tell me he loves me?
I wish Piper could speak our worthless human language.
So have I - except my flag is an all-white one.
Buckets of tears have been shed tonight. They just wouldn't stop.
I wonder how much more in store I have left in me.
I cannot describe how I'm feeling deep inside now - and I won't attempt to.
He almost disappointed me by not picking up my calls nor replying to my messages. But he turned up eventually.
I would only cry buckets in front of him.
Thank you for being there.
You haven't said much tonight though, so I guess I'd never be able to figure out what you're thinking inside. And you haven't attempted to give me a hug. A real physical human touch, that I might miss for a long time to come.
Well, maybe I shouldn't ask for more than I deserve - should I?
I really don't know what I should expect of my life going forward from tonight.
How lonely can loneliness feel?
How sad can sadness get?
How empty can emptiness be?
Who's to listen to me? Who's to give me a hug? Who's to kiss me?
Who's to tell me he loves me?
I wish Piper could speak our worthless human language.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Blank
I came home to emptiness.
An empty room. An empty bed.
An empty life.
I haven't slept since I came home. Maybe the 20-hour snooze throughout the journey home is keeping me wide awake now. Or perhaps the emptiness of everything is making it hard for me to fall asleep.
I've emptied my luggage as much as I can. Taken the dirty laundry out to the wash. Put the unworn clothes back into the wardrobe. Stacked all the new clothes I've bought in the cupboard away from the prying eyes of my mother.
The room is still in a mess. It seems messier than it had ever been.
Somehow, I never seem to be able to clean out the mess in my life and in my room.
It's nine, and most folks should be at work by now.
Work - that's something I don't have to think about for the next few days.
I'm grateful for the free days I have to myself - maybe it's a good start to think about stuff and sort things out.
But I'm skeptical, and fearful. Where do I go from here? What am I to do? What am I supposed to say? How should I get myself heard, and get all my questions answered?
Will I see you again?
Is it really all over? Just like that?
I wish I could have the whole house to myself, but I don't and I won't.
My bed is my refuge... and maybe somewhere else out there.
I knew very well this is what I would come back to.
But there's no way I can run away from it.
There are a couple things that need to be done.
My phone is fucking dead. I hope the fix wouldn't cost me a bomb.
I am going to try out a form of pain therapy called inking. Maybe the physical pain infliction may not compare much to the pain I'm going through now, but it might awaken me from my senses - and awaken me to a brand new dawn.
I don't know. We'll see.
An empty room. An empty bed.
An empty life.
I haven't slept since I came home. Maybe the 20-hour snooze throughout the journey home is keeping me wide awake now. Or perhaps the emptiness of everything is making it hard for me to fall asleep.
I've emptied my luggage as much as I can. Taken the dirty laundry out to the wash. Put the unworn clothes back into the wardrobe. Stacked all the new clothes I've bought in the cupboard away from the prying eyes of my mother.
The room is still in a mess. It seems messier than it had ever been.
Somehow, I never seem to be able to clean out the mess in my life and in my room.
It's nine, and most folks should be at work by now.
Work - that's something I don't have to think about for the next few days.
I'm grateful for the free days I have to myself - maybe it's a good start to think about stuff and sort things out.
But I'm skeptical, and fearful. Where do I go from here? What am I to do? What am I supposed to say? How should I get myself heard, and get all my questions answered?
Will I see you again?
Is it really all over? Just like that?
I wish I could have the whole house to myself, but I don't and I won't.
My bed is my refuge... and maybe somewhere else out there.
I knew very well this is what I would come back to.
But there's no way I can run away from it.
There are a couple things that need to be done.
My phone is fucking dead. I hope the fix wouldn't cost me a bomb.
I am going to try out a form of pain therapy called inking. Maybe the physical pain infliction may not compare much to the pain I'm going through now, but it might awaken me from my senses - and awaken me to a brand new dawn.
I don't know. We'll see.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Calamity Jane
Cannot believe this is happening to me. Another calamity.
My precious barely-2-month-old phone fell out of my pocket and into the toilet bowl (yes, still full of piss). I was still adjusting my skirt when I heard the 'plop' and my mind raced frantically to remember what it was I had put into my pocket that could possibly have taken the plunge.
A 2-second dip is just as good (or bad, for that matter) as a tumble in the washing machine.
My phone just wouldn't start up after that. I took out the battery and SIM card and left them all out to dry overnight.
It has shown signs of life this morning, but still it looks cranky.
This is just so fucked up. Everything about me.
I am finally coming home.
Called up the airline last evening, and found myself an empty seat for the flight later at 2 in the afternoon. I have no pissing idea why, but I had to pay for the change in flight schedule. With that amount, I almost could've rented a car for the Vancouver trip.
Still, at this moment, I'd rather leave this (sometimes) cold lonely place and go back to where I can feel the love and kisses from my dogs and to where I can control my life. Here, I am clueless and aimless everyday. There's nothing more for me to see in Portland. I hate this.
Maybe I might regret changing the course of things and going home early. But right now, I just need to throw myself back into the harsh reality back home - and work my way out from there. I'm just done with my thinking here.
I bunked over at a friend's place last night. The sweetest thing I've felt so far throughout the entire trip was how Biskit her little Chihuahua launched himself all over me. I really miss Piper Gracie.
Friend had kindly offered to put me up for the next few days. I had even planned to dog-sit and cook dinner for her. I even thought I would go to campus with her, and work from there and get my leave cancelled.
Friend probably still thinks I should have just stayed on for the next few days - and thinks I'm silly for wanting to go back home to everything now.
But, friend, I cannot stand living my life aimlessly everyday now. There's nothing for me here, and it is really just getting me depressed further.
I think I'm ready for the truth. I think...
Friend dropped me off in downtown on her way to work this morning. I would just hang out here till it's time for me to catch the train to the airport. Like how I used to do.
I'm sitting at my cafe once more - for the last time this trip. The sun is out but rising pretty slowly, so I'm not quite feeling its warmth yet. The cold wind is making me tremble as I type away.
Maybe I should just get to the airport earlier and hang out in the indoor warmth there.
I have received various messages of concern and well wishes from friends. Friends from various points of my life.
Friends whom I thought would have been clueless about everything.
Thank you, girls. Thank you for remembering me - just someone in your life.
You don't have to worry nuts about me. I can take care of myself - I always have and I will.
Maybe the shit I'm going through now is just much bigger than I can take.
But I will wriggle my way out... somehow... eventually. Some fine day.
See y'all back home.
My precious barely-2-month-old phone fell out of my pocket and into the toilet bowl (yes, still full of piss). I was still adjusting my skirt when I heard the 'plop' and my mind raced frantically to remember what it was I had put into my pocket that could possibly have taken the plunge.
A 2-second dip is just as good (or bad, for that matter) as a tumble in the washing machine.
My phone just wouldn't start up after that. I took out the battery and SIM card and left them all out to dry overnight.
It has shown signs of life this morning, but still it looks cranky.
This is just so fucked up. Everything about me.
I am finally coming home.
Called up the airline last evening, and found myself an empty seat for the flight later at 2 in the afternoon. I have no pissing idea why, but I had to pay for the change in flight schedule. With that amount, I almost could've rented a car for the Vancouver trip.
Still, at this moment, I'd rather leave this (sometimes) cold lonely place and go back to where I can feel the love and kisses from my dogs and to where I can control my life. Here, I am clueless and aimless everyday. There's nothing more for me to see in Portland. I hate this.
Maybe I might regret changing the course of things and going home early. But right now, I just need to throw myself back into the harsh reality back home - and work my way out from there. I'm just done with my thinking here.
I bunked over at a friend's place last night. The sweetest thing I've felt so far throughout the entire trip was how Biskit her little Chihuahua launched himself all over me. I really miss Piper Gracie.
Friend had kindly offered to put me up for the next few days. I had even planned to dog-sit and cook dinner for her. I even thought I would go to campus with her, and work from there and get my leave cancelled.
Friend probably still thinks I should have just stayed on for the next few days - and thinks I'm silly for wanting to go back home to everything now.
But, friend, I cannot stand living my life aimlessly everyday now. There's nothing for me here, and it is really just getting me depressed further.
I think I'm ready for the truth. I think...
Friend dropped me off in downtown on her way to work this morning. I would just hang out here till it's time for me to catch the train to the airport. Like how I used to do.
I'm sitting at my cafe once more - for the last time this trip. The sun is out but rising pretty slowly, so I'm not quite feeling its warmth yet. The cold wind is making me tremble as I type away.
Maybe I should just get to the airport earlier and hang out in the indoor warmth there.
I have received various messages of concern and well wishes from friends. Friends from various points of my life.
Friends whom I thought would have been clueless about everything.
Thank you, girls. Thank you for remembering me - just someone in your life.
You don't have to worry nuts about me. I can take care of myself - I always have and I will.
Maybe the shit I'm going through now is just much bigger than I can take.
But I will wriggle my way out... somehow... eventually. Some fine day.
See y'all back home.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Suffering You Must Bear Alone
I could not comfort her, I would not have dared to trepass. All that I could do was to see as she saw, to be moved as she was moved. That kind of suffering you must bear alone. As she said so simply, "It's for me and Mister God", and there's no answer to that.
Most people I knew used God as an excuse for their failure. "He should have done this", or "Why has God done this to me?", but with Mum and Anna difficulties and adversities were merely occasions for doing something. Ugliness was the chance to make beautiful. Sadness was the chance to make glad. Mister God was always available to them.
- Mister God, This Is Anna
I still have not managed to get an earlier flight out. The wait is gruelling.
I will keep on calling.
I have checked out of the hotel since morning, left my freakin' heavy luggage at the front desk, and wandered around downtown for the past four hours.
I have popped in and out of stores, reining myself in strongly from any more buys. Since the day I decided I would not drive up Vancouver after all, I have instead tried to indulge in some retail therapy. I just couldn't care no more about self-control. It didn't help at all that the stuff on sale was really good - too good to pass on.
So, now it's not only that I don't have the mood to travel up to Vancouver, I don't have the money to as well.
I had to literally sit on top of my soft luggage to zip it up. I am just too stuffed. I don't know why as well I am still buying stuff for two - other than the little one. It takes time to give it up altogether, I suppose.
I have just sat my tired ass down at Island Joe's - one of my favorite cafes that not only provides free wi-fi, but serves one of the meanest hot chocolates and grilled turkey-basil-provalone sandwiches around. Most of all, this is all I can afford right now. I'm so low on dollars, and I can't use my Canadian$ here.
The sun is streaming through the trees around me, and I feel warm and cool at the same time. I'm keeping my jacket on - it'd be a hassle to have to put it on and off every ten minutes.
The streets are fairly people-ful. Definitely not as crowded as you would find Orchard Rd on a Sunday. I wonder where Oregonians go and what they do on a Sunday. For sure, whatever they do, they must be with loved ones and friends.
It is a little sad to be sitting alone in a cafe on a Sunday afternoon, when you think about that.
But well, this gives me a good chance to catch on my reading.
Fiction or not, 'Mister God, This Is Anna' surely inspires me without fail.
For one, it makes me wish I were a four-year-old again. Where worries were nothing heard of, and love still remained in its purest, simplest form.
Most people I knew used God as an excuse for their failure. "He should have done this", or "Why has God done this to me?", but with Mum and Anna difficulties and adversities were merely occasions for doing something. Ugliness was the chance to make beautiful. Sadness was the chance to make glad. Mister God was always available to them.
- Mister God, This Is Anna
I still have not managed to get an earlier flight out. The wait is gruelling.
I will keep on calling.
I have checked out of the hotel since morning, left my freakin' heavy luggage at the front desk, and wandered around downtown for the past four hours.
I have popped in and out of stores, reining myself in strongly from any more buys. Since the day I decided I would not drive up Vancouver after all, I have instead tried to indulge in some retail therapy. I just couldn't care no more about self-control. It didn't help at all that the stuff on sale was really good - too good to pass on.
So, now it's not only that I don't have the mood to travel up to Vancouver, I don't have the money to as well.
I had to literally sit on top of my soft luggage to zip it up. I am just too stuffed. I don't know why as well I am still buying stuff for two - other than the little one. It takes time to give it up altogether, I suppose.
I have just sat my tired ass down at Island Joe's - one of my favorite cafes that not only provides free wi-fi, but serves one of the meanest hot chocolates and grilled turkey-basil-provalone sandwiches around. Most of all, this is all I can afford right now. I'm so low on dollars, and I can't use my Canadian$ here.
The sun is streaming through the trees around me, and I feel warm and cool at the same time. I'm keeping my jacket on - it'd be a hassle to have to put it on and off every ten minutes.
The streets are fairly people-ful. Definitely not as crowded as you would find Orchard Rd on a Sunday. I wonder where Oregonians go and what they do on a Sunday. For sure, whatever they do, they must be with loved ones and friends.
It is a little sad to be sitting alone in a cafe on a Sunday afternoon, when you think about that.
But well, this gives me a good chance to catch on my reading.
Fiction or not, 'Mister God, This Is Anna' surely inspires me without fail.
For one, it makes me wish I were a four-year-old again. Where worries were nothing heard of, and love still remained in its purest, simplest form.
What Does Love Mean?
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." - Rebecca, aged 8.
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." - Billy, aged 4.
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." - Karl, aged 5.
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs." - Chrissy, aged 6.
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." - Terri, aged 4.
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." - Danny, aged 7.
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss." - Emily, aged 8.
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." - Bobby, aged 7.
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate." - Nikka, aged 6.
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." - Noelle, aged 7.
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." - Tommy, aged 6.
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." - Cindy, aged 8.
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." - Clare, aged 6.
"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." - Elaine, aged 5.
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." - Chris, aged 7.
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." - Mary Ann, aged 4.
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." - Lauren, aged 4.
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." - Karen, aged 7.
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." - Mark, aged 6.
"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." - Jessica, aged 8.
*****
There was a four-year-old child whose next-door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.
Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.
When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."
*****
Do you think you know it better than these kids?
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." - Billy, aged 4.
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." - Karl, aged 5.
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs." - Chrissy, aged 6.
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." - Terri, aged 4.
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." - Danny, aged 7.
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss." - Emily, aged 8.
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." - Bobby, aged 7.
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate." - Nikka, aged 6.
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." - Noelle, aged 7.
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." - Tommy, aged 6.
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." - Cindy, aged 8.
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." - Clare, aged 6.
"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." - Elaine, aged 5.
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." - Chris, aged 7.
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." - Mary Ann, aged 4.
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." - Lauren, aged 4.
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." - Karen, aged 7.
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." - Mark, aged 6.
"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." - Jessica, aged 8.
*****
There was a four-year-old child whose next-door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.
Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.
When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."
*****
Do you think you know it better than these kids?
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Should I? Am I?
"You should be happy to know that you're so good in your work that you've been offered twice this trip."
Oh, really? Should I be?
How come I don't feel the pride nor happiness?
"You are really good strategically; it'd be a waste to keep you where you are."
Am I really?
If I am, then why is it that I appear to have believed in the wrong one, and invested my faith and emotions in something that would never bear returns? Why couldn't I have foreseen what might come my way? And instead, why have I stupidly hung on to my blind faith for so long, thinking I couldn't have been wrong?
Why couldn't I even steer my life in directions I wanted?
No, I am really not. I can't seem to plan right for my own life, and see it through any.
I have already screwed up my life; I don't want to screw up your business as well.
I wriggled my way out of providing my answer today.
I still cannot make up my mind. There are still too much stuff and too many things I cannot let go of.
And I believe, there are certain things that need to be done before we can embark on others. I am laden with way too much baggage that I don't think I can even trod toward the next step.
This is yet another life decision.
And I am not young anymore. I have lost my youth; I cannot afford to waste any more time on making wrong life decisions.
I can't screw my life up a second time. I don't think I would be able to take it.
And I think it's only fair I am not able to make a decision while I'm here - all alone and faraway from home.
Perhaps things at home will show me a better direction - especially when the truth hits me right in the face and the reality seeps into my mind again.
For now, I really can't think right.
I really have been holding back tears that I wanna let flow. But there's no place I can hide.
I'm gonna keep calling everyday to see if I can catch an earlier flight home.
This trip is fucking killing me.
Oh, really? Should I be?
How come I don't feel the pride nor happiness?
"You are really good strategically; it'd be a waste to keep you where you are."
Am I really?
If I am, then why is it that I appear to have believed in the wrong one, and invested my faith and emotions in something that would never bear returns? Why couldn't I have foreseen what might come my way? And instead, why have I stupidly hung on to my blind faith for so long, thinking I couldn't have been wrong?
Why couldn't I even steer my life in directions I wanted?
No, I am really not. I can't seem to plan right for my own life, and see it through any.
I have already screwed up my life; I don't want to screw up your business as well.
I wriggled my way out of providing my answer today.
I still cannot make up my mind. There are still too much stuff and too many things I cannot let go of.
And I believe, there are certain things that need to be done before we can embark on others. I am laden with way too much baggage that I don't think I can even trod toward the next step.
This is yet another life decision.
And I am not young anymore. I have lost my youth; I cannot afford to waste any more time on making wrong life decisions.
I can't screw my life up a second time. I don't think I would be able to take it.
And I think it's only fair I am not able to make a decision while I'm here - all alone and faraway from home.
Perhaps things at home will show me a better direction - especially when the truth hits me right in the face and the reality seeps into my mind again.
For now, I really can't think right.
I really have been holding back tears that I wanna let flow. But there's no place I can hide.
I'm gonna keep calling everyday to see if I can catch an earlier flight home.
This trip is fucking killing me.
Stuck
I am so farked.
I really can't stand the loneliness anymore. But I'm stuck here.
I just wanna go back home where I can at least seek some solace from my dogs and my pillows. And where I know I can hide.
Can some kind soul out there please cancel your flight plans?
I am so farking stuck here, and I have no farking plans. Not for Vancouver, for sure.
I'm really feeling so farked.
Somehow the thought that I'm going to be stuck here when all I want is to go home, is making me really especially upset. I just really want to cry now.
Why, God?
I'm not giving up - I'm gonna try again later.
I really can't stand the loneliness anymore. But I'm stuck here.
I just wanna go back home where I can at least seek some solace from my dogs and my pillows. And where I know I can hide.
Can some kind soul out there please cancel your flight plans?
I am so farking stuck here, and I have no farking plans. Not for Vancouver, for sure.
I'm really feeling so farked.
Somehow the thought that I'm going to be stuck here when all I want is to go home, is making me really especially upset. I just really want to cry now.
Why, God?
I'm not giving up - I'm gonna try again later.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Poodle
Perth, July 2003.
One of the best times of my life.
That was where I saw a huge black poodle, a pretty handsome one at that, for the first time in my life.
I couldn't resist a picture with the fella.
Yesterday, I spotted yet another huge black poodle, chilling out at a cafe. It brought a huge smile to my face; it made me remember the first encounter. This fella, named Edwin, wasn't as well-groomed nor obedient as the Perth fella, but the face was a huge friendly one, with huge eyes almost covered by the massive amount of curly hair upon his face. It reminded me somewhat of Tommy.
Again, I couldn't resist another picture. Edwin's human kinda ruined it, though. Edwin wasn't quite disciplined as well, and it took me forever to capture this moment. If you looked carefully, I 'cheated' by having to grab his face toward the camera.
The poodle is but one of the many beautiful memories I had of that cold wintery July.
I remember Perth well. Not the exact place, but the many things and 'adventures' we did, we saw, we encountered. I recall most of all the week-long bliss we lived in, after a three- or four-month long separation - the first time we were ever away from each other for so long.
I love best the fact we got ourselves a tiny little apartment for the week, complete with a kitchenette and a small living area. I remember the nights we stayed in to cook - the beef steaks and potatoes, and the instant noodles - just like how we used to back in Hall days. I remember how we snuggled into bed and slept till noon the next day right after dinner, because there was absolutely nothing you could so in wintery Perth past six in the evening - except hanging out at Formosa and unless you wouldn't mind being jostled by Aussies in white pubs or being stabbed by Viets in Asian pubs (or at least, that's what he said).
Oh, for sure I remember those nights at Formosa - my training ground then for Yahoo! Pool and the cafe of the then-popular bubble teas. I remember logging into MSN (or was it still ICQ then?) and having friends asking me, "Eh, I thought you went on holiday? How come you're online almost every evening?" I remember how embarrassed I felt having to admit my no-life nights in Perth.
I remember the huge fish-n-chips meal I tucked into in Fremantle, where he brought me the first day I arrived. The meal of the Ozzies, I thought. I remember seeing many Ozzies hanging out in the cafes in power-suits and heels, and thinking, "No wonder they say Ozzies play harder than they ever work."
I remember driving for an hour out to the countryside (I cannot remember the name, though I know it starts with a letter "Y") and riding a horse by the beach for the first time in my life.
Of course I remember the yellow vintage Triumph I got to drive for the week. I remember driving him back to college on mornings where he had training flights, and hanging out at the cafe alone waiting for him and watching jets-in-training taking off and landing in the open fields in front of me.
I remember the adventures we had: my horse going berserk for a while and kicking the one behind him, causing the poor girl to fly right off onto her bum; the crazy police-car chase that went up the wrong way on a one-way street that we saw in the dead of the night; the dude who made a fast right turn after the lights went green and immediately crashed right into a parked car.
I remember not wanting to leave when it was time for me to go.
We separated for another five months before he came home in December for a while.
I'd never know what happened in those five months.
I remember too much. The memories are too good that they pain me.
Somehow, I wish they would go away from my mind.
One of the best times of my life.
That was where I saw a huge black poodle, a pretty handsome one at that, for the first time in my life.
I couldn't resist a picture with the fella.
Yesterday, I spotted yet another huge black poodle, chilling out at a cafe. It brought a huge smile to my face; it made me remember the first encounter. This fella, named Edwin, wasn't as well-groomed nor obedient as the Perth fella, but the face was a huge friendly one, with huge eyes almost covered by the massive amount of curly hair upon his face. It reminded me somewhat of Tommy.
Again, I couldn't resist another picture. Edwin's human kinda ruined it, though. Edwin wasn't quite disciplined as well, and it took me forever to capture this moment. If you looked carefully, I 'cheated' by having to grab his face toward the camera.
The poodle is but one of the many beautiful memories I had of that cold wintery July.
I remember Perth well. Not the exact place, but the many things and 'adventures' we did, we saw, we encountered. I recall most of all the week-long bliss we lived in, after a three- or four-month long separation - the first time we were ever away from each other for so long.
I love best the fact we got ourselves a tiny little apartment for the week, complete with a kitchenette and a small living area. I remember the nights we stayed in to cook - the beef steaks and potatoes, and the instant noodles - just like how we used to back in Hall days. I remember how we snuggled into bed and slept till noon the next day right after dinner, because there was absolutely nothing you could so in wintery Perth past six in the evening - except hanging out at Formosa and unless you wouldn't mind being jostled by Aussies in white pubs or being stabbed by Viets in Asian pubs (or at least, that's what he said).
Oh, for sure I remember those nights at Formosa - my training ground then for Yahoo! Pool and the cafe of the then-popular bubble teas. I remember logging into MSN (or was it still ICQ then?) and having friends asking me, "Eh, I thought you went on holiday? How come you're online almost every evening?" I remember how embarrassed I felt having to admit my no-life nights in Perth.
I remember the huge fish-n-chips meal I tucked into in Fremantle, where he brought me the first day I arrived. The meal of the Ozzies, I thought. I remember seeing many Ozzies hanging out in the cafes in power-suits and heels, and thinking, "No wonder they say Ozzies play harder than they ever work."
I remember driving for an hour out to the countryside (I cannot remember the name, though I know it starts with a letter "Y") and riding a horse by the beach for the first time in my life.
Of course I remember the yellow vintage Triumph I got to drive for the week. I remember driving him back to college on mornings where he had training flights, and hanging out at the cafe alone waiting for him and watching jets-in-training taking off and landing in the open fields in front of me.
I remember the adventures we had: my horse going berserk for a while and kicking the one behind him, causing the poor girl to fly right off onto her bum; the crazy police-car chase that went up the wrong way on a one-way street that we saw in the dead of the night; the dude who made a fast right turn after the lights went green and immediately crashed right into a parked car.
I remember not wanting to leave when it was time for me to go.
We separated for another five months before he came home in December for a while.
I'd never know what happened in those five months.
I remember too much. The memories are too good that they pain me.
Somehow, I wish they would go away from my mind.
Beaverton Haven
Wouldn't you love to work in a 'campus' like this?
The field is christened after Ronaldo and the gym beyond, Lance Armstrong.
Rumor has it that whoever stupidly jumps into the lake risks losing his job.
The Tiger Woods building, where I spent everyday of this week holed up in.
The campus is almost self-sufficient - complete with a fully-equiped gym with in-house trainers and instructors, a heated pool, tennis courts, basketball courts, two football pitches, a mini putting green, a lake with swans and ducks, cafeterias, a restaurant and a bar, buildings named after famous athletes, and two 'co-op' styled stores.
Yes, they actually sell postcards just like these in the co-op stores.
Wouldn't you, or anyone, have loved to work in a haven just like this?
I used to.
Now, I really don't know anymore.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Canned
I think I'm shelving the Vancouver trip.
I just can't seem to conjure up the spirits to continue the half-fark planning, work out various sums for the available modes of transport, think of where to go and what to do for three full days.
More importantly, I don't think now I can manage the seven-hour drive. Despite the multiple insurance plans I've gotten for myself this trip, I don't think it's nice to smash up a car.
I really have no mood to spend money on a trip as well now. I think the money saved is going to be much needed in coming times. I have various unpaid bills I can never keep track of.
And perhaps, most of all, I don't think I can handle, not right now, the questions that I will hate to answer and now to even hear. I know my kind folks up in Vancouver are bound to ask - I can see it coming from here.
So I suppose, best way to avoid is to disappear. I oughta learn this trick from someone who's been pulling it on me well enough to proof its effectiveness.
I still have my week-long vacation. I just don't know what I'm going to do and where I'm going.
This city has suddenly become depressing for me. I am beginning to feel mixed emotions about it - and all for the wrong reasons.
I feel like running back to the comforts of home and Piper, yet I don't want to return to my life.
I must've looked a total wreck since morning. Nobody has really said a word nor asked a question, but I can tell from the stares and the concerned look on their faces.
The bolder, and perhaps more concerned, ones did say, "You look really tired."
I only managed a faint smile - I couldn't answer because I knew the voice would break.
I made countless visits to the women's room as well - just to check on my eyes now and then. They just looked so blood-shot and puffed up all the time. I gave up trying to soothe them after a while.
I'm too tired even to hide.
It's just a really bad day at the wrong time.
I skipped dinner plans with the other folks. My roomie had her own dinner plans as well, and so I had the whole room to myself, for once, when I got back in the evening.
I slept. Like I should.
But I woke up with a jolt past midnight - I'm hungry, and I still have lots of unfinished thinking to do and a big deicision to make.
My deadline's tomorrow.
I think I've made enough bad moves in my life so far - I just can't help but feel I'm about to make another one tomorrow.
I really still can't make up my mind.
I thought the decision-making process would have been made easier for me now - but I'm awfully wrong. Which is what makes me wonder if a bad move was made last night.
This place that I've always adored suddenly seems daunting to me, everywhere I go.
All I can see is loneliness and despair - in the vast empty spaces and the quiet streets. I think I'm even beginning to feel it even before it really gets to me.
I'm starting to miss things even before I'm really losing them.
I'm imagining a new life even before I'm actually living it - and it scares me.
I have a life I want to run away from, but there are also parts of it I can't bear to leave behind.
I don't know anymore if I really want to run away.
What if this is not what I wanted? What if this makes me even more depressed and lonely than I should?
What if the girls cannot get used to this?
Do I stay on the shore, with sand so hot that it might burn my feet? Or do I plunge myself into the deep blue ocean, with a bottom so deep you never know what's beneath your feet?
Right now, all I know is I have hell lot of thinking to do. I don't have much time left - literally.
Since I've jolted back from sleep, I can't seem to fall asleep again. And I probably shouldn't until I convince myself of a choice.
I'm so farking hungry though, I'm contemplating sneaking out in search of hot hot cocoa.
God, please send my kisses thousands of miles back home and please stay with me tonight.
I just can't seem to conjure up the spirits to continue the half-fark planning, work out various sums for the available modes of transport, think of where to go and what to do for three full days.
More importantly, I don't think now I can manage the seven-hour drive. Despite the multiple insurance plans I've gotten for myself this trip, I don't think it's nice to smash up a car.
I really have no mood to spend money on a trip as well now. I think the money saved is going to be much needed in coming times. I have various unpaid bills I can never keep track of.
And perhaps, most of all, I don't think I can handle, not right now, the questions that I will hate to answer and now to even hear. I know my kind folks up in Vancouver are bound to ask - I can see it coming from here.
So I suppose, best way to avoid is to disappear. I oughta learn this trick from someone who's been pulling it on me well enough to proof its effectiveness.
I still have my week-long vacation. I just don't know what I'm going to do and where I'm going.
This city has suddenly become depressing for me. I am beginning to feel mixed emotions about it - and all for the wrong reasons.
I feel like running back to the comforts of home and Piper, yet I don't want to return to my life.
I must've looked a total wreck since morning. Nobody has really said a word nor asked a question, but I can tell from the stares and the concerned look on their faces.
The bolder, and perhaps more concerned, ones did say, "You look really tired."
I only managed a faint smile - I couldn't answer because I knew the voice would break.
I made countless visits to the women's room as well - just to check on my eyes now and then. They just looked so blood-shot and puffed up all the time. I gave up trying to soothe them after a while.
I'm too tired even to hide.
It's just a really bad day at the wrong time.
I skipped dinner plans with the other folks. My roomie had her own dinner plans as well, and so I had the whole room to myself, for once, when I got back in the evening.
I slept. Like I should.
But I woke up with a jolt past midnight - I'm hungry, and I still have lots of unfinished thinking to do and a big deicision to make.
My deadline's tomorrow.
I think I've made enough bad moves in my life so far - I just can't help but feel I'm about to make another one tomorrow.
I really still can't make up my mind.
I thought the decision-making process would have been made easier for me now - but I'm awfully wrong. Which is what makes me wonder if a bad move was made last night.
This place that I've always adored suddenly seems daunting to me, everywhere I go.
All I can see is loneliness and despair - in the vast empty spaces and the quiet streets. I think I'm even beginning to feel it even before it really gets to me.
I'm starting to miss things even before I'm really losing them.
I'm imagining a new life even before I'm actually living it - and it scares me.
I have a life I want to run away from, but there are also parts of it I can't bear to leave behind.
I don't know anymore if I really want to run away.
What if this is not what I wanted? What if this makes me even more depressed and lonely than I should?
What if the girls cannot get used to this?
Do I stay on the shore, with sand so hot that it might burn my feet? Or do I plunge myself into the deep blue ocean, with a bottom so deep you never know what's beneath your feet?
Right now, all I know is I have hell lot of thinking to do. I don't have much time left - literally.
Since I've jolted back from sleep, I can't seem to fall asleep again. And I probably shouldn't until I convince myself of a choice.
I'm so farking hungry though, I'm contemplating sneaking out in search of hot hot cocoa.
God, please send my kisses thousands of miles back home and please stay with me tonight.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Hate
Whatever little left of the night that I had to live through, I struggled. To fall asleep.
Lying in bed in total silence, the tears would come. I had to take a walk out in the cold. The outside air cleared me up but the coldness drove me back to the room.
I slept for barely an hour, but I had an epic dream. I think God answered my request.
It was by no means like any of my usually weird dreams. Everything was played out concisely as they are - and perhaps, how they should be.
It was epic because people who matter to me all appeared in it.
My girlfriends at work, my mom, my closer friends. And of cos, the man.
It was like God put them in my dream last night because I might not get to see them much anymore.
Everything does happen for a reason.
Just like how the decision I had to make about my life fell into my laps - of all times, now when I'm thousands of miles away from home and from him.
I hate technology - MSN did the job. Fuck it.
Maybe he was right - maybe I lost the faith.
Maybe I didn't see the efforts he was putting in, and the struggles he was going through, and only saw my own pain and confusion. But perhaps again, telling me might have help.
Then again - what efforts? I trid hard to think while I was out in the cold. Maybe there were, but I just couldn't see or feel them.
There are a lot of maybes swimming in my head; I think they would eventually just drown on their own without getting any form of rescue.
I don't know what lies ahead.
Everything happens for a reason, that's true.
The worse, or maybe exciting to some, part is that you don't know where everything might lead to.
Nothing is predictable. I hate change - I hate that I couldn't change, and I hate that change took away my life.
I am looking forward to solitude. A life of my own, and on my own.
I only hope the girls can live with it.
Leaving everything behind sounds easy.
But before you even embark on it, everything about it scares you.
Loneliness, friends that will be missed, new pressures to face up to, no one to ask if you had eaten dinner.
It's scary how the amount of love that remains is being countered by an equal amount of hate.
I can't handle both in me. I am confusing myself.
Lying in bed in total silence, the tears would come. I had to take a walk out in the cold. The outside air cleared me up but the coldness drove me back to the room.
I slept for barely an hour, but I had an epic dream. I think God answered my request.
It was by no means like any of my usually weird dreams. Everything was played out concisely as they are - and perhaps, how they should be.
It was epic because people who matter to me all appeared in it.
My girlfriends at work, my mom, my closer friends. And of cos, the man.
It was like God put them in my dream last night because I might not get to see them much anymore.
Everything does happen for a reason.
Just like how the decision I had to make about my life fell into my laps - of all times, now when I'm thousands of miles away from home and from him.
I hate technology - MSN did the job. Fuck it.
Maybe he was right - maybe I lost the faith.
Maybe I didn't see the efforts he was putting in, and the struggles he was going through, and only saw my own pain and confusion. But perhaps again, telling me might have help.
Then again - what efforts? I trid hard to think while I was out in the cold. Maybe there were, but I just couldn't see or feel them.
There are a lot of maybes swimming in my head; I think they would eventually just drown on their own without getting any form of rescue.
I don't know what lies ahead.
Everything happens for a reason, that's true.
The worse, or maybe exciting to some, part is that you don't know where everything might lead to.
Nothing is predictable. I hate change - I hate that I couldn't change, and I hate that change took away my life.
I am looking forward to solitude. A life of my own, and on my own.
I only hope the girls can live with it.
Leaving everything behind sounds easy.
But before you even embark on it, everything about it scares you.
Loneliness, friends that will be missed, new pressures to face up to, no one to ask if you had eaten dinner.
It's scary how the amount of love that remains is being countered by an equal amount of hate.
I can't handle both in me. I am confusing myself.
why
The truth hurts the most, especially when you are expecting it.
Especially when you've been given the chance to taste it bit by bit.
I still don't understand a lot of things. I don't understand why I deserve all this.
I probably never will.
I wish I never lived past this night.
Especially when you've been given the chance to taste it bit by bit.
I still don't understand a lot of things. I don't understand why I deserve all this.
I probably never will.
I wish I never lived past this night.
I Know Nothing
I think I'm a hazard to my own health.
When I'm deprived of beef, I don't get to touch a cow for weeks, or sometimes even months.
When my craving hits a high and cannot be contained no more, all hell breaks loose.
I had my long-awaited Vietnamese beef noodles for lunch. And a 14-ounce slab of juicy marbled rib-eye steak for dinner.
Noo... there was no stopping me. I chewed my meat slowly, savoring every single bite of flavor - fats and all.
I have been waiting a long time for this meal. Still, there wasn't as much satisfaction as I had expected of myself.
Perhaps it's true after all - that the higher the expectation you set upon yourself, the lower the satisfaction will be felt.
Don't always expect too much.
Time is indeed running out for me. Literally.
I only have two more days to make major life-changing decisions.
I have no divine help, nor am I Miss-Know-It-All.
I don't wish to be alone in this. I thought I was almost forgotten.
Dear God, give me a good dream tonight, please.
When I'm deprived of beef, I don't get to touch a cow for weeks, or sometimes even months.
When my craving hits a high and cannot be contained no more, all hell breaks loose.
I had my long-awaited Vietnamese beef noodles for lunch. And a 14-ounce slab of juicy marbled rib-eye steak for dinner.
Noo... there was no stopping me. I chewed my meat slowly, savoring every single bite of flavor - fats and all.
I have been waiting a long time for this meal. Still, there wasn't as much satisfaction as I had expected of myself.
Perhaps it's true after all - that the higher the expectation you set upon yourself, the lower the satisfaction will be felt.
Don't always expect too much.
Time is indeed running out for me. Literally.
I only have two more days to make major life-changing decisions.
I have no divine help, nor am I Miss-Know-It-All.
I don't wish to be alone in this. I thought I was almost forgotten.
Dear God, give me a good dream tonight, please.
Sweet Sounds
Ten o'clock.
It's only ten. And I'm feeling restless already. There are no presentations to sit through today; there are only working sessions. Heavy working sessions - which makes time pass even slower.
The sausage-egg-n-cheese-McGriddle I had for breakfast tasted heavenly, but only for the first few bites.
The sweet-and-savoury taste at the same time just got to me after a while.
I hope we get to eat Vietnamese for lunch later - I have been craving beef noodles for the longest time, hasn't anyone heard me?
It felt really really good to hear your voice.
It's only ten. And I'm feeling restless already. There are no presentations to sit through today; there are only working sessions. Heavy working sessions - which makes time pass even slower.
The sausage-egg-n-cheese-McGriddle I had for breakfast tasted heavenly, but only for the first few bites.
The sweet-and-savoury taste at the same time just got to me after a while.
I hope we get to eat Vietnamese for lunch later - I have been craving beef noodles for the longest time, hasn't anyone heard me?
It felt really really good to hear your voice.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Yikes!
I struck a good deal with my roomie.
I should get the shower room first before I headed out to the business center, so I wouldn't have to disrupt her sleep when I returned in the wee hours.
It worked.
I managed to sneak back into the room, changed out into my pjs and climbed into bed, all in total stealth. As I lay in bed, I listened hard to see if she was aroused from her sleep - and she was still snoring slightly.
Goods.
Yeah, and lay in bed for a long time, I did.
My eyes stayed wide open in the darkness and my mind was just racing away.
I told myself, I would write uplifting posts the next day - just to tell myself I'm ok.
But eeeks - horror of all horrors, I had to dream of work.
Like that, how to lift my moods up early on in the day?
I'm being chased away by some construction workers who want to lift my table away.
Damn.
I should get the shower room first before I headed out to the business center, so I wouldn't have to disrupt her sleep when I returned in the wee hours.
It worked.
I managed to sneak back into the room, changed out into my pjs and climbed into bed, all in total stealth. As I lay in bed, I listened hard to see if she was aroused from her sleep - and she was still snoring slightly.
Goods.
Yeah, and lay in bed for a long time, I did.
My eyes stayed wide open in the darkness and my mind was just racing away.
I told myself, I would write uplifting posts the next day - just to tell myself I'm ok.
But eeeks - horror of all horrors, I had to dream of work.
Like that, how to lift my moods up early on in the day?
I'm being chased away by some construction workers who want to lift my table away.
Damn.
I Wish...
I am getting so sick of these one-week-long meetings.
They are an absolute waste of time. If the meetings had more valuable takeaways, then probably I wouldn't be feeling so helpless now. And the depression wouldn't set in so quickly as well.
I have tons of work to do and send back to Singapore, but I haven't had time at all in the past two days to work on them.
I have lots to plan for as well - the B.C. trip is still in limbo.
I tried checking up the web sites, and working out the estimated costs. A rented car for 3 days would cost me less than half the price of an air ticket, but the double that of a Greyhound ticket.
Money? Or adventure?
Life? Or no life?
It's exactly one in the morning right now.
I'm still in the business center, all alone. I discovered this gem of a place within the hotel last night - free cabled internet access. It felt like I found heaven.
My roomie should be fast asleep by now. I think she's turned out to be the one suffering from my irregular sleep hours, but I can't help it. This is the only time in the day that I can get some personal stuff done.
I don't mean to be mean - but I don't think I should room with her the next trip, if we can help it.
Other than the presentations I've been struggling through, the unfinished work that's awaiting me, my mind has been preoccupied largely by other matters. That wouldn't go away.
Do I want them to go away? Don't I need to think harder and to delve deeper for answers?
Do I run away? Or stay to face the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
To get a truth, there must be a provider.
Pinning down the provider is the tough one.
I'm totally puzzled.
Why do some folks see me in a way that I don't see myself? Why can't I see the woman that they see?
Have I really lost myself? Or am I just living up to an empty image that people would like to see?
I don't want to let nobody down.
But most of all, I don't want to let myself down.
I want so bad to fight for what's mine because I don't want to have no more regrets in my life - but what is rightfully mine? Do I define what's mine, or is it dictated to me by someone else?
I am pushing my late twenties, and I am moving further and further away from the life I've wanted. At times, I feel like time is running out on me, but most times, I have no idea what I am to do about it.
Life is tough - I know, you know.
I will have to go through this - I know.
I have to weave my way round - I know.
Tell me something else that I don't know.
At some point today, my mind got so loaded, in the midst of a presentation, I suddenly felt so homesick.
So out of place where I am now - so out of place in this world.
Suddenly, I felt convinced I don't belong here, I don't belong anywhere, I don't belong to anyone, I don't belong to this world.
I just wanted to - die.
Just a fleeting thought - and I jolted myself back to the meeting room.
A close girlfriend at work had a hard-to-come-by opportunity to relocate to the regional office in Hong Kong, to take on a bigger role, just at a point when she was feeling so unmotivated at work and motivated to look for a new job elsewhere.
Everything was in the works - her moving over with her baby, her mom, and even her hubby who was willing to quit his job to join her for a new life in HK.
Then suddenly, one day, she turned the offer down and decided to stay on where she is.
I learned that her hubby got a new job offer in Singapore that seemed as prospective as her new job in HK promised to be.
She decided her hubby's new job would be more important to him than her new job would be to her.
So she gave up her exciting new dream that came so close to being true.
Another veteran in the organization, some big-shot based in the campus, has just decided to retire officially after twenty years of service (I told you we are all suckers for brand passion in this company).
Her reason: she wants to give up her passion to spend more time with her daughters; it's high time.
I admire these people from the bottom of my heart, because they believe in the same values as I do.
I don't deem them 'silly'. I respect them for the courage that they have.
At this moment, I wish I had someone to consider for. I wish I belonged to someone - someone whose love for me would make me re-think about life decisions.
I wish I had someone to tell me, "I want you to stay".
I wish.
They are an absolute waste of time. If the meetings had more valuable takeaways, then probably I wouldn't be feeling so helpless now. And the depression wouldn't set in so quickly as well.
I have tons of work to do and send back to Singapore, but I haven't had time at all in the past two days to work on them.
I have lots to plan for as well - the B.C. trip is still in limbo.
I tried checking up the web sites, and working out the estimated costs. A rented car for 3 days would cost me less than half the price of an air ticket, but the double that of a Greyhound ticket.
Money? Or adventure?
Life? Or no life?
It's exactly one in the morning right now.
I'm still in the business center, all alone. I discovered this gem of a place within the hotel last night - free cabled internet access. It felt like I found heaven.
My roomie should be fast asleep by now. I think she's turned out to be the one suffering from my irregular sleep hours, but I can't help it. This is the only time in the day that I can get some personal stuff done.
I don't mean to be mean - but I don't think I should room with her the next trip, if we can help it.
Other than the presentations I've been struggling through, the unfinished work that's awaiting me, my mind has been preoccupied largely by other matters. That wouldn't go away.
Do I want them to go away? Don't I need to think harder and to delve deeper for answers?
Do I run away? Or stay to face the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
To get a truth, there must be a provider.
Pinning down the provider is the tough one.
I'm totally puzzled.
Why do some folks see me in a way that I don't see myself? Why can't I see the woman that they see?
Have I really lost myself? Or am I just living up to an empty image that people would like to see?
I don't want to let nobody down.
But most of all, I don't want to let myself down.
I want so bad to fight for what's mine because I don't want to have no more regrets in my life - but what is rightfully mine? Do I define what's mine, or is it dictated to me by someone else?
I am pushing my late twenties, and I am moving further and further away from the life I've wanted. At times, I feel like time is running out on me, but most times, I have no idea what I am to do about it.
Life is tough - I know, you know.
I will have to go through this - I know.
I have to weave my way round - I know.
Tell me something else that I don't know.
At some point today, my mind got so loaded, in the midst of a presentation, I suddenly felt so homesick.
So out of place where I am now - so out of place in this world.
Suddenly, I felt convinced I don't belong here, I don't belong anywhere, I don't belong to anyone, I don't belong to this world.
I just wanted to - die.
Just a fleeting thought - and I jolted myself back to the meeting room.
A close girlfriend at work had a hard-to-come-by opportunity to relocate to the regional office in Hong Kong, to take on a bigger role, just at a point when she was feeling so unmotivated at work and motivated to look for a new job elsewhere.
Everything was in the works - her moving over with her baby, her mom, and even her hubby who was willing to quit his job to join her for a new life in HK.
Then suddenly, one day, she turned the offer down and decided to stay on where she is.
I learned that her hubby got a new job offer in Singapore that seemed as prospective as her new job in HK promised to be.
She decided her hubby's new job would be more important to him than her new job would be to her.
So she gave up her exciting new dream that came so close to being true.
Another veteran in the organization, some big-shot based in the campus, has just decided to retire officially after twenty years of service (I told you we are all suckers for brand passion in this company).
Her reason: she wants to give up her passion to spend more time with her daughters; it's high time.
I admire these people from the bottom of my heart, because they believe in the same values as I do.
I don't deem them 'silly'. I respect them for the courage that they have.
At this moment, I wish I had someone to consider for. I wish I belonged to someone - someone whose love for me would make me re-think about life decisions.
I wish I had someone to tell me, "I want you to stay".
I wish.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Man in Dream
I wanted to read.
But barely reading beyond one page, I fell into slumber.
It was quite a deep sleep, but I remembered I had a funny dream as well. It was a normal one, he and I on an adventure, but something terrible happened... I think.
For the life of me, I cannot recall what the horrible thing was - I can only well remember he and I were together in the dream - like normal. On a adventure. Like how I always dream of us.
Buddy: Does the man know what you want, or don't want? Have you actually told him?
Me: I think so. I never really told him, but he should know.
Buddy: That means you never told him what you want? How he know?
Me: If he doesn't want to talk, how to tell him?!
Buddy: Oh...
Men! For goodness' sake!
But barely reading beyond one page, I fell into slumber.
It was quite a deep sleep, but I remembered I had a funny dream as well. It was a normal one, he and I on an adventure, but something terrible happened... I think.
For the life of me, I cannot recall what the horrible thing was - I can only well remember he and I were together in the dream - like normal. On a adventure. Like how I always dream of us.
Buddy: Does the man know what you want, or don't want? Have you actually told him?
Me: I think so. I never really told him, but he should know.
Buddy: That means you never told him what you want? How he know?
Me: If he doesn't want to talk, how to tell him?!
Buddy: Oh...
Men! For goodness' sake!
Stumped
Fark.
I dug through hell to find this 'spare' new pair of my favorite shoes to bring along to Portland. They're light and they go with almost everything in my wardrobe - and in my luggage. And, I repeat, they are brand new.
First day barely gone past, and one side's broken. I'm so pissed. At least, the last pair lasted me almost four years before they broke down.
It's half past midnight, early Tuesday morning.
I have no mood to sleep, nor to check up on my travel plan up to Vancouver.
I've been stumped unexpectedly today - or maybe, expectedly.
I have big decisions to make.
But I don't want to make them alone.
And there are much bigger issues on hand that matter more to me.
Can you understand? Do you understand?
I have only myself in this city tonight. It's a good thing that I'm used to crying to myself then.
I dug through hell to find this 'spare' new pair of my favorite shoes to bring along to Portland. They're light and they go with almost everything in my wardrobe - and in my luggage. And, I repeat, they are brand new.
First day barely gone past, and one side's broken. I'm so pissed. At least, the last pair lasted me almost four years before they broke down.
It's half past midnight, early Tuesday morning.
I have no mood to sleep, nor to check up on my travel plan up to Vancouver.
I've been stumped unexpectedly today - or maybe, expectedly.
I have big decisions to make.
But I don't want to make them alone.
And there are much bigger issues on hand that matter more to me.
Can you understand? Do you understand?
I have only myself in this city tonight. It's a good thing that I'm used to crying to myself then.
???
Questions, questions, questions on my mind.
They were on my mind before I came here. I didn't make any decision nor get any answers for them.
And I tried to make them go away while I was here, hoping they wouldn't pop up.
But I couldn't hide.
Why?
How?
Will you?
Should I?
What should I do?
God - are You trying to tell me something again?
They were on my mind before I came here. I didn't make any decision nor get any answers for them.
And I tried to make them go away while I was here, hoping they wouldn't pop up.
But I couldn't hide.
Why?
How?
Will you?
Should I?
What should I do?
God - are You trying to tell me something again?
Monday, July 18, 2005
Good Morning, Portland!
Bright and early. Quarter to six in the morning. And the sun has already started to rise.
The streets are still quiet, save for the few homeless wandering around. The trucks are on their rounds delivering milk and picking up trash.
A kind lady, probably the age of my mom, walked by with a cup of coffee in her hands and startled me when she said, "Sweetie, there are a lot of homeless folks and drug-dealers walking around. You might wanna put your bag away where you can keep it safe."
Gee. And I never thought they were that 'harm-ful'. All I thought they would do, at least here in Portland, was to ask for coffee money. Then again, this ain't Singapore.
Well, then again, I had encountered worse in Singapore.
Some years back, the man and I were having dinner in the crowded People's Park hawkie, sharing the same table with another couple. As usual, we would order dishes after dishes from different stalls, and when they served and we paid, we would simply leave the loose change on the table as we continued gobbling up our dinner.
Old man walked by and stopped at our table, started gargling away and waving his hands madly. Mute, he must be, we thought. Or maybe he was just pretending to be mute, as we concluded later when all of a sudden, while we were left open-mouthed confused by him, he just picked up the loose change on the table, hand-gestured a 'thanks' and walked away.
Oh, dumbfounded we both definitely were. The other couple sitting with us didn't know whether to laugh or to express sympathy.
Well, at least, we hoped it counted as a good deed rendered - however against our intentions it was.
Ok - I'm not supposed to be telling any story now because I don't have much time left till we leave the hotel for the campus. I'm still waiting for my pictures to load up. And I'm talking to the friendly EKIN on MSN at the same time. God, please help me.
I fell asleep by midnight, struggling to finish my work (which unfortunately is still not completed), and was up and about by half past four in the morning. My stomach was growling with hunger, just in time for my planned trip to the cafe.
See? I'm weird. I have no qualms waking up at 4 in the morning here, but I can't drag my ass out of bed at 7 back home.
And I don't think my roomie is going to have a good week, trying to adjust to her roomie's weird sleeping habits.
I was being a good aunt yesterday. I bought stuff for the little man, before I would buy anything for myself.
That eases the guilt much much more.
Since my ex-boss is no longer travelling with us on this trip, and my now-boss was here a day earlier for a side meeting, I became again the self-designated driver - "Hey, I need the practice for my Vancouver roadtrip" was my excuse.
And because there are six of us on this trip, I got us a monster.
I have never driven a car this huge, but it sure does feel 'queenly' being elevated much higher above the ground. I kept praying my side mirrors didn't get knocked off.
Anyway, my philosophy is: when you rent a car, get something you'd never be able to buy with your own money.
Makes good sense, especially if you're a poor car-lover? No?
And now that we don't have my ex-boss here hogging the car-keys, I think we can drive out for a nice hot Vietnamese lunch when we get sick of the cold sandwiches and falitas we're always fed here at the meeting.
The Vancouver trip is getting tricker.
1 - If I rent a car here in the US and drop it off in Canada, it's going to cost me an obscene sum of money. How obscene? I've yet to find out.
2 - So if I rent the car throughout the four days I'm in Vancouver, it might cost me more than budgetted for, but I'd just be charged the normal daily rates but I'm not sure if the car would be utilized for the four days. Hmm... maybe then, I might be able to drive to the mountains after all.
3 - I may have to leave Vancouver on July 27, so I can take a Greyhound from Seattle to Portland in the morning of July 28, so I can catch my 2pm flight back home.
4 - If I keep my rented car for the four days, I'd have to leave Vancouver in the wee hours of July 28 to head back to Portland, so I can catch my 2pm flight back home.
Argh. ARgh. ARGH.
Don't want to rack my brains now.
The streets are still quiet, save for the few homeless wandering around. The trucks are on their rounds delivering milk and picking up trash.
A kind lady, probably the age of my mom, walked by with a cup of coffee in her hands and startled me when she said, "Sweetie, there are a lot of homeless folks and drug-dealers walking around. You might wanna put your bag away where you can keep it safe."
Gee. And I never thought they were that 'harm-ful'. All I thought they would do, at least here in Portland, was to ask for coffee money. Then again, this ain't Singapore.
Well, then again, I had encountered worse in Singapore.
Some years back, the man and I were having dinner in the crowded People's Park hawkie, sharing the same table with another couple. As usual, we would order dishes after dishes from different stalls, and when they served and we paid, we would simply leave the loose change on the table as we continued gobbling up our dinner.
Old man walked by and stopped at our table, started gargling away and waving his hands madly. Mute, he must be, we thought. Or maybe he was just pretending to be mute, as we concluded later when all of a sudden, while we were left open-mouthed confused by him, he just picked up the loose change on the table, hand-gestured a 'thanks' and walked away.
Oh, dumbfounded we both definitely were. The other couple sitting with us didn't know whether to laugh or to express sympathy.
Well, at least, we hoped it counted as a good deed rendered - however against our intentions it was.
Ok - I'm not supposed to be telling any story now because I don't have much time left till we leave the hotel for the campus. I'm still waiting for my pictures to load up. And I'm talking to the friendly EKIN on MSN at the same time. God, please help me.
I fell asleep by midnight, struggling to finish my work (which unfortunately is still not completed), and was up and about by half past four in the morning. My stomach was growling with hunger, just in time for my planned trip to the cafe.
See? I'm weird. I have no qualms waking up at 4 in the morning here, but I can't drag my ass out of bed at 7 back home.
And I don't think my roomie is going to have a good week, trying to adjust to her roomie's weird sleeping habits.
I was being a good aunt yesterday. I bought stuff for the little man, before I would buy anything for myself.
That eases the guilt much much more.
Since my ex-boss is no longer travelling with us on this trip, and my now-boss was here a day earlier for a side meeting, I became again the self-designated driver - "Hey, I need the practice for my Vancouver roadtrip" was my excuse.
And because there are six of us on this trip, I got us a monster.
I have never driven a car this huge, but it sure does feel 'queenly' being elevated much higher above the ground. I kept praying my side mirrors didn't get knocked off.
Anyway, my philosophy is: when you rent a car, get something you'd never be able to buy with your own money.
Makes good sense, especially if you're a poor car-lover? No?
And now that we don't have my ex-boss here hogging the car-keys, I think we can drive out for a nice hot Vietnamese lunch when we get sick of the cold sandwiches and falitas we're always fed here at the meeting.
The Vancouver trip is getting tricker.
1 - If I rent a car here in the US and drop it off in Canada, it's going to cost me an obscene sum of money. How obscene? I've yet to find out.
2 - So if I rent the car throughout the four days I'm in Vancouver, it might cost me more than budgetted for, but I'd just be charged the normal daily rates but I'm not sure if the car would be utilized for the four days. Hmm... maybe then, I might be able to drive to the mountains after all.
3 - I may have to leave Vancouver on July 27, so I can take a Greyhound from Seattle to Portland in the morning of July 28, so I can catch my 2pm flight back home.
4 - If I keep my rented car for the four days, I'd have to leave Vancouver in the wee hours of July 28 to head back to Portland, so I can catch my 2pm flight back home.
Argh. ARgh. ARGH.
Don't want to rack my brains now.
What Time Is It?
Sitting here at one of my favorite free-wifi cafes in Portland now.
Need that shot of caffeine to keep myself awake till night-time. Not quite hungry as my colleagues are - all I did on the 9-hour flight here was to sleep and eat and sleep and eat. I caught a pretty good British film, and fell asleep throughout the next one.
And I realized I did not get up once to use the loo at all. Not that I am missing it, but it's strange how my bladder seems to expand when I'm high up there in the skies. True? No?
Weather here is warm and sunny, maybe even as high as 30 degree Celsius. I love summer here. You see clear blue skies, you feel the sun on your skin, you get to wear flip-flops and skirts with tank-tops, but you also feel the cool breeze, and your face doesn't oil up that quickly.
But right now, I'm sitting, though al fresco, in a completely shaded street. So I don't feel the sun, and instead, the cool breeze is drying up my eyes and making me put on my sweater. Yikes.
It's also taking me a while to figure out the time here. It's almost 12 noon. Way earlier than it feels.
See, I'm wearing my beat-up analog Casio and still living on Singapore time.
I'd rather live with the hassle of taking a few seconds to figure out the time, than adjusting the hands of the clock.
I love this watch too much. I wear it everyday with everything. It's pure vanity and laziness.
I have half a day to go on my own.
I'm givng up the outlet malls - it's too long a drive and I'm tired.
I have checked in, but not into the rooms because they aren't ready yet. So I don't think I should venture that faraway as well.
It's a 'new' hotel we're checking into this time round. The one we usually stay in has run out of rooms for us. It's a good thing actually - the usual one kinda sucks. The one we're staying in seems new and has a comtemporary setting. I hope the bathroom and bed are cool. Oh, and I hope comtemporary hotels offer free internet services. Hiak.
I may just check out the malls downtown. See if I could do a little shopping here. There should be good enough sale-items going around here. If I'm energetic enough to ransack the racks.
I've also got to get some work done in the room later, and send it out to my mates back in Singapore. Bugger. Don't think I'll get to sleep well at all tonight.
None of my friends at home is online now. Yeah, it's going to be Monday at work in 5 hours, and so they should all probably be fast asleep. To my friend who's starting his new job today, good luck. =)
I see the man online though, but he's not answering me. I think he's busy with his game. Either that, or I think he's just fallen asleep with the computer turned on.
I'd better run. My friend D has just messaged to say she's coming by to pick me up to the mall. Good girl.
Erm... confession: since you weren't around, I 'stole' your yen and your Nike watch that you've since chucked aside. =P
Need that shot of caffeine to keep myself awake till night-time. Not quite hungry as my colleagues are - all I did on the 9-hour flight here was to sleep and eat and sleep and eat. I caught a pretty good British film, and fell asleep throughout the next one.
And I realized I did not get up once to use the loo at all. Not that I am missing it, but it's strange how my bladder seems to expand when I'm high up there in the skies. True? No?
Weather here is warm and sunny, maybe even as high as 30 degree Celsius. I love summer here. You see clear blue skies, you feel the sun on your skin, you get to wear flip-flops and skirts with tank-tops, but you also feel the cool breeze, and your face doesn't oil up that quickly.
But right now, I'm sitting, though al fresco, in a completely shaded street. So I don't feel the sun, and instead, the cool breeze is drying up my eyes and making me put on my sweater. Yikes.
It's also taking me a while to figure out the time here. It's almost 12 noon. Way earlier than it feels.
See, I'm wearing my beat-up analog Casio and still living on Singapore time.
I'd rather live with the hassle of taking a few seconds to figure out the time, than adjusting the hands of the clock.
I love this watch too much. I wear it everyday with everything. It's pure vanity and laziness.
I have half a day to go on my own.
I'm givng up the outlet malls - it's too long a drive and I'm tired.
I have checked in, but not into the rooms because they aren't ready yet. So I don't think I should venture that faraway as well.
It's a 'new' hotel we're checking into this time round. The one we usually stay in has run out of rooms for us. It's a good thing actually - the usual one kinda sucks. The one we're staying in seems new and has a comtemporary setting. I hope the bathroom and bed are cool. Oh, and I hope comtemporary hotels offer free internet services. Hiak.
I may just check out the malls downtown. See if I could do a little shopping here. There should be good enough sale-items going around here. If I'm energetic enough to ransack the racks.
I've also got to get some work done in the room later, and send it out to my mates back in Singapore. Bugger. Don't think I'll get to sleep well at all tonight.
None of my friends at home is online now. Yeah, it's going to be Monday at work in 5 hours, and so they should all probably be fast asleep. To my friend who's starting his new job today, good luck. =)
I see the man online though, but he's not answering me. I think he's busy with his game. Either that, or I think he's just fallen asleep with the computer turned on.
I'd better run. My friend D has just messaged to say she's coming by to pick me up to the mall. Good girl.
Erm... confession: since you weren't around, I 'stole' your yen and your Nike watch that you've since chucked aside. =P
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Narita
I have done nothing else but slept for the past eight hours.
The selection of movies was not exactly enticing enough to keep me awake, and all of passengers, I had to be the 'lucky' one to get two seats to myself.
Can't even really recall what food they fed me this time, though the menu seemed to have changed - finally, after all these donkey years of flying NW.
I am about 25 minutes away from take-off. I should be going.
The last trip in May, I was so stuck here at the lounge I actually single-handedly delayed the connecting flight.
Haha.
But the stupid keyboard on this laptop is not helping me. There are Japanese characters, but it's ok because there are still the English alphabets. But what is pissing me off is that the symbols are all jumbled over the keyboard.
I can't find my apostrophes and dashes. Damn.
Ok, really gotta run.
See ya in Portland.
The selection of movies was not exactly enticing enough to keep me awake, and all of passengers, I had to be the 'lucky' one to get two seats to myself.
Can't even really recall what food they fed me this time, though the menu seemed to have changed - finally, after all these donkey years of flying NW.
I am about 25 minutes away from take-off. I should be going.
The last trip in May, I was so stuck here at the lounge I actually single-handedly delayed the connecting flight.
Haha.
But the stupid keyboard on this laptop is not helping me. There are Japanese characters, but it's ok because there are still the English alphabets. But what is pissing me off is that the symbols are all jumbled over the keyboard.
I can't find my apostrophes and dashes. Damn.
Ok, really gotta run.
See ya in Portland.
Smart Aleck
I feel so stupid.
Smart-ass. 'Jia li hai'. 'Gei kiang'.
Yes, it turns out I already have not one, but TWO USB-mini-USB cables lying at home.
I never noticed and never realized I ever possessed them. In fact, upon closer inspection, I suspect that one of the existing cables could have been one of two standard chargers that came with the phone when I bought it.
Omg. So DUH.
By the way, I bought the short white-colored cable in the middle today. At least there was one other wiser option than a 3-meter-long cable.
And by the way, I don't really feel very proud of myself now.
Bleah.
This isn't a pornographic site, nor a diary of a pedophile.
But how often would you ever see a baby with... er... deep cleavage?
This is one-month-old Kaelyn. Very... er... blessedly well-endowed.
Mommy herself was very amused, and in fact, she was the one who noticed it and proudly joked about it to all the aunties.
Hmm... I can only say dear little Kaelyn did inherit some assets from her momma.
My little secret nephew did come by today.
I sat them on my half-packed luggage, held my camera and said, "Ok - smile!"
It seemed like only Piper responded.
Ok, we've got to get the kiddo to love the camera more.
The kiddo reminds me of me.
Of course I cannot remember me when I was two, but from the stories I've heard from my mom and aunties over and over again, I wasn't exactly the most demure and good little girl around. If my brother was the quiet and shy one, I was the naughtier and restless one. I could never sit still, nor stand still. Once let out of sight, I would wander away. I've broken countless vases and glass ornaments in department stores (I still remember - Yaohan). I touched everything, wandered everywhere, and was just curious about anything.
Well, my mom tells me I learnt how to walk at 7 months - I was born to be a wanderer, I suppose.
Little Ciaran is just like that. He is easily distracted, and he shows interest in almost everything around him. Things that interest him, he would stretch his hand out and grab them. His eyes give him away.
I couldn't possibly tell my brother his kid is just like me, so I just said, "Your boy is not like you." Heh heh.
I brought the kiddo along to the supermarket to do my last-minute shopping. My brother insisted on chaperoning - "You have no experience lah." WTF?
Anyhow, for most part of the walking journey, I held his hand and carried him. He let me.
Well, he basically lets everyone carry him. Easy-going chap.
Ok, now at least Gu-Gu know the sizes to get for the little man.
I can't believe I took so long to pack. I was just so distracted by the pbook.
And I kept forgetting about stuff left in the car that I needed to bring on this trip. In all, I took three separate trips down to the carpark. It's not the walking I minded. It's the changing in and out of my clothes everytime.
Why can't women be like men - go downstair in worn-out t-shirt and boxers and without a bra?
Things are all packed. There'll be some stuff that I'll offload in Portland, so that should leave some additional, though not quite much, space in my luggage for new stuff.
I'm already planning outlet-mall shopping on the day that we arrive. To stave off jet-lag, one should try to stay awake in the day and get into the 'normal' sleeping cycle right from the first day - even if you arrive like 8 in the morning.
So, driving out to the outlets should be a good way to keep us busy.
Only have about 2 hours before the taxi arrives to pick me up.
I should get some snooze already. I fail again.
The man is right up in the sky somewhere over the Indian Ocean.
He will be landing at T2 sometime about half past 5. And I will be taking off from T1 half an hour later at 6.
At least, at some point in time later, we'll be passing by each other, though separated by a vast amount of space.
So close, yet so far.
Sleep tight. And good luck.
You know how I feel about you.
Smart-ass. 'Jia li hai'. 'Gei kiang'.
Yes, it turns out I already have not one, but TWO USB-mini-USB cables lying at home.
I never noticed and never realized I ever possessed them. In fact, upon closer inspection, I suspect that one of the existing cables could have been one of two standard chargers that came with the phone when I bought it.
Omg. So DUH.
By the way, I bought the short white-colored cable in the middle today. At least there was one other wiser option than a 3-meter-long cable.
And by the way, I don't really feel very proud of myself now.
Bleah.
This isn't a pornographic site, nor a diary of a pedophile.
But how often would you ever see a baby with... er... deep cleavage?
This is one-month-old Kaelyn. Very... er... blessedly well-endowed.
Mommy herself was very amused, and in fact, she was the one who noticed it and proudly joked about it to all the aunties.
Hmm... I can only say dear little Kaelyn did inherit some assets from her momma.
My little secret nephew did come by today.
I sat them on my half-packed luggage, held my camera and said, "Ok - smile!"
It seemed like only Piper responded.
Ok, we've got to get the kiddo to love the camera more.
The kiddo reminds me of me.
Of course I cannot remember me when I was two, but from the stories I've heard from my mom and aunties over and over again, I wasn't exactly the most demure and good little girl around. If my brother was the quiet and shy one, I was the naughtier and restless one. I could never sit still, nor stand still. Once let out of sight, I would wander away. I've broken countless vases and glass ornaments in department stores (I still remember - Yaohan). I touched everything, wandered everywhere, and was just curious about anything.
Well, my mom tells me I learnt how to walk at 7 months - I was born to be a wanderer, I suppose.
Little Ciaran is just like that. He is easily distracted, and he shows interest in almost everything around him. Things that interest him, he would stretch his hand out and grab them. His eyes give him away.
I couldn't possibly tell my brother his kid is just like me, so I just said, "Your boy is not like you." Heh heh.
I brought the kiddo along to the supermarket to do my last-minute shopping. My brother insisted on chaperoning - "You have no experience lah." WTF?
Anyhow, for most part of the walking journey, I held his hand and carried him. He let me.
Well, he basically lets everyone carry him. Easy-going chap.
Ok, now at least Gu-Gu know the sizes to get for the little man.
I can't believe I took so long to pack. I was just so distracted by the pbook.
And I kept forgetting about stuff left in the car that I needed to bring on this trip. In all, I took three separate trips down to the carpark. It's not the walking I minded. It's the changing in and out of my clothes everytime.
Why can't women be like men - go downstair in worn-out t-shirt and boxers and without a bra?
Things are all packed. There'll be some stuff that I'll offload in Portland, so that should leave some additional, though not quite much, space in my luggage for new stuff.
I'm already planning outlet-mall shopping on the day that we arrive. To stave off jet-lag, one should try to stay awake in the day and get into the 'normal' sleeping cycle right from the first day - even if you arrive like 8 in the morning.
So, driving out to the outlets should be a good way to keep us busy.
Only have about 2 hours before the taxi arrives to pick me up.
I should get some snooze already. I fail again.
The man is right up in the sky somewhere over the Indian Ocean.
He will be landing at T2 sometime about half past 5. And I will be taking off from T1 half an hour later at 6.
At least, at some point in time later, we'll be passing by each other, though separated by a vast amount of space.
So close, yet so far.
Sleep tight. And good luck.
You know how I feel about you.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Char Bor Buys Real Stuff At Challenger
I am excited, therefore I write now.
Just spent almost an hour in Challenger, flitting from wall to wall, looking at nothing but cables and chargers.
Almost thought I couldn't find the charger for my cell - maybe the phone model was too new. I was starting to feel this total sense of dejection and frustration when I realized my cell had a mini USB port instead, not the usual kind of mobile-charging port.
Ah! Didn't know my phone is so 'advanced'. I suddenly felt so 'proud' at discovering that.
Found and selected the cheapest and shortest USB-to-mini-USB cable I could find. Why the hell would I need to carry a 3-meter long cable in my luggage?!
Then decided maybe I should try and see if there're also USB chargers for my Palm and my digicam. If there are, then I wouldn't have to lug those heavy original chargers.
So that's how I ended up spending such a long time alone in a computer hardware store.
I found the charger for the Palm but not the G2. Damn. And the digicam charger is the big, bulky, heavy one.
Great, now I have to lug the chargers/adapters for my Thinkpad, my pbook and my G2, plus all the little cables I just bought. I think they easily add like ten pounds to my luggage weight.
Shopping alone at a hardware store, and actually emerging with some 'real' stuff, you suddenly get this immense feeling of pride.
I know, it's a 'char bor' thing. Buy a bit of computer things only, feel so proud of myself. Feel so 'man' - like I don't really need a man in my life to figure out techie solutions.
But hey, it's a smart way to lighten your load, ok. However little weight you manage to save.
Ok, so I've got two things on my to-do-today list down.
Don't have much time left, and the tasks left are the 'heavier' ones. Still, I can't stop my backside itchiness and had to plonk myself down at Coffee Bean.
Hey, at least, I haven't hung out at this outlet before. And I need to 'hao lian' about my buys.
Now, come to think of it, I sound so silly.
For the first time, after having travelled for long distances many times before, I suddenly felt like having dinner at home the night before I leave.
I sent a message to my brother, and asked him to come home for dinner tonight.
I hope he brings his kiddo.
Actually, I just feel like seeing the kiddo before I leave.
Don't want to buy wrong sizes, and I need to check out his 'style' first.
Haha.
Oh, and of course, I need to pack. So dinner at home will be a wise choice.
Just spent almost an hour in Challenger, flitting from wall to wall, looking at nothing but cables and chargers.
Almost thought I couldn't find the charger for my cell - maybe the phone model was too new. I was starting to feel this total sense of dejection and frustration when I realized my cell had a mini USB port instead, not the usual kind of mobile-charging port.
Ah! Didn't know my phone is so 'advanced'. I suddenly felt so 'proud' at discovering that.
Found and selected the cheapest and shortest USB-to-mini-USB cable I could find. Why the hell would I need to carry a 3-meter long cable in my luggage?!
Then decided maybe I should try and see if there're also USB chargers for my Palm and my digicam. If there are, then I wouldn't have to lug those heavy original chargers.
So that's how I ended up spending such a long time alone in a computer hardware store.
I found the charger for the Palm but not the G2. Damn. And the digicam charger is the big, bulky, heavy one.
Great, now I have to lug the chargers/adapters for my Thinkpad, my pbook and my G2, plus all the little cables I just bought. I think they easily add like ten pounds to my luggage weight.
Shopping alone at a hardware store, and actually emerging with some 'real' stuff, you suddenly get this immense feeling of pride.
I know, it's a 'char bor' thing. Buy a bit of computer things only, feel so proud of myself. Feel so 'man' - like I don't really need a man in my life to figure out techie solutions.
But hey, it's a smart way to lighten your load, ok. However little weight you manage to save.
Ok, so I've got two things on my to-do-today list down.
Don't have much time left, and the tasks left are the 'heavier' ones. Still, I can't stop my backside itchiness and had to plonk myself down at Coffee Bean.
Hey, at least, I haven't hung out at this outlet before. And I need to 'hao lian' about my buys.
Now, come to think of it, I sound so silly.
For the first time, after having travelled for long distances many times before, I suddenly felt like having dinner at home the night before I leave.
I sent a message to my brother, and asked him to come home for dinner tonight.
I hope he brings his kiddo.
Actually, I just feel like seeing the kiddo before I leave.
Don't want to buy wrong sizes, and I need to check out his 'style' first.
Haha.
Oh, and of course, I need to pack. So dinner at home will be a wise choice.
Before I Zzz...
Just one last yak, so I can sleep soundly tonight.
I don't want no war, and I don't want no fight.
Whoever the other party may be.
I just need my answers and I just want to know yours as well.
I only want to talk, if it doesn't bother you.
And eventually, I really want only to find my love and my peace of mind.
It doesn't sound much, but to some, it is indeed a lot to ask for.
I don't want no war, and I don't want no fight.
Whoever the other party may be.
I just need my answers and I just want to know yours as well.
I only want to talk, if it doesn't bother you.
And eventually, I really want only to find my love and my peace of mind.
It doesn't sound much, but to some, it is indeed a lot to ask for.
Luff Note
I am in a wondrous mood to write and write and write tonight.
I am feeling exhilarated right now because it has been raining ouside since the time I left the cafe a few hours ago.
It has been a real long while since I've been able to snuggle under my covers as I go to sleep, without even turning the fan on. I remember how freakin' hot it was just a couple of weeks ago in the nights - it actually made me lose precious sleep. It helps in rainy nights like this that I got the best room in the house - we live one storey down from the corridor-storey and my room is thankfully sheltered by the corridor above. My old windows were so underused the hinges rusted till we couldn't really close them when we needed to.
So, tonight, I am going to slip under my duvet as I tuck myself into bed, and feel the cold wind, listen to the pitter-patter and smell the fresh rain outside as I rest my eyes.
I was also feeling exhilarated just about 19 hours ago - just before the man was due to report for work.
I received a message on my cell - I saw his name, looked at time, and wondered, "Oh dear, did the man forget something important?"
Yeah, he almost did. He almost forgot to tell me he loved me.
So he sent it in a message just before he flew off, and sent his blessings for my trip.
At least there was a sweet goodbye. It makes my long trip look less daunting.
I haven't heard those two words from him for a long time. They have been so free-and-easy-flowing in our years together, most of the time they probably have been sent and received with less significance than they should.
Today, the words sent this tingling sensation down my inner soul that I haven't felt for a while.
Peace. Happiness. No matter how short-term.
The confusion state of my mind set in only a while after I happily sent back an immediate message.
I read the message over and over again to make sure I didn't just read what my mind had wanted to see.
I'm a little wiser today - I don't want to think about it too much.
Faith = No Doubt. Yes? No?
If I still have faith that I want to believe in, I should not doubt the obvious, should I?
God, please tell me this sign is obvious enough not to ignore.
Are You shining some light ahead for me? Have You posted a roadsign at my crossroad?
Remember, just no pranks.
Many moons ago, I came across this question posed somewhere: can two persons love each other, but not live with each other? No, it doesn't talk about cohabitation nor physically living together under the same roof. Instead it talks about two persons loving each other deeply but finding that they just cannot be together, that they just cannot accept each other into their respective lives.
Well, many moons ago, my answer was a clear-cut 'no way'. If you love someone, you accept that someone exactly the way he is. If you cannot live with someone, how can you claim you love him? How is there even love in the first place?
Today, under the disappearing moon, I have no answer to that same question. I think.
I always hate it when the world seems to tell the values I hold on to strongly have been wrong.
Did I fark myself up? Or is the world screwing me upside down?
I am looking forward to the trip. Not to the meetings, but to Vancouver.
"It is beautiful." There you go - I heard it again.
But I still have tons to do tomorrow. I only have exactly 24 hours left before the taxi comes for me tomorrow morning.
I have to complete some work and send them out over email. I sure hope I don't have to go into the office.
I have to meet my insurance agent to collect my travel insurance policy. I've learnt wiser this time.
I have to pay my bills. Else, my parents have no cable shows to watch while I'm gone for two good weeks.
I have to buy my USB phone-charger that allows me to charge my cell from my laptop - a great invention I'm thankful for. It saves me so much trouble in allocating 'charging time' amongst all my gadgets with just two adapters.
I have to check if I run out of any toiletry item so I don't have to panic at the last minute. I always do.
I have to attend a baby shower in the afternoon. I love baby showers, but it's more likely going to be a gathering for us girlfriends.
And I have to pack. Fark, I hate this. I always pack till the very last minute.
I need to make sure, for once, I get some rest before my flight tomorrow. I intend to save my headache by wearing my contact lenses during the flights.
I am feeling exhilarated right now because it has been raining ouside since the time I left the cafe a few hours ago.
It has been a real long while since I've been able to snuggle under my covers as I go to sleep, without even turning the fan on. I remember how freakin' hot it was just a couple of weeks ago in the nights - it actually made me lose precious sleep. It helps in rainy nights like this that I got the best room in the house - we live one storey down from the corridor-storey and my room is thankfully sheltered by the corridor above. My old windows were so underused the hinges rusted till we couldn't really close them when we needed to.
So, tonight, I am going to slip under my duvet as I tuck myself into bed, and feel the cold wind, listen to the pitter-patter and smell the fresh rain outside as I rest my eyes.
I was also feeling exhilarated just about 19 hours ago - just before the man was due to report for work.
I received a message on my cell - I saw his name, looked at time, and wondered, "Oh dear, did the man forget something important?"
Yeah, he almost did. He almost forgot to tell me he loved me.
So he sent it in a message just before he flew off, and sent his blessings for my trip.
At least there was a sweet goodbye. It makes my long trip look less daunting.
I haven't heard those two words from him for a long time. They have been so free-and-easy-flowing in our years together, most of the time they probably have been sent and received with less significance than they should.
Today, the words sent this tingling sensation down my inner soul that I haven't felt for a while.
Peace. Happiness. No matter how short-term.
The confusion state of my mind set in only a while after I happily sent back an immediate message.
I read the message over and over again to make sure I didn't just read what my mind had wanted to see.
I'm a little wiser today - I don't want to think about it too much.
Faith = No Doubt. Yes? No?
If I still have faith that I want to believe in, I should not doubt the obvious, should I?
God, please tell me this sign is obvious enough not to ignore.
Are You shining some light ahead for me? Have You posted a roadsign at my crossroad?
Remember, just no pranks.
Many moons ago, I came across this question posed somewhere: can two persons love each other, but not live with each other? No, it doesn't talk about cohabitation nor physically living together under the same roof. Instead it talks about two persons loving each other deeply but finding that they just cannot be together, that they just cannot accept each other into their respective lives.
Well, many moons ago, my answer was a clear-cut 'no way'. If you love someone, you accept that someone exactly the way he is. If you cannot live with someone, how can you claim you love him? How is there even love in the first place?
Today, under the disappearing moon, I have no answer to that same question. I think.
I always hate it when the world seems to tell the values I hold on to strongly have been wrong.
Did I fark myself up? Or is the world screwing me upside down?
I am looking forward to the trip. Not to the meetings, but to Vancouver.
"It is beautiful." There you go - I heard it again.
But I still have tons to do tomorrow. I only have exactly 24 hours left before the taxi comes for me tomorrow morning.
I have to complete some work and send them out over email. I sure hope I don't have to go into the office.
I have to meet my insurance agent to collect my travel insurance policy. I've learnt wiser this time.
I have to pay my bills. Else, my parents have no cable shows to watch while I'm gone for two good weeks.
I have to buy my USB phone-charger that allows me to charge my cell from my laptop - a great invention I'm thankful for. It saves me so much trouble in allocating 'charging time' amongst all my gadgets with just two adapters.
I have to check if I run out of any toiletry item so I don't have to panic at the last minute. I always do.
I have to attend a baby shower in the afternoon. I love baby showers, but it's more likely going to be a gathering for us girlfriends.
And I have to pack. Fark, I hate this. I always pack till the very last minute.
I need to make sure, for once, I get some rest before my flight tomorrow. I intend to save my headache by wearing my contact lenses during the flights.
My Man's Buddy Gal
Eh fren!
I finally 'stumbled' upon your blog. All thanks to your hubby.
I enjoy reading your stuff, because to a large extent, we probably are too alike in various senses - especially in the 'womanly' sense, in case your hubby begs to differ. Then again, I suspect I have multiple personalities - some probably more dominant most of the time than others.
You give me assurance I'm not alone in this, and I'm definitely not weird. I'm just normal. I'm just woman.
A couple of points, though:
- Where's my hug?
- I didn't mean to offend you at the dinner. Heh heh. Apologies. In fact, I was looking to sit right next to you, and hoping we might get to talk. Honestly, you scared me too. So, I thought I should shut up and shut out. I was probably still in a down mood then. And most likely, I hadn't, and still haven't, gotten over the 'talking-to-people-face-to-face' fright. I might end up crying and I had quite some thick mascara on that night. Wouldn't have been nice to scare the groom, would it?
- You are right: we just somehow don't seem to be able to click. I think we tried, though not apparently hard enough. The stranger thing is we seem to think alike, yet we can't speak alike. Another one unfathomable. I am not forthcoming to people; maybe you are the same. I am actually pretty much shy, especially to people I like; maybe you are too. I am not quite aloof, but I'm really just wary of being myself in front of others I'm not familiar with. I read people first before I decide how much of myself I would show to them. Perhaps you do the same too. Just my theory. One thing for sure, I think I make a good online friend. I have 'testimonials' to show. Ha. Shy la.
Well, hopefully, we'll have many more chances to try hooking up again. Hopefully.
For one, I've dropped not-so-subtle hints to your hubby to invite me over for dinner. Did he tell you?
You two are great together. I can tell.
They say, "Wah, the two of them so fast ah?"
I say, "Time is not a factor when you get married; love is. Real true love."
You have a good man. And a good cat.
I wish your man's buddy would listen to me, the way your man patiently did.
Thank you both, for the friendship and concern.
I pray you two stay blissful for the rest of your life together. I wanna see you two shake leg at Ya Kun half a century later.
Love,
Your fellow 'Man's Buddy's Gal'
I finally 'stumbled' upon your blog. All thanks to your hubby.
I enjoy reading your stuff, because to a large extent, we probably are too alike in various senses - especially in the 'womanly' sense, in case your hubby begs to differ. Then again, I suspect I have multiple personalities - some probably more dominant most of the time than others.
You give me assurance I'm not alone in this, and I'm definitely not weird. I'm just normal. I'm just woman.
A couple of points, though:
- Where's my hug?
- I didn't mean to offend you at the dinner. Heh heh. Apologies. In fact, I was looking to sit right next to you, and hoping we might get to talk. Honestly, you scared me too. So, I thought I should shut up and shut out. I was probably still in a down mood then. And most likely, I hadn't, and still haven't, gotten over the 'talking-to-people-face-to-face' fright. I might end up crying and I had quite some thick mascara on that night. Wouldn't have been nice to scare the groom, would it?
- You are right: we just somehow don't seem to be able to click. I think we tried, though not apparently hard enough. The stranger thing is we seem to think alike, yet we can't speak alike. Another one unfathomable. I am not forthcoming to people; maybe you are the same. I am actually pretty much shy, especially to people I like; maybe you are too. I am not quite aloof, but I'm really just wary of being myself in front of others I'm not familiar with. I read people first before I decide how much of myself I would show to them. Perhaps you do the same too. Just my theory. One thing for sure, I think I make a good online friend. I have 'testimonials' to show. Ha. Shy la.
Well, hopefully, we'll have many more chances to try hooking up again. Hopefully.
For one, I've dropped not-so-subtle hints to your hubby to invite me over for dinner. Did he tell you?
You two are great together. I can tell.
They say, "Wah, the two of them so fast ah?"
I say, "Time is not a factor when you get married; love is. Real true love."
You have a good man. And a good cat.
I wish your man's buddy would listen to me, the way your man patiently did.
Thank you both, for the friendship and concern.
I pray you two stay blissful for the rest of your life together. I wanna see you two shake leg at Ya Kun half a century later.
Love,
Your fellow 'Man's Buddy's Gal'
Friday, July 15, 2005
Long-winded
In recent strange twists of my life that I'd rather not have, I have been learning new things almost every other day.
Things that either agitate my thoughts in sudden bemusement, or make me lose all tracks of thoughts in total bewilderment.
Either way, it messes me up inside. My fingers are furiously pounding away on my work machine with a deadline to catch, but my mind is racing somewhere else - totally out of the world I am in.
You know what I mean?
I am amazed, and disgusted at the same time, at how I manage to get work done in total non-concentration.
Either my mind is trained pretty well, or that's how 'routine' my (old) job has become.
That's why I need a new job - whether in or out of my current workplace. A new job that will hopefully keep my mind where it's supposed to be during work-hours.
Something in particular has been troubling me. Or more so, it puzzles me incessantly.
I am trying to formulate answers of my own every single day, but nothing seems to pacify me. Or more likely, the possible answers I can come up with unsettle me.
What I cannot apprehend, for the life of me, is why it seems as hard for you to let go as it has been for me.
You - yes, you.
Don't misunderstand my intentions - I have absolutely no right to ask of you for anything.
I have too much, just way way too much, to let go of - my love, my heart, my memories, my hopes, my dreams, the life we've built over the past few years, and most of all, my still-undying faith in everything.
Anyone will know what I'm talking about - only few will really understand, but others will think self-pity is at play.
But Fatmama is no drama-mama.
Letting go, to me, is just as good as telling myself to fuck off from this place and find a new heart and soul to rebuild my life.
Letting go can surely be done, I suppose, but it is definitely not as easy as 'just accepting'. Though I really wish it were. I really wish I had never allowed myself to fall into this stage where I am now. Too given to take myself back.
Words can be sluts - easily given and easily taken. But can one's heart be? I hope not.
So, I just don't understand why things are not easy for you as well.
Unless - unless the same happened to you, that happened to me six years ago.
That is the only plausible answer floating around in my head that seems to satisfy the question, but not my mind.
My 'intrusion' in the man's life wasn't all that glorious.
There was someone else. Before me. Just before me.
But it takes two hands to clap, and it takes two hearts to connect.
The emotional connection was certainly felt, the chemistry was sizzling hot, the sincerity was unmistakenly obvious. The laughters were there, and so were the touching moments. Only that the timing was probably bad - very bad.
I knew it was wrong, but I certainly didn't feel wrong. How could I have felt wrong, when you seemed to show me everything was right?
If you were in love with her then, I wouldn't have felt the reciprocated feelings from you, the butterflies in the stomach, the tingling sensations where you touched.
I didn't give up because I truly thought you were on the same page as I, and most of all, I knew what I felt wasn't anything I'd ever felt before with any other man.
'Special' sounds cliche - but it was definitely out of this world.
Reminiscing about it now curls my mouth into a slight smile.
Six years down the road, when I think about us, I think if we have made it through this long, it mustn't have been wrong in the first place six years ago.
But right here at the crossroad now, I can only think if things seemed they meant to be, then what the hell went wrong along the way?
So, unless the same happened to you. Unless you were made to feel the same way as I did six years ago.
For the hell of me, I cannot understand why.
I can only remind myself of one of my favorite phrases: what goes around usually comes around.
Maybe this is truly retribution.
The two agonizing words 'letting go' have been in my constant verbal vocabulary these days.
When Ed refers to the ex-boss as 'Boss', I tell him, "Ed, LET GO." And he laughs.
When ex-Boss talks to me about "our business", I tell him, "J, LET GO." And he laughs.
The two men probably would never know the significance of those two words I've been launching on them.
The drama serial that the man and I have been uncharacteristically hooked to at nights for the past couple of weeks is telling a side-story that eerily depicts ours.
Man and Woman have been in love for ten years, and remain committed but unmarried - a pact they both agreed to wholeheartedly for years. Man is super-duper career-minded and sees the 'union' absolutely fine the way it is. He often neglects Woman's feelings because of work commitments but doesn't realize it. He goes home, picks her up for dinners, and doesn't honestly recognize her needs. Sounds familar?
Woman feels she's getting old, partially because her modelling-life is coming to an end. She no longer feels motivated by work, and wants to settle down. Woman has been very understanding of her man's work, and ,save for some occasional sullenness, has never whined about his cancelling of dates because of an 'urgent meeting'.
Because her work life no longer satisfies her, Woman starts to look more toward her long-time relationship for more comfort and satisfaction. And because her 'age' is the demise of her modelling life, she feels threatened by a young apprentice of Man - a bubbly, totally harmless girl much younger than herself, who harbors a crush on Man, her 'master'. And because Woman is a woman, she can feel there is something more from the apprentice than just an admiration for her master.
And worse of all, Woman feels Man has an 'extraordinary' amount of care and concern for this apprentice of his.
Most of all, Woman feels Man no longer loves her like a man should love his woman. He says he loves her, but Woman feels he doesn't understand love anymore. She doesn't feel loved, though she is told so.
Woman mentions her desire to settle down. Man resists initially, insisting he finds the current status totally acceptable. But Man relents, perhaps out of love for his Woman. (Good thing this man has some real sense.) He buys a huge diamond ring and proposes. Woman is exceedingly happy.
But Woman realizes Man is not really keen and sincere about marriage because he has not shown that he spares any thought for it. He leaves in the middle of a pre-marriage counselling session, he doesn't make time to plan for the wedding, he promises to go on a long-awaited vacation with her but pulls out. Man is there, but never really there.
Woman realizes Man no longer puts their relationship as a top priority anymore. Woman feels Man is agreeing to marriage out of respect for her wishes. Maybe that's the only 'natural' thing to do since he doesn't find any reason to end the good relationship anyway. (Ok, so maybe this Man doesn't have real sense after all.)
This sounds so farking familiar to me by now.
Woman finally tells Man she wants to break up, and returns him the big fat diamond ring. Then she zips off to an island for a break - to get over it. (Ok, what she does subsequently is quite disappointing, but it's already out of the point.)
Just like that.
Just like that, after ten farking years? That's the only thing I could think throughout.
Such things only happen in movies and drama serials. Just like that.
I am not sure if the man sees the same thing I do in that story, but I suppose if he does, he must've felt equally uncomfortable, like me.
(By the way, the Man in the serial is feeling super terrible, as of the last episode I watched last night. He has lost all mood for work, and has been trying desparately to make things up. And I think, does this also only happen in movies and drama serials?)
I am not sure if drama serials are supposed to be educational, or to depict fables to teach one moral stories of real life.
I sure hope not, because I have never believed them to be so.
Drama serials are sometimes quite dumb, and almost always just entertaining.
The timeliness of this particular serial freaks me out, though.
I hope now I won't be sued for the 'copyrights to the content of the show'.
Things that either agitate my thoughts in sudden bemusement, or make me lose all tracks of thoughts in total bewilderment.
Either way, it messes me up inside. My fingers are furiously pounding away on my work machine with a deadline to catch, but my mind is racing somewhere else - totally out of the world I am in.
You know what I mean?
I am amazed, and disgusted at the same time, at how I manage to get work done in total non-concentration.
Either my mind is trained pretty well, or that's how 'routine' my (old) job has become.
That's why I need a new job - whether in or out of my current workplace. A new job that will hopefully keep my mind where it's supposed to be during work-hours.
Something in particular has been troubling me. Or more so, it puzzles me incessantly.
I am trying to formulate answers of my own every single day, but nothing seems to pacify me. Or more likely, the possible answers I can come up with unsettle me.
What I cannot apprehend, for the life of me, is why it seems as hard for you to let go as it has been for me.
You - yes, you.
Don't misunderstand my intentions - I have absolutely no right to ask of you for anything.
I have too much, just way way too much, to let go of - my love, my heart, my memories, my hopes, my dreams, the life we've built over the past few years, and most of all, my still-undying faith in everything.
Anyone will know what I'm talking about - only few will really understand, but others will think self-pity is at play.
But Fatmama is no drama-mama.
Letting go, to me, is just as good as telling myself to fuck off from this place and find a new heart and soul to rebuild my life.
Letting go can surely be done, I suppose, but it is definitely not as easy as 'just accepting'. Though I really wish it were. I really wish I had never allowed myself to fall into this stage where I am now. Too given to take myself back.
Words can be sluts - easily given and easily taken. But can one's heart be? I hope not.
So, I just don't understand why things are not easy for you as well.
Unless - unless the same happened to you, that happened to me six years ago.
That is the only plausible answer floating around in my head that seems to satisfy the question, but not my mind.
My 'intrusion' in the man's life wasn't all that glorious.
There was someone else. Before me. Just before me.
But it takes two hands to clap, and it takes two hearts to connect.
The emotional connection was certainly felt, the chemistry was sizzling hot, the sincerity was unmistakenly obvious. The laughters were there, and so were the touching moments. Only that the timing was probably bad - very bad.
I knew it was wrong, but I certainly didn't feel wrong. How could I have felt wrong, when you seemed to show me everything was right?
If you were in love with her then, I wouldn't have felt the reciprocated feelings from you, the butterflies in the stomach, the tingling sensations where you touched.
I didn't give up because I truly thought you were on the same page as I, and most of all, I knew what I felt wasn't anything I'd ever felt before with any other man.
'Special' sounds cliche - but it was definitely out of this world.
Reminiscing about it now curls my mouth into a slight smile.
Six years down the road, when I think about us, I think if we have made it through this long, it mustn't have been wrong in the first place six years ago.
But right here at the crossroad now, I can only think if things seemed they meant to be, then what the hell went wrong along the way?
So, unless the same happened to you. Unless you were made to feel the same way as I did six years ago.
For the hell of me, I cannot understand why.
I can only remind myself of one of my favorite phrases: what goes around usually comes around.
Maybe this is truly retribution.
The two agonizing words 'letting go' have been in my constant verbal vocabulary these days.
When Ed refers to the ex-boss as 'Boss', I tell him, "Ed, LET GO." And he laughs.
When ex-Boss talks to me about "our business", I tell him, "J, LET GO." And he laughs.
The two men probably would never know the significance of those two words I've been launching on them.
The drama serial that the man and I have been uncharacteristically hooked to at nights for the past couple of weeks is telling a side-story that eerily depicts ours.
Man and Woman have been in love for ten years, and remain committed but unmarried - a pact they both agreed to wholeheartedly for years. Man is super-duper career-minded and sees the 'union' absolutely fine the way it is. He often neglects Woman's feelings because of work commitments but doesn't realize it. He goes home, picks her up for dinners, and doesn't honestly recognize her needs. Sounds familar?
Woman feels she's getting old, partially because her modelling-life is coming to an end. She no longer feels motivated by work, and wants to settle down. Woman has been very understanding of her man's work, and ,save for some occasional sullenness, has never whined about his cancelling of dates because of an 'urgent meeting'.
Because her work life no longer satisfies her, Woman starts to look more toward her long-time relationship for more comfort and satisfaction. And because her 'age' is the demise of her modelling life, she feels threatened by a young apprentice of Man - a bubbly, totally harmless girl much younger than herself, who harbors a crush on Man, her 'master'. And because Woman is a woman, she can feel there is something more from the apprentice than just an admiration for her master.
And worse of all, Woman feels Man has an 'extraordinary' amount of care and concern for this apprentice of his.
Most of all, Woman feels Man no longer loves her like a man should love his woman. He says he loves her, but Woman feels he doesn't understand love anymore. She doesn't feel loved, though she is told so.
Woman mentions her desire to settle down. Man resists initially, insisting he finds the current status totally acceptable. But Man relents, perhaps out of love for his Woman. (Good thing this man has some real sense.) He buys a huge diamond ring and proposes. Woman is exceedingly happy.
But Woman realizes Man is not really keen and sincere about marriage because he has not shown that he spares any thought for it. He leaves in the middle of a pre-marriage counselling session, he doesn't make time to plan for the wedding, he promises to go on a long-awaited vacation with her but pulls out. Man is there, but never really there.
Woman realizes Man no longer puts their relationship as a top priority anymore. Woman feels Man is agreeing to marriage out of respect for her wishes. Maybe that's the only 'natural' thing to do since he doesn't find any reason to end the good relationship anyway. (Ok, so maybe this Man doesn't have real sense after all.)
This sounds so farking familiar to me by now.
Woman finally tells Man she wants to break up, and returns him the big fat diamond ring. Then she zips off to an island for a break - to get over it. (Ok, what she does subsequently is quite disappointing, but it's already out of the point.)
Just like that.
Just like that, after ten farking years? That's the only thing I could think throughout.
Such things only happen in movies and drama serials. Just like that.
I am not sure if the man sees the same thing I do in that story, but I suppose if he does, he must've felt equally uncomfortable, like me.
(By the way, the Man in the serial is feeling super terrible, as of the last episode I watched last night. He has lost all mood for work, and has been trying desparately to make things up. And I think, does this also only happen in movies and drama serials?)
I am not sure if drama serials are supposed to be educational, or to depict fables to teach one moral stories of real life.
I sure hope not, because I have never believed them to be so.
Drama serials are sometimes quite dumb, and almost always just entertaining.
The timeliness of this particular serial freaks me out, though.
I hope now I won't be sued for the 'copyrights to the content of the show'.
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