Appraisal

Okay. So I'm a little fucked now.

I have a deadline in eight hours, I should be doing some major serious thinking tonight. Instead, I had two beers, fell asleep like a baby on the couch, and now I can't think right at four in the morning.

Then again, maybe this is the best time to make a decision. Again.

Fuck jet-lag.


(Ah. This time, I realize one of the best, and first, feelings of home-sweet-home after a dreary long week and an even drearier long flight comes in the hot shower.

Nothing feels as warm as the water that spouts from the shower, nothing feels as familiar as my Johnson's baby bath. The good ol' blue one, no less.

Or maybe, it's just because I've lived a week in a handicapped room, with a handicapped bathroom, where the old-fashioned shower hovers somewhere just around the boob area. I will not be nice again.)


Right. It's just about seven hours left now.

And considering the fact that I am also warm beneath my blanket, listening to J and to the pitter-patter sounds of the rain outside, and that I might just fall prey to the zzz monster anytime again, I think I'd have to make that thirty minutes instead.

(I'm back in love with the zzz monster, because just hours ago, he finally gave me some good ol' shit and not one of them horrid dreams.)


When you come to a point where you have a couple of choices laid out in front of you and you're forced to make a decision, and the choices are no longer as simple as they are presented to you because you find yourself starting to have to think about the other larger implications in your life each choice entails, now that becomes possibly a turning point in your life, no?

It's not a chicken-or-fish decision. It's more like a chicken-now-or-never-again kinda of decision.

And it kinda frustrates me, because I'd wish to have beef instead.


The Libra is done with the pros-and-cons shit, the bane of her life. And life is not a mathematical equation.

There is more certainty than uncertainty about one; there is more uncertainty than certainty about the other.

One makes me feel like I am taking a step back to the comfort zone from which I seemed to be running away; the other makes me feel like I am marking a bigger step forward into a barely begun adventure, of which I really know nothing.

One is do-and-probably-not-die; the other's do-and-maybe-die-or-maybe-bloom.

One entails a micro, practical view of today-versus-tomorrow, which I am already bad at assessing; the other entails a broader, idealistic view of now-versus-future, which I am only good at imagining.

I have perfectly logical reasons for one; I have only the silliest reasons for the other.

I have my mind on one; I have my heart on the other.

Do I want to live to survive? Or, do I want to live to live life?


It is strange that somehow, I get to this crossroad just about days shy of my one-year anniversary.

I remember the uncertainties I battled then, and this seems to me a forced appraisal of sorts.

Right, woman. You sure about this so far? You seem to be facing quite some crap in your life now. You sure? You wanna turn back now? You can, you know...

I remember also, how I got past the uncertainties and convinced myself I deserve some journey of my own for the first, and probably only, time in my life.

I had a plan. A big plan with no details. I think I still have it.

Things have come along my way over the past months. Things I have not quite expected, things that have made me laugh, made me cry. Things that I still can't even figure out. Things that have made an indelible mark in my life.

But they are all part of the plan, I hope. And I have laughed way more than I cried.


"Just follow your heart, Cheng."

Just when I was getting tired looking out for signs around me, this came to me out of the blue, at the unlikeliest of times, while I was almost dozing off in the middle of a ridiculous traffic jam on a Friday night thousands of miles away from home. From the unlikeliest of people, someone whom I've known for a year now but whom I barely know.

Someone who seems to have it all going, and makes that sound oh-so-easy.

Well, the thing is, for people who look for signs, anything could be a sign.

And for someone who looks for signs and always believes that following one's heart is not exactly a stupid thing to do, that was as sure a good sign as it could be.

I live only once. I'll be thirty, or thirty-one, or thirty-two, or whatever, only once.

My heart will stop beating for me one day - and I don't know when.


No one will probably understand. No one ever understood, anyway.

I have my heart somewhere already.

But I fear being left alone.

Then again, when that day comes, maybe things will come to a light.

Somehow, things will just work out.


I wanted an adventure. I still want the adventure. I don't want to live without stories.

Following the heart is a stupid thing to do in the corporate world.

Then again, I never really belonged to the corporate world.


Okay. I can feel the fire now.

I think I'll write that email, six hours' from now.

Die

I really need to know. It’s killing me in real life.


To dream that you die in your dream, symbolizes inner changes, transformation, self-discovery and positive development that is happening within you or in your life. Although such a dream may bring about feelings of fear and anxiety, it is no cause for alarm and is often considered a positive symbol. Dreams of experiencing your own death usually means that big changes are ahead for you. You are moving on to new beginnings and leaving the past behind. These changes do not necessarily imply a negative turn of events. Metaphorically, dying can be seen as an end or a termination to your old ways and habits. So, dying does not always mean a physical death, but an ending of something.

On a negative note, to dream that you die may represent involvement in deeply painful relationships or unhealthy, destructive behaviors. You may feel depressed or feel strangled by a situation or person in your waking life. Perhaps your mind is preoccupied with someone who is terminally ill or dying. Alternatively, you may be trying to get out of some obligation, responsibility or other situation.

Yeah. But it doesn’t mean I have to get crushed by a freakin’ elevator???

Restless

And the horrid dreams follow me thousands of miles across continents, to wonderful sunny Boston.

Well, some horrid ones, but they are actually becoming rather entertaining. With twisted plots, very much akin to the action-thriller movies I’ve always been dying to be in.

Except, I didn’t expect to literally keep dying in my dreams. Getting killed, to be precise. Plotted murders, random shootings, freak accidents, like getting crushed to death by an elevator.

Then, the horrified awakenings.


There are some sweet ones too recently. Things I can literally only dream about.

It pleases me, yet confuses me at the same time.

And still, there would be the awakenings...

Did he really just ask me?

Breather

Thank you! Your reservation is confirmed.


Great.

Finally. Something for me to look forward to. And at least I am getting one of my many plans going.

Just about three weeks to go, and I can't wait. The hair can wait now.


There's something about making decisions like this at three in the morning, when you're already half-dead.

You don't think anymore. : )

The Coconut Juice Dream

The only time I can't, and won't, complain about the sweltering heat is when I'm almost totally naked under the sun.

And I wish I would never ever have to complain about the sweltering heat every single day.

Inhuman

Is it ever humanly possible to sprain your ankle while sleeping?

I think I just did - by sleeping on the couch last night.


And I thought I could never beat myself after that one time I sprained my ankle while standing.

Mommy Poppin'!

Emily’s finally arriving in about another hour’s!

I wish I was back home right now. But I’m still stuck to the stupid desk. And thousand of miles away.


I love you, babe.

You’ll both be fine. : )

AAO

Seriously?

I am shaken.

Evergrowing

I wonder why I would spend so much money on shoes I can't wear to work because I'd rather be dragging my lazy Singers feet in frip-frops anywhere else, any other day.

Still, it is indeed a kick (pun intended) waiting for days for your shoes to delivered by the courier guy. Especially after one of the worst days ever at work.

And of course. Because they are shoes.

Pretty ones, too.

Itch

I think I'm developing an allergy - either to linen fabric, or to new undies.

Damn the aging process!

LS

Good news: I have been cooking every night.

Bad news: I might suffer from malnutrition.

Bad, bad news: I think the water running from my tap is contaminated.


I wonder which one Mom’d like to hear first.

Impaired

And the insomnia strikes back.

It's been weeks. I think I have a disorder.


According to my favorite Wiki, I might have a disorder if I have "persistent difficulty falling asleep, or staying asleep despite the opportunity". And I do have "functional impairment while awake".

What else would explain that fact that I could not even fall asleep after crawling home to bed at the end of a 18-hour work shift? And the subsequent drift into a half-sleep state that kept me awake feeling more spooked than anything? And the other fact that my mind usually starts functioning four hours after the body has risen from bed?

Why else would I still feel so tired on a Monday morning, after staying in the entire weekend?


The bunny's losing it.

Joy

Do you remember the last time you danced in the rain?

Or, if you've even ever danced in the rain?


Go try it.

It's so worth getting your favorite kicks all wet.

Doubt

Am I a fighter? Or a quitter?

A small fry trying to make a happy meal.

But. Isn't that what all passion is about?

Consolation

Hmm.

This is only what I can tell myself now that I don't have my wheels. =/

Trapped

Things my landlord obviously wouldn't have told me...

Like the street outside the apartment building floods up when it rains for a day.


And I am out of soy milk. =/

One and "O"

I am going to start counting the strikes.

I'm going to let this one go.

But three strikes, and I'm out.

Station

Another silly mission completed.

Out of the ten frustrating hours spent at work, every day over the last few weeks, those fifteen minutes during lunchtime today were probably the only moments I actually felt energized working on something.

It was like, the real me finally came to work.


Times when I think I am failing, when I start looking for purpose in my day-to-day living, when I forget who and what I really am, all it takes is just a moment, even if it's just a teeny weeny moment, where I get to be myself and do what I love doing most to remember what I almost gave up.

Who I am. What I am. Why I am here. Where I want to be. The things in life I really love.

The real things in life that give me joy so pure, delirium so wild, that split moment where you spiral out of this world and into another paradise of your own - be it a glistening egg sitting on my bowl of rice, or a smile I saw.

Times like this, does any of that small stuff really matter in this big universe of mine? Won't I look back and laugh at my stupid self when I'm grey and crooked?

I don't wanna be small. I wanna be big. Big as the One who covers my world, I wanna cover too.

That's what I do.


I don't really want to be where I'm supposed to be.

I really want to be where I want to be.


Life's really like the rail system. A really long and convoluted one with too many stops.

You get on at point A and you're supposed to get to point B.

If you get off at the wrong station along the way or you miss the point of interchange, just get back on the bloody rail and read the directions again.

That is, if you still do remember the tracks.

Damm Weak

It's the same battle (almost) every night.

The textbook? Or the movie?
The textbook? Or the movie?
The textbook? Or the movie?
...

And usually, the textbook wins the battle only when the chooser decides she's too tired for the movie.

And then usually, she falls asleep barely five minutes later.


Dammit.

I don't believe I can't do this.