May The Force Be With You

"A long time ago, in a Galaxy far far away..."

I found out that the local Science Centre was having a Star Wars Exhibition / Symposium of sorts.

I went nuts.

So, for the rest of today, James and I are going to indulge the geeky side of us.

And the inevitable fight will then pursue... to suppress my bad personna and be a Jedi Master, doing good and saving the pathetic human race? Or to suppress the good side and be Darth Vadar or Darth Maul, banishing human race to the lowest rungs of lifeforms where they should be?

Decisions... Decisions!

First Day of CNY 2006

As with all cultural norms, a family's tradition is what links remembrance of an occassion. A simple example would be having a cake with candle blowing would link to birthdays.

And so, as I have not slept since yesterday, I was happily trawling around the web when I heard mom get up at 6ish. I heard her pottering in the kitchen and soon enuff, could hear a very faint sizzle. I wondered if she was starting to fry the entire batch of pink rice cakes already.

As I sat here wondering what to do next, I found my attention meandering to the rice cakes she most likely is frying. On the first day of the Chinese Lunar New Year, Mom fries these ordinary pink fluffy, doughy rice cakes in a non-stick pan. It is fried to a crisp on the outside so that the rice within is just warmed, and eaten with a vinegary garlic chilli and sweet black sauce. Giving it more thought as I did since I am still conscious at 9am, this seems to be the one food that seem to symbolize the starting of a brand new year to me. The Ang Baos (money given by relatives) and snacks seem to pale in comparison when it comes to the symbolism, to me.

Hmmm... strange isn't it? Something as simple and innocuous as these ricecakes holding so much meaning for me. I don't even eat them on a regular day but come the first day of chinese new year, I have to have them else it is just not quite the start of a brand new year.

I am sure if I were to one day live alone or with someone, I would panfry these rice cakes on the first day of CNY too. =)

Oh! I hear relatives coming into the house now, gonna climb into bed to try to catch some shut-eye, will wake when relatives have stopped torturing my doggie woggie and are all gone.

Bye for now!

Chinese New Year Eve 2006

This is perhaps one of the more rare occassions of Chinese New Year (CNY) eve that I will be spending home, and actually cleaning. No, I do not live in a pigsty that requires minimal cleaning. I do clean occassionally when I am in the mood.

Today is when I finally stop procrastinating and shift the silver metallic chest of drawers into my room, to match my silver-framed frosted glass-top desk. Reason I have been putting it off is so that I do not have to catch glimpses of things that remind me of things I have no wish to remember at this point in time. All went well, minimal reminders of things I have no wish to see just yet.

I decided I shall move one step up the ladder of recovery and attack on my digicam next. There are pics there of him and I, and common friends. I have left it on my SD card and not loaded it into my PC for the longest time. I guess it is time to throw out the old and make space for the new. I heard / read some brainiac say that if you do not make space within to accommodate the new, nothing new is ever gonna happen.

I hope nothing tragic happens at the end of this exercise. *whimsical quick or lips*

Anyways, here's wishing one and all the very best that the New Year has to offer, and if you are suffering from some setback like I am, take heart dear ones... the time will come when it will pass. Be strong，Be Brave.

新年快乐，万事如意！

Another Sleepless Night's Ramblings

It's the end of the work week and I have finally ended my hectic after-work schedule for now. Now I have 6 glorious days ahead to rest for Chinese New Year. Pity I ain't using this opportunity to leave the country. I was due to join a tour group, leaving on 29th Jan but at the last minute, I decided against subjecting myself to 13 strangers, all of whom are couples with one being two parents and a kid.

My boss is due back in the office come 1st Feb. *sigh* Good times never last long enough.

At least I made progress today. Went out and got my guidebook to Eastern Europe. Managed to meet English friend who just came in from UK. Mission Accomplished.

It is now 5am and I am sitting here, restless. Wondering what I can do. Hmmm.. What CAN I do...? I would go to sleep if I could, but hmmm I can't.

I remember just two days back, I managed to let things get me so down that I cancelled my after work plans and came home to hide. Thankfully I had a friend who called at my beheist and we spoke at length.

Things today took a turn for the better, or at least part of my two-part problem managed to settle itself without me doing anything. The remainder now is just my trip.

Hmmm maybe I should go read now. I've got nothing and nobody else awake at this deadly still of the night... *potters off*

Apologies to any readers out there who has just wasted 5 minutes of his/her time reading this rambling...

Luge Strategy: Lie Flat and Try Not To Die

This is why I deplore being busy and having absolutely no time to sulk at home with I, Me and Myself.

Ever so often, my schedule gets turned into a tornado measuring at least a F4 on the Fujita scale. This in itself is fine. I just get home tired and come 3am, I am comatose, ready to repeat the cycle the next day. My brain however, is a fervant subscriber to the Law of Physics where 'Every Action Causes An Equal and Opposite Reaction". Following this logic, the action would be the hectic schedule, hence the reaction would be my emotions getting affected and lately, it has been looking like a possible F5 damage scene.

I suppose it is a good thing to be extremely busy but the aftermath of destruction and desolation has become more intolerable lately.

I had one such episode last night after getting home. It has absolutely nothing to do with whom I was with prior to the episode, nor any particular incident that happened. It just happened within two blinks of the eye after I showered.

Perhaps I am losing it, perhaps it is normal, sometimes when disaster has struck, the realisation doesn't ever hit home till much later. I was perhaps running on the last vestiges of insulin and didn't feel the pain and shock till much later. And then POW! Alarms were clanging from the depths of my medulla, then the tornado broke. By the time I gained consciousness, I saw little men walking around the destruction site, that is my heart, assessing the damage. I saw them scribbling notes in their clipboards, thereafter pronouncing that this has been a F4 Tornado.

What remains now is for me to start damage control. I doubt this time round, I want to start collecting 'relief funds' (i.e. talking to friends). I am probably going to adopt the Luge Strategy and that is : Lie Flat And Try NOT To Die.

Pop Quiz

I know a moron who was so bored that he tasked me to find the meanings of the following terms linked to aviation (questionable for Qn 10) and WWII as a Pop Quiz. So whilst listening in on a boring meeting, I managed to scrounge my shallow depths of knowledge and googled the rest:


1) Wilco - Will comply / Will Co-operate

2) Pancake - Code for Operation to destroy enemy forces’ supplies and equipment in bologna, italy area in December 1944

3) Servicable - Service area; Area in which the administrative services of a major military organization, such as an army or an air force are located

4) Scratch - n. Money

5) Ack – Ack - “Ack” stood for “A”. Ack-Ack stands for antiaircraft gun also, and especially antiaircraft fire.

6) Meatball - The glidescope light that pilots watch when they’re trapping.
Option 2: What is left of the moron who gave me this quiz!)

7) Buster - Maximum emergency power
(wanna tell me what ballbuster means??)

8) Zeke - Mitsubishi A6M Reisen (zero) IJNAF fighter

9) Wizard - Really first class, superlative, attractive, ingenuous (awww. thanks!)
Wizard (Kite) - RAF’s definition to mean “great airplane”

10) Scuttlebutt - A butt was a barrel. Scuttle meant to chop a hole in something. The
scuttlebutt was a water barrel with a hole cut into it so that sailors could
reach in and dip out drinking water. The scuttlebutt was the place where
the ship's gossip was exchanged. HELLO! This is a naval term!

*waits for silence and then thunderous applause as well as promised prize for doing quiz*

Baddie-Minton

I was waiting for a cab to work again and I saw the silhouette of a man whom I used to know when he was a teenager. Seeing him reminded me of the fun times I had as a child.

We were all kids then and used to have major badminton get-togethers in the court beside our block. Players in my apartment block came from a myriad of age ranges. There was my group (teens), there was the sibling group (teenagers), there was the experienced "pro"s (21 and above).

The mothers of all teen girls only allowed us to play well into the night only if there were Jies (sisters), Kors (brothers) or Pros around. Safety then was still a major concern in our mothers' eye. Our mothers and my nanny would occassionally spot check from the kitchen window, so we had to ensure that we never wandered off from the badminton court at all times. The Jies, Kors and Pros made it their duty to ensure everyone played the game well and learn the correct terms from the get-go. It was here that I grew from a cry-baby to a girl who could take the pain of a Pro smashing the shuttlecock into my thigh without flinching, to being able to flick these smashes. I also learnt how to stretch limbs to reach from drop shot to drop shot from side to side. I think it was during one of these Pro-terror sessions that I grew a phobia of standing in front of the net for a doubles team. But I would like to think that all this has helped me grow up taller and stronger than most girls. developed a stronger than most girls right arm, and my smashes send most girls shrieking into the corners of the court, crying for their mommies *proud*.

It was thus no wonder that all of us graduated to playing for our school teams. We sometimes met each other at inter-school national competitions and this was when the years of practice, knowing each others' weak spots came to work for us. There was no malice however. Some of us made it to the F&N teams. This was also where I caused permanent damage to my right knee *sob*.

Occassionally, we had to share the court with kids from the neighbouring blocks. This was when minor psychological warfare began. Whichever group was there last, would sit on the stone benches to watch the 'enemy' play and snicker if they didn't make the lob or drop shot. As we matured year by year, we started to play together, first as opponents of Blocks A and B, graduating to couple groups so the strength of teams were evenly matched. In retrospect, I find it fascinating to watch maturity and hormones change even a simple thing as playing badminton.

Anyways, this guy P was from the Block B. He was a shy teenager and perhaps about 4 years my senior. We noticed him because he was painfully quiet and shy. However, everyone but me seemed to notice that he spent a lot of time staring at me play. I found it an annoyance, for guys who are quiet didn't and still don't attract me. I did however notice him for his ungainly gait. He had a longer left stride. I always found it weird for his feet looked even matched and his game although, wasn't the best, he had nice form whilst playing.

As I brought myself back from my reverie, I watched him walk past the car park. He still had that ungainly walk, he had a haversack on his back and was walking back to Block B. Aside from a little receding hairline, nothing about him changed. His quiet demeanour still apparant, the way he looked at the floor as he walked. Mousie is the word I will use to describe his appearance though in reality, he isn't.

He doesn't seem to have changed on the outside. I wonder at that. How can a person not change from the days of his childhood after having experienced life? Was he happily married with kids now? Did that still not change him as a person? I thought back to myself. Have I changed? Has life made me wiser and better? Or have I let life bring me down from the once innocent kid I was eons back?

An Acquaintance

I once knew this person some time ago, let's just call him M. I broke off acquaintance with him way back when he started to get really, really creepy.

He had known who my ex, JS, was. They were both in the force, one in the Air Force, one in Navy. He then started telling me how JS's ex-gf was living near him. Started to tell me that this ex-gf was sharing with him things about JS. I was uncomfortable at this stage, thinking what the hell is M up to? Last thing I would want is for him to be friends with JS and I would have to start seeing JS as a friend, together with M and JS's ex-gf. I started to distance myself then.

Soon after, I met D (current heartbreak) & we were in the beginning stages of a relationship when D was hospitalised. M started to creep me out BIG TIME when he started pestering me to tell him D's full name, his hospital and ward numbers. It was almost as if he had planned to go down to check D out (best scenario) or go down to attack/confront/embarrass him or me/blah blah (worst scenario).

That was the time I decided I would cut off all contact with this creep. I started to ignore him. He started sending me smses like how he didn't realise I was the sort to desert a friend after getting a boyfriend and just generally bugged me. I told him once that I didn't appreciate emotional blackmail and for him to have a good life ahead. After that I just totally did not reply him and deleted his number. He would sms me once in awhile, and every birthday or Christmas or New Year and Chinese New Year, he would send me a greeting sms. I ignored him all the same. It has been 4 odd years now.

Yesterday, he smsed me again, wishing me an advance CNY for me and my family. I replied asking who that was. After he replied his name, I forced myself to reply a short one saying "Thanks. You too." I thought that was the end of that till next festive holiday.

He smsed me this morning at 7am, apologising for disturbing me this early, saying his dog collapsed and he needed money for a heart operation. Says the cost was $350 and he only had $200. Asked if I could loan him $150. I ignored him all the same. Perhaps I am just that heartless (for both his Retrievers are cute and smart) but I just don't believe him. A dog's heart operation just isn't so cheap. And how more co-incidental that after I replied him, he asked for money the very next day.

Sorry dude... no can do. You have a nice life you hear?

A Wedding and A Contradiction

I attended my first wedding of Year 2006 two days ago.

Whilst in the lobby, I was wistfully thinking to the numerous times he and I had been here. Him rushing out of the office to have his birthday dinner with me at Morton's. Enjoying our Morton's Martinis with Steak Finger Sandwiches here. The numerous late night movies we watched at Marina.

Needless to say, these pangs were self inflicted and not appropriate whilst attending a wedding. In the midst of my revelry, his best friend messaged me. He wanted to know how I was doing. I thought it strange that on the same day I had spoken to 'him', his best friend smsed to find out how I was (大概是想太多了吧？）. It was probably because his son's first-month celebration was close and I had informed them then that I couldn't be at the party coz I am still not ready to face him.

His best friend, best friend's wife (Mr & Mrs Smith) and I have always been close. They recently become proud parents a week after my split. I had garnered superhuman strength before I could visit them at the hospital. Truth be told, I only managed to embarrass myself when Mrs Smith asked how I was doing. Thankfully, we were alone then and no one saw my moment of fraility and being a new mother, she had tonnes of visitors trooping in and out every 10 minutes.

I digress... so throughout our smses, Mr Smith seemed anxious to know if I was doing alright and was insistent that they love me to bits nonetheless and want to remain friends. He commented also on how tired they have been and the lack of sleep that caused it. He seemed torn between trying to contain his joy at his new baby (by the way, baby has a fantabulous name) and being solomn for my grief. I tried my best to make my replies sound upbeat, eager to meet up and joy for his baby and absolutely grief-less. Afterall, I had been their wedding co-ordinator and practically ran the wedding schedule that night. I was also the organizer of Mrs Smith's bachelorette night where security had to visit our hotel room (memories, memories).

We ended the barrage of smses with Mr Smith's corny reassurance that they know I still love them nonetheless and that they are eager to meet up with me.

I managed to push these sms-ed thoughts to the back of my head, held my head high with a smile pasted on my face, and entered the wedding venue. I dutifully looked through the wedding album, made the appropriate ooh-ahhs, applauded the walk-in and solomnization, hugged the bride, told bride how great she looked (which of course, she truthfully did). What a show I had put on!

In retrospect, I now dread when Mr & Mrs Smith and I have to meet up. No, I do love them dearly and for the antics that the they bring to my life. However, I fear when I am asked how I am, and the look of absolute concern on their faces. I fear breaking down. I fear them finding out I'm still hurting. I fear seeing their faces lined with worry over me. I fear the fear.

I told Mr Smith this previously at the hospital and I still say it now, I will not confide in Mr & Mrs Smith. They are his friends and I will not put them in such a position where they have to take sides (Mr Smith said the missus gave quite a tongue lashing to him on the day she gave birth). I will not cause Mr Smith to be a little less of a friend to him or even empathize his thoughts. I will share in their joy for their newborn. I will be a memory and a friend to them but that is only because it will ease their worry and concern. I will put up another show even if it kills me.

Very soon I am sure, it will no longer be a show. In time... in time.

A Letter To Send You On Your Way

Yesterday, as I was waiting for the cab to pick me up and send me to the office, I decided to check the mailbox for new mails.

I found two small white envelopes neatly typed, with stamps and the postmaster's stamp across the stamp. I realised the envelopes were not addressed to anyone. It just had my mailing address. I assumed the address was typed with an old fashioned typewritter because the font was very 'blocky'. I mused over the use of an old fashioned typewriter in this day and age.

Opening the first letter, I came across a singular piece of paper, printed to resemble a $50 actual currency note. The Chinese call this 'Hell Money'. This is usually burnt for their deceased so that they will not be poor in the netherlands (Hey! I don't write the legends, I just tell it). Apparently all chinese who die go to hell or something. Don't ask me why. It's even illegal to have chewing gum in this country!

There was also a miniscule piece of white paper about 4 inches long and 2.5 inches in width. On this white slip, were red, typed chinese characters there gave information of a lady, her Identity Card Number, her address in the same block as mine. She was living in #A1-83, I was living on #X9-85. There were also chinese characters which literally translated, read:
"Owe Money Pay Money.
If you still do not pay automatically,
be careful your house gets locked"

I went weak with disgust. I opened the second letter and it was a replica of the first. Sigh... I don't even know the lady in the unit. What the hell? My family were neither borrowers, nor do we indulge in vices.

In the next instance, my family's safety ran through my head. I wondered if every household got this letter or if it was just mine. What would happen if my family was in danger simply because they weren't on their most vigilant the day these Scums-of-Earth paid a visit?

My cab came just then. With a sigh, I decided to do what most cantonese would do at being treated with such ill-intent, and muttered a rather loud: "Ngor CHOY Gor lei!! Dai Ga Lai See!"

Just How Long Before One Is OK?

Had to sms him today for information. Expected him to reply via sms with information.
He called instead, and not on his HP but from his usual private number.

I took the call, with what was a neutral yet slightly upbeat voice. He didn't want to email the information to me, instead he asked that I note it down during this teleconversation.

I was going to tell him that I might forget but couldn't find my voice suddenly. I felt my heart grow slightly heavier and then I felt my heart dislodge from the chest cavity.

We ended the call shortly. All in all, I would say the call took less than 1.5 minutes. I had thought I would be alright to take a simple non-romantic telephone conversation with him. Well, I thought wrong.

Just how long more would it have to take before I can look myself in the mirror and say:
"I am really going to be ok".

Just how long more is enough time?

Another Catch-Up Session and Flashback 202

Another tiring day out with friends. I am mentally drained.

I did a little shopping before L joined me 45 minutes later. We walked for another half an hour before I told her I had to have my first meal of the day immediately, otherwise I will not be able to keep any food down.

Without even waiting for N, we ordered and sat down to eat. It was fairly simple chinese fair, not overtly oily but carbohydrate laden nonetheless. I didn't eat more than 5 spoonfuls of rice before I started feeling bloated. I had a sinking feeling something wasn't right. I left the carbs aside and just had a couple of strands more of vegetable and another little bite of the teriyaki toufu. Soon after, N arrived and ordered his dinner. By then, I had already stopped eating for I was afraid I would hurl soon.

L and I went out for a smoke and this was when she asked how He was. I had to tell her that we were no longer a 'we'. She gasped before staring at me for signs of emotion. I had no detail to provide. I had no more tears to shed. I had nothing to show for the massive battle I had just weathered. I had no proof of scars for my injury laden body.

She tried prying a little more information out of me and all I could think about was how strange it was that everyone tended to ask who initiated it. Did it matter anymore? Was not the well-being of a friend all the information you needed? I brushed these distraction antics aside and focused on what she was saying. She stared at my face for a long while, in between puffs, for tears or emotion. Nothing.

It was strange to feel nothing. No pain, no anger, no emotion, just... nothing. She gave me a huge hug and said I have always been so strong. I think I muttered "It's ok and I'm ok".
I wish I had a placard to hang around my neck. The placard would say:
" My name is Chaos. I have just had a bad break-up and this is a scene of crime. But it's ok and I am ok. Move along now, nothing to see folks."

I felt myself drain immediately after the cigarettes. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I had nothing interesting to add to the conversation with N and L. I listened to them talk and tried to smile normally. I might have appeared as a very interesting piece of driftwood or a moronic cheshire cat or a mixture of both.

I gave L a lift in my cab on the way home, and as she was alighting, she said she would sms me once she arrived home. I had not asked her to nor is it my habit for friends to report to me or for me to report to them on having arrived home, safely. Did that make me the butch of the friendship then? I shudder to fathom that being independant meant I had to be the 'guy' in a friendship of two girls.

I then had another flashback of a conversation I had with him 2.3 years ago. He had sent me home and no more than ten minutes later, he called me. He reiterated that he knows I'm an independant person, but I should still learn to give him an sms to let him know I had arrived home safely. I had joked then that the road from the carpark to the xth level of my flat was so fraught with danger, that I had forgotten to report to him. He tried several times after that, reminding me to sms him or call him the moment I entered the front door. For some reason, no matter what I did, I always forgot. Every single time. Unintentional and no rebellion intended.
I just couldn't seem to remember.

Learning

Over the past month and 2 days, I discovered that I have had to re-learn a couple of things I took for granted.

Sleep. Something so simple and natural is now fraught with nightmares, jolting awake with fear gripping my heart after a mere two hours of sleep, chemically induced migraines, memories, sense of loss upon waking up.

Mandarin. Something I once learnt eons ago and have not missed since my secondary school days (again I stress on the word 'Eons').

Eating. Again, a simplistic act in itself and for some, an enjoyment even. Having to remember what to eat and also trying to find a motivation to eat at the right times is a chore.

Conclusion: confirms belief that the human mind has a great propensity for growth. We are afterall, as some theories have stated, utilizing only 10% of our brain power.

I Carry Your Heart by E.E. Cummings

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

As with literature, poetry is beautiful in that it speaks to everyone in its own way. Some may read this and think it is written about a lover. Others may read this and think of the love and affection between sisters, brothers or friends.

For me, the love for the literary piece is not of the depth of emotion the author is revealing. To me, it is more of the singular line "i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart). If you have realised, it is sometimes impossible to guard even our own heart with the maximum of care, what more to guard the heart of a loved-one within your own. Hmmm I cannot empathise more, than now.

Friends

I just got back from a movie. In the movie, granddaughter was asking her grandmother, who was a loner, whether she spent time talking to her girlfriends about her first sexual experience. To which, the grandmother said it was during her wedding night and in her time, no one talks about such topics, it was inferred.

The granddaughter then remarked that the grandmother has thus missed out on one of the best times of her life, talking about sexual experiences with best friends.

Hearing this makes me think back to the hours and hours of enjoyment my friends and I had. Sharing about our sexual escapades... Hmmm ... Memories are good things aren't they?

Well... I am glad I have been made privvy to such 'occassions'.

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

ONE ART

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-- Elizabeth Bishop

Was just reminded of this poem I once favoured... think it's beautiful and decided to share. It seems apt to my current frame of mind, and the author was not referring to the loss of a lover (contrary to popular belief), but a friend.

Written to resemble a cavalier afterthought, made all the more poignant by the irony of it.

A Bloomin' Mushroom

Colleague reminded me that she is doing her hair this Sunday and that if I wanted to colour my hair, I should make the appointment and we can go together.

I am still unsure what I can do to make a drastic change.

I had the scariest of shock when after having had my trim, that my new cut is not shower friendly. If I took a shower and left the hair to dry naturally, I would look like a rather large portobello mushroom. The stylist had layered the bottom part of my tresses by too much and the portion from my chin to about 5 inches after my shoulders, is rather long and lean. The top... oh my goodness, the top from the chin to the tips of my head, well its got a rather strong mind of its own. It blooms at will and whenever you aren't looking, it tends to curve in the oddest of ways.

I would like to be able to say that I look like a cute portobello mushroom though... sadly, even I am not able to create such a lie of the century.

I now spend 45 mins after each shower, alternating between trying to terrorize and coax the mushroom to lie flat against my head in one direction, whilst trying to tease the portion from the chin downwards to fluff out a little and to stand proud. This is all done with the help of a hair dryer, which gleefully takes opportunities to scald my scalp into patches of cooked flesh.

Aye... the troubles of having caught a stylist on a bad day. He is banned henceforth btw...
Goodbye Christopher! It was good while it lasted though but you are bad for my ego, and between my ego and you, I'm sorry you have to go.

A Lateral Jump & Affirmation of a Political Game

Had our annual meeting yesterday. Was announced that a position I had coveted for 2 years is finally open and they will allow an internal recruit first.

I am now stuck between making a lateral jump where the con might be a salary cut and low bonuses and staying where I am right now, getting more than the new position, but hating every living, breathing minute with my current superior.

The good thing from the meeting though, is that our appraisals are done and I have finally gotten my bonus for Year 2005. I have mixed feelings about what I got. I had already predicted that with the increment and bonus I got in Jan 2005, I would be stagnated and the bonus percentage would be definitely low. As such, I didn't give it my all but generally, I think I managed to pull my weight and bring in the figures.

The management's explanation during the meeting was that higher salaried staff would not be getting a high bonus percentage, whereas the administrative personnel with very moderate salaries will be getting higher bonus percentage to make up for the loss in their monthly salaries.

All sound reasoning...which still sucks like hell at the end of the day when the receiver opens her envelope to glance at the cheque.

No matter... with this, I am now able to plan for my trip to Europe with peace of mind.

Superwoman Seeks Superman With Handy Aeroplane

After our long ass drone of a meeting this morning, the results are out.

We will not be getting our bonus till after Chinese New Year.

That means I will not be able to seek the reprieve I have been eagerly awaiting till a little later.

Any superhero out there with a handy aeroplane to whisk me off to neverneverland? At this rate, I will even consider North Pole. Just somewhere cold to dull my senses. Maybe I should put out an ad out in the Chaos Chronicles:

Superwoman Seeks Superman with appetite for Adventure.
Me, dying to freeze my superbutt in the cold.
You, the hero to bring Superwoman for a holiday in aeroplane.
Willing to pay my own food and lodging.

Nightmare 101

Had a migraine. Against better judgement, went to bed to rest for a bit.

Had another friggin nightmare again in that short span of time.

I was packing my stuff from his place. His room door opened and his cousin's wife walked out. She looked across the hall and saw me packing. She turned around and asked him why I was still there. Apparantly, the two of them are together now (This is a girl that he doesn't even like!).

She held onto his hand and walked towards me. He said I had to leave. I was infuriated. I was packing wasn't I??! I suddenly turned around and wondered when the hell they got together and my seat wasn't even cold yet!

She saw my look, smiled ever so sweetly, and spouted some gushing gooey love story as though I was her best friend. I felt her words were edged with broken glass, razor sharp and ready to draw blood.

They both turned and walked back to his room, closing the door on me. I was left alone outside, packing my stuff but I couldn't move no matter how much I urged myself to pack and leave.

What a loser nightmare huh?

If I could but choose whom I love...I would also be able to choose what I would have a nightmare about... this is nonsense!

A Tale Of Two Cities

Have you ever noticed how time seems to crawl when things in life are difficult?
Arguably, it stands to reason that a disturbed mind pays more attention to Father Time because more concentration is spent on worry than being engaged in everyday life.

I have a splitting migraine on my cerebral cortex. It started as a little gnawing annoyance. It has now been promoted to a migraine. Well Done Cortex! Good on ya!

Wanna be home...
Quit whining, can you not sense that the freedom is drawing nearer with each stab of clarity?

I have been in a state of trance at work today, going through the motions with absolutely no clarity nor recollection on what it was that I did.
That shouldn't be an unfamiliar senstation...

Wanna be home...
Again, quit whining

I managed to muster enough courage today to log in, I saw him. I went back into hiding. I do not think he has left the country yet.

Be brave fragile one. You simply must not let an absolute unworthy existence diminish yours.
Riiight...have you never heard of how a void or vacuum can diminish even the brightest of flames or prevent one from being lit?

1.5hours to go... I can't smell freedom as yet.
Always a good time to visit an ENT specialist. Good thing you don't have to visit a brain surgeon as yet, last I heard, brains were not available for transplant.

Flashback 101

Slept at 6am without chemical aid.

Woke up from another jolt. In slumber, I guess I must have felt him again. A simple memory, of him being there beside me, of me turning over and able to drape an arm over his sleeping form.
Felt the security his presence brought.

I woke up and felt the loss once again.

He Has Left

I received an email this morning, it was from him.

It was a generic mail, stating that so and so has invited me to google talk. This function is for gmailers to be able to talk to each other like a web phone, pc to pc. We had planned on using this all along, as our means of communication, when he left for that job.

I guess even after all my efforts to not face the confirmation that he has left, I am still being forced back into reality with one big swoosh. He has left. I get it.

I don't think he sent that email to me to turn on the feature so we can talk. I think it was sent as a mass mail to all addresses in his gmail, and he kinda forgot that I'm on the address as well, I guess.

I am not done torturing myself. I need to stay in oblivion a little longer. I wanna stay in this ditzy, non-caring phase for as long as it takes for me to shut off that damn valve of pain. Once it is shut and sealed, I can go back to being me.

My Europe Trip

Boy! It must either be the rainy weather or I must be losing a bolt or two in my kinks. Three blogs in one sitting seems a bit much. But ah well... when you gotta blog, you gotta blog.

I was having a smoke last night and turned on CNN for kicks. It is utterly depressing.
Seems Turkey is suffering from the onset of bird flu, though it hasn't been determined if it can be transmitted via human contact.

Iraq is in the midst of a standoff, sorta.
Britain Embassy has stopped closed its doors in the meantime and Europe has advised against travel anytime soon.

What will happen to my East Europe trip?? I desperately need a reprieve and to get perspective. I decided in December 05 that I needed this trip, solo or otherwise. Now all I am waiting for is my bonus appraisal on Jan 12th. After that I am good to go!

Sheesh... ok this is the plan. I'm gonna go as long as travel is still permitted.
Whether I die there or not, I leave it to the Big Guy.

A Question Of Face

I went onto yahoo messenger the other day out of sheer boredom.

I met old friends whom I have chatted with 6 years ago but have never met, mainly because we are all in different countries although all are asians. This is a good thing for me though. I have never engaged in chatting for any other reason than to chat. I don't believe in enlarging my circle of friends thru a chat line nor finding 'The One' or a fuck buddy (FB) thru it. What results thereafter is just comfortable exchange of opinions and views. The chat is there for my convenience and I have the shields of a keyboard and a monitor to screen out potential predators.

I met one such old friend recently. He was all too concerned about my current emotional state which started my alarm bells to go a-clanging (Translation: Certain species of guys who are immediately concerned about your emotional state, even though they have never been all that close a friend to you, just spell out sexual predator to me). I was happy for the distraction though and was grateful this was just chat and nothing more.

He emailed his picture without me asking for anything, which further confirmed that he might be as shallow as I am beginning to believe he might be. I didn't return the favour. Having a realised mental picture of me does not a good conversation make. He started saying that he wanted me to move on with life and persisted in us going out. I made it clear then that I was not comfortable meeting new people and certainly have no lack of friends around me, much as that might seem unfathomable.

A week later, he started giving me attitude. Of course, being the polite person I sometimes can be, I asked what was bugging him, but truthfully not really caring if he answered me or not. That was when he revealed that he isn't the sort of person to just remain a chat buddy. He went onto paint a pretty picture of how he likes to care for his real friends by meeting up with them and giving real comfort *quirk of mouth as I type this*. I wasn't foolish enough to ask what the extent of 'real comfort' meant. I saw where this 'emotional blackmail' was going and didn't really say more than 'OK'. He got flustered after I didn't type more after that. He asked if I was gonna ignore him. (You think???)

Anyways, it still surprises me that at this 'tender' age of 31, I still come across 31 yr old guys who still go with the emotional blackmail operatus modi. Perhaps if I was 15, it might have. But babe... I have been around the block and then some, perhaps you should try Door Number 2 instead coz Door Number 1 ain't opening until hell has frozen over!

That being said, I have to qualify my thoughts on chat friends. I have met and made firm friendships with people this way... but these are people who have no other intention in their bones besides being a friend. After over 6 years, our friendships are still going on strong and one of them has come to be known as my 'break-up guy'. He has always stood there beside me, nursing my mental health back to par whenever I crumbled and in turn, I have tried to impart on him some of my stoic strength which he seems to need in making the next big leap in his life.

Amusing but strange on how some view the net sometimes. Some of us are so sheltered into cultural social norms that all that matters is what the person looks like. I wonder if everything in our life has to be what society deems successful. Does that include having 'successful' and great looking friends?

Shopping Strategy and J's Move To Kazakhstan

Did retail therapy yesterday in hopes to jog flailing interest in life. Didn't work.

I did buy what I set out to buy but other than that, didn't really spend any on apparel. J was shocked.

Anyways, meeting with her again brought back so many memories. One of which was to thunk myself over the head and remember that I hated shopping with her. She is one of the slowest shoppers ever to exist on planet earth. She has this incredible need to touch every single piece of clothing on the rack, regardless if the material or style suits her. By the time she was done, we had to barge into a closed Aussino just so I can get a bath sheet. Grrr!

Women should have a strategy for shopping. Go in, do the survey of all racks, and only move towards those that are within the acceptable price, colour, size range, material, blah blah. After which, swoop onto the rack of choice, see something interesting, search for a piece in the appropriate size and then pull it out to consider. DO NOT look at the piece and consider for half an hour, only to find that there isn't a size available for you (What a bloody waste of time and anticipation!). Move on and do not linger if there isn't an available colour or size for you. Anyways... I digress.

Anyways, when I finally managed to drag her kicking and screaming towards a much needed cafe, we got to talking about her impending move. K will be posted to either Kazakhstan or some neighbouring country in about 3-6 months and she will be following him this time. I suppose I should be glad that she is going this time round so that they can begin trying to start a family.

J has always been regimented with a schedule. When to get married, to buy a home, to enjoy couplehood, to start a family. I guess she is more "manly" in that sense as compared to me, the wuss when it comes to affairs of the heart. I could never stick to a schedule. But I am glad for one aspect though, that when she brings a child to this sorry planet of ours, it will be a child brought up by loving Christian parents and the child will be wanted.

I have always believed that children should never be brought into this world for any other reason than that. Suffice it to say that I believe abortion is always the option when parents are not ready to give the child 120%. Be it an unwanted child, hectic work schedules, parents with no inkling of responsibilities, parents not in a marriage, parents who have no idea what marriage vows means, etc. I have had a bad childhood with my own mom and I guess this has helped to shape what I feel a child needs. Also, my skeptism on marriage is not helping this cause. It is not that I do not believe in my own faithfulness or devotion to a marriage. I hold it to be the ever true sanctity in life. I just do not trust the partner to value the vows as much as I do. That being said, I do not believe it is a gamble I would want to risk anytime soon.

We talked about staying in contact although she believes I may not travel the distance to visit her. She forgets my love for travel to places other than Asia and spirit of adventure. Nonetheless, I will be losing the comfort of a friend who can always be counted on to give me her emotional support for times when I stumble on this treacherous road of love. I guess amongst all close friends, she is the only one who has made the effort to see me through my facades of strength.

Take care J! I will miss you but I believe the cause for your departure is so much more meaningful and important! And I long for the day where I will be the favourite cool aunt to your child (Yes... I intend to be the good cop whilst the parents will be the bad cops).

To Seal A Fate

Oh ewww ewww ewww! This stupid cooking programme just grossed me out!

The old geezer managed to travel to some cold region in South Australia now and I think I just heard him say "put the seal into the wok"! *gag...puke* I saw the meat... it's a deep deep fuschia like a good burgundy wine. Oh geeeez!! There goes appetite for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner.

Seals are ... well... erm.. some of em are cute!
Ok , I am not holier than thou... I have tasted kangaroo and emu meats. I am a sinner. Please forgive me.
BUT... I have not touched veal for a long time now.

I suppose it's relative though. If Singapore had an overpopulation of an animal, I would assume we would think nothing of eating them as well as think of palatable ways to prepare em...
(well hey! we are chinese. The scary consumers of monkey brains, live snake hearts and... *grows too weak in the knees to continue upon image of snake*)

Another Weekend

Slept at 5am this morning and woke at 10.40am.

And one would wonder why I didn't pop a pill. Coz the last thing I need is to be dependant on some chemically induced life. Grrr... I WANNA BE ABLE TO SLEEP AGAIN!!!

Am so drained both emotionally and mentally. It's almost as if I were schizophrenic. The logical versus the damned. Both fighting to gain control of what I should or should not do. Damn an overactive brain. Damn the nightmares!

Anyways... amidst the mundane, I am getting that desolate feeling again. Like wondering if he is in town or not and flashbacks of what we used to do over weekends. Arrrgggh STOP IT! Never gonna get better if I keep dwelling on the past. N..e..e..d....t..o.....m..o..v..e......f..o..r..w..a..r..d..s

Well, at least I'm gonna try out this new yoga class tomorrow. Won't have time to dwell the minute I wake up. I gotta be there at 8.30 am tho..hmmm wish me luck!

Life's Small Mercies

I am trying to do what the old adage says and that is, to count my blessings.

I have realised for awhile that whilst I may not have tonnes of other luxuries in life, I am blessed with an abundance of friends who are always willing to pick me up when I stumble.

I have not logged onto msn for two odd weeks now because I just can't handle seeing something as simple as his ID and also because I don't really want to know if he has left the country yet.

A friend noticed this and called me today. Asked me what was wrong. Of course the poor sod didn't know what hit him when I revealed torrents of emotions, wrapped in a few short sentences.

Ok, therapy tonight is some fortune teller this Christian friend of mine is bringing me to for a gag, and then drinks till we pass out. Incidentally, she is also nursing a gaping heart wound.
Should make for time well-spent tonight... something I have not experienced in weeks.

Change

As with every single female I know, including those I don't know on sitcoms and famous what-have-you's, everytime something major happens to cause the lady in question to spiral into depression, they go for a haircut.

I had this 'radical' idea of wanting a change in my hair style and colour.
I need a change.

I want a colour so radical, I will not be able to recognize myself in the mirror (No I do not mean Lime Greens, Shocking Pink, Scary Mary Ash Blondes and such). I just want something not so sedate. I want a full colour and highlights.

Maybe a change in hairstyle and colour is a woman's way of accepting to herself that things are going to be different now. Maybe we are chameleons, ever changing and adapting to the environment. Whatever...

I will have to run to two different salons to get it done. The inexpensive colour stylist seems to always favour me with a cut that makes me bloom like a friggin mushroom (Big poofy top and lean stem) but his colour contrast and technique is cool. The snipping stylist in another salon is friggin expensive but at the very least, he listens when I tell him "NO MUSHROOM". His colour skills though, leaves me wondering if the $260 I spent on colour alone, is for invisible dye.

Maybe a change will do me good. Maybe this is me finally accepting what has been the truth for weeks. Maybe I can forget the dull throbbing ache in my chest by shocking myself in the mirror. Riiiight... off we go! Tally Ho!

Post Note: I have just had a snip. Hmmm... Don't see much difference sides being neater. Maybe I shd do a fro to see a drastic change?

Helloo Cabbie

There once was a cab I took and we had a conversation merely because I had several places to run, it was raining and he was kind enough to wait for me during all these runs. He looked to be about in his late 50's or early 60's so I was rather taken aback when he said if I didn't mind, we could stay in contact as frends. (Ok I have a warped mind, 50-something yr old uncles don't really wanna be my friend)

As things would have it, I managed to take the same cab again some time later from the same place , the street behind my office. I promptly avoided eye contact and when he seemed ready to recognize me, I feigned sleep with a light snore.

And the fifth or sixth time I took his cab again for home, he finally said it: "Forget already ah???! You going to (address of my destination) hor? See how I know??" At this point, no amount of feigning comatose would work so I had to put my long forgotten actings skills to the test. I had to pretend to stare at him and gave a blank stare. After five long minutes, I just gave a bare upper curl from the corner of my lips and became engrossed in scenes on the highway.

Today, it happened again. If I were paranoid I would swear this old dude was stalking me. Great... just what I asked Santa for... a stalker cab. I couldn't bring myself to wave him off and wait for another coz that was just hurtful. Know what his first words were to me when I flung open the passenger door? "We are fated to meet". My knees went weak and legs almost buckled (or perhaps it was just a slippery rainy day) before I climbed into the cab. He started asking me stuff like
a) if I was gonna go home to cook ( I nodded)
b) Do I stay with folks (I didn't answer him for a long time but nodded finally coz I've had 10 years of good convent upbringing)
c) Was I cooking for family ?
d) Why doesn't my mom cook for me?
e) Why don't I eat together with my folks?

I hardly said more than 10 words to him but he seemed content. I bet the next time I take his cab, he's gonna ask if I was married and do I have kids, and why wasn't I married. He would say the same thing all other cab drivers have said to me; "You not a bad person whaaat? Why don't wanna get married?".

Ooh... But I am a bad person... a very very bad person. I am the cab drivers WORST NIGHTMARE if I really havta be... I will bite the tyres of any cab that asks me that in the future. I will do my best!

Boundaries Don't Keep People Out; It Keeps You Boxed In

Was supposed to go to work on Tuesday. I just couldn't... Today might have been the day he left the country, or not. I don't know but that hollow achy feeling returned. I ended up taking leave. I felt bad.

In the end, A came over. We exchanged the loading of our animes and finally left the house to get groceries for my singular meal per day. I decided I didn't really want carbs in my meals since I now only eat dinner each day so we went in search of meats. I was planning to go Swiss Butchery for the variety of cuts and was in search of "stew beef" but in the end, we ended up in Cold Storage and they didn't have anything remotely resembling meats suitable for a stew. Moreover, the cuts seemed to have oxidised (if you can call it that) and there was a 2 colour tone to the cross sections. Momentarily, I lamented the fact that meat cuts weren't all that common here besides the usual chicken and pork in the wet market. I couldn't even get a decent slab of salmon in Cold Storage!

As I was planning how to cook the beef for dinner, I was suddenly hit with a pang of how he would have fixed ideas of how to prepare the meats or fish. I never had to bother with such decisions since he considered himself a great cook, and I let him have his way.

I made a sad statement later on to A, I said I would be having dinners alone for a very long time to come. It wasn't so much the being alone that bugged me, it was more of the fact that I admitted he wouldn't be in my life henceforth that got to me.

It feels extremely lonely without visions of him anymore in my future. It's almost the same as feeling alone in a crowd of friends. Everywhere I go, I still see flashbacks of us, I can't pronounce his namesake, go to places we used to go together, meet up with common friends. All of which this is extremely juvenile, even to me!! I heard this statement and cannot agree more: "Boundaries don't keep others out. It boxes yourself in". None of my friends can reach me, or perhaps I am just not ready to let them in.

I made a comment to an unknown blogger the other day about how I have not found the reason to motivate me to stop smoking. The blogger said to go back to the blog once I have. He wants to share that joy with me then. Something so innocently said, must have dragged up something deep within for that was when I started bawling. Gawd... I am a mess.

I can but wait...

A fresh new blog to escape the old... strange that I would mind friends reading about my current state of grief.

Well... current damage is a broken heart. Or at least the last few shards of what was once a fragile heart. I haven't bothered to go sweep up the shards to try and glue it back together again for later use. I just left it there.

The pain is still too raw to talk about.
I'm still making a great conscious effort to block flashback memories.
Going to work each day still requires a sleeping pill & a tranquiliser the night before.
Going out with friends is still too big a step for me.

Having been thru' this before, I am sure with time the pain will be less noticable.

I can, but wait...