I took a peek at the C.v that had been sent to me. As i read through the list leading to yet more lists of accomplishments, my pulse quickened and i couldn't help but rest a palm against my chest because i felt overwhelmed and.. slightly dizzy. Linguistically a genius, the cunningness not at all concealed; Musically learnt, and as always i think of the nimbleness and quickness of concert performers; Academically.. I figure i counted 2 non distinctions.

How often do you meet a person who really inspires you to do more?

It would be easier if he was a complete bastard, so i could console myself with the fact that everyone hates him but unfortunately, as these things turn out, he is a total and complete sweetheart. Thanks god.

Why does intelligence in its varied forms make you/me/us wet? For women perhaps it's linked to an inherent need to want to choose a man whose able to lead you to a more secure path. But why does it affect men in the same way?

And yet- to want to do more than the nothing i'm overly familiar with- How can it be bad?

How could I have felt so weak and so passive at twenty and feel so strong now?
It is so wonderful. - Anais Nin at 69

Is tiredness a good excuse?

Moi: Do you have any idea what her age is?
BD: Don't know, never asked. Know shes the same age as her hubbie though.
Moi: Uh. But... You know how old he is right?
BD: Yeah. 34.

Sometimes, it's better to just let some things pass :)

Why do people who speak the same dialect, so foreign their accent makes your tongue curl involuntarily, like to talk loudly in enclosed spaces in english with a hurting captive audience?

Some people take 'it' ie: the chronic state of being six kinds of a moron, to the extremes.

Went into the recreation room in the unit after lights out to find a middle aged *man nearing the age of 40, in a crouch in front of the main door. He wrung hands and lamented that i was just lucky to have caught him. I might have been amused if he had had chosen a better place to hide.


*term used broadly

Ramble ahead, proceed with caution.

Religion is such a volatile, emotional topic, even when just brooding about it with myself. Isn't it with you as well?

Typically i change the subject when someone brings up issues, because regardless of whether they share the same faith, viewpoints are never the same. You could spend time getting annoyed at someone who says christians started the war and thus muslims have been on the warpath ever since. You could get miffed when someone remarks that perhaps spirits are somehow preventing me from getting that urge to marry (wtf?), but at the same time i find myself dissing the teachings of my own church.

Take circumcision. Invariably someone will say that was in the old testament, and as such, is hardly relevant. OK, fine. In that case, are the 10 comandments just guidelines, and passe? Or.... The creation of the world in 7 days. We're not supposed to take things literally? Fine. Then whats with the brouhaha and outrage of the big bang, and evolution? If it's not in the bible, then what are we honestly supposed to believe?

And the curious thing is.. If it's written nowhere, how can some people be so sure about it? I figure if you knew everything for certain, you'd be..God.

One man's meat may be another's poison.

I sit back with a smile as an idle thought flits in and out... One's useless lump may be just that to 'some' man, but to another it could be a morsel that he just has to want, like the day i had nothing but chicken rice because, inexplicably, i couldn't get enough.

I may have a burger with foie gras just to see what something so wrongly expensive tastes like, or i might go to a country themed restaurant to have a taste of something more exotic on my tongue; I might want to try a dish only once, or share it with friends becuase some things are best shared that way; I might want to have jalapeno chips on the side because im tired of soup,

but i'll always come back to my chicken rice.

So don't feel miffed that someone has compared you to a dish to be had anywhere, or to a simple pleasure you think you're better than. Somethings are more than a passing phase, and i know i'll won't ever get tired of my lumps of chicken rice meat :)

I always feel like i disappoint people with my answers.

You know which questions, i'm sure you do. They ask anything related to your job that you're supposed to know everything about.

Case in point. I'm in the healthcare line, thus people will not unexpectedly ask me things ranging from chest pains, to disfigured feet, to abscesses which live in a sunless world. Sure, people will always look to the nearest person for answers, but.. i have the feeling i'm supposed to give them an elaborate answer, complete with medications and urgent, immediate actions they must take or they will die in 12 months.

If you have pain, the obvious thing would be to see if there is anything in the immediate surroundings which might be or did cause it, ie: the pole sticking in your chest is albeit stopping any bleeding but i'm pretty sure you need to get it out. Soon. Splinter? Tight bra? Jeans which chaff unmentionables and thus explain a certain soreness? Havn't eaten for a day and don't know why you're feeling faint?

If you don't have any obvious symptoms, like, oh say.. a one sided slackness, or a crushing pain in the chest follwed by arm numbness, chances are i might not know what is wrong with you either. If you consistently need analgesia stronger than panadol, yes, i'm afraid i'm going to tell you to get your ass to a dr's to find the root cause.

I suppose it would be glorious if i could tell you to bleed 2 chickens, blend their giblets and drink it with ginseng after drinking your own pee for 5 dawns in a south-westerly direction. Or i could deduce what illness you have if, while you are drinking your pee, you notice it smells of petunias.

I can't take your pulse and tell you you're preggers, or prepare poltices for you people. I don't know if it is Definitely stress that is giving you chest pains.

But i can tell you which drs give the most medical leave :)

I don't know how serious she is, wanting this divorce. Perhaps it's more of a cry for help, for acknowledgement of what she thinks shes suffering. I dion't think it's going to happen really.

If they split, im not going to live with either of them, lol. Sigh.

I hadn't been for about 2 months, and was happy that morning i decided to go to church. It was going to be a really good day, i thought, and was all smiley. She hadn't been for, oh, 8 mths, and no one knew if she was ever coming back. "She's changed." they whispered behind her back, no one wanting to have a prolonged conversation about bags or makeup.

Who would have thought we would both decide to come back on the same day to church? During the opening hymm i saw a flash of her red jacket, and at that instant, turned and recognised her. Inadvertently (fittingly) invoking God's name as i saw her. The bf turned and saw his ex. We stared at in other in mortification and other. We stared at the hymm lyrics. It had to happen sooner or later. Why not now?

I knew it was about time we met, i'd wanted to long ago. Recognising her from her pictures was easy. Its bizarre, but sitting behind her i was able to observe all her little motions and the sound of her coughs, of her voice as she greeted the rest of the group, and every little thing seemed so..her. More of recognition than observing, i felt. Of all things her mom was there, and i felt her eyes on me, When i looked up to meet her mom's eyes, i couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she seemed to be smiling slightly. Great.

Later when we all sat together after service, it was hard for me to say anything to her. She studiously avoided my eye after i caught it, sat as far away from me as possible, and i would have laughed at her efforts to remain so blase if i had not been feeling so unerved myself. I almost felt sorry, the way the girls in the group didn't exactly hurry to welcome her back, the way they they recoiled a little the more she flashed her scarlet nails and makeup around. I might have left, if not for the steadying look in jamerson's eyes, and his gentle pressure of reassurement on my hands as he left me alone with the girls.

Did i have reason to feel awkward? Yes. Did i have reason to feel guilty? I think we all three do.

Crap.

In beauty, with words, in form
with emotions, in love, with expression
uneasy routine all.

living between poles
wanting flames,
yet never frozen,
unsure as half bloomed flowers between seasons.

Crown my joys
or cure my pain
but my deadness
it drives me insane.


Sometimes its nice to give in and sound like i've just missed a dose of anti-depressants, but really.. What fuels writing (mine are various states of drivel, but i like them just the same), and many expressions of self are emotional driven; sometimes so much so that we think of their authors and creators as either manic, depressive, or everything inbetween( or outside the normal range of sanity.

Sometimes i give up things, take them as dead because i think things shldn't, or can't go furthur. Sometimes i think that if i took more effort to see things and people to their end, i'd find out alot more about should and could.

I wrote yesterday.
It got eaten up by the random pc i was using in the lab.
*sobs*

It gets harder and harder to pen brain to keyboard, so i'll just meander gently and aimlessly, letting thoughts lead me where they will.

While the parents were abroad, my maternal grandmother aka por por, gave a call to ask someone to pick up some ba zhang (rice dumplings wrapped with pandan leaves). The call annoyed me, because i knew it wld have to be me to run down. P.p stays in pipit road, which is just off McPherson road.. A sleepy corner overlooking the aljunied bit of the P.I.E, and coincidentally where i did quite a bit of my growing up. I don't know why, but the morning air, with only the geriatric to be seen doing tai chi, or old men playing chess in the morning sun seemed to lighten my step as i walked briskly towards the block.

As i sat at the old table laden with egg yolks, shrimp, ginko nuts and siew yoke (roasted pork), again i felt bad that i never visit. How to put this into words? I cant begin to describe the immense satisfaction i felt as i tried to make a couple ugly mishapen lumps of rice. It wasn't just that i felt tradition taking a hold of me, as i looked upon the old coal burner and pots she was using. It wasn't just that i felt truly aware of my ties for the first time, as she spoke in cantonese and showed me how to fold the leaves into an ideal nook. I think it was just..sweet contentment.

What kind of routine do we put ourselves through when contentment is such a rare commodity in our lives?

I told j about the unsurety i harbour. Children, my stance on present matters, the whole thingamajig. Later i dreamt that he took me to Tiffany's where he chose a ring. I gazed at it; the vivid and darkly green jade carved piece in the center, and the loop around my finger a delicate gold wrought circle which looked pretty enough to wear on own. (I know, i know, they wld never stock such a thing) It looked like a glorious vintage piece, something lasting and precious. I looked and looked, admired and twisted my hands around to see it in all the angles of the light.. After a while, i took it off, held it in my hands for the last time, and gave it back to j, saying that even though there was no doubt it was a treasure, it was just not me

The spooks in my unit are getting more and more restless, with a particular one being rather spirited. She/it continued tapping a colleague on the shoulder after the boys had stopped playing. One evening i felt a wierd tingling sensation on my back and not long after, chris saw the shadow of a woman lunge towards him before it disappeared. And now i must go give kisses of thanks to whoever it was who told me not to turn around when you hear or feel..stuff.

listening to: black cherry
goldfrapp

Black cherry makes for good making out background. Now, now, it was just a thought.

I refused to blog about the elections, and i still won't. Just have 3 things to say before i zip up.

• Did no one else get called a sympathist and not in a good way?
  
• Teo ser luck looks less dishy without his specs. Why do people always assume they look better without?
  
• Um. Make it 2 points, because im not sure if free speech is allowed.
  

It's been really quiet these weeks. Probably just me, and i'm beginning to feel positively like a hermitess(sometimes). That politeness, that tact, and that diplomacy is wearing thin and i don't want to blow up/be rude to anyone because i'll just feel bad for days. So far it's just been reservations that didn't materialise, a small mouth that just wouldn't close, and a masculine one which took liberty with addressing me. In the midst of there being too many things to do, the feeling of standing still doesn't dissipate. Things don't get moved fast enough. I believe the name to the sensation is wound up :)

Picked up the ol' running shoes, but all i've been doing is stumbling, or making distressing (to the other runners) breathing noises. My secret goal is to run the standard chartered (quarter marathon anyone?) at the year end.Which year end i'm not sure yet. Not everyone knows i fag, and i've been intermittently off for 2 mths, and completely for 3 weeks. God knows, its one of the things i enjoy wholeheartedly, and being near someone who does, or catching a whiff of the that heavy scent that is so sweet to me, is enough to want to make me renege and be satisfied i'll live till 40. I figure if i run enough, i'll be so miserable with aching that i forget running off to the mama store to get my fix.

J and i were at Ikea, when i sur·rep·ti·tiously noticed , from the back, a tall feminine figure all in white. "Hot!", i thought to myself. I didn't count on J noticing her either. This is the first time he's noticed someone and had a reaction like that when he's with me, and i'm shamed to say it but..I'm sweetly jealous. He went on to extoll the virtues of her features, her height, and maddingly, he looked like he was in a bit of a daze. Eurasian, very young, and pretty breasty, very leggy. There was no denying she was damningly gorgeous. It's strange for me to feel this way, to feel a little ashamed that i didn't look perfect for him, right then and there.

Ack. Must be the nicotine, or lack therof thats making me womanly weak!!!!

listening to: touch the sky
kanye west lupe fiasco

So the date has been set. I've never voted, and happily, it looks like this year won't be an exclusion. Do i care? Sure. Do i care as much as , say, how much my next holiday is costing? No. Because i know i will be called to exercise judgement which will be in turn utilised, which is more then i can say for the former.

Moving on.
Why are men so hyperchondriacal? I nod, and wince as J tells me about his pain, i plain well remember what mine felt like. Sometimes though, i wonder how it is that he's hit his age and is still so.....

J: I've told work to prepare for my absence next week. One week mc.
f: How do you know its one week?
J:All wisdom teeth extractions give a week's worth.
f: Oh..You already know its a wisdom tooth?
J: Dunno. Can't feel whether it's a cavity or wisdom tooth.
f: The whole area too sore, sweetie?
J: Not sure. Feels like there's no tooth left.
f: Isn't there a hole? Some sharp edges? If it's a cavity...
J: Dunno leh. Think have both a cavity and wisdom tooth.

It's like for every problem, they have to think of the worse possible scary scenario.
It's like when you get a cough, and ask me if i think it's pneumonia because there's a rattling in your chest.
Or the way you ask if i think you're having heart attacks.
Or ask me why you're feeling weak when you havn't had either lunch or dinner.

Sweetheart, i know you're in pain, and i'll hold your hand while waiting for you to go into the dentist's, but i'll still laugh when you come out drooling and wadded with wool.

Never date someone who causes pain on a daily basis. We're overated, and we don't come with the uniform.

Your Hidden Talent

You're super sensitive and easily able to understand situations. You tend to solve complex problems in a flash, without needing a lot of facts. Decision making is easy for you. You have killer intuition. The right path is always clear, and you're a bit of a visionary.

What's Your Hidden Talent?

Your Daddy Is OJ

What You Call Him: Pa Why You Love Him: He takes you to Disneyland

Who's" Your Daddy?

Bothering you, distracting you,
you swatting, you grunting,
Tickling you, bemuddling you,
you sighing, you pouting,

you forcing
me to desist,

i stealing
your note of bliss,

its always fleeting
times like these,
sweet just like
a candied lick.

i read once
and grin again,
your love lines
supremely sublime;
but 'forever', my sweet
don't you think
it's just another
divine myth?

your slightest look,
it seems will easily unclose me
though i try to close inwards
see nail marks on my palms

your softest word,
it seems will easily unloose me
though i try to pile layers
and read the book of psalms

writhing spirit,
who sees my intent?
who knows i'm a whore?
i've dreamt and i want more

my blood approves,
and imagination sings
then gravity my conscience remembers
i'm dashed upon barren ground

You know when you hear people saying.. I just fell in love with this person i met? Or perhaps they might say that the other grew on them.

"I didn't love him at first, i slowly learnt what he was like, and loved him, for what he does, for what he is."

I'm not quite sure what men say, because i havn't head them say anything besides saying that a woman is beautiful. It's like for them, that sums up everything; all the virgin and harlot in her, all the fragility or strength they think they see.

But you know what i think? I think that what they see corresponds to a deep seated need in them. All the love stories i've ever heard, right from the very first one, have made me feel that in a sense i will know him. I know its blind, going by feeling alone, but look at the smiling recognition of the blind man when tracing a face with his hands.

What if people never really meet somewhere, or just find each other somewhere auspicious; They meet again. They're in each other, have been all along.

That's what i think.

Food and sex.
Pratunam for seafood, patpong for entertainment.

A few days before while we were planning our trip, i brought up tigershows, and how much i wanted to take a peek.. It was only when a frequent go-er pointed out that it was thai girl and not tiger, that i realised how much singaporean pronunciation has damned me. I worried how i would state my intentions in thai about wanting to see, assuming that the touts would only approach the men. Shouldn't have worried.

Once down from the cab, the narrow streets were nicely split into two sides.. Patpong night market on one side and...



On the left were a string of neon lit signs. I was a little surprised it was so direct.. I always imagined a small stage with a awe struck audience. We paused to take stock of the area, and this guy came up to us with a yellow card which had been badly laminated (it looked exactly like a menu from those zhi char coffee stalls). Dishes were numbered, all starting with "pussy" and ending with "cut banana, ping pong, darts..ect"

This guy was good. After telling him we wanted to look around (yeah, we were determined to find the best or most explicit show), he pouted, gave a little cute tantrum, and proceeded to follow us the length of the street as we checked out the rest of the goods. When i got over my shock of seeing so apparently straight a man act thusly, i was able to pay proper attention to what was going inside some of the bars. We ended up going back to the first one because the sign was the biggest and brightest. Lol.

We trudged up a flight of stairs, and i felt much, much better as i saw a couple go ahead of me. We passed a lady in a booth who had nothing to say to us, and entered the place after another flight.

As we walked in, i was conscious of the lights on my white shirt, and and how the girls stared as we walked in. I was particularly attracted to one girl, but she only danced in the background poles. The rest..argh. There were fat girls, skinny girls, ugly boys who tucked themselves in so they looked like girls, dark girls, only two who looked fair and seemed to be chinese, all in unappealing bikinis. The show started, and we learned quickly it didn't do any good to be overly enthusiastic to any one girl. Or to any girl for that matter.. We saw streams of endless lights being pulled out, darts which burst from a dart holder thingy held within. We got a bit conned, and had to buy one drink for the bottle opener chick, but what's a hundred baht, right? It's good to have have small change though, because any excess here is immediately taken as a tip.

Bottle opener girl, or nang, sat on my left. She was very polite, and actually had quite sweet features. After complimenting her on her act (c'mon, anyone who can do that infront of a roomful of voyeurs..). i tried to ease out some tidbits from her, but her answers were so well rehearsed. Armfuls of gesticulating were our means of understanding each other.

"How old are you, nang?"
She thinks for a min. "18." This is said with a cheeky smile. I think she's older.
"Do you like being on the stage?" I point up at the stage.
She smiles, nods, and i decide not to press the point.
She asks where we're from, how old i am. I tell her to guess, not wanting to indulge her.
I ask if the bottle cap act is painful. I manage this by pointing to her, the cap, and making ouch sounds with a questioning lilt to my voice. Feel plenty spastic, but its interesting to see what i can get out of her. She shakes her head. Apparently, she only trained 5 mins to do that, and i feel the urge to ask if she practices in a room with all the other girls, but thank god i don't.

She comes back to sit after her act, but my interest has waned so after only a smile, i concentrate on the stage. She gets the hint, and charmingly excuses herself with her palms pressed against each other, held nose level.

Towards the end of the night, im feeling tired. The thai businessman and his two caucasian counterparts on my left are with the girl who blew darts and specialises in tweezer tricks. She looks really young, and the thai man is patting her tummy as i look over. I hear the first caucasian, an obese man who looks latino complete with frizzy big hair, ask her if she has a boyfriend or girlfriend. The second caucasian man pinches his brows and looks away. A while later, i hear a shriek, and she springs up from the chair holding her bikini top against her arms. She puts it back on, and settles inbetween the men again. She's quieter from this time on. When she's back on the stage aiming her dart at a balloon the men are holding, i see the thai man looking intently, his mouth open and i can see his thoughts flashing across his face. The lights illuminating his expressions, the girl on her back, heaving her darts in different directions of the room. She still has her bikini bottom on, but i realise she looks even younger when she's lying down. Heavy disquiet seem to have an almost tangible hold now, and i leave.

As i walk out, the girls wave, and ask for tips which i wave aside. I walk in silence for awhile, immersing myself in the markets of patpong. It's elbow room only at this time, and i notice a blind man walking slowly through. His tin is pretty empty, and i think to myself that perhaps its because everyone else has spent all they have on piracy and sex.

Our emotions are far from numb
Our engagements mean more than the sharing of flesh
As we open the minds of our souls and confess

Sitting across the table from you
There's no view of my behind
focus on my conversation
The collective thoughts of my mind

Intrigue is the theme of this murmuring well,
Where the passion that's shared
we both fail to quell.

listening to: better days
goo goo dolls

Have a secret to share?

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

listening to: dirty little secret
all american rejects


The other night i was in a room which was known to be..occupied, and i heard a loud noise which sounded like someone weeping. You know, when someone reaches that stage where they have no breath because of the intensity of the crying, and breathing makes a high pitched, indrawn keen during the inhalation ?

No prizes for guessing, i ran out of the room and waited outside the loo for chris to come out. Fuck me. I had no time to feel that spooked, it was pure reaction which propelled me out that room.

I walk around blind, believing in the painful adage 'vanity ( the equivalent of intellectual disability for me ) over death'.

There've been many times i've thought of enhancing my eyesight with surgery, but minor details perish that thought. The last time i tried contacts i couldn't get them out; it was only with the flood of desperate tears induced by a certain foreign object on my eyeball (ie: my finger) that enabled it to slide out by accident. Imagine if you could see certain things you'd rather not; say, the grime on the floor at a hawker center, or a morning after reflection in the mirror.. I was reminded again today why sometimes less than acute eyesight is great for sanity. For all the rest of the times, going bespectacled and lab coated suits me fine.

1# Walking down the street, i was suddenly blinded by a not so young woman who was sitting with her gold and silver shod feet swinging in the bright sunlight. Grabbing the arm beside me, we started together at the feet. There were... things.. jingling, shiny, plasticky things on the straps that looked like the ornaments on my tree. I stood humbled at that moment. Never will i laugh at some of things sold on the shelf, because i know there are people who actually wear them.

2# Offering extra large chewy sweeties around after a lunch, a certain male was having fun playing with the remnants of the sweet, rolling it around on his lips and making gastly faces. I stared at the sweet. It was green. The sweets i gave out were white. At least we all know he enjoys his dietary fibre.

Fine fine, forget about reading that last post already. I knew it was vague but i think i should delete it based on the number of ," What was that post about?" from those who knew what happened. If that's not a sign that there's something terribly terribly wrong with the writing...

This christmas was a bit non existant for me.. The mother asked for the christmas tree to be put up only to find that she had forgotten she had thrown it away last year. This year she and my father did a mini-lets-not-try-to-kill-the-plant-with-lights thingie, and it turned out pretty nice albeit a day before christmas. Everyone wrapped presents the night before, and i'm pretty sure none of us was into it. Shopping was so last minute i brought my stash to the christmas eve do at my friends place and did it there. Was a bit saddened by my fathers question to me.. I had laughingly told him that i knew i had inherited my wrapping skills from him when he asked if his prezzie was all right. Inclining my head and waiting for him to tell me what he meant, he continued and mentioned that he didn't know if i wld think it was good enough.. Frankly i wldn't care if i didn't get a tangible gift. Sometimes the ones that don't cost anything are the hardest to find.

New year's was novel, with a session at a friends place passed up in place of helping another with his sausages (hottie dogs) at the esplanade. I stood for 12 straight hours dealing with german wieners and smoked cheese, a rained out tentage that made wearing slip ons that much more disgusting, more onions than i have dealt with in my entire f'in life but it was not surprisingly, very satisfying. Te fireworks were *almost* amazing. Hobbling home with an assortment of balloons, lightsticks in a variety of shapes and a stray buns, i was happy that it wasn't an exercise in uselessness and forced bonheur.

It's pretty amusing but these weeks of festivity i've seen more couples yelling their lungs out at each other in public. From docile males who meekly follow an obviously pissed girlfriend stomping away, to small tug of wars to prevent one half from getting into a cab; it's all been rather heartwarming actually.