Back from K.L.
Yeah, im traumatised. There was nothing to buy. They have huge malls that are filled to the max, pretty cineplexes that are nicer then our's but they remain intrinsically.. malaysian. No offense to those reading who hail from that beautiful country, but this is after all my blog, which means the sentiments belong to..Moi. After this, im more sympathethic to the fact that people stereotype malaysian's dressing. How can they be blamed when it's the fashion buyers who should be shot?
I never realised there were so many a.j's there. Everywhere i turned, there were couples. All the trannies were malay, and the ones i cld recognise (the bottoms) were pretty much chinese. Strange, no? Guess they've evolved into a more tolerant society than ours. Must be because they generally have more to put up with.
The taxi service remained dubious, with those who had meters rare, and the ones who were scammers, plentiful. They were upfront about it as well, saying that singaporeans were stingy, and we shld give them a lil coffee money. I agree about the stingy part. It's true i know, that singaporeans generally are known as shite tourists but no one earns my coffee money unless im willing. And unless they're deserving.
Caught a movie there, the 'plex had 18 screens, and frankly, i think that one was better than ours. The seating was slightly different, ascribing to the method of markedly raised tiers, as opposed to ours. There were multiple snack counters, multiple loo's scattered around so handle the after movie crowd. The only thing that marred my experience was an old lady who exclaimed in cantonese at every.single.fucking.action sequence. When a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g happened, she wld exclaim in fucking cantonese. Yes. I was pissed. And i didn't know how to tell her to shut her trap up in cantonese, so i had to setttle for the annoying method of turning around with my finger on my lip. Spastic as hell, but at least it worked.
Sounds like my trip was a complete waste of my time, but it really wasn't. The entitlement of being a bitch today is mine, but i acknowledge that i enjoyed myself. The eating was delicious. Perhaps it was the dirt. Certainly i got better and it didn't feel like i was trying to hack my lungs out anymore. Well well.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Monday, August 15, 2005
Indolence.
Listening to: blue orchid
white strips
My nights merge into days, and my days become nights. Books litter the floor of my room, and my phone bill, like the other expenses, have gone up this mth. Umemployment both suits, and doesn't. Leisure to go out, time to stay out late, the license to spend time doing..nothing. Rolling in bed, planning the iteinery for the day. Sloth. Isn't that what they call it? *smiles lazily* Plan an impromptu trip, stay up till whenever, and sleep in till you're woozy from sleep.
It's hard to get started again once inertia sets in. Tomorrow, i'll be good.
white strips
My nights merge into days, and my days become nights. Books litter the floor of my room, and my phone bill, like the other expenses, have gone up this mth. Umemployment both suits, and doesn't. Leisure to go out, time to stay out late, the license to spend time doing..nothing. Rolling in bed, planning the iteinery for the day. Sloth. Isn't that what they call it? *smiles lazily* Plan an impromptu trip, stay up till whenever, and sleep in till you're woozy from sleep.
It's hard to get started again once inertia sets in. Tomorrow, i'll be good.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Question.
listening to: i believe in love
the darkness
Question.
If you had found an incredible friendship, is it selfish to want it to remain as such, never letting it progress beyond that?
Because i'm convinced that marriage would screw it up, like it clusterfucks up so many other things.
the darkness
Question.
If you had found an incredible friendship, is it selfish to want it to remain as such, never letting it progress beyond that?
Because i'm convinced that marriage would screw it up, like it clusterfucks up so many other things.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Skyflowers
Listening to: stellar
incubus
Standing on the shears bridge, the rows of people all along as far as the bridge allowed, I breathed in the sea breeze and smiled. Finally I get to see the fireworks. Amazing. I had worked all the way from the carpark just after mac's at the ecp; carried along by the buoyancy of the mood, and the disappointment of the night before- Stuck on the ecp's midnight jam, hearing the whistles and explosions of the fireworks but never able to see the real thing; courtesy of trees and that damned double decker bus which seemed glued to the side of the car. I had been so upset i was dejected. Until the prata house, that is.
mushrooms that make you go whoa
When the lights finally appeared, all at the same time, I couldn't remember when last something had enchanted me so very thoroughly.. They shot up from marina, the padang, and somewhere at the very edge of the east coast beach. I turned to smile, and received his sweeter surprise. After a moment, we pulled away, the better to witness the tangible fireworks that were still blooming in the night sky..
Fleur du ciel
Magick.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Proclamations
Listening to: you're beautiful
james blunt
I was, and am thinking of having a seperate area for posts which deal with religion, spirituality, all the things that make a jesus freak :) For today however, my posts remain on one. If you don't want to read, then don't!
Festival of praise ran from Fri to Sun last weekend. I've never wanted to, or felt the inclination to go, even though the idea of all the denominations celebrating together was beautiful to me. This year i felt a strange urge to want to be there, and there i was last night:)
Lion was late in picking me up, and it was already 17.30hrs but somebody, please tell me why i knew we were going to get seats *grins* Aggie didn't come, neither did mkor, so it was just us. Once in the car i realised that i wasn't wearing any contacts . Die lah. Crowds have been queuing up since noon, i'd surely be sitting right behind. Just an itty bitty speck 100 rows from the stage. What wld i do, if i wasn't able to see anything on the stage? Frick.
We reached the indoor stadium at about 1745-1800, and made a cut thru Tanjong Rhu to the North entrance. Word was that that queue was a tad bit shorter than the others, so we joined the throngs where i had a good laugh at some of the people's conversations since we were in such close proximity. How do you tell someone where you are by saying " it's the building with the gap"? So incredibly descriptive. Turns out she meant a gap in the crowds. We finally hit the blessed cool of the interior about an hour later. Lion shook his head, and said i shld have been more aggressive in keeping up with him. I cldn't. The thought of pressing against sweaty people, girls with unwashed hair, being pressed upon on all sides.. If people want to get stampeded upon, that's their problem. Peasants. Muhar!
We were pass the gate checks, looking for seats. Frantic ushers telling us to hurry, hurry, ushers telling us to move to the seating at the back of the stage.. I stood there a little, not wanting to be relegated to seeing the back of people's heads the entire evening. I slipped pass the harrassed usher once his back was turned, grabbing lion and pulling him along after me. Amazing isn't it, then we finally were found seats after a few minutes of hunting. Or were found seats by an usher, who had made some people give up reserved ones.
We got front row seats.
The gig started off on time. I won't talk much about the bands Delirious and Hillsong, which lived up to expectations, or that half way thru the crowds thronged the pre-stage area, and i was forced to stand on my chair to see anything, pygmy that i am. I won't talk about the many instances when the loudness of the beat, and the nearness of the His presence made my heart catch, and my lids heavy with feeling. I won't elaborate on how apt the 'sermon' was for me that night either.
It was like the whole evening had been tailor made to make me leave the stadium much more fulfilled that i had in a long, long time. And for that, i offer thanks.
james blunt
I was, and am thinking of having a seperate area for posts which deal with religion, spirituality, all the things that make a jesus freak :) For today however, my posts remain on one. If you don't want to read, then don't!
Festival of praise ran from Fri to Sun last weekend. I've never wanted to, or felt the inclination to go, even though the idea of all the denominations celebrating together was beautiful to me. This year i felt a strange urge to want to be there, and there i was last night:)
Lion was late in picking me up, and it was already 17.30hrs but somebody, please tell me why i knew we were going to get seats *grins* Aggie didn't come, neither did mkor, so it was just us. Once in the car i realised that i wasn't wearing any contacts . Die lah. Crowds have been queuing up since noon, i'd surely be sitting right behind. Just an itty bitty speck 100 rows from the stage. What wld i do, if i wasn't able to see anything on the stage? Frick.
We reached the indoor stadium at about 1745-1800, and made a cut thru Tanjong Rhu to the North entrance. Word was that that queue was a tad bit shorter than the others, so we joined the throngs where i had a good laugh at some of the people's conversations since we were in such close proximity. How do you tell someone where you are by saying " it's the building with the gap"? So incredibly descriptive. Turns out she meant a gap in the crowds. We finally hit the blessed cool of the interior about an hour later. Lion shook his head, and said i shld have been more aggressive in keeping up with him. I cldn't. The thought of pressing against sweaty people, girls with unwashed hair, being pressed upon on all sides.. If people want to get stampeded upon, that's their problem. Peasants. Muhar!
We were pass the gate checks, looking for seats. Frantic ushers telling us to hurry, hurry, ushers telling us to move to the seating at the back of the stage.. I stood there a little, not wanting to be relegated to seeing the back of people's heads the entire evening. I slipped pass the harrassed usher once his back was turned, grabbing lion and pulling him along after me. Amazing isn't it, then we finally were found seats after a few minutes of hunting. Or were found seats by an usher, who had made some people give up reserved ones.
We got front row seats.
The gig started off on time. I won't talk much about the bands Delirious and Hillsong, which lived up to expectations, or that half way thru the crowds thronged the pre-stage area, and i was forced to stand on my chair to see anything, pygmy that i am. I won't talk about the many instances when the loudness of the beat, and the nearness of the His presence made my heart catch, and my lids heavy with feeling. I won't elaborate on how apt the 'sermon' was for me that night either.
It was like the whole evening had been tailor made to make me leave the stadium much more fulfilled that i had in a long, long time. And for that, i offer thanks.
Ennui
Guess what? I'm not working tomorrow, and probably will have the next week off as well. Gosh. As always, with excess time, i stoop to the mundane, and the useless. Attend. *brandishes pointer*
You have moderate sub tendencies. You enjoy being
told what to do, though the domme in you kicks
and screams at times. You can be a brat,
deliberately provoking a dominant. You need to
be reminded of your place at times, bitch.
Fact or fiction? Startlingly accurate.
Are you Dominant or Submissive?
brought to you by Quizilla
You're Exotic Dancer Barbie. You have some moves,
and will do anything for a few bucks. Take it
off girl, but keep it PG-13 please.
Phlusse.
If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla
obsessive compulsive
Lily wld have been thrilled if i had these qualities in abundance. I left before it became a full fledged..what else? Compulsion.
Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are a child's kiss. Completely sweet and
innocent and pure. You mean no harm and only
love in your sweet kisses.
We'll leave the analysis to those who know what they're talking about, shall we?
What kind of kiss are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Lies, all of it!!
What does love mean to you?
brought to you by Quizilla
~ I originally wanted to write about a something a little closer to heart, but for now, must mush up the stairs to my bed. Night night, world :) ~
You have moderate sub tendencies. You enjoy being
told what to do, though the domme in you kicks
and screams at times. You can be a brat,
deliberately provoking a dominant. You need to
be reminded of your place at times, bitch.
Fact or fiction? Startlingly accurate.
Are you Dominant or Submissive?
brought to you by Quizilla
You're Exotic Dancer Barbie. You have some moves,
and will do anything for a few bucks. Take it
off girl, but keep it PG-13 please.
Phlusse.
If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla
obsessive compulsive
Lily wld have been thrilled if i had these qualities in abundance. I left before it became a full fledged..what else? Compulsion.
Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are a child's kiss. Completely sweet and
innocent and pure. You mean no harm and only
love in your sweet kisses.
We'll leave the analysis to those who know what they're talking about, shall we?
What kind of kiss are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Lies, all of it!!
What does love mean to you?
brought to you by Quizilla
~ I originally wanted to write about a something a little closer to heart, but for now, must mush up the stairs to my bed. Night night, world :) ~
Saturday, August 06, 2005
One last look..
Last glimpses..
Daily routines- never boring, always traumatising.
Sweet effort.
I have no idea why he's grimacing. No bits of mine were astray.
A view from a window. Mine.
Thanks for the memories.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Leave taking.
My memories will always be with me, wherever i go.
Having snuck off early on thursday, k picked me up, and we went to collect the flowers and balloons that i had ordered. Coming back to an empty office, i got to work. i wanted calla lillies, but didn't have enough time to wait. I settled on gerbera's, their lively, solid colours matching the stationery i was using.. It was only later i realised that they symbolise love of absent friends. Sigh. And so it began. Letters and gerberas left on keyboards. The gerbera's were not packaged elaborately, with only a single ribbon round their stems.. As i worked, i looked at secret bear, the care bear that sher had left with me for my last night. It's strange so much done can be squeezed into only a few paragraphs, but for now im wrung out, tired and aching in every way to write much, or want to elaborate more. As i wrote in the cards, every now and then i would look out, trying to memorise the view. The sun set which has always hypnotized. At the myna's and occasional crow, their whirling, perfect synchronised flight. Earlier in the day, adel had pressed a package into my hands, petting my hair and shoulders, yet again making it difficult for me. I hate goodbyes. So much to say, so little inclination to write about them now.
Friday loomed early and cheery After a torturous car rally, dinner at steve's house with the beautiful grounds and sonmewhat damp drinks at tango, i was ready for home. My cheeks were numb with all the smiling at the cameras, and i was almost exhausted form the day, but bed just didnt want to beckon. I hit my bed at about 5 that morning, but i didn't mind, because some nights just aren't meant to be spent alone.
It still hasnt ended. Coming home today, i checked my mail to find mail from colleagues that only made me run to get the nearest tissue/toilet roll.
Dammit.
"Don't want to leave, but we both know sometimes it's better to go. Somehow I know we'll meet again, not sure quite where and I don't know just when you're in my heart, so until then, smile, don't want to cry saying goodbye." -The Muppets
Having snuck off early on thursday, k picked me up, and we went to collect the flowers and balloons that i had ordered. Coming back to an empty office, i got to work. i wanted calla lillies, but didn't have enough time to wait. I settled on gerbera's, their lively, solid colours matching the stationery i was using.. It was only later i realised that they symbolise love of absent friends. Sigh. And so it began. Letters and gerberas left on keyboards. The gerbera's were not packaged elaborately, with only a single ribbon round their stems.. As i worked, i looked at secret bear, the care bear that sher had left with me for my last night. It's strange so much done can be squeezed into only a few paragraphs, but for now im wrung out, tired and aching in every way to write much, or want to elaborate more. As i wrote in the cards, every now and then i would look out, trying to memorise the view. The sun set which has always hypnotized. At the myna's and occasional crow, their whirling, perfect synchronised flight. Earlier in the day, adel had pressed a package into my hands, petting my hair and shoulders, yet again making it difficult for me. I hate goodbyes. So much to say, so little inclination to write about them now.
Friday loomed early and cheery After a torturous car rally, dinner at steve's house with the beautiful grounds and sonmewhat damp drinks at tango, i was ready for home. My cheeks were numb with all the smiling at the cameras, and i was almost exhausted form the day, but bed just didnt want to beckon. I hit my bed at about 5 that morning, but i didn't mind, because some nights just aren't meant to be spent alone.
It still hasnt ended. Coming home today, i checked my mail to find mail from colleagues that only made me run to get the nearest tissue/toilet roll.
Dammit.
"Don't want to leave, but we both know sometimes it's better to go. Somehow I know we'll meet again, not sure quite where and I don't know just when you're in my heart, so until then, smile, don't want to cry saying goodbye." -The Muppets
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Dawning.
Listening to: office pitter patter and paper shuffles
Stabbed my subjects arm. Waited for him to stop bleeding from the pricks. Wicked at it while he looked on in fascination. I looked at him and smiled while letting him examine the blood sodden filter. He gave me a toothy grin, he of the nice voice and veiny arms, and remarked that i had to encourage his arm.
Inflictor of pain : "What?"
Inflictee: "You've got to encourage him, ask him to stop bleeding.."
I.o.P:" Him? Don't you mean..it?"
While concentrating on his arm, i hear this through my haze of concentration.
Inflictee: " Yar. The prick. You've got to encourage him"
I miss the times when i was young enough to enjoy conversation without an uncrossable long kang (read: gutter) in my brain.
After i leave, the office will also be slightly more goof proof, not just a small mercy when in an environment with a great deal of sharps and biohazards. It's no secret that i belong to a special group of the handicapped, known as the terminally klutzy. I havn't fallen flat on my face for quite some time now, so the universe must be saving the moment for a more embarrassing one when it can savour it. It deviousness can be observed when you see how it has gifted me with intermittent gracefullness, all the better for marked contrast.
Lookee this - the colour of pain.
See the girl in the left? Yeah. That, my friend, is something i can probably relate to very intimately, given enough time.
Besides finding like minded people who share my penchant for the awkwardly painful, i've also plumbed the depths of employee uselessness. Having days when one simply can't do anything work related, it was to my sweet, sweet delight that i discovered i had colleagues who were capable of being just as innane, or worse. No images will be displayed to protect the names of the guilty. The fact that i looked halloween ready in them, is of course, of no consequence. But honestly.. we could have done this and i bet no one would have batted an eye. I could also bet that they would join in. Well..Some of them anyway.
Of course all wasn't fun and play. Long long hours when deadlines were near, much eye rollin and furi0us frantic whispering in the halls of the facility were more than common.. but i guess every ending is always bitter sweet..
Sigh.
Stabbed my subjects arm. Waited for him to stop bleeding from the pricks. Wicked at it while he looked on in fascination. I looked at him and smiled while letting him examine the blood sodden filter. He gave me a toothy grin, he of the nice voice and veiny arms, and remarked that i had to encourage his arm.
Inflictor of pain : "What?"
Inflictee: "You've got to encourage him, ask him to stop bleeding.."
I.o.P:" Him? Don't you mean..it?"
While concentrating on his arm, i hear this through my haze of concentration.
Inflictee: " Yar. The prick. You've got to encourage him"
I miss the times when i was young enough to enjoy conversation without an uncrossable long kang (read: gutter) in my brain.
After i leave, the office will also be slightly more goof proof, not just a small mercy when in an environment with a great deal of sharps and biohazards. It's no secret that i belong to a special group of the handicapped, known as the terminally klutzy. I havn't fallen flat on my face for quite some time now, so the universe must be saving the moment for a more embarrassing one when it can savour it. It deviousness can be observed when you see how it has gifted me with intermittent gracefullness, all the better for marked contrast.
Lookee this - the colour of pain.
See the girl in the left? Yeah. That, my friend, is something i can probably relate to very intimately, given enough time.
Besides finding like minded people who share my penchant for the awkwardly painful, i've also plumbed the depths of employee uselessness. Having days when one simply can't do anything work related, it was to my sweet, sweet delight that i discovered i had colleagues who were capable of being just as innane, or worse. No images will be displayed to protect the names of the guilty. The fact that i looked halloween ready in them, is of course, of no consequence. But honestly.. we could have done this and i bet no one would have batted an eye. I could also bet that they would join in. Well..Some of them anyway.
Of course all wasn't fun and play. Long long hours when deadlines were near, much eye rollin and furi0us frantic whispering in the halls of the facility were more than common.. but i guess every ending is always bitter sweet..
Sigh.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
heavyheartedness
listening to: every day you've been away
Bebel gilberto
I saw a disturbance making its way through the throngs. Patiently, knowing it must make its way past me, i stilled my companion and schooled myself to alertness. Holding my yet unpaid item to my chest, i first saw a little old lady, hair all mussed up, with an apologetic smile limping her way to the queue behind me.
First came the mutters of a man, then the man himself. Shorter than i am, with the meaningless smile of the intellectually disabled, he was scratching all over with insatiable fingers. Intelligible mutters and little twitches, that emaciatedness of frame.. Suddenly a great heavyness overcame me. This old lady, way past the age when she should be caring for a child, lines of her sacrifices etched so deeply all over.. why should she be apologetic about bringing her son, now a little past middle aged, into the public? I felt a great urge to shake the auntie in front of me, she with the horrible sneer and look of disgust as she looked at the pair. What gave her the right to think she was better than the old lady who probably had to look at the most basic needs of her child?
All around people were staring, staring. Didn't they realise that the man was a person and not an oddity to be gaped at? Don't parents teach their children manners these days? I am not asking for no looks at all, but for gods sake, not stares that make a man and his mother a freakshow.
Most of all, what pains is me is that the old lady had to not only get used to unkind stares, but also feel that she had to feel bad in any way at all. That apologetic smile, that dipped head, that gnarled figure..
I think on this, and yes, im greatful for everything that has been gifted me, no matter how small a blessing it is. My burdens are considered a "norm", my appearance nothing to be freaked out about. Relatively anyway.
If there was one thing i could ask of the people who read this, it is to emphatise with those who are less earthly fortunate. So maybe the person is a con artist. Will a dollar or 5 hurt you? Will it mean as much to you as to the lady selling those overpriced tissues? Will a smile at a person who is obviously poorer kill you?
It means nothing to feel a little more human once in a while.
Bebel gilberto
I saw a disturbance making its way through the throngs. Patiently, knowing it must make its way past me, i stilled my companion and schooled myself to alertness. Holding my yet unpaid item to my chest, i first saw a little old lady, hair all mussed up, with an apologetic smile limping her way to the queue behind me.
First came the mutters of a man, then the man himself. Shorter than i am, with the meaningless smile of the intellectually disabled, he was scratching all over with insatiable fingers. Intelligible mutters and little twitches, that emaciatedness of frame.. Suddenly a great heavyness overcame me. This old lady, way past the age when she should be caring for a child, lines of her sacrifices etched so deeply all over.. why should she be apologetic about bringing her son, now a little past middle aged, into the public? I felt a great urge to shake the auntie in front of me, she with the horrible sneer and look of disgust as she looked at the pair. What gave her the right to think she was better than the old lady who probably had to look at the most basic needs of her child?
All around people were staring, staring. Didn't they realise that the man was a person and not an oddity to be gaped at? Don't parents teach their children manners these days? I am not asking for no looks at all, but for gods sake, not stares that make a man and his mother a freakshow.
Most of all, what pains is me is that the old lady had to not only get used to unkind stares, but also feel that she had to feel bad in any way at all. That apologetic smile, that dipped head, that gnarled figure..
I think on this, and yes, im greatful for everything that has been gifted me, no matter how small a blessing it is. My burdens are considered a "norm", my appearance nothing to be freaked out about. Relatively anyway.
If there was one thing i could ask of the people who read this, it is to emphatise with those who are less earthly fortunate. So maybe the person is a con artist. Will a dollar or 5 hurt you? Will it mean as much to you as to the lady selling those overpriced tissues? Will a smile at a person who is obviously poorer kill you?
It means nothing to feel a little more human once in a while.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Intrepidity
Listening to: Feels just like it should
Jamiroquai
I'm not elated at the news. The second interview with the opthalmologist is on monday, provided i can make it.
Last wednesday, i stepped onto the 4th level of the centre. Everyone was coiffed and heeled. Glancing through the forms i had to fill out, i grimaced when i realised that i would have to fill up the equivalent of my entire bloody resume. ~Fuck me~ Let them try reading my handwriting. That'll have them reverting to my c.v.
I've never dreaded interviews. Nervousness is a problem that disintegrates when i've started talking.
I greeted my iinterviewer by name, having had the receptionist think i was genuinely interested in her day.She had leaked the number of applicants so far, the name of my interviewer, and how long they had been looking. Karen, the HR manager, was youngish, snappy and suffered no fools. Her questions came fast and i could feel her weighing every reply. At the end of the interview- she told me that i might not have the job satisfaction i craved since the interaction with the patients were far and few inbetween. The blunt woman also mentioned that she had already seen someone that day whom she had her eye on.
I feel like.. i've been tossed a candy bar as a consolation prize.
A year ago i would have inclined my head and left it as that. This time after a bit, Karen gave me a wry grin. The second interview was mine.
I laugh as i remember what i told her. She must think me an impertinent chit. I had zero temper when i first started in the hospitals. I had more tolerance when i first started at the facility. I wonder what kind of person i'll be at 30?
Jamiroquai
I'm not elated at the news. The second interview with the opthalmologist is on monday, provided i can make it.
Last wednesday, i stepped onto the 4th level of the centre. Everyone was coiffed and heeled. Glancing through the forms i had to fill out, i grimaced when i realised that i would have to fill up the equivalent of my entire bloody resume. ~Fuck me~ Let them try reading my handwriting. That'll have them reverting to my c.v.
I've never dreaded interviews. Nervousness is a problem that disintegrates when i've started talking.
I greeted my iinterviewer by name, having had the receptionist think i was genuinely interested in her day.She had leaked the number of applicants so far, the name of my interviewer, and how long they had been looking. Karen, the HR manager, was youngish, snappy and suffered no fools. Her questions came fast and i could feel her weighing every reply. At the end of the interview- she told me that i might not have the job satisfaction i craved since the interaction with the patients were far and few inbetween. The blunt woman also mentioned that she had already seen someone that day whom she had her eye on.
I feel like.. i've been tossed a candy bar as a consolation prize.
A year ago i would have inclined my head and left it as that. This time after a bit, Karen gave me a wry grin. The second interview was mine.
I laugh as i remember what i told her. She must think me an impertinent chit. I had zero temper when i first started in the hospitals. I had more tolerance when i first started at the facility. I wonder what kind of person i'll be at 30?
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Dichotomy
It's striking me more and more. The duplicity of the human nature.
From reinforcement as a child, and observations when an adolescent, your behaviour is moulded; as mine is. Realizing that race can sometimes be a double edged sword, the face of the byproduct that is myself is demure, polite and apparently respectful ( to a certain degree ) . Hardly the wild child an eurasian girl might be stereotyped to be. Older now, i'm less conscious of what people think, and what the herd thinks of me is anyone's guess.
People are fooled by fascades of civility and charm all the time, and i am no exception. Often it seems to me that the people most harmless are the ones who might, at first glance, seem terribly abrasive and tactless. When these speak- people roll their eyes, give knowing smiles and seem to take it all in their stride. After all, we already know what they're like.
But what about the ones who always appear level headed and unprejudiced? Those who flinch at brash displays, moderate their own behaviour and temper their speech to genial civility? They seem to be as moral as they come but.. when things happen, we're shocked and dismayed at the displays sometimes put up for no one's benefit.
Is undesirable behaviour more shocking in someone 'quieter' because of the inevitable comparison that follows? We shake our heads, thinking they were the last people we'd think who indulge in such activity. Or do people who are generally outwardly rude/disgusting have more opportunity to air their grievances?
What's your tolerence level for being disgusted?
*warning- pics aren't of the eye candy variety*
From reinforcement as a child, and observations when an adolescent, your behaviour is moulded; as mine is. Realizing that race can sometimes be a double edged sword, the face of the byproduct that is myself is demure, polite and apparently respectful ( to a certain degree ) . Hardly the wild child an eurasian girl might be stereotyped to be. Older now, i'm less conscious of what people think, and what the herd thinks of me is anyone's guess.
People are fooled by fascades of civility and charm all the time, and i am no exception. Often it seems to me that the people most harmless are the ones who might, at first glance, seem terribly abrasive and tactless. When these speak- people roll their eyes, give knowing smiles and seem to take it all in their stride. After all, we already know what they're like.
But what about the ones who always appear level headed and unprejudiced? Those who flinch at brash displays, moderate their own behaviour and temper their speech to genial civility? They seem to be as moral as they come but.. when things happen, we're shocked and dismayed at the displays sometimes put up for no one's benefit.
Is undesirable behaviour more shocking in someone 'quieter' because of the inevitable comparison that follows? We shake our heads, thinking they were the last people we'd think who indulge in such activity. Or do people who are generally outwardly rude/disgusting have more opportunity to air their grievances?
What's your tolerence level for being disgusted?
*warning- pics aren't of the eye candy variety*
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Faith.
I know it's a cornball thing but love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? I say fall head over heels. Find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart.
Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is.. there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love -- well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try.
Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.
Then again, i'll write when i've actually fallen :) That's would be a first.
Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is.. there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love -- well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try.
Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.
Then again, i'll write when i've actually fallen :) That's would be a first.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Profanation.
Its been some time since i wrote on my dreams.
They lacked the vividness they used to infuse into my night; those nocturnal escapades into the depths of my anesthetized consciousness.
Over the weekend i had lucid dreams, recurringly of snakes. I've never been afraid of them, and it gave me a thrill to handle them when opportunity gifted me, watching the nervousness of the others around me while simultaneously looking at the beauty of the reptilian form. Smooth coils of muscle, latent power on call, all hooded eyes and small flickers. Besides, more often than not, they look half dead draped on mine , or on the arms of others. The small ones in my dream were all tiny, well camouflaged on the ground. Tracing patterns that seemingly none except myself could see, i found the head only to have them rear up and sink their fangs into the smooth flesh of my open palms. It was the same all through out; I'd scout, consciously aware that well concealed as they all were, i'd find them for sure.
Most maintain that the key to oneirology lies in symbology. Some are of the view that the interpretation lies in your own belief of what the symbol denotes to you. Others insist that a key set of meanings mean the same to all. Strangely, on animals, both concur. If a snake is to mark you, a betrayal is about to happen. I laughed, and shook my head. I'd store it up to scare people who offered up their deliverings of their unconscious to me. Whether it be a self-fulfilling prophecy or not, the supposed meaning of the dream did come true for me on monday.
Slither away. Your angel wings don't seem to be working so well anymore.
Promises all laid out, repeatedly asked till i gave in. Cave in i did finally, but again i'm reminded that words are fallible. Men have always been frail. Emotions are infirm.
They lacked the vividness they used to infuse into my night; those nocturnal escapades into the depths of my anesthetized consciousness.
Over the weekend i had lucid dreams, recurringly of snakes. I've never been afraid of them, and it gave me a thrill to handle them when opportunity gifted me, watching the nervousness of the others around me while simultaneously looking at the beauty of the reptilian form. Smooth coils of muscle, latent power on call, all hooded eyes and small flickers. Besides, more often than not, they look half dead draped on mine , or on the arms of others. The small ones in my dream were all tiny, well camouflaged on the ground. Tracing patterns that seemingly none except myself could see, i found the head only to have them rear up and sink their fangs into the smooth flesh of my open palms. It was the same all through out; I'd scout, consciously aware that well concealed as they all were, i'd find them for sure.
Most maintain that the key to oneirology lies in symbology. Some are of the view that the interpretation lies in your own belief of what the symbol denotes to you. Others insist that a key set of meanings mean the same to all. Strangely, on animals, both concur. If a snake is to mark you, a betrayal is about to happen. I laughed, and shook my head. I'd store it up to scare people who offered up their deliverings of their unconscious to me. Whether it be a self-fulfilling prophecy or not, the supposed meaning of the dream did come true for me on monday.
Slither away. Your angel wings don't seem to be working so well anymore.
Promises all laid out, repeatedly asked till i gave in. Cave in i did finally, but again i'm reminded that words are fallible. Men have always been frail. Emotions are infirm.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Listening to: Silent all these years
tori amos
You cannot see the walls that divide your hand
From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it.
You cannot see the walls because they are glass,
And glass is nothing until you try to pass it.
Beat on it if you like, but not too hard,
For glass will break you even while you break it.
Shout, and the sound will be broken and driven backwards,
For glass, though clear as water, is deaf as granite.
This fraudulent inhibition is cunning:
wise men content themselves
with breathing patterns on it.
tori amos
You cannot see the walls that divide your hand
From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it.
You cannot see the walls because they are glass,
And glass is nothing until you try to pass it.
Beat on it if you like, but not too hard,
For glass will break you even while you break it.
Shout, and the sound will be broken and driven backwards,
For glass, though clear as water, is deaf as granite.
This fraudulent inhibition is cunning:
wise men content themselves
with breathing patterns on it.
Of men and hair.
Bumped into my old hairdresser, and felt like i was meeting an ex boyfriend. Not that i treat them badly of course, being the nice person that i am. Right. Moving on.
This one was an exception. The last time he was doing my hair, he had found out that i had broken up with then current squeeze. Later he got a little too enthusiastic while he was cutting my fringe, and not knowing what to do, i ended up folding my arms across my chest under that protective sheet and feeling jittery. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but it was enough for me to swear never to go back to him.
Back to the awkward meeting. When i saw him, i felt..terrible. He smiled, and our eyes met. I couldn't just walk away, so i walked slowly to him, smiling weakly. He eyeballed my hair, and oh god.. He noticed everything that i had done to it! Perm? Check. New fringe? Check. Sideswept straggly ends that make me look just a teeny bit younger? Check. My toes curled inwards as he noted each little detail, and for some reason i felt..unfaithful. Treacherous.
I spurned my hairdresser, and im still feeling guilty.
This one was an exception. The last time he was doing my hair, he had found out that i had broken up with then current squeeze. Later he got a little too enthusiastic while he was cutting my fringe, and not knowing what to do, i ended up folding my arms across my chest under that protective sheet and feeling jittery. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but it was enough for me to swear never to go back to him.
Back to the awkward meeting. When i saw him, i felt..terrible. He smiled, and our eyes met. I couldn't just walk away, so i walked slowly to him, smiling weakly. He eyeballed my hair, and oh god.. He noticed everything that i had done to it! Perm? Check. New fringe? Check. Sideswept straggly ends that make me look just a teeny bit younger? Check. My toes curled inwards as he noted each little detail, and for some reason i felt..unfaithful. Treacherous.
I spurned my hairdresser, and im still feeling guilty.
Of moving on.
Listening to: Autograph
tears
On friday i made a decision, and now i have slightly more than a month left at nus.
How apt that my last post was one of transition. Has it been almost a year already?
A lightness of step, a release of tension from my shoulders and laughter that went on through the day. Tears as well, knowing that i'll be leaving new found people i've come to enjoy being with. God. Hopefully i don't cry when i leave.
tears
On friday i made a decision, and now i have slightly more than a month left at nus.
How apt that my last post was one of transition. Has it been almost a year already?
A lightness of step, a release of tension from my shoulders and laughter that went on through the day. Tears as well, knowing that i'll be leaving new found people i've come to enjoy being with. God. Hopefully i don't cry when i leave.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Of settling
Listening to: Bad day
Daniel powter
Gave a impromtu mini tour to angel, and my workarea was an attraction on the way to dinner.
His expression was one of shock- He couldn't believe i had been at the same place for so long without leaving any sign of "me" on my desk. No pictures, no cutesy girly identifiers ( i'm not that kind of girl), no mess.. in short- Nothing. Of course i had the usual trays and assorted papers in a stack, but i had left no mark; if not for my handwriting on an article lying around, he would never guessed it was mine.
"No personality", i retorted.
When i first moved into my little area by the window, i had a gazillion things i wanted to do to pretty up the area. They never came to fruition. I was musing a little, and it's true that it takes a long time for me to want to personalize anything. Of course i love an area that i can call mine, and my privacy is tantamount to sacred , but I always feel like i'm passing by, that soon the urge to move will strike and less belongings will make it easier to relocate. Also, the more things you display, the more people will be able to analyse you. What? Call me anal, but it's true.
The same goes for everything else. I know once i start to feel at home, soon everything will be one big mess, and the cleaning up will be shite.
Sometimes it's easier to compartmentalise. I'm just a lazy emotional vagabond :)
Daniel powter
Gave a impromtu mini tour to angel, and my workarea was an attraction on the way to dinner.
His expression was one of shock- He couldn't believe i had been at the same place for so long without leaving any sign of "me" on my desk. No pictures, no cutesy girly identifiers ( i'm not that kind of girl), no mess.. in short- Nothing. Of course i had the usual trays and assorted papers in a stack, but i had left no mark; if not for my handwriting on an article lying around, he would never guessed it was mine.
"No personality", i retorted.
When i first moved into my little area by the window, i had a gazillion things i wanted to do to pretty up the area. They never came to fruition. I was musing a little, and it's true that it takes a long time for me to want to personalize anything. Of course i love an area that i can call mine, and my privacy is tantamount to sacred , but I always feel like i'm passing by, that soon the urge to move will strike and less belongings will make it easier to relocate. Also, the more things you display, the more people will be able to analyse you. What? Call me anal, but it's true.
The same goes for everything else. I know once i start to feel at home, soon everything will be one big mess, and the cleaning up will be shite.
Sometimes it's easier to compartmentalise. I'm just a lazy emotional vagabond :)
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Pringles when you need a salt boost
The anticipation of the trip ahead when the plane takes off
Being able to sit in a car in p.j's and being bought whatever i need. Just sit and jaga the music dial, princess.
Listening to palm leaves rustling on a cool night along the shores.
Being hugged when you least expect it.
Making a baby smile
simply sleeping with that someone you trust and know
Of moments simple
these are the ones i like best
Of stolen laughter
My mind is in the gutter. What would you think if you heard these?
*1*
Rushing along the corridoor one morning, i spotted J with a cabinet which had been overturned. I called out to him with greeting and asked him what he was doing. Brandishing a screwdriver, he innocently replied," I'm screwing! Very tiring. "
*2*
Overheard from the corridoor while with a subject. Our lab tech was talking loudly to one of the nurses in the room while i was with a subject. She was supposed to take someone's blood.
" Aye, Mr I is waiting in the room waiting for you to suck him!"
Crude, but sometimes when you're stressed, small things set you off.
*3*
A reply to me while offering someone a male friend a seat. This time i had my mind dumped back in the gutter. Not my fault.
"No thanks, i think best standing up"
I must have had a pretty spaced out look on my face because he added the next line worriedly.
"Erm, no pun intended ok?"
*1*
Rushing along the corridoor one morning, i spotted J with a cabinet which had been overturned. I called out to him with greeting and asked him what he was doing. Brandishing a screwdriver, he innocently replied," I'm screwing! Very tiring. "
*2*
Overheard from the corridoor while with a subject. Our lab tech was talking loudly to one of the nurses in the room while i was with a subject. She was supposed to take someone's blood.
" Aye, Mr I is waiting in the room waiting for you to suck him!"
Crude, but sometimes when you're stressed, small things set you off.
*3*
A reply to me while offering someone a male friend a seat. This time i had my mind dumped back in the gutter. Not my fault.
"No thanks, i think best standing up"
I must have had a pretty spaced out look on my face because he added the next line worriedly.
"Erm, no pun intended ok?"
Of heroes and shrews
Listening to: Mariah Carey
We belong together
Last week spawned a whole new chapter in humiliation, workwise.
The investigator for my two studies is a physician who is reknowned for his curtness, directness and impatience. If you have have something to say to him, you damned well better get your rationale and facts right, BEFORE you go to him with issues. Mincing around with words simply isn't his style. Let's call him baby blues, because he has one of the most penetrating looks i have seen. I've never been afraid of him, and i've even felt a little affinity with him strangely. I sense a softening in him whenever he talks to me, and he has never snapped at me, or spoken a harsh word. Thank god for small mercies in my unit, i certainly need them. He's always running around, finding him in the office is like a treasure hunt. I've even resorted to waiting outside the loo on a tip from a patient. He was surprised, yes, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
In one of my routine visits to hunt him down for documentation issues, i was asked to bring with me a question pertaining to one of my subjects. To cut a long story short, he said he would get back to me on the issue. He also asked whose question it was and i told him that it was a collective decision formed by the team after discussion. When asked what i thought of the question, i shrugged and said that as this was my first study, if i received advice which was better than my own decisions i would consider them. To my flushingly great chargrin, my team leader came to me in the afternoon. B.blues had stalked to her desk after my visit to him (deigning to come into our staff office) and demanded to have a talk with her.
Apparently he guessed, correctly, that my earlier question to him had come from her. Frustrated because he thought he had been through the same issues with her, he had come to 'straighten out a few issues'. He told her off, telling her that as protocol leader i should be given more leeway in my work and not have to be a messenger for her.
To his credit, he's observant and nothing if not sharp. Managment style is overbearing, to say the least. But going behind my back and telling her this? Even if i needed a knight, i'd not find one in my work place. Torn between anger and remembering he was trying to be nice, i decided not to say anything to him just yet.
That's not the worst bit. Abovementioned team leader (TL) sent off a scathing mail to him, cc'ing it to his manager and my big boss. In it she stated that he was unreasonable to his staff among other things. My name was in it.
What the hell is wrong with these people? Are they not capable of settling grudges and talking to each other in a civil and mature manner? For fuck's sake.
i'm so bloody mortified. For the rest of the week i couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. He probably thinks im an ungrateful bitch. Spoke to him today, i felt like he wanted to ask me what the mail was about, but sher was around, and he settled for a work conversation instead. I looked into his eyes, and there was nothing there except a tiredness and tightness around his eyes.
Screw managment. Screw emotional women bosses and screw men who think they have to have heroes!
We belong together
Last week spawned a whole new chapter in humiliation, workwise.
The investigator for my two studies is a physician who is reknowned for his curtness, directness and impatience. If you have have something to say to him, you damned well better get your rationale and facts right, BEFORE you go to him with issues. Mincing around with words simply isn't his style. Let's call him baby blues, because he has one of the most penetrating looks i have seen. I've never been afraid of him, and i've even felt a little affinity with him strangely. I sense a softening in him whenever he talks to me, and he has never snapped at me, or spoken a harsh word. Thank god for small mercies in my unit, i certainly need them. He's always running around, finding him in the office is like a treasure hunt. I've even resorted to waiting outside the loo on a tip from a patient. He was surprised, yes, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
In one of my routine visits to hunt him down for documentation issues, i was asked to bring with me a question pertaining to one of my subjects. To cut a long story short, he said he would get back to me on the issue. He also asked whose question it was and i told him that it was a collective decision formed by the team after discussion. When asked what i thought of the question, i shrugged and said that as this was my first study, if i received advice which was better than my own decisions i would consider them. To my flushingly great chargrin, my team leader came to me in the afternoon. B.blues had stalked to her desk after my visit to him (deigning to come into our staff office) and demanded to have a talk with her.
Apparently he guessed, correctly, that my earlier question to him had come from her. Frustrated because he thought he had been through the same issues with her, he had come to 'straighten out a few issues'. He told her off, telling her that as protocol leader i should be given more leeway in my work and not have to be a messenger for her.
To his credit, he's observant and nothing if not sharp. Managment style is overbearing, to say the least. But going behind my back and telling her this? Even if i needed a knight, i'd not find one in my work place. Torn between anger and remembering he was trying to be nice, i decided not to say anything to him just yet.
That's not the worst bit. Abovementioned team leader (TL) sent off a scathing mail to him, cc'ing it to his manager and my big boss. In it she stated that he was unreasonable to his staff among other things. My name was in it.
What the hell is wrong with these people? Are they not capable of settling grudges and talking to each other in a civil and mature manner? For fuck's sake.
i'm so bloody mortified. For the rest of the week i couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. He probably thinks im an ungrateful bitch. Spoke to him today, i felt like he wanted to ask me what the mail was about, but sher was around, and he settled for a work conversation instead. I looked into his eyes, and there was nothing there except a tiredness and tightness around his eyes.
Screw managment. Screw emotional women bosses and screw men who think they have to have heroes!
Monday, June 06, 2005
Of floozies.
I had a hunch this would happen. Went to work at 7.30am only to find i have the day off. So that's from the east to Buona Vista, and from the bloody hospital to the east again. I'd map it out but Picassa/Hello does't seem to want to play with me today.
Get with it, faith, get with the damn program already.
On the other hand a little fun when the rest are working wouldn't be remiss :)
Get with it, faith, get with the damn program already.
On the other hand a little fun when the rest are working wouldn't be remiss :)
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Of surprises.
Listening to: Carnaval
lisa ono
I love, love surprises. Me and the rest of the population of women. We're female like that. Occasionally though, i get a surprise that makes my toes curl, and the rest of me want to hurl.
I noticed a rather traumatised envelope on the dining room table the other day. After eyeballing it, i decide to pick it up, and give it a more thorough visual molest. Turning the envelope over to the front after staring at tattered backing, i noted the american stamps, and after a long silent moment, my name. That wasn't the most interesting bit though. The year the postal services had stamped on the letter? 1997.
I felt terrible. The letter had come, albeit a little late, but it had. And i had doubted. The letter was written in touching earnestness, asking me to do adolescentish things. Write back. Think of him. Wait for him. Did i want the pictures? Do i have a boy friend? I placed a hand on my churning tum and closed my eyes to picture the gangly writer. Earnest.
Damn. This is a bit much. And what happened to delay it's arrival so? Still. Courtesy demands a reply. Perhaps when im 32 i'll get a reply.
i miss earnestness.
lisa ono
I love, love surprises. Me and the rest of the population of women. We're female like that. Occasionally though, i get a surprise that makes my toes curl, and the rest of me want to hurl.
I noticed a rather traumatised envelope on the dining room table the other day. After eyeballing it, i decide to pick it up, and give it a more thorough visual molest. Turning the envelope over to the front after staring at tattered backing, i noted the american stamps, and after a long silent moment, my name. That wasn't the most interesting bit though. The year the postal services had stamped on the letter? 1997.
I felt terrible. The letter had come, albeit a little late, but it had. And i had doubted. The letter was written in touching earnestness, asking me to do adolescentish things. Write back. Think of him. Wait for him. Did i want the pictures? Do i have a boy friend? I placed a hand on my churning tum and closed my eyes to picture the gangly writer. Earnest.
Damn. This is a bit much. And what happened to delay it's arrival so? Still. Courtesy demands a reply. Perhaps when im 32 i'll get a reply.
i miss earnestness.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Of love of simplicity
Listening to: World
new order
While deciding whether to skewer fish or rip shrimp, i turned to look at what fi had pointed out. What i saw made me smile, and was alot more notice worthy than the saddam look alike i had leered (not the right word, but we'll move on) at a table behind. To my left was a table with 3 rather young children, one still in a high chair. In between telling the oldest to shuddup, and the others to eat up, the parents were talking to each other in a language all their own. Under the table, where no one should have noticed, a little mutual.. footsie was taking place.
I smiled. Hope for all the jaded lovers after all.
new order
While deciding whether to skewer fish or rip shrimp, i turned to look at what fi had pointed out. What i saw made me smile, and was alot more notice worthy than the saddam look alike i had leered (not the right word, but we'll move on) at a table behind. To my left was a table with 3 rather young children, one still in a high chair. In between telling the oldest to shuddup, and the others to eat up, the parents were talking to each other in a language all their own. Under the table, where no one should have noticed, a little mutual.. footsie was taking place.
I smiled. Hope for all the jaded lovers after all.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Of depths.
Listening to: the special two
missy higgins
I'm singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain,
What a glorious feeling I know.
Glorious rain, the sweetness of the sound of cascading drops, pelting down hard on my windows. I'm always happy when it pours. Even an overcast sky turns a weekday a holiday. I've always had a fascination with water; large expanses of seas, small reflections on puddles. It's always good. I never wear mascara anyway, and i'm not averse to running through the rain. I never did maintain a glamorous image anyway.
One of my first memories.. I must have been 3 or 4. I learnt how to swim before i hit kindergarten. The father had left me on the steps of the adult pool to get a little something something. Being the fool girl that i was and still am, i decided to take a little unassisted walk into the cool blue of the pool. A baby step at a time, i walked. Slowly because of my stubby legs (some things never change), calmly because i was too young to panic even when my nose was below the water; I continued to the pool floor, and i remember.. I remember.. looking around at everyone's legs, eyes wide. I felt no distress at all. In my naviete, i breathed in. I wasn't in the slightest discomfort. There was a feeling of immense calm, the muffled gurgles of distorted sounds you get when your ears are in the water, a warm feeling of being cloaked in.. comfort. The next thing i remember was being hauled up by my arm painfully, and staring at my dad in confusion, wondering why he was so flustered. I'm pretty sure it didn't last for more than a minute, but it felt like a private eternity of deja vu.
Another memory. In a living room. No parents, siblings in church, hormones in a tizzy(some things never change), whispers amid my manic giggles.. Our warped conversation, of my dares and your promises.. Into the garden we walked barefooted and with my hand in yours, a slight drizzle adding to my goose pimples. To the pool we ran, looking out for the neighbours over their high wall. Once again i was carried down the steps, as in my toddlerhood. I swear i never felt cold even as the sodden cloth of my clothes left me, all wrapped up in the shine of your eyes as i was. I was drawing a parallel even as you moved nearer to me. This time i wasn't just submerged in the deep waters of a pool, but so much more.
To draw parallels in life from even the most basic and mundane happenstance. Whether 23 or 6 years ago, they strike at the most awkward and incongruous of times. Someone mentioned he was a karang guni of belongings. I guess that would make me an equally avid collector, but of memories.
How long will this written memory last online? Will someone stumble upon it when i've all but forgotten this blog? Will whatever inadequate read i've provided here spark off someone else's memories? An unwritten, unquantified meme.
Carl jung maintained that all consciousness and symbology is a collective one. Is it possible that we all feed off the exact same stream of emotions, the same niagara's of bliss, the same pale dredges from the deep?
When i think about this, i don't feel quite so much like a legal alien anymore.
missy higgins
I'm singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain,
What a glorious feeling I know.
Glorious rain, the sweetness of the sound of cascading drops, pelting down hard on my windows. I'm always happy when it pours. Even an overcast sky turns a weekday a holiday. I've always had a fascination with water; large expanses of seas, small reflections on puddles. It's always good. I never wear mascara anyway, and i'm not averse to running through the rain. I never did maintain a glamorous image anyway.
One of my first memories.. I must have been 3 or 4. I learnt how to swim before i hit kindergarten. The father had left me on the steps of the adult pool to get a little something something. Being the fool girl that i was and still am, i decided to take a little unassisted walk into the cool blue of the pool. A baby step at a time, i walked. Slowly because of my stubby legs (some things never change), calmly because i was too young to panic even when my nose was below the water; I continued to the pool floor, and i remember.. I remember.. looking around at everyone's legs, eyes wide. I felt no distress at all. In my naviete, i breathed in. I wasn't in the slightest discomfort. There was a feeling of immense calm, the muffled gurgles of distorted sounds you get when your ears are in the water, a warm feeling of being cloaked in.. comfort. The next thing i remember was being hauled up by my arm painfully, and staring at my dad in confusion, wondering why he was so flustered. I'm pretty sure it didn't last for more than a minute, but it felt like a private eternity of deja vu.
Another memory. In a living room. No parents, siblings in church, hormones in a tizzy(some things never change), whispers amid my manic giggles.. Our warped conversation, of my dares and your promises.. Into the garden we walked barefooted and with my hand in yours, a slight drizzle adding to my goose pimples. To the pool we ran, looking out for the neighbours over their high wall. Once again i was carried down the steps, as in my toddlerhood. I swear i never felt cold even as the sodden cloth of my clothes left me, all wrapped up in the shine of your eyes as i was. I was drawing a parallel even as you moved nearer to me. This time i wasn't just submerged in the deep waters of a pool, but so much more.
To draw parallels in life from even the most basic and mundane happenstance. Whether 23 or 6 years ago, they strike at the most awkward and incongruous of times. Someone mentioned he was a karang guni of belongings. I guess that would make me an equally avid collector, but of memories.
How long will this written memory last online? Will someone stumble upon it when i've all but forgotten this blog? Will whatever inadequate read i've provided here spark off someone else's memories? An unwritten, unquantified meme.
Carl jung maintained that all consciousness and symbology is a collective one. Is it possible that we all feed off the exact same stream of emotions, the same niagara's of bliss, the same pale dredges from the deep?
When i think about this, i don't feel quite so much like a legal alien anymore.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Of expectations, great.. and small.
Listening to: Sympathethique
Costes la suite
Had to pop into office today for another subject, and had a little talk with him while we were waiting for his bloods to fill the little vacuum tubes that were nicely arrayed on my tray.
There, in the semi-sterile environment, with dimmed lights and steady hum of the machinery for backdrop, we talked of his wives, girlfriends and his present post of a big honcho for an automobile bigwig company.
"It's all about managing your expectations and priorities. Never settle, never assume".
His words, although simple, have been with me since this afternoon. I've maintained that as my own private motto for a large bit of my life. A simple thing to remember, but never easy to stomach. I've practiced it to such an extent, that it's now first nature for me to compartmentalise. We discuss, i take. A transaction, nothing more, nothing less. I'll only take something, anything, if it's been shaken into me; in the rare instances that i've given in, and asked.. when it was withheld from me i felt doubly ashamed. And now- i never make the same mistake. Flayed with the embarrassment of seeming weak, who ever said that negative reinforcement didn't make one learn was asexual as well as a frigid academic.
So now, sans expectations on others, and too many on myself, i stumble along. Raising my eyes to look at that passer by might be my undoing, and so i lower them again to concentrate on the road most travelled.
Don't expect. Don't assume.
Never want.
Costes la suite
Had to pop into office today for another subject, and had a little talk with him while we were waiting for his bloods to fill the little vacuum tubes that were nicely arrayed on my tray.
There, in the semi-sterile environment, with dimmed lights and steady hum of the machinery for backdrop, we talked of his wives, girlfriends and his present post of a big honcho for an automobile bigwig company.
"It's all about managing your expectations and priorities. Never settle, never assume".
His words, although simple, have been with me since this afternoon. I've maintained that as my own private motto for a large bit of my life. A simple thing to remember, but never easy to stomach. I've practiced it to such an extent, that it's now first nature for me to compartmentalise. We discuss, i take. A transaction, nothing more, nothing less. I'll only take something, anything, if it's been shaken into me; in the rare instances that i've given in, and asked.. when it was withheld from me i felt doubly ashamed. And now- i never make the same mistake. Flayed with the embarrassment of seeming weak, who ever said that negative reinforcement didn't make one learn was asexual as well as a frigid academic.
So now, sans expectations on others, and too many on myself, i stumble along. Raising my eyes to look at that passer by might be my undoing, and so i lower them again to concentrate on the road most travelled.
Don't expect. Don't assume.
Never want.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Of unease.
Listening to: Walking with a ghost
tegan and sara
I can't put my finger on it.
Made arrangements for the scope today. I think.. company is not needed. It's not that important and fussing over small things annoy the hell out of me. Sorry, make that irritate the Fuck out of me. Snapped at the mother for reminding me to make the appts. If she knew i had to do the scope, she'd flip, and i don't feel like discussing this with her.
What worries me the most- My lethargy. It worries me because unlike anything else, this is tangible, and can be felt, can be observed. Im so tired by the end of a work day. My head spins after a fast walk. I realise that no matter how much i sleep during the day, i can still rest at night. Easily.
So terribly tired. Tired of hearing of all the things people go through. Tired of hearing them talk of their own personal hell. What kind of place is this, that has mostly broken people walking around?
tegan and sara
I can't put my finger on it.
Made arrangements for the scope today. I think.. company is not needed. It's not that important and fussing over small things annoy the hell out of me. Sorry, make that irritate the Fuck out of me. Snapped at the mother for reminding me to make the appts. If she knew i had to do the scope, she'd flip, and i don't feel like discussing this with her.
What worries me the most- My lethargy. It worries me because unlike anything else, this is tangible, and can be felt, can be observed. Im so tired by the end of a work day. My head spins after a fast walk. I realise that no matter how much i sleep during the day, i can still rest at night. Easily.
So terribly tired. Tired of hearing of all the things people go through. Tired of hearing them talk of their own personal hell. What kind of place is this, that has mostly broken people walking around?
Of criminalistic behaviour.
Listening to: Before i forget
slipknot
I'm worried what's going to slip my mind next.
Went for thosai at this little place opposite the bukit timah reserve. A little stretch of coffeshops, all mostly occupied. We sat down, i took forever to choose. We ordered, we waited, and we talked. Wonderfully balmy night, with conversation and night breezes. Laughing because a guy at the table introduced himself as V.J, only it sounded more like B.j.
The threads of conversation continued, we got up, walked, and plonked down again somewhere else to fan them to greater heights. It was only when i was back home, in the middle of my bath, thinking of the evening, that something hit me on my soapy head. I didn't pay. Oh god. We didn't pay for dinner.
Oops.
slipknot
I'm worried what's going to slip my mind next.
Went for thosai at this little place opposite the bukit timah reserve. A little stretch of coffeshops, all mostly occupied. We sat down, i took forever to choose. We ordered, we waited, and we talked. Wonderfully balmy night, with conversation and night breezes. Laughing because a guy at the table introduced himself as V.J, only it sounded more like B.j.
The threads of conversation continued, we got up, walked, and plonked down again somewhere else to fan them to greater heights. It was only when i was back home, in the middle of my bath, thinking of the evening, that something hit me on my soapy head. I didn't pay. Oh god. We didn't pay for dinner.
Oops.
Monday, May 23, 2005
As tinky winky would say.. Again!
Your Dominant Thinking Style: |
| Modifying Super logical and rational, you consider every fact available to you. You don't make rash decisions and are rarely moved by emotion. You prefer what's known and proven - to the new and untested. You tend to ground those around you and add stability. |
Your Secondary Thinking Style: |
| Visioning You are very insightful and tend to make decisions based on your insights. You focus on how things should be - even if you haven't worked out the details. An idealist, thinking of the future helps you guide your path. You tend to give others long-term direction and momentum. |
Of incapacitation.
Seeing as i'm pretty much useless for anything today, i've taken to equally useless online tests :)
Onward!
Where would we all be without light sabers, hmm?
Onward!
| Your Amazing Yoda Sex Line |
 "Feel the force!" |
Where would we all be without light sabers, hmm?
Of pains in the neck.
Damn.
My neck is still killing me. I can't look down or turn my head in the slightest, and anything that involves using my shoulder muscles makes me that much more nauseous. I can't even have a lie down because every position except ramrod straight involves pain.
I need a massage. A good one. A professional one. I need large hands. The nice girls who normally tend the spa have bitty hands, and the pressure isn't distributed enough for me because they compensate for small palms with strength. I need.. a gay masseur.
Preferbly if they have nice arms and are shirtless. Therapy indeed.
Rowwwl.
..Much later..
I was reading the newspapers, when i realised that my nose had been itching for some time. After much tracing, i decided to blame the papers . Not such a difficult thing since i noticed my fingers were grubby with newspaper ink. Trudging to the bathroom, i discovered i couldn't quite lift my arms enough, or bend my head down adequately to the sink to wash my whole face. What to do.. Just wash the nose lor.
Sigh.
My neck is still killing me. I can't look down or turn my head in the slightest, and anything that involves using my shoulder muscles makes me that much more nauseous. I can't even have a lie down because every position except ramrod straight involves pain.
I need a massage. A good one. A professional one. I need large hands. The nice girls who normally tend the spa have bitty hands, and the pressure isn't distributed enough for me because they compensate for small palms with strength. I need.. a gay masseur.
Preferbly if they have nice arms and are shirtless. Therapy indeed.
Rowwwl.
..Much later..
I was reading the newspapers, when i realised that my nose had been itching for some time. After much tracing, i decided to blame the papers . Not such a difficult thing since i noticed my fingers were grubby with newspaper ink. Trudging to the bathroom, i discovered i couldn't quite lift my arms enough, or bend my head down adequately to the sink to wash my whole face. What to do.. Just wash the nose lor.
Sigh.
Of dirty fingers and much licking of lips.
There are a few things that evoke a real and passionate response in the usually apathethic me. They are, in an order of randomness, these:
- Issues pertaining to those who are unable to take a stand for themselves.
- Various hedonistic pursuits of which i shall not go into at this point
- Beauty and luxury of any kind
and
- The sweet, sweet lure of.. cho-co-late. *shudders*
There are few foods that people feel as passionate about -- a passion that goes beyond a love for the "sweetness" of most candies or desserts. It's more than an after dinner mint, more than a coating that melts in my mouth, and in my hands. After all, what other little smidgen or nugget could get me needy in 5 seconds flat from the word "want"? It's a prelude to more, to satiety of senses, to getting my fingers slick, and to low mumurings of pleasure. I've had it as a bribe, a reward, and a form of pleasure in its every form ;p
I love getting chocolate from boutiques. Nothing compares to getting your little mouthfuls of shudders in something shiny. Whether the box, or the ribbons that i love to untie, whether gold, or silver, it's all good. Terribly good really. As any chocoholic worth his cocoa will tell you, after abstinence it's orgasmic even.
That's all well and good. But why does chocolate make me feel so terribly good? More than just a sugar high surely. One of the most pleasant effects of eating chocolate is the "good feeling" that many people experience after indulging. Chocolate contains more than 300 known chemicals.
Caffeine is the most well known of these chemical ingredients, and while it's present in chocolate, it can only be found in small quantities. Theobromine, a weak stimulant, is also present, in slightly higher amounts. The combination of these two chemicals (and possibly others) may provide the "lift" that chocolate eaters experience.
Phenylethylamine is also found in chocolate. It's related to amphetamines, which are strong stimulants. All of these stimulants increase the activity of neurotransmitters (brain chemicals) in parts of the brain that control our ability to pay attention and stay alert.
There are other chemicals, and more effects, but the above are the only ones which have truly been proven. And now the time has come to end this post so i can go raid my stash of anti-depressants cum aphrosadiacs.. MmmMMm.
I live to learn.
Listening to: Giving you up
kylie minogue
The importance of having a good grasp of the english language, and having never to stop learning? Imperative. I learnt a new word the day before.
Fucktard.
The first half of the word- fuck.
Pronunciation: 'f&k
Function: verb
Etymology: akin to Dutch fokken to breed (cattle),
Swedish dialect fokka to copulate
The second half stems from the word retard.
Pronunciation: ri-'tärd
Function: verb
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French or Latin;
Middle French retarder,
from Latin retardare,
from re- + tardus slow
Ahh..The beauty of a rounded education.
kylie minogue
The importance of having a good grasp of the english language, and having never to stop learning? Imperative. I learnt a new word the day before.
Fucktard.
The first half of the word- fuck.
Pronunciation: 'f&k
Function: verb
Etymology: akin to Dutch fokken to breed (cattle),
Swedish dialect fokka to copulate
The second half stems from the word retard.
Pronunciation: ri-'tärd
Function: verb
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French or Latin;
Middle French retarder,
from Latin retardare,
from re- + tardus slow
Ahh..The beauty of a rounded education.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Of restlessness and heat
So BLOODY warm these few days.
I scurry from teh car to office, from office to the car, into whatever air conditioning i can get. I refused to meet a friend in the afternoon because i was busy hiding behind my curtained windows which, not incidentally, were cool from an internal room temperature of 25 degrees.
Was so disappinted last night there was no welwet. Of course there will be other times, of course you don't have to go with them you say.. I don't. But to me ,the shared companionship of colleagues was something i wanted, particularly after the past few weeks of being so drained. There's nothing quite like misery shared. Shall request for blueskies to remove my link. Methinks my writing will be getting more personal in the days to come.
Was feeling a little moody today, headed to the reef for some sea breeze, drinks and fresh air khaki'ship. We were talking about seriously re-locating. Her reasons? A better life away from the race, better prospects. In between stabbing at the fat, oily.. weiners on my plate, i explained i didn't, and have never particularly liked it here. "What makes you think you'll like it better any where else?" she asked. I don't know. All the times i've travelled, i've always felt a lightness of step, and not simply because i love room service.
I scurry from teh car to office, from office to the car, into whatever air conditioning i can get. I refused to meet a friend in the afternoon because i was busy hiding behind my curtained windows which, not incidentally, were cool from an internal room temperature of 25 degrees.
Was so disappinted last night there was no welwet. Of course there will be other times, of course you don't have to go with them you say.. I don't. But to me ,the shared companionship of colleagues was something i wanted, particularly after the past few weeks of being so drained. There's nothing quite like misery shared. Shall request for blueskies to remove my link. Methinks my writing will be getting more personal in the days to come.
Was feeling a little moody today, headed to the reef for some sea breeze, drinks and fresh air khaki'ship. We were talking about seriously re-locating. Her reasons? A better life away from the race, better prospects. In between stabbing at the fat, oily.. weiners on my plate, i explained i didn't, and have never particularly liked it here. "What makes you think you'll like it better any where else?" she asked. I don't know. All the times i've travelled, i've always felt a lightness of step, and not simply because i love room service.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
In perspective
Had a dear friend who was involved in an accident today on the ECP.
When all was said and done, no one was injured, and for that i am eternally grateful.. Im pretty phobic about driving, and again i have to nag, telling people to be careful, not to tail gate, yada yada yada. People- the worst part isn't the dying, it's who you leave behind after you do, if you do.
I remember observing a little private scene back in the SICU.. I was looking after a young girl, barely 20. She was the pillion rider, and her other half had come to visit her. Fate being the usual morbid bitch that she is, had let him off with only scrapes and a bandaged arm. The little girl? She had 2 chest tubes, a fractured pelvis, ruptured spleen, one leg was smashed and i really can't remember what happened to her arms. I remember her coming in during my night and being subjected to the various invasive procedures.. I remember cringing- she whimpered as the various needles slid into various bits of her simultaneously. Too weak to move her hands to stop the surgeons, but alert enough for me to hear her whisper the word "stop".
When her boyfriend came to visit her later, i'll never forget the slowing of his steps as he realised the bandaged up little person was his girl. He simple rested his forehead on the glassdoor, hands at his sides while he sobbed.
She didn't make it through the next day if you're interested to know.
It's hard to witness these things. I've always been a little sheepish when i tell people i don't drive, but do they know why? God forbid. If i ever wreck someone, i would never want to feel the anguish of life long guilt.
When all was said and done, no one was injured, and for that i am eternally grateful.. Im pretty phobic about driving, and again i have to nag, telling people to be careful, not to tail gate, yada yada yada. People- the worst part isn't the dying, it's who you leave behind after you do, if you do.
I remember observing a little private scene back in the SICU.. I was looking after a young girl, barely 20. She was the pillion rider, and her other half had come to visit her. Fate being the usual morbid bitch that she is, had let him off with only scrapes and a bandaged arm. The little girl? She had 2 chest tubes, a fractured pelvis, ruptured spleen, one leg was smashed and i really can't remember what happened to her arms. I remember her coming in during my night and being subjected to the various invasive procedures.. I remember cringing- she whimpered as the various needles slid into various bits of her simultaneously. Too weak to move her hands to stop the surgeons, but alert enough for me to hear her whisper the word "stop".
When her boyfriend came to visit her later, i'll never forget the slowing of his steps as he realised the bandaged up little person was his girl. He simple rested his forehead on the glassdoor, hands at his sides while he sobbed.
She didn't make it through the next day if you're interested to know.
It's hard to witness these things. I've always been a little sheepish when i tell people i don't drive, but do they know why? God forbid. If i ever wreck someone, i would never want to feel the anguish of life long guilt.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
I am going to..
RANT!!
Sometimes the sheer arrogance of people is eye popping. Vertigo causing. Stroke inducing. Gag reflexing. Awe inspiring even.
This morning i was in the dining room reading the newspaper, and i heard my phone going off in my bedroom upstairs. Being too lazy to run up the stairs like the lazy ass that i am, i let it ring. The second time i heard it, i exhaled deeply and went to check. Might be urgent right? Yeah. 3 missed calls, and all from Mr [H][K][S]. Wonder what's up? This guy has been calling me, and due to various reasons, i've either missed his calls or been unable to receive them because he likes to call me during office hours. Strangely, all the times that i've called back, he's never answered. And he NEVER, EVER picks up his phone at night. He'll ask to use msn, or he'll say that his phone is being charged. I stopped being too friendly because i had my suspicions. But i digress. At this point, im merely curious. Then i get the sms.
"My gf would like it if you could stop calling and sms'ing me. Thank you."
I stare in disbelief. What? Waitamin. Right person? Was this from his "gf" or himself? I stare and stare and stare. UNbelievable. The last few weeks, i've really not been answering his calls. Not because i don't want to, but people do have lives. And i call back only to ask what he wants. But he NEVER answers. Of course after a while i get fed up and get slack about answering and returning his calls.
I get a voice mail. It's the same msg. The Frikkin ARROGANCE!! He has the TEMERITY to msg me this rubbish, then leaves a SECOND msg asking me not to call him like im a desperate school girl?? When i almost NEVER called him of my own accord for a long long time and can scarcely remember the last time i msged him??
OMG- my eyes feel like they're going to pop right out of my head, and i can feel my entire body going red. I send off msgs asking his gf to check his outgoing calls to me. They're definitely going to exceed my incoming. Check the dates why don't you. You'll find that most of my calls occur after his, on said days. Have something to say? Call me. I've always been an advocate of straight forwardness in some matters. Why, oh why, do some people think they're 100% more desirable than they actually are?
Boy- stick to the nice car . You need it.
Sometimes the sheer arrogance of people is eye popping. Vertigo causing. Stroke inducing. Gag reflexing. Awe inspiring even.
This morning i was in the dining room reading the newspaper, and i heard my phone going off in my bedroom upstairs. Being too lazy to run up the stairs like the lazy ass that i am, i let it ring. The second time i heard it, i exhaled deeply and went to check. Might be urgent right? Yeah. 3 missed calls, and all from Mr [H][K][S]. Wonder what's up? This guy has been calling me, and due to various reasons, i've either missed his calls or been unable to receive them because he likes to call me during office hours. Strangely, all the times that i've called back, he's never answered. And he NEVER, EVER picks up his phone at night. He'll ask to use msn, or he'll say that his phone is being charged. I stopped being too friendly because i had my suspicions. But i digress. At this point, im merely curious. Then i get the sms.
"My gf would like it if you could stop calling and sms'ing me. Thank you."
I stare in disbelief. What? Waitamin. Right person? Was this from his "gf" or himself? I stare and stare and stare. UNbelievable. The last few weeks, i've really not been answering his calls. Not because i don't want to, but people do have lives. And i call back only to ask what he wants. But he NEVER answers. Of course after a while i get fed up and get slack about answering and returning his calls.
I get a voice mail. It's the same msg. The Frikkin ARROGANCE!! He has the TEMERITY to msg me this rubbish, then leaves a SECOND msg asking me not to call him like im a desperate school girl?? When i almost NEVER called him of my own accord for a long long time and can scarcely remember the last time i msged him??
OMG- my eyes feel like they're going to pop right out of my head, and i can feel my entire body going red. I send off msgs asking his gf to check his outgoing calls to me. They're definitely going to exceed my incoming. Check the dates why don't you. You'll find that most of my calls occur after his, on said days. Have something to say? Call me. I've always been an advocate of straight forwardness in some matters. Why, oh why, do some people think they're 100% more desirable than they actually are?
Boy- stick to the nice car . You need it.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Quiet.
Pensive pensive pensive.
I write from work, looking out of my window at the dirty rooftops of Nus. I remember that it's friday, and if i work late i'll be the only one in office. I hasten to pick up my pace, start shuffling the papers on my desk for the quickest task to finish, but it makes no difference. A min later im still staring out the window. Thunder rumbles and it comforts me. There's only one crack in the dark clouds that frame this little view, and the setting sun comes through. Literal rays of light pass through and and one seems to land straight on my keyboard as i type. I imagine myself bathed in the light while the rest of the office contiunues to be still, shrouded by rainclouds. As i stare and marvel at the illumination of the clouds from within, i start to feel silly because im indulging in pointless writing, but it's been so long, and it feels so right. When have i ever stopped anything because it felt right?
I decide to get some fresh air, and walk up the stairs to the roof top. The door is open, and i step in to the slight drizzle and beautiful wind. It's dark already, and i can see the lights from all around. I light up, take deep breaths, and close my eyes.. The wind gets stronger, and the drizzle slightly heavier, and still i stay. Still i imagine what could be, still tears for what could not, is not, still at arms length they stay.
If my mood had a colour, it'd be deepest purple. A texture? It'd be plush, and you'd sink into it. If i could decide what to with it, i'd wrap you in it; all the while pulling the sides closer so you'll come nearer and it wouldn't look like my doing.. A scent? A light musk that wld fill your senses as the heat from me evaporates it. The taste? Me.
Memories, overlayed with wants, plied with needs and dusted with the future.
I write from work, looking out of my window at the dirty rooftops of Nus. I remember that it's friday, and if i work late i'll be the only one in office. I hasten to pick up my pace, start shuffling the papers on my desk for the quickest task to finish, but it makes no difference. A min later im still staring out the window. Thunder rumbles and it comforts me. There's only one crack in the dark clouds that frame this little view, and the setting sun comes through. Literal rays of light pass through and and one seems to land straight on my keyboard as i type. I imagine myself bathed in the light while the rest of the office contiunues to be still, shrouded by rainclouds. As i stare and marvel at the illumination of the clouds from within, i start to feel silly because im indulging in pointless writing, but it's been so long, and it feels so right. When have i ever stopped anything because it felt right?
I decide to get some fresh air, and walk up the stairs to the roof top. The door is open, and i step in to the slight drizzle and beautiful wind. It's dark already, and i can see the lights from all around. I light up, take deep breaths, and close my eyes.. The wind gets stronger, and the drizzle slightly heavier, and still i stay. Still i imagine what could be, still tears for what could not, is not, still at arms length they stay.
If my mood had a colour, it'd be deepest purple. A texture? It'd be plush, and you'd sink into it. If i could decide what to with it, i'd wrap you in it; all the while pulling the sides closer so you'll come nearer and it wouldn't look like my doing.. A scent? A light musk that wld fill your senses as the heat from me evaporates it. The taste? Me.
Memories, overlayed with wants, plied with needs and dusted with the future.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Scary hair.
So. On sunday i thought i'd make an attempt to look human again, and decided to do something to my hair. I popped in to see Kenny, my nicely tattoed stylist.
Once he had nicely settled me in, all thoughts of a simple snip and run disappeared. He looked down upon me with this frown on his face, then started manhandling my hair, tut tutting all the while.
All resolve and thoughts of budget sailed out the door, as they are prone to do when im seated compromisingly in malls or candy stores. I started to ask him for a trim but then he did his "hmm'ing" thing.... and I gave in! I broke down. I wailed. I told him i was sick of having to rebond my hair, sick of being constrained by the curls that would eventually come, sick sick sick, yada yada yada. With a deft flick of his wrist, he gave me a serious look and said..
"Don wan rebond, then..then perm lah"
I still can't believe i did it. I still do believe that most hairstyling procedures were invented solely for the embarrassment of the customer, and that they are inversely related to the proximity of the door to your seat plus number of people who happen to walk by and gawk. I swear- I had my locks trapped to this thing that looked like a mothership with telephone cords stuck into my head, floating 20 cm above . I cldn't turn my head, let alone move. Not funny. I harrassed the cute ah lian who did the actual curls to make sure i didn't turn out stylo a la auntie. I was fiercesome to kenny when he commented that it was worth a try. No try! It had better work!
When all was said and done and paid for, i hot stepped it to the nearest loo to stare at my perm. My perm! One small step (backwards) for the bank balance, one giant leap forward for tai tai dom!
Like my curls?
Once he had nicely settled me in, all thoughts of a simple snip and run disappeared. He looked down upon me with this frown on his face, then started manhandling my hair, tut tutting all the while.
All resolve and thoughts of budget sailed out the door, as they are prone to do when im seated compromisingly in malls or candy stores. I started to ask him for a trim but then he did his "hmm'ing" thing.... and I gave in! I broke down. I wailed. I told him i was sick of having to rebond my hair, sick of being constrained by the curls that would eventually come, sick sick sick, yada yada yada. With a deft flick of his wrist, he gave me a serious look and said..
"Don wan rebond, then..then perm lah"
I still can't believe i did it. I still do believe that most hairstyling procedures were invented solely for the embarrassment of the customer, and that they are inversely related to the proximity of the door to your seat plus number of people who happen to walk by and gawk. I swear- I had my locks trapped to this thing that looked like a mothership with telephone cords stuck into my head, floating 20 cm above . I cldn't turn my head, let alone move. Not funny. I harrassed the cute ah lian who did the actual curls to make sure i didn't turn out stylo a la auntie. I was fiercesome to kenny when he commented that it was worth a try. No try! It had better work!
When all was said and done and paid for, i hot stepped it to the nearest loo to stare at my perm. My perm! One small step (backwards) for the bank balance, one giant leap forward for tai tai dom!
Like my curls?
From Germany, no less.
Well now. An ultraconservative. Who would have thought?
The chosen name of the new pope — Benedict — draws a connection to Benedict XV, the Italian pontiff from 1914 to 1922 who had the difficult task of providing leadership for Catholic countries on opposite sides of World War I. His declared neutrality, and his repeated protests against weapons like poison gas angered both sides. Benedict was also known for reaching out to Muslims and for efforts to close the nearly 1,000-year estrangement with Christian Orthodox churches
Some hope that this is a sign of things to come, that the policies that will come forth from the vatican might be somewhat more..moderate.
That there is no flexibility on the church’s views on priestly celibacy, contraception and the ban on ordinations for women, i am not surprised. I have learnt to live with catholic tradition as much as anyone can i suppose, but the rest?
In 1986, he denounced rock music as the “vehicle of anti-religion.” In 1988, he dismissed anyone who tried to find “feminist” meanings in the Bible. Last year, he told American bishops that it was allowable to deny Communion to those who support such “manifest grave sin” as abortion and euthanasia.
Pontiff or not, who has the power to deny communion?
There's more. He once called Buddhism a religion for the self-indulgent. In an interview with the French magazine Le Figaro last year, he suggested Turkey’s bid to join the Europe Union conflicted with Europe’s Christian roots — a view that could unsettle Vatican attempts to improve relations with Muslims apparently.
“Turkey has always represented a different continent, in permanent contrast to Europe,” he was quoted as saying.
Mmhmm.
I worry. A day before he was elected pope, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger made clear the type of church he wanted: one that rigidly maintained the doctrines he himself had upheld as guardian of church orthodoxy, where there were absolute truths on matters such as abortion, celibacy and homosexuality.
It's all very well to uphold the values one was brought up with, but.. In a changing world, with modern problems, will a mindset such as his be appropriate?
There is only one other thing that keeps me wondering. His holiness celebrated his 78th birthday during the weekend. How long will before we hold another conclave? Why did the Vatican choose someone who only has a few more years at most? Reasons simplistic me will doubtless never guess, but what i would give to be privy.
The chosen name of the new pope — Benedict — draws a connection to Benedict XV, the Italian pontiff from 1914 to 1922 who had the difficult task of providing leadership for Catholic countries on opposite sides of World War I. His declared neutrality, and his repeated protests against weapons like poison gas angered both sides. Benedict was also known for reaching out to Muslims and for efforts to close the nearly 1,000-year estrangement with Christian Orthodox churches
Some hope that this is a sign of things to come, that the policies that will come forth from the vatican might be somewhat more..moderate.
That there is no flexibility on the church’s views on priestly celibacy, contraception and the ban on ordinations for women, i am not surprised. I have learnt to live with catholic tradition as much as anyone can i suppose, but the rest?
In 1986, he denounced rock music as the “vehicle of anti-religion.” In 1988, he dismissed anyone who tried to find “feminist” meanings in the Bible. Last year, he told American bishops that it was allowable to deny Communion to those who support such “manifest grave sin” as abortion and euthanasia.
Pontiff or not, who has the power to deny communion?
There's more. He once called Buddhism a religion for the self-indulgent. In an interview with the French magazine Le Figaro last year, he suggested Turkey’s bid to join the Europe Union conflicted with Europe’s Christian roots — a view that could unsettle Vatican attempts to improve relations with Muslims apparently.
“Turkey has always represented a different continent, in permanent contrast to Europe,” he was quoted as saying.
Mmhmm.
I worry. A day before he was elected pope, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger made clear the type of church he wanted: one that rigidly maintained the doctrines he himself had upheld as guardian of church orthodoxy, where there were absolute truths on matters such as abortion, celibacy and homosexuality.
It's all very well to uphold the values one was brought up with, but.. In a changing world, with modern problems, will a mindset such as his be appropriate?
There is only one other thing that keeps me wondering. His holiness celebrated his 78th birthday during the weekend. How long will before we hold another conclave? Why did the Vatican choose someone who only has a few more years at most? Reasons simplistic me will doubtless never guess, but what i would give to be privy.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Out of the blue
Don't you just hate it when you get wierd numbers on your phone?
Have been receiving calls from both a landline and cell ph number. They're always missed calls because the bugger calls in the morning. The mobile is always off when i try to call back, and no one at the landline recognises my name though it's appparently residential. WTF?
Another thing- i've had my number for yonks. Beyond yonks. Right. I've been receiving calls this mth, all asking for "expressions". I'll be damned if people can't tell the difference between a 6 and a 9. They need more than weight loss, lemme tell you. Sigh. Like my phone bills aren't wrecking my life already. The best part is when they ask if im sure that they havn't reached the right number.
This evening i received another call from another unfamiliar number, and i was psyching myself up to sound all fiercesome. I'd give them "expressions". Huh. Instead i was..surprised. The person on the other line had a voice too familiar and in a second, i had remembered. He had kept his promise and called me after 3 years because at that time i wasn't at leisure to rekindle anything. Amazing. And this coming from the pits of unreliability. Hope for mankind yet.
I hate it when something comes along to tipple the scales, and you have to dance around just to keep your balance.
I know i sound pissed, but really.. Im anything but.
Have been receiving calls from both a landline and cell ph number. They're always missed calls because the bugger calls in the morning. The mobile is always off when i try to call back, and no one at the landline recognises my name though it's appparently residential. WTF?
Another thing- i've had my number for yonks. Beyond yonks. Right. I've been receiving calls this mth, all asking for "expressions". I'll be damned if people can't tell the difference between a 6 and a 9. They need more than weight loss, lemme tell you. Sigh. Like my phone bills aren't wrecking my life already. The best part is when they ask if im sure that they havn't reached the right number.
This evening i received another call from another unfamiliar number, and i was psyching myself up to sound all fiercesome. I'd give them "expressions". Huh. Instead i was..surprised. The person on the other line had a voice too familiar and in a second, i had remembered. He had kept his promise and called me after 3 years because at that time i wasn't at leisure to rekindle anything. Amazing. And this coming from the pits of unreliability. Hope for mankind yet.
I hate it when something comes along to tipple the scales, and you have to dance around just to keep your balance.
I know i sound pissed, but really.. Im anything but.
Of wants.
Listening to: Songbird
Oasis
For a man to deny himself
Is but to store the desire
In the recesses of his soul.
That which you spurn today,
will be waiting for you tomorrow
For Your body knows its heritage
finds its way to its needs eventually
and can never be deceived.
Just as it is that the receiver delights
So it is to the giver who finds it within to give even more
For it is both
As it is to me
Giving and receiving of pleasure
both a need and an ecstacy.
Too much time on my hands- Can't you tell?
Oasis
For a man to deny himself
Is but to store the desire
In the recesses of his soul.
That which you spurn today,
will be waiting for you tomorrow
For Your body knows its heritage
finds its way to its needs eventually
and can never be deceived.
Just as it is that the receiver delights
So it is to the giver who finds it within to give even more
For it is both
As it is to me
Giving and receiving of pleasure
both a need and an ecstacy.
Too much time on my hands- Can't you tell?
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Bliss. I wish it came in tablet form.
Listening to: Bliss
Tori amos
So the parents have been in japan for 3 days already. And i havn't asked anyone to stay over and take my mind off spending nights alone. Actually im surprised that this time i don't mind turning most of the lights off before i go to bed- heh. Must be because i havn't watched a horror flick in yonks. And also because im tired of being called a wuss.
Was griping that platonic relationships are never really what they seem to be, as evidenced when stay overs occur. So i wonder- is this because guys will be guys, or is there something sinister in my behaviour? It's not like i lounge around in slinky red things or spike drinks and watch sylvia saint on broadband. Sheesh. Nothing catastrophic occured of course, being the good catholic *coughs* girl that i am. Sensible is what i am. Of course.
Why is so hard to find a truly platonic friend? To say in good faith that, yes, he's my friend because he likes me as i am, for the person i am? And NOT because im obviously lacking a schlong?
And yes, guilt always sets in. Even if they hadn't known better, i should have. Right?
I think back over a few times when i had clubbed and indulged in un-faith like behaviour. It might not be a biggie to some, but it was enough to make me feel like it was a moment best stolen and forgotten. It wasn't the drinks. It wasn't that i was in an unknown place where no one knew me. It's not like i havn't been concerned at a girl friend's 'next morning' confessions because i don't believe in one nighters. Heaven knows they wld be surprised if they knew what goes through my mind. Right things at the right time, with the right people. Person, i meant-lol!
What happens if one day the "should know better's" and the "frankly i don't give a shite's" meet?
Then what?
Tori amos
So the parents have been in japan for 3 days already. And i havn't asked anyone to stay over and take my mind off spending nights alone. Actually im surprised that this time i don't mind turning most of the lights off before i go to bed- heh. Must be because i havn't watched a horror flick in yonks. And also because im tired of being called a wuss.
Was griping that platonic relationships are never really what they seem to be, as evidenced when stay overs occur. So i wonder- is this because guys will be guys, or is there something sinister in my behaviour? It's not like i lounge around in slinky red things or spike drinks and watch sylvia saint on broadband. Sheesh. Nothing catastrophic occured of course, being the good catholic *coughs* girl that i am. Sensible is what i am. Of course.
Why is so hard to find a truly platonic friend? To say in good faith that, yes, he's my friend because he likes me as i am, for the person i am? And NOT because im obviously lacking a schlong?
And yes, guilt always sets in. Even if they hadn't known better, i should have. Right?
I think back over a few times when i had clubbed and indulged in un-faith like behaviour. It might not be a biggie to some, but it was enough to make me feel like it was a moment best stolen and forgotten. It wasn't the drinks. It wasn't that i was in an unknown place where no one knew me. It's not like i havn't been concerned at a girl friend's 'next morning' confessions because i don't believe in one nighters. Heaven knows they wld be surprised if they knew what goes through my mind. Right things at the right time, with the right people. Person, i meant-lol!
What happens if one day the "should know better's" and the "frankly i don't give a shite's" meet?
Then what?
It's been ten thousand years since i've last posted.
Listening to: Precious things
Tori amos
No, i don't have a penchant for exaggeration, thought i'd told you that a billion times already.
747 is coming along, inevitably fast. Protocol plans have been brought up to managment for logistic issues as they were needed urgently and Jl wasn't around to settle fast.. On thursday i was flabbergasted to find that a last minute meeting had been scheduled with ly and lh, the techs and scientist. Oh- and my "mentor". She understood my look when she asked 4 mins before i was supposed to go off if i was game for a meeting. She hadn't known about the meeting either.
Why wasn't i informed about the meeting when i was protocol leader (P.L)?
She patted me on my back, said it wasn't that important since it was higher level planning. Oh Goodie. Was i supposed to be relieved?
I slipped into the meeting room later. No one made way for me at the table, so i had to squeeze.
I had a talk with with sher when we were in the car later.. it's only because it's your first protocol she said when i mentioned that i felt redundant. It's not an uncommon thing. A snort and a grunt from me. It's not a personal thing, i know that from what the other girls say. I just..Urgh. It doesn't matter to me that everyone goes throught the same thing, but it kills me because iniatiative is not looked upon kindly here. They want you to be on top of everything, but they don't keep you informed. They stress professionalism, but sometimes i feel that even though they're 20 years older, the maturity of the gross week old sandwich in the fridge is superior.
Grrr. Only 8 more mths to go.
Tori amos
No, i don't have a penchant for exaggeration, thought i'd told you that a billion times already.
747 is coming along, inevitably fast. Protocol plans have been brought up to managment for logistic issues as they were needed urgently and Jl wasn't around to settle fast.. On thursday i was flabbergasted to find that a last minute meeting had been scheduled with ly and lh, the techs and scientist. Oh- and my "mentor". She understood my look when she asked 4 mins before i was supposed to go off if i was game for a meeting. She hadn't known about the meeting either.
Why wasn't i informed about the meeting when i was protocol leader (P.L)?
She patted me on my back, said it wasn't that important since it was higher level planning. Oh Goodie. Was i supposed to be relieved?
I slipped into the meeting room later. No one made way for me at the table, so i had to squeeze.
I had a talk with with sher when we were in the car later.. it's only because it's your first protocol she said when i mentioned that i felt redundant. It's not an uncommon thing. A snort and a grunt from me. It's not a personal thing, i know that from what the other girls say. I just..Urgh. It doesn't matter to me that everyone goes throught the same thing, but it kills me because iniatiative is not looked upon kindly here. They want you to be on top of everything, but they don't keep you informed. They stress professionalism, but sometimes i feel that even though they're 20 years older, the maturity of the gross week old sandwich in the fridge is superior.
Grrr. Only 8 more mths to go.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
This little piggie..
Amazing. So now in addition to juggling my present protocol, and trying to finish the last one, i found the newest one on my desk. See? Even not checking mail to avoid getting news to spoil your day doesn't work. Some nice soul (and she is a real sweetie) had printed it out for me. So now i have..3 protocols to play with? When i was busy freaking out about it my colleague came to me and told me to take it as a good diet plan. Sigh. When i get stressed i get really nauseous and lose my lunch. Or bile.
Was on course during the week, and had no time to go out, eat, or let alone blog. Pah!!!!! When i came home on friday, was so tired i had no mood to go partying anymore. I just..slept. And slept i did. 16 hours! *yeah* I did wake in the mdidle feeling refreshed, but i forced myself to sleep because i was greedy and now im just zonked. And i still feel like sleeping. What a pig i am. How proud i am :)
So now i've cancelled my saturday night plans, the pizza is on its way and im planning to mooch around the house with a movie. It feels good. It feels like im relaxing, and it feels like a lazy weekend. Ahhhhhhh.... :)))
Was on course during the week, and had no time to go out, eat, or let alone blog. Pah!!!!! When i came home on friday, was so tired i had no mood to go partying anymore. I just..slept. And slept i did. 16 hours! *yeah* I did wake in the mdidle feeling refreshed, but i forced myself to sleep because i was greedy and now im just zonked. And i still feel like sleeping. What a pig i am. How proud i am :)
So now i've cancelled my saturday night plans, the pizza is on its way and im planning to mooch around the house with a movie. It feels good. It feels like im relaxing, and it feels like a lazy weekend. Ahhhhhhh.... :)))
Third time's the charm. Was it Terri's?
When is the time to be moral?
Once in 2001. Once in 2003. One final time in 2005.
I read with no small discomfort that the circus (on her part) was finally over. I wonder how the health care professionals in that nursing home reacted to the news that she was to be starved. Did they just mouth words of disbelief and continue with their duties? Did any of them refuse to have any part in it? Was it hell for them to comtinue their duties while they carried out Mr Michael Schiavo's wishes to have his wife starved to death? I hope it was. He who faxed a statement to news organizations Monday in which he said he had difficulty accepting a court ruling allowing him to have his wife's feeding tube removed.
I've taken care of individuals who've been rendered "vegetative" by different means. There is such a thing as a will to live, and it is very apparent in some cases. I've seen a pastor who had had a stroke and survived 15 years. He had unseeing eyes, wasn't able to respond by blinks or any means which would let us know he was mentally "alert". Extentions of him were a feeding tube in which a formula was sloshed in 6 times a day. Tubes to take away waste from his systems. Tubes to make sure he wasn't dehydrated. I had spoken to his wife who was by his side one afternoon, telling her i admired her strength in coping. She spent all her afternoons with him, reading from the bible and massaging the oils which he has so liked into his skin. She smiled, and said sweetly- that she didn't have a choice.
Taken aback, i murmured that she must be very tired, and went back to my patient. A strange thing happened then. My colleague asked me if the wife had been washing his face, and i responded with a startled no. Bending close to him, i noticed his cheeks were wet. He was crying.
Thinking back on this, im sure i'm not the only one who'll be able to tell you such stories. There are many more, stories of people holding on for one last family member, stories of people surviving when they shouldn't and those who should have.
Who's to say that someone has *left* us even though she's physically here? Who's to say whats wrong or right? I can only say that if anyone is to err, it should be on the side of life.
If you HAVE decided what you want and you're absolutely positive that you will never change your mind, there is such a thing as an AMD or advanced medical directive.
An Advance Medical Directive (AMD) is a legal document that you sign in advance to inform the doctor treating you (in the event you become terminally ill ) that you do not want any extraordinary life-sustaining treatment to be used to prolong your life. I havn't though, and am not sure if i ever will. How do you know what you want right now won't be the opposite when you're clinging on to the last shreds of life?
Not something i want to screw around with.
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