i'd just read the bible and well, it told me about being real inside. being real as in being honest and true without wanting others to see you in a certain way.
y'know, without the persona. sometimes, just sometimes, methinks people do things for the image. actually, a great deal of the time that people do things for the image. saying things for the sake of saying them; doing hings for the sake of appearing cool, pious, gentle, sweet... when in actual fact...
heh.
that happens a great deal in the media. people of the media have to be cool and worldly-wise because that's what they're supposed to be. they have to be attractive, eloquent, camera-ready and know what it is exactly that they're talking about when in truth... nothing against media people, honestly. i guess it's more to do with the idea that we're supposed to be cool.
that we know better.
ya think?
actually these people just may know better. it's a matter of connecting with the right questions that their knowing better will be revealed. we can't be as friendly as the westerners want to cut us out to be, because we're not. we're asians.
even westerners get tongue-tied sometimes because they hardly know a person and it actually takes a superbly friendly person (or a stupendously drunk one, for the dutch courage) to actually come to a group of people to say HELLO! my name is so-and-so and i was wondering if you would like to join me at my party at...
y'know.
...never mind. i think i don't know what i'm talking about at this hour.
and oh, yeah. my lady friend at the cafe is thinking of setting me up. i think she likes me. haha
Monday, November 24, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
"lapdance"
Lara: What’re you doing this Friday? Heading to Harry’s?
Flint: Yes – going for drinks at Harry’s then going home.
Lara: I see! I’m preparing food for my church tomorrow. So exciting!
Flint: Getting baptised again?
Lara: Not baptised again, silly. I hadn’t been baptised yet. It’s a pleasure making stuff for others’ enjoyment.
Flint: Still not baptized? Oh you heathen you.
Lara: Lol just wait till I actually say the word “lapdance”.
Flint: (puts on the “yeah whatever” look)
Lara: (not noticing but puts on the come-hither voice and look) “L----------------
Flint: (turns with a snap, with a look that says “why helloooo there!”)
Lara: (with a bit more rrrr this time, a bit more heavily coquettish) “LLL--------------
Flint: (listens, rapt)
Lara: “L ----------------- (licks lips)-----------------
Flint: (swallows, loosens his collar...)
Lara: "L----------- (comes closer to Flint, eyes closing slowly....)
Flint: (prepares to reach for her...)
Lara: (abrupt) “-apdance”.
Flint: Yes – going for drinks at Harry’s then going home.
Lara: I see! I’m preparing food for my church tomorrow. So exciting!
Flint: Getting baptised again?
Lara: Not baptised again, silly. I hadn’t been baptised yet. It’s a pleasure making stuff for others’ enjoyment.
Flint: Still not baptized? Oh you heathen you.
Lara: Lol just wait till I actually say the word “lapdance”.
Flint: (puts on the “yeah whatever” look)
Lara: (not noticing but puts on the come-hither voice and look) “L----------------
Flint: (turns with a snap, with a look that says “why helloooo there!”)
Lara: (with a bit more rrrr this time, a bit more heavily coquettish) “LLL--------------
Flint: (listens, rapt)
Lara: “L ----------------- (licks lips)-----------------
Flint: (swallows, loosens his collar...)
Lara: "L----------- (comes closer to Flint, eyes closing slowly....)
Flint: (prepares to reach for her...)
Lara: (abrupt) “-apdance”.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
you don't need doctors to tell you this
THIS IS FROM REUTERS. why they take the time to even write this article, i don't know.
---
a1181reutru i BC-DOCTORS-TEXTING/ 11-10 0229
BC-DOCTORS-TEXTING/
Texting while driving is bad, US doctors agree
WASHINGTON, Nov 10 (Reuters) - Tapping out text messages on
a cell phone while driving is dangerous, the American Medical
Association agreed on Monday, and supported state legislation
to ban it.
The group, which represents about 240,000 U.S. physicians,
voted to lend its weight to laws that would make it easier for
police to pull over drivers who are doing it.
"Texting while driving takes the driver's attention away
from the road, which can lead to accidents," said Dr. Peter
Carmel, an AMA board member.
"A recent study found that text messaging while driving
causes a 400 percent increase in time spent with eyes off the
road. No one should have to worry that other drivers are
focused on texting instead of traffic. This is about keeping
people safe on our roads."
The AMA, meeting in Orlando, Florida, said seven states and
Washington, D.C. have bans on text messaging while driving.
Research has shown that talking on cell phones also
distracts drivers and can cause more accidents -- even with
hands-free devices -- and the AMA supports laws against doing
that, too.
The engineer driving a California train that crashed in
September, killing 12 people and injuring 135 in the worst U.S.
train accident in 15 years, was text-messaging seconds before,
federal investigators said.
(Reporting by Maggie Fox, editing by Will Dunham and
Cynthia Osterman)
REUTERS
Reut 22:20 11-10-08
---
a1181reutru i BC-DOCTORS-TEXTING/ 11-10 0229
BC-DOCTORS-TEXTING/
Texting while driving is bad, US doctors agree
WASHINGTON, Nov 10 (Reuters) - Tapping out text messages on
a cell phone while driving is dangerous, the American Medical
Association agreed on Monday, and supported state legislation
to ban it.
The group, which represents about 240,000 U.S. physicians,
voted to lend its weight to laws that would make it easier for
police to pull over drivers who are doing it.
"Texting while driving takes the driver's attention away
from the road, which can lead to accidents," said Dr. Peter
Carmel, an AMA board member.
"A recent study found that text messaging while driving
causes a 400 percent increase in time spent with eyes off the
road. No one should have to worry that other drivers are
focused on texting instead of traffic. This is about keeping
people safe on our roads."
The AMA, meeting in Orlando, Florida, said seven states and
Washington, D.C. have bans on text messaging while driving.
Research has shown that talking on cell phones also
distracts drivers and can cause more accidents -- even with
hands-free devices -- and the AMA supports laws against doing
that, too.
The engineer driving a California train that crashed in
September, killing 12 people and injuring 135 in the worst U.S.
train accident in 15 years, was text-messaging seconds before,
federal investigators said.
(Reporting by Maggie Fox, editing by Will Dunham and
Cynthia Osterman)
REUTERS
Reut 22:20 11-10-08
Sunday, November 09, 2008
dating
i realise i've been dating. i've been seeing this guy for three days running.
it's fast by normal standards, then again it's only been three days.
but i don't feel that it's too fast. i'm comfortable with it, perhaps because i have given my self to God, that's why i don't feel the need to belong to someone else. there is a sense of peace and equilibrium.
helps that chap's pretty cute and the right kind of intense.
after chris though, boy. i just want to be careful. like, careful, never mind that he's calling back.
and careful i will be.
it's fast by normal standards, then again it's only been three days.
but i don't feel that it's too fast. i'm comfortable with it, perhaps because i have given my self to God, that's why i don't feel the need to belong to someone else. there is a sense of peace and equilibrium.
helps that chap's pretty cute and the right kind of intense.
after chris though, boy. i just want to be careful. like, careful, never mind that he's calling back.
and careful i will be.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
about teenage sexuality
today i saw on channel news asia cheryl fox taking on the oft-tackled topic of adolescent sexperiments and therefore, teen pregnancies.
it reminds me of the topics that we had to consider and ponder through when i was at that age. they now have reality shows, we had tv dramas, mini-movies that tackled sex, drugs, pregnancies. people like my friends and i never did have that kind of urge... perhaps because we didn't know what we were missing, and therefore didn't lose anything by not even trying.
truthfully, i didn't know where the urge to sexperiment came from when it came to secondary school kids. i cannot understand that as i hadn't been sexually driven when i was that age. i wasn't even very interested in the topic until much later - and by then i've already worked out what i would do if i were ever caught in that kind of situation.
sure, there were the thrashy novels that make me and a certain few blush, but that does not mean we went ahead and found ourselves boyfriends and so we can get down to business. in fact, we didn't get boyfriends at all.
oh there were crushes alright, but the focus was on studies then, not relationships. nonetheless, the idea of love was way more naive and simpler. we were, after all, influenced by taiwanese shows in which "one love, one life" was endlessly harped upon. impossible matches of rich-boy-poor-girl were rampant; i guess that helped shape the ideals we now have.
but i digress. so cheryl fox was interviewing teenagers about their babies (for those who got pregnant), teenagers who saw other teenagers get amorous at void decks, at playgrounds, and teenagers who... well, cruised through it all. which is to say that they weren't bothered like most of my friends weren't bothered.
so one of them said something about being curious about sex during the interview and i recall becoming scornful.
i still am, possibly because i cannot relate, nor understand why anyone could be curious.
i mean, i'm no virgin. i've had my fair share of make-outs and boyfriends... and truth be told, reading about how good sex feels the way they're described in romance novels - it's much like being told how fireworks look like and having a free fall.
which isn't wrong nor inaccurate.
it's just that to get there it takes more than just a teenager with a loaded gun, you get what i mean? sure, the kids sexperiment, but the girls, ho my goodness the girls - if grown men take forever to find the g spot do you really think young boys can hit it at first go?
seriously.
so... if it doesn't feel that great for the girl during make-out sessions and sex is almost always painful the first time round, why aren't the girls turned off yet?
perhaps they fancied themselves really in love, which may well be the case? i know i'm not one to discount the ability to feel love. perhaps my scorn stemmed from the understanding that these young boys won't know what to do when shit hits the fan and flies far.
don't the girls know that? or did they neglect the idea of condoms?
or perhaps they were like the two in JUNO? judging by the kind of ads that came up and the rising number of teen pregnancies - i'm guessing most aren't like the two in the above-mentioned movie.
heh. i wish they hadn't have to learn the hard way. life sometimes doesn't give second chances.
it reminds me of the topics that we had to consider and ponder through when i was at that age. they now have reality shows, we had tv dramas, mini-movies that tackled sex, drugs, pregnancies. people like my friends and i never did have that kind of urge... perhaps because we didn't know what we were missing, and therefore didn't lose anything by not even trying.
truthfully, i didn't know where the urge to sexperiment came from when it came to secondary school kids. i cannot understand that as i hadn't been sexually driven when i was that age. i wasn't even very interested in the topic until much later - and by then i've already worked out what i would do if i were ever caught in that kind of situation.
sure, there were the thrashy novels that make me and a certain few blush, but that does not mean we went ahead and found ourselves boyfriends and so we can get down to business. in fact, we didn't get boyfriends at all.
oh there were crushes alright, but the focus was on studies then, not relationships. nonetheless, the idea of love was way more naive and simpler. we were, after all, influenced by taiwanese shows in which "one love, one life" was endlessly harped upon. impossible matches of rich-boy-poor-girl were rampant; i guess that helped shape the ideals we now have.
but i digress. so cheryl fox was interviewing teenagers about their babies (for those who got pregnant), teenagers who saw other teenagers get amorous at void decks, at playgrounds, and teenagers who... well, cruised through it all. which is to say that they weren't bothered like most of my friends weren't bothered.
so one of them said something about being curious about sex during the interview and i recall becoming scornful.
i still am, possibly because i cannot relate, nor understand why anyone could be curious.
i mean, i'm no virgin. i've had my fair share of make-outs and boyfriends... and truth be told, reading about how good sex feels the way they're described in romance novels - it's much like being told how fireworks look like and having a free fall.
which isn't wrong nor inaccurate.
it's just that to get there it takes more than just a teenager with a loaded gun, you get what i mean? sure, the kids sexperiment, but the girls, ho my goodness the girls - if grown men take forever to find the g spot do you really think young boys can hit it at first go?
seriously.
so... if it doesn't feel that great for the girl during make-out sessions and sex is almost always painful the first time round, why aren't the girls turned off yet?
perhaps they fancied themselves really in love, which may well be the case? i know i'm not one to discount the ability to feel love. perhaps my scorn stemmed from the understanding that these young boys won't know what to do when shit hits the fan and flies far.
don't the girls know that? or did they neglect the idea of condoms?
or perhaps they were like the two in JUNO? judging by the kind of ads that came up and the rising number of teen pregnancies - i'm guessing most aren't like the two in the above-mentioned movie.
heh. i wish they hadn't have to learn the hard way. life sometimes doesn't give second chances.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
nothing more to add, your honour
sometimes, just sometimes, when i finally step in through the door of my room, out and away from the world, i let out a breath of life.
then i think, what's there left to say?
what's necessary has been said and done. i couldn't have done it better nor could i have done it worse. i'm not sorry neither, for whatever that's happened.
no regrets, that's been my motto.
and now, i add another one: make a decision, stick to it.
it doesn't matter if others say the same thing but don't know what it means. what matters is that i do, and that i stick with it. cause i mean what i say and say what i mean.
no regrets.
then i think, what's there left to say?
what's necessary has been said and done. i couldn't have done it better nor could i have done it worse. i'm not sorry neither, for whatever that's happened.
no regrets, that's been my motto.
and now, i add another one: make a decision, stick to it.
it doesn't matter if others say the same thing but don't know what it means. what matters is that i do, and that i stick with it. cause i mean what i say and say what i mean.
no regrets.
Monday, October 27, 2008
a possibly strange idea
today i was looking into the mirror after my hair has dried, and i saw that there is this kink, on - in - my fringe that meanders (if hair meanders) in a loose s-shape across my forehead. it is a stranger amidst the straight-laced rest of my hair.
it irritates me, because i took pains to not have my hair meander so. that's why i had part of my hair rebonded, so it will not meander as it grows out. the fringe was left untouched because as hair goes, it will not to do have a flat fringe: i did not want to look like my entire head had been blown dry from above. as a result of that thought a tress of my fringe is now actively meandering across my er, countenance.
i know it will become "pretty hot" when it gets longer but right now it says "DIDN'T BOTHER TO COMB HAIR". which in all due honestly was probably true, considering the fact that trying to pull a comb through my hair is a lot like trying to pull a plough through a tangle of nets.
when it's wet, i mean.
but that's what rebonding was supposed to resolve, see? i straightened my hair so i won't have to comb it. isn't what why a lot of people rebond their hair anyway?
so the funky funky fringe has a personality. just like its owner. even the rebonded parts - despite being rebonded they still retain that slight bit of a curve, a hint of a kink, just to say "ha!", if anything.
as i stared at the tress brush in hand, i had an eureka moment.
i realised that i wouldn't quite be as pleased if i were to be perfect. i mean, that's what the media is for. they give you perfection, because you expect it, and that's how you expect perfection to look like, a generic perfect-ness, does it make sense?
hair has to be sleek or sexily wild, the make-up must be flawless and the lashes must be just so. then the rest of it all, the suit, the pumps, the shell buttons and that newscaster "so how do the rich and famous spend their weekends?" way of speaking.
sure, i want to be perfect, but i'd hate to be generic. i don't want to sound like every newscaster there was on teevee. i don't want to be every marilyn monroe that ever traipsed across the screen, honour that may be.
i want to be me.
and if having a kink in my hair means that i'm more believable, more human and more of a loren than anyone else, then wow, i'll take that kink anytime.
consider these two illustrations: -
"she's tall but not too tall, slim, almost but not quite to the point of being skinny. there is a certain jaunt in her movements, the same kind of jaunt hats have when placed at certain angles on peoples' heads, that makes peoples' eyes seek and rest on her. it is apparent that her hair has been put through some chemical process they call rebonding, a process that makes the hair appear silkier and more groomed... though somehow the hairdresser must have missed a strand: a tress at the corner of her forehead that seemed to have escaped that chemical fate."
and
"she's perfect."
uh. what? sorry, i must've blinked.
"she's perfect."
ah. right.
uh. so. right.
seriously, how else do you describe perfection? perfection in itself - correct me if i'm wrong here, please - but isn't perfection, in itself, a manner of generism*?
i don't know if you're going to call this sour grapes, but i'd really rather have unique points about me so my kids will have something to write about me when - if - they decide to write about me, assuming i am going to have kids in the future, so that i'm uniquely, definitively and unmistakably me rather than a shadow and imprint of every say, movie starlet there was.
so... while i may not be a movie star, while i have stubborn kinky hair that defies all chemical logic and have one ear higher than the other - i'm kinda glad that hey, these things make me who i am, they make me recognisable.
i want to be me. not a hollywood barbie everybody likes but nobody recognises. i mean, what if i got murdered and everything rotted away and only my ears remained?? we have to think about such things, folks!
so yes. i want to be me. not barbie, not manufactured.
me.
it irritates me, because i took pains to not have my hair meander so. that's why i had part of my hair rebonded, so it will not meander as it grows out. the fringe was left untouched because as hair goes, it will not to do have a flat fringe: i did not want to look like my entire head had been blown dry from above. as a result of that thought a tress of my fringe is now actively meandering across my er, countenance.
i know it will become "pretty hot" when it gets longer but right now it says "DIDN'T BOTHER TO COMB HAIR". which in all due honestly was probably true, considering the fact that trying to pull a comb through my hair is a lot like trying to pull a plough through a tangle of nets.
when it's wet, i mean.
but that's what rebonding was supposed to resolve, see? i straightened my hair so i won't have to comb it. isn't what why a lot of people rebond their hair anyway?
so the funky funky fringe has a personality. just like its owner. even the rebonded parts - despite being rebonded they still retain that slight bit of a curve, a hint of a kink, just to say "ha!", if anything.
as i stared at the tress brush in hand, i had an eureka moment.
i realised that i wouldn't quite be as pleased if i were to be perfect. i mean, that's what the media is for. they give you perfection, because you expect it, and that's how you expect perfection to look like, a generic perfect-ness, does it make sense?
hair has to be sleek or sexily wild, the make-up must be flawless and the lashes must be just so. then the rest of it all, the suit, the pumps, the shell buttons and that newscaster "so how do the rich and famous spend their weekends?" way of speaking.
sure, i want to be perfect, but i'd hate to be generic. i don't want to sound like every newscaster there was on teevee. i don't want to be every marilyn monroe that ever traipsed across the screen, honour that may be.
i want to be me.
and if having a kink in my hair means that i'm more believable, more human and more of a loren than anyone else, then wow, i'll take that kink anytime.
consider these two illustrations: -
"she's tall but not too tall, slim, almost but not quite to the point of being skinny. there is a certain jaunt in her movements, the same kind of jaunt hats have when placed at certain angles on peoples' heads, that makes peoples' eyes seek and rest on her. it is apparent that her hair has been put through some chemical process they call rebonding, a process that makes the hair appear silkier and more groomed... though somehow the hairdresser must have missed a strand: a tress at the corner of her forehead that seemed to have escaped that chemical fate."
and
"she's perfect."
uh. what? sorry, i must've blinked.
"she's perfect."
ah. right.
uh. so. right.
seriously, how else do you describe perfection? perfection in itself - correct me if i'm wrong here, please - but isn't perfection, in itself, a manner of generism*?
i don't know if you're going to call this sour grapes, but i'd really rather have unique points about me so my kids will have something to write about me when - if - they decide to write about me, assuming i am going to have kids in the future, so that i'm uniquely, definitively and unmistakably me rather than a shadow and imprint of every say, movie starlet there was.
so... while i may not be a movie star, while i have stubborn kinky hair that defies all chemical logic and have one ear higher than the other - i'm kinda glad that hey, these things make me who i am, they make me recognisable.
i want to be me. not a hollywood barbie everybody likes but nobody recognises. i mean, what if i got murdered and everything rotted away and only my ears remained?? we have to think about such things, folks!
so yes. i want to be me. not barbie, not manufactured.
me.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
home
where is home?
i live by myself. i envy those who live with their folks, still. when shit happens i only have myself.
and the song speaks well.
I'm loving living every single day but sometimes I feel so....
I hope to find a little peace of mind and I just want to know.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home.
If we could make it through the darkest Night we'd have a brighter day.
The world I see beyond your pretty eyes, makes me want to stay.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home.
I count on you, no matter what they say, cause love can find its time.
I hope to be a part of you again, baby let us shine.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home....
i live by myself. i envy those who live with their folks, still. when shit happens i only have myself.
and the song speaks well.
I'm loving living every single day but sometimes I feel so....
I hope to find a little peace of mind and I just want to know.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home.
If we could make it through the darkest Night we'd have a brighter day.
The world I see beyond your pretty eyes, makes me want to stay.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home.
I count on you, no matter what they say, cause love can find its time.
I hope to be a part of you again, baby let us shine.
And who can heal those tiny broken hearts, and what are we to be.
Where is home on the milky way of stars, I dry my eyes again.
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home
In my dreams I am not so far away from home,
What am I in a world so far away from home,
All my life all the time so far away from home,
Without you I will be so far away from home....
today
today, i wrote a lot of things to a certain someone.
i could've sent it to him, but i didn't. what would be the point, really?
if someone does not want to move forward he will not move forward.
i love him.
so what? i made a decision. so stick with it.
like the psychiatrists say about changing lightbulbs: it's not about how many psychiatrists it takes to change the lightbulb. it's about whether the lightbulb wants to change itself.
i could've sent it to him, but i didn't. what would be the point, really?
if someone does not want to move forward he will not move forward.
i love him.
so what? i made a decision. so stick with it.
like the psychiatrists say about changing lightbulbs: it's not about how many psychiatrists it takes to change the lightbulb. it's about whether the lightbulb wants to change itself.
blather
minister mentor said that it is best for graduates to marry graduates. okay. so... wow. it's true, i understand, that it'll be best if both parties are at the same intellectual level as the other, and he uses that as a yardstick.
after all, it is hard to find another form of measurement, other than "do you have a degree", because... well, degrees certainly mean that you are the kind to be able to sit down at the desk to study, no?
and if you cannot, then you're probably in a polytechnic somewhere, nothing against polytechnics or any other institutions, really. the reason why i bring this us is because where you go to reflects your kind of personality and preferences. people with degrees are probably more interested in (or at least don't mind) debates, exploring sides of the same coin, love (or at least don't mind) reading - as opposed to those who absolutely cannot stand reading, debates, et cetera.
that is of course, a general statement and definitely there will be exceptions to the rule. but seriously. sometimes it is just hard to talk to a person who doesn't understand where you're coming from.
that is vastly different from talking to someone who knows what you're talking about but rejects it.
one may well be as frustrating as the other, true, but it is undeniable that the two are very, very different from each other.
personally, i find people who do not understand me to be a bigger source of irritation than those who were to reject my opinions, simply because the latter understand what i'm talking about. with those who cannot understand what i'm talking about, there is a lack of connection; like all my ammo has been aimed and fired at where i thought bullseye would be when the bullseye probably never was there to start with.
i am not a supporter of the supposed elitist way, no. i am not one of the elites neither, if you must know. i do not possess a degree, if that's how one begins to qualify to be an elite, or to begin be an elitist.
i think the reason why minister mentor said what he said about marriage is because two people should have similar ways of thought and doing things i suppose. i don't know the man personally and i can only guess, as sometimes... well, what you're not familiar with causes worry. he cannot say similarity in background will guarantee similarity in thought, because well, it's true.
what he can be more sure of though, is that once two people have gone through similar ways of coaching chances are they will have similar ways of thought. not completely, but at least to a certain, if not large, extent. and sometimes it's just important to be able to understand and appreciate what the other is talking about - and a similar level of education gives you that, even if two people were to have majored in very different subjects.
i'm not saying that only people of similar educational level can understand what the other is saying; there are obviously exceptions to the rule. it's just that, well, that's the most logical way to measure how two people can survive as a couple, as parents, as partners.
so what's my point, really, after blathering on about what the MM has said?
well, my point is that i see the virtue in his words, and that i agree. it might not be very well-received (thanks to taiwanese and korean drama serials), but it makes sense.
...also... sometimes, just sometimes... people of a certain educational level will tend to not take the "less-educated" partner less seriously, because of pride. we can go on to discuss how a person of a lower education level may look up to the one with the higher level of education and it might work our just fine.
but what if the one with the higher (not better education, but higher) education feels somewhat contemptuous of the one with the lower education over time and suddenly her loving care and adoration isn't enough to compensate for her "not knowing enough"?
well. i am a firm believer that education does not automatically mean schooled. so many people are educated but unschooled, wow. just look around you, they're all over in singapore.
i reiterate: i agree with what MM has said about marrying within your education level, for practical reasons cited above, and then some. again, there will be exceptions to rules, but those are probably not many. it takes a certain kind of person to be happy in marriage i realise, no matter who the spouse might be.
it's just a little sad that somehow, somewhere, people have forgotten how to be happy.
after all, it is hard to find another form of measurement, other than "do you have a degree", because... well, degrees certainly mean that you are the kind to be able to sit down at the desk to study, no?
and if you cannot, then you're probably in a polytechnic somewhere, nothing against polytechnics or any other institutions, really. the reason why i bring this us is because where you go to reflects your kind of personality and preferences. people with degrees are probably more interested in (or at least don't mind) debates, exploring sides of the same coin, love (or at least don't mind) reading - as opposed to those who absolutely cannot stand reading, debates, et cetera.
that is of course, a general statement and definitely there will be exceptions to the rule. but seriously. sometimes it is just hard to talk to a person who doesn't understand where you're coming from.
that is vastly different from talking to someone who knows what you're talking about but rejects it.
one may well be as frustrating as the other, true, but it is undeniable that the two are very, very different from each other.
personally, i find people who do not understand me to be a bigger source of irritation than those who were to reject my opinions, simply because the latter understand what i'm talking about. with those who cannot understand what i'm talking about, there is a lack of connection; like all my ammo has been aimed and fired at where i thought bullseye would be when the bullseye probably never was there to start with.
i am not a supporter of the supposed elitist way, no. i am not one of the elites neither, if you must know. i do not possess a degree, if that's how one begins to qualify to be an elite, or to begin be an elitist.
i think the reason why minister mentor said what he said about marriage is because two people should have similar ways of thought and doing things i suppose. i don't know the man personally and i can only guess, as sometimes... well, what you're not familiar with causes worry. he cannot say similarity in background will guarantee similarity in thought, because well, it's true.
what he can be more sure of though, is that once two people have gone through similar ways of coaching chances are they will have similar ways of thought. not completely, but at least to a certain, if not large, extent. and sometimes it's just important to be able to understand and appreciate what the other is talking about - and a similar level of education gives you that, even if two people were to have majored in very different subjects.
i'm not saying that only people of similar educational level can understand what the other is saying; there are obviously exceptions to the rule. it's just that, well, that's the most logical way to measure how two people can survive as a couple, as parents, as partners.
so what's my point, really, after blathering on about what the MM has said?
well, my point is that i see the virtue in his words, and that i agree. it might not be very well-received (thanks to taiwanese and korean drama serials), but it makes sense.
...also... sometimes, just sometimes... people of a certain educational level will tend to not take the "less-educated" partner less seriously, because of pride. we can go on to discuss how a person of a lower education level may look up to the one with the higher level of education and it might work our just fine.
but what if the one with the higher (not better education, but higher) education feels somewhat contemptuous of the one with the lower education over time and suddenly her loving care and adoration isn't enough to compensate for her "not knowing enough"?
well. i am a firm believer that education does not automatically mean schooled. so many people are educated but unschooled, wow. just look around you, they're all over in singapore.
i reiterate: i agree with what MM has said about marrying within your education level, for practical reasons cited above, and then some. again, there will be exceptions to rules, but those are probably not many. it takes a certain kind of person to be happy in marriage i realise, no matter who the spouse might be.
it's just a little sad that somehow, somewhere, people have forgotten how to be happy.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
hand-washing, ladies and starbucks
i often wonder, as i wash my hands after i'm done with the necessary in the lavatory, that why we women wash our hands, regardless of whether the loo-visit was for the purpose of a tinkle or for something more.
before you condemn me for one who's against hand-washing: i'm not. i am honestly curious about this ritual, is all. and yes, i do wash my hands each time i go to the ladies. but why, i often wonder absently about others. i know why i wash my hands each time i'm at the ladies.*
i mean, boys (cough) - men - need to handle certain equipment when they tinkle (that's the tradeoff for not having to sit). women don't. not really, no. and not all the time, especially when alone.
men need to unzip, fish out their woo-woos, hold them in place, give it a shake when they're done then put it back where it belongs. well, that's a private part they'd just touched so of course they need to wash their hands. but women?
other than those who come into actual, manual contact with bodily outputs - correct me if i'm wrong here, please - most urbane women do not, in actual fact, come into direct contact with certain parts of their own body. until when they shower, presumably.
so... why do we wash our hands when we go to the ladies? so our hands can smell nice? to fulfill an unwritten societal demand that thine hands must be washed each time thou goest to the ladies and they must be moist and smell of that lavender handwash from department Nix from Sector Two so thou may pass through the scanner at the Portal to return to thine Motherboard?
come on people, really. we have loo paper most of the time; once we're done with wiping, hey, it's done.
no, no i'm not saying that "wow, hey you water-wasters, don't wash your hands!" i'm saying "are we wasting water when we hadn't really touched anything?"
are we, unknowingly, the STARBUCKS of society, albeit more sporadic and somewhat compulsive?
after all, it's not like we're spraying it right out so that the stall's full of vapour - if that were the case i'd honestly advocate more than just washing your hands.
but seriously. it comes out in a stream right into the bowlful of water, and stays there. then we clean the rest up with a bit of paper.
so... what contact, and what contamination? are we trying to prevent buildup of germs by washing? so... we prevent germs by washing after we're done with the ladies... then come back to touch the keyboard? then proceed to pick up that donut we bought for tea..?
what's worse, really?
well, i know why i wash my hands, and why i wash them often. i hope you do, too.
i hope we're not simply wasting water, because we happen to have loads of it.
i really hope it. so. the question is: do you know why you're washing your hands?
i do. i know i do. do you?
---
* i wash my hands each time i'm at the ladies because i handle the papers a lot. my fingers are almost always stained black by both glue and newspaper ink. it does not help that i have sweaty palms.
i wash my hands before i even go into the stall because i worry about my pretty panties that would show grubby marks of my own fingers: what if i was about to get hit by a bus and then the bus sees them fingerprints, misunderstands, and decides to hit something else?
can you imagine the embarassment in trying to explain an it's-so-ordinary-it's-absurd predicament? God forbid that you miss the moment, cause you know in your heart that each time you see that person you will try to broach the subject and try to explain but it is never going to be an appropriate time and place and situation for you to do so anymore.
so. i'd rather wash my hands than have to live down that kind of trigger-able SILENT SCREAM. same reason why some people say "always wear pretty underwear in case you get hit by a bus."
not that i'm ever-ready to get hit by a bus. more like if i'm going to die, i'll die with no regrets, because my hands are washed.
before you condemn me for one who's against hand-washing: i'm not. i am honestly curious about this ritual, is all. and yes, i do wash my hands each time i go to the ladies. but why, i often wonder absently about others. i know why i wash my hands each time i'm at the ladies.*
i mean, boys (cough) - men - need to handle certain equipment when they tinkle (that's the tradeoff for not having to sit). women don't. not really, no. and not all the time, especially when alone.
men need to unzip, fish out their woo-woos, hold them in place, give it a shake when they're done then put it back where it belongs. well, that's a private part they'd just touched so of course they need to wash their hands. but women?
other than those who come into actual, manual contact with bodily outputs - correct me if i'm wrong here, please - most urbane women do not, in actual fact, come into direct contact with certain parts of their own body. until when they shower, presumably.
so... why do we wash our hands when we go to the ladies? so our hands can smell nice? to fulfill an unwritten societal demand that thine hands must be washed each time thou goest to the ladies and they must be moist and smell of that lavender handwash from department Nix from Sector Two so thou may pass through the scanner at the Portal to return to thine Motherboard?
come on people, really. we have loo paper most of the time; once we're done with wiping, hey, it's done.
no, no i'm not saying that "wow, hey you water-wasters, don't wash your hands!" i'm saying "are we wasting water when we hadn't really touched anything?"
are we, unknowingly, the STARBUCKS of society, albeit more sporadic and somewhat compulsive?
after all, it's not like we're spraying it right out so that the stall's full of vapour - if that were the case i'd honestly advocate more than just washing your hands.
but seriously. it comes out in a stream right into the bowlful of water, and stays there. then we clean the rest up with a bit of paper.
so... what contact, and what contamination? are we trying to prevent buildup of germs by washing? so... we prevent germs by washing after we're done with the ladies... then come back to touch the keyboard? then proceed to pick up that donut we bought for tea..?
what's worse, really?
well, i know why i wash my hands, and why i wash them often. i hope you do, too.
i hope we're not simply wasting water, because we happen to have loads of it.
i really hope it. so. the question is: do you know why you're washing your hands?
i do. i know i do. do you?
---
* i wash my hands each time i'm at the ladies because i handle the papers a lot. my fingers are almost always stained black by both glue and newspaper ink. it does not help that i have sweaty palms.
i wash my hands before i even go into the stall because i worry about my pretty panties that would show grubby marks of my own fingers: what if i was about to get hit by a bus and then the bus sees them fingerprints, misunderstands, and decides to hit something else?
can you imagine the embarassment in trying to explain an it's-so-ordinary-it's-absurd predicament? God forbid that you miss the moment, cause you know in your heart that each time you see that person you will try to broach the subject and try to explain but it is never going to be an appropriate time and place and situation for you to do so anymore.
so. i'd rather wash my hands than have to live down that kind of trigger-able SILENT SCREAM. same reason why some people say "always wear pretty underwear in case you get hit by a bus."
not that i'm ever-ready to get hit by a bus. more like if i'm going to die, i'll die with no regrets, because my hands are washed.
Monday, September 29, 2008
crystal ball
sometimes i wonder, what is this itch that grows from within my being? the propulsion that happens inside of me every now and then, that tells me that i need to do something more, because i can?
i realised, today, that hey, i've learnt some stuffs about the world in general, and that's the kinda stuff that most others won't have, nor want to talk to you about because they know squat about them. i mean, politics and economy?? and sometimes because i know a little bit more than others do the conversation becomes stilted, cause nobody really can carry on a conversation without additional ammo, so to speak, to carry on with.
i know, because it's happening more and more often. not because i know a great deal, of course, but because whatever i know they don't know and whatever they know i don't. it also does not help when i get conversation fodder like fashion, who's worn what, which's the newest watch, where the swarovski-studded shoes are, suchlike.
i mean, what happened to topics like how to run a business, for example? how to rear fish? how to invest, what various financial tools are, how to manage people, how to deal with tough customers, how to keep the company's reputation up - this kind of topics? whatever happened to those?
i'd love to listen to these. but do i get them?
noooo.
i get things like:-
• the weather - which is alright as long as they're talking about typhoons, taiwan, ike, after they get past singapore's roiling humidity
• fashion - which i like but don't follow like a KARL LAGERFELD stalker
• parties - superficial. why talk about them when you only need to turn up and attend them? i personally don't see the point of saying "oh hey, were you there at the party last night?" when if you were not too busy getting bloody drunk you most probably would know whether he/she was at the party or not. and if you weren't drunk? what're you trying to prove to whomever's within earshot of your query? that you have a life? please.
• who's snogged whom - does it really matter to you??? if it does i'm saying do something about it, and fast.
so i do nothing but sit on my arse and read articles. precisely because i do nothing but sit on my arse and read articles. i like my job, but somehow, just somehow, it gets a little bit stagnant.
so what is it, God? why am i there for, other than resting and taking the necessary step of cutting some people loose and then healing from there, where privacy is allowed and independence is unapologetically granted? will You let me know when i am to move on, Sir?
Right now i am at peace, mostly. the sense that something should be happening is assailing me and i need some action at the workplace, action wherein i may feel good about. not that i don't feel good about my work now Lord, but that it's... wow. i need something more.
give me something more, Lord, more responsibility. let me learn. let me venture and speak with people, interact with people and good heavens, please show me the boundaries so i may push them! i have energy, i can commit, but let it be worthwhile and interesting!
let me leave the ratrace having enjoyed every moment of it. in Jesus' Name i pray, amen.
i realised, today, that hey, i've learnt some stuffs about the world in general, and that's the kinda stuff that most others won't have, nor want to talk to you about because they know squat about them. i mean, politics and economy?? and sometimes because i know a little bit more than others do the conversation becomes stilted, cause nobody really can carry on a conversation without additional ammo, so to speak, to carry on with.
i know, because it's happening more and more often. not because i know a great deal, of course, but because whatever i know they don't know and whatever they know i don't. it also does not help when i get conversation fodder like fashion, who's worn what, which's the newest watch, where the swarovski-studded shoes are, suchlike.
i mean, what happened to topics like how to run a business, for example? how to rear fish? how to invest, what various financial tools are, how to manage people, how to deal with tough customers, how to keep the company's reputation up - this kind of topics? whatever happened to those?
i'd love to listen to these. but do i get them?
noooo.
i get things like:-
• the weather - which is alright as long as they're talking about typhoons, taiwan, ike, after they get past singapore's roiling humidity
• fashion - which i like but don't follow like a KARL LAGERFELD stalker
• parties - superficial. why talk about them when you only need to turn up and attend them? i personally don't see the point of saying "oh hey, were you there at the party last night?" when if you were not too busy getting bloody drunk you most probably would know whether he/she was at the party or not. and if you weren't drunk? what're you trying to prove to whomever's within earshot of your query? that you have a life? please.
• who's snogged whom - does it really matter to you??? if it does i'm saying do something about it, and fast.
so i do nothing but sit on my arse and read articles. precisely because i do nothing but sit on my arse and read articles. i like my job, but somehow, just somehow, it gets a little bit stagnant.
so what is it, God? why am i there for, other than resting and taking the necessary step of cutting some people loose and then healing from there, where privacy is allowed and independence is unapologetically granted? will You let me know when i am to move on, Sir?
Right now i am at peace, mostly. the sense that something should be happening is assailing me and i need some action at the workplace, action wherein i may feel good about. not that i don't feel good about my work now Lord, but that it's... wow. i need something more.
give me something more, Lord, more responsibility. let me learn. let me venture and speak with people, interact with people and good heavens, please show me the boundaries so i may push them! i have energy, i can commit, but let it be worthwhile and interesting!
let me leave the ratrace having enjoyed every moment of it. in Jesus' Name i pray, amen.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
ooh i'm going to see a racer tomorrow! on company time, too!
good golly, i love my job :))
then, then! day after that i get to wear this pretty dress and have reason to walk around like that in botanic gardens talking about F1 and JOHNNIE WALKER.
i can't wait!
good golly, i love my job :))
then, then! day after that i get to wear this pretty dress and have reason to walk around like that in botanic gardens talking about F1 and JOHNNIE WALKER.
i can't wait!
Friday, September 19, 2008
johnny walker night
i had gone for training for an event as classy as crystal decanters and long-stemmed glasses - dressed smartly as usual in my short button-up dress topped off with my black jacket.
only i was carrying far too many books (three exercisebookfuls of good honest stuff, from economical articles to GARRISON KEILLOR's witty pieces - and a book by niccolo machiavelli. yes, that scheming bastard) - and a bottle of shampoo.
don't ask me why i had a bottle of shampoo, i just do, okay?*
anyways. so the training went on and we found out aaall about johnny walker and the blue label, how it started and how it's going on, how the blue label has earned it stripes, so to speak.
suffice to say, we had bombarded our trainer (his name's colin) mercilessly with questions. being the indulgent host that he is, however, he answered our questions patiently and with humour, then proceeded to take us out to the bar, where he mixed magic cocktails for the bunch of us**.
the cocktails were especially created with the coming F1 race in mind and sported names like pitstop, yellow flag, suchlike. we sampled these mixes and suffice to say, they're a hit both with the ladies and the gentlemen. we had about six cocktails in all, and these mixes are sold only at six other places (with pretty names like "hilton" and "marriott").
being the bold, demanding chit that i am, i had requested that we have a taste of the blue label with ice water, as colin had so deliciously described when he was enlightening us to the joys and pleasures of the best whisky in the world. and boy, was i glad that i was the bold, demanding chit!
colin had instructed us that the palate needs to be cooled with plain water before it should touch any of the liquid gold - the palate must be chilled. when the whisky touched our tongues, omigosh - the divine flavours i never knew existed - nor ever thought could exist in a whisky - fanned and spread themselves out in my mouth.
whatever the japanese comics had illustrated when the characters tasted good food? those happened to me when the flavours blossomed on my tastebuds. the best bit was when i breathed out - now that's another flavour altogether.
whatever idea i had about a whisky being a man's drink had suddenly become hogwash, sudden enlightenment dictates that the only reason why i had equated whisky to paint-stripping agents was because i was drinking paint-stripping agents.
blue label and paint-strippers? vast difference.
and thus came the end of the evening. colin, as before, was gracious and i was a little sorry to go, but am glad that i am an ambassador of this particular whisky.
* unless you really want an answer. and if you really wanted an answer i would have told you that it's because I BOUGHT A BOTTLE OF SHAMPOO. BECAUSE I WANTED IT.
** comprised of four team leaders in the F&B industry (they've got the know-how as to how to treat a guest right), four of us whisky girls and jackeline, nixon and albert, our minders. ahem. "minders". it makes me feel posh just saying that.
only i was carrying far too many books (three exercisebookfuls of good honest stuff, from economical articles to GARRISON KEILLOR's witty pieces - and a book by niccolo machiavelli. yes, that scheming bastard) - and a bottle of shampoo.
don't ask me why i had a bottle of shampoo, i just do, okay?*
anyways. so the training went on and we found out aaall about johnny walker and the blue label, how it started and how it's going on, how the blue label has earned it stripes, so to speak.
suffice to say, we had bombarded our trainer (his name's colin) mercilessly with questions. being the indulgent host that he is, however, he answered our questions patiently and with humour, then proceeded to take us out to the bar, where he mixed magic cocktails for the bunch of us**.
the cocktails were especially created with the coming F1 race in mind and sported names like pitstop, yellow flag, suchlike. we sampled these mixes and suffice to say, they're a hit both with the ladies and the gentlemen. we had about six cocktails in all, and these mixes are sold only at six other places (with pretty names like "hilton" and "marriott").
being the bold, demanding chit that i am, i had requested that we have a taste of the blue label with ice water, as colin had so deliciously described when he was enlightening us to the joys and pleasures of the best whisky in the world. and boy, was i glad that i was the bold, demanding chit!
colin had instructed us that the palate needs to be cooled with plain water before it should touch any of the liquid gold - the palate must be chilled. when the whisky touched our tongues, omigosh - the divine flavours i never knew existed - nor ever thought could exist in a whisky - fanned and spread themselves out in my mouth.
whatever the japanese comics had illustrated when the characters tasted good food? those happened to me when the flavours blossomed on my tastebuds. the best bit was when i breathed out - now that's another flavour altogether.
whatever idea i had about a whisky being a man's drink had suddenly become hogwash, sudden enlightenment dictates that the only reason why i had equated whisky to paint-stripping agents was because i was drinking paint-stripping agents.
blue label and paint-strippers? vast difference.
and thus came the end of the evening. colin, as before, was gracious and i was a little sorry to go, but am glad that i am an ambassador of this particular whisky.
* unless you really want an answer. and if you really wanted an answer i would have told you that it's because I BOUGHT A BOTTLE OF SHAMPOO. BECAUSE I WANTED IT.
** comprised of four team leaders in the F&B industry (they've got the know-how as to how to treat a guest right), four of us whisky girls and jackeline, nixon and albert, our minders. ahem. "minders". it makes me feel posh just saying that.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
meal with a friend who's going away
had a meal tonight with a friend who's leaving for thailand tomorrow. there were four of us, all buddies from the days of yore, when i sported a spikey 'do because i thought it was a bad idea to stop the hairdresser from being creative.
we all have grown smarter and wiser since then and... yeah. it's a joy to meet up and have a meal together.
jasmine's going to thailand tomorrow. we sang in the van that had a broken back window in full-throated triumph on the highway - and that's the way life should be.
...but i could feel shao han's missing jasmine before she even left. what a cold, clear feeling that is.
we all have grown smarter and wiser since then and... yeah. it's a joy to meet up and have a meal together.
jasmine's going to thailand tomorrow. we sang in the van that had a broken back window in full-throated triumph on the highway - and that's the way life should be.
...but i could feel shao han's missing jasmine before she even left. what a cold, clear feeling that is.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
some days are just like that
some days you just gotta label as bad days. not because they're not good, but because they're really, exactly and explicitly, not good.
you have no words for it, because the elements that make up that day are all small. so tiny in fact, that mentioning them would seem petty. so you grit and grin through a day of that and you're tired out and are probably feeling down as well and eureka! you decide to use one of your lifelines and call a friend.
so you call a friend who might understand the situation and then you get told, in a nice, roundabout manner, to "suck it in and take it like a woman", followed by "it's probably because you didn't do this, this, this and this".
why, what else can you do but take off your hat and say humbly, thank you very much sir, for listening, then hang up.
do you dare call another friend? nooo
who's there to call anyway? words would have dried up like an exhausted pot of tea left in the sun for far too many days on a day such as this.
plus nobody likes to have to begin with "hi" and then have to end with "well, thanks anyway" and come away feeling like you've made a bid for that swing when you're on the trapeze, air-clawed for the one you're meant to catch and hang on to but missed instead. it feels like you've huge grains of salt stuck in yon tearducts but you can't cry it out. so now you know how it feels to have salt crystals in your tearducts, only it's not salt: it's the fact that you took a nice long fall and hit more than just your face on the ground and you couldn't even cry.
you're too proud and too logical to do so and yet you can't deny that there is the desire and need to let the floodgates open. then someone asks, "are you okay?"
what may you say, really, other than "no. no, i'm not, but i'll be alright. thanks for asking" while you dust yourself off, all the while bleeding from the nose and a bruise actively spreading across your person?
you're not okay. you know you're not okay, it's obvious. you're not okay. and no, everything's not alright, why do you ask? is it because of the nickname that clearly reads "FUCK OFF", or is it the blood that's dripping from your metaphorical nose onto your metaphorical shirt? someone - you, namely - 'd just missed the trapeze and hit the mother-fuckin' floor, for God's sakes.
"are you alright"??
Gawd.
don't you have something smarter to say, like "i'm here for you if you need me" or do you say nothing at all and well, "let it run itself out", like you usually prefer to do? and it won't be your fault because she probably needed some space, anyway.
well y'know what? when someone's bleeding, the last thing anyone else can do is to leave it alone. worse if you know about it: it's almost like witnessing a car crash but not calling the ambulance "because someone else would have called" or worse yet, "ah don't want no trouble".
the next thing you know, two years have passed and all parties realise: you don't care like he or she - whomever that friend may be - doesn't care and work's always such a wonderful excuse. you're sorry about that but are even sorrier to know that that's the way it is. and it's not touching you anyhow like it's not touching him or her in any way.
it somehow makes you look at the situation and nod, resignedly to yourself in understanding and you realise that welp, life goes on. "c'est la vie," you say. then you turn off the lights, shut down the computer and go to sleep.
and what's changed? it's been like that since three years ago, before you realised the farthest you have gone to is "hi" on instant messenger.
---
walk away from it loren, walk away from it. improve as you must, and leave the worries behind. clichéd as it sounds, pack up your troubles in an old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.
because you're the only thrash-hauler in your world: if you don't throw the rubbish away sooner or later you're going to living in thrash. being happy is not a choice. it is survival.
being strong is not a character trait; it is a by-product of survival/happiness.
and i must be happy, cause that's the way i choose it to be.
you have no words for it, because the elements that make up that day are all small. so tiny in fact, that mentioning them would seem petty. so you grit and grin through a day of that and you're tired out and are probably feeling down as well and eureka! you decide to use one of your lifelines and call a friend.
so you call a friend who might understand the situation and then you get told, in a nice, roundabout manner, to "suck it in and take it like a woman", followed by "it's probably because you didn't do this, this, this and this".
why, what else can you do but take off your hat and say humbly, thank you very much sir, for listening, then hang up.
do you dare call another friend? nooo
who's there to call anyway? words would have dried up like an exhausted pot of tea left in the sun for far too many days on a day such as this.
plus nobody likes to have to begin with "hi" and then have to end with "well, thanks anyway" and come away feeling like you've made a bid for that swing when you're on the trapeze, air-clawed for the one you're meant to catch and hang on to but missed instead. it feels like you've huge grains of salt stuck in yon tearducts but you can't cry it out. so now you know how it feels to have salt crystals in your tearducts, only it's not salt: it's the fact that you took a nice long fall and hit more than just your face on the ground and you couldn't even cry.
you're too proud and too logical to do so and yet you can't deny that there is the desire and need to let the floodgates open. then someone asks, "are you okay?"
what may you say, really, other than "no. no, i'm not, but i'll be alright. thanks for asking" while you dust yourself off, all the while bleeding from the nose and a bruise actively spreading across your person?
you're not okay. you know you're not okay, it's obvious. you're not okay. and no, everything's not alright, why do you ask? is it because of the nickname that clearly reads "FUCK OFF", or is it the blood that's dripping from your metaphorical nose onto your metaphorical shirt? someone - you, namely - 'd just missed the trapeze and hit the mother-fuckin' floor, for God's sakes.
"are you alright"??
Gawd.
don't you have something smarter to say, like "i'm here for you if you need me" or do you say nothing at all and well, "let it run itself out", like you usually prefer to do? and it won't be your fault because she probably needed some space, anyway.
well y'know what? when someone's bleeding, the last thing anyone else can do is to leave it alone. worse if you know about it: it's almost like witnessing a car crash but not calling the ambulance "because someone else would have called" or worse yet, "ah don't want no trouble".
the next thing you know, two years have passed and all parties realise: you don't care like he or she - whomever that friend may be - doesn't care and work's always such a wonderful excuse. you're sorry about that but are even sorrier to know that that's the way it is. and it's not touching you anyhow like it's not touching him or her in any way.
it somehow makes you look at the situation and nod, resignedly to yourself in understanding and you realise that welp, life goes on. "c'est la vie," you say. then you turn off the lights, shut down the computer and go to sleep.
and what's changed? it's been like that since three years ago, before you realised the farthest you have gone to is "hi" on instant messenger.
---
walk away from it loren, walk away from it. improve as you must, and leave the worries behind. clichéd as it sounds, pack up your troubles in an old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.
because you're the only thrash-hauler in your world: if you don't throw the rubbish away sooner or later you're going to living in thrash. being happy is not a choice. it is survival.
being strong is not a character trait; it is a by-product of survival/happiness.
and i must be happy, cause that's the way i choose it to be.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
dubious pride
i am dubiously proud to come back on a tuesday evening drunk - at 9:30pm. it must be something to do with the fact that i'm working with a japanese boss.
i think he's nice.
older gentleman, and i think as long as i show respect and courtesy everything should be more than fine. :)
well he brought me to a restaurant today and had hokkaido dishes - it was great! light and appetising, coupled with sake - oh good heavens. i loved it. :)) and i work hard for my boss. :D
i think he's nice.
older gentleman, and i think as long as i show respect and courtesy everything should be more than fine. :)
well he brought me to a restaurant today and had hokkaido dishes - it was great! light and appetising, coupled with sake - oh good heavens. i loved it. :)) and i work hard for my boss. :D
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
conversations
this is over sms, on an evening i was tired but i had nothing better to do between the time i fall asleep and the time when still lying half awake - which was the beginning of a great deal of uh, excitement.
me: 木头。
x: i'm smarter than that...
me: -smile- maybe. perhaps i'm the one!
x: takes time sometimes...
me: O o
wah piang another one. how come tonight i keep getting blind-sided one??
x: ?? can meet you for kopi tomorrow if you want. i'm in jb in the morning
me: i've stuff on the entire of tomorrow... very hard, really. i was thus pushing for tonight, as that was the only window i may have caught you... it's alright la, dealt with the money issue already.*
10 minutes later, in which my conversation with another friend went like this as accurately as i remember, in bold:
me: eh. i think this is the wrong time to fall in love. what do you think?
him: ok lah ...blah blah blah... falling in love is alright.
me: [said something]
him: [something something] i'm not flirting with you. really.
me: ? ^^'
har? er. what??
me: wah i must be getting stupid. what's going on??
and it suddenly dawns on me that -
me: OMG are you thinking i'm asking you over for something dubious??? it is NOT THE CASE! >_<
x: dun be ridiculous... i'm not.... insulted
me: you're not insulted? what does that mean? over what?? -cry-
k i shall.. keep my hands off the phone and... go sleep. nobody's making any sense tonight T_T
x: i'm not like that... i feel insulted!!!! LOL
at this point i was curled up in foetal position, sucking my thumb furiously wondering how on earth the conversation went that way. well. not really, but you get the idea of the kind of trauma i go through sometimes.
* the money issue is not because i was short on money, but because i was to head to malaysia for work and i hadn't made the trip down to the money changer's yet. that friend is a regular visitor of malaysia, and i thought i might exchange some money with him instead.
me: 木头。
x: i'm smarter than that...
me: -smile- maybe. perhaps i'm the one!
x: takes time sometimes...
me: O o
wah piang another one. how come tonight i keep getting blind-sided one??
x: ?? can meet you for kopi tomorrow if you want. i'm in jb in the morning
me: i've stuff on the entire of tomorrow... very hard, really. i was thus pushing for tonight, as that was the only window i may have caught you... it's alright la, dealt with the money issue already.*
10 minutes later, in which my conversation with another friend went like this as accurately as i remember, in bold:
me: eh. i think this is the wrong time to fall in love. what do you think?
him: ok lah ...blah blah blah... falling in love is alright.
me: [said something]
him: [something something] i'm not flirting with you. really.
me: ? ^^'
har? er. what??
me: wah i must be getting stupid. what's going on??
and it suddenly dawns on me that -
me: OMG are you thinking i'm asking you over for something dubious??? it is NOT THE CASE! >_<
x: dun be ridiculous... i'm not.... insulted
me: you're not insulted? what does that mean? over what?? -cry-
k i shall.. keep my hands off the phone and... go sleep. nobody's making any sense tonight T_T
x: i'm not like that... i feel insulted!!!! LOL
at this point i was curled up in foetal position, sucking my thumb furiously wondering how on earth the conversation went that way. well. not really, but you get the idea of the kind of trauma i go through sometimes.
* the money issue is not because i was short on money, but because i was to head to malaysia for work and i hadn't made the trip down to the money changer's yet. that friend is a regular visitor of malaysia, and i thought i might exchange some money with him instead.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
power struggles
i don't do power struggles. not anymore, because it tires me out fighting with someone i'm supposed to love or in this case, was supposed to come to love.
i'm sorry it never did go past "like" for you, but that's okay. we don't know what we hadn't had. there is no loss when there was no gain.
in all sincerity, i am sorry it was you. thank you for the sweet flowers. thank you, for the time we hung out at my place, for the tau huay and porridge that you brought. i enjoyed and looked forward to them.
the hanging out, i mean.
though... i still will have to say that there is a difference between being concerned and being adamantly controlling about how another person should live. nobody likes being told what to do, in that tone that borders on ordering. there's simply no way an older, more matured person would behave that way to me*.
plus don't you agree that i'm a big girl and i know how to take care of myself?
well. whatever it is, it's passed now and i know that i don't like having to spend the rest of my life with someone who behaves like my father instead of a boyfriend/husband, and i know that's what you were aiming to be.
thank you, once again, for the good times. i will remember them.
* postscript: i take that back. i'd just met someone who IS older than i am and likes to bossily tell me that i eat too little. now, though, it's been toned down to nagging at me to say that i should eat more. thankfully.
i'm sorry it never did go past "like" for you, but that's okay. we don't know what we hadn't had. there is no loss when there was no gain.
in all sincerity, i am sorry it was you. thank you for the sweet flowers. thank you, for the time we hung out at my place, for the tau huay and porridge that you brought. i enjoyed and looked forward to them.
the hanging out, i mean.
though... i still will have to say that there is a difference between being concerned and being adamantly controlling about how another person should live. nobody likes being told what to do, in that tone that borders on ordering. there's simply no way an older, more matured person would behave that way to me*.
plus don't you agree that i'm a big girl and i know how to take care of myself?
well. whatever it is, it's passed now and i know that i don't like having to spend the rest of my life with someone who behaves like my father instead of a boyfriend/husband, and i know that's what you were aiming to be.
thank you, once again, for the good times. i will remember them.
* postscript: i take that back. i'd just met someone who IS older than i am and likes to bossily tell me that i eat too little. now, though, it's been toned down to nagging at me to say that i should eat more. thankfully.
Monday, August 11, 2008
I is The Priss - Who knew?
The Priss
Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD)
Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss.
Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.
These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards.
You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing.
Your exact female opposite:
The Playstation
Always avoid: The Playboy (RGSM), The Loverboy (RGLM)
Consider: The Manchild (RBLD)
Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD)
Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss.
Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.
These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards.
You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing.
Your exact female opposite:
The Playstation
Always avoid: The Playboy (RGSM), The Loverboy (RGLM)
Consider: The Manchild (RBLD)
Thursday, August 07, 2008
relationship?
someone told me during a conversation today that she wants a relationship. i didn't understand it.
right now, in the quiet of my bedroom, i begin to question: what about a relationship is that attractive to her, that she is wanting one?
i mean, anyone who has been through a relationship understands that hey people hit the ground after the honeymoon wears off, much like how balloons hit the ground once the helium wears off. surely she understands that?
or am i biased, or unfeeling to even have such queries in my mind?
why relationship? is it the...
1) sex?
2) the companionship?
3) idea that there is a "friend" you can trust in and love on?
forgive me if i'm on the sceptical side here but we do know that, respectively: -
1) it's never seven inches.
2) there's no real companionship until you live together - by then you'd probably want to kick the other person out.
3) and yeaaah the things you don't know.
so... seriously now. what is it about a relationship? i don't understand it at this point in time probably because i know what i'm searching for... and what i'm looking for is NOT more trouble.
friendship and companionship yes, but a relationship - haha
i'm not so sure.
anyhoos. it's someone else who's looking for a relationship, not me - perhaps she is wiser than i am? she might very well be, for all i know! for now however, i'm letting it all wash over me, not pursuing, not resisting.
and it's great. until i find that wisdom my friend seems to have, i'm going to remain right here where i am in terms of status: single.
right now, in the quiet of my bedroom, i begin to question: what about a relationship is that attractive to her, that she is wanting one?
i mean, anyone who has been through a relationship understands that hey people hit the ground after the honeymoon wears off, much like how balloons hit the ground once the helium wears off. surely she understands that?
or am i biased, or unfeeling to even have such queries in my mind?
why relationship? is it the...
1) sex?
2) the companionship?
3) idea that there is a "friend" you can trust in and love on?
forgive me if i'm on the sceptical side here but we do know that, respectively: -
1) it's never seven inches.
2) there's no real companionship until you live together - by then you'd probably want to kick the other person out.
3) and yeaaah the things you don't know.
so... seriously now. what is it about a relationship? i don't understand it at this point in time probably because i know what i'm searching for... and what i'm looking for is NOT more trouble.
friendship and companionship yes, but a relationship - haha
i'm not so sure.
anyhoos. it's someone else who's looking for a relationship, not me - perhaps she is wiser than i am? she might very well be, for all i know! for now however, i'm letting it all wash over me, not pursuing, not resisting.
and it's great. until i find that wisdom my friend seems to have, i'm going to remain right here where i am in terms of status: single.
Monday, August 04, 2008
choices and the hitchhiker
sometimes choices have to be made and followed. sometimes there are trials attached, sometimes you get an "advance to Go" card and other times, well, you get a dud and life goes on.
i won't even begin to talk about how life is supposed to be like a box of chocolates - sometimes they're all coconut.
i think life is more like taking a bus: you know where you're headed and you've your fare ready. you just have to wait, because you'll know it when you see it, then you'll hop on. like everybody else.
others may find that life is more like taking a taxi - faster, probably easier and definitely less crowded than "what the rest has to go through" - unless, of course, you're travelling with a whole bunch of people who are "headed the same way", so to speak.
then again there's nothing stopping the supposed driver from taking you for a joyride and ripping you off... unless you've got your hands on his balls and by that time it'll be illegal.
so... what now? the bus or the taxi? well, i don't know. it looks like a good day out, i think i'll take a walk.
i won't even begin to talk about how life is supposed to be like a box of chocolates - sometimes they're all coconut.
i think life is more like taking a bus: you know where you're headed and you've your fare ready. you just have to wait, because you'll know it when you see it, then you'll hop on. like everybody else.
others may find that life is more like taking a taxi - faster, probably easier and definitely less crowded than "what the rest has to go through" - unless, of course, you're travelling with a whole bunch of people who are "headed the same way", so to speak.
then again there's nothing stopping the supposed driver from taking you for a joyride and ripping you off... unless you've got your hands on his balls and by that time it'll be illegal.
so... what now? the bus or the taxi? well, i don't know. it looks like a good day out, i think i'll take a walk.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
people
The more people I meet, the more I understand that yes I am fine and yes, I am loved. Definitely yes: I am beautiful both inside and out, as far as my ideals go.
I like myself.
I like myself.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
lashes
i've always wondered what the lil comb is for - the one "they" say is for combing lashes.
today, i think i understand, for today, i went and got myself lashes. yes, the sort that is GLUED to yon eyelids - and suddenly, the lash-comb makes sense!
...not that it'll be of any use, of course*.
* that is, possibly until i wake up tomorrow morning to discover i've been sleeping on my face -
today, i think i understand, for today, i went and got myself lashes. yes, the sort that is GLUED to yon eyelids - and suddenly, the lash-comb makes sense!
...not that it'll be of any use, of course*.
* that is, possibly until i wake up tomorrow morning to discover i've been sleeping on my face -
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Female of the Species
WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other's tale—
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.
Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!
But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.
She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.
She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.
She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.
Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!
So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.
And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other's tale—
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.
Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!
But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.
She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.
She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.
She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.
Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!
So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.
And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
tush-whacked
yeah i've had my butt whipped. but then that's alright, makes me more aware and stronger. no more two-steps-forward-one-step-back - we aren't doing the cha-cha here, so there's absolutely no need for that.
how about one-step-forward-two-steps-up? adds dimension now, doesn't it.
well, whatever it is, i relinquish all grip. i surrender, i drop my weapons. don't kill me.*
* and if you must, let me die prettily.
how about one-step-forward-two-steps-up? adds dimension now, doesn't it.
well, whatever it is, i relinquish all grip. i surrender, i drop my weapons. don't kill me.*
* and if you must, let me die prettily.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
sleep
i can't sleep.
main reason being i've missed my bedtime, which is at 10pm. it's now 3:11am and ..i'm online, blogging.
oh, i know i can get to sleep, only thing is that i'm kept awake by my absent sleepiness and the drip-drip-dripping of the aircon. i know that i can get to sleep if i listened to the silence that wasn't there (say, if there weren't dripping and i'm only listening to the hum of the aircon.)
i know it reads ridiculous but if you tried it you'll know how effective it is. seriously. listening for the silence that isn't there is a good way to get to sleep when dealing with drippy whatnots. meanwhile though, i remain sleepless because my eyes, though tired, simply refuse to entertain the idea that it might want to rest - it's a little like how you might feel when you realise you'd survived the holocaust because you ducked into the kitchen for a bit of a snack - it'd missed the bedtime.
oh look. a yawn. there's hope yet.
main reason being i've missed my bedtime, which is at 10pm. it's now 3:11am and ..i'm online, blogging.
oh, i know i can get to sleep, only thing is that i'm kept awake by my absent sleepiness and the drip-drip-dripping of the aircon. i know that i can get to sleep if i listened to the silence that wasn't there (say, if there weren't dripping and i'm only listening to the hum of the aircon.)
i know it reads ridiculous but if you tried it you'll know how effective it is. seriously. listening for the silence that isn't there is a good way to get to sleep when dealing with drippy whatnots. meanwhile though, i remain sleepless because my eyes, though tired, simply refuse to entertain the idea that it might want to rest - it's a little like how you might feel when you realise you'd survived the holocaust because you ducked into the kitchen for a bit of a snack - it'd missed the bedtime.
oh look. a yawn. there's hope yet.
3 suits
i went traipsing with my cousin and a lady friend this evening, and was looking for - the ladies - when i came upon this bar. figuring it's got to have the necessary facilities i strode right in and immediately came upon three gentlemen in suits - each attractive in their own right.
one of them, seeing the wild look in my eyes and possibly guessing that i've been chased by some uncouth gangster, gallantly asked me, "can i help you?"
to which i replied: "yes, may i use your toilet?" (nice going loren, you're so witty and charming i don't know who wouldn't want you right now)
one of them cheekily asked, "if we told you can we watch?" (the bartender has very nicely pointed me the way in the background)
to which i should have said, "if you'll give me a moment, i'll come back with your answer," merrily danced to the ladies then come back all smiles and told them - "no."
c'est esprit d'escalier. pooh.
one of them, seeing the wild look in my eyes and possibly guessing that i've been chased by some uncouth gangster, gallantly asked me, "can i help you?"
to which i replied: "yes, may i use your toilet?" (nice going loren, you're so witty and charming i don't know who wouldn't want you right now)
one of them cheekily asked, "if we told you can we watch?" (the bartender has very nicely pointed me the way in the background)
to which i should have said, "if you'll give me a moment, i'll come back with your answer," merrily danced to the ladies then come back all smiles and told them - "no."
c'est esprit d'escalier. pooh.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
hog
i've been eating like a hog these few days. and been sleeping like one, too. ever since sunday (which i spent in a glorious blackout) i've been on a lazy mood.
i leave work on time to go dancing (like last night, was at thumper's for salsa), play dota, meet friends, gallivant - the weather these days are pretty good, too, in a grouchy funky rainy sorta way. like right now.
it's 6:46pm, the sky''s still bright and the rain's poooouring itself onto us all. i'm sitting by the window listening to the thunder and rain as i type... it is, in itself, quite a luxury.
ah, time.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
that leaky 'con
of the random things i wanted to blog about today (loo stall loyalty, someone in building management heard my pleas - somehow - for better loo paper, dreaming about shower room espionage just to name a few) i am choosing to blog about that leaky 'con.
well, that leaky aircon, to be precise.
y'see, i use the aircon practically every night these recent months, as it is considered summer even in this hot and watery belt we call the tropics. if it were any more humid and/or warmer we wouldn't need to cook anything anymore - everything'd be steamed and we can all go out with chopsticks.
assuming dumplings grow on trees, of course.
anyhoos.
so each time i turn the 'con on, the machine spontaneously takes it upon itself to start dripping.... onto the thin plastic awning a short distance down from my window. charming.
ever slept with a dripping faucet?
well this is the dripping 'con.
at least with the faucet you can tighten it - with the 'con you turn it off and leave yourself to steep in the murky watery night air that's being flailed to and fro by the ceiling fan - murky watery night air that will inevitably turn hot and then become The Place To Be for MOSSIES.
try sleeping. go on, i dare ya.
having lived here for a while though, i've learnt to turn a deaf ear on that over-eager machine so as to earn myself some shuteye. the thing that gets me though is the fact that it's announcing to whomever in the vicinity that i'm using the 'con. i mean, global warming, hello? i'm concerned that my neighbours would either kaopeh (complain) about my 'con or they get annoyed enough (by the dripping) to mortar it.
well. the latter is, of course, more effective for them and very much preferred by me but would probably bring the police by the swarms to the area... though i wouldn't quite mind as i won't have to deal with it - because i'd very likely be DEAD.
but i digress.
BIGWIGS are in the G8 summit trying to find answers to help slow the apocalypse and here i am - ditsy lil reporter in the tropics sleeping with the trippy drippy aircon on every night. i should be ashamed of myself, but am not because those bigwigs have left carbon footprints big enough to stomp on THAT HOLE IN THE SKY twice over. ish.
so... does that make my using the aircon any less damaging? nope.
does it make me feel better? hell yeah!
those leaders could've used the internet for teleconferences, just like the ones who attended INTERNATIONAL WATER WEEK could have. helloooo big carbie footpriiint! wake up, wake up people! that plane you took with your bodyguards and entourage for the meeting? the bigass convention hall you booked that had to be chilled with industrial heavy-duty 'cons? followed by the plane you're going to take with your bodyguards and entourage back?
do you big guys really understand what you're talking about? because if you don't, i as a mere small fry living in the tropics who absolutely needs the benefits of the aircon (unlike in alaska. though granted, it seems to be the unspoken ambition for public transports and most office blocks in singapore to outdo alaska) will see nothing wrong with turning the 'con on every night for months in a row. until the rainy season sets in, at least.
even then i'd still have a smaller carbon output than you do. and believe me, if i could blow you all a raspberry right now i would. then i'd burp in your faces.
'hem. -cough-
i wonder how a leaky 'con has made me angry enough to rant about the environment, all of a sudden. yeah, it's a gift i've always had. i'm sure you've your own talents too; there's no need to get jealous.
and now i shall... go ignore the trippy drippy 'con. goodnight, good people.
well, that leaky aircon, to be precise.
y'see, i use the aircon practically every night these recent months, as it is considered summer even in this hot and watery belt we call the tropics. if it were any more humid and/or warmer we wouldn't need to cook anything anymore - everything'd be steamed and we can all go out with chopsticks.
assuming dumplings grow on trees, of course.
anyhoos.
so each time i turn the 'con on, the machine spontaneously takes it upon itself to start dripping.... onto the thin plastic awning a short distance down from my window. charming.
ever slept with a dripping faucet?
well this is the dripping 'con.
at least with the faucet you can tighten it - with the 'con you turn it off and leave yourself to steep in the murky watery night air that's being flailed to and fro by the ceiling fan - murky watery night air that will inevitably turn hot and then become The Place To Be for MOSSIES.
try sleeping. go on, i dare ya.
having lived here for a while though, i've learnt to turn a deaf ear on that over-eager machine so as to earn myself some shuteye. the thing that gets me though is the fact that it's announcing to whomever in the vicinity that i'm using the 'con. i mean, global warming, hello? i'm concerned that my neighbours would either kaopeh (complain) about my 'con or they get annoyed enough (by the dripping) to mortar it.
well. the latter is, of course, more effective for them and very much preferred by me but would probably bring the police by the swarms to the area... though i wouldn't quite mind as i won't have to deal with it - because i'd very likely be DEAD.
but i digress.
BIGWIGS are in the G8 summit trying to find answers to help slow the apocalypse and here i am - ditsy lil reporter in the tropics sleeping with the trippy drippy aircon on every night. i should be ashamed of myself, but am not because those bigwigs have left carbon footprints big enough to stomp on THAT HOLE IN THE SKY twice over. ish.
so... does that make my using the aircon any less damaging? nope.
does it make me feel better? hell yeah!
those leaders could've used the internet for teleconferences, just like the ones who attended INTERNATIONAL WATER WEEK could have. helloooo big carbie footpriiint! wake up, wake up people! that plane you took with your bodyguards and entourage for the meeting? the bigass convention hall you booked that had to be chilled with industrial heavy-duty 'cons? followed by the plane you're going to take with your bodyguards and entourage back?
do you big guys really understand what you're talking about? because if you don't, i as a mere small fry living in the tropics who absolutely needs the benefits of the aircon (unlike in alaska. though granted, it seems to be the unspoken ambition for public transports and most office blocks in singapore to outdo alaska) will see nothing wrong with turning the 'con on every night for months in a row. until the rainy season sets in, at least.
even then i'd still have a smaller carbon output than you do. and believe me, if i could blow you all a raspberry right now i would. then i'd burp in your faces.
'hem. -cough-
i wonder how a leaky 'con has made me angry enough to rant about the environment, all of a sudden. yeah, it's a gift i've always had. i'm sure you've your own talents too; there's no need to get jealous.
and now i shall... go ignore the trippy drippy 'con. goodnight, good people.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
conversation
overheard in chinatown a few days ago, between ah chek to china lady.
ah chek: “你喜欢女人吗？”
china lady: -mumbles something-
ah chek: “老老的可以吗？”
china lady: “都可以...”
ah chek: ”你老公那条大不大？”
that's when i lost my appetite and fled from the long tableful of people.
i sms-ed this to a friend, and the conversation went like this:
me: “is 你老公那条大不大？” a common question?
chris: ”did someone ask you this?“
me: “nope. that was a conversation between an ah chek and a china lady.”
chris: “我还以为有人这么问你。要是有人这样问你，你叫他等一下然后打电话给我，我下去show他。”
[my expression: O_o]
ah chek: “你喜欢女人吗？”
china lady: -mumbles something-
ah chek: “老老的可以吗？”
china lady: “都可以...”
ah chek: ”你老公那条大不大？”
that's when i lost my appetite and fled from the long tableful of people.
i sms-ed this to a friend, and the conversation went like this:
me: “is 你老公那条大不大？” a common question?
chris: ”did someone ask you this?“
me: “nope. that was a conversation between an ah chek and a china lady.”
chris: “我还以为有人这么问你。要是有人这样问你，你叫他等一下然后打电话给我，我下去show他。”
[my expression: O_o]
Friday, July 04, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
hours and days
these days when i think of when i need to get to a certain place and then how to get there i start thinking in terms of cost-effectivity. well. ish.
how much time can i afford? do i know the place? what are the ways i can get there and how quickly i can get there with respect to different modes of transport?
then i question: how much does it require? can i afford it? is it necessary?
recently, there's been lots of calculations and estimates and with the grace of God, i am able to get through all of these times very well. somehow, just somehow, i'm able to get to the various places that i need to get to on time and in good shape. each trip i make seems to be a miracle.
take this morning for example: i was headed towards courts at tampines from home at about 7-odd in the morning, and i was able to get a quick cab quickly and for some reason managed to avoid all the heavy traffic. the rest of the girls who came later than i did got stuck on the roads and oddly, we all used the same highways to get to where we needed to get to. miracle or what, huh. hehe
and yes, in case you're wondering, i was praying for smooth passage and being on time. that definitely helped. these "little miracles" happen so often that i pray more and more often and i know that it will turn out just the way i had prayed for it to.
...come to think of it, there aren't "little miracles" or "big miracles" - miracles are miracles are miracles - one is as miraculous as the other. geebus, i have the sudden urge to crow in exultation that HEY YA SUCKERS! I'VE GOT THE BEST ALLY IN THE WORLD!
...but i refrain from that.
instead, i shall.... smiiiile, and know that i'm in excellent hands. -SMILE-
how much time can i afford? do i know the place? what are the ways i can get there and how quickly i can get there with respect to different modes of transport?
then i question: how much does it require? can i afford it? is it necessary?
recently, there's been lots of calculations and estimates and with the grace of God, i am able to get through all of these times very well. somehow, just somehow, i'm able to get to the various places that i need to get to on time and in good shape. each trip i make seems to be a miracle.
take this morning for example: i was headed towards courts at tampines from home at about 7-odd in the morning, and i was able to get a quick cab quickly and for some reason managed to avoid all the heavy traffic. the rest of the girls who came later than i did got stuck on the roads and oddly, we all used the same highways to get to where we needed to get to. miracle or what, huh. hehe
and yes, in case you're wondering, i was praying for smooth passage and being on time. that definitely helped. these "little miracles" happen so often that i pray more and more often and i know that it will turn out just the way i had prayed for it to.
...come to think of it, there aren't "little miracles" or "big miracles" - miracles are miracles are miracles - one is as miraculous as the other. geebus, i have the sudden urge to crow in exultation that HEY YA SUCKERS! I'VE GOT THE BEST ALLY IN THE WORLD!
...but i refrain from that.
instead, i shall.... smiiiile, and know that i'm in excellent hands. -SMILE-
Saturday, June 21, 2008
preview show
ho boy, the preview show was good! i was surprisingly calm on stage and it was alright, methinks. i know the audience loved my singing and i know they loved my performance. singing that saucy song with jazzy overtones is indeed a good choice. things went on without a hitch, despite the pitch being too high - perhaps it was because i couldn't hear it so well, so i sang at a pitch i was comfortable with.
also, perhaps because i had stayed up the night before my voice was slightly smokey-sugary, so it's all good. lol
personality shone through and it was a good show by all. haha!
also, perhaps because i had stayed up the night before my voice was slightly smokey-sugary, so it's all good. lol
personality shone through and it was a good show by all. haha!
Friday, June 20, 2008
karma
well, what happens will happen. i know i will take it all well, and with grace, for i am a comet.
i will meet someone in july. i don't know who that person will be, but i think he brings me love. what is this feeling that i have throbbing in my chest right now?
it makes me want to cry.
...must be gas.
well, june's almost over, and it has indeed been a month of learning as i'd predicted. for what it's worth, i know i'll be happy in july, then will come august. august will be a month of trials, but that probably means i'm successful in my pursuits. meaning more challenges to make me grow and i become someone better.
after that, it all seems to settle down into a sort of a pattern, so august probably signifies some sort of a change, like me trying to get used to a new environment or work arrangement.
come to think of it, that's also when i plan to move on from sankei shimbun. yeah, once media always media. i love it! whatever it is, it'll be good. it's going to be good.
it'll be a good life! i know it will be. for i am a comet. as i always have been. i can't stop; i don't stop.
people are comets. we all are; and we can't stop. this is my time; our time. we don't stop.
not until years later at least, when we've gained the sheen of pride, a little bit of arrogance and accumulated life experience, beauty, charisma.
then we become people again, and learn to slow. that is when we glow from within. truly glow from within. in Jesus' name, i pray.
amen.
i will meet someone in july. i don't know who that person will be, but i think he brings me love. what is this feeling that i have throbbing in my chest right now?
it makes me want to cry.
...must be gas.
well, june's almost over, and it has indeed been a month of learning as i'd predicted. for what it's worth, i know i'll be happy in july, then will come august. august will be a month of trials, but that probably means i'm successful in my pursuits. meaning more challenges to make me grow and i become someone better.
after that, it all seems to settle down into a sort of a pattern, so august probably signifies some sort of a change, like me trying to get used to a new environment or work arrangement.
come to think of it, that's also when i plan to move on from sankei shimbun. yeah, once media always media. i love it! whatever it is, it'll be good. it's going to be good.
it'll be a good life! i know it will be. for i am a comet. as i always have been. i can't stop; i don't stop.
people are comets. we all are; and we can't stop. this is my time; our time. we don't stop.
not until years later at least, when we've gained the sheen of pride, a little bit of arrogance and accumulated life experience, beauty, charisma.
then we become people again, and learn to slow. that is when we glow from within. truly glow from within. in Jesus' name, i pray.
amen.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
tailoring
so i am taking part in pageants.
one is called ms sweetheart, and right now i'm going to have to rent a gown. it's going to cost me between 100 to 200 thereabouts and it will be of general size and proportion. the tailored one is going to fit me to a tee, but it's going to cost about 600 >_<
OMG
i hope i can find a pretty gown! i hope hope hope i can find a gown.
one is called ms sweetheart, and right now i'm going to have to rent a gown. it's going to cost me between 100 to 200 thereabouts and it will be of general size and proportion. the tailored one is going to fit me to a tee, but it's going to cost about 600 >_<
OMG
i hope i can find a pretty gown! i hope hope hope i can find a gown.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
politically-correct
yeah, politically-correct. there are some clashes with the dates for the two competitions and i'm appealing to have the cake and eat it too.
being nice and politically-correct has never been more crucial!
being nice and politically-correct has never been more crucial!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
word of the day
lachrymose \LAK-ruh-mohs\, adjective:
1. Generating or shedding tears; given to shedding tears; suffused with tears; tearful.
2. Causing or tending to cause tears.
1. Generating or shedding tears; given to shedding tears; suffused with tears; tearful.
2. Causing or tending to cause tears.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
manicure
yea, i did it myself.
i bought myself a pair of cuticle clippers and groomed my good self. trimmed my nails and buffed the edges, followed by a layer of gloss.
and it makes me feel like a million bucks. with lipgloss on, of course.
i bought myself a pair of cuticle clippers and groomed my good self. trimmed my nails and buffed the edges, followed by a layer of gloss.
and it makes me feel like a million bucks. with lipgloss on, of course.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
cardboard
i don't know about you, but i absolutely resent having to wipe my butt with paper that feels like cardboard.
i know the butt is a place where the world doesn't see unless you're at the beach, that it spends majority of its time being covered up and sat on. but if you've ever had to endure through an episode of having to clean up after you're done in the loo, you will know how unpleasant it is to have what feels like rough cardboard being used on the rump. well, your rump. my rump.
oh, heck. our rumps.
our office block has that issue.
now, i know i don't have a butt of gold, neither do i insure it like a certain missus lopez did; i know you don't, neither. and neither are you someone to speak about things as such when it happens to you, because you are too polite. i know.
fortunately (or unfortunately) i am precisely the kind of person who will mention this to anyone who would pause and listen - it is an act against humanity to give us rough loo paper.
for the magazines that pelt us with images of impossibly smooth skin and pert boobies and high backsides (g-string adorned, no less), can you imagine the feeling of having eaten lunch then sitting down on the butt the whole day? that has just been rough cardboarded??
i mean, i've just had breakfast, i just had lunch, my ass's going to swell to the size of canada with cellulite and i have to paper my behind with that? hello?
a little perspective here?
alright alright. seriously, paranoid fat jokes aside - i think that having cardboard-like loo paper is honestly ineffective. it is, more importantly, not cost-effective.
why?
because when it's tough and hard to bend, it doesn't get to the places it needs to get to. so what happens is that we use more of it. so when building managers make the decision to buy cheap loo rolls, they're actually doing themselves a disfavour, simply because it's ineffective and therefore people use more of it. because it doesn't get the job done.
and we don't like to exfoliate our pretty behinds any more than we need to neither, especially if we can't really see what's going on when we're doing that ourselves on a loo break. the only way we judge if we have a clean arse is when there's no more er, colour on the paper.
and we won't know if the paper has missed the spot if it refuses to conform to the shape of our derrierres. the way nature intended it to be.
and by the time we find out that we had indeed missed something, it's too late. by and by we will learn that we can't be safe enough and we use more paper. capisce? only then it'd not just be "bye-bye utility savings", it'd be "bye-bye environment" as well. so do you see that there is actually a direct relationship between tough loo paper and money and more importantly, the environment??
do you have any idea how much loo paper each building uses? every day? save the earth, people! if not then at least save the utility budget, sheesh! i'm trying to help you, here!
now there's a lot more i'd like to say about how the provision of softer, better loo paper will improve the economy (employees less worried, less grouchy, confident employees, workrate improves - the likes), but i'm sure you get my drift. because, well.
y'know. it's rough on the muff. and muffs must never be roughed. never. not if you want your economy to collapse on you.
so.
i don't know about you, but i prefer soft loo paper. because i prefer to have my economy intact.
i know the butt is a place where the world doesn't see unless you're at the beach, that it spends majority of its time being covered up and sat on. but if you've ever had to endure through an episode of having to clean up after you're done in the loo, you will know how unpleasant it is to have what feels like rough cardboard being used on the rump. well, your rump. my rump.
oh, heck. our rumps.
our office block has that issue.
now, i know i don't have a butt of gold, neither do i insure it like a certain missus lopez did; i know you don't, neither. and neither are you someone to speak about things as such when it happens to you, because you are too polite. i know.
fortunately (or unfortunately) i am precisely the kind of person who will mention this to anyone who would pause and listen - it is an act against humanity to give us rough loo paper.
for the magazines that pelt us with images of impossibly smooth skin and pert boobies and high backsides (g-string adorned, no less), can you imagine the feeling of having eaten lunch then sitting down on the butt the whole day? that has just been rough cardboarded??
i mean, i've just had breakfast, i just had lunch, my ass's going to swell to the size of canada with cellulite and i have to paper my behind with that? hello?
a little perspective here?
alright alright. seriously, paranoid fat jokes aside - i think that having cardboard-like loo paper is honestly ineffective. it is, more importantly, not cost-effective.
why?
because when it's tough and hard to bend, it doesn't get to the places it needs to get to. so what happens is that we use more of it. so when building managers make the decision to buy cheap loo rolls, they're actually doing themselves a disfavour, simply because it's ineffective and therefore people use more of it. because it doesn't get the job done.
and we don't like to exfoliate our pretty behinds any more than we need to neither, especially if we can't really see what's going on when we're doing that ourselves on a loo break. the only way we judge if we have a clean arse is when there's no more er, colour on the paper.
and we won't know if the paper has missed the spot if it refuses to conform to the shape of our derrierres. the way nature intended it to be.
and by the time we find out that we had indeed missed something, it's too late. by and by we will learn that we can't be safe enough and we use more paper. capisce? only then it'd not just be "bye-bye utility savings", it'd be "bye-bye environment" as well. so do you see that there is actually a direct relationship between tough loo paper and money and more importantly, the environment??
do you have any idea how much loo paper each building uses? every day? save the earth, people! if not then at least save the utility budget, sheesh! i'm trying to help you, here!
now there's a lot more i'd like to say about how the provision of softer, better loo paper will improve the economy (employees less worried, less grouchy, confident employees, workrate improves - the likes), but i'm sure you get my drift. because, well.
y'know. it's rough on the muff. and muffs must never be roughed. never. not if you want your economy to collapse on you.
so.
i don't know about you, but i prefer soft loo paper. because i prefer to have my economy intact.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
sale!
sale sale sale the great singapore sale!
i feel so lucky i work right in the middle of town, i feel so lucky i can hop on across the street no matter rain or shine and use that lunch hour to go shopping when there are no crowds; oh my maninni goodness i feel so lucky i could bust a vein.
but seriously.
great proximity to great singapore sale = goooood
i feel so lucky i work right in the middle of town, i feel so lucky i can hop on across the street no matter rain or shine and use that lunch hour to go shopping when there are no crowds; oh my maninni goodness i feel so lucky i could bust a vein.
but seriously.
great proximity to great singapore sale = goooood
Friday, May 23, 2008
conditioned and booked
i recall having wanting a brand new air-conditioning machine just a few days back (last week?) and this week, my landlord told me to leave my room door unlocked so the air-con people could come and fix a new one!
wow, how cool's that?? : ))
also, i'd given a book i'd bought (millionaire mind by t harv eker) to someone i thought needed it when in my mind i was like, don't give it to her, don't give it to her - and what did i do? i went and gave it to her.
BUT. the next day, literally, a package came for me. and in it, hey! there is a copy of the very same book, in hard cover! imagine my elation and surprise!
yes i'd ordered it, from the self-same t harv eker, but i'd expected it to be another book, another programme, but wow, look! isn't this great? : ) it's odd how the things that you give away simply comes back to you. reaping what you sow, eh, pei?
thankfully you'd sowed good seeds!
wow, how cool's that?? : ))
also, i'd given a book i'd bought (millionaire mind by t harv eker) to someone i thought needed it when in my mind i was like, don't give it to her, don't give it to her - and what did i do? i went and gave it to her.
BUT. the next day, literally, a package came for me. and in it, hey! there is a copy of the very same book, in hard cover! imagine my elation and surprise!
yes i'd ordered it, from the self-same t harv eker, but i'd expected it to be another book, another programme, but wow, look! isn't this great? : ) it's odd how the things that you give away simply comes back to you. reaping what you sow, eh, pei?
thankfully you'd sowed good seeds!
Monday, May 19, 2008
oh, yeah
oh yeah.
i found out, today, during the two-and-a-half hours worth of waiting, that i am famous amongst the japanese media in singapore, thanks to my boss. -_-
i'd exchanged my namecard to this japanese gentleman, who upon seeing my name said "ahhh, you are famous, loren-san!"
O o whaat??
followed by, "fujimoto-san is very proud of you!"
i still cannot make head nor tail out of it. was it something i said??
i found out, today, during the two-and-a-half hours worth of waiting, that i am famous amongst the japanese media in singapore, thanks to my boss. -_-
i'd exchanged my namecard to this japanese gentleman, who upon seeing my name said "ahhh, you are famous, loren-san!"
O o whaat??
followed by, "fujimoto-san is very proud of you!"
i still cannot make head nor tail out of it. was it something i said??
press conference
i was at this ASEAN press conference today for the myanmar situation and what ASEAN's going to do about the nargis situation and the impasse that the junta's been putting up – suffice to say, there was a lot of waiting.
the conference was scheduled to begin at 3:15pm but the media were to register at 2:00pm. thus we waited. till 4:30pm.
it was only then that the ministers of ASEAN arrived in full. many burning questions were unanswered by the ASEAN committee, though these things are for sure:
1) ASEAN (ministereal level) is coming up with a mechanism to handle aid and quickly and efficiently distribute aid to affected areas.
2) myanmar's very first step in rectifying the situation is to accept medical personnel from ASEAN into affected regions to dispense medical assistance.
3) foreign aid will only be accepted under the condition that it will not be politicised.
4) how the mechanism works or what it is, has not been established yet, but they are going to talk about it. in fact, surin (ASEAN secretariat) will be headed over to myanmar to get the ball rolling in the next two days.
perhaps the perceived avoidance of the burning questions are practical, though it can be seen as a shielding of myanmar and therefore raise more questions and eyebrows. questions like, "is the junta going to get away with leaving so many people to die while aid waits outside of its doors?"
ASEAN almost kicked myanmar out, but did not, having been persuaded otherwise by an internal member. perhaps it did not understand why myanmar's this touchy about certain situations initially, that maybe it was afraid of political strings attached to the aid that hovers right before its nose.
dangerous, i'd agree; and equally dangerous to do nothing while your own people die and the world watches on with you. perhaps that was why myanmar hesitated for some time, not quite knowing what to do about the disaster with the poll in tow. it's easy to make murderers out of the junta, regardless of whether they are or are not, if they meant to or otherwise.
personally i think there must be sufficient reason that ultimately ASEAN did not haul myanmar's butt out the door. for today it was with a united front that ASEAN spoke, though i foresee that myanmar will continue to draw sharp questions from the media. to answer them truthfully may spell myanmar's own admission to its fear of being seen as weak, or that the junta is indeed well, militant, to say the least. or both.
it can avoid questions, saying that they need to look forward and the issue here is to save the people and report on the current developments instead of pursuing the past while they come up with palatable reason as to why the delay during such a time and situation. perhaps, perhaps. then again, that's my take.
well, now that they've thrashed it out on the ASEAN table, let's hope this works out better quickly, that people won't have to die slow diahorrheac deaths. here's praying the "mechanism" gets worked out quick (hopefully even faster with indonesia's input) and that it will quickly get implemented.
the conference was scheduled to begin at 3:15pm but the media were to register at 2:00pm. thus we waited. till 4:30pm.
it was only then that the ministers of ASEAN arrived in full. many burning questions were unanswered by the ASEAN committee, though these things are for sure:
1) ASEAN (ministereal level) is coming up with a mechanism to handle aid and quickly and efficiently distribute aid to affected areas.
2) myanmar's very first step in rectifying the situation is to accept medical personnel from ASEAN into affected regions to dispense medical assistance.
3) foreign aid will only be accepted under the condition that it will not be politicised.
4) how the mechanism works or what it is, has not been established yet, but they are going to talk about it. in fact, surin (ASEAN secretariat) will be headed over to myanmar to get the ball rolling in the next two days.
perhaps the perceived avoidance of the burning questions are practical, though it can be seen as a shielding of myanmar and therefore raise more questions and eyebrows. questions like, "is the junta going to get away with leaving so many people to die while aid waits outside of its doors?"
ASEAN almost kicked myanmar out, but did not, having been persuaded otherwise by an internal member. perhaps it did not understand why myanmar's this touchy about certain situations initially, that maybe it was afraid of political strings attached to the aid that hovers right before its nose.
dangerous, i'd agree; and equally dangerous to do nothing while your own people die and the world watches on with you. perhaps that was why myanmar hesitated for some time, not quite knowing what to do about the disaster with the poll in tow. it's easy to make murderers out of the junta, regardless of whether they are or are not, if they meant to or otherwise.
personally i think there must be sufficient reason that ultimately ASEAN did not haul myanmar's butt out the door. for today it was with a united front that ASEAN spoke, though i foresee that myanmar will continue to draw sharp questions from the media. to answer them truthfully may spell myanmar's own admission to its fear of being seen as weak, or that the junta is indeed well, militant, to say the least. or both.
it can avoid questions, saying that they need to look forward and the issue here is to save the people and report on the current developments instead of pursuing the past while they come up with palatable reason as to why the delay during such a time and situation. perhaps, perhaps. then again, that's my take.
well, now that they've thrashed it out on the ASEAN table, let's hope this works out better quickly, that people won't have to die slow diahorrheac deaths. here's praying the "mechanism" gets worked out quick (hopefully even faster with indonesia's input) and that it will quickly get implemented.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
newspapers-gone-away
earlier this week, i found out that hey, our saturday and sunday papers are not there. so i called our paperboys and told them about our missing papers and they dutifully sent them over.
then i took a day off on tuesday as i needed to see the doctor. when i went to the office on wednesday – hey! our papers are missing again!
i smelt a rat. the paperboys aren't that careless nor lazy. in fact, they're pretty efficient. and good-looking, in a newspaperboy-ey kinda way.
ahem.
so feeling a little incredulous about having our papers stolen, i sought out the cleaner lady and asked if she'd taken it or seen it or seen anyone taking it – nope. she saw it, but she did nothing with it, left it at our doorstep. alright, so i looked around, poked about in dustbins, walked past glass doors several times and if the doors were wooden crouch down to trodden-carpet level to try to spot ravaged remains of my poor weekend papers through gaps under the doors – no not really. but suffice to say, i looked around... and since i didn't take it upon myself to barge into offices swinging my corded office phone like a morningstar while unleashing a warcry* – i figured it's going to be hard to get my papers back.
i was miffed. i needed my papers. so i asked if the building overseer might help me out with this, we rely greatly on newspapers, we can't do with people taking our newspapers! we are all upright citizens of singapore, honest inhabitants of the building! nobody should be taking anybody else's papers! i mean, what am i going to torture my boss with???
these people! they need to go to craftyhands school**.
* it would sound strangely like "OVERTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!"
**they'll teach you to steal valuable items, first. not that i've been there.
then i took a day off on tuesday as i needed to see the doctor. when i went to the office on wednesday – hey! our papers are missing again!
i smelt a rat. the paperboys aren't that careless nor lazy. in fact, they're pretty efficient. and good-looking, in a newspaperboy-ey kinda way.
ahem.
so feeling a little incredulous about having our papers stolen, i sought out the cleaner lady and asked if she'd taken it or seen it or seen anyone taking it – nope. she saw it, but she did nothing with it, left it at our doorstep. alright, so i looked around, poked about in dustbins, walked past glass doors several times and if the doors were wooden crouch down to trodden-carpet level to try to spot ravaged remains of my poor weekend papers through gaps under the doors – no not really. but suffice to say, i looked around... and since i didn't take it upon myself to barge into offices swinging my corded office phone like a morningstar while unleashing a warcry* – i figured it's going to be hard to get my papers back.
i was miffed. i needed my papers. so i asked if the building overseer might help me out with this, we rely greatly on newspapers, we can't do with people taking our newspapers! we are all upright citizens of singapore, honest inhabitants of the building! nobody should be taking anybody else's papers! i mean, what am i going to torture my boss with???
these people! they need to go to craftyhands school**.
* it would sound strangely like "OVERTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!"
**they'll teach you to steal valuable items, first. not that i've been there.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
polite as pie
"Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn't let on. Kill the women? No – nobody ever saw anything in the books like that. You fetch them to the cave, and you're always as polite as pie to them; and by-and-by they fall in love with you and never want to go home no more." - Tom Sawyer, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
brr
wow, look at the rain.
the office's cold enough as it is in this air-conditioned nation - and still it rains. cold!
the office's cold enough as it is in this air-conditioned nation - and still it rains. cold!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Amazing Grace
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.
The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...
as long as life endures.
When we've been here ten thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.
The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...
as long as life endures.
When we've been here ten thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
falls
i fell.
i fell twice in three days - once on the staircase going up (thank heavens it wasn't when i was coming down) and once during a mad chase of an errant sparrow in the house. i was chasing it with a frying pan and believe me, i'd've smacked it one if i caught it.
hm. i suppose my knees are showing the bruises.
i wonder if i can ever catch a sparrow.
i fell twice in three days - once on the staircase going up (thank heavens it wasn't when i was coming down) and once during a mad chase of an errant sparrow in the house. i was chasing it with a frying pan and believe me, i'd've smacked it one if i caught it.
hm. i suppose my knees are showing the bruises.
i wonder if i can ever catch a sparrow.
Friday, May 09, 2008
foreign press conferences
so i attended these two press briefings yesterday and today at the japanese embassy, and both briefings were completely in japanese - a language that i only recognise a few highly-utilised words.
like "udon". which was not mentioned.
so the talk was about myanmar and the aftermath of having a tornado dance on it just six days back - i've been reading about the disaster and i couldn't help but curse the military junta for being idiots about international aid. you accept supplies yet keep your well-meaning neighbours at the door when your own people are dying???
talk about sticking one's head in one's own arse!
so the japanese embassy called us journalists to give us the latest updates for japan's latest moves with regards to myanmar's situation – japan is pledging US10 million to myanmar, and that myanmar's to make necessary arrangements to receive it on their end. of course, there are mentions of warming ties between japan and china....
so if you're wondering how on earth i understood all of that mentioned above – there's this wonderful lady mayuko-san – also a reporter, who translated the main points of the entire briefing to us three non-japanese speaking people and made sitting there listening to a language i could catch no word of worth it.
sorta.
well throughout the half-hour briefing, i kept having the urge to giggle. simply because it was very tempting to do so. i mean, here are officials in solemn gray suits seated behind serious-looking wood-topped desks in a brightly-lit room with a cream backdrop, speaking solemnly in a language i couldn't quite understand – how can anyone not have the urge to laugh in such a situation??*
anyways. i wondered if they'd call me an anti-japanese heathen then proceed to howl me out of that place.
i wondered if i would have an ally mcbeal moment, and i fought it. i possibly shouldn't have, for the more i fought it the more i wanted to giggle. when they're talking about a disaster-swept myanmar.
that would probably spell the end of my japanese reporting career - possibly until i explain that i understood no word of japanese and that the speaker's rhythmic scratching of his sleeve made me think of a geisha strumming the strings of her whatever it is that they strum. ...somehow i don't think they'd be charmed by that.
the more i contemplated it the bigger the giggle became, oh my goodness me; i'd've stuck it if hadn't focused on how it's not funny, how it's not funny, how...
thankfully, i was able to dissipate the giggles and was straight-faced and poised throughout so the half-hour passed without incident. then the briefing ended and we left the building.
and i went to harry's and congratulated myself with half a pint of kilk's. perhaps i'll encourage acts of willpower with a nice gin-and-bitterlemon next. ;)
* it's like hiding from someone and suddenly having to sneeze just as the person is walking past you.
like "udon". which was not mentioned.
so the talk was about myanmar and the aftermath of having a tornado dance on it just six days back - i've been reading about the disaster and i couldn't help but curse the military junta for being idiots about international aid. you accept supplies yet keep your well-meaning neighbours at the door when your own people are dying???
talk about sticking one's head in one's own arse!
so the japanese embassy called us journalists to give us the latest updates for japan's latest moves with regards to myanmar's situation – japan is pledging US10 million to myanmar, and that myanmar's to make necessary arrangements to receive it on their end. of course, there are mentions of warming ties between japan and china....
so if you're wondering how on earth i understood all of that mentioned above – there's this wonderful lady mayuko-san – also a reporter, who translated the main points of the entire briefing to us three non-japanese speaking people and made sitting there listening to a language i could catch no word of worth it.
sorta.
well throughout the half-hour briefing, i kept having the urge to giggle. simply because it was very tempting to do so. i mean, here are officials in solemn gray suits seated behind serious-looking wood-topped desks in a brightly-lit room with a cream backdrop, speaking solemnly in a language i couldn't quite understand – how can anyone not have the urge to laugh in such a situation??*
anyways. i wondered if they'd call me an anti-japanese heathen then proceed to howl me out of that place.
i wondered if i would have an ally mcbeal moment, and i fought it. i possibly shouldn't have, for the more i fought it the more i wanted to giggle. when they're talking about a disaster-swept myanmar.
that would probably spell the end of my japanese reporting career - possibly until i explain that i understood no word of japanese and that the speaker's rhythmic scratching of his sleeve made me think of a geisha strumming the strings of her whatever it is that they strum. ...somehow i don't think they'd be charmed by that.
the more i contemplated it the bigger the giggle became, oh my goodness me; i'd've stuck it if hadn't focused on how it's not funny, how it's not funny, how...
thankfully, i was able to dissipate the giggles and was straight-faced and poised throughout so the half-hour passed without incident. then the briefing ended and we left the building.
and i went to harry's and congratulated myself with half a pint of kilk's. perhaps i'll encourage acts of willpower with a nice gin-and-bitterlemon next. ;)
* it's like hiding from someone and suddenly having to sneeze just as the person is walking past you.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
cheese
oooh yes. oh yes yes yes yes – nothing beats an after-dinner snack like a small sliver of onion-and-chives cheese on ritz biscuits.
nope, i'm not your traditional/elegant cheese-eater. table water is for when you have some prized buffalo cheese imported from switzerland. then i'll go for table water. otherwise.. .ritz. yum!
hmmm. i want to have someone to share all of these with. i want a fellow mouse :)
Sunday, May 04, 2008
korean traffice police with wonder girls
hahaha you can watch the original one here at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQTIsi0IlZc. for best results, view the original first, then view the spoof.
groceries
i went grocery shopping today, and am delighted to find out that hey i can make myself an udon dish! like, a proper udon dish with miso soup and veg and plump, juicy shrooms! :))
i would've loved to cook and share it. haha! pioneer-woman-but-not-quite - she did spaghetti and i'm going to do udon LOL
but since marlboro men aren't readily available in this part of the globe, all the glorious udon and shrooms will be mine!
mm. that is a thought fit to cheer a destitute up! :) yummm
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
them napkins
so. today i met a lady friend of mine up to get my grubby lil hands on this great facial product that her mother (the genius) has created - and as she was handing that precious pot of gold to me she mentioned that oh yeah, here're your napkins.
thus she passed me this pretty flower-printed eco-bag with two cubes of ..something.. inside. then it struck me: those were packs of well, napkins* she had bought for me some days earlier!
what's special about these napkins is that they come with silver nano technology (top most layer), far infra-red rays and negative ions (second layer) followed by er, several layers of cottony absorbers, super absorbent polymer, ultra (not just transpiring, but ultra) transpiring membrane - whatever that means. (postscript: it translates to, if you hadn't clicked on that link provided, that it is er, easy-dry)
at first glance anyone would wonder why the hells anyone would want silver nano technology stuck near where the sun don't shine. truth be told, so did i, at first.
i supposed, when i was told about the miracle napkins, that every person would want to feel expensive once in a while and while silver can't do squat to add to the quality to whatever it is you want to add quality to - there are some who actually can tell the difference between silver and silver nano technology. luckily for us ignoramuses, there's always GOOGLE to help us out.
then there's the infrareds. hmm. sounds kinda hot and it's already humid down there without any help and we all know the conditions that best describe tropical mangrove swamps.
but i digress. google results say that INFRARED RAYS have a myriad of uses, from thermography to astronomy. so alright, i dig the silver nano. but infrared? hm.
aaanyhoos. according to my lady friend (who is not a napkin-peddler, by the way), this pack of tech completely alleviated her period pains. so its price ($5.60 for a pack of 10, gotten at a discount) is not without reason. that's coming from someone who suffers monthly discomforts - for someone (me) without much discomfort in times as such - well, why not.
what's it going to do, bite me? for all you know, its continual use may regain me my virginity.**
* the sanitary sort. some come with wings, some fly.
** okay, i kid. i'm actually quite excited about this product. ;)
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