The funny thing about the whole self help movement and the management gurus are that they all have their own 2 cents worth to chip in about something, they all have different ways to solve a problem which they claim is the best way move my cheese dammit and the elephant ate the frog but at the same time, they all agree with each other's bull...
C'mon man, somebody's gotta be wrong.
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
the journey
I feel empty. No happiness nor sorrow. Caught in this in between emotion. There is nothing I want that makes any practical sense. Perhaps my mind and heart are at odds... bending my perceptions, creating a void. I feel more mortal than ever... the impending end to this journey weights heavily. Have I done enough? Have I been brave enough? Have I loved enough? Dared enough? Have I cried enough? Laughed enough? Failed enough? Succeed enough? If I leave this very day... Have I done enough? tried hard enough?
It bothers me that I can't answer these questions.
It bothers me that I can't answer these questions.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Christmas Eve
Just trying to do the best one can. Perhaps there is never a good enough.
Merry? Christmas.
Merry? Christmas.
2008- Still Functioning
It's one day before Christmas eve and the office sits quiet like just before the invigilator says "OK pens down". I'm sucked into an endless hum... (or maybe it's just the air con...). The phones are not ringing and I haven't had a single email all day. K's on leave and D's gone to Bali... My bosses are busy getting ready for Christmas with their family. I'm sitting here blogging.
The year is trickling to an end and there's no way to stop time so I'm just rolling with it. Looking back at all the drama around the world this past year, I think I did okay. I hope things will get better for everyone come 2009. I try to remember the highlights of 2008 in my personal life but I can't think of any. the word is... it was all okay. And I am glad.
Boredom tires one as easily or more so as an active day. Boredom in a year? Exhausting. But I really can't think of any complains. I am feeling functional, but just that. Nothing exciting.
2008 is the year I decided not to seek another job, the year I decided that money and being "with it" is less important to me than I thought it was. So now I'm not cool and I'm penniless. 2008 is the year I welcome Rae and Sippy Straw into my life. I already know they are tightening their little fingers/paws around my heart. What a strange and wondrous feeling! 2008 is the year we dropped Dino into the abyss and I'm still wondering about the idiot even though I know I shouldn't. 2008 was a year of happy routines and cutting out unhappiness.
On a side note...I went to JB last Sunday. I have not make it a point to see my paternal grandma as much as I should. I guess it has to do with the fact that I spent the whole day sitting in the same room and not speaking to her! Horrible am I not? It is not that I don't care, I just don't have much to say. So I hugged her several times. It seems like we are separated by years of awkwardness. So much so that the room becomes stifling and I feel like an imbecile. I cut the awkwardness with hugs. That's all I can do. Be there and be huggable. I am a dull child. Probably always have been.
I'm going to meet K and her baybeesh in abit. Maybe I'll have more to say tomorrow...
The year is trickling to an end and there's no way to stop time so I'm just rolling with it. Looking back at all the drama around the world this past year, I think I did okay. I hope things will get better for everyone come 2009. I try to remember the highlights of 2008 in my personal life but I can't think of any. the word is... it was all okay. And I am glad.
Boredom tires one as easily or more so as an active day. Boredom in a year? Exhausting. But I really can't think of any complains. I am feeling functional, but just that. Nothing exciting.
2008 is the year I decided not to seek another job, the year I decided that money and being "with it" is less important to me than I thought it was. So now I'm not cool and I'm penniless. 2008 is the year I welcome Rae and Sippy Straw into my life. I already know they are tightening their little fingers/paws around my heart. What a strange and wondrous feeling! 2008 is the year we dropped Dino into the abyss and I'm still wondering about the idiot even though I know I shouldn't. 2008 was a year of happy routines and cutting out unhappiness.
On a side note...I went to JB last Sunday. I have not make it a point to see my paternal grandma as much as I should. I guess it has to do with the fact that I spent the whole day sitting in the same room and not speaking to her! Horrible am I not? It is not that I don't care, I just don't have much to say. So I hugged her several times. It seems like we are separated by years of awkwardness. So much so that the room becomes stifling and I feel like an imbecile. I cut the awkwardness with hugs. That's all I can do. Be there and be huggable. I am a dull child. Probably always have been.
I'm going to meet K and her baybeesh in abit. Maybe I'll have more to say tomorrow...
Monday, 1 September 2008
Mothering
It is a topic that I will have to think about sooner or later. Not because I'm feeling especially clucky, but rather because I'm at the expected biological age, in this society anyway. So it is with little coincidence that I'm surrounded by a bevy of new mothers. This year alone the tally is at 4 or is it 5? It is a lovely feeling, meeting these fresh faces, little fingers and toes. Even the smell a top their miniature heads remind me of soft linens and care bear clouds...very nice indeed. Yes it is wonderful being surrounded by these warm little bellies and elven gurgling. And it is even more wonderful that I leave them with their mothers and go back home to my own furry balls of endless joy. I am relief to be spared the barely dawn milk sucklers, to be spared the wrath of a tiny human with needs greater than my own. A child will be a mini me. And one of me is puzzling enough.
**********************
The topic of being a good mother presented itself today. Now this isn't really my area of expertise, but if I was qualified I will want to say this...(I think it is all the same for fathers too)
What is a good mother? A mother is unique to her children. She is their finger print. A good mother may not produce good children. She raises well adjusted ones.
We are not all born to have nurturing qualities expectant of a parent, but sometimes we do become one. What happens then?
A good mother tries to communicate with her child. Be it 2, 15, 20 years of age... if you can communicate with your child, you will understand better what they need. Remember that they are another being altogether. Why feel guilty for not being able to read them? They are just another human being, with their own uniqueness. Feel guilty if you don't take time to understand their individual needs. A good mother listens (to her children), even if she is by far the worse listener. And if they have yet to speak? Actions are often louder than words. (I got this from taking time to understand what Xann wants and it is very rewarding!) Patience.
A good mother is an influence on her child. Your little human bean relies you as the very first basic example. They may like or dislike your ways but there will always be a slight imprint of you in them, and it may not be just your nose! It can be your beliefs or how you speak to strangers or simply the way you cut your capsicums. You never know what their little bean brains are picking up.
(Stopped to watch TV with Del. Very important routine- Monday nights 30 Rock and Torchwood.)
A good mother love unconditionally. You may not like the way they chew their nails. You may resent their partners or the way they insist upon one hapless job after another. But you care for them nevertheless and you never criticize their choices in life before you learn to understand why they were made. When the time comes for you to admit that you don't understand those decisions, you agree to disagree.
A good mother recognizes the essential best for their child is health and happiness as it is the basic necessity for any human being. As a good mother, you know you are good when your child seek you out specifically, for comfort, for affirmation, for a listening ear, even when they are a full grown bean.
A good mother doesn't shield their child from the harsh realities of life, but equips them with the capabilities to deal with terrors and disappointments. A good mother is a best friend who can frankly point out the child's disabilities but can give unwavering support in that same instance. Assurance.
A good mother does not stop being a human being with her own set of needs and her own set of weaknesses. A mother is just a grown up human bean doing the best for her child. A human bean that was once a small bean. A unique bean.
But I am not a mother, and I am not qualified to actually make these statements. But when I do become one, it will be wonderful to be even half what my mother is.
I will be having dinner with her tomorrow. I am excited!
(I've lost my train of thought when watching TV. Torchwood Ep 8 or 9 - very good episode! Now I'm tired. Bedtime.)
**********************
The topic of being a good mother presented itself today. Now this isn't really my area of expertise, but if I was qualified I will want to say this...(I think it is all the same for fathers too)
What is a good mother? A mother is unique to her children. She is their finger print. A good mother may not produce good children. She raises well adjusted ones.
We are not all born to have nurturing qualities expectant of a parent, but sometimes we do become one. What happens then?
A good mother tries to communicate with her child. Be it 2, 15, 20 years of age... if you can communicate with your child, you will understand better what they need. Remember that they are another being altogether. Why feel guilty for not being able to read them? They are just another human being, with their own uniqueness. Feel guilty if you don't take time to understand their individual needs. A good mother listens (to her children), even if she is by far the worse listener. And if they have yet to speak? Actions are often louder than words. (I got this from taking time to understand what Xann wants and it is very rewarding!) Patience.
A good mother is an influence on her child. Your little human bean relies you as the very first basic example. They may like or dislike your ways but there will always be a slight imprint of you in them, and it may not be just your nose! It can be your beliefs or how you speak to strangers or simply the way you cut your capsicums. You never know what their little bean brains are picking up.
(Stopped to watch TV with Del. Very important routine- Monday nights 30 Rock and Torchwood.)
A good mother love unconditionally. You may not like the way they chew their nails. You may resent their partners or the way they insist upon one hapless job after another. But you care for them nevertheless and you never criticize their choices in life before you learn to understand why they were made. When the time comes for you to admit that you don't understand those decisions, you agree to disagree.
A good mother recognizes the essential best for their child is health and happiness as it is the basic necessity for any human being. As a good mother, you know you are good when your child seek you out specifically, for comfort, for affirmation, for a listening ear, even when they are a full grown bean.
A good mother doesn't shield their child from the harsh realities of life, but equips them with the capabilities to deal with terrors and disappointments. A good mother is a best friend who can frankly point out the child's disabilities but can give unwavering support in that same instance. Assurance.
A good mother does not stop being a human being with her own set of needs and her own set of weaknesses. A mother is just a grown up human bean doing the best for her child. A human bean that was once a small bean. A unique bean.
But I am not a mother, and I am not qualified to actually make these statements. But when I do become one, it will be wonderful to be even half what my mother is.
I will be having dinner with her tomorrow. I am excited!
(I've lost my train of thought when watching TV. Torchwood Ep 8 or 9 - very good episode! Now I'm tired. Bedtime.)
Saturday, 21 June 2008
21st June 2008 Saturday
8,007 kisses... and still freaking fantabulous!
I had to go to work today, though it is such a drag... being Saturday and all.... Besides, I've been keeping late nights again. But I'm really cheery now listening to Radiohead's Best Of and getting ready to meet Delfi.
He's asked me to go watched the closing act of the Singapore Arts Festival- Hydro Sapiens by a group from the Netherlands, The Lunatics.
It's a night water show at the Bedok Reservoir. V. nice idea.
I had better run along then....Late as usual...
I had to go to work today, though it is such a drag... being Saturday and all.... Besides, I've been keeping late nights again. But I'm really cheery now listening to Radiohead's Best Of and getting ready to meet Delfi.
He's asked me to go watched the closing act of the Singapore Arts Festival- Hydro Sapiens by a group from the Netherlands, The Lunatics.
It's a night water show at the Bedok Reservoir. V. nice idea.
I had better run along then....Late as usual...
Saturday, 14 June 2008
15th June 2008 Sunday
I don't know if it's obvious from this weblog, but I'm really having a major writer's blog. Perhaps it is because my life is boring and plain sailing and I'd rather not be blogging half truths. Injecting flashy tidbits and cool analogies. Let the tabloids do that. No let mass media do that. As i keep procrastinating, finding little interest in my own life, i figured this may be the reasons: a) I have a job... not a career, not a dream... a job. b) I have little else happening in my life other than a). Yet it appears that even the best writers start with something mundane. Oh well, i'll start with bus rides. The journey to and from work to be exact.
You see... I pick my job based on locations. When I lived in Braddell, I worked at Newton. Now that I'm residing at Dover, naturally an opening at Dempsey was brillant..(with exclaimation marks.) Anyone who knows the geographical distance of Singapore locations will tell you that I've strunk my travelling time from 30 to 25 mins one way. That's saving 10 mins a day...50 mins a week. A gazillion minutes a year!!!!
I've done the same at work. To quit my previous job, was to recover me time and even more time not spent being stressed out while away from the office. To avoid the insane hours of what I call a REAL job*, I jump right smack into the insanity of rush hour traffic, populated by people with well...jobs...uninspiring 9-5 jobs . It's not traffic jams that put me off. It's proximity to strangers and odours and all those strange things you have to endure in packed buses. When I say the word endure, please sympathise... I am barely above 5 ft tall... nose height wise where that will take me? Armpit-land. E'nuff said.
Perhaps some may say I'm snobby, seeing how taking the public bus was never the transport of choice as I was growing up. But don't be mistaken. I love bus rides. Just not at rush hour. Rush hour where you meet one too many rude sweaty people. People who don't understand basic human laws of whatever. Seats are for pregnant ladies who are straining their backs carrying extra kilos. Seats are for those old people who have endured many many bad bus rides in their lives and should now be given preferential treatment, also they don't stand too well. Seat are for those who are reasonably handicapped. The list is too long for me to explain. When all these people are seated, the rest of us with no concession can go ahead and battle it out for a butt rest. Just manner of speech... no shoving allowed. Speak about shoving...
I shoved several people on the bus the other day. I'm not proud of it. Opposed to that, I was quite repulsed. Body contact is required to actually shove someone, even if it's an elbow. It happened like this. Excuse me, I said. Person A blocking didn't move. Excuse me , I said louder, person B, apparently a moron, moved to block person A from moving anywhere. After a third 'excuse me' and a grandiose action with my flapping elbows to show that I wanted to move inward, away from the front door...I lost it. I spied a whole lot of space in the middle section of the bus and some elderly lady behind me on the front door steps. I started pushing forward with my elbows muttering a string of redundant 'excuse me'.
I don't understand what it is that makes people crowd around doors. Are they afraid that a fire might break out in the middle of the bus, and they should be standing at the nearest escape? maybe it's some secret pact to make the bus look fuller than it really is, so people will think twice about boarding and thus having to share extra oxygen.... Whatever it is, i am going to be enduring the insane bus rides till I figure what next.
If I have my way... I will probably be working down at One North (15-20 minutes by foot away from home) followed by Singapore Poly (5 mins)......
*REAL job - something i created to differentiate between doing a job you are passionate about, a career perhaps, or one that simply feeds you literally, usually 9-5 as you don't really feel a need to stay beyond the required office hours. A 9-5 job can also be something you are passionate about. but rarely happens. this is just my own terms for REAL job and just regular job...job.
You see... I pick my job based on locations. When I lived in Braddell, I worked at Newton. Now that I'm residing at Dover, naturally an opening at Dempsey was brillant..(with exclaimation marks.) Anyone who knows the geographical distance of Singapore locations will tell you that I've strunk my travelling time from 30 to 25 mins one way. That's saving 10 mins a day...50 mins a week. A gazillion minutes a year!!!!
I've done the same at work. To quit my previous job, was to recover me time and even more time not spent being stressed out while away from the office. To avoid the insane hours of what I call a REAL job*, I jump right smack into the insanity of rush hour traffic, populated by people with well...jobs...uninspiring 9-5 jobs . It's not traffic jams that put me off. It's proximity to strangers and odours and all those strange things you have to endure in packed buses. When I say the word endure, please sympathise... I am barely above 5 ft tall... nose height wise where that will take me? Armpit-land. E'nuff said.
Perhaps some may say I'm snobby, seeing how taking the public bus was never the transport of choice as I was growing up. But don't be mistaken. I love bus rides. Just not at rush hour. Rush hour where you meet one too many rude sweaty people. People who don't understand basic human laws of whatever. Seats are for pregnant ladies who are straining their backs carrying extra kilos. Seats are for those old people who have endured many many bad bus rides in their lives and should now be given preferential treatment, also they don't stand too well. Seat are for those who are reasonably handicapped. The list is too long for me to explain. When all these people are seated, the rest of us with no concession can go ahead and battle it out for a butt rest. Just manner of speech... no shoving allowed. Speak about shoving...
I shoved several people on the bus the other day. I'm not proud of it. Opposed to that, I was quite repulsed. Body contact is required to actually shove someone, even if it's an elbow. It happened like this. Excuse me, I said. Person A blocking didn't move. Excuse me , I said louder, person B, apparently a moron, moved to block person A from moving anywhere. After a third 'excuse me' and a grandiose action with my flapping elbows to show that I wanted to move inward, away from the front door...I lost it. I spied a whole lot of space in the middle section of the bus and some elderly lady behind me on the front door steps. I started pushing forward with my elbows muttering a string of redundant 'excuse me'.
I don't understand what it is that makes people crowd around doors. Are they afraid that a fire might break out in the middle of the bus, and they should be standing at the nearest escape? maybe it's some secret pact to make the bus look fuller than it really is, so people will think twice about boarding and thus having to share extra oxygen.... Whatever it is, i am going to be enduring the insane bus rides till I figure what next.
If I have my way... I will probably be working down at One North (15-20 minutes by foot away from home) followed by Singapore Poly (5 mins)......
*REAL job - something i created to differentiate between doing a job you are passionate about, a career perhaps, or one that simply feeds you literally, usually 9-5 as you don't really feel a need to stay beyond the required office hours. A 9-5 job can also be something you are passionate about. but rarely happens. this is just my own terms for REAL job and just regular job...job.
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