Time to kill

It's not over yet and it's already too short.

This year-end break is one of the longest I've ever taken and very possibly the most enjoyable. Technically I haven't gone anywhere or done anything especially 'holiday-like' but the sense of freedom (from a fixed schedule, responsibilities, drudgery etc) has been wonderfully more than adequate.

In general I dislike taking (wasting) leave unless there's a reason for it ie. as in there are specific holiday plans. I am a slave to the limited nature of annual leave and as such treat it like gold. But this time I find myself pondering the possibility of extending the holiday and weighing the consequences work-wise.

Perhaps you could call it escapism, this distance and apathy I now feel about all things work related. It's a creeping realisation that things have become a matter of dull routine and while the drop in quality might not be immediately apparent, the attention to minute detail and the desire to go the extra mile has gone out the window. Going back means facing it and taking action, a prospect I don't look forward to as change does not come easy to me.

Strangely it feels like everyone else is on leave too. I find myself surprised each time I'm reminded that other people are slogging away while I wake up in the wee hours of the afternoon, spend a disproportionate amount of time concocting pleasurable ways and means of filling my tummy and luxuriantly while the day away.

For now all that needs to be done is to continue to enjoy the rest of the holiday, which evidently won't be a hard task at all ;)

PS: There's a New Year's Eve makan (and minum!) to be planned! Yippee!

The scourge of humankind

Facebook is a scary place. It’s a virtual reality where you ‘poke’ (and superpoke) random ‘friends’ whom you don’t even speak to in real life. A place where six degree’s of separation is more like two as you discover that that minor acquaintance (now afforded the dubious honour of friend), once went hiking with your best friend’s, brother-in-law’s dog. It’s not the best place for private people to be as you receive one after another shocking friend requests. People who you thought had fallen off the face of the earth, resurrect in frighteningly lively ways.

It’s with morbid fascination that I watch my friends list grow, not by leaps and bounds but slowly and surely like a fungus with menacing deliberation, spreading it’s spores into every nook and cranny.

What? You can’t tell? I love Facebook!

The old and new

It's my birthday so I should write something, now really.

Have been neglecting the good ol' blog after starting a food blog just recently. And since we eat at least two meals a day everyday, this means that there's so much material and only so little time to catch up with the back load of food postings. I'm enjoying it though since I'd always wanted to start one, being quite the diligent food blog reader. And it's am exciting new avenue as it's very public as everyone from my family to my colleagues, to the stranger on the street, Tom, Dick and Harry have free access to it and can identify it as expressly written by this real life person. It's nice for a change to be so....exposed.

Anyway, if you're interested: http://dinnerisserved.wordpress.com

I was just telling bran last night that the passage of time and the impending big 3-0 next year now no longer felt majorly daunting because I had him with me. And I'm kind of disappointed that I have to admit this because I feel that it's a disservice to single people, the epitome of which I used to be for many many years. The idea that being on your own in actual fact can be really hard. I'm still a champion for single people since I've experienced first hand how much flak society in general doles out. But now i can see that behind the gung-ho independent facade, things aren't always rosy and time on your own takes it's toll eventually.

I'll try not to let my shiny new love supersede my enduring love for this site. So must work twice as hard now. Gambatte! :)

In lieu of something more Important

November’s come round again, and I’m not unhappy! Although being in danger of not being able to count as high as how old I’m going to become this month should send me into a panic attack, I’m still not unhappy!

This must be what unchecked, wanton happiness will do to a person.

(And in a superhuman effort not to ramble, I shall stop here until I can form a cohesive narrative of something more Important.)

Tales of Mere Existence - Lev Yilmaz

This is just the kinda stuff that makes me feel like a creative under-achiever:
http://www.youtube.com/user/AgentXPQ
http://www.ingredientx.com/index.htm

Can I be him when I grow up?

The Massage

I know I have a masochistic streak but this was way too painful. Instead of dozing off in tranquil bliss as was my expectation, I was fully awake for the whole 2 hours most of which I spent gasping in pain. For a slip of a girl she seemed to know exactly where it hurt the most and milked it for all it was worth. I finally couldn’t keep from crying out any longer and blurted out that it hurt while she was pulverizing my shoulder muscles. She seemed taken aback and in her soft voice befitting her slender frame, she told me there had to something wrong with me if it was painful since she wasn’t using much force (I say! My still tender bits beg to differ!).

She then offered up the proverbial Asian malady called ‘angin’ as the possible cause. It literally translates into ‘wind’ in English. I never understood what it meant, but all Asian (or at least South-East Asian) races seem to offer it up as the cause of joint and muscular aches and pains. And each race has its own traditional medicinal concoctions to treat this mysterious affliction.

At least the hot ginger tea at the end of the (torture) session was delicious. For now I’m watching my well-oiled torso and extremities for signs of purple-hued bruises.

Missives from afar #3

My dearest,

As you know my nose decided to turn on the taps today just when I thought I was well on the way to recovery. Being sick for 2 weeks is tiring, the sore throat, fever, phlegm and now flu. Wish I had you here to cook chicken soup for me (and yes I’ll admit coddle me) but it’s also good that you’re not, otherwise you would’ve probably caught it to. It sucks anyway, it musses up plans. I want to get this and that done but instead spend my time lying in bed or on the couch feeling miserable.

I made an appointment for my first (:p) body massage this coming Monday. Went to check out the place yesterday, you know to access its dodginess rating (if at all), and it seems a pretty decent place with its Balinese décor and masseuses clad casually in jeans and pink collared shirts. So I’m looking forward to my two hour pampering treat though I must remember to tell them to go easy on my new collection of mystery bodily bruises, heh.

I’ve been getting along pretty decently, I find myself not counting down the days so much as adding them up, so it’s more of 1 week has passed, 2 weeks has passed instead of 29 days to go, 18 days to go and so on. Am not sure what this means. If anything, boredom will be the death of me, which is why so long as I’ve planned activities and keep myself occupied, I’m actually pretty good. I’ve also gotten into the habit of looking at the time and calculating what time it is in Sydney, heh. And you know what? I dream of that North-South Expressway drive to KLIA, I really like it. I even contemplate taking that drive just for the fun of it, but then I think it’s too silly and I’ll just wait till you return for the excuse to make that road trip again :).

Ooh! I just remembered, my friend gave me a whole bar of chocolates! It’s just the thing for colds :)

Muah! Love you lots hun.

PS. The thing with the delayed or lost sms-es is really annoying, though I’ve begun to accept it, becoming all zen and stuff. But it irks a little anyway especially when our only source of communication is unreliable.

On the past - yet again

Stumbled upon an “on and off” diary (the physical kind) started about 9 years ago. Found it while looking for a compilation of Jane Austen’s books that I never finished thinking that Persuasion might be among them; it wasn’t, which means getting a copy must go on my list of things to do.

Anyway, found scribbling on scraps of paper tucked into the diary, which by the way, not surprisingly consists of almost entirely cringe-worthy drivel.

***

On taking action:

Why don’t we say what we mean, Why distill, why censor? Why care so much about how it will be received. Why the caution? Throw it to the wind, say what you mean. If not now then when? Never? Why keep it inside, why let it stew, why not let it out, let it live, let it go where it may. Let what consequences happen, happen. Why wait? Until when? Might not the matter with us be that we never say what we mean. We’re never honest to others much less ourselves. We’re so protective of our feelings, our thoughts. We hold back until we’re sure it will be reciprocated, until we’re sure it will be understood. Why won’t we let what will be, be? Life is too short to lie to people you care about.

Funny, I think I never took my own advice. But if I did, a lot less time would be wasted, and sure, a lot less people would stick around. Not many people can handle honesty, the absence of bullshit and the doing away of polite, sterile conversation.

***

On a friendship that slipped away:

When did it happen? How did I not see it slipping? Why did I not stem the tide? One day I turn around to find you’re not there, only to realize you haven’t been there for a long while, and I have learnt to live despite you.

They don’t see the surprise, the flash of pain when they talk about you (they don’t know what we had); little nuggets of information, simple things I should have known, things I used to be told first. These little people who never meant anything to you, they won’t know what it’s like to be replaced when I wasn’t told that I’d run my course.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise then that we’re lost to each other, but the questions I don’t have the answer to is “Why?”

It doesn’t matter now, but the reason wasn’t that we’d drifted apart as friends often do. All I can say was that the ‘slipping away’ was intentional, on whose part and why though I can hazard a guess, again is no longer of any importance.

***

Missives from afar #2

My dearest,

Health update: I’ve gotten over the worse of the sore throat and fever, but now I feel a cough coming on :!

***

I passed my exam! Yay!!! :) I was finished so quick that the admin girl at the testing centre did a triple take. Then she looked and my test score print-out and did another quadruple takes, heh heh!

Since I finished so early I decided to do a preliminary scout of the newly opened Gardens at Mid Valley. First things first, there’s still a lot of construction going on in the area so they’ve put up temporary tents to cover the walkway between MV and Gardens. And to boost the wow factor, the tents are lighted up with chandeliers!

Once you get to the entrance, there are bellboys smartly liveried in green ready to open the doors for customers. Scattered at the street level floor are oversized green sofa’s (recognize a theme here?) which under close inspection are more eye-catching for their super-size then for their elegance. They seem comfortable enough though. And everyone from weary aunties and uncles to foreign workers on their break where lounging in them.

Oohh….and they have touch-screen mall directories. No one seemed interested in them though, but I suspect it’s because they don’t realize it’s not just a LCD display but serves a function as well. The ground floor seems to carry luxury brands and on either end are the anchor tenants, Isetan and Robinsons. It’s good that Isetan has finally opened an outlet closer to PJ.

Alas, I didn’t walk into any shops or venture past the ground floor simply because my behemoth of a laptop was weighing too heavily on my shoulders. However this Saturday when I return to MV to catch a movie, I’ll make it a point to coerce the friends to have a walkabout and perhaps try the food outlets there. Yay!

Good night my love, muah!

Virulent

I'm livid at being sick. My throat hurts! It feels like something's lodged in the side of it and it rasps against tender nerves everytime i swallow.

I'd have been fine if not for the rogue germs my sick colleague so generously passed on to us. Imagine, all it took was 15 minutes in a meeting room and that was enough to send me scurrying for Strepsils and downing water by the gallons.

I'm so angry at him. This is no time to get sick!

:(

My First Crush

Aww..the animation is amazing and the stories so bittersweet.



Links:
http://www.youtube.com/user/juliapot
http://www.juliapott.com/index.htm

Missives from afar #1

My dear,

This has probably been the longest day in the history of the world. It started entirely too early (7am on a Sunday?!) and has dragged on even though it’s barely dinner time.

Not to say I haven’t done lots of things today; collected the dry clothes, did a load laundry, cleared out the fridge, tidied your room, went out for lunch, did my eyebrows, bought groceries, had my car washed, watched half a movie, futilely flipped Astro channels, and finally here I am. Thank God I get to cook dinner after this. Hooray for more time killed!

Guess what? I forgot my ATM pin number just now. Got it wrong twice then skulked off as I couldn’t hold the queue any longer while I hemmed and haw-ed conjuring up vaguely familiar combinations. So skulking off into the supermarket, I began to mentally cross things off the grocery list seeing as I only had fifty bucks (somehow it still never occurs to me to use a credit card). And as I wandered the aisles I continued to search for the missing pieces of my brain. It took me maybe 20 minutes, but I finally got it :). Now before you think I’m a complete scatterbrain all the time, this doesn’t happen often, but once in a while I’ll draw a blank at precisely the moment I see “Please enter your Personal Identification Number: _ _ _ _ _ _".

I’ve taken pains to make sure it doesn’t happen again though, I’ve got it written in code that only I can read and only I know where to find. However there might be one tiny flaw to the plan as I’m sure you’ve realized; I’m also liable to forget what the code means and where it is! Sigh, there’s no winning against myself.

I think I’ll never be as happy as I will be this month to embrace Mondays and go to work. At least I can distract myself with work and my colleagues which you know I’m not necessarily too enthusiastic about on ordinary days. I’m taking my exam this week so that’s the focus of my attention. I have a non-negotiable deadline to pass it before the Raya holidays which is the week after next, but more than that I really do want to pass it. Wish me luck my dear.

I can’t wait to see your photo’s and hear your stories when you get your Internetz plumbing fixed :p. Until then, one day down (but still too many to go).

Muah!

Separation Anxiety

I think it will be neither as tough or as easy as I sometimes imagine it will be. The month appears to both, loom large like a gaping black hole, and at the same time present an intriguing challenge I feel prepared to dive headlong into.

It won't be impossible to cope because if there was ever anyone who could survive solitude, it would be me. But on the flip side I'd also be the first to start bouncing off the walls in utter boredom. And if there was ever someone who would miss a ubiquitous presence with such a fierce intensity, that would be me. But I would also be the first to deny, hide it and put up a brave front.

Hm.

Some things you just can't prepare for (save for stockpiling on movie downloads that is :p)

Breezing by

Things I haven't written about:

• Paintball!! (and my bruise-envy)
  

• His 3-days long birthday celebration :)

• The death in the family

Just so you know.

Fade to black

My memories are getting blurrier these days. Used to be that I could remember exactly when in the past certain moments were shared, certain words were spoken, certain feelings savoured or hurt. Everything counted enough to have their time of occurrence neatly jotted down and stored away. So, I'm losing grip on the past. I'd love to believe that this is due to me mellowing out and letting things slide by naturally but maybe the sheer volume of data from keeping tabs (or score if you may) for so long has over taxed this feeble mind. I'm not too concerned though, but if you come across me with furrowed brow scowling in furious concentration, I'm probably trying to sift through the pieces of my scattered memory searching for increasingly elusive information from my past.

Like this evening as we were having dinner, the first thought that struck me as we sat down at the cafe was that I had been unhappy at that place, sometime in the past. I couldn't for the life of me recall when and certainly not what I was unhappy about, but I definitely remembered the feeling. I was pensive for a while, feeling sorry for the unhappy me whose sorrow I could not remember, but then three very ample, juicy prawns on a bed of char keuy teow arrived and well, that set my priorities straight :)

But this brings me to the point that there are some memories best left forgotten otherwise some streets, some hallways, some rooms will forever be tainted with them. And these places might have to be avoided in order to curtail the rush of feeling from the memory of a dramatic scene that took place there too long ago to matter anymore.

I'm afraid letting go of the habit of systematically committing life's little idiosyncrasies to memory will be a tough one to beat, I am very sentimental after all. But maybe my ailing memory will finally be of some use in this area. Life's too short to spend reliving every single miserable second isn't it? And the happy memories? Well there's always room to make new ones.

(I still maintain you forgot to get me a Christmas gift last year, though I can't be absolutely certain...:)

Kampar Noodles in Kampar

We made a slight detour on our way back home for the Merdeka weekend; stopped by for lunch at sleepy old Kampar. A quaint little town, half deserted (possibly because of the public holiday) and clean, very clean. There isn’t the slightest whiff of garbage even around the busier hawker stalls. Quite amazing this. The Kampar noodles were good and oddly the stall we were at was even famous for its laksa, which I might add is pretty tasty stuff.

***

Overheard:

“Oh she’s got a boyfriend now. You know-lah, she’s in IT, majority guys mah!”

They should probably consider putting that on University course application forms. “Women, say no to singlehood! Join the IT field; your man awaits with his trusty laptop!”

:p

I have been presumptuous. This is what it feels like to be a fool.

The One

(I should be fast asleep!)

Happiness really is experiential as evidenced by my current gaping void of a brain. No deep thoughts, no illuminating insights, no emotional depths to plunge today. Just a vacant blissfulness.

I've actually been lying on my bed for quite a while staring absently at my laptop listening to the hum of the air-conditioner in the background and barely audible traffic in the distance. This as opposed to the occasional curling up in a ball, staring at the ceiling flooded with agonizing thoughts fueled by an inferno of emotion. Polar opposites, split personality? Dr. Jekyll and Hyde syndrome? Your guess is as good as mine.

I think you prophesied it. In the few months leading up to it, you constantly explored the subject. You even went so far as to foretell exactly how it would happen. And you used phrases I was to mirror exactly later on.

Of course the less romantic explanation would be that I have attached significance to unrelated incidents and found patterns where there are none. That it was all randomness.

The practical explanation could also be that you had primed yourself into the state of mind (and action) that was necessary to realize your desires. That when opportunity presented itself, you were ready.

But I'll leave logic, randomness and practicality to rest for once and believe the magical. Now isn't that something?

Rummaging through the past

Did some personal spring cleaning today, opened a few boxes left sealed and abandoned since the move about 4 months ago. This is what I found, categorized by the things I’m holding on to and the things I’m letting go off:

Keeping:

1. My books! Everything ranging from my beloved Richmal Crompton’s William books, to P.G. Wodehouse, to Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence which I read in attempt to derive more meaning than what the movie let on (an ultimately unsuccessful endeavor, so I shall remain forever caught up in their unfulfilled passions, questioning why? Why? Why?!)

2. Dog-eared letters yellowed with age. Kept for many a sentimental value; faded ink bearing hopes, wishes and dreams exchanged between childhood friends. I treasure them and yes, re-read them occasionally when I’m feeling melancholy and wistful for a simpler time.

Sadly there are no love letters from pubescent boys among them. I guess I never attracted the type that poured out their hearts in a letter, their exclamations of love were all very vague and I was very distant, plus they couldn’t spell to save their souls. Though I did once receive a letter from a girl…haha! :p

3. Skipping rope. I seriously have no idea when or why they came into my possession, not one but two! But I vaguely remember skipping, though I spent most of that time tripping myself up. Coordination is not my strongest point except when dancing.

4. Presents I bought from Bangkok for two of my friends. Considering that I went to Bangkok more than 2 years ago, that’s a long time to be holding on to them. One of them I haven’t seen since we graduated though we keep in touch by other means, and the other though I met rarely, I never seem to have her present with me when we do.

5. My final year thesis. I’ve been meaning to have this hard-cover bound and titled with gold-lettering but years after the fact have yet to get round to doing it. I’ve forgotten most of the details, so it was refreshing talking bran through it as we flipped the loose sheets. I remember the back-breaking tedium of hard long hours in the laboratory, the frustration of failed experiments and finally the complete gratification of being rewarded with an A.

Out with the trash!:

1. Old magazines. Don’t know why I was hoarding them. Maybe at the back of my mind I though that in the future I would possibly be in dire need of the June 2001 issue of Her World magazine. Err…???!!

2. Gifts from friends and relatives that I have absolutely no discernible use for. Guilt makes us keep them around for years and then there comes a time when you feel safe enough to discard them without fear that you have wronged them in someway. Today I am guilt and fancy free! (with one less trinket-store photo frame :).

It’s a metaphor for my hopes of a change I guess, a flushing out of old habits, but at the same time remembering to keep the important things close

It's been a fantastic week

You know it’s a good week when you wake up in the morning during a weekday thinking it’s a Saturday. I’ve hardly even kept track what date it is. For a person driven by deadlines, obviously this means I have not been in the office :)

Been away for training (yet another one) and as luck would have it, the training centre is practically in a shopping mall….oh, boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! This coupled with the fact that I only agreed to attend the training so long as I was relieved of work duties for the entire duration, meant that it turned out to be a holiday for me.

Classes were leisurely affairs mostly ending by mid-afternoon or even at lunch time. This gave me lots of time to wander the mall doing a lot of browsing and a little purchasing. However one week in a mall is more than enough, all the bright lights, cacophony of sounds and bustling people, gets on my nerves after a while. But I am happy with the fruits of the week and the bright spark of an idea for someone’s upcoming birthday. It’s decided that on that day, a sushi chef will be born :p

And whaddya know, it’s Friday already. Can the week get any better?

Oh, Calvin!

"Girls are like slugs - they probably serve some purpose, but it's hard to imagine what."

-Calvin & Hobbes

Keep them buggers at bay! Their time is past and so are they.

What an ego-boost it is to find soliloquy's about you that an ex or someone who had a crush on you wrote.

It matters little that you only stumbled upon it years down the road and everyone's moved on to bigger and better things.

So if you've ever written something in the heat of passion about someone who was never meant to know, make sure they never find evidence of it. It'll save you a lot of embarrassment.

We all know how feelings change, but because of those damning words, something they only suspected in the past will be confirmed, and they'll have the sneaky satisfaction of forever thinking that you're hung up on them.

And worse still, in their every encounter with you from thereon, they will have that thought at the back of their minds. It won't matter what you say or who you're with, theirs will be the knowing smiles and private amusement at you're expense.

Protect your privacy.

Don't let anyone in except those who wouldn't hurt you willfully.

Or as the Chinese would say: "Save face-lah!"

PS: Yes, I'm very anal about this. I hate people prying and I hate people finding out things I don't want them to know. My last piece of advice: Always be paranoid. you never know who's watching.

Haiyah! Damn long haven't update, shy only...

You know what?

I want to be rich.

Make that filthy rich.

Let's all bow our heads in prayer.
Amen.

Wikipedia: My best friend

Look what I learnt today!

• Portmanteau

• Morpheme

• Nonce

• Neologism

• Hapax Legomenon

• Sniglet

Before today, if someone had come up to me and spouted those words, I’d have thought they were having a go at pulling my leg. But now I am enlightened!

Go on, you know you want to look ‘em up (Just don’t ask me what they mean :p)

Muddling through as always

Addition to the things I’m capable of: Ups and downs, and all in the same day! I never see them coming. That’s the thing about expectations, even when you think you have none they loom up out of nowhere and trip you up. Going with the flow my foot. I still have a long way to go.

Next weekend: day trip back home for big family reunion thingy. Not so big news except that hun’s making the trip with me for the very first time. *Gasp!* I did not expect it at all, he’s braver than I thought. Me and my assumptions. So now the chore that I was not at all enthusiastic about has become that much lighter. This will be interesting.

Well, except for the part where I have to feed him Ipoh taugeh chicken. Ew…gross! Ah, but for the sacrifices we make for love :p

P.S: Winona and her leopard spots have gone to the Great Fishbowl in the sky. R.I.P

Litany to Perfection

Perfect hair,
Perfect skin,
Perfect shape,
Perfect barely-there make-up,
Immaculately French manicured nails,
Perched atop elegantly long slim fingers,
Exquisitely tailored clothes fitted to a T,
And lean legs ending in black stiletto heels.

Sitting beside her, I couldn’t help but feel scruffy, comparatively inadequate, found distinctly lacking. I believe she spoke, quite a bit actually because she was presenting, but I doubt many listened. We were too busy checking her out. I wonder if it unnerves her that people stare while she’s trying to speak to them. She wasn’t a great beauty, but oh, how so very well turned out!

Later I scuttle off to tell a fellow ‘normally scruffy’ friend about her and we sigh in unison over our lack of ability to achieve such heights. We moan; who has the time, effort and discipline to pull off such impossible feats? And we finally agree that we can only aspire and inevitably time and time again, fail to deliver.

Nondescript-ness it seems will always be our forte.

One by one they go

Yesterday....

Chuck: R.I.P

Today...

Beetlejuice: R.I.P

.
.
.
....it's an epidemic!

Fish aren't cuddly (and other interesting facts)

It was a busy weekend ‘furnishing’ the house with some unusual suspects. And so without further ado, please welcome the new additions to the family.

The solitary plant: Angus (presumably he’s Scottish)

Residents of the fishbowl:

The guppies:

Fredrika (R.I.P.) : Tragically passed away before her prime

Winona : The flamboyant leopard spotted guppy

Olga : Apparently Russian

Cornelia : A rather nondescript guppy

Chuck : the somewhat spastic guppy with an inferiority complex and budding suicidal tendencies

The Quintuplet Cardinal Tetra’s, very imaginatively named:

Random Fish No.1

Random Fish No.2

Random Fish No.3

Random Fish No.4

Random Fish No.5

The Ghost Cat Fish: Casper and Beetlejuice (names self explanatory)

The fighting fish: Bruce (Lee) – he’s a lover not a fighter :p

***

They really have brought the place to life, not that I was aware of it being dead before this, but in truth, they have ‘livened’ it up. Always a good thing, and that’s a wrap for the week!

Thou Shalt Not Work In The City Centre

I've been attending training for the past 3 days in the heart of KL, and I'm exhausted. Waking up at an ungodly hour everyday just to beat traffic and then getting stuck in a jam on the way home, certainly takes its toll on you. I don't know how hun does it, but he says he's ok and my tiredness is due to lack of sleep. Boy oh boy, aren't I grateful I work just 5-10 minutes from here; practically in my backyard!.

The training was all right, and coming from a person with a very healthy level of scepticism and cynicism, this could be very high praise indeed. I'm certainly not one for the motivational or self-help spiel, but there was enough meat there to spark an interest. However whether this translates to action is at danger of being sacrificed at the altar of the Gods of Procrastination. Hur, hur! Same old, same old it seems.

Days of their lives

It’s only when others tell you how unfortunate their lives are that you realize how fortunate you are. And while you complain and moan and sulk at miniscule real (or imagined) hurts, there are others for whom a life like yours would be a luxury they can only dream of. This is what I mean when I say I’m grateful, though unfortunately it slips my unreliable mind quite often.

I wasn’t prepared when my colleague suddenly began telling me of her marriage problems. There I was thinking we were just going to have a pleasant lunch together when I end up with a bleeding ear. It’s a tale of years of jealousy, possessiveness, lack of appreciation and much drama culminating in threats of divorce. And she’s a year younger than I am! Their problems began because of the (geographic) distance between them but according to her, even when they lived together the problems didn’t end there. She even revealed that she felt rushed into marriage amidst all this because her family had convinced her that her problems would be solved once they were married. This is how much damage meddling people who blindly uphold traditions but have very little insight into a person’s needs, can cause to the gullible and lost.

And to my horror, she continues to tells me in fatalistic tones that they are now discussing having children. It was an effort to bite my tongue from telling her what a bad idea that would be; dragging children into the mess without sorting themselves out first. It’s amazing though how she can function normally at work with all this happening in the background.

I’m not particularly close to these people, both this colleague of mine and the other mother of three who told me about the lost forbidden love of her life. And yet I tend to be at the receiving end of such woeful tales, things you would hesitate to tell someone who hasn’t been your best friend for at least 10 years. I say ‘receiving end’ because I never probe, I assume people are as private as I am when it comes to their personal lives, and yet. I’m beginning to think I must have ‘Mother Confessor’ branded on my forehead.

But I lap it up, all of this, and keep my mouth shut, everywhere except here that is.

Lucky you :)

M.I.A.

I know. I missed two days. Some days the act of opening the laptop, switching it on, connecting to the net, composing a post then waiting for Blogger to load in order to upload just seems too arduous a task to undertake.

Babysat the parents today, doing all the things I have very little patience for, namely visiting the relatives. Them with the same old questions and false smiles and gestures of affection. I always wonder, with all the history of animosity and bad blood between some of them, how they are able to come together and pretend everything is fine. I find it hypocritical and unhealthy, all this feigning goodwill and making a show of stifling irreconcilable differences. Where are the brush off’s and the refusing to speak to each other and cursing each other to hell? Where’s that familial spirit?

Anyway, ended up with an eye ache for good measure. I used to think that my frequent eye aches were brought on by heat or as the doctors like to say, staring at the PC for too long. So how do you explain it away when it’s been raining the whole day and I haven’t even glanced in the general direction of a PC until now?

I’m listening obsessively to My Chemical Romance these days. My colleague calls it ‘emo-rock’, apparently a sub-genre of rock that I hadn’t heard of before. I’m either so out of it or he’s pulling my leg. Like all music I take a shine to, I’ll be listening to them till I get sick, but in the meantime, it’s pretty good stuff.

PS: I surprise myself by actually having a lot of things to say. I’ve stored them up carefully in my brain and maybe (hopefully) will have the time and inclination to write them down one of these days.

Till then.

We’ve just collected our new curtains and they’re so glam! As hun said, now we just need to add stand lamps to showcase their brilliance.

Not much in the mood today (can you tell?). Last night indulged in negativity and contemplated the feeling of being on the verge of a downward spiral. I think it won’t happen though, not this time. I foretell that tomorrow I’ll perk right up again and will be fit to rain torture on 5 moles of one right ear (in joke, sorry).

It’s almost past his bedtime; he works the early shift, so I’m off to do some tucking in. And after, probably curl up and chuckle over a few episodes of Frasier until I reach a decent time to sleep.

Good night and sleep tight.

In a rush

Since I might not have time later (I'm finally off to my customer's site!), I'll blog now.

If all goes well I'll only be back in the office only next Friday. Whopee!, assuming the Customer behaves and doesn't drive me up the wall that is :)

On my mind: Is my hun ok?

I hear he says he is and will continue to say so no matter how many times I bug him like a broken record. And no matter how much he says he is I also know he'll be hard pressed to convince me. When I've hooked on to an intuition like a leech, I won't let go until I burst, oozing out my insides or I decided to ignore and let it rest. Why the stubborness? I have been right before. And while that doesn't mean my hunches will be right forever after, it gives cause for pause and caution anyway.

So, is my hun ok?

..you give me fever

Fever’s dissipated a little. Feeling drowsy after the banana leaf lunch I happily gobbled down in attempt to eradicate the bitter taste of medicine from my mouth.

It’s the lunch time still that descends in the office only experienced by the few that lunch outside the official lunch hour. Taking liberties? Well, if no one stops us and works get done anyway, there’s no cause for anyone to complain.

Work’s somewhat slow. I’m scheduled to help out for five days at a customer site, however I use the term ‘scheduled’ loosely here because if things had been on schedule, I’d already be working there now. As things go we have yet to start (their bureaucratic red tape keeping us at bay) and I probably will not be able to allocate five days of my time to them as I will be away for training next week.

So I’m left restless at the moment. Was actually looking forward to the unexpected repetitive, tedious work in store for me; anything that gets me out of the office and affords me the luxury of just ‘doing’ instead of ‘thinking’ and all the things I’m used to. I’ve always thought that I’d be content with that kind of job; working as a cashier or as a photocopy girl for example. Now if only it paid fantastically well, had great career prospects and commanded an enviable level of respect. Sigh.

So last night as I was idly surfing, feeling a little bored as usual, I decided that in order to kick start my blogging activities again, I should make a habit out of it. I should blog everyday regardless of whether I think I have anything to say or not. After this epiphany, I promptly went to sleep.

Well then, it’s the next day already and even though I didn’t follow my own advice yesterday, I figure this is as good a day as any to start. So here, this is me starting in case you didn’t notice.

I’m testing out a theory that the longer you stop doing something for whatever reason, the less you are inclined to take it up again even when the reason is no longer relevant.

Take for instance my lack of new shoes. I haven’t bought shoes in like forever, and it used to be because I could not find any that suited my taste. But recently I have come across pretty decent shoes multiple times but find myself strangely reluctant to change the status quo. I seem to find myself making other excuses why I shouldn’t make the purchase. How weird is that? So yes, shoes for me has everything to do with blogging.

I guess it’s also going to be an exercise in mundanity, but one has to start somewhere.

How not to spend your workday

I attended training at the parent company (hereinafter referred to as the ‘Mothership’) yesterday; a poorly executed endeavor to inculcate in us employees the ‘values’ of the company. In past dealings with the Mothership employees I can conclusively say that the trainer embodied all that is typical in the way their employees ‘work’. If anything the trainer taught us exactly what not to be; him. The lackadaisical attitude to sticking to the agenda, the frequent fixation with ‘makan’, dragging what might have effectively been conducted as a 2 hour talk into an entire day of loss productivity. As I told bran, I swear I came out dumber than when I went in.

Oh how he mangled the English language! I sat and cringed throughout. Even that would have been all right if he had a clue about what he was trying to teach us. But his examples were just as painful and revealed an uneasy mixture of biasness, discrimination and stupidity. I can’t imagine that they actually have an entire department dedicated to this foolishness. The intention may have been honourable but the execution is appalling.

I remember after my last project meeting at the Mothership, my colleagues said they were afraid that I might physically send some of their employees flying out the window. I apparently looked that scary. It’s true; I have very little patience with lazy, insipid people when it comes to work.

***

Anyway, am standing at the edge of a perfectly good weekend filled with torturing grown men (hur! hur!), good food, much drinking and the company of friends, escorted by the loveliest man ever. Yes, I have a wedding to attend. :)

The Accidental Stalker

Does it matter that the night air is stiflingly balmy and there isn’t even a sliver of wind to rustle the leaves? No, they are oblivious to trivialities like weather. They smile broad absent-minded, slightly nervous smiles at their general surroundings. As they languidly stroll, she looks shyly down at the pavement and he gently shifts her hand in his searching for the right grip and pressure to apply to convey his care and tenderness. They have yet to reach the stage where smiles are knowing and directed at each other, fingers interlock surely, firmly, and silences are not filled with the anxiety of what to say next but are pleasantly empty. So then they are new lovers, it is plain to see.

And surprise, surprise, he’s someone I keep bumping into. I came across this stranger’s blog not long ago, visit there occasionally then recently ran into him in my (our) office building. Now it seems the coy young lady he courts may live in the same condominium as I do. This does not make me a stalker, really!

***
It’s late Sunday night with a full week and weekend ahead. I am happy that the blues are kept easily at bay these days courtesy of loving arms to come home to at the end of each day.

I miss blogging. I miss having something to say, a story to tell.

Words escape a blank mind.

And yet right now, for all intents and purposes, I am content, happy even. But wistful. Very wistful.

I sit and stare off into a distance not quite seeing the ceiling or the walls, waiting and searching for something I cannot grasp.

and time ticks on...

I shall not have to work hard when I grow old(er).

Always a comfort to know :)

Shorn

..and I like it :p

Shopping while therapeutic losses its luster very rapidly once a purchase has been made. But a physical change lasts a little bit longer. Even after you’ve become used to looking at the new you in the mirror, people you meet days, weeks or even months later will react quite dramatically to the change in your appearance. And each time that happens it’s a good feeling all over again.

Of course I realize changing one’s outward appearance in order to relieve or remedy an internal struggle is, for want of a better word, daft. And even though I know better I can’t deny that I have succeeded in distracting myself and alleviating my worries for a little while. In the best case scenario, maybe a prolonged sense of wellness brought on by the change could help me climb out of the dumps and get out of the rut of obsessive fatalistic thinking. I’m not expecting that to happen, but I’m open to the possibility.

I need to be reminded constantly that it’s not doom and gloom all the time, because on my good days it’s clear that my problems are minor and my dissatisfaction, negligible. But on my bad days, minor hurts take on colossal proportions despite efforts to remain in a neutral state of mind. I am very tired of it; I want the floodgates to shut and the dam to dry up.

.

.

.

.

Can you believe I was just talking about my new hair cut? :)

The last week of June

It's anticipation not expectation.

And I am nervous too but only about whether I can stay in character.

Whatever happens, happens. But as long as we have fun, it'll be just fine.

It's an adventure!

Cookie Monster

My stomach is making unearthly noises.

I fed it and yet the rumbling giant within grumbles and growls, hardly appeased.

Fortunately there's no one around for it to frighten and unfortunately throwing measly raisins down the feeding chute would only infuriate it more.

Maybe Famous Amos would do the trick. It likes chocolates and sugar, it sure does.

Psst! Can you tell? The weekend hads begun :)

Where I want to be: Somewhere over the Rainbow

All is peaceful in the office. All the bosses are not in. All the colleagues are relaxed, a lazy Friday indeed.

******

I’ve been listening to music and doing some miscellaneous documentation.

After all this time, Eva Cassidy’s delicate crooning still manages to soothe the soul.

I had yet another delicious duck rice lunch at Sunrise, Paramount Garden. If you haven’t been there yet, you should know you’re missing a cramped, overcrowded, hot and sticky, run-down restaurant, where the waitresses are just as hot and bothered and the proprietors shout orders at each other at ear piercing decibel levels and the waiting customers breathe down the necks of the seated customers. Yeah, that, and the best duck rice I’ve ever had.

******

In other news, it’s June!

How time flies, but I hope, not in vain.

"Drama Minggu Ini"

I’m holed up at home because today I am a danger to myself.

I went out this morning to start my day and promptly locked myself out of my house and effectively trapped myself at my entrance foyer as the front grill was locked too. To cut a long story short, I made many calls, made many people laugh heartily and finally got rescued by the locksmith who tactfully asked if the wind slammed the door shut behind me. Subsequently I’ve been absent-minded the rest of the day, doing things many times over, forgetting this and that and don’t even get me started on my driving. All this because my mind has been busy running over the ‘exciting’ events and being occupied chastising my own self for being so silly.

So while I had my weekend schedule all planned out, I’ve decided I shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery for the time being or else death would be an imminent threat.

Listen and you shall hear

When you’ve been a listener for the longest time, then finally find someone you can talk to, do you forget the art of listening?

The art of reading between the lines of a summarized sentence from one who is practiced in brevity. The art of recognizing pregnant sentences cloaked in simplicity and supposed straightforwardness. The art of holding your peace and not goading on an ineloquent speaker. The art of knowing not to interrupt a silence because it is necessary in the formation of the next sentence, even if that comes after and extended period. The art of reading nuances like hesitant pauses and changes in inflection.

Listening is something that needs to be practiced if it doesn’t come naturally, but my question is this: Do you forget how to do it once you’ve found your voice?

A place to call home

So we’ve finally moved in after weeks of tiring painting, cleaning, furnishing (we put together our own furniture!) and packing. Our place still has quite a way to go before we can sit down, relax and enjoy it, but for now it’s functioning amply.

As I told him, I’m still waiting to feel happy at the culmination of what I had wished for, for the longest time. It hasn’t arrived yet and maybe it’s due to the stress of planning for a life together. It’s far from easy and strips the idealistic romance out of the proceedings when endless important decisions need to be made with a consensus between two individualistic people. Compromise for us is a full time occupation.

And so I wait, a little impatiently, to crack open a bottle of wine, snuggle with my love and just let everything drift away. That, to me, would be coming home.

Holidays are so much better spent with company isn't it?

Was just telling a friend who's miles away how nice it would be if she were here and we could go have a leisurely breakfast at some cafe as we plan our shopping itinerary for the day.

But here I am, alone on a holiday, pouting just a little, reluctant to start the day eventough I've got tons to accomplish before the day ends.

Oh well.

And I didn't even sleep in! Where's the justice in that?

Relax [Take it easy]

The honeymoon period is lasting longer than I expected.

It’s entered its third week now. Occasionally there is stuff to do, proof read this, put together that final proposal, fine tune a write up, review someone’s work; bits and pieces here and there not lasting more than a day each.

The rest of the time is spent chatting; both face-to-face and virtual-ly, surfing, listening to music, writing, and even reading! Free time sure is stressful. No, seriously.

During this freer period I like it when I have just enough ‘easy’ work to occupy approximately 70% of my day. Unfortunately it seems to be all or nothing here. When there’s work, it overflows, and when the opposite is true, the dry spell makes the passage of every second excruciating. It’s when I have work, no matter how tough it is, that I find it easy to come to work. When I know my schedule is empty, the effort to get out of bed is truly monumental.

I’m relaxed, but expectant. Keeping my doggy ears pricked for signs of the next avalanche.

Klutz

This morning I dunked my thumb into my coffee.

No, not because I mistook my thumb for a doughnut but because well, it’s just something I do. No! I don’t mean that I enjoy dunking my thumb in coffee at regular intervals but that I’m clumsy like that.

I’ve been getting phantom bumps and bruises on body ever since I can remember. I’d get up in the morning and lo and behold there would be a brand new bruise I have no recollection of having acquired. I’ve probably bumped into every surface in my vicinity that it is humanly capable of bumping into with my legs, arms and even my head, at least twice over. I could even make a pastime of counting the number of bruises I had at any one time, but that would mean I’d spend even longer in the bathroom admiring their beautiful colouring and comparing their pain-inducing level. In fact I enjoy finding new bruises; it makes me look rather comically battered, like my body is more lived in than others somehow.

My dad used to shake his head and call me accident-prone when I was still little. I lost count of the number of drains I fell dramatically into, whether trying to walk across it or riding my bike straight into it. And my siblings didn’t like me very much because they would get blamed for not looking out for their clumsy little sister when we played together. Oh and don’t even get me started on the time I chomped on my own tongue while pretending to be Superman. It was a bloody affair, and a most satisfying classic injury.

Unfortunately my clumsiness also extends past the domain of my own body. And naturally Bran is the primary, innocent target to get in the way of my flailing arms and legs. I’ve stepped on, poked, scratched and done numerous other types of bodily harm to the love of my life. It’s lucky he loves me and stoically bears the suffering though he does remind me every time to try not to kill him. And I reply that I will try…..if I don’t inadvertently kill myself first that is.

Salsa might be more social than I am.

Went for my first ‘dance party’ last weekend and this is what I did:

- danced with my classmates, very reassuring as they were as lost as I was.

- danced with some of the pro’s thus thoroughly embarrassing myself because I had to struggle to keep up and figure out what to do when they sprang new steps on me.

- Sat down at the sidelines exhausted after each dance and watched mesmerized as the professionals showed just how accomplished they are

- Left early to a much welcome foot massage as my feet were killing me and yes, because I was feeling out of place and out of my depth again

There is much more to learn about the intricacies and dynamics of this very social dance. And I’m not just talking about the dance steps. The dancers are hardly of a certain ‘kind’ or mold, the guys might look like the geekiest sort of people you’d never imagine grooving to anything, but on the dance floor they’re skillful and quick-footed. It’s also great to see how there doesn’t seem to be much favouritism when it comes to selecting dance partners. While it is only natural to expect that people would have their preferences when it comes to whom they dance with, it seemed to me that the dancers were making the rounds and dancing with as many different people as possible. It was all very promiscuous really :p. Ahem, but in all aspects the dancers displayed commendable decorum.

But the party got me thinking if maybe I had overestimated my ability to keep up and master the dance. I know it’s still early days yet and it will take lots of practice to get anywhere near passable but I wonder if I might have chosen an inappropriate discipline for myself. Perhaps a waltz would be better suited to my capabilities.

Hm. Nothing to do now except to see how it goes, at least I’m broadening my horizons and I know a little bit more than I did before and that’s always worth the effort.

Dance school graduate

So we’ve graduated and moved on to the next level.

Funnily enough, the students remaining have become instantly friendlier, as if we are suddenly bound together by our supposed seriousness of intent. That’s nice, since it had been my biggest problem so far, having joined the class on my own unaccompanied. In fact they’ve become so familiar that they demand to know what my excuse could possibly be not to go out dancing with them! My, my, what a vast difference.

I also notice a subtle but distinct change in the way the instructor interacts and instructs us. He’s exercising a firmer hand now, has upped his expectations of our performance and takes a bit more time to give some individual comments and pointers. He’s able to do all this now also because the class has been reduced by almost half what it was previously. And surprisingly enough it now has an equal number of guys and girls, so no one is left without a partner at any time.

I like the change of atmosphere and yes, I really must find time to go out dancing with my new-found (bossy) dance buddies :p.

Night.
Time to sleep.
Time to dream of people and places
as we’d like them to be.

Time to awaken desire
and let it roam free.
To a place we might call home.
To warm arms that stretch
to embrace and enclose.
To glinting words
just beyond the edge of a whisper.

Come,
quietly now.
In the night,
find refuge.

Not your average everyday romance

I love the way he gently extricates his hand, caresses and pats mine each time before he takes his left hand back to join his right in maneuvering the car. It’s as if he’s reassuring me that his hand will be back in mine as soon as he can muster. It is a gesture so unnecessary that it is at once unaffectedly romantic and deeply, deeply appreciated.

Walking on eggshells

(Written 3 months ago. It is true, not even I can keep up with my moods. The ebbs and flows while familiar are most times indecipherable when I’m at the opposite end of the spectrum)

I suddenly feel depressed.

Well not quite, been deflating for a while probably.

I feel sucked in, suppressed somehow. I must not have been paying attention to myself. Time for a good cry I think, a little bout of self-pity. Time for a few tears rolling down the cheeks and a quivering mouth with down turned lips. It’s times like this that I just don’t want to try. Like a cycle isn’t it? Never really any good reason though, so not much point trying to figure anything out. Just ride it out. Oh things will be right as rain tomorrow, it always is, nothing to worry about. Thing about cycles is that they never last for very long, neither the very good nor the very bad.

(Hm. But this isn’t a cycle is it?)

You know the feeling you get after you’ve tried too hard? It’s exhausting trying to keep up, and so eventually you run out of steam and then all you want to do is retreat. Retreat from participating and from caring and definitely from trying. The self-pity creeps in and you question why you’re not allowed to just be.

I’m not complaining (it is the self-pity talking) but I have to wonder if I’m not doing something wrong, that perhaps I might be going about things in the wrong way. That while I have good intentions, the execution part is not foolproof otherwise it (I) wouldn’t be breaking down once in a while. I shouldn’t ever have to feel stretched, on edge or have flashes that I’m in denial of my own needs sometimes. I hope it’s a passing phase. I hope I won’t have to walk on eggshells; forced to be careful of every phrase, expression and reaction for fear it be misconstrued. Nothing should have to be so hard.

Of course, it also stands to reason that I should just relax, which is perfectly good advice except that I’m not wired that way, I think way too much.

And well since it’s late and every sob story needs to have a happy ending, these are mine: that things will be all right tomorrow, I can almost guarantee it, and that even while wallowing knee deep in self-pity, I don’t think the world has crashed down on me and therefore damning me to be bitter for the rest of my life.

On not being tied down

(written 5 months ago)

My bedroom is a testimony to my non-committal nature. But as recent as yesterday there has been this burgeoning feeling that I want this to change. Get committed, even if it is only to furniture. That would be a start.

Everything about me is about non-committance (there is no such word, I looked!). It’s all about not making concrete decisions, things that would tie me down. I always have the backdoor open just in case. After all these years of being on my own and earning my own keep, I have scarcely anything to show for it. All my possessions could fit into a car. Of course one could argue that possessions are not everything, but they do indicate a level of ‘settled-ness’ of being your own person, an indication that you don’t expect everything to be temporary and therefore have taken every pain to prepared for that eventuality.

Case in point, look at how long it took me to decide to buy a car! It’s my only significant possession (though technically the finance company still owns it till I complete my payments). The only reason I finally got it is due to my sister’s insistence and nagging. If it were up to me I’d still be procrastinating a few years on and finding all sorts of reasons why I shouldn’t get a car (“I should hold out for a newer model”, “I should wait until finances improve”, “Public transport is still do-able”, etc, forever and ever Amen.) And right till the end when I signed on the dotted line, I was still trying to back out of it.

Why this feeling that everything is transient, that I need to have a fall back plan, just in case things go south overnight? It applies to everything: work, relationships, living arrangements, possessions (or the lack of them). Amazing. What kind of life is this? I want the creature comforts, and I could afford it, but I live minimally and in relationships I have struggled in the past to have optimism and trust in someone else and not doubt and prepare for the worst all the time. I think I’m being smart, streetwise perhaps. But it seems like a half life, to what end this?

Mid-afternoon

A lull, probably temporary, in the workday.

A lull, possibly permanent, in the brain.

Heh.

I’m getting cross-eyed with sleepiness. The monitor stretches and blurs and the words swim lazily overlapping each other.

I spent time today contemplating the city skyline lost in endless possibilities. We will find something I know if I don’t stress out too much and sink in expectations. I’ve thought about this for so long I even have the image and accompanying aura burned into my head. And somehow by this I know that it will work out for us, one step at a time.

Exclamation Marks!

I can’t stop yawning!

It is Monday! How bad or good it and the following days will be depends on a decision which will be made by noon.

Noun: allegory ‘alu`guree is my new favourite word! Don’t you just love how it makes your tongue roll and how it sounds so foreign?!

I’m so sleepy!

Salary’s out tomorrow! And it includes an as yet mysterious amount of annual increment and bonus!

(I’m still yawning!)

Legitimacy

I never thought I’d say this but I’ve been thinking about legitimacy. The pressure that society puts on people to conform to a set of sociably acceptable rules dictated and indoctrinated by religion, tradition and so called ‘good’ moral values.

I know what I want and while I wish away at idle moments with abandon, I hesitate to take any step in that direction because I know how difficult it is going to be to face everyone’s reaction. Wish as hard as we might, we aren’t islands and at some point or another I will have to either work hard at hiding the reality of choices I might make or boldly risk facing awkward reactions, disapproving arguments or stony judgmental silences. And yet I know that what I want and what I would love to have is harmless, it’s just society that would swiftly condemn. After all, how can something that makes you happy and doesn’t hurt anyone, be wrong? I have to save so many people’s faces and take care of all their sensibilities that it’s ridiculous.

In any given situation in the past I would have invariably determined that what other people think doesn’t matter and just gone on my merry way. But this time I just don’t know. I do not want to end up isolating and being angry at myself because I have allowed other people to make me feel guilty.

And so I find myself not broaching the subject with the party involved though I think about it often enough and have made a hobby of collecting minor reasons here and there to justify not making that choice.

If only I could find the balls to thumb my nose at society and say “This is my life, if you can’t deal, so be it!”

Working girl: Another day in the life

Work’s been brutal. And I’m actually used it. The familiarity certainly doesn’t stop me from complaining before I resign myself to the same old, same old but strangely enough I laughed more today than I do on (rare) slow days. Maybe I’ve developed a way of taking my mind off things for a little while.

Anyway, back to work. Yesterday was the first time the thought of quitting crossed my mind since I joined this company. It was in the middle of probably the worst external meeting I had ever sat through. But it wasn’t born of a juvenile emotional reaction when faced with difficulty. In fact it was more of a calm realization.

I think what got to me most was the snide comments from our working partner. I understand that they were venting their frustrations at the wrong party but because I could see their point it made me feel embarrassed to be representing my company. And that was the reason the thought crossed my mind: I don’t want to be associated with a company management lacking in sound decision making and high standards in professionalism.

As the Chinese say, I “lost face”.

I might not love what I do, but I take pride in doing a good job. So while it wasn’t personal, I felt the sting all right and I don’t want it to happen again. But when so very little is in your power to change, what can you do?

Thing is I really want to avoid looking for another job. I simply don’t feel I have the strength to start over.

Maybe at 28 going on 29, I’m just too old a dog to be learning new tricks that I don’t care about.

(And in case you’re reading hun, no, this isn’t it! :p )

2 Floors down

We’ve made the move to our new office digs today. It is very white, quite warm, filled with heady fumes and for the moment very noisy with all the construction still going on.

We have a few balconies, which makes the smokers ecstatic, and will come in handy should any of us feel like hurling ourselves or others to their deaths during the workday. Neat.

The downside is that we now share the same office space as HR, and for someone who’s never on time, this will prove a challenge, much stealth will be required ;).

Lyrics stuck in my head

“I’m getting old and I need something to rely on…

And if you have a minute,

Why don’t we go,

Talk about it,

Somewhere only we know.”

Keane – Somewhere only we know

***

“This is the way you left me,

I’m not pretending,

No hope, no love, no glory,

No happy ending.”

Mika – Happy Ending

***

Yup, mainstream at its best.

Wake me up before you go, go.

The sound of the alarm clock this morning was like a (very loud) herald of impending doom. I’d been away from the office so long that I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be unceremoniously awoken from peaceful slumber at an ungodly hour. Blame it on many idyllic late nights and even later mornings, or make that afternoons, heh.

The situation at work is pretty dire now that my third (within the span of 1 year!) and newest boss has moved on to greener pastures after only 1 month with the company. I joke that the reason she left was that I drove her to desperation, but when yet another colleague asks me who’s going to help them with numerous proposals in the pipeline, it’s with very little humour that I reply with “Me, myself and I”.

When it comes to work, one thing has become clearer with time though, more and more I want to be less and less like my colleagues. I don’t want work that I do not love to become my entire life. I don’t want to slave from sun up to sun down (and then some) for something I consider just a means to support my lifestyle. I don’t want it to eat into my free time. I don’t want a promotion as I have had more than I can handle for the past year though it would be nice to have a title that denotes seniority. Just give me more money and move along.

Sigh.

So I’m still looking for that grand passion though, that thing for which I will not need and alarm clock to wake me up to do.

And your opinion matters because?

Just the other day amidst scrambling with a proposal (yet again!) some idiot interrupted me. This despite me putting on my most foreboding ‘don’t-mess-with-me-I-have-no-time-for-you-unless-you-require-the-Heimlich-
manouvere-performed-on-you-pronto!’ face. I could see him hovering at the corner of my eye, circling closer and closer, just waiting to interject when I relaxed my expression a little bit.

After pleasantries and business cards were exchanged during which I gave him the world’s most fake smile designed to shoo away pesky bugs, he proceeded to interrogate and give me career advice. Yes, you heard right. In less than a minute of meeting an outsider in my own office, he has proclaimed that I must step up the ladder and move to a multinational company. If I wasn’t so stunned at his audacity, I would have laughed my head off. This stranger who could very well be younger than I am making a snap decision as to where my career path lies and has the cheek to nod gravely and encourage me to seriously consider it.

This is only the second time something like this has ever happened to me. The other time I bumped into this new recruit from another department on his first day, at the photocopy machine. He took a peek at the proposal I was making a copy of then told me with utter seriousness that it would be a difficult proposal to write even though he admitted that he himself had no experience in the subject matter. For the whole time I was there making the copy, I struggled to look polite as he tried to drive home his point and seemed genuinely worried about my capabilities (or the lack of it I suppose). And all this after just saying hello to me for the first time and having no idea what I do. I walked off with as much dignity as I could muster while cursing him under my breath. Heh. You wouldn’t believe that we’re friends now and he has since apologized when I chastised him about his tactless opening performance.

I guess some people just lack the brain cells that modulate timing and appropriate behaviour.

Perspective

Funny how a review of the past can bring you to a different conclusion of your actions and those of others in the light of new experience. Things I thought were innocent and harmless are only ‘technically’ so now (if you’re calculative and very dumb), but for all intents and purposes damage was done whether those it was perpetrated against know about it or not. And I am sorry though the person who should hear it can never know nor would ever appreciate hearing it. Now I can put myself in someone else’s shoes and know it was wrong, no matter how smugly I thought that I did the right thing in the end, it was only barely so and not nearly enough by any standards.

It hasn’t stopped, this looking back and reviewing what I thought was settled and done with. It doesn’t mean that anything is resurrected, far from it, most of these things are deader than dead, just that the conclusions that I neatly tied them up with bear rethinking now and again.

In hindsight, insight.