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.

The day that was

Valentine’s dinner was lovely.

It was the whole new experience of doing the expected, of having reservations at a fully booked Japanese restaurant that was appropriately decked out for the occasion. It was finding that with the 6 course dinner (:!) we could have our portrait taken and I had a complimentary gift as well. It was the delight that my hun had also arranged a surprise for me though the waitress was less than discreet resulting in my discovery of said surprise before the appropriate time!

But mostly it was being with, looking at and holding the dearest man one could wish for. I do believe I’ve never seen him smile so much at me ever! This made me wish even then at the dinner that I could have been a better companion what with me being so sleepy and tired I had a tough time avoiding sliding off the chair and under the table. Forgive me hun, my timing sure sucks. Looking back, my lethargy was probably also the pre-cursor to spending the next 2 days sick in bed tenderly nursed by him. Yet another thing I can’t thank him enough for.

Big news is, in a moment of rash decision, I promised to cook for him next year. Me, cook! Hun, if the food turns out bland or has to be scrapped of the bottom of the pan, just be grateful if I don’t end up poisoning you ;). Oh boy, nose to the grindstone, just one year left to practice!

(Oh, almost forgot, I love you hun!)

Stuff on my mind

This will be a short list since I’m nodding off (Yes I’m in the office, and your point is?!!).

1. Valentine’s Day this Wednesday and a booking at a nice Japanese restaurant.

It really didn’t matter so much where or what we did, but it mattered a lot that he came up with the idea and actually called the restaurant up to determine our options before surprising me by broaching the subject. And for someone who doesn’t plan ahead, to tell me that he had been ‘thinking’ about it 2 weeks in advance was music to my ears. I’m certainly looking forward to it.

2. Welcoming the Year of the Pig with a week long holiday.

Plan for Day 1: Nothing

Plan for Day 2; Nothing

Plan for Day 3: Nothing

Plan for Day 4: Oh, you catch my drift :)

4. Moving office (Again!)

Well, technically just moving 3 floors down, which isn’t such a big deal except that I’m going to lose my very strategic ‘feng-shui-optimized’ (and by that obviously I mean I can blog and surf in peace, like duh!) current seating position. And it’s all the more painful because I endured many months in a very open space which seriously limited my ‘recreational’ activities, only to be promoted last month to this much coveted place to the envy of all my colleagues. The seating plan in the new office space hasn’t been allocated yet, but with my luck (and I have none) I will almost certainly be placed right under the nose of the big boss. I can just feel it in my bones; my days of blogging in the office are numbered…

"I am so much older than I can take...." - The Killers

I’m 29 years old this year.

Nope. No matter how often I repeat this to myself, it still hasn’t sunk in.

You see, I spent the better part of early 2007 reconciling myself to the fact (or at least I thought it was) that I would be turning 28 by the end of the year. And now it appears that I have in reality aged 1 year overnight! Oh the shock and horror of it all!

Funny thing is, my dear friend who pointed this out to me and made me do the match and all, also went around merrily proclaiming she would be 28 this year. There is obviously only one conclusion that can be drawn from this revelation: when you turn the ripe old age of 29, memory is the first to go. Not a surprise actually.

How could I have missed the signs? It was plain to see: all of a sudden the new recruits at work are younger than I am, the lines around my eyes are more prominent, oh, and don’t even get me started on the southward migration of my fleshy bits. Come to think of it, my weight gain probably has more to do with an age-induced slowdown of metabolism rate rather than my pleasant assumption that it was a by-product of happiness and being lovingly fed by my other half.

But the fact remains:

My mind and body are in decline!

My prime is over! (which really is extremely unfair since I don’t remember ever experiencing a ‘prime’, damnit!)

I have dwindled my youth away!

Erm…can you say drama queen?

Well at least this gives me the right to huff and puff and blow away the next person that dares to call me a ‘girl’. And yet I still feel like a kid. Being called a ‘woman’ is for grown-ups and I have such a long way to go.

29. Heh, can I even count that high anymore with my feeble brain?

Swirls in my coffee cup

The waiter must have been in love :)

(And if you see Mickey Mouse or Bugs Bunny or any Sesame Street characters instead, you must be blind, blind I tell you!)