When i was in Year 3, there was a new girl who joined our class. Her parents were newly divorced, which is probably why her siblings moved with her mother to our suburb, perhaps to start anew.
She had gorgeous blond hair and very sparkly blue eyes. She did dance classes outside of school and said that when she grew up, she would be a dancer for a dance studio. I admired her. She was everything i had wanted and wished i could be. Funny how you want and wish for weird things when you are young. Mind you i also wanted to be an archeologist, doctor, interior designer, architect, teacher, lawyer, etc. Those things didnt amount, obviously.
She was sat at my table and we became friends.
When we went to highschool we started out as friends but were placed in different classes. I was placed with all the smart people because i did well in my entrance exams. She was placed a couple of classes below. We sort of drifted apart. She hung out with the popular westerners. I was with all the smart asians who really cared about their studies.
When we finished high school, our grade was segregated between the asians, arabs, caucasians, others who made their own group. Its not that we werent civil towards each other, we were, but there was still a fine line between the groups.
When i finished high school i focused on fixing my asthma and becoming healthy. It was during summer that i started going to the gym. To swim and do aqua aerobics. Then i found that my allergy to chlorine didnt go away as i had hoped. So, i started going to the gym and did classes. Body Combat was awesome. Its like the down under version of Tae Bo.
This was when i met her again. She was actually doing the classes too. And then later she became an instructor.
The funny thing is, since we parted from high school in very civil manners...actually i dont even recall saying good bye...i didnt think she would acknowledge me, upon seeing me again.
You know those people that you know their names, but if you saw them on the street, you're hoping that they didnt see you, so that you dont have to stop and make idle conversations???
Well, thats what i thought it would be like at the gym. But she said hello, and i said hello back and we did have idle chit chat. Over the years, we mellowed, and we are not really friends, but we chat like we are. Since at the gym, I technically know her the best among all the strangers.
She not only instructs for Body Combat, but also Body Balance. Since i stopped doing Body Combat, we only chat in Body Balance now.
To me she has always been very pretty. During school her she was tall and slim with the right curves. When she started teaching classes at the gym, she was curvy but fit. Recently, i had noticed that she was looking slim. Well, she had been looking that way since i returned from my ankle injury.
Last night i asked her about her weight loss. She said it started about this time last year and she dropped 10 kilos by December (2005). She was getting married in October (2005) and when she realised that she could have lost 10 kilos instead of 6 kilos (by wedding day), she wished she had started earlier.
I asked her what did she do? She said she stopped eating junk food. But it was a very slow process. She would drop about a kilo in 3 weeks, instead of a kilo a week. She really likes dairy as well, and so she changed that by having alternatives and eating less. Instead of milk, she drinks soy milk instead. But she loves her baileys on ice, but she limits that now too.
Her mother is a regular at the gym, as well. And as we were discussing our weight, she provided her input. She said that her daughter would be complaining about her weight, but she recalls that she would stuff herself with comfort food. Like at Christmas, her mother would only make potato salad (with sour cream and mayo) for the celebrations and no other time. Her daughter declares that she loves potato salad, and instead of scooping some onto a plate, she would sit there scooping it straight out of the salad bowl.
Her mother remembers her when she was a dancer, "very long and slim", she describes her as. Thats my memory of her too. I thought the curves were just from the teen years, growing into a woman. But i guess she has proven me wrong. Because now, she is long and slim again.
It was funny how she was retelling stories about looking at her photo album and when she saw some bikini shots of herself. She thought that she was being "rude". A year earlier, she was curvy, ie. busty, and her bust was filling the bikini top. And on her holidays she would be on the beach and people would stare. She always wondered what it was, and now she thinks its because it was "rude" of her for fronting it.
I never thought of her as a prude. But from the way she was talking about it, it seems i was wrong, yet again. Because she was the pretty girl who was also popular, i assumed that she was confident and didnt have the same issues as myself. (She reminds me of Jennifer Hawkins). I mean, she did wear a bikini around the beach. While i would be in boardshorts and a tee would cover my bikini top.
Its not that she doesnt have curves now, but they have been shavened down a lot and her bust has reduced immensely too.
Her mother reminded me of a good point that just hasnt sunken into my brain. A guy at the gym once told her, when she was overweight (which i dont recall her ever being, and i see her regularly) that the ratio of "Food : Exercise" isnt "20 : 80", but it is "80 : 20".
Its all about the food. Very little about the exercising. And if you are exercising heaps and you are not seeing results, that is the big indicator.
Her daughter loves hot chips and burgers, use to eat heaps and heaps of junk. So, she cut it out. She eats it once in a while, now, otherwise she would go nuts. But she is relieved and happy that she has lost weight and has been keeping it off for a year now.
I was thinking about what junk i could cut out from my diet. And honestly, i dont eat the kind of junk that you can replace with a healthier meal. I dont eat Maccas, KFC, i like pizzas, but i prefer the woodfired kind which i dont eat often, so i am capable of avoiding that. I try to minimise the "cream" in take these days, replacing it with tomato base instead.
My problem is sugar. I'm a sugar addict. I love chocolate (which i have now replaced with dark choc of the organic kind). I love well made cakes. I love ice cream. I love lollies. I love biscuits and cookies.
Okay, there you have it. I have admitted to my addiction.
Next plan of action is to cut it out of my diet.
Hmm...thats going to be tough.
Look, i remember when i was young. I was slender. Actually i was a skeleton, because i was sick and couldnt eat properly. I dont know if i should genetically be thin. Throughout my years, i was chubby, skinny, chubby, slender, chubby, fit, then sorta in between, thin, chubby, fit. And thats only from when i was born until i was 15.
CM (the instructor from the gym) was always thin until she put on the weight in high school. Losing the weight now just restored her back to her slender self like the days of when she was a dancer. So, this is typically, what she should look like if she never put on the weight. But she tricked herself into believing that she was meant to be a "Heavy Girl" or a "Big Girl"...continuing the junk haul thinking that the class she was teaching that night would work it off!
Its weird. This girl always seemed so confident, but secretly she was worried about her looks too. And all the women attending her classes were aspiring to look like the curvier her, and were not talking just the heavy girls, im referring to the slightly chubby girls who just needed to drop 2-3kg.
Everyone thought that she was fit and healthy, the ideal shape. Yet, she saw herself as fat. But she was far from fat. And she wasnt Marilyn Monroe curvy either. She was a size 10-12 tall, fit girl. She now looks like a size 8, but for her height it is bordering the skinny side. Thankfully, she isnt trying to lose anymore. I dont want to see a waif training me in the classes.
I guess its motivation, nonetheless, that an instructor who you didnt think could lose weight - since they were already fit, managed to do it by changing their diet only.
So, bye-bye "Sugar!"
And "Hello World!"
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Monday, June 26, 2006
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair...
There is an allure with long shiny healthy hair. I never understood it before, until i looked in the mirror one day and admired the reflection of my own long hair.
Which is why I was blasé about what kind of haircut i should have at my hairdressers on Saturday. I am attached to my long hair now. The reason why i was making a visit with my hair guy was because i had noticed some split ends and wanted to get rid of them.
But when i told K that i was going to the hairdressers, she said i should do something wild! I've had my long hair for 2 years now. So, something different was long overdue. But i wasnt sure if i was ready to do the short hair thing now. So, i left that pressure on my hairdresser. The plan was to sit down and tell him that i was 50/50 on short or long. And let him decide what he felt like doing that day.
*LoL*
It may sound like a risk, but i've been visiting him for 5 years now, and he has cut my hair in all various shapes. In other words, i trust him with my hair. He is the only one who I would trust to cut my hair short and do my face and features justice.
The thing is, i know he likes long hair. On the hair front, he sides with my mother, who also likes my hair long. She almost passed out when i told her that i might be cutting it short this time. She told me it would be a waste if i cut it now. But i told her that i didnt want my hair to be skimming my butt! Its already at my waist!
So, when he sat me down and I asked him what he felt like? He responded by telling me that long hair was in fashion right now. That i had really healthy hair (at this length), which would be a waste if he cut it all off and that he would trim about 2.5 inches and layer the front to bring more shape to it. Which is exactly what my mother would have wanted if i was to do anything to my hair! *LoL* Funny how things work out the way she wants it, without her even being involved.
He ended up cutting about 8cm off the bottom and added more layers to the front. My hair looks almost the same, but much healthier than it was moments earlier. The ends felt thicker and fuller - more robust.
When i arrived home, my mother was ecstatic that it looked almost the same as before. Relief washed over her. I wonder why it is so important to her that i keep my hair long??? Whatever the reason, i'm just happy that she is happy.
And im also glad for my own sake. I'm not ready to go short. Healthy long hair should be left alone. Cutting it would be like murder!
***
Saturday night was filled with a lot of food, a lot of chocolate, a lot of wine, a lot of laughter.
There were 6 of us at K & H's place. We were wrapping rice paper rolls with salad and some buttered beef. Sort of in celebration for A's belated bday, that was last week. But the funny thing was that he came bearing gifts for the rest of us!!!
He had just come back from 5 weeks in Europe...and i was given a choice of potpourri from France or a mini bottle of sangria form Spain. One guess as to which i chose!
Since the rest of the party had just come back from Hunter...the wine was just spilling over our glasses. There were cab sav's, semillon's, shiraz, muscat and K cracked open her bottle of Ernest Hill's Silver Moon. H had baked a chocolate cake which we had vanilla ice cream with. They had fudge brought back from the Hunter and some really nice marinated olives too. We also had chocolates from the Hunter and A brought back some chocs from Belgium.
In a drunken state, we started playing cranium. One of the funniest things was when us girls had to play the "Hummdinger" round, where you whistle or hum a tune and your team has to guess what the song is. K had the song "Wake me up before you go-go" by Wham. For some reason, she ended up humming what sounded like the death march of Darth Vader in Star Wars.
There was also a charade game we had to play and my word was roller coaster. I raised my arms up and pretended to scream, then lowered my arms and sort of shook. T screamed the answer and was right. The guys were astonished because they didnt understand how that looked like "roller coaster"! T was like "its the most typical reaction on a roller coaster ride!!!" *LoL*
I left to go home sober with two bottles of Ernest Hills 2005 Semillon and my present from A.
It was an ejoyable night.
Which is why I was blasé about what kind of haircut i should have at my hairdressers on Saturday. I am attached to my long hair now. The reason why i was making a visit with my hair guy was because i had noticed some split ends and wanted to get rid of them.
But when i told K that i was going to the hairdressers, she said i should do something wild! I've had my long hair for 2 years now. So, something different was long overdue. But i wasnt sure if i was ready to do the short hair thing now. So, i left that pressure on my hairdresser. The plan was to sit down and tell him that i was 50/50 on short or long. And let him decide what he felt like doing that day.
*LoL*
It may sound like a risk, but i've been visiting him for 5 years now, and he has cut my hair in all various shapes. In other words, i trust him with my hair. He is the only one who I would trust to cut my hair short and do my face and features justice.
The thing is, i know he likes long hair. On the hair front, he sides with my mother, who also likes my hair long. She almost passed out when i told her that i might be cutting it short this time. She told me it would be a waste if i cut it now. But i told her that i didnt want my hair to be skimming my butt! Its already at my waist!
So, when he sat me down and I asked him what he felt like? He responded by telling me that long hair was in fashion right now. That i had really healthy hair (at this length), which would be a waste if he cut it all off and that he would trim about 2.5 inches and layer the front to bring more shape to it. Which is exactly what my mother would have wanted if i was to do anything to my hair! *LoL* Funny how things work out the way she wants it, without her even being involved.
He ended up cutting about 8cm off the bottom and added more layers to the front. My hair looks almost the same, but much healthier than it was moments earlier. The ends felt thicker and fuller - more robust.
When i arrived home, my mother was ecstatic that it looked almost the same as before. Relief washed over her. I wonder why it is so important to her that i keep my hair long??? Whatever the reason, i'm just happy that she is happy.
And im also glad for my own sake. I'm not ready to go short. Healthy long hair should be left alone. Cutting it would be like murder!
Saturday night was filled with a lot of food, a lot of chocolate, a lot of wine, a lot of laughter.
There were 6 of us at K & H's place. We were wrapping rice paper rolls with salad and some buttered beef. Sort of in celebration for A's belated bday, that was last week. But the funny thing was that he came bearing gifts for the rest of us!!!
He had just come back from 5 weeks in Europe...and i was given a choice of potpourri from France or a mini bottle of sangria form Spain. One guess as to which i chose!
Since the rest of the party had just come back from Hunter...the wine was just spilling over our glasses. There were cab sav's, semillon's, shiraz, muscat and K cracked open her bottle of Ernest Hill's Silver Moon. H had baked a chocolate cake which we had vanilla ice cream with. They had fudge brought back from the Hunter and some really nice marinated olives too. We also had chocolates from the Hunter and A brought back some chocs from Belgium.
In a drunken state, we started playing cranium. One of the funniest things was when us girls had to play the "Hummdinger" round, where you whistle or hum a tune and your team has to guess what the song is. K had the song "Wake me up before you go-go" by Wham. For some reason, she ended up humming what sounded like the death march of Darth Vader in Star Wars.
There was also a charade game we had to play and my word was roller coaster. I raised my arms up and pretended to scream, then lowered my arms and sort of shook. T screamed the answer and was right. The guys were astonished because they didnt understand how that looked like "roller coaster"! T was like "its the most typical reaction on a roller coaster ride!!!" *LoL*
I left to go home sober with two bottles of Ernest Hills 2005 Semillon and my present from A.
It was an ejoyable night.
Friday, June 23, 2006
"Thinking" Kills.
My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, residing against my spine. I could feel the pressure on my spine pushing against the back of my seat on the train. My lungs must have collapsed. I couldnt breathe. It felt as though my ribs fell and caged in my lungs.
I choked. My throat was tight, particularly on the right side.
Then tears started to fall from my eyes.
I felt so sad and it was barely 7am.
Moments earlier i was on the phone with the fanatical L, talking about Socceroo's draw against Croatia...although im not a fan, i felt ecstatic from her enthusiasm. I was cheery to a point where i thought i might burst out laughing on the train.
Some minutes had passed and my mind went to a place where it was quiet to think. And when it crossed the word "Hope", that was when i felt sad. Thats when i cried.
Its been over a year and my burden feels really heavy on my shoulders. I feel hopeless, almost at a breaking point. I cant share how i exactly feel with anyone, but on Wednesday night I had told my mother, which i didnt really want to do. She has enough to worry about without me telling her my woes.
I was driving her to get some groceries because we were out of milk. It was just after work. I'm pretty sure i was PMS-ing. I was just so frustrated with life. So angry at my brother for something so insignificant and yet so poignant in my life. I told her i was tired of trying to hold things together. I told her i that i didnt know how long i could take "this" anymore. I told her that no one knows, which is why no one understands.
We both rely on "hope" and the truth is i know she is the only one who understands me, even though i said it in English. "Hope" is now my only lifeline, but it also feels like an enemy.
I'm getting that same sad feeling (on the train) right now, writing this, admitting to this. I cant believe tears have escaped my eyes again.
On the drive back, my mother tried to comfort me by telling me a story. She told me that when she was pregnant with me she felt really lucky. When she gave birth to me she felt an overwhelming sense of luck and fortune. She thought she had given birth to a lucky child. She believes that i am lucky. Everyone in my family believes that im lucky. Which is why my Chinese name is what it is.
I thought my name had meant strength/foundation. Well, that was what i was told when i was younger. But apparently, its a derivative of "Gia Boh" (which you really have to say in Teo Chiew). My Aunt Linda wanted to name me that, but my mother said it sounded too harsh in the Vietnamese translation...so my mother changed it to what it is today. Apparently, "gia boh" is meant to be the word in Chinese for "unique" or "one of a kind" in the sense of luck and good fortune. For my relatives my birth was this special, one of a kind, a lucky gift that descended upon them. I was the only grand daughter, the only niece to be born. Everyone else had given birth to sons. Since, I brought them the good fortune of a girl in the family, that meant that i was a lucky person.
I know what she was trying to tell me, but it didnt help.
It only started this whole sad, choking feeling...helping the tears fall from my eyes.
My brain must be awfully powerful. I'm not trying to be arrogant, insinuating that i am uber smart. What i mean is that it must be powerful, since it is capable of unimaginable things. From a single word, my brain can invoke intense emotions that are negative and have no correllations to that word. "Hope" is like a double edged sword to me now, but it never was before. One thought and my brain has turned it into one of my worst enemies.
The grey mass inside my head conjures and processes thoughts that tortures me from within. I know i think too much. Which is why i try to distract myself as much as possible. Its ironic that something that doesnt physically exist may be the one thing that will lead me to destruction.
Please dont take this as a suicide note. Its not. I am not going to hurt myself. Funny how the grey mass is smart enough to decide NOT to take that path. I still know what is right and what is wrong. I just feel so sad. The shade of sadness is not pale blue, its more the shade that is soo deep that it is almost black. But im giving in to that speck of light that i see as my guide in all the dark shades of blue.
You know how there are signs on the packaging of cigarettes that say "Smoking Kills"? I just wished someone had packaged my brain with a sign that read "Thinking Kills". At least then i couldnt deny the warning.
I choked. My throat was tight, particularly on the right side.
Then tears started to fall from my eyes.
I felt so sad and it was barely 7am.
Moments earlier i was on the phone with the fanatical L, talking about Socceroo's draw against Croatia...although im not a fan, i felt ecstatic from her enthusiasm. I was cheery to a point where i thought i might burst out laughing on the train.
Some minutes had passed and my mind went to a place where it was quiet to think. And when it crossed the word "Hope", that was when i felt sad. Thats when i cried.
Its been over a year and my burden feels really heavy on my shoulders. I feel hopeless, almost at a breaking point. I cant share how i exactly feel with anyone, but on Wednesday night I had told my mother, which i didnt really want to do. She has enough to worry about without me telling her my woes.
I was driving her to get some groceries because we were out of milk. It was just after work. I'm pretty sure i was PMS-ing. I was just so frustrated with life. So angry at my brother for something so insignificant and yet so poignant in my life. I told her i was tired of trying to hold things together. I told her i that i didnt know how long i could take "this" anymore. I told her that no one knows, which is why no one understands.
We both rely on "hope" and the truth is i know she is the only one who understands me, even though i said it in English. "Hope" is now my only lifeline, but it also feels like an enemy.
I'm getting that same sad feeling (on the train) right now, writing this, admitting to this. I cant believe tears have escaped my eyes again.
On the drive back, my mother tried to comfort me by telling me a story. She told me that when she was pregnant with me she felt really lucky. When she gave birth to me she felt an overwhelming sense of luck and fortune. She thought she had given birth to a lucky child. She believes that i am lucky. Everyone in my family believes that im lucky. Which is why my Chinese name is what it is.
I thought my name had meant strength/foundation. Well, that was what i was told when i was younger. But apparently, its a derivative of "Gia Boh" (which you really have to say in Teo Chiew). My Aunt Linda wanted to name me that, but my mother said it sounded too harsh in the Vietnamese translation...so my mother changed it to what it is today. Apparently, "gia boh" is meant to be the word in Chinese for "unique" or "one of a kind" in the sense of luck and good fortune. For my relatives my birth was this special, one of a kind, a lucky gift that descended upon them. I was the only grand daughter, the only niece to be born. Everyone else had given birth to sons. Since, I brought them the good fortune of a girl in the family, that meant that i was a lucky person.
I know what she was trying to tell me, but it didnt help.
It only started this whole sad, choking feeling...helping the tears fall from my eyes.
My brain must be awfully powerful. I'm not trying to be arrogant, insinuating that i am uber smart. What i mean is that it must be powerful, since it is capable of unimaginable things. From a single word, my brain can invoke intense emotions that are negative and have no correllations to that word. "Hope" is like a double edged sword to me now, but it never was before. One thought and my brain has turned it into one of my worst enemies.
The grey mass inside my head conjures and processes thoughts that tortures me from within. I know i think too much. Which is why i try to distract myself as much as possible. Its ironic that something that doesnt physically exist may be the one thing that will lead me to destruction.
Please dont take this as a suicide note. Its not. I am not going to hurt myself. Funny how the grey mass is smart enough to decide NOT to take that path. I still know what is right and what is wrong. I just feel so sad. The shade of sadness is not pale blue, its more the shade that is soo deep that it is almost black. But im giving in to that speck of light that i see as my guide in all the dark shades of blue.
You know how there are signs on the packaging of cigarettes that say "Smoking Kills"? I just wished someone had packaged my brain with a sign that read "Thinking Kills". At least then i couldnt deny the warning.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Keyboard Basher.
There is a tosser in the midst of my floor at work. He talks SOOO loudly on his mobile with no regard for the people around him. If he can be f@#$ed, he uses the landline that is at the desk next to me, as the desk that he is currently using does not have a landline. AND that frustrates me more. I can barely think. I pretty much stop working because I am unable to function with all the racket he is causing.
I have decided to classify this guy as a "tosser", after i read Xtn's post.
We are sharing an open floor plan. The partitions between each cubicle is actually very low. There are no partitions between the people to your left or right. Only between the people who sit across from you. This guy is actually in the next pod of cubicles.
When he is typing, he bashes the keys!!! Its so loud, that when i walk to the kitchen which is 100m away, i can still hear him tapping!!! Wait. "Tapping" is too delicate a word, that doesnt even begin to describe what he is doing to the keys.
He is one of those people who uses his 2 index fingers to type. Fair enough, the guy doesnt know how to type properly...and so to compensate for this, he types really fast by bashing the keys at a ridiculous rate. I'm surprised he manages to get anything done...you would assume that by typing with two fingers, at that rate, there would be numerous spelling mistakes!!!
If you had a migraine, his key bashing would be like a hammer to your temples.
*bang*
*bang*
*bang*
He has unkempt longish hair which he ties in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He doesnt seem to shave all that often, as he has this ragged 5 o'clock shadow. He also seems to have only one beige shirt and one pair of brownish trousers that he wears every day of the week to work.
In terms of work, i have nfi what it is that he does. But it seems that he doesnt want to do anything, because from the way he argues to on the phone about the work he is supposed to do...he is telling whomever that he either cant, wont, or will not be able to do it!
O_O
He also has this thing where he goes into a meeting room, dials a conference call number, puts the speaker on the phone to the loudest volume, leave the meeting room with the doors wide open to go and make a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, people from other offices are dialling into the same number and are talking like there is no tomorrow. Everyone else in our office can hear their conversations, because the f@#$ing door is left wide open, while the tosser is getting a f@#$ing coffee from the kitchen!
This hasnt happened on just one occasion. Nor has it happened on two occasions. It has happened on a number of occasions. And just as we are about to do something about it, he rushes back to the meeting room with his coffee in hand and *bangs* the door shut. Then we cant be f@#$ed to say anything as their meeting is underway.
I cant believe how much he frustrates me. But i cant be bothered since im stuck doing end of month client billing to actually start a war with him.
*pfft*
I have decided to classify this guy as a "tosser", after i read Xtn's post.
We are sharing an open floor plan. The partitions between each cubicle is actually very low. There are no partitions between the people to your left or right. Only between the people who sit across from you. This guy is actually in the next pod of cubicles.
When he is typing, he bashes the keys!!! Its so loud, that when i walk to the kitchen which is 100m away, i can still hear him tapping!!! Wait. "Tapping" is too delicate a word, that doesnt even begin to describe what he is doing to the keys.
He is one of those people who uses his 2 index fingers to type. Fair enough, the guy doesnt know how to type properly...and so to compensate for this, he types really fast by bashing the keys at a ridiculous rate. I'm surprised he manages to get anything done...you would assume that by typing with two fingers, at that rate, there would be numerous spelling mistakes!!!
If you had a migraine, his key bashing would be like a hammer to your temples.
*bang*
*bang*
*bang*
He has unkempt longish hair which he ties in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He doesnt seem to shave all that often, as he has this ragged 5 o'clock shadow. He also seems to have only one beige shirt and one pair of brownish trousers that he wears every day of the week to work.
In terms of work, i have nfi what it is that he does. But it seems that he doesnt want to do anything, because from the way he argues to on the phone about the work he is supposed to do...he is telling whomever that he either cant, wont, or will not be able to do it!
O_O
He also has this thing where he goes into a meeting room, dials a conference call number, puts the speaker on the phone to the loudest volume, leave the meeting room with the doors wide open to go and make a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, people from other offices are dialling into the same number and are talking like there is no tomorrow. Everyone else in our office can hear their conversations, because the f@#$ing door is left wide open, while the tosser is getting a f@#$ing coffee from the kitchen!
This hasnt happened on just one occasion. Nor has it happened on two occasions. It has happened on a number of occasions. And just as we are about to do something about it, he rushes back to the meeting room with his coffee in hand and *bangs* the door shut. Then we cant be f@#$ed to say anything as their meeting is underway.
I cant believe how much he frustrates me. But i cant be bothered since im stuck doing end of month client billing to actually start a war with him.
*pfft*
Good Morning Sunshine!
Was i the only one to witness the glory of 2 rainbows early in the morn yesterday?
It was about 7:15am. I was on the train. It started to drizzle. Then the rainbows appeared.
It was so pretty. One was intense in colour. The other was pastel and faint.
Their arcs were formed concentrically.
I'm pretty sure that it was in fact only one rainbow - the inner intense coloured one. I am also pretty sure that the outer fainter coloured one was the shadow of the former. Probably caused by the rain and refractive light of the sun that happened to have risen at the right time.
But that doesnt stop it from being a sight to behold!!!
There is something about the geometry. That the arcs are concentric. Who has ever seen a shadow form around an actual shape? Making the shape the item in the centre. The only time i can think of a shadow doing that, is when you are directly on top of an object/thing and you are getting a birds eye view. But i was sitting on the train. The angles were not aligned with a birds eye view or even a straight on view. I was so far from being perpendicular to the centre of the rainbow.
Hold up! Why didnt it occur to me earlier...? (derr petals!) The sun. The sun is what was aligned perpendicularly with the formation of the rainbow. If anything is going to cause a shadow up in the heavens, it would be the sun!
Anyhoo, it was awesome!
I didnt think anything surprising would occur this morning. Or that anything would occur to match what happened yesterday. But this morning, the sun was just rising...behind some clouds...and it was GLORIOUS! Just behind the clouds, the sun was yawning, the rays were reaching out. I wanted to capture it.
I dont know how, i didnt think about the method i would use to catch it. I considered taking my mobile out and snapping a photo, but when i decided to, the train had progressed and the angle was now wrong. Even if i tried, from where i was sitting, i wouldnt get a nice shot.
I decided that there is no point in capturing a photo of it. I'll paint it. And if i have photographic evidence and my painting didnt measure up to the photo, i would be devastated. So, i will rely on my memory.
I had promised myself that i would paint another picture before the end of this year. A present for someone. This person doesnt know it, as i havent told them. It will be a surprise. They have been lovely and i appreciate their generosity immensely. I had better start cracking if i plan to paint that picture as well as today's sunrise.
I wonder if tomorrow will present itself with another wonderful "hello" to me? Third times the charm...so they say.
My parents celebrated 31 years of marriage yesterday.
Yesterday, also marked my 1 year anniversary with my contracting company. I've worked in project management for a year. I sent an email to my manager to say thank you. He replied by telling me that i had made his day and he hoped that i had a lovely one too.
Today, marks the 1 year anniversary of my touch footy career. Well, it was the first and last day - since I broke my ankle playing. My ankle is still not 100% and i have been told that it never will be. But i can walk. I can run. I can do almost anything but hop too long on my left leg - and who wants to do that anyway? So, i really cant complain...until i try to do balancing yoga acts on my left leg. *LoL*
Today is the 1 year anniversary of seeing my Doctor in the city. He's my alternate to my local GP. He looked after me straight after i broke my ankle, because he was located in my building and the PM (I was working with at the time) had recommended him. He did a wonderful job. I now see him whenever i have an issue and i am unable to see my local GP.
It was about 7:15am. I was on the train. It started to drizzle. Then the rainbows appeared.
It was so pretty. One was intense in colour. The other was pastel and faint.
Their arcs were formed concentrically.
I'm pretty sure that it was in fact only one rainbow - the inner intense coloured one. I am also pretty sure that the outer fainter coloured one was the shadow of the former. Probably caused by the rain and refractive light of the sun that happened to have risen at the right time.
But that doesnt stop it from being a sight to behold!!!
There is something about the geometry. That the arcs are concentric. Who has ever seen a shadow form around an actual shape? Making the shape the item in the centre. The only time i can think of a shadow doing that, is when you are directly on top of an object/thing and you are getting a birds eye view. But i was sitting on the train. The angles were not aligned with a birds eye view or even a straight on view. I was so far from being perpendicular to the centre of the rainbow.
Hold up! Why didnt it occur to me earlier...? (derr petals!) The sun. The sun is what was aligned perpendicularly with the formation of the rainbow. If anything is going to cause a shadow up in the heavens, it would be the sun!
Anyhoo, it was awesome!
I didnt think anything surprising would occur this morning. Or that anything would occur to match what happened yesterday. But this morning, the sun was just rising...behind some clouds...and it was GLORIOUS! Just behind the clouds, the sun was yawning, the rays were reaching out. I wanted to capture it.
I dont know how, i didnt think about the method i would use to catch it. I considered taking my mobile out and snapping a photo, but when i decided to, the train had progressed and the angle was now wrong. Even if i tried, from where i was sitting, i wouldnt get a nice shot.
I decided that there is no point in capturing a photo of it. I'll paint it. And if i have photographic evidence and my painting didnt measure up to the photo, i would be devastated. So, i will rely on my memory.
I had promised myself that i would paint another picture before the end of this year. A present for someone. This person doesnt know it, as i havent told them. It will be a surprise. They have been lovely and i appreciate their generosity immensely. I had better start cracking if i plan to paint that picture as well as today's sunrise.
I wonder if tomorrow will present itself with another wonderful "hello" to me? Third times the charm...so they say.
My parents celebrated 31 years of marriage yesterday.
Yesterday, also marked my 1 year anniversary with my contracting company. I've worked in project management for a year. I sent an email to my manager to say thank you. He replied by telling me that i had made his day and he hoped that i had a lovely one too.
Today, marks the 1 year anniversary of my touch footy career. Well, it was the first and last day - since I broke my ankle playing. My ankle is still not 100% and i have been told that it never will be. But i can walk. I can run. I can do almost anything but hop too long on my left leg - and who wants to do that anyway? So, i really cant complain...until i try to do balancing yoga acts on my left leg. *LoL*
Today is the 1 year anniversary of seeing my Doctor in the city. He's my alternate to my local GP. He looked after me straight after i broke my ankle, because he was located in my building and the PM (I was working with at the time) had recommended him. He did a wonderful job. I now see him whenever i have an issue and i am unable to see my local GP.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Sleeping Beauty and her Illicit Affair...
For some reason in the past 3 weeks, I have slept for about 12 hours from Saturday night and waking at 12 noon on Sunday.
I dont know what has gotten into me...albeit, i did have the flu during the long weekend...but the weekend earlier and the weekend that just past...im not sure how to explain it. I am naturally an early riser. I havent been sleeping in since the days of Uni and clubbing, which is a good 3-4 years ago. I havent slept over 8 hours for about a year.
I wonder what is going on with my mind and body???
It seems to be spazzing out on me.
Btw, I have found the real culprit for my wrinkle too! I was brushing my teeth on Saturday morning and realised that when get rid of the toothpaste in my mouth, my lips/mouth does a funny face and its this funny face that i pull which is the reason why i have that wrinkle.
And since wrinkles come from repetitive actions causing the elasticity to diminish under the skin...my wrinkle is also from the face pulling when i am putting lipbalm/lipstick on and putting cream on my face.
I cant help the face pulling. 25 years worth of doing these innocent tweaks to the face is very hard to undo. So, i have to just live with it...and try my best to be "graceful".
The "Illicit Affair" mentioned in the title, isnt quite illicit. I just like over-dramatising things for the sake of it.
My Will isnt gay. Although, i like to pretend he is. He is in fact a guy i had dated 4 years back. We got along fine then, but i didnt love him. And so i broke it off. We have always shared mutual interests in art, film, food, culture, books, music and travel.
It would be a dream come true for me if he was in fact gay. I mean, then he could be my date to things when i didnt have one. And it would be great for him if i was a lesbian. Sadly, we prefer the opposite of our sexes. And from previous experience, we know that we dont work as anything other than really good friends.
Friday night, i went and watched Bell Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" with My Will. Out of curiosity over dinner at Young Alfred, i asked whether his friends knew about us "hanging out" together, like we do? He said no - that it was a secret.
I'm not really surprised that it has been kept a secret. But at the same time, i wonder at how juvenile some guys can be? It wasnt an uber bad break up...it wasnt like we broke up because one of us had cheated. It was done as amicably as possible once it was realised that things werent working out. And he himself is over it...so, why would his friends be uncool about the fact that we hang out as plutonic friends? Why do guys care so much whether a mate was hanging with his ex (of yonks ago) or not? And is it really about his mates or is it really about his own fears - if his mates found out?
I just ignored the whole "oooh...were seeing eachother in secret" because my friends know that im hanging out with him. And my friends are cool with it, because its my life and my choices. Were not doing anything wrong. Were company for eachother to do the things that no one else but us enjoy doing. He is the friend i ask if i want to go and watch a foreign film. I'm the friend he asks to join him if there is an exhibition he knows no one else will want to go to. There is a mutual understanding and appreciation for all things cultural and visual/mentally stimulating.
It is a shame that it didnt work out previously, but i love the fact that we can be friends. And if our relationship - this hanging out with one another - must be kept a secret, then so it shall be.
Speaking of Illicit Affairs...I watched Season 3 of Sex and the City again. I know, i know...its an addiction now! But what i wanted to point out is that i cant sit and stomach the way Carrie cheats on Aidan Shaw with Mr Big (who is married at the time).
I frown on any form of cheating in relationships. I dont believe in lying. I dont believe in grass-cutting. I dont believe in affairs with married or attached men. It is wrong. WRONG! And I really hate Carrie for cheating on Aidan. Aidan was a lovely, good looking, talented, tender loving man. Honest and devoted...he was the rock for her to hold on to...their relationship was really good and then she f@#$ed it up by sleeping with Mr Big. Mr Big is married with Natasha at this point in time. Even though he says its not working...they shouldnt have had the affair. If it wasnt working, he should have just divorced Natasha. Not have the affair and then divorce. Carrie, being attached to Aidan and telling him that she loves him, goes and bonks Mr Big anyway...even though she knows it is wrong.
I cant tolerate people who lack will power. I know some are not as strong as I am. And I am not declaring that i have the strongest power of will either, I am human after all. But something like cheating with a married man, while you are attached to a loving boyfriend that you declare that you love - its a BIG no-no in my books! Its a cardinal sin that i dont believe that anyone should commit to the person they love, if they truly love them...
The only time where I would forgive a person for doing "the wrong" is when they didnt know that they were doing it. Specifically, i mean if a guy has lied to a girl or when asked if he was single, led the girl to believe that he was actually available when he was attached. Then i wouldnt blame the girl for not knowing the wiser. He lied to her. He lied to his current girlfriend/wife. But if you find that you have been misled, get out as quick as you can. Dont think that a cheater will change his ways for you. Salvage yourself and your dignity from that disaster. We all have standards, dont let your standards be so low.
* Vice versa too, if a girl had lied to a guy about her status...then the guy isnt in the wrong for being misled by the girl.
Thats my thoughts on the subject.
In future, i might just skip Season 3...i cant keep cringing each time i watch it. The face pulling will give me more wrinkles!
=P
I dont know what has gotten into me...albeit, i did have the flu during the long weekend...but the weekend earlier and the weekend that just past...im not sure how to explain it. I am naturally an early riser. I havent been sleeping in since the days of Uni and clubbing, which is a good 3-4 years ago. I havent slept over 8 hours for about a year.
I wonder what is going on with my mind and body???
It seems to be spazzing out on me.
Btw, I have found the real culprit for my wrinkle too! I was brushing my teeth on Saturday morning and realised that when get rid of the toothpaste in my mouth, my lips/mouth does a funny face and its this funny face that i pull which is the reason why i have that wrinkle.
And since wrinkles come from repetitive actions causing the elasticity to diminish under the skin...my wrinkle is also from the face pulling when i am putting lipbalm/lipstick on and putting cream on my face.
I cant help the face pulling. 25 years worth of doing these innocent tweaks to the face is very hard to undo. So, i have to just live with it...and try my best to be "graceful".
The "Illicit Affair" mentioned in the title, isnt quite illicit. I just like over-dramatising things for the sake of it.
My Will isnt gay. Although, i like to pretend he is. He is in fact a guy i had dated 4 years back. We got along fine then, but i didnt love him. And so i broke it off. We have always shared mutual interests in art, film, food, culture, books, music and travel.
It would be a dream come true for me if he was in fact gay. I mean, then he could be my date to things when i didnt have one. And it would be great for him if i was a lesbian. Sadly, we prefer the opposite of our sexes. And from previous experience, we know that we dont work as anything other than really good friends.
Friday night, i went and watched Bell Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" with My Will. Out of curiosity over dinner at Young Alfred, i asked whether his friends knew about us "hanging out" together, like we do? He said no - that it was a secret.
I'm not really surprised that it has been kept a secret. But at the same time, i wonder at how juvenile some guys can be? It wasnt an uber bad break up...it wasnt like we broke up because one of us had cheated. It was done as amicably as possible once it was realised that things werent working out. And he himself is over it...so, why would his friends be uncool about the fact that we hang out as plutonic friends? Why do guys care so much whether a mate was hanging with his ex (of yonks ago) or not? And is it really about his mates or is it really about his own fears - if his mates found out?
I just ignored the whole "oooh...were seeing eachother in secret" because my friends know that im hanging out with him. And my friends are cool with it, because its my life and my choices. Were not doing anything wrong. Were company for eachother to do the things that no one else but us enjoy doing. He is the friend i ask if i want to go and watch a foreign film. I'm the friend he asks to join him if there is an exhibition he knows no one else will want to go to. There is a mutual understanding and appreciation for all things cultural and visual/mentally stimulating.
It is a shame that it didnt work out previously, but i love the fact that we can be friends. And if our relationship - this hanging out with one another - must be kept a secret, then so it shall be.
Speaking of Illicit Affairs...I watched Season 3 of Sex and the City again. I know, i know...its an addiction now! But what i wanted to point out is that i cant sit and stomach the way Carrie cheats on Aidan Shaw with Mr Big (who is married at the time).
I frown on any form of cheating in relationships. I dont believe in lying. I dont believe in grass-cutting. I dont believe in affairs with married or attached men. It is wrong. WRONG! And I really hate Carrie for cheating on Aidan. Aidan was a lovely, good looking, talented, tender loving man. Honest and devoted...he was the rock for her to hold on to...their relationship was really good and then she f@#$ed it up by sleeping with Mr Big. Mr Big is married with Natasha at this point in time. Even though he says its not working...they shouldnt have had the affair. If it wasnt working, he should have just divorced Natasha. Not have the affair and then divorce. Carrie, being attached to Aidan and telling him that she loves him, goes and bonks Mr Big anyway...even though she knows it is wrong.
I cant tolerate people who lack will power. I know some are not as strong as I am. And I am not declaring that i have the strongest power of will either, I am human after all. But something like cheating with a married man, while you are attached to a loving boyfriend that you declare that you love - its a BIG no-no in my books! Its a cardinal sin that i dont believe that anyone should commit to the person they love, if they truly love them...
The only time where I would forgive a person for doing "the wrong" is when they didnt know that they were doing it. Specifically, i mean if a guy has lied to a girl or when asked if he was single, led the girl to believe that he was actually available when he was attached. Then i wouldnt blame the girl for not knowing the wiser. He lied to her. He lied to his current girlfriend/wife. But if you find that you have been misled, get out as quick as you can. Dont think that a cheater will change his ways for you. Salvage yourself and your dignity from that disaster. We all have standards, dont let your standards be so low.
* Vice versa too, if a girl had lied to a guy about her status...then the guy isnt in the wrong for being misled by the girl.
Thats my thoughts on the subject.
In future, i might just skip Season 3...i cant keep cringing each time i watch it. The face pulling will give me more wrinkles!
=P
Friday, June 16, 2006
Closet FOB-ia...
* I was writing this as part of an addition to my "Aging gracefully..." post, but it got too big, so I decided to separate the two.
FOB: A person who is Fresh Off the Boat.
Foblish: The English language as spoken by a FOB.
A ex-workmate use to sit right behind me, but facing the opposite direction. In our downtime, he use to hear my conversations on the phone with clients. After i got off the phone he told me that if he was on the phone with me, he would not have known if i was Anglo-Australian or Asian-Australian because i spoke English fluently, even better than he did, and he is Anglo-Australian.
The thing is, i didnt find it weird. I was born here. I learnt how to say "Dad" only seconds after learning how to say it in Chinese and Vietnamese. So, English isnt really a second language for me because i learnt it in parallel with Chinese and Vietnamese. Which I guess would explain why i speak Chinese and Vietnamese with an Aussie English accent. L cracks up every time i say something in Cantonese. She has a laughing fit, and she is on the floor rolling around (if the floor is clean).
I'm presenting this background because last night, while sitting on the train going home after having a really strong "Black Forest" inspired cocktail, a guy and a female friend came and sat behind me and of course started catching up over a long conversation. Since i finished reading Zorro, i didnt have anything to focus on. They were sitting directly behind me and were talking pretty audibly. So, of course i heard their conversation.
The guy is Cambodian. The girl is Vietnamese. He came to Australia when he was 5, i know this because the girl asked him. She, alternatively, came to Australia when she was 9. From the way they were talking, i figure that they are in their early 20's...only a year or 2, younger than i am - i'm guessing.
The guy has radical ideas about cooking. Well, not really radical...he just refuses to learn how to cook. Eats take out all the time. He figures if he doesnt learn now, he doesnt have to cook ever. His plan is to marry a woman and she can do all the cooking. He then tries to smooth things out and says that he will "help" his wife with the cleaning up. The girl clarifies and says "she'll do the cooking and you'll do all the cleaning after?" And he is like *hell no!* "i said i would 'help' clean up"...(to me that sounds like he would offer, but do jack all!)
He then asks the girl, if you had your own place, and all your own pretty plates, would you trust your husband to wash it up and do a dodgy job of it? The girl says to him "i'll teach him to wash up the way i want it washed!"
He then asks her if her friends are married. She tells him that almost all of them are. He asks when is it her turn? She tells him that ideal age would be 27 y/o but she isnt really keen and she gives herself until 30. He thinks thats old. She said that she is young and enjoys her freedom. He asks her "what freedom? Its not like you will be locked up by your husband!" She defends herself by telling him that she likes working overtime now, being single enables you to work longer hours = more money, etc. If you were married you would have all these other things that you would have to do...you wouldnt be able to work overtime. She didnt do the defending quite well...which made me want to turn around and ask the guy: what if she ended marrying a dumb sod like himself???
If she wanted to work some extra hours she wouldnt be able to because:
(1) She would have all this cooking and cleaning to do...who was going to get it done if she didnt do it all herself, a magic genie??? He sure wouldnt help!
(2) If they have kids? Hello? Bringing up kids is a full time job!!! Freedom to do anything selfish is out the door.
(3) When you get married, responsibility usually rests on the shoulder of the woman of the house. We let men think that they are "The Man"...but its really us woman who hold things together. And dealing with all of those things, is a full time job in itself!!!
And this is a short list.
And in my opinion, these things are in a way like shackles on a woman's ankle when it comes to freedom. You may not be locked up hidden at home, but all these things prevent you from doing what you would normally do if you were single...because you would be no longer thinking of just you...you would have to consider your husband and family.
The guy obviously wouldnt have understood this, not because of any language barrier, but because he doesnt get the concept of being selfless and the "u" + "me" = "we".
To top off this, they were both speaking in an almost broken English it left me baffled. He came to Australia when he was 5. You would think that he would have dropped any asian lilt (fobby accent) by the time he got to 2nd grade or somewhere along the way in primary school. She came when she was 9. So, its a bit harder to shake...but by mid way through high school (from the constant chatter behind me), you would gather that the fobbyness would have disappeared. But no...they were speaking with very fobby accents.
It made me feel weird. I havent heard FOB-lish from anyone younger than me in a very long time. I personally think its inexcusable too. If you went to school here from primary level and even finished tertiary education, then you should be able to speak fluent english, without the asian lilt. I mean, you're probably going to get stuck with one or two pronounciations that you just cant shake, that gets served with some asianess, but from the way they were talking i was astonished that i could even follow their conversation.
It made me wonder if i was a closet FOB? I understand it. I comprehend clearly. I just dont speak it.
I had been like that with Vietnamese for a very long time. When i was a toddler i would speak all languages i had been taught. When i started to go to school, i kept the Chinese up, but dropped the Vietnamese. I still understood it, i just chose not to speak it. And when i was in highschool and went back to Vietnam to visit relatives, i realised that i couldnt really speak it. It was broken up, infused with Chinese and English.
After a week of being immersed in the culture and language, speaking the native tongue became easier. I'm still not fluent, because i choose to speak mostly Chinese with my parents. But i do speak it when necessary.
If (when necessary) for instance, i was speaking to a person with an asian lilt would i in turn speak foblish?
Some people when in Europe, say they are in France. When they speak to the natives, they speak with a superimposed faux-French accent...especially when the dont speak French.
Would i be the same?
FOB: A person who is Fresh Off the Boat.
Foblish: The English language as spoken by a FOB.
A ex-workmate use to sit right behind me, but facing the opposite direction. In our downtime, he use to hear my conversations on the phone with clients. After i got off the phone he told me that if he was on the phone with me, he would not have known if i was Anglo-Australian or Asian-Australian because i spoke English fluently, even better than he did, and he is Anglo-Australian.
The thing is, i didnt find it weird. I was born here. I learnt how to say "Dad" only seconds after learning how to say it in Chinese and Vietnamese. So, English isnt really a second language for me because i learnt it in parallel with Chinese and Vietnamese. Which I guess would explain why i speak Chinese and Vietnamese with an Aussie English accent. L cracks up every time i say something in Cantonese. She has a laughing fit, and she is on the floor rolling around (if the floor is clean).
I'm presenting this background because last night, while sitting on the train going home after having a really strong "Black Forest" inspired cocktail, a guy and a female friend came and sat behind me and of course started catching up over a long conversation. Since i finished reading Zorro, i didnt have anything to focus on. They were sitting directly behind me and were talking pretty audibly. So, of course i heard their conversation.
The guy is Cambodian. The girl is Vietnamese. He came to Australia when he was 5, i know this because the girl asked him. She, alternatively, came to Australia when she was 9. From the way they were talking, i figure that they are in their early 20's...only a year or 2, younger than i am - i'm guessing.
The guy has radical ideas about cooking. Well, not really radical...he just refuses to learn how to cook. Eats take out all the time. He figures if he doesnt learn now, he doesnt have to cook ever. His plan is to marry a woman and she can do all the cooking. He then tries to smooth things out and says that he will "help" his wife with the cleaning up. The girl clarifies and says "she'll do the cooking and you'll do all the cleaning after?" And he is like *hell no!* "i said i would 'help' clean up"...(to me that sounds like he would offer, but do jack all!)
He then asks the girl, if you had your own place, and all your own pretty plates, would you trust your husband to wash it up and do a dodgy job of it? The girl says to him "i'll teach him to wash up the way i want it washed!"
He then asks her if her friends are married. She tells him that almost all of them are. He asks when is it her turn? She tells him that ideal age would be 27 y/o but she isnt really keen and she gives herself until 30. He thinks thats old. She said that she is young and enjoys her freedom. He asks her "what freedom? Its not like you will be locked up by your husband!" She defends herself by telling him that she likes working overtime now, being single enables you to work longer hours = more money, etc. If you were married you would have all these other things that you would have to do...you wouldnt be able to work overtime. She didnt do the defending quite well...which made me want to turn around and ask the guy: what if she ended marrying a dumb sod like himself???
If she wanted to work some extra hours she wouldnt be able to because:
(1) She would have all this cooking and cleaning to do...who was going to get it done if she didnt do it all herself, a magic genie??? He sure wouldnt help!
(2) If they have kids? Hello? Bringing up kids is a full time job!!! Freedom to do anything selfish is out the door.
(3) When you get married, responsibility usually rests on the shoulder of the woman of the house. We let men think that they are "The Man"...but its really us woman who hold things together. And dealing with all of those things, is a full time job in itself!!!
And this is a short list.
And in my opinion, these things are in a way like shackles on a woman's ankle when it comes to freedom. You may not be locked up hidden at home, but all these things prevent you from doing what you would normally do if you were single...because you would be no longer thinking of just you...you would have to consider your husband and family.
The guy obviously wouldnt have understood this, not because of any language barrier, but because he doesnt get the concept of being selfless and the "u" + "me" = "we".
To top off this, they were both speaking in an almost broken English it left me baffled. He came to Australia when he was 5. You would think that he would have dropped any asian lilt (fobby accent) by the time he got to 2nd grade or somewhere along the way in primary school. She came when she was 9. So, its a bit harder to shake...but by mid way through high school (from the constant chatter behind me), you would gather that the fobbyness would have disappeared. But no...they were speaking with very fobby accents.
It made me feel weird. I havent heard FOB-lish from anyone younger than me in a very long time. I personally think its inexcusable too. If you went to school here from primary level and even finished tertiary education, then you should be able to speak fluent english, without the asian lilt. I mean, you're probably going to get stuck with one or two pronounciations that you just cant shake, that gets served with some asianess, but from the way they were talking i was astonished that i could even follow their conversation.
It made me wonder if i was a closet FOB? I understand it. I comprehend clearly. I just dont speak it.
I had been like that with Vietnamese for a very long time. When i was a toddler i would speak all languages i had been taught. When i started to go to school, i kept the Chinese up, but dropped the Vietnamese. I still understood it, i just chose not to speak it. And when i was in highschool and went back to Vietnam to visit relatives, i realised that i couldnt really speak it. It was broken up, infused with Chinese and English.
After a week of being immersed in the culture and language, speaking the native tongue became easier. I'm still not fluent, because i choose to speak mostly Chinese with my parents. But i do speak it when necessary.
If (when necessary) for instance, i was speaking to a person with an asian lilt would i in turn speak foblish?
Some people when in Europe, say they are in France. When they speak to the natives, they speak with a superimposed faux-French accent...especially when the dont speak French.
Would i be the same?
Aging gracefully...
So, we all now know that i have found a wrinkle on my 25 y/o face.
The thing is, i feel like a 20 y/o. So, i dont want my face to reveal the fact that im older! I mean, with the whole alice band coming back in fashion, once i pop it on the crown of my head i can actually pass as a Uni student...until you see the wrinkle, that is!!!
V's friend last night mentioned "aging gracefully"...I believed that after 30, when gravity really hits a woman's skin and drags it to the ground, that i would take it in stride and live with it gracefully. (Thats one of the reasons why i had planned to die by the time i turned 30! Ha, take that Gravity!!!)
But since im only 25...i feel like my skin has let me down. I mean, I've been going to the gym for years...enhancing blood circulation to the skin...i'm an avid yoga poser...once again enhancing blood circulation...i drink heaps of water!!! Both my parents have good skin. They both look younger than they really are. People mistake my mother for being a 35-40 y/o woman, when in fact she is over 50. So, genetically, you would think i had it in the bag when it comes to possessing youthful looking, non-wrinkled-looking-like-a-road-map skin!
You. Would. Think.
SO, WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG WITH ME AT 25???
Okay, I think i have said enough.
No. I havent.
I did a quick google search and i realise that there are simple things that i can do now to prevent other road markings from appearing on my face later. A simple change in diet (reduce sugar intake and cut out alcohol!!! So, i guess the cocktail last night didnt help...) and i must stop pulling faces!!! I should also change to a higher SPF strength of sunscreen too.
I told one of the PM's i've been working for that it was all his fault, that i've started to get wrinkles. He asked me how? I told him it was the stress from working on his projects/programme. In particular, that one client! I figured if L could blame that same client for her alcoholism and her eye/face twitches...i am entitled to blaming the stress i feel on them too. I've started drinking more (but not as much as she does), but i would rather eye/face twitches which goes away when the stress goes away - than the wrinkle that i now have which is permanent!!! (Unless i get cosmetic surgery done...but i wont, as i cant afford it!)
His response to my moment of temporary insanity was that i should stop stressing and stop fixating on that wrinkle - and then it will magically go away!
*...cricket noises against a silent background and me thinking "right!"...*
MEN! THEY JUST DONT GET IT!!!
Then he told me to get back to work and produce the reports he needs for tomorrow.
*hmph*
Luckily, we are more like friends than manager and employee. But he must think im nuts and wonders if he will regret one day (20-something years down the track) that his wife had given birth to a beautiful baby girl (6 months ago).
I never thought i would react this way. But then, i never thought i would find wrinkles at 25.
=P
The thing is, i feel like a 20 y/o. So, i dont want my face to reveal the fact that im older! I mean, with the whole alice band coming back in fashion, once i pop it on the crown of my head i can actually pass as a Uni student...until you see the wrinkle, that is!!!
V's friend last night mentioned "aging gracefully"...I believed that after 30, when gravity really hits a woman's skin and drags it to the ground, that i would take it in stride and live with it gracefully. (Thats one of the reasons why i had planned to die by the time i turned 30! Ha, take that Gravity!!!)
But since im only 25...i feel like my skin has let me down. I mean, I've been going to the gym for years...enhancing blood circulation to the skin...i'm an avid yoga poser...once again enhancing blood circulation...i drink heaps of water!!! Both my parents have good skin. They both look younger than they really are. People mistake my mother for being a 35-40 y/o woman, when in fact she is over 50. So, genetically, you would think i had it in the bag when it comes to possessing youthful looking, non-wrinkled-looking-like-a-road-map skin!
You. Would. Think.
SO, WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG WITH ME AT 25???
Okay, I think i have said enough.
No. I havent.
I did a quick google search and i realise that there are simple things that i can do now to prevent other road markings from appearing on my face later. A simple change in diet (reduce sugar intake and cut out alcohol!!! So, i guess the cocktail last night didnt help...) and i must stop pulling faces!!! I should also change to a higher SPF strength of sunscreen too.
I told one of the PM's i've been working for that it was all his fault, that i've started to get wrinkles. He asked me how? I told him it was the stress from working on his projects/programme. In particular, that one client! I figured if L could blame that same client for her alcoholism and her eye/face twitches...i am entitled to blaming the stress i feel on them too. I've started drinking more (but not as much as she does), but i would rather eye/face twitches which goes away when the stress goes away - than the wrinkle that i now have which is permanent!!! (Unless i get cosmetic surgery done...but i wont, as i cant afford it!)
His response to my moment of temporary insanity was that i should stop stressing and stop fixating on that wrinkle - and then it will magically go away!
*...cricket noises against a silent background and me thinking "right!"...*
MEN! THEY JUST DONT GET IT!!!
Then he told me to get back to work and produce the reports he needs for tomorrow.
*hmph*
Luckily, we are more like friends than manager and employee. But he must think im nuts and wonders if he will regret one day (20-something years down the track) that his wife had given birth to a beautiful baby girl (6 months ago).
I never thought i would react this way. But then, i never thought i would find wrinkles at 25.
=P
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Continued...
If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were.
-Richard Bach
I told my Will (as in my version of Will from Will and Grace) about my epiphany over the long weekend…about how he had set me free. And as my Will was listening intently, his brain was working over time. At the end of it he asked “okay, so what about the rest of the quote?”
I was baffled. What “rest of the quote”??? There is no quote.
Wait…there is, I just can’t remember what the quote was. And then my Will recites it to me.
“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.”
And so, he pursued – “So, what happens if he asks you back?”
Still a little baffled, since I wasn’t thinking about getting back with him…but if I was taking the quote for what it was worth…then doesn’t that mean that if he asked me back, then we were meant to be?!
“Doesn’t it???” I asked my Will.
“I don’t know…” he tells me.
Well what good are you?! What good, eh?
=P
***
Should I be worried that my cousin (21 y/o) has tried to console me by indicating that women in their 40’s are getting married today??? So, I really shouldn’t lose hope, because I still have a chance of marrying someone EVEN when I turn 40.
No, I don’t take any solace from such a notion.
I’m not rejecting the idea of meeting someone in my 40’s. That’s a great hope, that you can meet someone special even at a later stage in your life.
What I don’t like is the whole “marrying” and more so the “wedding” after 40.
I personally think its ridiculous when a 40-something woman decides to get married and wants to throw a princess wedding she never had when she was in her 20’s, tiara and all, just because she can with her new found love who happens to be a divorcee with 3 teenage kids.
I cringe every time I hear the women in the office who are planning their wedding, who happen to be in their 40’s, talking about the tiara they just bought to go with their big gown and shoes.
They are entitled to do their wedding the way they want to. But that doesn’t stop me from cringing.
If I was 40-ish and getting married for the first time, I’m not going to push things by wearing a white strapless ball gown that needs a big hoop. I’d feel like a silly fool trying to recapture my youth on a day that should be celebrated with style, not with cheap chic. I’d do it without the white and without the tiara, if I was to celebrate it at all.
I would most certainly not have a BIG lavish to do with over 200 guests…unless I was an heiress with the money to splurge, then things would be different. Because I would also have the money to do plastic and look younger than I really am…so I could get away with a big wedding at 40…cos I would look like I was 30.
Although, im 25 now. And I just found my first wrinkle – that’s not a laugh line!
So, you could say all this angst is from my newest discovery…
And after talking to my cousin, I have decided that if I was fortunate to find anyone by the time I was 40 and he asked me to marry him, I’d probably just go and get the papers signed. And if I was to celebrate in any way, I would only invite the people most dear to me in the whole wide world. My mum, dad, brothers, their wives and kids, my best friends and that’s it.
I will not wear white when I’m 40.
It will be simple yet stylish.
It will be very Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.
***
Isabel Allende is a really brilliant storyteller.
I have read Daughter of Fortune, Portrait in Sepia, City of the Beasts, Kindgom of the Golden Dragon, Forest of the Pygmies, and recently Zorro - the novel.
What i like about her style is that she tells the story like you are sitting cross legged on the floor in front of an open fire listening to a really marvelous storyteller reveal the greatest legend to be told. Its filled with so many layers and everything is described so that you can almost reach out and touch it. When i open her book, i know that i wont be disappointed. I know that it will be engaging, that i will be captivated, and that i will finish the book sooner rather than later.
As you may have noticed, i have this lack of tolerance for things that take too long to reach fruition.
I no longer wait for books to develop, if after reading the first few chapters, and the book has failed to grab my attention - i drop it like a dead weight. So, thankfully, i can rely on the storytelling prowess of Isabel Allende to keep me captivated. She has written plenty of books that i have yet to read...its just a matter of time.
If you are interested in the legend of Zorro, the years of when he was a babe to a young man, the story of how he became a member of La Justicia, how he became Zorro and the defender of justice - then read her version. Its rich with action and excitement, it is so much fun!
-Richard Bach
I told my Will (as in my version of Will from Will and Grace) about my epiphany over the long weekend…about how he had set me free. And as my Will was listening intently, his brain was working over time. At the end of it he asked “okay, so what about the rest of the quote?”
I was baffled. What “rest of the quote”??? There is no quote.
Wait…there is, I just can’t remember what the quote was. And then my Will recites it to me.
“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.”
And so, he pursued – “So, what happens if he asks you back?”
Still a little baffled, since I wasn’t thinking about getting back with him…but if I was taking the quote for what it was worth…then doesn’t that mean that if he asked me back, then we were meant to be?!
“Doesn’t it???” I asked my Will.
“I don’t know…” he tells me.
Well what good are you?! What good, eh?
=P
Should I be worried that my cousin (21 y/o) has tried to console me by indicating that women in their 40’s are getting married today??? So, I really shouldn’t lose hope, because I still have a chance of marrying someone EVEN when I turn 40.
No, I don’t take any solace from such a notion.
I’m not rejecting the idea of meeting someone in my 40’s. That’s a great hope, that you can meet someone special even at a later stage in your life.
What I don’t like is the whole “marrying” and more so the “wedding” after 40.
I personally think its ridiculous when a 40-something woman decides to get married and wants to throw a princess wedding she never had when she was in her 20’s, tiara and all, just because she can with her new found love who happens to be a divorcee with 3 teenage kids.
I cringe every time I hear the women in the office who are planning their wedding, who happen to be in their 40’s, talking about the tiara they just bought to go with their big gown and shoes.
They are entitled to do their wedding the way they want to. But that doesn’t stop me from cringing.
If I was 40-ish and getting married for the first time, I’m not going to push things by wearing a white strapless ball gown that needs a big hoop. I’d feel like a silly fool trying to recapture my youth on a day that should be celebrated with style, not with cheap chic. I’d do it without the white and without the tiara, if I was to celebrate it at all.
I would most certainly not have a BIG lavish to do with over 200 guests…unless I was an heiress with the money to splurge, then things would be different. Because I would also have the money to do plastic and look younger than I really am…so I could get away with a big wedding at 40…cos I would look like I was 30.
Although, im 25 now. And I just found my first wrinkle – that’s not a laugh line!
So, you could say all this angst is from my newest discovery…
And after talking to my cousin, I have decided that if I was fortunate to find anyone by the time I was 40 and he asked me to marry him, I’d probably just go and get the papers signed. And if I was to celebrate in any way, I would only invite the people most dear to me in the whole wide world. My mum, dad, brothers, their wives and kids, my best friends and that’s it.
I will not wear white when I’m 40.
It will be simple yet stylish.
It will be very Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.
Isabel Allende is a really brilliant storyteller.
I have read Daughter of Fortune, Portrait in Sepia, City of the Beasts, Kindgom of the Golden Dragon, Forest of the Pygmies, and recently Zorro - the novel.
What i like about her style is that she tells the story like you are sitting cross legged on the floor in front of an open fire listening to a really marvelous storyteller reveal the greatest legend to be told. Its filled with so many layers and everything is described so that you can almost reach out and touch it. When i open her book, i know that i wont be disappointed. I know that it will be engaging, that i will be captivated, and that i will finish the book sooner rather than later.
As you may have noticed, i have this lack of tolerance for things that take too long to reach fruition.
I no longer wait for books to develop, if after reading the first few chapters, and the book has failed to grab my attention - i drop it like a dead weight. So, thankfully, i can rely on the storytelling prowess of Isabel Allende to keep me captivated. She has written plenty of books that i have yet to read...its just a matter of time.
If you are interested in the legend of Zorro, the years of when he was a babe to a young man, the story of how he became a member of La Justicia, how he became Zorro and the defender of justice - then read her version. Its rich with action and excitement, it is so much fun!
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
My loooong weekend...
I took a day off on Thursday, because my eyes were red and tired, the back of both my knees were hurting and my right arm with its numbness was still there - making me fear for the worse.
So, i visited my doctor.
While waiting for about 20 minutes in the waiting room...i finally got to see my doctor and he gave me a prescription for some eye drops, told me to stretch my hamstrings, and told me that i had a pinched nerve but it was minor, yet he gave me a script in case my arms became worse and therefore i would need to get an x-ray.
It seems i also picked up a viral infection while in the waiting room of my doctor's surgery. Because on Friday i left work early on the account of my throat was aching and my body was hurting all over.
I stayed home on Saturday, Sunday, and come Monday i was relieved that it was a public holiday because it was on Monday that my viral infection was really heavy. You know how your nose can be congested at the same time as it is running? Well, i had that. I was lucky, i wasnt coughing, i didnt have a huge headache, it was just the simultaneous nasal congestion combined with the running nose.
I woke up on Tuesday unable to breathe but quickly reached for my box of tissues because my nose was running...i thought about going in to work, and then i thought i would be shitted if a person came to work and they had tissue stuffed up their nose cos it wouldnt stop running...and i decided that i would stay at home, because i didnt want to be the person that everyone hates for spreading their germs! And i didnt want to be grabbing for a tissue every 20 seconds to wipe my bloody nose. I wouldnt get any work done.
With my stuffed up nasal voice, i called all my managers and each one must have been relieved that i wasnt around to spread what i had to them.
I spent my long weekend watching DVDs.
I started to watch Samurai Champloo...but after the 2nd episode i was falling asleep...so i went to bed to actually fall asleep, but when i got to bed, i couldnt sleep, so i just laid their listening to my nano. When i finally got up i thought i would watch Sex and the City again. It makes me laugh and cry and feel so many emotions...I had finished the whole series on Thursday...so i started from Season 1 again.
The next day i tried to watch movies...but there was nothing that interested me. So, it was back to the series.
I'm a glutton for punishment.
But this time, i picked up new things that i didnt the first time around.
In my overdrugged state, i had moments where i was lucid and lightbulbs had gone off in my head.
I may dress in a monochromatic fashion, but i would love to wear a technicolour dream coat.
I will never be a plain jane, for crying out loud, i love art! Not because it is pretty to look at. I love art because of the way it makes me feel. I love watching artists create their work. I love the smearing of paint to form a vision to behold. I appreciate with gratitude that someone has put their time and effort into creating something that is so expressive, that it communicates on so many levels...
I am weird. I am a geek. I am artsy. I am a conservative waiting to break free.
I might have straight black hair and simple brown eyes, but i love my rose tinted sunglasses and what they do for me when i look at my monochromatic world on the weekends through those lenses.
I understand now, that i may appear very simple and easy to understand, but i am complex. He probably tried to work with it. But im a force that he just couldnt contain. He couldnt change me. And it grieved him as much as me that he failed on his mission to do so. I think he realised this. Its funny to me now, because I have always said to him that if you truly love someone, you would set them free.
And he did it.
He loved me enough to set me free.
I am wild and passionate about many things and i am constantly looking for adventure and excitement. He knew he couldnt keep me. I am not ready to be tamed.
We break up and the first thing i do is plan my Europe Trip of a lifetime. I set out to do things with my independent self. Partly so that i could forget about him, but mostly because they are things that i have yet to fulfil and have always wanted to do.
His decision must have been based on a forked road. And he chose the road less travelled. In some ways, i owe him many thanks.
So, i visited my doctor.
While waiting for about 20 minutes in the waiting room...i finally got to see my doctor and he gave me a prescription for some eye drops, told me to stretch my hamstrings, and told me that i had a pinched nerve but it was minor, yet he gave me a script in case my arms became worse and therefore i would need to get an x-ray.
It seems i also picked up a viral infection while in the waiting room of my doctor's surgery. Because on Friday i left work early on the account of my throat was aching and my body was hurting all over.
I stayed home on Saturday, Sunday, and come Monday i was relieved that it was a public holiday because it was on Monday that my viral infection was really heavy. You know how your nose can be congested at the same time as it is running? Well, i had that. I was lucky, i wasnt coughing, i didnt have a huge headache, it was just the simultaneous nasal congestion combined with the running nose.
I woke up on Tuesday unable to breathe but quickly reached for my box of tissues because my nose was running...i thought about going in to work, and then i thought i would be shitted if a person came to work and they had tissue stuffed up their nose cos it wouldnt stop running...and i decided that i would stay at home, because i didnt want to be the person that everyone hates for spreading their germs! And i didnt want to be grabbing for a tissue every 20 seconds to wipe my bloody nose. I wouldnt get any work done.
With my stuffed up nasal voice, i called all my managers and each one must have been relieved that i wasnt around to spread what i had to them.
I spent my long weekend watching DVDs.
I started to watch Samurai Champloo...but after the 2nd episode i was falling asleep...so i went to bed to actually fall asleep, but when i got to bed, i couldnt sleep, so i just laid their listening to my nano. When i finally got up i thought i would watch Sex and the City again. It makes me laugh and cry and feel so many emotions...I had finished the whole series on Thursday...so i started from Season 1 again.
The next day i tried to watch movies...but there was nothing that interested me. So, it was back to the series.
I'm a glutton for punishment.
But this time, i picked up new things that i didnt the first time around.
In my overdrugged state, i had moments where i was lucid and lightbulbs had gone off in my head.
I may dress in a monochromatic fashion, but i would love to wear a technicolour dream coat.
I will never be a plain jane, for crying out loud, i love art! Not because it is pretty to look at. I love art because of the way it makes me feel. I love watching artists create their work. I love the smearing of paint to form a vision to behold. I appreciate with gratitude that someone has put their time and effort into creating something that is so expressive, that it communicates on so many levels...
I am weird. I am a geek. I am artsy. I am a conservative waiting to break free.
I might have straight black hair and simple brown eyes, but i love my rose tinted sunglasses and what they do for me when i look at my monochromatic world on the weekends through those lenses.
I understand now, that i may appear very simple and easy to understand, but i am complex. He probably tried to work with it. But im a force that he just couldnt contain. He couldnt change me. And it grieved him as much as me that he failed on his mission to do so. I think he realised this. Its funny to me now, because I have always said to him that if you truly love someone, you would set them free.
And he did it.
He loved me enough to set me free.
I am wild and passionate about many things and i am constantly looking for adventure and excitement. He knew he couldnt keep me. I am not ready to be tamed.
We break up and the first thing i do is plan my Europe Trip of a lifetime. I set out to do things with my independent self. Partly so that i could forget about him, but mostly because they are things that i have yet to fulfil and have always wanted to do.
His decision must have been based on a forked road. And he chose the road less travelled. In some ways, i owe him many thanks.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Life – The real Endurance Test.
The final day for entry into the Endurance Test at the gym has come and gone. I won the competition with only one entry. I didn’t bother with entering other times, since the gap between first place and second place was a difference of 8 minutes. There was no real competition for me.
I claimed my prize last night.
The end result of training for the Endurance Test? My butt is toner, but there is still a lot of fat to lose. That’s the physical results.
The mental results…? Well, other than the fact that I recognise that no matter what challenge I take on, I know my body can do “that” little bit more. My brain knows that the pain barrier is just a barrier, and once we get past that, it won’t hurt anymore.
On a philosophical level…it has gotten me thinking that life is like the epitome of all Endurance Tests you could ever experience. And I wonder how long this pain barrier will last before I can ride things out smoothly? There is supposed to be a point where you realised that the barrier has been surpassed and is left behind you. I haven’t come to that point as yet.
Life is to be enjoyed and you also have tests along the way, so that you fully appreciate and enjoy your life. I’m not really enjoying much these days. My knee is starting to ache again, right under the knee cap…so I’m taking glucosamine tablets again. My right arm feels numb, I’m worried that I might have a blood clot in there somewhere…or maybe I’m about to have a heart attack, but I shouldn’t have a clot. I exercise far too much for my blood not to be flowing smoothly. So, whats the go?
Last year, I broke my left ankle. That was a trial in itself, because while in the cast I had a blood clot in the leg. Then came the warfarin treatment for 3 months. Then the physio for about 2 months…I am still trying to get the balance back in my left ankle and it annoys me that it has been almost a year to date, and I’m still not back to my old self.
The hard part of all this was the whole healing process. It was long and arduous. Technically, I am still healing. I go to my Body Balance classes twice a week in hopes that the more one legged balancing acts I do, the more balance and strength will be restored to my ankle. Its obviously an ongoing process.
I don’t know if I can manage if the doctor finds another blood clot in my body. If it is in fact in my arm, its actually more fatal than when it was in my thigh. (Any clot above your knee is potentially fatal, as its free to move upstream to your heart and cause a heart attack, or clog your lungs and you could die from a pulmonary embolism). My arm is of course, much closer to my heart than my thigh is.
A person can only endure so much. I, can only surpass a number of barriers in my life time. I cant keep on overcoming every obstacle that comes my way. Its not that I wont try. I have to try. I will try. But that doesn’t mean that I will succeed with every challenge that gets put in my path. I’m not perfect, so its not going to be a perfectly smooth trip. Will I know that this is the One? The One that I wont succeed in overcoming?
I’m tired. This test is one that I didn’t ever realise existed until now. Ignorance is truly bliss, isn’t it?
So, what did I actually win as a prize for the Endurance Test at the gym? A Hoyts movie pass, a free entry to the gym for a family or friend, a fluoro green t-shirt and a fluoro green cap.
I wonder what the prize would be for succeeding Life’s Endurance Test. Eternal happiness, perhaps.
I claimed my prize last night.
The end result of training for the Endurance Test? My butt is toner, but there is still a lot of fat to lose. That’s the physical results.
The mental results…? Well, other than the fact that I recognise that no matter what challenge I take on, I know my body can do “that” little bit more. My brain knows that the pain barrier is just a barrier, and once we get past that, it won’t hurt anymore.
On a philosophical level…it has gotten me thinking that life is like the epitome of all Endurance Tests you could ever experience. And I wonder how long this pain barrier will last before I can ride things out smoothly? There is supposed to be a point where you realised that the barrier has been surpassed and is left behind you. I haven’t come to that point as yet.
Life is to be enjoyed and you also have tests along the way, so that you fully appreciate and enjoy your life. I’m not really enjoying much these days. My knee is starting to ache again, right under the knee cap…so I’m taking glucosamine tablets again. My right arm feels numb, I’m worried that I might have a blood clot in there somewhere…or maybe I’m about to have a heart attack, but I shouldn’t have a clot. I exercise far too much for my blood not to be flowing smoothly. So, whats the go?
Last year, I broke my left ankle. That was a trial in itself, because while in the cast I had a blood clot in the leg. Then came the warfarin treatment for 3 months. Then the physio for about 2 months…I am still trying to get the balance back in my left ankle and it annoys me that it has been almost a year to date, and I’m still not back to my old self.
The hard part of all this was the whole healing process. It was long and arduous. Technically, I am still healing. I go to my Body Balance classes twice a week in hopes that the more one legged balancing acts I do, the more balance and strength will be restored to my ankle. Its obviously an ongoing process.
I don’t know if I can manage if the doctor finds another blood clot in my body. If it is in fact in my arm, its actually more fatal than when it was in my thigh. (Any clot above your knee is potentially fatal, as its free to move upstream to your heart and cause a heart attack, or clog your lungs and you could die from a pulmonary embolism). My arm is of course, much closer to my heart than my thigh is.
A person can only endure so much. I, can only surpass a number of barriers in my life time. I cant keep on overcoming every obstacle that comes my way. Its not that I wont try. I have to try. I will try. But that doesn’t mean that I will succeed with every challenge that gets put in my path. I’m not perfect, so its not going to be a perfectly smooth trip. Will I know that this is the One? The One that I wont succeed in overcoming?
I’m tired. This test is one that I didn’t ever realise existed until now. Ignorance is truly bliss, isn’t it?
So, what did I actually win as a prize for the Endurance Test at the gym? A Hoyts movie pass, a free entry to the gym for a family or friend, a fluoro green t-shirt and a fluoro green cap.
I wonder what the prize would be for succeeding Life’s Endurance Test. Eternal happiness, perhaps.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Am i a snob?
Yes, i think it is possible that a snob lies within me.
I always thought i was open minded. I essentially talk to anyone. I try to be civil even with the Mormons who harass me on the street...actually the one time i was getting "harassed" the Mormon was asking me for my number. It was weird and i thought it was wrong, so i ran away saying: "Sorry, I can't talk now. I'm late for my train!"
But of late, like with people at work, i actually try to avoid conversations with people i have little patience for.
Allow me to elaborate...
The client has a shuttle bus between the offices and Central Station (and airport when necessary). I use to catch an STA bus to get to Glebe, but that was stupid since the client shuttle bus that leaves Central actually leaves when i catch the STA bus. So, i decided to catch the shuttle bus cos it drops you right at the door, versus having to walk 100m. Its like a limo, but its a free shuttle bus. Which also saves me money for my Europe trip next year. (Every cent counts!!!)
There are the usual people who catch this bus, they all start early and they all seem to know each other. I know a couple as they work on my project and one lady is the one who issues Security Passes...she's the person i get my multiple security cards for all the offices i need get in to. So, she's one of the few people i dont work with, that i know well.
I use to think that it would be best to say "Good Morning" to everyone when we would stand on the side waiting for our shuttle. Which is fine, and i do. But of late, there is this girl that works in a different team to me, who has started to try to have conversations with me. She also tends to add her "2 cents" to conversations that i have with other people while we wait for the bus...and lately she has been doing this while im in the kitchen talking to other people...or when im in the ladies washing my hands talking to another girl.
I dont know what is it with her, but she annoys me. On the shuttle bus, she talks loudly to her neighbour...once on the shuttle, i happened to sit in front of her and when she got off, she knocked my head with her backpack! Her apology was along the lines of "Sorry, i didnt mean to hit you across the head, it was my bag...But i always do that to the person who sits in front of me. I guess its your unlucky day! Sorry about it. Maybe you should avoid sitting in front of me next time...hehehehe..."
Maybe she shouldnt rush out of the bus like she always does? Maybe she should avoid putting her bag on her back until she gets off the bus? It is only a 14 seater mini bus. There isnt that much room for movement. Does she see anyone else whacking other people on the head with their backpacks? I carry a handbag, do you see me swinging it across over my arm and whack someone in the face with it? NO!
I wait until i get off the bus and adjust my jacket and scarf and then put my bag on my shoulder. I dont do it while im on the bus and people are trying to get off it. And i dont think its excusable that you do it so often that people know that they shouldnt sit in front of you. How rude!
I dont tolerate people with inexcusable and/or lax of manners.
She talks loudly and butts into conversations. She tends to offer opinions in a juvenile fashion and admittedly, i just assumed that she was young and forgave her bad behaviour...but i later found out from her loud talking that she is my age. And i think that was when i stopped tolerating her.
I also think it was at this point something in my head snapped and started snobbing her.
I dont want to get into a conversation with her, because then i would feel like running my nails against the chalkboard making my own ears bleed. Thats how strongly i feel about it.
Everything was fine until one day she started to think that she was more than a working acquaintance. I mean, frankly, i dont even know her name, so technically she isnt even an acquaintance. I dont think she knows mine. It was like out of the blue she decided that we would be friends for life...it made me feel as though she wanted something from me, but since she hasnt asked me for anything yet, i can only assume that i have overreacted and she doesnt really want anything from me (the skeptic in me is still insisting that she will ask for it later!)
But what do i do?
Do i let the inner snob in me continue to snob her? Or do i try to maintain civility, but run the risk of encouraging her when i dont want to encourage her???
I always thought i was open minded. I essentially talk to anyone. I try to be civil even with the Mormons who harass me on the street...actually the one time i was getting "harassed" the Mormon was asking me for my number. It was weird and i thought it was wrong, so i ran away saying: "Sorry, I can't talk now. I'm late for my train!"
But of late, like with people at work, i actually try to avoid conversations with people i have little patience for.
Allow me to elaborate...
The client has a shuttle bus between the offices and Central Station (and airport when necessary). I use to catch an STA bus to get to Glebe, but that was stupid since the client shuttle bus that leaves Central actually leaves when i catch the STA bus. So, i decided to catch the shuttle bus cos it drops you right at the door, versus having to walk 100m. Its like a limo, but its a free shuttle bus. Which also saves me money for my Europe trip next year. (Every cent counts!!!)
There are the usual people who catch this bus, they all start early and they all seem to know each other. I know a couple as they work on my project and one lady is the one who issues Security Passes...she's the person i get my multiple security cards for all the offices i need get in to. So, she's one of the few people i dont work with, that i know well.
I use to think that it would be best to say "Good Morning" to everyone when we would stand on the side waiting for our shuttle. Which is fine, and i do. But of late, there is this girl that works in a different team to me, who has started to try to have conversations with me. She also tends to add her "2 cents" to conversations that i have with other people while we wait for the bus...and lately she has been doing this while im in the kitchen talking to other people...or when im in the ladies washing my hands talking to another girl.
I dont know what is it with her, but she annoys me. On the shuttle bus, she talks loudly to her neighbour...once on the shuttle, i happened to sit in front of her and when she got off, she knocked my head with her backpack! Her apology was along the lines of "Sorry, i didnt mean to hit you across the head, it was my bag...But i always do that to the person who sits in front of me. I guess its your unlucky day! Sorry about it. Maybe you should avoid sitting in front of me next time...hehehehe..."
Maybe she shouldnt rush out of the bus like she always does? Maybe she should avoid putting her bag on her back until she gets off the bus? It is only a 14 seater mini bus. There isnt that much room for movement. Does she see anyone else whacking other people on the head with their backpacks? I carry a handbag, do you see me swinging it across over my arm and whack someone in the face with it? NO!
I wait until i get off the bus and adjust my jacket and scarf and then put my bag on my shoulder. I dont do it while im on the bus and people are trying to get off it. And i dont think its excusable that you do it so often that people know that they shouldnt sit in front of you. How rude!
I dont tolerate people with inexcusable and/or lax of manners.
She talks loudly and butts into conversations. She tends to offer opinions in a juvenile fashion and admittedly, i just assumed that she was young and forgave her bad behaviour...but i later found out from her loud talking that she is my age. And i think that was when i stopped tolerating her.
I also think it was at this point something in my head snapped and started snobbing her.
I dont want to get into a conversation with her, because then i would feel like running my nails against the chalkboard making my own ears bleed. Thats how strongly i feel about it.
Everything was fine until one day she started to think that she was more than a working acquaintance. I mean, frankly, i dont even know her name, so technically she isnt even an acquaintance. I dont think she knows mine. It was like out of the blue she decided that we would be friends for life...it made me feel as though she wanted something from me, but since she hasnt asked me for anything yet, i can only assume that i have overreacted and she doesnt really want anything from me (the skeptic in me is still insisting that she will ask for it later!)
But what do i do?
Do i let the inner snob in me continue to snob her? Or do i try to maintain civility, but run the risk of encouraging her when i dont want to encourage her???
Monday, June 05, 2006
Jack Burger's Post-it break up...
I know. I should stop watching Sex and the City if the reminders are so obvious.
But i treat it as therapy. Its also like going to school where the teacher harps on about the things you should know. I want to learn something, especially since i went through it, and i dont want to be a repeat offender. And anyway, its the last season...how can i not continue to watch it? Carrie goes to Paris...
If you have the DVD's and you also need a lesson to learn about break ups Season 6 Disc 2, episode 6 and 7. Thats the pointer i will give you. Its the relationship with Jack Burger - the "zsa zsa zsu" guy. The one that Carrie thought she would be with for a very long time. And then things went sour and they took "a break". He went away and said that he would call when he gets back. At least he gave her a time frame to work with...whilst i got none.
He comes back, and they reconcile...he does the most thoughtful beautiful thing for her - the pink carnations that she said was "coming back in style"...its simply he listened to her and surprised her with them in her favourite colour. She jokes about the man with the briefcase and fruit...instead of a mango this time, he had a coconut...its a joke only the both of them will understand and appreciate. He stays the night and in the next morning he is gone.
Now why does he leave after they have reconciled...only to break up with a post-it note reading:
"I'm sorry.
I can't do this.
Please don't hate me."
Let me advise all the men out there, post-it notes are not a way to break up with someone. Sleeping with someone and then breaking up with them under the pretension that you are back together is not the way to break up with someone.
Thankfully, this is one unfortunate circumstance i didnt have to go through. Although, i actually had the wonderful blissful, hope-it-never-ends moment prior to the break up. Then i had the break up, which happened to conclude with the "Please don't hate me" line thrown my way for good measure.
Why the f#$% do guys(some) do that? Give you hope and signs that everything is perfectly fine and then in a swift swoop slit your throat from ear to ear and end the crazy massacre on you by asking you not to hate them!!!
Yes. I am still angry.
The episodes brought it back out of me. Like i said...it feels like "the end" is being played out right before my eyes...at least Carrie experienced it over 2 loves in her life, Big and Burger. I suffered the onslaught with just the one. Too much to bear in my opinion, in one sitting. I'm surprised that i havent tried to harm myself. To self-destruct.
But the end is near...Season 6 will close by next week...well, my viewings of it will end by then. Maybe, just maybe, I will put it to rest as well.
But i treat it as therapy. Its also like going to school where the teacher harps on about the things you should know. I want to learn something, especially since i went through it, and i dont want to be a repeat offender. And anyway, its the last season...how can i not continue to watch it? Carrie goes to Paris...
If you have the DVD's and you also need a lesson to learn about break ups Season 6 Disc 2, episode 6 and 7. Thats the pointer i will give you. Its the relationship with Jack Burger - the "zsa zsa zsu" guy. The one that Carrie thought she would be with for a very long time. And then things went sour and they took "a break". He went away and said that he would call when he gets back. At least he gave her a time frame to work with...whilst i got none.
He comes back, and they reconcile...he does the most thoughtful beautiful thing for her - the pink carnations that she said was "coming back in style"...its simply he listened to her and surprised her with them in her favourite colour. She jokes about the man with the briefcase and fruit...instead of a mango this time, he had a coconut...its a joke only the both of them will understand and appreciate. He stays the night and in the next morning he is gone.
Now why does he leave after they have reconciled...only to break up with a post-it note reading:
"I'm sorry.
I can't do this.
Please don't hate me."
Let me advise all the men out there, post-it notes are not a way to break up with someone. Sleeping with someone and then breaking up with them under the pretension that you are back together is not the way to break up with someone.
Thankfully, this is one unfortunate circumstance i didnt have to go through. Although, i actually had the wonderful blissful, hope-it-never-ends moment prior to the break up. Then i had the break up, which happened to conclude with the "Please don't hate me" line thrown my way for good measure.
Why the f#$% do guys(some) do that? Give you hope and signs that everything is perfectly fine and then in a swift swoop slit your throat from ear to ear and end the crazy massacre on you by asking you not to hate them!!!
Yes. I am still angry.
The episodes brought it back out of me. Like i said...it feels like "the end" is being played out right before my eyes...at least Carrie experienced it over 2 loves in her life, Big and Burger. I suffered the onslaught with just the one. Too much to bear in my opinion, in one sitting. I'm surprised that i havent tried to harm myself. To self-destruct.
But the end is near...Season 6 will close by next week...well, my viewings of it will end by then. Maybe, just maybe, I will put it to rest as well.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Gorgeous Gal = Stupid Girl???
When i was younger, my mother told me that being too pretty meant that your judgement could be placed at jeopardy...in turn cultivating a very stupid girl.
There is a lot of reasons why my mother told me that a beautiful girl was more often than not, a stupid girl. But i dont know her true motives, i can only speculate as to why.
Perhaps she didnt want me to feel bad about not being pretty enough...
Perhaps she just wanted me to cultivate my mind and spirit and forget about my vanity...
Perhaps there is some truth behind it from the examples she has witnessed amongst her own family and others...
Perhaps it was a mechanism in protecting me from the greater world, because when i was younger i was pretty and i wasnt as knowledgeable as i am now...
There are a multitude of reasons and i cant pin point the one most true.
But i started to think about how true it seems that the most beautiful girls in the world get taken for a ride and make the most uninformed decisions ever! (When they truly should have known better!)
It all started by something K asked in an email. She asked me, hypothetically as to whether i would move in with my boyfriend's family? I told her that i might, i cant rule it out completely since it all depends on the circumstances at the time. Like if i was alone in this world and had no family to turn to, and i couldnt support myself, and i got along with his family and they loved me like their own, and that we were on the verge of marrying anyway...under those type of combination of circumstances, then yes, i might...otherwise, no, i would not move in with my boyfriend's family.
We then got on the phone and she started to tell me something closer to home and trying to make the subject light hearted, i joked and said:
"You know K, my mother has always said that the most prettiest girls are the most stupid girls in the world!"
We laughed and joked about the idea, and with regards to what she was telling me, it seemed to fit the bill on this occasion.
She later emailed a male colleague of hers (from her old work place) and asked him if he thought the idea of the beautiful girls out there were the most stupid girls, held some truth?
He replied in the email saying something to the effect of:
"Just look at the photos of the girls i dated in the past, and trust me, they were stupid! There's the proof!!!"
K informed me that we had a male who agreed with the idea.
I'm not saying that these girls arent smart. I mean, wasnt Jessica Simpson suppose to be a Grade A student when she was in high school? And yet, we need not look further than her series "Newly Weds" to see that she isnt all that bright about everything else in life. How hard is it to throw out dead flowers???
Maybe Jessica is a bad example.
My mother has told me lots of stories about my aunts and some of them...very beautiful and yet very dumb in the choices they make. Perhaps the circumstance in their life steered them to make such choices, but even when someone older and more knowledgeable tried to intervene and show them other options, they wouldnt listen and try to make sense of things, they just went and acted on the most stupid of all choices!
I'm not as old and im not as wise, yet even i was able to see how miserably their choices would end up...so, why didnt they see it before it was too late???
I guess it gives everyone else comfort in knowing that some of these beautiful girls arent so bright, but its scary that they can easily be taken for granted. The feminist in me wished they used their brains and it wants to protect them some way, some how...the rest of me is relieved that i dont have to feel so bad about myself.
I'm selfish.
There is a lot of reasons why my mother told me that a beautiful girl was more often than not, a stupid girl. But i dont know her true motives, i can only speculate as to why.
Perhaps she didnt want me to feel bad about not being pretty enough...
Perhaps she just wanted me to cultivate my mind and spirit and forget about my vanity...
Perhaps there is some truth behind it from the examples she has witnessed amongst her own family and others...
Perhaps it was a mechanism in protecting me from the greater world, because when i was younger i was pretty and i wasnt as knowledgeable as i am now...
There are a multitude of reasons and i cant pin point the one most true.
But i started to think about how true it seems that the most beautiful girls in the world get taken for a ride and make the most uninformed decisions ever! (When they truly should have known better!)
It all started by something K asked in an email. She asked me, hypothetically as to whether i would move in with my boyfriend's family? I told her that i might, i cant rule it out completely since it all depends on the circumstances at the time. Like if i was alone in this world and had no family to turn to, and i couldnt support myself, and i got along with his family and they loved me like their own, and that we were on the verge of marrying anyway...under those type of combination of circumstances, then yes, i might...otherwise, no, i would not move in with my boyfriend's family.
We then got on the phone and she started to tell me something closer to home and trying to make the subject light hearted, i joked and said:
"You know K, my mother has always said that the most prettiest girls are the most stupid girls in the world!"
We laughed and joked about the idea, and with regards to what she was telling me, it seemed to fit the bill on this occasion.
She later emailed a male colleague of hers (from her old work place) and asked him if he thought the idea of the beautiful girls out there were the most stupid girls, held some truth?
He replied in the email saying something to the effect of:
"Just look at the photos of the girls i dated in the past, and trust me, they were stupid! There's the proof!!!"
K informed me that we had a male who agreed with the idea.
I'm not saying that these girls arent smart. I mean, wasnt Jessica Simpson suppose to be a Grade A student when she was in high school? And yet, we need not look further than her series "Newly Weds" to see that she isnt all that bright about everything else in life. How hard is it to throw out dead flowers???
Maybe Jessica is a bad example.
My mother has told me lots of stories about my aunts and some of them...very beautiful and yet very dumb in the choices they make. Perhaps the circumstance in their life steered them to make such choices, but even when someone older and more knowledgeable tried to intervene and show them other options, they wouldnt listen and try to make sense of things, they just went and acted on the most stupid of all choices!
I'm not as old and im not as wise, yet even i was able to see how miserably their choices would end up...so, why didnt they see it before it was too late???
I guess it gives everyone else comfort in knowing that some of these beautiful girls arent so bright, but its scary that they can easily be taken for granted. The feminist in me wished they used their brains and it wants to protect them some way, some how...the rest of me is relieved that i dont have to feel so bad about myself.
I'm selfish.
