The conundrum of my adult life is this: how time crawls from 8.30am to 5.30pm on a working weekday yet the seconds just seem to fly by on weekends, public holidays and sick days.
I guess time is indeed, relative. Anyway, it's the final day of 2010 and in 2011, I strive to accomplish the following:
a) To be a dutiful daughter, a productive employee, a focused student, a thoughtful friend, a loving girlfriend and a strong swimmer;
b) To pass my exams.
I have no other lofty ambitions apart from the above. Better to set realistic goals lest I disappoint myself.
Wishing all my friends near and far a very, very prosperous and happy 2011!!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
nostalgia
Hey Rach! You are probably the only person that reads this blog :D
Seeing how difficult it is for us to maintain a friendship due to differences in time zone and your hectic schedule (you know, saving lives is pretty time consuming :D), I thought why not get my message across through my blog instead of text messaging you (which is super expensive) or leaving you offline MSN messages.
I really want to tell you that I appreciate your friendship greatly. I don't stay in touch with many people from CPT days and I don't pretend to be all buddy buddy with them when I do see them (virtually or otherwise) but with you, I take the time and effort to stay in touch. You and I share the same cynical outlook in life. We're both realists yet sometimes I wonder if we're trully optimists in disguise. I guess we're balanced. Not always happy, but we're somewhat hopeful. We believe that there is more to life than just the whole idealized white picket fences, four wheel drive and a family pet dream.
I miss our nights hanging out at Bagan bad mouthing teenage wannabees. You are loud, you are crazy, you are funny, you are a genius but most importantly, you have been an amazing friend to me all these years. I treasure what we have and I will always, always hold a place for you in my heart even if we do eventually drift apart.
Seeing how difficult it is for us to maintain a friendship due to differences in time zone and your hectic schedule (you know, saving lives is pretty time consuming :D), I thought why not get my message across through my blog instead of text messaging you (which is super expensive) or leaving you offline MSN messages.
I really want to tell you that I appreciate your friendship greatly. I don't stay in touch with many people from CPT days and I don't pretend to be all buddy buddy with them when I do see them (virtually or otherwise) but with you, I take the time and effort to stay in touch. You and I share the same cynical outlook in life. We're both realists yet sometimes I wonder if we're trully optimists in disguise. I guess we're balanced. Not always happy, but we're somewhat hopeful. We believe that there is more to life than just the whole idealized white picket fences, four wheel drive and a family pet dream.
I miss our nights hanging out at Bagan bad mouthing teenage wannabees. You are loud, you are crazy, you are funny, you are a genius but most importantly, you have been an amazing friend to me all these years. I treasure what we have and I will always, always hold a place for you in my heart even if we do eventually drift apart.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
...love leaves a memory no one can steal
Some of you may know this, and some of you may not.
To cut the long story short, I've been dating this Catholic guy who is pretty devout for the past 16 months. Marriage at this point, while may seem quite presumptuous, is only the natural order of things. If I marry this guy, I will have to attend the 6 month marriage course taught by the Church, get married in Church, take a vow to raise our hypothetical children to be Catholics (baptism, Cathetism, Sunday mass, the works) and not use any artificial forms of birth control or any other funny methods that will prevent conception (e.g. "pulling out").
Now, I was raised in a traditional Buddhist household with a bit of Taoism influences infused here and there. My mantra in life has always been just "If you can't do good, then do no harm". I try my hardest to do the right thing only to fail, I am not always patient, definitely not always compassionate and I struggle to be a good person, all the time. There is a lot about Catholicsm that I will never understand. Faith and beliefs are after all very personal and the journey in building a loving relationship with God is often, very rewarding.
I am not going to go into the reasons as to why I don't agree with the teachings of the Church. These debates and arguments are endless. Intellectuals, philosophers and scientists have all discussed this to death with no definitive conclusions, thus making the arguments moot, futile and a complete waste of time. People will believe whatever they want to. Faith is a belief in something that you cannot see and therefore, there is nothing to prove.
My Catholic friend has derived most of his identity from his religion - much of the traits that I love(d) about him (e.g. humility, kindness, loyalty, fidelity, selflessness and patience) are presumably a direct result from his association with God and the Church. If I can accept and love all these personality traits, then I will also have to accept and love his religious beliefs and practices. After all, he's not just half of a person, he is a whole person. Besides, no one is perfect and no relationship is without its fair share of problems. There are no moral absolutes.
So in my situation, do I compromise and live my entire marriage life in fear that I will give birth to more children that I am emotionally and financially ready for? Children are a blessing, no doubt. If sex wasn't inseparable from procreation, you and I would not even exist. I am definitely open to life - just not more than I can handle. Parenting is life-altering - children are a life-long commitment and the responsibility that comes with rearing even one child is enormous. Please bear in mind I am not Catholic hence I lack faith that God somehow, will provide. If that were the case, the problems of starving children in Africa would have been solved.
I suffer, daily from this predicament that I am in. It is pain for me, either way. Nowadays, when I do pray to God, I no longer pray for Him to keep us happy, instead I pray for courage and strength needed to let him (and essentially, the concept of "us") go. Break ups are heartachingly painful - you feel like you've lost a part of you that you can never quite get back.
Whichever road I decide to take, I hope I will never look back in regret and remorse.
To cut the long story short, I've been dating this Catholic guy who is pretty devout for the past 16 months. Marriage at this point, while may seem quite presumptuous, is only the natural order of things. If I marry this guy, I will have to attend the 6 month marriage course taught by the Church, get married in Church, take a vow to raise our hypothetical children to be Catholics (baptism, Cathetism, Sunday mass, the works) and not use any artificial forms of birth control or any other funny methods that will prevent conception (e.g. "pulling out").
Now, I was raised in a traditional Buddhist household with a bit of Taoism influences infused here and there. My mantra in life has always been just "If you can't do good, then do no harm". I try my hardest to do the right thing only to fail, I am not always patient, definitely not always compassionate and I struggle to be a good person, all the time. There is a lot about Catholicsm that I will never understand. Faith and beliefs are after all very personal and the journey in building a loving relationship with God is often, very rewarding.
I am not going to go into the reasons as to why I don't agree with the teachings of the Church. These debates and arguments are endless. Intellectuals, philosophers and scientists have all discussed this to death with no definitive conclusions, thus making the arguments moot, futile and a complete waste of time. People will believe whatever they want to. Faith is a belief in something that you cannot see and therefore, there is nothing to prove.
My Catholic friend has derived most of his identity from his religion - much of the traits that I love(d) about him (e.g. humility, kindness, loyalty, fidelity, selflessness and patience) are presumably a direct result from his association with God and the Church. If I can accept and love all these personality traits, then I will also have to accept and love his religious beliefs and practices. After all, he's not just half of a person, he is a whole person. Besides, no one is perfect and no relationship is without its fair share of problems. There are no moral absolutes.
So in my situation, do I compromise and live my entire marriage life in fear that I will give birth to more children that I am emotionally and financially ready for? Children are a blessing, no doubt. If sex wasn't inseparable from procreation, you and I would not even exist. I am definitely open to life - just not more than I can handle. Parenting is life-altering - children are a life-long commitment and the responsibility that comes with rearing even one child is enormous. Please bear in mind I am not Catholic hence I lack faith that God somehow, will provide. If that were the case, the problems of starving children in Africa would have been solved.
I suffer, daily from this predicament that I am in. It is pain for me, either way. Nowadays, when I do pray to God, I no longer pray for Him to keep us happy, instead I pray for courage and strength needed to let him (and essentially, the concept of "us") go. Break ups are heartachingly painful - you feel like you've lost a part of you that you can never quite get back.
Whichever road I decide to take, I hope I will never look back in regret and remorse.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
the taxi driver's daughter
I normally travel to the city by cabbing as it saves me the hassle of getting my bearings right and finding parking close to my destination.
I met this taxi driver who was probably nearing 70 (or maybe he looked older than he actually was) on the way back from the city to the office. He spoke perfect English and he enquired about the company I was working with. Turns out he has a daughter who recently graduated from university and is currently looking for employment, and 3 other children, 1 of whom was handicapped and cannot walk. He doesn't know what his son is doing for a living (his son has a family of his own) and mentioned that his eldest daughter is also seeking for a job. It makes me a little sad, seeing this fragile man in his twilight years, still having to toil day after day, navigating the little alleys, streets and highways to earn a living.
On that same day, our Managing Director celebrated his 60th birthday in glamour and style with the presence of all his staff and family members. His only concerns were how to propel the Company to greater heights and grow in terms of size and revenue. He had a beautiful wife, a succesful daughter, wealth, health and a great life.
It makes me wonder, how unfair life trully is. Two men, almost the same age but entirely different destinies. As pessimistic as this sounds, I think sometimes, nothing is accidental and our fates have been pre-determined and our eventual outcomes on Earth are there - in the sky, written in the stars. The only way to accept pain, suffering and solitude is to embrace it and grow...in all of your loneliness and disappointments...and learn to acknowledge that certain things in life just are the way that they are.
I met this taxi driver who was probably nearing 70 (or maybe he looked older than he actually was) on the way back from the city to the office. He spoke perfect English and he enquired about the company I was working with. Turns out he has a daughter who recently graduated from university and is currently looking for employment, and 3 other children, 1 of whom was handicapped and cannot walk. He doesn't know what his son is doing for a living (his son has a family of his own) and mentioned that his eldest daughter is also seeking for a job. It makes me a little sad, seeing this fragile man in his twilight years, still having to toil day after day, navigating the little alleys, streets and highways to earn a living.
On that same day, our Managing Director celebrated his 60th birthday in glamour and style with the presence of all his staff and family members. His only concerns were how to propel the Company to greater heights and grow in terms of size and revenue. He had a beautiful wife, a succesful daughter, wealth, health and a great life.
It makes me wonder, how unfair life trully is. Two men, almost the same age but entirely different destinies. As pessimistic as this sounds, I think sometimes, nothing is accidental and our fates have been pre-determined and our eventual outcomes on Earth are there - in the sky, written in the stars. The only way to accept pain, suffering and solitude is to embrace it and grow...in all of your loneliness and disappointments...and learn to acknowledge that certain things in life just are the way that they are.
Monday, August 9, 2010
...vast truths in the smallest of things
The thing that scares me most about getting married, child-birth and growing older is the loss of hope. When you are 25, single and free, you know that there is more to life than just this; you know that things can and will get better; you can still live in Tokyo, Africa, Prague; your ambitions of writing the Great Novel can still come true; you will eventually save the world and someday, you will find Love. People say that life isn't about waiting for something extraordinary to happen, but finding happiness in the insignificant details like the smell of roses and rain on a beautiful Sunday morning. But to me, it's the faith and belief that there is more to life than just this that gives me comfort when the monotony of daily grind seem to take over. There has to be.
I want to live life like a song from Peter Pan. Poetic, romantic, haunting and heart breakingly beautiful. I want to be able to converse in Japanese with a stranger in a train on the way to Narita. I want to read Murakami in a Parisian cafe; eat croissants, smoke a cigaratte (a herbal one that is) and drink lattes. I want to paint more walls in orphanages, work with United Nations, adopt a Maltese, run marathons, sit on a sandy beach in Penang and marvel in awe of the beauty of it all, meet an attractive guy in a stuffy club where soft, seductive jazz is being played and wonder with excitement, "Could this be Love? If we can't be together in this life, then I'll see you in the next one".
These are some of the things I used to dream about when I was younger. And I always had hope that next year will be the year. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I cannot seem to find peace and contentment within myself. Everybody I know is moving on, making plans, getting engaged, married, giving birth, buying houses, playing golf...and I'm just here, drifting like a floating device on a stormy ocean, sometimes lonely...mostly lost. I will go where the waves, wind and heart will take me, even if it leads me nowhere. Life is a series of unfortunate events, seemingly meaningless unless you discover for purpose on your own, always challenging but oh, so, so, worth it. To see a rainbow, to listen to a concerto, to smell a blooming rose, to taste a lover's kiss, to touch a child's hair...
"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour."
I want to live life like a song from Peter Pan. Poetic, romantic, haunting and heart breakingly beautiful. I want to be able to converse in Japanese with a stranger in a train on the way to Narita. I want to read Murakami in a Parisian cafe; eat croissants, smoke a cigaratte (a herbal one that is) and drink lattes. I want to paint more walls in orphanages, work with United Nations, adopt a Maltese, run marathons, sit on a sandy beach in Penang and marvel in awe of the beauty of it all, meet an attractive guy in a stuffy club where soft, seductive jazz is being played and wonder with excitement, "Could this be Love? If we can't be together in this life, then I'll see you in the next one".
These are some of the things I used to dream about when I was younger. And I always had hope that next year will be the year. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I cannot seem to find peace and contentment within myself. Everybody I know is moving on, making plans, getting engaged, married, giving birth, buying houses, playing golf...and I'm just here, drifting like a floating device on a stormy ocean, sometimes lonely...mostly lost. I will go where the waves, wind and heart will take me, even if it leads me nowhere. Life is a series of unfortunate events, seemingly meaningless unless you discover for purpose on your own, always challenging but oh, so, so, worth it. To see a rainbow, to listen to a concerto, to smell a blooming rose, to taste a lover's kiss, to touch a child's hair...
"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour."
Sunday, August 1, 2010
...to spock
Carrie Bradshaw once said "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love". Many realists would disagree with her. We can't all be passionately in love with our chosen partner 24 hours a day. Real life gets in the way. Most of the time, Love merely becomes a distraction, an aberration - so are our chosen partners when they become demanding of our attention, time and money (amongst other things), expecting more than what we are able to give. Resentments sets in and seperation looms ahead.
Monday, July 19, 2010
...we live outside the touch of time
My little brother and I are born almost exactly 6 years apart. He's a horse, I'm a rat. In chinese astrology, signs that are 6 years apart are least compatible or downright conflicting. For the first 14 years of his life, he and I proved that chinese astrology isn't infallible. Although I didn't want a baby brother (I even threw a tantrum by locking myself inside the toilet, blaming my mother for carrying a baby boy instead of a girl), when he appeared in our world, I found him to be the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on.
We were each other's best friends. He was Dewey (named after the youngest son in Malcom in the Middle, before the baby was born in the later seasons), I was Bob. When I obtained my driving license, I allowed him control in the driver seat and he almost banged the wall at a temple within the first 10 seconds. We even cruised around in the college I was studying at to stalk a fellow crush on mine at that time. I trusted his judgement and he would give me his opinions full of his trademark humor and creativity. We played badminton, supported Man United and watched WWE. He was our home's very own live entertainment.
I often wonder, what happened to us? What happened to Dewey and Bob, the dynamic duo? How could we have drifted so far apart that even a shared childhood memory could not bond us back together? We survived turbulence and catastrophies at home, school and in our daily lives, why is it that we are unable to survive this? Does growing up mean growing apart? Are we destined to be strangers from hereon to the eternal abyss even though I knew him from the day that he was born?
However, we did regain what we lost through our own efforts. He's oceans away from me now, living the kind of life that we never imagined was possible for him if not for his own hard work and determination. We speak quite regularly and he can still make me laugh, loud and hard at his ludicrious jokes and preposterous random remarks. He even goes by the name that I gave him 15 years ago and he is as ever, a die hard Man United fan. Many, many things have changed but whenever I talk to him, I feel as though I am speaking to the 10 year old exuberant boy who was afraid of dogs, shadows and piercing darkness. We know each other as we always were. And I tell myself, this is the one relationship I will never ever give up on, although the stars in the sky may say otherwise.
It's my mother's birthday today and I just wanted to thank her for the greatest gift she's ever given to me; Dewey - sports extraordinaire, brilliant scholar, loyal Man United supporter (for better and for worse!), dutiful son and my little brother, always.
We were each other's best friends. He was Dewey (named after the youngest son in Malcom in the Middle, before the baby was born in the later seasons), I was Bob. When I obtained my driving license, I allowed him control in the driver seat and he almost banged the wall at a temple within the first 10 seconds. We even cruised around in the college I was studying at to stalk a fellow crush on mine at that time. I trusted his judgement and he would give me his opinions full of his trademark humor and creativity. We played badminton, supported Man United and watched WWE. He was our home's very own live entertainment.
I often wonder, what happened to us? What happened to Dewey and Bob, the dynamic duo? How could we have drifted so far apart that even a shared childhood memory could not bond us back together? We survived turbulence and catastrophies at home, school and in our daily lives, why is it that we are unable to survive this? Does growing up mean growing apart? Are we destined to be strangers from hereon to the eternal abyss even though I knew him from the day that he was born?
However, we did regain what we lost through our own efforts. He's oceans away from me now, living the kind of life that we never imagined was possible for him if not for his own hard work and determination. We speak quite regularly and he can still make me laugh, loud and hard at his ludicrious jokes and preposterous random remarks. He even goes by the name that I gave him 15 years ago and he is as ever, a die hard Man United fan. Many, many things have changed but whenever I talk to him, I feel as though I am speaking to the 10 year old exuberant boy who was afraid of dogs, shadows and piercing darkness. We know each other as we always were. And I tell myself, this is the one relationship I will never ever give up on, although the stars in the sky may say otherwise.
It's my mother's birthday today and I just wanted to thank her for the greatest gift she's ever given to me; Dewey - sports extraordinaire, brilliant scholar, loyal Man United supporter (for better and for worse!), dutiful son and my little brother, always.
Monday, July 12, 2010
love is triumphant
My friend wants to be a toy when she grows up.
In my next life, I wish to be a sports journalist who also happens to be drop dead freaking gorgeous and I would really really like to be dating a professional footballer (preferably a hott goalie).
Cannot believe World Cup is over. Back to the ordinary struggles of every day life (bills, work, laundry, arguments with clients, boss, friends, weight management problems... boring...boring...boring!!!!!!!!!)
In my next life, I wish to be a sports journalist who also happens to be drop dead freaking gorgeous and I would really really like to be dating a professional footballer (preferably a hott goalie).
Cannot believe World Cup is over. Back to the ordinary struggles of every day life (bills, work, laundry, arguments with clients, boss, friends, weight management problems... boring...boring...boring!!!!!!!!!)
Monday, July 5, 2010
bola! bola! bola!
Football was a huge part of my life when I was younger. I followed the EPL religiously, knew the names of Man Utd's first team by memory, scorned Liverpool supporters and woke up at 2.30 am to see England lose on penalties (and Beckham being sent off) in the match against Argentina during the 1998 World Cup second round. I loved football because to me at least, it was a metaphor for life itself. We celebrate our team's triumphs and joys; we mourn their disappointments and sorrows. Similar to the battles and struggles in life and the varied emotions that you and I must experience daily.
However, 12 years later, and I barely know who Kaka, Messi and Mueller are. What happened in those 12 years that I completely lost interest in the game that I was once so passionate about? I guess I developed other "passions" instead, namely real boys that surprisingly do not resemble professional footballers and harmless crushes that later on developed into senseless, meaningless, quasi relationships. Looking back, I should not have diverted my attentions elsewhere. But what does a 18 year old foolish female teenager who is craving for affection from the opposite sex know? All she understands is to search for Love in all the wrong places thinking Love, for all intents and purposes will define her as a person.
So, when I watched the quarter final matches on Friday and Saturday nights, I remember once again how it feels to be a football supporter - undying loyalty and unwavering faith until the very end even when your team is losing. We wish and we hope and we pray for our heroes to come back and fight with every fibre in their beings for gold and glory. Like in life, no matter how many curveballs we are thrown against, we must and we will go on.
However, 12 years later, and I barely know who Kaka, Messi and Mueller are. What happened in those 12 years that I completely lost interest in the game that I was once so passionate about? I guess I developed other "passions" instead, namely real boys that surprisingly do not resemble professional footballers and harmless crushes that later on developed into senseless, meaningless, quasi relationships. Looking back, I should not have diverted my attentions elsewhere. But what does a 18 year old foolish female teenager who is craving for affection from the opposite sex know? All she understands is to search for Love in all the wrong places thinking Love, for all intents and purposes will define her as a person.
So, when I watched the quarter final matches on Friday and Saturday nights, I remember once again how it feels to be a football supporter - undying loyalty and unwavering faith until the very end even when your team is losing. We wish and we hope and we pray for our heroes to come back and fight with every fibre in their beings for gold and glory. Like in life, no matter how many curveballs we are thrown against, we must and we will go on.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
resurrection
I haven't written a real entry in Bob's blog in 2 years.
And yet I don't forget the feeling of happiness writing makes me feel. And how once upon a time, I dreamed of becoming a professional writer. Coming back here on this platform feels a lot like going home. No matter how far you go, there are many, many things about home that you can't seem to erase from your memory. It is there permanently, unchanged by time, imprinted in your heart.
What is the heart's memory but love itself?
If there is one superhero power I wish to have, it would be the power to go back in time. Given that opportunity, I would savour every moment I had with my family and friends in those days of childish wonder, before life became so complicated. I would not have wished to grow up so fast, dreaming that life would only get better, once I gained financial independence and freedom.
I'm a little out of practice here given that I haven't done this in 2 years. I haven't read much lately either. I may have also lost whatever little literary talent I ever posessed in the first place in the process of becoming another mindless idiot climbing the corporate ladder (but finding myself stuck at the bottom after all this time :D but that's another story for another day).
hmm...I don't even have an audience (I have lost all my "readers!"). Tomorrow I shall blast an e-mail to all the friends I remember and to all the new friends I've made...till thenn.....dreaming of cereals with yoghurt and blueberries, strawberries and kiwis....
And yet I don't forget the feeling of happiness writing makes me feel. And how once upon a time, I dreamed of becoming a professional writer. Coming back here on this platform feels a lot like going home. No matter how far you go, there are many, many things about home that you can't seem to erase from your memory. It is there permanently, unchanged by time, imprinted in your heart.
What is the heart's memory but love itself?
If there is one superhero power I wish to have, it would be the power to go back in time. Given that opportunity, I would savour every moment I had with my family and friends in those days of childish wonder, before life became so complicated. I would not have wished to grow up so fast, dreaming that life would only get better, once I gained financial independence and freedom.
I'm a little out of practice here given that I haven't done this in 2 years. I haven't read much lately either. I may have also lost whatever little literary talent I ever posessed in the first place in the process of becoming another mindless idiot climbing the corporate ladder (but finding myself stuck at the bottom after all this time :D but that's another story for another day).
hmm...I don't even have an audience (I have lost all my "readers!"). Tomorrow I shall blast an e-mail to all the friends I remember and to all the new friends I've made...till thenn.....dreaming of cereals with yoghurt and blueberries, strawberries and kiwis....
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