Brain Hang
Friday, April 28, 2006
Did you ever have that kind of moment where the neurons in your brain hung on you?
(over Msn)
Pari says:
I'm going senile....
West Side Story says:
Why?
Pari says:
Suddenly can't think...help me out here.. ability to see... sense of ____ what?
Pari says:
sounds like cite.
Pari says:
short ____tedness... far____ tedness...
Pari says:
oh yeah. Sight..
Pari says:
just answered my own question. YEESH!
West Side Story says:
Haha!
It's a sign that I got to kick the habit of sleeping only 3 hours every night. |
My Saturday with Morrie
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Endured a gruelling 7-hour hair styling session in the name of vanity with Tuesdays with Morrie as my reading companion.
As I waited for my turn at the salon, popular Professor Morrie discovered that he had a degenerative disease where his body would waste away and eventually he would become frozen inside his own flesh. As the first drops of shampoo fell on my hair, the author named Mitch, who was also Morrie's student, reunited with his favourite professor and visited the latter every Tuesday for his lesson on the Meaning of Life. As my hair reeked the first smell of chemical, Morrie talked about self-pity. Have a daily limit, just a few tearful minutes, then on with the day. As my hair was getting ironed out, Morrie imparted his views on Death.
"... most of us all walk around as if we're sleepwalking. We really don't experience the world fully, because we're half-asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do...
... you strip away all that stuff and you focus on the essentials. When you are going to die, you see everything much differently.
... learn how to die, and you learn how to live."
I feel my mind is like a washing machine that's struggling to spin while jammed with several years worth of laundry. Just what are the real essentials that I'd been ignoring? What are my distractions? There has to be some things I'm doing right. While I felt for many of Morrie's views as well as stories, I was not able to turn these feelings from fragmented thoughts into a kind of enlightenment I sorely craved. These thoughts are all squashed at some bottleneck somewhere, and that always result in a blank stare whenever asked the age old question, 'What doth thou want from Life?' There are so many things going on. Where do I start? Seriously in need of a life coach... seriously in need of a Morrie.
As my scalp and bum were getting numb from over stimulation and the other from over sitting, a weakened Morrie gave his final interview on the "Nightline" with Ted Koppel. In his final words, Morrie asked people to be compassionate and take responsibility for each other. While reading his subsequent exchange with Koppel after his interview, the hair dresser asked if the hair dryer was too hot and I realised that my eyes were red and watery.
I quickly replied, "Yeah, the hair dryer was too hot." Hope she did not see me blush.
Finally, Morrie said goodbye to the author and parted peacefully from the world in the next chapter. His words left a huge imprint on Mitch who in turn helped spread the same imprint to grateful readers like myself. Yet another item to add to my washing machine chock-full of thoughts, still soaking it in and still struggling to spin, but at least Morrie's life philosophies doubled up as a fantastic softener.
Note after posting: It's a Tuesday! Wasn't intended this way, but it's oddly coincidental. |
Fresh off Msn Messenger
Saturday, April 22, 2006
A new pal I met at the sign language class has a caustic tongue. Here's her latest gibe over Msn. So deliciously low.
rainyroad says - i (went) back to work on wed after easter, so freaking busy but one of my colleague keep bugging me like a housefly but i cant buzz her away coz she is 80kg. |
A Principal's Recount
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Brain's throbbing from a week's worth of sleep deficit and humid weather so thank goodness for a principal with loads of life stories. My colleagues said that she never gets tired of telling this one.
I put on my stern Principal face and gave a long lecture on the importance of good behaviour to a particularly rowdy class of students. At the end of my speech I asked the class if there is anything they want to say. A boy raised his hand and said, "You forgot to zip your pants, Ma'am." |
Differently Able
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Watched Running Boy (Marathon) for the third time and I still get swept up in high emotion. The story was inspired by Bae Hyeong-Jin, who was diagnosed with autism and although 22 years old, has a cognitive ability of a 5-years old. His favourite things are like any child - sincere and simple. One of the things he likes is running, which he's very good at.
This is not just an overcome all odds + triumph of the human spirit movie for me. It is another baby step towards bringing awareness of autism and other known disabilities to people. Contrary to what some people think, autism is NOT a disease that with some magic medicine everything will be okay. It is something that one has to live with and to manage. Nevertheless, we've come a long way from putting folks with disabilities in the "nut house" or leaving them out to die.
I felt the most for the character's mother, and I cried every time "My son is a special child" was uttered because it hits close to home. My youngest brother, D, has autism. While on a mild side compared to Cho-Won, the main character, growing up with him was not easy and my parents can vouch for that.
I remembered when D was in kindergarten with his older twin brother, they would go around biting people as part of childplay of dogs. While the older twin stopped after he was told not to do it again, the younger one did not. My parents were called to school one day because D bit another child so hard on the arm till he bled. My mom explained to me later that D just wanted to protect his brother from being bullied.
There was also the stares strangers gave when my mom pulled D away from a display shelf at Toys R Us. While D is quiet most of the time, if he was upset, he would make animal-like sounds and fly into a fiery tantrum. He screamed and tried to bang his head on the floor. At 5 years old, he was not able to tell her, "Mom, I left my shark toy on the shelf. Please let me get it."
I also remembered D crying at the dinner table after his second day at school. Between sobs, he repeated, "Not stupid" and mom broke down as well. After that, he was enrolled in a school for special education where he flourished. Over the years, his temper tantrums lessened as he learnt to articulate his thoughts and feelings better.
I am ashamed to admit that until university days, I did not want to have a part in D's life, preferring to interact with the older twin. I struggled to ignore my worries over what will become of D as he grows older. Will he continue to bite people, make those strange animal sounds, be an object of curiosity of strangers? Everytime I had friends over I would secretly pray that they will not notice anything wrong with him. I used to think that as long as D didn't talk, it'll be okay. As his sister, I should have known better but I chose to escape emotionally by treating D like he was invisible and leave his upbringing solely to our parents.
Finally, maturity kicked in. It took me a long time to realise that who I have as siblings or family, does not define who I am. In fact, it is how I treat them that matters most and I'd ignored D long enough. I started asking D about his day and in turn, he started asking me why I was hardly at home. He became even more flustered whenever I came home late after work as it was not part of the routine. We had our fair share of sibling squabbles, but at least D finally accepted the change and I finally discovered the disrupted routine was saying goodnight to me.
Ironically, it was not D who prompted me to enter special education. The turning point was when I knew for sure that if I were to enter another office cubicle on another fruitless weekday I will be tempted to end my life by swallowing the endless supply of stapler bullets.
During my career limbo, I volunteered at D's school, the place that nurtured D and made him the fine young man he is today. Eventually, I figured that if I'm going to work, it might as well be something worthwhile. So I abandoned my business/commerce past and went on to do a postgraduate course on special education. It's a field that I'm going to be in for a long time.
As for D, he is currently enrolled in a vocational programme after having successfully completed his N-Levels. My brother is a special child. But he is not disabled in life. Kudos to you, my little brother. |
Quote Num-Ba 271
Friday, April 14, 2006
Clicked over to Rice Bowl Journals today and it was like I'd walked into a surprise birthday party minus the heart attack inducing shrieks.
Thank you so much. |
Looking Back
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Permanently added to my list of favourite things to do is looking into the car's rear view mirror at stop lights. Besides a means to kill time, there is something soothing about watching the blank stares of other folks. Makes me feel like I'm not the only one sucked into this never ending cycle of daily commuting just to earn one's keep. Green is always good, it gets you there faster, saves fuel and your leg won't feel as cramped. And red, well... is a pain.
In a country where traffic lights and courtesy-impaired/ speed-egomaniac/ turnsignal-phobic/ brake-happy/ lala land-oblivious /bumper-tagging /slow-mo-moronic drivers lurk at every corner, I confess that as an already impatient person, I'm well on the way to signing up for Road Rage Anonymous. Stopping at a red light on a bad day while a slow-mo-moronic driver ahead just managed to slip past at amber will most certainly leave me entertaining the thought of catching up to that car
As a healthier alternative, people watching is one of the ways I can calm myself down as I have been succumbing to bouts of anger lately. Instead of the road ahead, I'd seen couples, parents-children, business partners, seniors, youngsters, group of friends and even a man with a potted plant on the passenger seat. I briefly escaped from my world to wonder about the kind of lives they may lead. Did the elderly taxi driver with a massive tattoo along his left arm have a coloured past? Was the young executive with a loud red tie mentally reviewing his work to-do list or his play to-do list? Why is it after months of driving, I'd seen only ONE couple really look as if they enjoyed each other's company. In those freeze frame moments, I'm constantly reminded that we are all differently wired humans with differently drawn, intertwining paths (even though we drive like we're the only ones on the road).
So as long as you're not running late, red lights are not so bad after all. |
Here Kitty, Kitty
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
A traumatic experience with a dog at a tender age of 14 months left me a life-long phobia of canines (especially large black ones with thunderous barks). I dread visiting relatives in Thailand because 99.9% of the time, they'll have huge guard dogs and not all were kind enough to put the dogs in cages before my family's visit. My dad used to carry a screaming and hysterical younger me into the house until I got too heavy. Now, it's just a screaming and hysterical older me making a mad dash for the front door the moment the car door flew open.
So my love affair with the immediate alternative - cats. They neither slobber all over you nor try to lick your face like dogs do. Dogs try too hard to please while cats have poise. Sure they have claws, but you can always get a set of those nail caps to save your furniture. Cats also don't need as much attention, are self reliant and at least can bury their own *ahems*.
Watched my first cat show at the Expo last Sunday. Was quite disappointed because it was more quiet than I expected and the show cats were all in cages. I was hoping that the cats would be in glass boxes or out in the open as it was annoying swaying like an anemone while trying to minimise the lines across their gorgeous faces.
Here are some shots I'd taken with the horrid camera. I'm a camera idiot. I just want a something that doesn't take fuzzy pictures just because there was not enough light. Never have this problem with the old camera, and it was just a good o' point and shoot. Clear pictures and rich colours everytime including indoor shots. When I save enough spending cash, I'm going to get myself either a Fijifilm FinePix (my previous camera) or a Canon Powershot. No more Casio Exilim for me!
Anyway...
It was cold in the exhibition hall and this little guy brought his own sweater.
Presenting Mr Hyper. This one was spotted fleeting from one corner of the cage to another like he was trying to find ways and means to entertain himself. On the right, he extended his paw into the other cage and swiped at his sleepy neighbour's head several times before doing the same thing to his left neighbour.
I'd to stick the camera through the bars for this one. Good thing it was asleep if not I don't think I would've been able to get this close.
Taken just seconds before the cat jolted up from its slumber.
I walked past this one during my rounds and when I returned, it was still in the same position and holding the same pose. The purrrr-fect model.
I love it when they tuck their legs under their bodies and snuggle up like that.
I can't stop staring at this one. It has the kind of face that makes my legs feel like jelly.
Look into those hypnotising eyes. I adore cats with blue eyes.
It's a she. Doesn't it remind you of the bearded lady?
I used to have a Felix the Cat clock with the moving eyes when I was a baby. Mom said that I could never get tired of staring at it.
And finally after a long day...
|
Fools' Revenge
Monday, April 03, 2006
Shawn* (not real name) has a mean habit of tricking people into turning their heads to look at something that wasn't there, and then scream at the poor victims "Got you! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!"
Like a tired joke that'd undergone all imaginable remixes, renderations, remixes of those renderations, vise versa, etc.. what used to tickle our funny bones now felt more like sandpaper abrasions.
So a plan was set.
On a nice morning like today when the students were preparing for their first lesson, I entered bearing a notice and looking very grim. I informed the co-teacher (CT) and the teacher's assistant (TA) loudly enough for a certain someone to eavesdrop that we have to inform all parents about the extra day of school starting this week.
"Yeah right, I'm not going to fall for that." As expected, Shawn was suspicious. We kept up the pretence throughout the day, even to the extent of fooling the whole class except for Shawn who still believed that it was a trick.
As I began to wonder if the joke might have gone too far, I bumped into the Principal and the little red guy on my shoulder finally got the upperhand.
So just before class was dismissed, the Principal came in and announced that as part of the new regulation issued by the Ministry of Education, all schools in Singapore will now run for 5 1/2 days a week instead of 5 days starting this week. The school has already informed all parents in order for them to make the necessary arrangements. As she spoke, the entire class fell silent.
Behind me I heard Shawn whispering to the TA. "This is a joke right?"
"Do you see anyone smiling?" the TA replied in a deadpan voice.
Shawn began to panic.
"I have alot of things to do on Saturday. There's swimming, piano, tuition... " his voice began to quiver.
"Then you'll have to rearrange your schedule, there's nothing we can do about it. This was set by the Government and we have to follow the new educational requirement."
If we'd carried the joke any further, I will not be surprised if Shawn's eyes popped right out of their sockets. His usually rosy cheeks were also sapped of colour. The CT tried to excuse herself from the class as she looked like she was going to explode. Finally...
"Got you! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!" we screamed and poor Shawn took quite a while to recover after that.
Happy Belated April Fools' Day. |
Tread Carefully
I returned to exercising at least 5 times a week thanks to an abundance of kiddy snacks (ie. junk food) at school and a weak will. Disgruntled over lowered metabolism due to aging aside, I was disappointed that results of all the hard work I'd put in for the last 9 months dissipated much faster than one can say, "Maybe just one more helping."
2kgs might not look much on the weighing scale but it's a huge strain on the knees. My right knee began to hurt bad in early February 2006 after an easy run. Initially I thought it was a lapse in routine that caused the soreness, but it took 3 days for the discomfort to subside. Subsequent runs ended with same result and there was one time I actually teared because of the pain.
An occupational therapist friend suggested that it could be a ligament strain. Have yet to have the knee examined since I don't intend to pay consultancy fees only to ignore the doctor's 100% probability advice to lay off running for a period of time anyway. As my own doc, I'll continue to hold onto the pretext that it's the added weight that aggravated the condition. So it's cardio, cardio and more cardio!
I'm a huge fan of the treadmill. Firstly, it beats running on hard concrete. Secondly, it keeps your pace in check while you space out unlike other cardio machine that requires more concentration to get the movement right. Thirdly, there's no chance of slacking especially when you don't fancy the idea of falling off the machine. An article in a fitness magazine also noted that it's the best cardio machine exercise for burning calories and cutting fat because it takes more energy to have both feet leave the ground even when running slowly.
However, it's a knee killer due to constant high impact. Normally I'll run between 30-60 minutes at moderate-high speed but because of my knee, I'd switched to brisk walking with a steep incline at mid-run when discomfort reached level 7. No pain no gain.
It may sound like I'm asking for trouble, but as stubborn as I am about working out the way I think it's best, I do not intend to be like my father who had to stop running for good because of his weak knees... at least not before I run a full marathon in my lifetime. I suppose I ought to lay off running for a while or do kickboxing and use the elliptical. Still, it's easier to keep to the routine than to build the form back up again. The only thing I can do is not overdo the treadmill pounding and (for goodness sake) lay off those darn cheesecakes! |
