start everyday with a smile and get it over with

Whatever

2010-05-20T01:06:00.004+08:00

as the title says.

Whatever to:

- wrinkles and dark rings under the eyes

- questionable (poor student) healthy diet

- living in a dust magnet of a room

- single digit degree celsius nights

- situations out of one's control

- yucky research topic

- losing more hair

- disappointments

- pending exam

- cracked heels

- late nights

- uncertainty

- challenges

- tears

Whatever it is:

Come what may, I will not lose faith.

a Reuter update

2009-10-31T18:54:00.003+08:00

Emotional recession's over. Outlook for the final quarter should be fairly upbeat.

Some beginning of year Milestones

2009-02-12T23:33:00.004+08:00

1. Sign that you somehow did something right as teacher
The same student who was bent on writing your name in the book from Death Note has recently declared to his mom that you're his most favourite teacher ever.

2. Sign that you've learnt to let go.
You finally tossed out those papers containing silly exchanges between you and your ex back in school.

3. Sign that it's still a work in progress.
You salvaged a scrap or two from the bin for keepsake.

4. Sign that some things probably will never change.
(Taken from a to do list in 2007)
~ Inform (name of person in charge) of 5 microphones and 1 clip on mic~ Check with volunteers on props progress
~ Pay food invoice
~ Check with office regarding music teacher's fees
~ Buy gold pen
~ Move ALL items downstairs by TODAY
~ DO NOT lose temper and kill (name of a student who got on your nerves)

(Taken from a to do list in 2008)
~ Submit application
~ Get the right adapter this time
~ Finalise invitation designs
~ Buy tape
~ CONTROL YOURSELF and refrain from strangling (name of a different student who got on your nerves)

5. Sign that you've embraced yet another culture (guess which one)
You got over your fear of karaoke and enjoy songs by MYMP, Rivermaya, Side-A, Christian Bautista, Gary Valenciano, Regine Velasquez and so many others. Heck, your alarm ring tone is even a song taken from a particular Nescafe commercial by Bamboo. You wish that your family plus extended can be more close-knit and boisterious sometimes. And you also can't get enough of sweet treats in the form of polvorons (pinipig flavour especially) from Goldilocks, leche flans drenched in as much caramel as (super)humanly possible and halo halos.

6. Sign that maybe your children will treat you more as a friend than mom
You secretly like High School Musical and think Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron are a very sweet couple.

7. Or maybe not
Who the heck are the Jonas Brothers again?

8. Sign that you have to do better at battling gradual memory loss
You buy several bottles of vitamin, calcium, fish oil, lecithin supplements as well as a dietry supplement "with target mind performance nutrients" but only to despair at misplacing them somewhere inside the house. Then you realise later, with much irritation, that you didn't take them out from the car in the first place.

Always remember...

2009-01-17T01:10:00.000+08:00

... that you let go first, not me.

Get with the Festivities

2008-12-24T22:20:00.004+08:00

I've lost count of the number of times I heard the sms alert tone on my phone go off. All from people and organisations Wishing Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year ahead. While I'm suppose to be happy, my heart sank as none of the sms was from you. The one that matters the most to me. But it's okay, because 1) there's still Christmas Day tommorrow and 2) I'd wish you that instead of waiting.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

If I'd discovered Twitter years ago...

2008-09-18T00:28:00.005+08:00

(in no particular order and assuming I'd to post several parts for longer updates) I'd probably say:

- My average daily sleep hours dropped from 7h to about 4h.
- I'd completed a marathon in about 6hours without much practise. Never want to do something like that ever again unless I trained properly prior to the run.
- I'd a brief period of insanity which involved way too much vodka and in the process experienced my first time being genuinely and hopelessly wasted. I just slept like a log after spouting all kinds of gibberish.
- My class grew from 4 students to 8 students (within a year) and went back to 4 students this year.
- I contemplated moving on/out/on/out/on etc in my personal life countless times
- I thirst for inner peace
- I started going to church a year ago
- To date, I crashed my car a total of 3 times. Once, at the back, once on the right side, and the other time on the left side.
- My new tv idol crush is now Daniel Phillip Henney ever since I'd watched the Korean movie, Seducing Mr Perfect. I still like Utt though.
- I paused Bollywood dancing until I can find a more regular class to attend and in the meantime, took up pole dancing. Thank goodness there is a course that's focused on the fitness aspects of it instead of the choreographed pussycat dolls types. Trust me, I have problems doing convincing sexy.
- I stopped my weekly runs until my knees get better. But I still participate in major runs. Latest being the Nike Human Race.
- I pondered over seeing a chiropractor to correct my (very highly suspected) Scoliosis, but chickened out many times.
- I have been proposed to. The moment by the beach in the evening with cool breeze and the whole romantic aspects of it, was forever marred when I blurted, "Sh*t, you're not proposing to me are you?"

And that's about it so far.

You know it's been way too long when....

2008-06-19T23:56:00.006+08:00

you have completely forgotten your blogger password.

Just read some previous entries and was amazed at how happy go lucky I used to be. Alot had happened in the career and social fronts, but it's time to walk the road to recovery (scars and all). Can't really say that I'm back for sure, but I do miss chucking in random notes like this after having spent a couple minutes plus + plus worth of password trial and error.

Rest

2007-08-30T04:02:00.000+08:00

"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you, not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. " - John 14:27

I read this verse countless times today as I lay slumped on the sofa with a raging headache and a rapidly beating heart, too sick to move my body, yet mentally too active to meditate. Previous incidences replayed and imagined futures flashed. Having a million and one whirling thoughts has never been bothersome, for I've adapted to this condition like how diabetes adapted to lifelong condition of low insulin, but as of today it became a burden.

I suppose it'd to take a triple dosage of poor physical health, high stress work day and a very ruffled household scene to come home to at the end of the day to finally make me feel devoid of rousing emotions. No anxiety, no sadness, no fear. My body is finally at rest, at least from fatigue, and I pray that my mind will be at rest too.

When others' milestone is mine

2007-06-27T10:45:00.000+08:00

Attended yet another wedding but it was one that I'd never forget... because the bride is one of my dearest friends.

It has been a decade and a half since I approached the quiet girl with the comic sans handwriting to write something in my autograph book. And it has been three Saturdays since I scribbled my chicken scratches in her wedding book.

Unlike other couple unions I'd witnessed before, I fought back tears at her solemnization. Not because my toe was stabbed by someone's high heel shoe, but for the first time in my life, I felt so much joy that no amount of goofy grinning would suffice. We may not communicate regularly over the years, but we still managed to catch up once in a blue (purple, green, rainbow polka-dotted) moon. There was a time when my world virtually collapsed and she made it a point to see me through that period of pain. Far from offering suggestions on how to manage or solve my woes, she pitched creative ideas of how to torture my enemies. Strangely enough, it worked (even though her suggestions were never implemented).

True friends are a treasured find and having just one, already makes you wealthy beyond material possessions. She was there for me at the most depressing point in my life, and all I have to do was to be there for her at her one of her life's happiest moment. What more can you ask for? In her own way, she gave meaning to the million and one inspirational quotes found on greeting cards.

I wish her all the happiness and bliss that marriage could bring into her life. And just in case the husband fell short of fulfilling his duties, I'd be more than ready to share with her some of my own malevolent ideas.

A Romantic Blog Entry

2007-02-22T02:22:00.000+08:00

(I lied)

'tis the season to get married fa la la la lah, la la la lah.

Start of a New Year and I already have invitations to three wedding. Attended one last month and another one two Sundays ago and I'm still reeling from the 8-10 course dinners. I'm officially thrust into another phase of my life where marriage is THE topic of conversations after those halcyon days of 'My Little Pony', 'She Ra', birthday parties, boy bands, teachers with eternal PMS, and the not-so-halcyon days of school rankings, graduation and career.

Recently asked a friend whose wedding is due in a couple of months about her preparation status and she gave the coolest answer, "It's just a wedding." She's right. We can get so caught up with all the nitty-grittys of Hollywood theatrics and commercialised norms that we may forget to give the quiet reality that comes after the "I love you."/ "I do" its due importance. Such as arguing over television channels or whose turn it is to clean the toilet.

Just thinking about marriage is already giving me the jitters. Before fretting over the ceremonial bit, getting the right partner is key and, depending on the kind of stuff you're brainwashed with while growing up, finding someone who meets both your logical and emotional list of criteria is as easy as walking through a wall of fire in your birthday suit and drenched in petroleum.

This reminded me of a movie synopsis.

There are three kinds of married people in the world.

First, whose marriages are arranged, I've never quite understood that, but I'm sure they know what they're doing.

Then there are those who fall in love and marry their soul mates. These I believe, are the most fortunate people in the world.

And lastly, there are those couples that marry for their parents, for money or play it safe and marry a friend. These are the most unfortunate ones in the world, and they don't even know it.

It's hard to fathom what a soul mate really is, especially when it's elusive to many. But ironically, a Ctrl F7 on the phrase "soul mate" yielded "friend", "pal", "playmate", "companion", "partner" and "chum". Thus, I shall continue to leave it to divine providence and maybe a little bit of creative romancing.

I admit after having witnessed a barrage of weddings and fuzzy wuzzy hearts, I could not help ponder about the art of romance. Sure, romance is one of love's catalyst, but there are just too many worn out SOPs (standard operating procedure) around.

Look at Valentine's Day, while the hearts, ribbons, pinks, reds and chocolates make nice accessories, I don't understand what's the obsession about having a date on the day that's hyped up by evil card makers *ahem*Hallmark *cough*, retailers and restaurants to wring us dry of our consumer dollars. Unless maybe... if you're a girl and you'd hoped for some free dinner on that day or something. But fine dining with servings that disappear after barely three inhalations at ridiculous prices is not my thing.

Anyway, for the record, I did have a DATE. And it got very hot and sweaty in the process.
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.
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Hey.

You would be too if you ran about 5km and then end it off with dinner at a prata place.

And when it comes to fresh flowers, I firmly believe that they belong to the ground they once grew. So whenever I receive those bouquets, well-meaning senders would be left feeling as if they just run over a lonely granny's one and only pet. Musical serenade is acceptable but please knock me out if I have to listen to a rendition that goes all melodramatic like "I'll fight for you, I'll lie for you, walk the wire for you, I'll die for you..."

Maybe I'm just emotionally constipated. Hardly anything moves me nowadays but fortunately, there had been a few spark plugs that reminded me that I'm still capable of human emotion like Edwin McCain's songs and the 'The Pickle King' play by a theatre group from New Zealand called Indian Ink Company. It's been weeks since I watched the show, but its ending message still echoes.

"The secret to preserving love, is to simply make it fresh everyday."

For folks who still wake up everyday with hearts fluttering at the thought of your beloved, keep up the good work. For couples who had to think hard about the last time you felt that way, it might be time to add some zing in the relationship before it's too late. So how fresh is your love?

Energy Shortage

2007-01-17T18:17:00.000+08:00

Can't believe that it's nearing two weeks. Where did the time go again? I didn't write any reports and I barely touched the reading lesson plan that is due tomorrow. The greatest thing I'd accomplished last weekend was finding a figure-flattering day dress that spares me from sweeping the floor with its hem as I walk.

School was spent scurrying from one place to another while keeping tabs of a growing list of administrative 'to dos'. When the students leave for the day and all is quiet, I sink into my seat to accompany my laptop in its screen saver mode. At least for about a minute until someone enters the classroom. I actually like being kept occupied at all times because I mope whenever I'm idle for too long, but that might be taking its toil. Just today, a concerned colleague asked if I was getting enough sleep as I seemed to have a perpetual dazed look and was answered with, "Huh? Sorry, what was it you said?"

Something is amiss lately, it felt like something is leeching off my energy. Was out of breath after climbing several flights of stairs when normally that would not have bothered me. I even caught myself micro sleeping in odd places and yet remained wide awake when I lay down. I looked at the video of my first Bollywood show stint last September and I was shocked at the vast difference between then and now.

Spot Pari? (Video glitch - movement and song do not sync)

Maybe it's about time I have that cup of coffee every morning for a buzz kickstart.

2006 and the whatevers - Sri Lanka and Serenity, School and Sanity

2007-01-07T04:23:00.000+08:00

I was in a state of bliss upon my return from Sri Lanka. The trip was organised by World Vision for sponsors to visit the children of an area development project (ADP). For S$45 a month, the child sponsor funds the community/village that child belongs to. The World Vision team works within chosen communities and provide them with the tools, infrastructure and skills to eventually become self-sufficient. I was not a child sponsor then but I returned inspired. Eventually, I became a sponsor - of a girl from Sri Lanka and a boy from Myanmar.

School term resumed and I moved my gazillion and million things from my co-teacher's class into my brand new class on second floor after spending about a week cleaning and repairing the place. Then came the sorting and figuring out where I'm going to ~~stuff~~ put those very gazillion and million things everyday after school for the next month.

My students and I were finally getting used to the new set up when the co-teacher I worked with resigned. She decided to migrate to Australia with her husband and I'm the most obvious candidate to take her place. After long deliberation between my nearly completed classroom and a particular student in a wheelchair who could not possibly use the stairs, I chose to return to the very same classroom I happily moved out of. All the shifting in, cleaning up and on-going decoration has given me a great sense of ownership and (not to mention) pride. I was blinking back tears when the official announcement was made at the teachers' meeting but I'm thankful that I was informed early. It would take a couple of crowbars to pry me away from that class if I really settled in.

I was to remain in my (now) temporary class until the teacher last day in school in December. I was probably low on morale because I simply stopped tidying and chucked the remaining items in a pile at a corner of the room.

Then there was the task of organising the school's annual Christmas Concert after losing two veteran members of the organising team to pregnancy leave and the other to migration. Planning started months in advance and rehearsals were intense. It was a unique challenge working with special needs students. There were plenty of headaches and frayed nerves, but there were also colourful moments. The concert's main aim is for every student to participate and for everyone to have some fun on the last day of school. I know that it's a special day for all, and that I should not be so hard on myself, but I fretted over every little thing and there was never a day that I did not feel my blood pressure rise. Whether it was a) wanting the day to be great for everyone while forgetting about making it great for myself or b) wanting to prove my worth to everyone else, I still do not know.

I might have entered the dreaded burnout stage. Sometimes my hands would quiver for no reason and everybody ceased talking sense. It felt like there was a wedge in my brain leaving me incapable of clear thinking. I was exhausted and yet I could not sleep. It finally got better when school holiday rolled in.

At least my mental sanity was saved. If only I can say the same for my inner well-being.

(More ramblings to come)

2006 and the whatevers - Prologue

2007-01-07T03:32:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, right at that moment, you may recall a dream you once had. The kind that you would not (or want to) recall on any normal day. I spent a long while pondering over my dream... mainly because it's in a hideous jumble, and trying to convince myself that every ~~nerve~~ earth-shattering event is a character building block even though they rained down on me all at once like a ton of bricks.

Year 2006 (and some of 2005) has been nothing short of a dream for me. Now that it has finally made an exit, I am a little more motivated to get that new diary (the one with the crazy array of migraine-causing polka dots), slow down my pace and...

...update this blog.

Even though it's too late, would still like to wish everybody a Happy and Blessed New Year. Thank you so much for the notes, concern and well wishes. I admit that the later part of 2006 had been nothing short of crappy. Whenever the going gets tough, I retreat into my shell and let the waves roll over me till I lay completely buried beneath layers of sand. However, a dear friend's chance discovery of a photo on the same day as my long awaited reunion gathering managed to jolt me out of my silent self-destruct mode. Their common topic: Sri Lanka. Coincidence or not, I chose to believe that it has come a full circle and I ought to pick up from where I left off online as well as offline.

Emotional lows, 3kg weight gain(bingeing cookies by the bucket + non-existent gym activity), career jitters and anxiety aside, I'm back. Hello 2007. And once again, hello everyone!

La La, Sri Lanka

2006-09-02T00:04:00.000+08:00

Am at the airport terminal. Going in soon. See ya all soon!

First Cross Country Run

2006-08-20T12:19:00.000+08:00

Bored with endless running around tracks, I signed up for the New Balance Real Run at Sentosa to see how far I can push my limit. With 6km on road, 1.6km on sand and 2.4km on trail, it was far more challenging than the 10km Standard Chartered Run. I was in awe of so many strong runners. One guy pushed past me and I noticed that he was wearing a South Park shirt. It read, "Oh man, you people suck!" I might consider getting one of those shirts once I manage to complete 10km in 40 minutes.

There were also slopes galore and I barely survived by the time we entered the beach. I never thought that I would come out alive after having to ~~run~~ ~~speed walk~~ trod on sand for the next couple of agonising minutes. It's already fortunate that I did not fall on my face.

And my runny nose did not help. I stuffed my shorts with lots of tissue paper just in case I had to drop out midway due to choking on mucus.

Pre-race warm up

By the time I passed the 8.8km mark, my stamina was nearly spent and I deteriorated into auto-pilot. Finally came those magical words, "500m left!" I just wanted to get it done and over with so I ran my heart out, tripping two runners along the way.

There was no shortage of toilets, and as the finishing line drew closer, a conversation was overheard.

"I can't! I can't! I got to go now!"
"What, are you crazy?! The finishing line is just over there, you can't go now."
"I'm about to explode... can't take it anymore. You go on ahead."

Talk about bad timing. Anyway, I completed the race in a little over an hour, which is not too shabby considering I walked the entire sand route.

A most annoying feeling

2006-08-15T08:03:00.000+08:00

That frog in my throat must have decided to throw a party and invite the entire neighbourhood. I hate phlegm that's lodged so deep that no amount of bulimic sounds I make can get rid of it. So in a bid to overcome this discomfort, I've been forcing myself to take medicine regularly instead of relying solely on natural healing process. However, that resulted in my head feeling numb and an overwhelming urge to bang my forehead on the table. Being sick is one of the worst things to happen to me because it means I end up working and feeling less than 100%.

I have a deep set fear of becoming physically inactive because it means more restrictions to an already suffocating, rule-dominated life. I sprained my right shoulder from a break fall mishap and subsequent days were spent in agony as I gently rolled my injured shoulder to keep it from becoming frozen. While I disliked having my movements restricted, I disliked pain more so I endured. On one particularly bad night when I wanted to roll over to a more comfortable position in bed, I was jolted out of sleep and I finally burst into tears. Not from pain, but from frustration. Just as well that I was already crying since I spent the next couple of minutes waving my arm wildly in all directions because I was determined not let the pain stop me from gaining control of my normal self. I woke up the next morning with only a dull ache and I had a weird triumphant grin the rest of the day convinced that I successfully shocked my body into cooperating.

I don't suppose it's a good idea to hit my throat or gurgle hot water to get rid of phlegm. But I'm open to experiment if I do not feel any better.

National Day 2006

2006-08-09T23:15:00.000+08:00

It's that time of the year again when red and white flags outnumber red and white sale signs. I wanted to write a whole load of stuff (mainly my undying love for its local delicacy, chicken rice) to re-affirm my loyalty to my adopted country, but it just occurred to me that the colours on this blog said it all.

Happy Birthday Singapore!

A camera shy student at our school's National Day celebration.

Pari learns that she is wimp intolerant

2006-08-07T00:04:00.000+08:00

On a lovely Sunday morning, I pulled into MacRitchie Reservoir car park 5 minutes late. I had such wonderful sleep that I was not able to tear myself away from my lovely bed and soft pillow.

Car park was full and I was left circling the area for the next 15 minutes. However, it is lovely to know that lots of people do lead active lives and seeing several groups of people returning to their cars felt even better.

A group of young men entered a car and I waited... waited.... and waited. I pulled up beside them and asked if they were going to leave. One of them replied, "We have to rest first."

Since when resting on a bench while enjoying fresh air was not an option? It was too lovely a Sunday to have my blood boiling first thing in the morning so I continued with my search for an elusive lot. Finally, I found one and made my way to the kayak launch area.

I was paired with a newcomer who has a lovely habit of paddling for 1 minute and resting for the next 10. When he did paddle, he would sent water splashing in my face as I was directly behind him. We veered off course many times due to current and I did my best to steer by plunging my paddle into the water to create a drag. However, it was becoming a chore. I saw him resting again and suggested that we swap paddles since mine was smaller and lighter than his in hope that this could encourage him to paddle more.

Sadly, my lovely plan did not work and he complained that it was easier at the previous kayaking session. I replied that it was expected since his partner was a seasoned kayaker. It was still too lovely a Sunday to add, "you lazy moron" after that reply.

As I hear him whine about how tired he was from little sleep and see him lie back on the kayak, I could also feel my arms muscles scream in agony. We were approaching several overhanging branches so I prepared to steer our kayak away.

"Could you turn the kayak a little more to the left? The sun's in my eye."

That was when I lifted the paddle out of the water, sending the front half of the kayak and him right into the tangled mass of branches.

Lovely....

Italia! Day Three

2006-08-06T20:25:00.000+08:00

Day Three of Italy was spent in the outskirts and lots of dozing of along the way. We dropped by charming Siena for some walking along steep slopes and maze like alleyways, then proceeded to a town most commonly used as resting area for travellers going to and from England, San Gimignano (Ji mi ne-e-ah no).

Siena is a quiet town and 2 hours drive from Florence. It was an important political centre in the early centuries and populated by powerful rival families and their loyal followers.

Siena from a hill

Close up of a church.

Killing time outside a hotel in Siena.

Siena's Doumo. Zebra stripes on buildings are a common sight in Italy as they are the colours of the Government. That makes it easy for anyone to tell the political monument from the regular.

From another angle.

Painters and maintenance crew are employed full time to upkeep the Doumo. Judging from its size, the task is never-ending.

Peek-a-boo! How about a clay statue standing at the window 24 hours?

Entrance to a church near one of Italy's oldest university.

The Piazza del Campo, is at the heart of Siena and the site of the "Palio" horse races that take place in July and August.

When the sun's out in full force and you've no shelter whatsoever.. improvise!

Rival neighbourhoods clearly marked in colours.

Can you sense the law and order of this place?

Time to head on to our next destination!

Stepping into San Gimignano is like stepping into the medieval age when knights roamed and peasants droned. It's also famous throughout Italy for its white wine, Vernaccia di San Gimignano. I'm not an expert on wines but my dad seemed to like it.

It is tempting to stay in a house like this.

Was half-expecting the Knights of Templar to appear on their steeds.

Too bad the shirts were arranged the wrong way.

Speaking of dessert, I confess to eating gelato everyday when I was in Italy.

I was just drawn to this painting. A judge holds court for the poor as the rich are never too far away to tempt him with gold.

Would like to demonstrate how strong the town's wall really is.

Love those creeping vines

There's a lone well in the Piazza. Sealed. Probably to prevent strange tourists from falling in.

When you're in Italy during World Cup, you cannot escape the excitement. That day was the Semi Finals - Italy VS Germany

This was what we saw on our way back. The atmosphere was electrifying and it was only the Semi.

Imagine me standing on my tippy toes with arms stretched as high as I could muster while taking this shot.

A football fanatic in the making. Go Team Italia.

Everyone wants to get the best view!

Brothers. Anticipating and sharing in a global sports phenomenon.

That's it for Day 3. Beautiful Venice is in the next instalment. My favourite city in Italy at the moment.

In a class of her own

2006-07-31T19:10:00.000+08:00

New school term and a new classroom.

Sort of.

A cosy classroom, left behind by a retired teacher, was left unoccupied since the beginning of the year. At that time, I was adjusting to a new life teaching adolescents instead of kindergarteners alongside another teacher.

"What would you say if I were to tell you that the empty classroom on second floor is yours to move into anytime?" my Principal asked me one fine day in February.

"That's wonderful..." and I was suddenly gripped with cold feet."erm... but I'll like more time to settle in and learn a couple more things from Ms Vicky*."

"I understand, just let me know when you're ready to have your own classroom. Frankly, I think you're more than ready for the big league."

I loved being a team teacher and having the freedom to move from one class to another as I could interact with students from a huge range of age groups and developments. I get nervous at the prospect of having my own classroom because I have commitment issues. Not only will it be a long-term commitment of the chosen age group, I will also have to bear full responsibility for all students in the classroom. So it is always assuring to have another teacher around just in case.

And I'll be no better than a child who is not willing to part with her training wheels.

First Term left and in came Second Term. I have three students with very different potentials and temperaments directly under my care. A typical snapshot during maths would comprise of me guiding the first in counting coins, answering a bar graph question of the second while discouraging the third from either sleeping on his subtraction worksheet or calling my name incessantly in hope that I'd relent and tell him the answers. Before I knew it, there was a mini classroom within a classroom.

I entered school one morning and found out that Ms Vicky and a teacher's assistant were both on medical leave thanks to flu. I was left on my own with not three, but eight students in that class and a million and one possibilites of how things can go dreadfully wrong. The training wheels were ripped off but I survived.

I remembered the time I had the courage to cycle without training wheels. My dad would hold the bicycle as I nervously pedalled.

"Why are you looking back at me for? You won't learn that way! Just keep pedalling."

"Are you still there daddy?" I asked.

"Yes, yes I'm here. Pedal faster!"

So I did. "Is this okay daddy?"

No answer.

"Dad?"

No way that he could not hear me.

"Daddy?!" I hollered and turned around, "Daddy why didn't...." and my dad was standing metres behind waving both his hands at me. That was when I panicked and fell over. I was furious at my dad, but I also learnt that it was okay to fall. All I needed to do was to pick myself up and try again.

I still cannot believe that in 2 hours, it'll be August. During the last week of school vacation, I visited school to prepare for lessons and new teaching inventories for the Third Term. It was quiet without the students and I was alone in Ms Vicky's classroom. I arranged the students' desks, stacked their respective books and reviewed my lesson plans. I glanced across to Ms Vicky's part of the classroom and recalled the times she walked over to ask if I needed any help.

Just how much longer do I need someone to hold the bicycle as I pedal?

I quickly marched to the Principal's office before I had any second thoughts and told her that I was ready to have my own class. She smiled and there is no turning back.

Today was the teacher's workshop and tomorrow is the students' first day back at school. I will continue to use part of Ms Vicky's classroom as there are still lots to be done but I managed to clean out half of that cosy classroom. It should be all set up by end August where it will be a cosy learning environment for five lovely students. I have never felt so excited and petrified in my entire life.

Nevertheless, I believe it was the best decision I ever made... even with all the anxiety and lost appetite.

I need to lie down.

Italia! Day One & Two

2006-07-30T18:04:00.000+08:00

Finally some pictures as promised. Spent the first three days in Florence (main city in Tuscany) and the remaining days in Venice and Milan which I'll post later.

My excitement of visiting Italy didn't wavier very much even after I was told by an Italian gentleman on the plane to guard my bags with my life. "It's those gypsies, I tell you! Be very careful, they are cunning." he warned and I strategised over how I could outmanoeuvre a gypsy mom from shoving her baby in my arms without letting the poor little one fall to the ground.

Upon disembarkation, my first culture shock was a total disregard for queues (I sound too much like a good law-abiding Singaporean). There were only 2 counters opened and the lines that stretched across the hall looked like they could rival ticket line to some rock star's one night only concert. 5 minutes into waiting, a third line magically appeared out of no where and slowly inched its way into the legitimate second line. "Don't let them in!" Mom hissed to our neighbours in the second line as the scums homed in the gaps. I was already squeezed close enough to the fellow in front of me to know that he is the type who perspires at the drop of a hat and that he tried to cover the source of embarrassment with cologne. One more counter opened and the queues reshuffled themselves into a legitimate three. However, before we could relax, a magical fourth line appeared and the drama continued.

I could not recall how long the bus journey was from the airport in Milan to Florence because I was too busy catching up on lost sleep. When we arrived, it was not what I expected. Considering Florence is supposed to be the centre of the arts and the place where world renowned Michelangelo Buonarroti was from, the city felt distant and swarmed with eager tourists and just as enthusiastic street peddlers. Or maybe we came at the wrong time of year...

Counterfiet goods right outside shops selling the real deal.

A contrast between the old world and the new world.

Roads are about a century old. Its surface polished smooth by millions of walkers.

The very important Cathedral (or Duomo) of Florence. It has a bell tower and we were around the area in the evening when the bells rang in musical harmony.

Look up Mr Pigeon. You're perched on the 4th largest cathedral in the world which took nearly a century to build.

Selling art by the Duomo and the seeing the world go by. Not a bad life at all.

There are lots of bicycles in Italy as it's a very convenient way of getting around the maze of streets.

Italians don't like to wash their cars very much even though they painstakingly dress themselves with style.

One can almost compare the tone of voice to a kid on sugar rush. Happpyyyyy Hour!

Never once did he look up. Has to be one very interesting read.

I see dog, I take picture of dog.

Mom sees daughter, mom takes picture of daughter. At least she wasn't standing behind me.

The evening sun on the way back to the hotel was scorching so I took refuge in every possible shade.

It's a doorknob and there's lots more where that came from.

I liked the visits to museums and art galleries around the city though. Michelangelo's sculpture of David (too bad photo-taking is not allowed) is housed in Galleria Dell'Academia and it was awe inspiring. I could even see the veins on David's hands and his look of concentration (or is it contemplation) before putting the stone in his slingshot was mesmerising.

Long queue outside the Galleria Dell'Academia for those without reservation. Fortunately my group has a reservation (which has to be booked at least 1 week in advance) so we didn't have to wait too long.

Get your very own masterpiece for just 20 Euro.

"You're from Japan?" a seller asked me.
"No, from Singapore." I replied.
"Ah... Singapore... Singapore... Singapore.... near Japan yes?"
"Yes... just like Australia."

Day Two was a trip to Pisa. If Florence is filled with tourists, Pisa is bursting at its seams. Our guide admits that Pisans owe their livelihoods to the mistake that one architect made on the construction of their famous tower. That guy fled the scene before the tower was completed when he realised the ground was too sandy to support a huge structure.

Quick fact - Do you know that...

other than the Leaning Tower...

This leans.

That leans.

...everything leans in Pisa! It's true and it's all thanks to its soft ground.

Here's another quick fact. The University of Pisa is one of the most renowned Italian universities and offers a wide range of courses except for *ahem* architecture for very good reason.

Everybody doing their bit to "save" the tower. Cliche poses all in a row.

Sharing should start from a young age as demonstrated by this sweet child.

Inside the Baptistery of Pisa. It's customary to cover up when entering a place of worship. Disposable sheets are always ready at the door for bare-shoulder visitors.

We had dinner in a Tuscan countryside. Such a lovely garden and just the place to spoil with dramatics.

It gets better in the countryside and everything you see in the movie Under the Tuscan Sky is true. One thing for sure, I adore the slender cypress trees. Note to myself the next time I visit Italy. Head straight for the countryside and forget the cities.

I bet the scenery is most breath-taking in Spring.

Day 3 coming soon.

Humanity

2006-07-24T19:51:00.000+08:00

(seen on Postsecret)

I think so too.

Running out of....

2006-07-22T01:11:00.000+08:00

patience.

How long does it take to upload a miserable photo via an ancient PC? Half hour! And that's only after countless error messages. Think I'm just going to wait for Fufu's return from the computer hospital.

Onto another matter of similar hair-tearing proportion, a letter arrived in the mail from the organisers of Shape Run. Probably some consolation letter since I didn't participate in the event because I waited too long to register. I did not think much of it even though the letter arrived nearly a week after the actual run. I also managed to shrug off my surname getting mis-spelt since I grew up in a country where 7 out of 10 people (though no fault of theirs) butcher my name on a regular basis.

The letter reads.

UNSUCCESSFUL APPLICATION

We have received your registration for the Shape Run 2006. We regret to inform you that due to an overwhelming response, we are unable to accept any more registrations, including yours, for safety reasons.

Alright fine. I had that thing coming anyway. But I wished that they could at least either reply my emails enquiring about my application status or answer the phone when I called.

The letter continues.

However, to thank you for your interest and support in the Shape Run, we are pleased to present you with a free Shape Run Appreciation Gift Bag as a gesture of our appreciation.

Oh that's nice of them. Now I got to know when to collect that Gift bag.

Simply present this original letter to collect your Gift Bag at:

The Shape Run Carnival
Marina Square atrium, Organiser's booth
14-16 July (Fri-Sun)
11am - 7pm

And the day I received the letter? 22 July.

I looked at the envelope and date stamped was 22 June. I was so in awe of our postal service's level of efficiency that the veins beneath my temples were on the verge of popping. *breathes into paper bag*

I suppose constructive feedback to the event organisers and Singpost are in order.

Milestone

2006-07-18T18:20:00.000+08:00

I like birthdays because it gives you an excuse to get back in touch with folks without feeling too awkward.

After a year of living life in semi-seclusion, I am blessed to have friends who continued to knock at my door even when they're only greeted with either half-heartedness or silence . It is this sort of unconditional friendship that should be treasured.

As my birthday came around and well-wishers (some I haven't spoken to in a long time) sprinkled my day with greetings, I slowly got back into initiating meet ups. Maybe that's why birthdays are such big deals since they are means of bringing people together to celebrate one's life and not some worldwide occasion.

So many things have transpired since the last birthday and I'm healing well from the pain and trauma even if it is at the cost of a limited social life. Still can't believe that a year has passed but then again, I am glad that there is a perpetual milestone that reminds me to look ahead. Perhaps it is time to remove those chains for good and re-build relationships with those who matter.

Italia Prelude: From Here to There

2006-07-17T09:22:00.000+08:00

Pari gets reminded (for the next 11 hours) of why she hates flying.

~ 0 ~

Hang in there, don't go anywhere.

Of Jet Lags and Computer Lags

2006-07-12T03:02:00.000+08:00

My watch says 3am while my bio clock insists it's 9pm. Tuesday was a blur as I crammed 15 lessons worth of signing vocabulary, sentences and passages into my sleep-deprived brain in preparation for the sign language test at night. I had only myself to blame for forgetting to bring my study notes along with me to Italy. The long coach rides around the country could've been used more constructively. Thanks to a combination of jet lag and last minute preparation, I blotched several easy questions. But it's over for now. I can choose to lay down in bed and await a house call from Mr Sandman but there is more urgent matter at hand.

My beloved FuFu the laptop is dying.

As it's coughing up one blue screen after another, I race against time to rescue as many files as I can by transferring them into an external hard drive. Progress is nothing to be desired as the copying process is as fast as a three-legged sloth with its feet in cement. FuFu has also taken on a habit of freezing without warning, which prompted numerous restarts and increasingly frayed nerves. Its fan blows non-stop even at rest and fearing it might overheat, I helped quail its fever by fanning it with a plastic fan my mom got as freebie from an Indian airline.

Thank goodness I have a desktop computer to work on as FuFu's internet connection is also dead. As I'm typing, I'm nearly halfway with backing up my Picture folder. All 10Gb worth of memories that span over 4 years. Let the rest perish but the picture files must stay. I'm a desperate sentimental fool.

Perhaps I can comfort myself that FuFu is not willing to go just yet since it can still read the external drive and transfer a couple of files over before it hangs.

Anyway, back to fanning. Hope that isn't smoke I'm smelling.

Mama M.I.A.

2006-07-10T13:01:00.000+08:00

Arigato-aaaah! (a peculiar Italian way of greeting wide-eyed, camera-toting tourists like yours truly.) I'm back and trying to figure if my nausea is due to the 11 hours (Milan - Bangkok) + 2 hours (Bangkok - Singapore) of hair-raisingly turbulent flight or food overload from previous days.

Anyway, it's good to be back - Back home, and back on solid ground. *kisses pillow and floor* Can finally have a peaceful sleep but I'd better not dream about pasta later as there are other things more embarrassing than peeing in one's bed.

(updated)
I agree that it was too subtle. There are too many unmentionable things one can do in one's sleep.

Here's one that I hope won't ever happen to me:

(taken from Design for Chucks)

See ya soon!

2006-07-01T17:50:00.000+08:00

Whee hee!!

Ageless

2006-06-30T02:30:00.000+08:00

Since Hitomi entered my life, I graduated from the strain of waiting for public transport to the arduous task of hunting for available parking spaces. Admittedly, I enjoyed the convenience of zipping all over Singapore, and avoid having to sweat buckets in its humid weather. However, that also meant that I bypass the little things that come along during my quiet walks home.

Feeling restless, I left Hitomi behind as I walked into town to collect my replacement gym card. On the way back, I passed a vendor selling ice cream for just a dollar.

List of flavour includes local varieties like red bean and yam. Buyers can choose having their ice cream in a cup, sandwiched between thin wafers or wrapped in a slice of bread.

I quickly made my choice. For one dollar, I had a huge slab of raspberry ice cream and a whispered 'thank you' from an old seller with a gentle smile.

As usual, my stomach reacted quicker than my brain. By the time the idea to take a picture of my sweet indulgence popped in, there were already a couple of ugly bite marks on it. Coincidentally, I stopped right in front of a mega giant antithesis to the pushcart store. Having to ponder between premium decadence (with an equally premium price tag) and budget-friendly light goodness, I was contented with the choice in my hand. Given the charmingly local feel of ice cream pushcart stores dotted around the island, I think I can continue to have my $1 ice cream fix for a long time.

Walking with added springs in my steps, I delighted at how quiet the roads were. Even with my pace slowed to half its speed, I still passed several people. Then as I was ready to overtake another group, I just had to stop and stalk.

Doesn't it remind one of a familiar picture on selected notebooks?

I've grown immune to lovely-dovey dating couples and married folks. But this heart-warming sight gave bitter-sweet feelings. I've asked myself many times whether I can ever be fortunate enough to share this stage of bliss with someone.

I wanted to take a 20 questions Soul Mates test I found online once upon a time, but never managed to complete it because I got lazy, complacent and eventually disheartened. My faltered faith is not with Love, but with its agents. Young loves bubble over with raw energy but without maturity to control that passion, it can burn. Long time loves with intimacy can also fall apart because people take each other for granted. A married life does not guarantee security either. Just ask those who strayed.

My parents had their share of quarrels and cold wars but for two headstrong people, they are still going strong. High-strung Mom becomes relaxed whenever Dad is in her presence while Dad never forgets to send flowers to Mom every Anniversary. There were also a couple of times I saw Mom snuggling up to Dad on the sofa.

However, couples in their golden years are more endearing because they are like a complete entity. With surface beauty all faded, what is left is seeing beauty in each other's souls. You can also put them in a three-legged race and it would look like they have been doing that all their lives, completely in sync with each other. Call it coincidence, but noticed the old couple's foot steps? The man looked like a fast walker because he is always slightly ahead of his wife but since she walked with a limp, he remained by her side.

I envy couples with more than 40 years of togetherness. Precious gems such as Ruby, Emerald and Diamond that mark these milestones were selected for a reason. Gems take a long time to form but they are everlasting. Moreover, trials and tribulations polished them into becoming the glittering perfections that they are.

My grandparents belong to an era where showing tiny affections such as holding hands in public were unconventional so they show it differently, my paternal grandfather (Dad's Father= DF) teased his wife mercilessly in front of friends and family. Couple of times, it went overboard so she leaned over and hit him firmly on his arm. He would chuckle and then stopped his teasing. At least for the day.

It was just over a decade since he passed on, and Alzheimer's disease is slowly eroding DM (Dad's Mom) once sharp mind. As she slipped deeper into memory lapses to the point of forgetting the names of her grandchildren, she could remember, her eyes still brimming with tears, DF in vivid detail.

And there is my maternal grandmother (Mom's Mom = MM). I could not remember my maternal grandfather (MF) because he passed away when I was barely 2 years old. However, MM keeps a picture of him in her purse and whether she opens it, it's the first thing she sees. Mom said that even till now, MM still thinks of him everyday.

Both grandmothers hang on tightly to memories of their loves because without these memories, it is as good as not existing most their lives and being dead for the rest. I cannot imagine living a life as the one who survived the partner. Having to live each year at a time and wondering if it's going to be the year I reunite with my love. I wish for my life partner's health to remain robust long enough so that he can throw in the towel at the same time as I and we don't have to separate for too long. Maybe only a couple of minutes apart, just like twins at birth. We'll look like we're asleep in each other's arms just like any lazy Sunday as we transcend from this world to the next - together, hand in hand. I can go into greater details during the final ten minutes but I'll stop before I turn too morbid. Here we have people fantasising about weddings, and I fantasise about death...

I guess something as precious as Love is at its most beautiful when it is also at its most fragile. Not because of its decline, but of Life's transience.

Nevertheless, in all its forms, some things remain ageless.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.
How do you measure a year in the life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love
Seasons of love
- Rent

How a Smart Alec Got Away

2006-06-26T15:40:00.000+08:00

Bryan is often in a world of his own and snaps to attention only when he hears someone reading the public bus guide. On playful days, he engages teachers in games of hide and seek, Little Zimbeenee behind the curtain and ponders over the possibility of ever seeing a ghost bus.

On a particularly playful day, Bryan was caught writing 'bastard' on his book. Oh no, naughty Bryan! As punishment, he has to write lines! On a sheet of paper, he read his instruction.

I will not say bad words <----- Write this sentence 50 times.

So he was left alone to write his lines. Ten minutes later, the teacher came to him. "How is it coming along?"

"Marvellous!" he replied, "Eleven more words to go!"

A closer look at Bryan's marvellous work showed:

"I'll speak better words than the worst of mine. I apologise and Will not speak anymore of them today. After all the silly words have gone, we were very very very very happy, proud, joyful and glad all together."

Oh no, no... cheeky Bryan! He has to do it again. Properly too! And on that same sheet of paper, he had to copy:

Bryan will say good words only.

Once again, he was left alone to write his lines. Minutes passed and Bryan should be half way there by now.

"I am writing lines!" he said. And it was true, he did write his lines properly this time. The only thing is...

Bryan will say nice words only.
Bryan'll say nice words only.
I'll say nice words only.
I'll say terrific words only.
I'll say good words only.
I'll say successful words only.
I'll say fantastic words only.
I'll say quiet words only.
I'll say better words only.
I'll say brilliant words only.
I'll say clear words only.
I'll say chatty words only.
I'll say nicer words only.
I'll say more terrific words only.
I'll say more fantastic words only.
I'll say clearer words only.
I'll say fabulous words only.
I'll say quieter words only.
I'll say chattier words only.
I'll say more fabulous words only.

Clever, cheeky and naughty Bryan, but looks like you have learnt your lesson. Off you go then! You can have your break time.

While the teacher can have an aspirin or two.

Brawly Bollywood

2006-06-22T01:05:00.000+08:00

It's my third week at a Bollywood Dance class.

The first time was memorable. I kept forgetting my steps because I was concentrating on a matter most critical, which was "Don't laugh, Pari. Don't you dare laugh!"

Thoughts of performing the kinds of dance moves I see in Bollywood movies threatened to leave me in hysterics. I like the style as it is carefree and leaves a lot to self-expression rather than precision. Trouble is that my dance is as expressive as gravel.

Every lesson left me gasping for breath and my cuff muscles aching the next day, which is not bad considering I could not do those rocking, shaking and swaying. The hardest part so far was shaking my upper body to the beat without looking as if I'm having a seizure. But I'll get it somehow. Let's hope I don't have to do the neck thing so soon. There is still a dull ache on the left side of my neck from my last solo attempt.

Just for fun, here's music (right click please. I removed the player because it made explorer go crazy) of that dance sequence I'm in the process of destroying. Song's Say Na Say Na from BluffMaster the movie.

-post written by a future Bollywood ~~comic idiot~~ dance star.

Go Goalies!

2006-06-15T16:00:00.000+08:00

World Cup is upon us again so expect no shortage of late nights, melodrama, Oscar-worthy acting and of course goals, Goals, GOALS!

But that's so over-rated.

We're naturally drawn to the spectaculars so the likes of [insert names of hot scorers of the moment here] gets most stardom. But who are the people who make victories taste ever so sweet? It's those annoying people dressed in unique attires standing in the way of glory.

Dad was in a soccer team in high school. His coach was some crazy ex-military guy so vigorous in training was an understatement. However, thanks to superhuman stamina, the team trashed many opponents. One day, dad caught a nostalgia bug of his wonderous youth, so he brought the kids on Sunday morning to a nearby soccer field. I could not kick a ball to save my life so I volunteered as goalkeeper. Moreover, my basketball experience would surely come in useful. However, standing in front of the net became intimidating and I couldn't reach the top bar even when I jumped. Dad lined up my brothers and himself and took turns kicking the ball. My basketball reflexes were useless as I darted from one corner to another. Getting scratched or bruised from diving was the last thing I wanted. I even had a mental picture of paramedics being called to the scene because I was comatose from hitting my head on the goal post. How do these people do it? - Throwing away their safety to stop a hot shot goal scorer from getting the ball through?

The goalkeeper." ...They say where he walks, the grass never grows".
-- Eduardo Galeano, Soccer in Sun and Shadow

Demands are high. Goalkeepers, as the last line of defence, have to throw (literally) themselves in to do whatever it takes to stop the ball in its track. Even if it means diving towards incoming opponents, perform acrobatics as well as risk getting trampled. At the same time, they're expected to have lightening fast reflexes, foresight and quick thinking.

While they are not perfect...

When they do step up to the plate, they can inspire.

Watch out for an amazing mid-air back flip kick save at the 40th second mark.

In any sports, I have a huge respect for the ones who are left to stand guard. Let the strikers and forwards have their fun because ultimately, a brilliant goalkeeper plus strong defence will make a team invincible. And they certainly don't do victory runs around the pitch after every successful saves.

To Shape Run or Not to Shape Run

2006-06-13T15:33:00.000+08:00

That's the question that only Shape can answer. The organisers received an overwhelming response (which I'm sure has nothing to do with the fabulous prizes or the runner's kit worth $370 with only a registration fee of $15) from eager ladies for Singapore's first ever women only competitive run.

My running buddy informed me of the run in early May and we decided to take on 10km. She checked with me many times whether I'd registered as she hates to run alone. I always replied, "Soon." Was not too worried about it since deadline's 30th June.

Feeling assured, she promptly sent in her application form as mine sat on my table. Couple of weeks and reminders from her later, I finally completed my form and popped it in the mail box.

I took a quick look at their webpage on Sunday and noticed it was updated with the latest annoucement of not receiving any more applications due to safety concerns. When did the organisers make that update? I can only hope that it wasn't on the day I posted the form.

Or else I'm going to have to run more than 10km to get away from a furious friend.

8 times Pari Flashes

2006-06-10T04:41:00.000+08:00

... her past.

*ahem*

Another tag mark left behind... this time by Onigiriman!

Once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with 8 facts/things/habits about yourself, saying who tagged you. In the end you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names. No tag backs.

I find this challenging because I don't like to write in-depth things about myself. Telling folks about my take on stuff or my day is so much easier, which is why this post took longer than it should. While pondering over what to include, I mentally flipped through the back chapters of my life searching for anything that is remotely interesting. As my mind clicked out bits of memories, I was amazed that all these fragments did in one way or another shape the person that I am now. Memories (good and bad) are things that build one's character and define the person that you are. Which makes people with Alzheimer all the more tragic because they end up becoming empty shells of themselves.

These are the flash facts:

Fact #1:
I have been using the same facial wash - Eversoft Avocado - for 13 years

Old design (left), new design (right)

The green packaging has been really consistent as it only went through 1 major change. I still have the older design and unused for possibly over 5 years now. When the company decided to change the design, I felt the urge to preserve a piece of history so I left the last tube with the old design to rest inside the cabinet.

It's also the very first facial wash I ever used. I did try others now and then, but I'll always revert back to this one. While some detractors commented that using this is no different from plunging your face into detergent, it's still good ol' reliable Eversoft with the ability to leave my face squeaky clean. I do not plan on switching brands anytime in the future as once I develop a liking for something, I'll stick with it all the way till I'm forced to look elsewhere. Such as product discontinuation or in a larger sense, a break-up. But that's another story.

~0~

Fact #2:
I do these sorts of stuff behind closed doors

Tamaki Nami - Shining Star (alternate angle)

Tamaki Nami - Believe (alternate angle)

But don't count on me hitting the Para Para Dance machines at the arcade. This shall stay behind closed doors until, with my under-developed dance coordination, I can figure out the entire dance steps within the next couple of years.

Dancing to a happy tune was my way of dispelling nervous energy which I have an excess of. I was a difficult baby as I would cry non-stop and every little thing frightens me. As I grew older, I make a perfect candidate for hypertension and have regular throbbing headaches to prove it. Friends complained that I always leave them behind in the dust as I hurried along and that got me even more flustered. Many things worry me and I would even fret over stupid things like whether I'll die from spontaneous combustion from a short circuit in my brain.

Overtime, I have learnt not to take everything too seriously and laugh at myself more. There is something liberating about dancing as it encourages me to look on the bright side of things. My dancing might look like a rabid bunny pumped with caffeine and steroids but who cares? No one is watching and I get to have some fun.

~0~

Fact #3:
I have a ~~secret~~ crush on Uttsada Panichkul (aka Utt) for the longest time.

Sure he is a pretty boy and has waist size that's barely 30". It's also fine that folks say that he's gay, engaged etc. But he has the IT look for me.

I remember the first time I saw him on MTV's Bangkok Jam. My jaw dropped, I sighed and that was the beginning of a lovely one-sided relationship. Well I don't have posters of him all over my room and I sure do not scour the internet searching for any scraps of information about him, but I subject myself to creepy supernatural encounters just to catch a glimpse of him introduce the next scene for barely a minute. Hurry up and host something less scary!

~0~

Fact #4:
I survived Typhoid fever when I was 11 months old.

My parents really thought at that time that they would lose their first born daughter. But somehow, I hung on.

When I was at my lowest point, I was short of taking anti-depressants. Thoughts of suicide were never too far away and I would devise ways to end my life with minimum fuss. In times when I was finally staring at the knife clutched in my hand, I asked myself if my passing on would matter anyway. People will feel sad, but they will eventually get over it. It is then that I recalled the time dad told me about my illness and near brush with death.

That became my last source of strength. I told myself that if I managed to survive something that could have easily killed me, it is a sure sign that I was placed in this world to give something back and I should not ever short change myself of that purpose.

~0~

Fact #5:
I make it a point to watch every single Swan Lake performances that comes along.

I loved Swan Lake because of its story and most of all its music. And what little girl doesn't like white tutus and prancing around like the most graceful of all birds? I could also sit for hours watching videos of ballet performances which my mom dutifully rented. Strange that I could not remember any of them other than Swan Lake. But there was one scene from a ballet that traumatised me. The hero was given some flowers from a girl who left him. He watched her disappear from sight before turning his back to the audience and walked away. The lights dimmed and by the time credits started rolling, I was wailing like a banshee. It took a while for me to be consoled after that.

I learnt ballet when I was in Primary school and while I loved tip toeing around in my ballet slippers, I dreaded going for class. My ballet instructor was not exactly the nicest of people. The kind of person who personifies snobbery, she walked around with her nose pointed upwards. I never really found out whether it was because she didn't want us to see just how big her nose was. She was quick to dispense insults to those (like yours truly) who had the audacity not to know the difference between a leotard and a unitard and wasted no time to publicly humiliate those who could not keep up.

I also had organ class which was on the same day. In order to reduce the stress of shuttling from one class to another, I was made to choose between ballet and organ. I chose the latter. Simply because I liked the organ teacher a little better than the ballet teacher. In the end I found out the hard way that it was a childish decision. Minus the teachers, at least I liked ballet. 7 years of banging the keyboard and smashing pedals finally came to an end when I got to drop out of teacher's grade. Till this day, I regretted making that decision to stop learning ballet. So I guess watching Swan Lake is a way I could still connect with the lost ballerina in me.

To date, one of the more memorable Swan Lake I watched was Graeme Murphy's Swan Lake in Melbourne. The storyline was a little different but the choreography and costumes were stunning.

~0~

Fact #6:
A teacher compared me to Audrey Hepburn.

She might not think that it meant anything, but for an awkward teenager with very low self-esteem, her worlds were solid gold.

I had my first taste of the Audrey Hepburn charm through My Fair Lady when I was a little girl. Though totally clueless to her life outside that one film, watching her left me with enough impression to mention her name whenever I was asked who my favourite actress was. Couple more years passed and I watched My Fair Lady again on television and was reminded of how I admire her classiness and poise. I imagined meeting her in person one day but later found out she passed away.

Even in her winter years, she still has a certain glow about her and maybe much more than in her youth. It was as if she became more beautiful as each year passed. She was neither bombshell gorgeous nor wildly popular but with her down-to-earth and gentle ways, her legacy is a steady flame that burns eternally. The kind of person I dream to be someday.

I went through the usual stuff like teen angst, obsession to fit in, questioning my self-worth and wondering what my future would bring. Nearing graduation, the class exchanged the usual "keep in touch" notes on our class photographs. I nervously gave mine to the teacher and when I got it back, I teared, "... on a personal note, I really like your poise and elegant 'sense'! A little 'Audrey Hepburn-ish' - I've always thought."

Like a mother's hand that soothes an anxious child, I felt that same glow Audrey Hepburn had and with that, a tremendous boost of self assurance.

~0~

Fact #7:
I was a Jealous Brat

I envied my rich neighbour who has a room fully dedicated to house all her Barbie, She-Ra and My Little Pony collections. I whined constantly over my small collection of toys and threw fits when my parents refused to get for me something I saw on tv. Then Mom brought me along on one of her visits to a salam - village of the poor - in Bangkok.

"So you think you have so little?" mom asked me as she lead me along narrow planks that bridged different odd-shaped huts. I was too shocked to say anything. For a 6 year old, it was too much for me. It was a long time ago, but I vaguely remembered blue-grey wood on huts and pathways, dampness, and my mom saying hello to the residents. There was an old lady we passed. She was doing laundry outside her tiny house and she grinned at us, her gums were swollen and she barely had any teeth left.

Then mom brought me to a slightly bigger hut. She said that it was a school. It was lunch time and the students were tucking themselves into tiny pieces of chicken with more bones than meat.

Did they whine? No.

So I stopped whining too.

~0~

And something a little more recent.

Fact #8:
I crashed my car in a car park. Twice.

The first time was at school. And the other time was at the estate's carpark. I was running late for work and I backed the car out into an old Toyota belonging to a (thankfully) kind man.

It was a total comfort knowing that I have successfully carried out a family tradition. Grandma crashed her car into the back of a garbage truck while Mom managed to drive hers into a marketplace that was under construction with enough force to have a metal pole pierce through the windscreen and missed her face by inches. My father was no better. In his young and restless days he single-handedly drove a car off the cliff and left his passengers with broken arms and legs while he escaped with only a cut on the forehead.

Feeling that I might be destined for achievements that surpass my predecessors, I have developed a habit of braking early and often.

And finally...

my task is done. I hereby pass this on to 6 (why not more?!) other people who I very much would like to force a blog out from. In order of the number of days since last post - Will (18 days), Malu (11 days), Daene (10 days), Te (5 days), Don (4 days), and Ryo (4 days).

K, would relish in tagging you myself as a present from last time but something tells me that Aemii is going to do that when she's done with hers. You've been warned. Heh!

Updated: Pssst.... Debs (aka pegasus979).

WHAM!!!

I heard you and you've been given a tag of honour. Serve it well!

Bimbotisized by a Panda

2006-06-05T21:13:00.000+08:00

This commercial is absurd, there's somebody's in a panda suit and the song oozes enough saccharine sweetness to give a hippo a toothache. But it's still so darn cute.

I thought I should already be in perfect control when it comes to such things but the flying bit finally made me squeal. Blast my innate inclination for quaint and delightful looking things.

Wait a minute, what's the product again?

Camp Sweet Camp

2006-06-04T18:15:00.000+08:00

Onigiriman raised a valid query about it being "camping" if you stay at a chalet.

While staying at a nice weekend resort complete with a spacious living room, kitchen and cosy bedrooms definately has c-h-a-l-e-t written all over, we also did (fairly) similar things people would do at camping trips.

We set up our camp site (once we checked in at reception and moved our bags into designated bedrooms) and took note of our food supply (of potato chips, oreo cookies and the number for Canadian Pizza). After that, we went hiking (to Downtown East) and the students picked up useful food gathering tips (at MacDonald's). We also got up close and personal with wildlife and learnt survival skills (while fending ourselves against hungry Jurassic Park dinosaurs at the arcade). At the end of the day, we gathered around (the coffee table) for some songs (while watching the American Idol Finals) and marshmallows.

I'm glad that the kids enjoyed themselves including those who had never stayed overnight without their family before.

One of them was Rio*. The bus was scheduled to arrive at 11am so I sneaked in some work for the students to do while reassuring a very anxious mother who actually paced around school for nearly 3 hours so that she could see her son off. Ironically, it was the same person who wanted Rio to become less dependent on her for every little thing and suddenly, she realised that she has to learn to let go as well. When we arrived, I paired him up with a chatty boy and they got along very well to the point of both begging me to leave the lights in their bedroom on overnight. Rio's mom usually makes a special milk drink for him twice a day and it was the first time he had to do it by himself. Which he did. His usually nervous expression broke to a grin when I commented that it looked like mommy won't have to do it for him anymore at home. Now it is just a matter of reminding the mom to let him do more things by himself around the house.

It is easy to want to shelter people with special needs from the harsh world but for how long? In the end, it is about picking up life skills and integrating into society. Things we take for granted such as ordering something at restaurants, doing chores, taking the public bus and even interacting with other peers are little triumphs towards opening up their world. Just like feeling water and finally connecting it to a word, Helen Keller's dark world suddenly exploded into lights. My wish for my students is that they will all experience that Helen Keller moment that will propel them towards finding their own niche in Life. In the meantime, my colleagues and I will continue to brainstorm different ways and means to set them off on their way.

Overnight Stay

2006-05-25T01:25:00.000+08:00

Am going pampered camping (at a chalet) Thursday through Friday with the students. It's going to be games, swimming, singing and BBQ. Let's just hope the hyperactive ones do not keep me awake the whole night.

Pleasure Pressure

2006-05-24T22:55:00.000+08:00

I'm still rubbing my tag mark from K who was so kind to remind me of my duty to serve it. (Thanks!) So here's my list.

TO DO: Name ten (10) of life's simple pleasures that you like the most

Vun: Belting rock songs while driving.

Too: Trying on different pairs of shoes during off-peak days and then not buy them.

Tree: Publishing a post successfully on the first try and not after an hour of trying. (maybe I ought to move blog, but where?)

Foh: Counting blessings.

Faif: Hearing "Please", "Excuse Me" and "Thank You".

Sih: Walking and running.

Savan: Digging my feet into sand at the beach.

Ach: Sticking soft fries into McDonalds' cheap vanilla ice cream and eating them. Together.

Nain: Listening to different accents.

Tan: Hugging. Just hugging.

Okay, I've done my homework, but I hate picking people, so to make things easier, if you're reading this post, I tag you. TAG! TAG! And TAG!!

(That includes you too, the mystery person who has been reading my blog.)

So what are YOUR Top Ten Life's Simple Pleasures?

Post Famine

2006-05-24T00:16:00.000+08:00

I survived my first famine. Pardon the dramatics. It's not like I'd to endure years of involuntary starvation and undrinkable water while having to live in unsanitary conditions, sleep on hard ground, shiver every night, wonder if the adorable kid I made friends with today is going to die tomorrow, pray that no crazy warlord will come by my village on top of being exposed to contagious diseases. But a number of silent innocents still do.

30 hours is nothing really. I managed to last through the famine because I cheated. I drank clean water and slept in a warm cozy bed. It took me a while to recover from fasting. The next day, I had been munching slowly and in small quantities 1) just in case I get indigestion and 2) my food deprived body goes into survival mode and drops its metabolism rate. My breath also stank, which apparently is common while fasting so I was glad I did it during an anti-social week.

Even though it was a mere 30 hours compared to 40 hours or even 75 hours, I felt enlightened. I slowly learnt to separate needs from wants because one of the most fundamental survival need - food - is painfully lacking.

My resolve was greatly tested by dinner time. At the 22nd hour, I was at Olio watching my friend eat spaghetti bolognese as I chewed the end of my drink straw like a piece of liquorice and tried not to let the delectable smell of warm meat sauce drive me to....

Then again, a slice of toast was also enough to excite the same amount of enthusiasm. A dollar or two may not be enough to get a side dish at restaurants, but it sure is enough to buy a loaf of bread. Eating rich food served in munchkin size at ogre price is ludicrous. Needs versus wants indeed... I should eat simply more often.

I fast so that I can appreciate having three meals a day and the luxury to complain about getting love handles instead of seeing an entire outline of my ribs. Suddenly, the obsession to be stick thin has become meaningless. I will continue to align my goals from merely fitting into my jeans to being agile and healthy.

As I descend into starvation, I began to believe that it is possible for people, in their primal need to survive, to reveal the darkest of themselves. If you're hungry enough, will you trade love for a few scraps of food? I heard a heart-wrenching tale of a beggar mother breaking the limbs of her daughter so that she could get more sympathy credit as a cripple. I can only pray that the money "earned" went into food and not alcohol or drugs.

At least there are ways to help humanity and love to flourish. Whether it is rolling up your sleeves to help in a community, spreading the word to raise awareness or giving away your savings for that pair of to-die-for Ferragamo shoes so that someone out there can have regular meals for the entire year, you are making a difference.

I also learnt that World Vision Australia is organising their own famine campaign in August. Only that it's 40 hours *ahem* Aemii? *ahem* Will?? *cough*

28th Hour Babblings

2006-05-20T23:19:00.000+08:00

Two more hours to go... thank goodness.

For the record, I'm glad I stayed true to my decision of not breaking the 30 hour famine. Food is as basic as you can get. Without it, your body ceases to function. As the hours roll by, my mind slows down (heck, it took me so long to mentally process the remaining time when a friend asked me), movements become sluggish, motor coordination all whacked. I've no idea what I'm typing too. Do I sound delirious? Seriously, how do people who fast as well as anorexics do it? I got to applaud their unwavering discipline, but let me eat proper food soon!!!

My cravings are at their all time high. To name a few, there're cookies, spaghettis, marinated chicken salad, roti john, omelette, sushi and... above all dim sum. All hail the succulent mantous and BBQ pork buns. I think I'm just making things worse for myself by typing the names of these food.

Been downing water every time I felt my stomach rumble but this tactic began to lose its effectiveness by the time I sniffed the wondrous aroma of dinner which I know that I will not be having. I'd also been keeping myself inactive in order to conserve energy. However, it was challenging not to let the mind wander Whenever there's a moment, my mind shifts to food. Other than sleeping time, I'd been trying all day to keep my mind occupied on others tings, even to the extent of watching a play down at Alliance Francaise this evening.

The feeling's very discomforting and if I keep this up any longer, the hunger pangs will begin to gnaw at my stomach lining as well as my resolve. As of now, I just want to sleep. Probably might explain why people in famine stricken countries with single ruling militias continue to accept their horrid way of life. The oppression was long, and they are simply too weak to fight. Hence all the more they help from those who want as well as can make a difference.

Anyway, am so glad that this ordeal is nearly over. *Gulps some more water* All I want to do now is to lie down. Am keeping an apple next to my bed in case I get up later.

My 30-Hour Famine Starts

2006-05-19T23:13:00.000+08:00

Kevin Carter

Hunger is real. The picture was taken in the 90s and a decade later, it's still happening day after day.

My brothers and I were trained to finish everything on our plates by mommy dearest who echoes a common sentiment, "People in other countries are starving, and you're wasting the food you have?" I took it very seriously and had been stuffing myself full before I learnt to ask for less. However, I'm still left with thoughts that for every grain of rice I did not consume, a child somewhere will die from starvation, because the excess food could have gone to him or her instead. So I tried to do my part by asking for less and donating money whenever I can.

I received an email somewhere in April from Worldvision Singapore regarding a Famine Youth Camp to be held in June. It felt like a valuable experience to have as you won't truly understand someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. After all the biggest advocates for any cause are those who share similar experiences. Unfortunately, maximum age was 25 and I was about to forward the email to my friends asking them to participate when my mind clicked, it went something like, "Oh, yeah. I'm not 25 anymore. . . . *blank stare* . . . . . oh for crying out loud!!!"

After getting over the annoyance of nearing 30, I decided that if I can't go for the camp, I'll just undergo the famine by myself. For a person who enters zombie mode whenever her meal is delayed, I must be crazy to do this.

If my metabolism's as active as it used to be, I would have had no qualms about gobbling all day long. Food is central and eating is probably the super glue that binds my family together. We can go from tearing at each other's throats one moment and laughing with each other the next once our stomach is full. Moderation does not apply whenever we eat out - restaurants we patronise are those with food that comes fast and furious, trips to conveyor belt style sushi places often result in (proudly) counting the number of empty plates that were neatly stacked by mom to see if we'd beaten our record, and I shall not mention the buffets in case I start to blush.

As much as I'm apprehensive about this process, I know that given how fortunate I am to have all my basic needs met, I will never understand the hardships associated with true hunger unless I give up the very thing I centre my daily activities and my emotional well-being on. When this 30 hour famine is over, I hope to learn more about myself as well as gain something to spur me on to do greater things.

As I'm typing this, it's about 5 hours into the 'famine' and I'm starting to feel my stomach rumbling. Hopefully the hunger pangs will not hit me too hard by the time lunch comes along.

Work Hard, Play Daze Harder

2006-05-13T19:20:00.000+08:00

Taking a breather.

The week's been long even though there was a one-day discount thanks to Vesak Day. I look forward to seeing the kids again by the time Monday comes a-knocking, it's just the mundane happenings before and after classroom time that I dread. Summer school lesson plans, end of semester reports and school related extra-curricular activities easily filled up the rest of my day (and night). My time efficiency is spiralling downhill, as I take longer to finish each report. Something is exasperatingly wrong somewhere and dreaming about work and the boss for 3 consecutive nights in a row did not help either. Well, at least holiday's around the corner. Still have yet to arrive at a stage where I can perform the count down to summer vacation (aka Tus ca ny trip, *wipes off drool*) with my fingers, but if I were to include my toes, it's just about right.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need get back to ~~staring at my toes~~ work.

Visual Tidbit

2006-05-07T23:36:00.000+08:00

I roared at this one.

A twist take on a LOTR moment by Training Wheels.

Election Rumble

2006-05-05T17:04:00.000+08:00

Election's up in another 6 hours (Sat, 6 May 2006) and the political groups were out in full force to rally as many votes as they could. While not a voter because 1) I'm a permanent resident 2) it's a walkover in my constituency, I got caught up in the quiet amusement of being an observer to the whirlwind of gutter politics. It felt like a pillow fight with feathers flying all over . Hopefully, this will not cloud voters' vision in making the best informed choice.

I caught the latest Party Political Broadcast on Thursday over the radio. The People's Action Party (PAP) representative as well as Chairman, Mr Lim Boon Heng was up next with his speech. In the midst of all the highly charged sentiments, I can not say that I was agreeable with some of the ruling party's (PAP's) ideas. In fact, I was bordering on apathy. As Mr Lim spoke, I sat back quietly and wondered what other stuff could he possbility bring up that I'd not heard before. Then...

*rumble*

I sat up. What was that background sound I just heard? A little while after...

*growl*

I adjusted the headphone. Moments later...

*rrrrrr*

Did the poor man have his dinner? Briefly, the cold and collected front of the PAP vanished and I felt terribly sorry for Mr Lim. He was no longer a politician, just a regular person working very hard while having to run on fumes. Guess no matter which side you're on, what group you're with, what kind of political sentiments you have, we're all still human. Unfortunately, we tend to forget that.

To My Love

2006-05-03T00:23:00.000+08:00

Do you know that I spotted you just the other night? You were with your friends looking so happy and carefree. Don't think you saw me and it's just as well. It has been a while, I thought I was over you, but I was so wrong. Seeing you again unlocked a flood of memories. And I spent another sleepless night trying to relive the wonderful moments we had together.

We have been friends for so long and I have shared the deepest of secrets with you, shed the bitterest tears in your presence, and gave you my warmest smile. You fill me with so much tender sweetness, it is intoxicating. I still adore you, even though I'm deeply hurt by all the things you'd done to me.

Who would have thought that we met by accident at a supermarket? But we hit it off immediately. It could have been an everlasting relationship, but harsh reality prevailed. The more we're together, the more harm I received. You assured me that you will not do anything to make me feel bad. You can stop pretending now. I get it... that is why I had to walk away. I felt so much heaviness. I forced myself to face the truth that as wonderful as you are, you can never change. While you will never admit it, but deep down, I know that you didn't mean the things you had done.

I confess that there has neither been a day I didn't think of you nor a night I didn't dream of you. Wondering how you are doing and what new addition has come into your colourful life thus far. I still miss your smell, your looks. I thought we connected beautifully and the joy you bring is eternally burned into my soul. Without you, it is nothing but pain now. Why is it that only you can make me feel this way? If you only knew how happy I was to have you and how I struggled to keep my life together when I lost you. I made a promise to myself though. That I will keep all the ardour I felt for you safe within my heart till my last breath.

Even though you will never read this, I just want you to know that you will always have a special place in my heart. There is no regret knowing you. If time can be turned back and if I had the chance to experience being with you again, I'll gladly take it. Please always remember that I'd loved and adored you since the time we met and till now.

I love you, Ben... and Jerry.

Brain Hang

2006-04-28T17:23:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-25T00:21:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-22T13:32:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-20T17:21:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-16T19:10:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-14T07:03:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-12T23:08:00.000+08:00

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 ~~and ram it off the road~~, overtake it and then slow down to a pace half of what it's going at.

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

2006-04-11T22:09:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-03T20:00:00.000+08:00

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

2006-04-03T08:52:00.000+08:00

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!

What's This? #2

2006-03-26T10:33:00.000+08:00

Congrats to Heather for being the first to figure that it's a chocolate chip cookie. ~~Ego stroke~~

That was way too easy. So let's try Challenge Number 2.

What's this?

2006-03-24T19:47:00.000+08:00

Was inspired by Melvin's flipside!to put a photo up for scrutiny in the name of fun. Macro shots are fun to experiment with and if done by a master, can yield beautiful pictures. I'd blotched an attempted artistic shot so passing this super close up of (insert answer here) as a guess item. If you have about 10 seconds, try to figure out what it is! I think it's pretty easy. First person to guess correctly gets an ego stroke.

UPDATE
Mystery Object: Chocolate Chip Cookie

The students have cooking class every Friday and they baked lots of cookies. The smell was heavenly, but for someone who'd been trying to stick to a low carb diet, it was sheer torture! Eventually, I caved in. Like Jekyll & Hyde, my inner Cookie Monster took over and I polished off 7 large cookies... but it's worth it.

Creative Outlet

2006-03-22T22:20:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Irfan who didn't listen to anyone but himself. One day, he was playing on the computer and his teacher, Ms Sue, told him to stop. But he didn't.

She warned him that she will give him 3 chances, and if he still didn't want to listen to her, he will lose all his computer privileges for the whole month.

First chance, second chance and third chance came and went. Irfan could no longer play on the computer for the entire month and he was distraught... frustrated... and VERY angry.

During art lesson, the class made a birthday card for a girl called, Teruni. Each student drew lovely pictures about birthdays, but Irfan had other plans...

One more reason why Life's not fair for regular women

2006-03-22T03:32:00.000+08:00

Pinched my waist in the bathroom with lots of resentment while squinting hard at the mirror. Had that unavoidable moment of body-image inferiority complex.

If only all the fats that women consume know exactly where to deposit themselves, then we can finally reject that extra helping of rich dessert with, "No more for me thanks, I'm worried that my boobs will get bigger."

Upgrade

2006-03-22T03:15:00.000+08:00

Couldn't sleep so back staring at the cold screen. Upgraded my Haloscan account and all the previous comments left behind last year returned. It's fun to read them again. Am getting this a warm fuzzy feeling all over and I feel like hugging someone.

Light Years

2006-03-20T18:29:00.000+08:00

It's the end of the 1-week school break and the end of snoozing while most folks had to drag their feet to their respective work places. I entered school grounds trying to shake off the blues. Same grounds keeper, same smiles on same faces, same strange smell along the corridor where I bumped into the Principal. She told me about a bath time phobic boy she met yesterday at church and had a debate over the importance of bathing.

Using the greatest role model she could think of, the principal noted, "But Danny, even Jesus Christ bathes."

Danny replied, "No way! Jesus Christ is the Light of the world, if he ever bathes, he'll electrocute!"

My gloomy Monday brightened for the rest of the day.

Dense and Re-Density

2006-03-18T11:28:00.000+08:00

Found this on my table when I returned home.

Singapore has the Yellow (Light), Blue (Pure) and Red (Ultralift - I think...)range. I use the Orange (Stop) range which was discontinued last year and whenever anyone I know is heading down to Australia, I'd ask them to help me grab a box or two. Mom came back from Australia after making sure my little brother is settled back in his hostel and bought enough supply to last me for the entire year. So I quickly deduced that she got this strange purple one from there as well.

The next thing I noticed was that it's for "Mature Skin" combined with the picture of an older woman. I wonder....

I took the cream out and asked mom if she's sure that this was for me since it's for mature skin (quietly hinting that it's suppose to be for her).

She looked at me inquisitively and asked, "You won't be using it?"
Me: Don't think so. How about yourself?
Mom: Why don't you use it on your neck? It'll be very useful."

And in that short exchange: (suspiciously) Dense Mother, 1 vs Baffled Daughter with a wrinkly neck, 0

Pinch Me Awake

2006-03-17T05:54:00.000+08:00

Made another life changing move.

Am glad that I can still experience irregular sleep pattern, tight chest, heavy heart, wet cheeks, bit of nausea and a strong need to scream because it means that I'm still alive.

Am also glad that I would rather gorge on cheesecakes and then plan to exercise all the calorie damage off later (injured toe and all) because it means that I still want to live.

Wet Kitchen Floor + Unsuspecting Klutz equals

2006-03-15T22:20:00.000+08:00

A sorry excuse of a gymnastics split and an injured middle toe.

I smashed my left foot against the refrigerator base this afternoon. When the initial numbness subsided I could barely bend the middle toe... and as I'm typing, I think it's starting to swell up.

Flashback to 5-6 years ago when I fractured my little toe while dancing (a solo indulgence of mine) in the shower.

I'll get an x-ray tomorrow. But I hope to do some serious running on the same day if it's not to uncomfortable.

Update: No fracture (thank goodness), just tissue trauma. I can somewhat bend the toe without flinching now.

Fired Up

2006-03-15T11:34:00.000+08:00

Spotted in an insignificantly tiny space of today's newspaper.

4 Teens Suspected of Murder

Tokyo: Japanese police were set to arrest four teenage boys yesterday on suspicion of killing a disabled homeless man by throwing a fire bomb at him, the Kyodo news agency said.

Mr Makoto Amazutsumi, 60, died after his cardboard box shelter caught fire last October.

Police suspect the boys throw the fire bomb after being scolded by another homeless man. - Reuters

Was in Tokyo last December and I got to witness the other side of Tokyo - without the bustling crowds and bright lights. Had a late night and was walking back to the hotel from Shinjuku station when I saw homeless old folks shuffling in droves into quiet corners of the station to set up their homes for the night. The station security guards walked quietly among them at a respectful distance. Their cardboard boxes looked crisply new for recycled materials that had been put to daily use.

First, up with the sides, then a quick check of their belongings, tuck themselves inside and with the last cardboard piece, sealed their shelter from the fluorescent lights. I'm sure that by next morning, these people will be long gone before the first horde of early commuters enters. Winter's bitingly cold in the city, and as I was shivering under my layers of turtleneck, sweater and jacket as the wind blew, these folks had to make do without warm futons and heaters.

Took a quick picture with my horrid camera as I didn't want to used the flash in case I disturb them. There are 3 (and a half) shelters as well as a couple more behind the yellow barricade.

As I walked on I could not help but feel respectful of how organised and tidy they were. Those cardboard boxes situated along the exit tunnel were perfectly parallel to one another. While some were not tucked away behind pillars, it still looked quite discreet. The forgotten people of society, but they still have a lot of personal pride.

The news of a homeless man dying at the hands of some kiddos' vengeful prank was upsetting for me. It's bad enough sleeping on hard floors with only a cardboard box to shield against the elements. I guess the kids were disturbing the peace so they were told off by a cranky homeless person. Instead of hurrying back to their respective warm cosy homes and not letting machismo take over, they set one homeless folk on fire.

Seriously...

I hope those 4 hotheads get crammed into a cardboard box before getting not one but four firebombs thrown at them.

Your Diagnosis Results

2006-03-14T16:02:00.000+08:00

I regret to inform you that you may have emotional impotence. It's fairly similar to post-traumatic stress disorder (like those suffered by victims of war) but contextually milder.

Voluntary emotional and psychological detachment are main symptoms of emotional impotence (EI) and is relatively scenario-selective in most cases. While patients can still laugh at sitcoms and engage in lively chatters with other people, these same folks with EI experience absolute mental shut down when faced with situations or objects (including individuals) that reminds them of their pain.

Fortunately for you, it is at an early stage and can be contained with regular medications (lots of alone time) and occasional socialisation. Exercise and healty diet will help too. I understand from your accounts, that there had been a series of incidents that might have caused and aggravated your condition. And it is best that during this recovery time, that only minimal confrontation of any matter related to these incidents should be entertained.

Check back with me in a month or so.

Lose the Skirts

2006-03-07T23:11:00.000+08:00

You know that you're working in a very secluded environment when you're the object of fantasy of 2 adolescent boys even though you're neither Paris Hilton nor Charlize Theron.

Was called into the Principal's office and wondered which of my kid lodged a complaint to the parent about my sadistic teaching style. She sat me down and gave a couple of preping sentences like "Don't worry, this is all part of your learning curve." etc. Then with a slight smile said that two boys in my class have been *ahem* experimenting and using me as their main star.

As part of the "precautionary measures", I'm to

1) Refrain from showing them any motherly sort of affection such as petting them on the head and pinching their cheeks as I'm not old enough to get away with it. (Pretty fair since habit die hard from my days with the babies and kinders)

2) Dress simply (or even better, look like a walking drapery)

3) Lose the short (it's at knee length already!) skirts.

As a finishing touch, she said, "Don't feel bad about it. It's not your fault that you're young, gorgeous and sexy."

Now why didn't I feel good about it?

Sigh.

Maybe it's time I re-discover my tomboy days of oversized t-shirts, baggy jeans and chucky boots.

Faces of Singapore

2006-03-01T23:50:00.000+08:00

What does it take to get a local like me to re-explore what this country has to offer? Someone from out of town.

And what does it take to re-establish contact with a friend you'd never seeen for a good 8 years even though we're both freakin' living in the same country? Someone many miles away.

A friend from Japan dropped in last weekend and I'd the honour to show him around on Sunday. Was introduced to Ryo through a first Japanese friend I'd made from my stint in Melbourne, and he knows Debbie who was my ex-schoolmate who I've not met for nearly a decade since we'd left secondary school.

Small world and big irony.

2006-03-01T23:48:00.000+08:00

Start the day (alright, half the day) with a sumptuous spread of Indian food served on traditional banana leaf. Next, take cutlery away from foreign visitor and force him to eat with his hands with the excuse of truly experiencing the culture to its fullest.

2006-03-01T23:47:00.000+08:00

Capture the look of contentment on his face (I came, I saw, I conquered) and gawk at his ability to polish off large amount of food.

2006-03-01T23:45:00.000+08:00

As a good host, get into the action as well. For pride and country!

2006-03-01T23:07:00.000+08:00

Popped by Haw Par Villa, a park filled with strange (and to some extent gaudy) figures out of Chinese mythologies.It's been YEARS since my last visit and I was surprised that it's still opened after all these time. Originally wanted to spend a quick 10-15mins there, but ended up walking around for an hour.

2006-03-01T23:01:00.000+08:00

I've no idea why there's a mini Outback in the middle of a chinese mythological park, but hey perfect opportunity to catch up on a quick siesta.
.

2006-03-01T22:58:00.000+08:00

Poor Ryo fell into a manhole on his first day in Singapore (see his left leg). It was in pretty bad shape so this will be a fitting tribute to him. "Ren" meaning "Endure"

2006-03-01T22:54:00.000+08:00

Quiet on a Sunday afternoon.

2006-03-01T22:46:00.000+08:00

Haw Par Villa's main attraction is the 10 Courts of Hell where the dead are judged on the sins they'd committed in their lives and if guilty, are to live out the punishments matted out. The more serious the sin, the more gory the punishment. Remind me to pay my taxes like a good citizen.

2006-03-01T22:45:00.000+08:00

Looks like the folks at banks will be in for a really hard time.

2006-03-01T22:40:00.000+08:00

Take the rickety bridge over to another place. Far from the hassle of life and only quiet reflection allowed.

2006-03-01T22:34:00.001+08:00

My 2 friends, Ryo and Debbie.

2006-03-01T22:34:00.000+08:00

Welcome to the Southernmost Point of Asia Continent. Okay Ryo, this is the photo from my camera, I'm looking forward to the picture from yours.

2006-03-01T22:26:00.000+08:00

Twilight and the sea

2006-03-01T22:25:00.000+08:00

Ryo's just enjoying the sea breeze.

2006-03-01T22:22:00.001+08:00

The idyllic life. Soccer in the evening and catching up over tea.

2006-03-01T22:22:00.000+08:00

View of the largest Merlion in the world. Heard that it shoots out some laser beam things from it's eyes in the evening. Too bad we couldn't hang around long enough to see it happen.

2006-03-01T22:20:00.000+08:00

1...2....3. Smile!

2006-03-01T22:18:00.000+08:00

Ended the day with a walk at the Night Safari. Still vaguely remember being there when it first opened and sitting on a tram and hoping that it would travel fast enough so that mosquitos couldn't catch up. It was a huge difference from the last time I remembered, live performance, eating places and little shops selling knick knacks that's more than just the usual stuff toys. Until the day I can afford an SLR camera, this sign is the only thing my commercial digital camera could take in the darkness.

Signs of LIfe

2006-02-28T17:33:00.000+08:00

People may expect some sort of profound post after so many months of disapperance. I'm sorry if you're one of those misguided folks.

Life's been a rollar coaster ride of ups and downs... mostly downs, but hopefully it'll take an upturn for the better from now onwards. I'm slowly putting myself back on track and experiencing the rush of squeezing an entry in between stuffing my face with dinner and rushing off for sign language class. SEE (Signing Exact English) is much like ASL (American Sign Language) just that it requires (as it's called) the person to sign word for word instead of just the general idea. For example, the term, "I watched the movies yesterday" would be signed in ASL as "Yesterday, watched movie" while SEE would cover the complete sentence. Ultimately, more words for my poor brain to rememeber. It's 6 more lessons till the test, so I guess I still have a chance to catch up on my vocabulary... and of course on the rest of my life.

There goes my no claim bonus

2005-09-05T20:52:00.000+08:00

Just barely 3 weeks into this new car bliss and it ended with a badly dented side and a replacement door. All these because of a combination of my retarded sense of space and misplaced ego. Sure, my car was wedged between another car and the gate wall and negotiating the tight space can challenge even the experianced, but instead of looking for someone to help me spot from outside, I've turned to doing it by myself. That is, inching out a little at a time and getting out off the car to look. This went one for a couple of rounds until I forgot to shift the gear back to Park when I got out. Seeing the car move forward on its own from from the outside was enough to send me screaming like a lunatic and then trying to jump back into the drivers seat to stop the imminent. Since this is reality, my car ploughed its entire front-right side against the wall and only came to a stop when my leg was caught between the car door. So there I was, left leg sticking out off the car and feeling the pressure on my muscle and shin build up while stretching my right hand to press the brake pedal before I could shift that gear back into park with my left.

Having successfully fuelled people's perception about women drivers, I drove Hitomi to the repair shop after nearly an hour of driving up and down the highway thanks to my sense of direction. It was only after sending her to the repair shop that I dropped by the clinic to have my leg looked at. Talk about prioritising. Thankfully, there wasn't any fracture even though my leg felt stiff for a couple of days after that. I probably had my mother to thank for all the calcium pills she had been feeding me all these years. Can't say much about Hitomi though. In the case of Metal versus Bones, it's Bone 1 Metal 0.

While it was only a minor accident at the carpark, I still have horrible flashbacks. Not sure whether it is the sight of the car after the accident, or the repair bill (after claiming insurance!) that made me feel more sick in the stomach. There I was fearing the worst of everything for Hitomi like her falling prey to vandals, burglars, idiotic drivers etc, when in reality I'm her biggest threat. Irony, sweet irony.

In motion

2005-08-30T21:50:00.000+08:00

I won't start with the horrid stuff that came my way as I am trying to leave those behind. Nearly all I ever knew or hold true got turned upside down in a single week. Anyway, am just going to look forward now.

Blogging is almost like exercising. When you've taken a long break from it, it's hard to get back the momentum. But after a session, you'll somehow feel better. Considering that I feel as if I just survived a near fatal accident that left nearly all my limbs broken, it's back to to baby steps for now until I can build myself back up again.

I've started work at the beginning of August as a team teacher (trainee teacher) at a school for special education. My class is always bustling with activities, dramas, heartful moments and whatever things those books don't tell you. It was a humbling experience for me as in the process of learning more about my students, I also learnt more about myself, my perceptions and my emotional maturity. Being stern is out of my normal repertoire and it I am starting to learn that it may be time to step out off my comfort zone. I am glad that I started work in the school without any prior experience as I did not bring along with me any expectations. My mind was uncluttered with "what should be" and I hope to use that condition as a sponge to soak up as much wisdom as my mind can take.

I would say that August is a month of "Discovery" for me. I've experienced, first hand, the highs and lows of working inside a classroom, as well as learnt a little more about the students and teachers I am working with in school.

During the lows, especially when I lose my temper, I felt disgusted with myself for 1) allowing my negative emotions to take over and 2) to vent it on the child (whether or not he/she provoked it). But oh well, hopefully I'll become wiser as the months roll by.

I got a new car. It's an Audi A4 and it's name is Hitomi X. "Hitomi" because it's just a cool sounding name. And "X" because it is eXpensive. I've added a bodykit and changed it's stock 16" rims to 17". Sure grips the road like a dream.

I've also signed up for the Singapore Marathorn at the end of the year. Don't think I will be able to run the full 40 plus km without collapsing, so I'm only taking the sissy 10km run. Been training on the treadmill for a couple of weeks now and I got up to 5km. Now it's a matter of dragging myself outside to run in a non air-conditioned environment...

Jean and Pari's Outrageous Outback (Mis)Adventure

2005-07-13T14:52:00.000+08:00

Alright! Here we are at Alice Springs. Tommorrow's going to be a start of a great adventure.

2005-07-13T14:51:00.000+08:00

5 mins before scheduled pick up.

2005-07-13T14:50:00.003+08:00

15 mins later....

2005-07-13T14:50:00.002+08:00

Gee... where's the bus?

2005-07-13T14:50:00.001+08:00

40 mins later....

2005-07-13T14:50:00.000+08:00

1 hour later....

2005-07-13T14:49:00.001+08:00

2005-07-13T14:49:00.000+08:00

2005-07-13T14:48:00.001+08:00

Be in awe of my prowess! Muahahaha!!!

2005-07-13T14:48:00.000+08:00

Only a geography student can have this much interest. Sigh....

2005-07-13T14:47:00.000+08:00

Where's the water?