He's my PERSON

I have 4 boys in my life that I know I can count on for anything. In fact, it was once remarked that the perfect guy to me would have to have something of each of them. But of the 4, there is one that outshines the rest. No, his name is not John. And no, he's not the tall one.

But he IS my PERSON ~ If I murdered someone he’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor.

While he may find it hard to believe, his opinion matters the most to me. Everything else remains fuzzy and unreal until he knows and I hear his thoughts.


Regardless of whatever blessings I get in this lifetime, nothing will come closer than to the blessing of having him as my Person.

Here's looking at ya kid!

Bungee?

Bungee jumping ~ the sport of leaping from a tall structure while connected to a large rubber band. The tall structure is usually a fixed object, such as a building, bridge, or crane; but it is also possible to jump from a movable object, such as a hot-air-balloon or a helicopter, that has the ability to hover over one spot on the ground.

The last week has been feeling very much like being caught in a never-ending bungee jump, both from fixed and movable objects. Now, for a person who has an intense fear of heights (which is real and analogical), it very much akins to being pretty much scared shitless.

The intense thrill comes as much from the free-falls as from the rebounds.

I can't figure out how to put it into context. And yes, I am happy not to be the person who needs a definition to things. Unfortunately, someone had to go and put a definition to it and it goes as the "beginning of something good, sweet and daring, where emotions run in body, spirit and veins, where it is so intense, scary and sometimes insane."

And it's scary cos there is a wide spectrum of possible injuries that can happen during a jump.

But I suppose, as with every person, whether it's bungee jumping, sky-diving or just plain getting into the car for the first time and starting the ignition, we'll always have the doubt, and the fear, and the uncertainty. As an old friend of mine once wrote in my year-book, that there is never a moment of absolute certainty in life.

Yet given that, question remains ~ are poems and prayers enough to jump off into an adventure?

If only we could be like angels and commit.

Eloquence

I used to think I was eloquent and good in my choice of words. Afterall, I was the official speech writer for chairmans, vice-chancellors, school principals and such for 4 years. But today.. I was proven wrong. For while I have had to rely on big and ostentatious words.. it's sometimes simplicity that takes your breath away..

If all of the poetry in the world
was mine to command
and all the beauty of nature
was in the palm of my hand,
even with all the words
and with the breadth sky and sea,
I could take every glorious sunset
the light from each glowing star,
but still I couldn't convey
just how special you are

Very Hallmark.. but who cares *grin*

Man against beast

It's Monday.. and it's raining.. and i have a dumb-dumb as the office administrator... so here you go.. Monday morning entertainment.

Man: Gimme some of that you monkey! Or I'll dust em pants off yer butt!


Beast: Keep your hands off me beer! It's mine! Mine! Mine!

Man: Up yours then you monkey!

Learning to breathe

Hello, good morning, how ya been?
Yesterday left my head kicked in
I never thought I could fall like that
Never knew that I could hurt this bad

I woke up this morning to a massive panic attack. The kind where you're absolutely conscious of the fact that it's a panic attack and not something that could kill you. I just had to run. Bolt. Made a dash for it. So I went and sat by the pool, watching the city come to life. To think and clear my head.

Hello, good morning, how ya do?
What makes your rising sun so new?
I could use a fresh beginning too
All of my regrets are nothing new

I had absolutely no reason to feel this way. The choked suffocated feeling. Cos yesterday was a great day!

Breathing ~ something that we do from the point of birth to the day we die. It defines our existence as a living thing. Without us doing it, we're dead. Yet, we become aware of it only when there's a remotest chance that our air-flow can be cut off.

I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl

As a dear friend said over lunch today, we are our own worst enemies ~ setting up impossible hurdles to jump over and such. Telling ourself that we CAN'T make the jump. That we WILL fall and get hurt. But she also said that it is when we consciously acknowledge the fact that we are our own worst enemies, we begin our journey of healing and open ourselves to new possibilities.

I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies

So yeah.. maybe it was right ~ the prayer I said in church this morning... when I realised that I wanted to consciously be aware of my breathing again... that there might be a reason for me to want to...

I'm finding that You
And you alone can break my fall

Truth

sin·cere ~ adjective

• Free of deceit, hypocrisy, or falseness; earnest
• Genuine; real
• Pure; unmixed; unadulterated.

As we grow up, we learn to tell the difference between what is sincere and what is not. Sometimes, in a moment's lapse of living in the real and the now, we make errors in judgement ~ seeing what we want to see and not believeing in what everything and everyone tells us.

After a few times, you begin to doubt yourself and the existence of sincerity. And each time you come up close and personal with the possibility of shaking hands with sincerity in the face, you either 1) turn and run, or 2) balk at it, insult it and scare it back to its lil hole.

Let it happen often enough, and it becomes an expectation ~ that no one is ever sincere anymore, and that everyone has an ulterior motive.

If you ask me, the last time I felt someone being genuine with me was 2 years ago, when I stepped up to this chappie with piercings and asked "Is this seat taken?" And my instinct did not fail me then.

So yeah.. I am going to go with my instinct again today and take the written words as the truth.

There is no reason why today is not going to be another unexpected great day.

So this is how it goes..

The early bird catches the worm; a stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost.

My god-ma has been telling me for the last 1 year, of how, one fine day, someone's gonna come along and make me see things from "glass half empty" to "glass half full". And that I am not going to end up at 50 years, with a cat for company.

We can't pretend we haven't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to ‘seize the day'.

I have been laughing it off. No one person could possibly be so refreshingly different, to make me change my mind. That I am no longer that young, naïve, wide-eyed gal who believes that guys can have pure intentions and follow the right way of doing things.

Afterall, we grow up and we all learn that fairy-tales are what they are meant to be - kept sealed under vacuum pressure in a container, buried 6 feet under. And that if there are indeed fairies walking amongst us, they all have horns and a spikey tail hidden beneath the shroud of pure innocence.

Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons.

But then, again, every once in a while, even though we know that there is a devil inside, we still go where we have repeatedly told ourselves we will not go.

We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore, until we finally understand for ourselves like Benjamin Franklin meant ~ don't put off till tomorrow, what you can do today.

And that in a nutshell, explains the amount of agonizing that has been taking place the last few days. Over 1 dinner date.

As ridiculous sounding as it maybe, it has been a long while since dinner was actually contextualised as a date. Maybe it was the auto-denial mechanism kicking it, calling it meeting up for coffee or drinks instead. But this was actually put as what it was – a date! And that just scared the bejibbers out of me!

The thing is, it’s hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely, because almost everyone has that smallest bit of faith and hope that one day they would open their eyes and it would all come true.

So yeah, with my ripped jeans (yes – I did wear em) and my brave, “this-doesn’t-faze-me-look” on, it was off into the jungle. And by golly ~ it was actually very pleasant an experience, without any alcohol or nicotine! And also without any expectations, or realisation that all the other person wants to do is get into your pants.

I am glad that I didn’t let my cold feet get the better of me, that I actually gave life a shot and not be all dark and twisty.

Cos knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, even the worst most intractable mistake beats the hell out of never trying.

At least, even if it’s only the moment or today, looking at the glass “half full” is in itself a refreshing change on its own.

Till death do us part - NOT

I heard the most shocking tidbit over dinner at my folks' place last night. My dad's school chum has filed for divorce, after 30-over years of marriage.

It came as a shock cos this uncle is like a member of our family, always at the house, smoothing things over when my mum whines a bit too much, taking the lil rugrats out when they get too restless, and even mediating when I have a falling out with dad. The kids call him "Tok" and his wife "Nek". And these are really nice people who potrayed a very close-knit family.

After pulling away all the wool and such, apparently it's been seething for the last 5 years and it was all a farce cos they were waiting for all the kids to be grown up. *Ha*

While it is all well and good intentions, I think that was the silliest decision that good ole Unk has chosen to do. I mean, if you lived with it for the last 1,825 days (or 43,800 hours or 2,628,000 minutes), why not push more? Isn't that what "Till death do us part" mean?

Obviously Aunty is in a bit of shock cos she thought that he's over the issue. But then again, who knows how he thinks anymore these days?!

I'm not quite sure how I'm suppose to behave the next time I see him come round to mum's and dad's. Do I pretend that I don't know what's happening? Do I ask about Aunty?

I guess my dad said it all when he said that he's stuck in the middle. The bane of being the best pal. Tough luck dad ~ the scene with friends don't change, not even when you're 60 years old and you think that your friends are beyond the cheating-and-running game.

We get bigger, taller, older. But, for the most part, we're still a bunch of kids, running around the playground, trying desperately to fit in.

I'm just plain disgusted.

And I think the choice to have stuck with it cos of the kids, is another dumb decision. Did he honestly think his youngest is going come back from his graduation, going "Hey dad - thanks for sticking around till I could go out and get a job!"

Not. So Not!

Adulthood

Being an adult? Totally overrated. I mean seriously, don't be fooled by all the hot shoes and the great sex and the no parents anywhere telling you what to do. Adulthood is responsibility. Responsibility, it really does suck. Really, really sucks. Adults have to be places and do things and earn a living and pay the rent.

It's Wednesday morning. It's the middle of the week. I am freaking doing a contract review and analysis for my company. Damn it! What started out as a joke is now a freaking heavy responsibility!

Talk about responsibility. Kind of makes bikes and cookies look really, really good, doesn't it? The scariest part about responsibility? When you screw up and let it slip right through your fingers.

I mean, screw it up and my boss potentially gets screwed over the the client, which translates to a shaky future for me here. And once upon a time, when I was a kid, I seriously considered being either an accountant or a lawyer.

The question is, when did that happen, and how do we make it stop?

I freaking do not like this part of the job.

So.Not.Happening.

Warm ray

First and foremost, I never thought I would use those 2 words together, in a sentence, in a phrase, in anything, again. *grin* After yesterday and all that bad-ju-ju, it is full steam ahead for bright and shiny this week. So yeah - heck care if I used the 2nd word with "warm" being the adjective.

I just had a very non-Asian lunch hour. Headed out to KLCC, bought meself a box of salad (cold chick pasta with apples!), a bottle of mineral water, trashy novel tucked under arm. Seeing how it was 12 noon and with today's temperature being about 31 Degrees Celcius or so, I was about the only person sitting at the fountain area.

Heck care if everyone who walked past galked at me. I was comfy, having a good lunch and enjoying my book. It was a break in the day that was much appreciated. To feel the warmth from the sunshine after being stuck in an air-cond room for the whole day is something that a lot of us have forgotten. All we do these days is bitch about how hot it is.

So trust me on this one - Heat.Is.Good.

And to add to it, in coming back to the office, I had a lovely email waiting for me from a big white guy named Thomas. Here's an excerpt of it:

I guess that everything must come to an end and for whatever reason you decided to jump over the fence and taste the greener grass, I will miss you.

Raised eyebrows? *hahaha* Don't get carried away now for it goes on to say...

Every year about May/June I have the difficult task to find hostschools and organize our school trips, but you have for the last few years made that job very easy and enjoyable. For that I will miss you even more.

Well, what can I say... when the going gets tough, the girl gets going *wink* Or for some boys, they get the wheelbarrow.

Have a good day y'all!

Here's one for the boys!

I am amazed that in my last rant, with the multitude of issues that one could spin a debate or discussion from, the most talked about item is the bit about the bra hook coming off. I even had an sms from Shanghai asking if the sound it made was "twang" or "pop."

I am befuddled. Befuddled at how the mention of boobs and anything remotely connected with it sends guys into a state of absolute eloquence.

I mean, what's the obsessions with these appendages man? Apart from the fact that you don't have them. Hey! We don't have balls, but you don't hear us girls mulling about them?! *grin*

For now, I am not going to rant about it. Cos I got me a satisfactory answer, which goes like this:

Barbs: Why are men so obsessed with breasts?
Puppy:Cos we don't have them!
Barbs: But we don't go around obsessed with your balls!
Puppy: That's cos they are not very nice to look at!
Barbs: stunned silence
Puppy: They are sparsely decorated with long, wavy hair!
Barbs: chuckle building
Puppy: They are just not very nice to look at!
Barbs: breaks out in loud gaffaws of laughter

So yeah.. I shall leave this issue to rest.

Afterall, never argue with the hanging authority *grin*

Signs

It's been a crazy morning. And I just had to take 10 minutes to write it all down as a rant before I blow - literally.

It's dem locks again. This time, it wasn't my home but my office at the client's place. And yes - I share a space with my boss. So.Not.Pretty.

So yeah, went and left the key in the office and shut the door behind us as we headed out for a meeting. Thinking that Security would have a spare, it wasn't too big a deal UNTIL security came by to say that they have lost the key to our room. How wonderful!

I should have taken it as a sign to just go home. Except that I couldn't cos my car keys were in the room!

Oh! Oh! Oh! Check this out - to break the lock, which they had to replace anyway, would have cost RM 400.00 and it was an expense that no one wanted to pick up. *Duh* So after 2 hours of waiting, it was time to take matters into my own hands. I had to break into my own office just to open the door. *Sigh* Anything to get the job done I say!

And to make matters worse, one of the hooks on my bra had to go and give way.

So no more massive arm movements for me for the rest of the day. Which is so what I want to do right now cos some bozo has just come by asking me how did the staff resolve the situation in the end and his answer to our solution is that people who did it needs to be sacked now.

Unbelievable.

The signs are glaring. This place just has bad juju all around.

I should go home right now.

Missed opportunities

You do not get unlimited chances to have the things we want. And this I know. Nothing is worse than missing an opportunity that could change your life.

I wanted a quiet weekend. It's been anything. But.

I think I wanted the time to think, to exhale. From everyone and everything.

I think I wanted the time to sieve thru the opportunities from the lies.

I think I wanted the time to remind myself again of the things that I want out of my life from here on in.

I wish I didn't have to think. That I just knew.

Maybe then, it would have been a quiet weekend.

Gut feel

in·tu·i·tion ~ Noun

• Instinctive knowing (without the use of rational processes)
  
• An impression that something might be the case

Sometimes, you just know that what you see before you, is not the real picture. That there is another drawing residing on the same canvas space. And as much as you want to scrub away the top-layer to get to the truth, you can't bring yourself to prove you wrong.

Do you fight or take flight?

Self-preservation. That's what's intuitions are for anyway. Your subconscious way of telling that it's time to take flight.

I once swore that I will not get into the same rut again. No more wool over my eyes.

I will take flight.

This just ain't worth the bloody fight.

The web we weave

Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye

What would you do, if you've been standing in the shadows of the theatre, watching the scene unfold, knowing that your cue has come up?

What would you do if you let your fear of one bad critic stand in your way of taking that first step forward?

As it was said in the movie, it's only one critic among all.

It's a tangled web that we sometimes weave for ourselves... all because we forgot at times that hope does exist for a reason.

Slight hope
It dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption...

Burning it down to the ground

The last episode of this season's Grey's Anatomy is over. Over. Over. Over.

There is much public out-cry amongst the American viewers and I was ready to jump on the bandwagon and lash out as well. I mean, after all, this show's quirky relationships has had everyone biting their nails at some point or other in the alst 24 weeks.

And I think we had all lied to ourselves into thinking that after 24 weeks of crappy ups and downs in the Meredith / Derek, Christina / Burke, Izzie / George and Alex / Addison fiasco, God has to be kind to someone and have at least one happy ending.

Afterall, this is the show that gave us the hope..

At the end of a day like this, when so many prayers are answered and so many aren’t, we take our miracles where we find them. We reach across the gap and sometimes, against all odds, against all logic, we touch.

But we can't say we weren't warned through out that hope doesn't always hold out..

As doctors, we're trained to be skeptical, because patients lie to us all the time. The rule is, every patient is a liar until proven honest. Lying is bad. Or so we are told constantly from birth. Honesty is the best policy, the truth shall set you free, I chopped down the cherry tree. Whatever. The fact is, lying is a necessity. We lie to ourselves because the truth... the truth freaking hurts.

So yeah.. all the hopeless romantics, the people who watch this show so that they too for 60 minutes in a week can feel that their lives ain't all that bad.. are seriously let down. Cos the episode finale burnt it all down. Striped.Us.Bare.

Time waits for no man.
I think all crazy-fans like me should use this summer to time out.

Time heals all wounds.
Recuperate.

All any of us can wants, is more time.
Recover.

Time to stand up. Time to grow up.
And then Rediscover.

Time to let go.

Till Season 4 then..

Live Sex

It was dark and the aircond was cold where we sat.

People were talking quietly in the background. In the darkness, someone laughed.

I stared at my drink, he stared at his.

KD lang sang in the background.

And suddenly... "All males are bastards!"

We looked up and then stared at each other.

Slowly, our heads turned to look at where the voice came from...

"Their bloody sex life is non-stop 24-7! And they dare come into my bloody house and chase my female around!"

I felt it happening.. from the pits of my tummy.. working its way up... I could see it in his eyes as well...

"And that stupid bitch is also another loose one!"

The build up was just too much to bear.

"Any damn male cat comes close, and she starts making her sex calls! Useless bitch!"

We burst out laughing, in loud gaffaws, drowning out KD.

Nothing like some life sax to liven up the party I say.

Into you like a train

Sometimes you're given choices. And it's when you have choices that life gets complicated.

Cos choices forces you to sit and think about what is it you really want, so that you'll be able to pick the choice that's right for you.

It gets complicated when the choice that you wanna pick does not match up to all that you want.

So you sit and mull it over with a drink in your hand. And when you're on to your 2nd, you say half the things you wanna say and leave it at that. Push a lil harder with your 3rd and well, everything else comes out.

But here's the thing. What happens when you take the jump to talk about things with a perconceived notion of how the conversation would go in your head, and the actuality is different from what went on in your head?

What do you do? Do you run and hide? Do you bite the bullet and do what you want to do, even if it's wrong? Do you have a 4th drink?

I wished I did all that. Instead, I left for home. But I think the parting said it all.

At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about.
Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer.
Some things are more than what you say. They're what you do.
Some things you say because you have no other choice.
Some things you keep to yourself.
And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.

Why do I have to be into you like a train?

Tagged by Big Al

I was having a fine time catching up on the posts of people that I follow. Having a huge laugh over Al's posting on being tagged. Only to find at the end of it, he tagged me in return.

#*%^$$%&@^#*&^@*&#^*&$^&$*%^#

So here it goes ~ 6 weird things about Barb you didn't know about:

1) I talk to my stuff animals / teddy bears

My soft-toys (and those of my children) have got names, personality and voices. Each of them are different and reflective of their personality. You've all heard and probably met the infamous Blur-Dog but you really should meet his housemate Bobo, who is a gorrilla in tarzan-like trunks with a brother named Fifi living in Paris. Mind you - it's infectious! Puppy's gotten in on it as well.

2) I don't know how to drink beer

While many people think that it's because I'm so high-class broad which causes me not to drink beer, fact of the matter is - I just don't know how. Literally do not know how to bring on the swallow effect and let it go down.

3) I think in my former life I might have been an European

My favourite books are normally set in London or any part of Europe and when I read them, the images, the sounds, the smells - it's all so vaguely familiar. Plus considering how I've only lived in London for 1 year, it felt very much like home. So yeah.. fragments of a former life?

4) I'm allergic to wasabe

I love Japanese food. Unfortunately, I cannot eat it with the kick one gets out of dousing them in Japanese mustard. A tiny bit will cause my skin to break out in bubble like rash. A lot of it will see me swelling up like a balloon and well, on really bad occassions, I stop breathing and have to be put in a hospital. Yes - you now officially know how to kill me.

5) I hate worms and anything that looks remotely like it

When I was 11, we had a school project that involved gardening. Mind you, I grew up in a house that had a cemented garden so gardening was something strange to me. A friend of mine found an earthworm and threw it at me. Ever since then, anything to do with them worms or creepy-crawlies, I scream and can die of shock.

6) I'm actually quite shy

Contrary to everything else you know about this extroverted personality, I'm actually quite shy. When I don't know what to say, I break out in gigles or laughs. And it takes a lot to bring something out of my head and out of thru my mouth. Half the time, I mull and mull and mull over things before it is said out loud.

There you go Al - hope it was worth reading!

Beeba, Kenny, Puppy, Matt, Chris and Jamir - Looking forward to knowing your insanities!

Slap on the wrist

Sometimes as we get older, we tend to forget the struggles of the young. The constant reminder to look at the bigger picture makes us forget that what are small pictures to us, would be a bigger picture to someone else.

My boss sat in on my interview sessions yesterday with some people who are coming in as waiters and waitresses. And it was a disappointing session cos each and everyone of them were gross-ly overpaid right now and each wanting to earn more money, without any thought of career progression.

Now if they were all fresh graduates and 20-year olds, that would be fine. But half of them were about my age and there I was thinking to myself, "Dude - where did you so go wrong in life?!"

Anyways, I guess at some point in between candidates I did express that thought out loud and from within the room came the reply, "Don't. Be. So. Harsh."

Yups. Written that way is the best I can do. But imagine this coming from a big Swiss man in his 50-s who used to be in the Swiss Army and a chef.

Now if that wasn't a slap on the wrist, I don't know what would be then.

The drop of a hat

Amidst a day of sleeplessness, massive communication and what have you not, a text came in and blew my mind away.

I'm sure I had read more into it than it was intended to. And I sure am glad this time I kept my wits about me.

So yeah, after banging my head on the steering wheel a few times, with some cursing and swearing, I did the right and honourable thing.

I said I'm sorry, I can't.

For once.. I didn't put aside everything for you at the drop of a hat.

Maybe I'm finally coming to terms with things.

Pam.Would.Be.So.Proud.

Worth the paper?

It's 6.50 am and I'm in the middle of my 1st adventure of the day. I've managed to lock the kids and I in between the space of my front door and grille gate yet again. Actually, it's been a long time since this happens. At least today, I have bonafide reason ~ I'm functioning on 2 hours of sleep after staying up to write policies.

The twist to this adventure is that I have an excellent Net connection, thanks to my wireless modem but no mobile phone signal. Fortunately for me, my mobile decided to give me a signal strong enough to call for help in the form of my spare keys being brought to me.

Anyways, it's nothing serious nor heavy to write about as one sits and do nothing but wait. The kids are already restles after 10 minutes and have embarked on their teddy bear fights. Me? I'm fighting the urge not to just close my eyes and catch another 40 winks.

So here I am blogging to stay awake. Cos the alternative is much to risky.

You'll never know if anyone would try to be creative, snap a picture and post it to The Star to win RM 50.00

As I wind this post down - thanks for sitting here with me. It's been fun while it lasted *grin*

By the by, here's a question from me... has anything I've ever written worth the paper to print it out on? I never thought it possible nor reasonable. But apparently, somewhere, in an office room in KL Sentral, is one of my blog posting. Printed and framed.

Goes to show, Time, never runs out of fashion.

Sleep but all good

It's gonna be a great day today.

I.Can.Feel.It.In.Me.Bones.

Despite the fact that I am functioning on 3 hours of sleep only. I would normally be cranky and grumpy. There would be a "Beware of Cranky Person" sign placed on my work desk. My kids would be protected from me. Drivers on the road would stay clear.

Yet, I know it's gonna be a great day today. And it's not just talk.

The law of attraction states you get what you think about; your thoughts determine your destiny.

I am determined to attract only positive and good things to me this week.

I think I've gone and overdid the coffee.

Mother's Day

My phone has been beeping non-stop today since 7.45 am. Apart from the usual "Whatcha doing?", most of them have been "Happy Mother's Day!" wishes.

I think this is the first time in 6 years of motherhood that this day has truly gotten to me. I used to be big on these types of occassions - fighting with my brother as to who gets to get what for Mum (and it was alway either a nightdress or facial cream). I remember when I started working, gifts became more lavish - gold earrings, a fancy dinner, a branded handbag. And then it all started to wane.

Part of it is probably because I realised that no matter what I did on this day of commemoration, it could never profoundly show my mum how much she means to me. And as a result of it, to do something, anything at all, would dilute the meaning of it for us.

Another part of it is probably because I became a mother myself, and the journey todate has not been an easy one. As such, I find today to be just another day.

All the world over, restaurants are booked full and Hallmark has made tonnes of money once again from today.

I know I sound mean-spirited and of course, dark and twisty. As cliche as the next line is going to be, it has to be said. I don't need a day in the calendar to tell me how to show my mum how much she's loved. I don't need a day in the calendar for you to remember the sacrifices that has been made for Lydia and Luke by yours truly.

I see now why some years when we took Mum out to dinner and watch her open the gifts we chose with care, her reaction had always had an air of falseness in it. It's not cos Mum did not love it all. But it's cos just watching us go thru another day unscathed and unharmed was enough for her. And she did not know how to express that to us without sounding ungrateful.

So yeah... the phone just beeped again. And it can continue beeping right thru to midnight. I shall just have to come to terms that it's the way of the world, and that everyone means well.

In years to come, I may not remember who wished me today or the years before this. I may also not remember the poems that was also sent, telling me that I'm one of the greatest on earth just cos I'm a mum.

But I will remember this lil yellow piece of paper with a lil odd-shaped red heart stuck on it. Handmade with ineligible scribbles and many eraser marks. This lil yellow piece of paper that's stuck on my fridge by Lydia.

And for that, I do not need 13th May to be reminded that I'm a mum and that I'm one of the best in the world.

For I have my lil yellow piece of paper, for today and everyday from now on.

And becos of it, it's Mother's Day everyday for me, every moment when my angels run into my arms, telling me they love me.

When was the last time you ran into your mum's arms and hugged her - really, really hugged her?

Cos that would probably mean a whole lot more to her than anything else you can give her, today. And everyday.

Cinta (Love)

I had wanted to write about love today... tales of it being extraordinary, unexpected, eternal, unconditional and pure.

But the words would not come, would not flow. Maybe it's because it takes the great ones who have experienced it in such manners to be able to express it as such.. for the rest of us, I think the words of Neil Gaiman says it best:

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it?

It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart.

It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind.

It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.

I hate love.

And that's all I shall say about that.

12-steps to heaven

al·co·hol·ism ~ noun

A chronic disorder characterized by

1. dependence on alcohol,
   
2. repeated excessive use of alcoholic beverages,
   
3. the development of withdrawal symptoms on reducing or ceasing intake,
   
4. morbidity that may include cirrhosis of the liver, and
   
5. decreased ability to function socially and vocationally

It is interesting to read this definition of alcoholism cos it is a state that many of my close friends think I am in. Now, as I write this, I am not sure if they meant it in jest or as a warning. But either way, considering how it's Saturday night and each and everyone of them is out there, getting drunk - let's set the record straight.

Let's see.. the reasons why they have proclaimed me to be an alcoholic would be:

I drink a lot when I go out.
To put it in perspective, on an average night out, I would do between 5 to 8 units. Yes, 5 to 8 units. I know it's beyond the norm, but let's look at the frequency of this in a week and a month and you'll find that I'm doing less than you are.

I drink at home.
Now, this is a puzzlement. Afterall, if you're not comfortable doing something you do outside, at home, then it's not home.

I drink alone.
This is another puzzlement and the best one yet. To drink in a group, and to do shot after shot after shot just cos your friend edged you on to - it's not drinking. It's succumbing to peer pressure. And that's just stupid at our age. Anyways, I do enjoy a drink or two by myself as I let my thoughts swim around needlessly, aimlessly.

I sit and talk to the moon from my balcony when I drink.
Now, unless I have another adult, capable of grown-up communication with me.. or get a cat, I would think that talking to the moon is my best bet so far. I happened to be quite unfortunate in having an immense need to communicate how I feel and / or feeling, more than the average Joe. Be thankful - it's the moon and not you.

But to further substantiate my stand that I am not on my own 12-steps to heaven...

ad·dic·tion ~ noun

The state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.

My last alcoholic beverage was a bourbon coke with Grover last Friday. Now tell me - do I have a habit? Or you're just plain unable to reconcile this me that exists now and the me you once knew?!

And don't tell me that I'm in denial just cos my blog is named after an alcoholic beverage. Cos then it would really go to show, you don't know the me who is here and now.

Doh-Doh indeed

Yours truly is indeed the original doh-doh bird. It's a good thing I have yet to open the bottle of ice wine for the occassion.

Simply cos the occassion is noted in my mind a day early.

Yeah. The monumental last game of the season and the lifting of the trophy is NOT tonight but tomorrow.

*Sigh*... and you wonder why I say I'm blur.

Sway

co·quet ~ verb (used without object)

1. to try to attract the attention and admiration of men for mere self-gratification; flirt
2. to act without seriousness; trifle; dally.

These are strange times. Indeed it is. When grown people turn to mush and sputter sweet-nothings. When terms of endearments come flying in every email, text message and phone call. The world can't get stranger than it is right now for me.

What's happened to the world? Has it gone insane in this digital age? Is there no other way that civilization knows of but to act flirtatiously? With the opposite sex? With the same sex?

I am befuddled (that damn word again!)

And frankly, a teeny-wee-bit out of my elements.

I know what I'm doing and I know what my intentions are. What I do not know, are the intentions hidden out there. I dare not even go towards the light on this one.

Fingers, ears and toes crossed that the returning intentions are the same as mine.

Quite simply put - there are none.

Maybe Grover was right. I am self-destructive.

Brain - not spillage

Listening to: Dying
Artist: Five for Fighting

They say that the brain and the heart are always at odds with each other. Your brain’s logical while the heart is emotional. Yet we all know scientifically that the heart is nothing but a muscle. And that all emotions and logic comes from our grey matter.

So what do you do then? When your fuzzy logic matter breaks down and collides internally?

Do you go with what is safe but not necessarily right?

Or do you do what is right but which is potentially detrimental to your future sanity?

Do you allow your brain to determine the way your heart is gonna be after all is said and done?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

I should be in bed. Asleep still.

Witchhunt

There's a witchhunt going down in the human resources department. Right now, looks like I'm the one who is gonna be dragged to the stakes. Why? Cos communication broke down, terminologies didn't have definitions, and I'm the one who is pushing things to move.

I know. It is expected. It has been expected. Yet, I am on the verge of bursting out of here and going on a long drive to nowhere.

Frustrations are running very high. No one has a congruent sense of urgency.

To put it into context, you have 1 set of people who are being paid to each specifically deal with 1 vertical task. And you have another set of people who are so short-handed, they are moving vertically and horizontal at a break-neck pace.

Politics is the name of the game these days. And not to say that I'm not well-versed at it.

I just did not expect it to be as such ~ at such a place and level.

I think I am more disappointed and resigned than angry and ranting.

When it gets such, one can only hope that the job pays enough to stomach it all.

For a boy

I know.. I'm goofing off work-hours to write this.. no excuses.. flog me.

This song is just too lovely to be missed. And well, good words should not have to wait another minute.. so here goes..

Please don't ask me by John Farnham

Please don't ask me what am i thinking ~ It's about you
And please don't ask me ~ I never can see you
What can i do...
My first impulse is to run to your side
My heart's not free, and so i must hide

Please don't ask me ~ What i'm gonna say to you
I toss and turn ~ Can't sleep at night
It's worrying me, I go to bed
Turn out the light ~ But your face i see
It only hurts ~ The more i pretend
That we could ever ~ Be more than friends

Please don't ask me ~ Why I'm so in love with you
You could easily make me happy ~ That I know
But I try my best to never tell you so
I will sing to you my love songs
And pretend but I'll keep my distance right down ~ To the end

Please don't ask me why I'm not talking ~ I just can't explain
And please don't ask me ~ Why I go walking out in the rain
I could not live the lie it would take
To have you here would be a mistake

Please don't ask me ~Why I'm so in love with you

No please don't ask me

I was gonna put my comments at the end of the relevant sentences.. but that would be telling too much.. oh well... such is life when you need to borrow the words of another.

As for which boy? didn't you see the title of the song?!

Seeing red

The mystery has been solved.

My notebook does not have an IR port.

It's suppose to - goggle the specs on Compaq Presario V3000 and you'll find IR listed. Having turned it upside down, flipped left and right, right to left (okays I know it's begining to sound very Karma-sutra-ish), I could not locate it.

So I decided to google it again, with the word "forum" appended. Low and behold, I find myself reading how it's a scam and there is no IR port included. I have to get some remote control device thingy-ma-jig if I want my phone (which is my only IR device right now) to mate with my notebook.

*Sigh* I am disappointed. Here I was.. finally beginning to let go of Dellsey (my previous notebook) and *wham* this has to happen...

Notebook.. they are just like men... if you get along brilliantly, it's not meant to last forever.. and if you're stuck with each other, every flaw will come to light.

Bangs.Head.On.Notebook.

The ring

Call me insane. But there is something incredibly sexy about a man's hand when he's sporting that wedding band.

No, no, no - that does not mean that I go for married men.

It's just a statement of fact that a ring adorns a guy's hand in a way that nothing else can. Not even an expensive watch.

Of course, it shouldn't be something gaudy or flashy. Something in platinum with a nice sized diamond would be statement enough of his taste and his way of life.

I suppose it also says that this chap found what he wanted in life and has no qualms of telling the world about it.

And everytime I meet a guy with a ring on his finger, I cannot help but sigh inwardly... wishing that out there somewhere, is someone who is wearing the same that I had placed there.

Oh well... a girl can dream, can't she?

Up in the air

This post is inspired by a chap named Jack and a fuzz-ball affectionately called Grover.

Apparently, I am self-destructive and I have issues deeper than the river Nile. Okay. Maybe not the river Nile.. but well issues.

Why?

Cos I go and make things run over by the reindeer and such. Just because.

I have to put it down as a statement before I go to sleep with a smile on my face and the lingering scent of something I've never smelt before on the side of my shoulder.

1) I am not self-destructive.

• Just because I know what I want, what is good for me, what I can handle and what I can't, doesn't mean that I go around with a bubble over my head that says "Watch out! Time bomb!" Fine ~ given that said person has been on the other end of my blade before, but then again - it was not self-destruction.

2) I do not have issues.

• Okay.. maybe I have tiny bumbs in life that I occassionally carry around like a sack of potatoes. But they are not issues. In these past weeks, I don't think my thoughts have been any clearer on where I want to be. Fine - it's been all "I" but then again, we can't possibly speak of a cat that has yet to exist right?

So yeah.. just cos I envy you and your ability to compartmentalise your life into neat lil boxes, doesn't mean I have to be a walking time-bomb. I mean ~ hey! I think I had more fun, smiles and laugh in the last hour than I would have had at Gobo. And it was well worth it.

This is not a mean post. It's just neutralising the maggots in my head before they become.. well.. maggots. *grin*

I still maintain that one soul out there would be better off if he bit the bullet, stepped up to the plate and have things the way it's meant to be. Afterall, AirSupply didn't write the song Two Less Lonely People for nothing.

I fight the fights that I know I can win. Cos I've lost far too much in life to go on losing.

But I shall take your words into heed. And like you said, sleep on it for tonight.

The thing about plans is they don't take into account the unexpected, so when we're thrown a curve ball, we have to improvise. Of course, some of us are better at it than others. Some of us just have to move on to plan B, and make the best of it. And sometimes what we want is exactly what we need. But sometimes, sometimes what we need is a new plan.

Maybe what I need is a new plan.

AND I do not have a pseudo boyfriend. Lord knows if I did, there won't be that many chemical shooters to chase down.

Denial

The key to surviving is denial. We deny we're tired, we deny that we're scared, we deny how badly we want to succeed. And most importantly, we deny that we're in denial. We only see what we want to see and believe what we want to believe, and it works. We lie to ourselves so much that after a while the lies start to seem like the truth. We deny so much that we can't recognize the truth... right in front of our faces.

I dreaded coming back to the house today. It was a long day at work. I needed the rest. I had a good dinner. But I still dreaded coming home today. Today, of all days.

I guess it's because I knew that it was going to be an empty place that I return to. No one to say gleefully, "Hey - you're back" or to open my door for me and take my bag while I slip off my shoes.

You should know by now that I do not need any particular reasons to come crashing down from a high. My brain-cells has a mind of their own on when to come on and be logical, and when to just switch off. Today was one of those moments.

I miss it all. The company... the camaraderie... the hugs... the kisses... the comfort of collapsing on the couch and having a crook to cradle your head in on...

And as I turned the key in the door, I realised that my wanting never to leave my former workplace was cos it filled a void that would otherwise have been unbearable. Everywhere I turned, I was not wanting for company. And I had the occassional friendly face walk non-chalantly across the door, sliding between desks and such, to pop right at the side of my table just to say "hi".

Since having left Fairview for almost 7 weeks now, it's all begining to set in.. my reasons and my denials.

I hate feeling this way. And I would only admit here.

Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. We are tired, we are scared, and denying it doesn't change the truth. Sooner or later we have to put aside our denial and face the world, head on, guns blazing...

Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt. It's a freakin' ocean.

So here's my question for the night...

How do you keep from drowning in it?

For the boys

You know when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales? That fantasy of what your life would be -- white dress, prince charming who’d carry you away to a castle on a hill. You’d lie in your bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. Santa clause, the tooth fairy, prince charming -- they were so close you could taste them.

It's been a whirlwind 2 days of break for me. I cannot remember the last time I had such fun on a day off. It's always been work, work and more work, that when I have time to myself, I am at a loss. But the last 2 day was just amazing, catching up with friends and spending quality time with them and the children.

It was over one of these such occassion that I got embroiled in an *oh* so familiar discussion with one of my boys. Yes - one of my boys. I have decided that they need some form of labelling for the special places they hold in my life. So My Boys it shall be.

It happened quite out of the blue over a paw-paw (still not sure if it's the same as papaya or not, but heck, it was delish!) salad and it started as my mis-adventures over my latest Keep-Barb-Occupied escapade. Contrary to what the rest of my boys have been telling me about these online sites, maybe, just maybe, I had hoped that there would be a nice looking decent chappie who had lodge his picture and a write up bout himself out there.

But eventually you grow up and one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears.

Alas, I should have known better. After 3 weeks or so of this non-sense, I think I shall call it a day and be comforted by my thrashy novels instead.

So anyways, it was on that note (or somewhere in that vacinity) that Tall&Stable Boy (yes, I have yet to come up with a nick for you yet *grin*) commented sheepishly that maybe.. just maybe.. my criteria are a bit extreme.

Excuse me? A bit extreme? Err.. helloooo.. half the chaps that drop me a smile, wink or email are over 40 and have words like "vintage" in their handle!

Most people turn to the things and people they can trust.

But anyways, to cut the long story short... maybe he is right. Afterall, I could name him what I wanted in the next guy to come along and hey - he needs to have something out of every one of my boys! Yups - if I could have em rolled into 1, I would be the happiest champer alive!

As for which of their traits that I seek.. let's leave it for another day. When I'm really sure that they are no longer reading this. Can't have them inflated now, can we? *wink*

For it is the truth that if anyone of them rung, even at the 11th hour and said, "Hey - let's go out," I would cancel whatever plans I have and go. Even when I know that going out would mean sitting with them and watch their roving eyes, helping them along by the occassional finger-pointing, courage-drinking or simply be invisible when the occassion calls for it.

At the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don’t really expect it. It’s like one day you realize that the fairy tale is slightly different than your dream. The castle, well it may not be a castle. And it’s not so important that it’s happily ever after -- just that it’s happy right now. See, once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you. And once in awhile, people may even take your breath away.

But heck - they are my Boys for a reason. And as my bestest buddies in this world, they do take my breath away and .. it's alright. I'm happy right now.

So in essence, while they may grow up and grow away, for now... I am a lucky girl to have my boys!

My chick flick

I raided the DVD shop today and for once, I picked up a couple of romantic comedies.

Frankly, I do enjoy them. Just that in the recent dark and twisty mode, I have stayed away from them. So today, in the name of self-indulgence, I picked up The Holiday and Music and Lyrics.

Just finished watching The Holiday. And I must say that while the movie has 4 main characters (Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law and Jack Black), it was really more on

1. the budding romance between Cameron Diaz and Jude Law, and
2. the relationship between Kate Winslet and an old man played by Eli Wallach.
   

Jack Black.. kinda did not quite fit in.

Nonetheless, it is what it is - a romantic comedy, which always bring the feel good factor. It's a definite winner by my books simply cos:

• Jude Law IS the original McDreamy. So move over Patrick Dempsey. Except when Patrick Dempsey is in a white-based buttoned down cotton shirt with stripes.
• Half the movie was shot in Godalming, Surrey. That's not too far away from where I spent my year in the UK.
• It has a few nice songs and a few good lines.

So yeah. It is a good Labour Day and the movie choice was a splendid ending to it.

Lovely. Simply lovely.

It sounds corny, I know. I love corny.

My bad

This post tentamounts to a sheepish public apology to my dearest friend. It's not a necessity... but well... It wasn't fair to have ruined his night. While I didn't do it intentionally, by believing that my presence would not be missed, was a slight itself. And somehow, I keep messing things up.

And to think that not two weeks ago, another dear friend proved me wrong in my beliefs. Why do I find it so hard to accept that good things and people can happen to me? Why do I sometimes work so hard to keep myself from all these good things?

If only I could just remember the words of this song..

Life is beautiful, but it's complicated,
We barely make it.
We don't need to understand,
There are miracles.

Stand where you are.
We let all these moments pass us by.

It's amazing where I'm standing,
There's a lot that we can give.
This is ours just for the moment,
There's a lot that we can give.

Nobody likes to lose control. It's a sign of weakness, of not being up to the task. Still there are times when it just gets away from you, when the world stops spinning, when you realize your shiny little scalpel isn't gonna save you. No matter how hard you fight it, you fall. It's scary as hell.

Except there's an upside to the free fall.

It's the chance you give your friends to catch you.

I should not let my issues get in my way of living a good and happy life.

Maybe the rules of intimacy are something we have to define for ourselves.