Writing and Living

Interesting enough, HBO is showing a movie called "The Jane Austen Book Club" ~ a tale of a group of women, reading JA's books and realise that the line between fiction in writing, and in life, is so thin, it's mostly blurred.

This point is ringing rather clearly right now as I have just finished reading "Double Fault" by Lionel Shriver, which is a story about a young couple, pro-tennis players and their marriage. Not really up my alley, yet so much of the conversational text urges out dust-bunnies buried under tonnes of rubble.

It was an easy read - 300-something pages done in two nights, simply cos I could understand why Willy (the female lead) could get so stuck in her rut of self-destruction using deadly poisonous language (words chosen and presented in tones precisely meant to stab like a steak knife through the heart), and Eric (her book husband) eventually wore down in defeat.

While I am not an expert in the female psyche, I can say for sure this: Once an idea is rooted in our minds, there it'll stay.

Which is why we don't do the things we used to do anymore: like ask questions, verify information, ring up hotels to cross-check the alibi, or pick up the phone and call.

Cos there is simply no purpose in it: it wouldn't set things any more right than it is already wrong. And again said ~ once an idea is rooted in, there it'll stay.

As I said before ~ I have my own conclusions and my own reviews. And I'd rather be proven wrong (like buying this book!) than be proven right.

10 Years and 11 great-grands on

10 years ago today, I rose to go to work as usual. It was just another ordinary day at the office but how the day ended was a different story altogether. For somewhere close to midnight, the house phone rang and it was Mum calling to inform that Gramps have up and left us for a better place.

A man of few words, Gramps was the ever observant one. I would never forget that Christmas of '91 when he opened his house to my friends and the kids from church to party the night away. A stern man, we were all kinda shocked that he had his eyes wide shut to the on-goings of teenagers that night and early morning.

When we were younger, Gramps would take us to the wet markets with him, stopping to buy my fave "baik-chiang-kueh" for breakfast. As we grew older, these drives were replaced with the shuttles to music and tuition classes. He never raised his hand in anger or discipline to any one of us, and for the life of me, I can only recall him intervening on one parental fight in the many years we all lived under one roof.

We were in awe of him for his words of praise were far and few ~ actually I cannot remember any. He was not a man we would trade jokes with. But we knew never to incur his wrath as we learn from experiences of Sunday morning premier league recaps on the telly and when the Thomas Cup games were on ~ "Bloody Bastard" could be heard when the teams he rooted for fell short of his expectations.

My memory of him today is a poignant one ~ Bernie's wedding, the year before he passed. A man who once stood tall (Gramps was close to 6 feet in height!) and proud, looking frail and unsure like a whizen grape in his dinner suit that had become two sizes too big. Dependant on others for moving about, dependant on a blot of cotton so as to not make a mess of himself. But he made it to the wedding of his grand-daughter and we stood just a wee bit taller to help him make up for his loss of height.

10 years has passed but I can still remember him pulling his car out of the drive way, stopping at the gate, rolling down his window and handing me my 50 cents "wage" for holding the gates open.

10 years has passed but I can still remember his tailored-made grey "bermuda" shorts, his "moon-glasses" and his impeccably shined bruges.

10 years has passed and I still hold him to saying "yes" to giving me his battered grey Nissan Datsun when I asked him weeks before his passing, as he laid on his hospital bed.

10 years has passed and not a day goes by that I do not wistfully wonder what he would be like as a great-grandpa to 10 great-grandkids.

10 years has passed and we still miss him dearly, man of few words that he was.

He was one of those individual who needn't say very much ~ you could and would always feel his presence in the room.

Andrew Er Soon Mong
23 November 1916 - 28 April 1999

The Best Things in Life

I have finally concluded my grading of almost a hundred essays written by teenagers on the title "The Best Things in Life" for this year's Impac Young Writers Competition.

It was a daunting task and as always, I was the tough taskmaster. Sad to say, no one scored over a 75 from my pile and I am thinking - maybe I was way to harsh with my expectations way up there. Yet, try as I may, I could not find one that really warranted me going "THIS IS THE ONE!"

I asked my childhood friend - were we that clueless and inarticulate when we were at that age? And his reply came in one that surprised me ~ Maybe we were but age makes us think otherwise. Or perhaps, we're hoping that we were not.

Yes, perhaps I am hoping that I was not that naive back then to think that life would be all rosy and sunny as soon as I step out into my own.

Cos if I thought really hard, I would fully agree with these kids, where they are coming from ~ that the best things in life, at this particular station of life, would be: family, friends, tove (young love, old love, love spurned), the ability to dream and to have fun, good health (physical, spiritual and mental) and money. Oh and let's not forget chocolates, and my personal favourite ~ the colour pink!

One of my former bosses made it a point to constantly remind me that people are made up of different shapes, sizes, experiences, education levels and that I must take into account all these factors when I size someone up.

We can never judge the lives of others,
because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation.
It’s one thing to feel that you are on the right path,
but it’s another to think that yours is the only path.

Paulo Coelho

I may have done more things and gone thru a whole lot more than any of these kids have, or ever will but that does not mean mine is the ONLY storyboard. And as most of them said in their essays: Who's to say what the "best" are, when each of us have different values and walked different paths?

Sunny-Sides Up

It's sales season here at work, i.e. time to have the customer dot the "i" and cross the "t". This is my first full sales cycle and yes - the rush of adrenalin is there.

It's a long road ahead - one that will go on until August, when the monies all paid up and the kids start to board their planes to Ireland.

But I am grateful that 20 days in, since the 1st set of offers went out, we've broken our sales egg already. Not with one but with two.


Two down - 14 more to go!

Small Person, Simple Pleasures

It's Luke's 6th birthday today. Time flies - 6 years has gone by and my lil boy is already a big boy. And I'm mighty grateful that my boy has not been raised to sweat the big stuff.

His birthday outfit was not branded, it was bought during the last sale at some department store. 

His birthday gift from me was a simple, plasticky pair of binoculars and it's not left his side since he opened it ~ no, he's not learnt how to use it to stare into the bathrooms of the next block to look at the ladies in the shower :o) 

His cake was a small nondescript chocolate cake, his gift from Grandaunt Cat.

His party was a mixture of home food cooked by grandma and grandpa as their gift to him.

He spent about half hour at the shopping mall arcade, running from one mechanical play-thing to another, going on rides, racing cars and shooting down monsters.

Yet, to him - it's his day, a great day! And there's still a dinner to look forward to of satay with Daddy and Auntie Natalie.

I may not be able to give my boy a lot of the finer things in life as yet, but I think I'm giving him the right values as it is.

That it's not the individual price of things, but the sum of love and sacrifice that went into it.

So yes, 6 years have gone by in a flash. But you know what ~ I think Luke (and Lydia) and I are doing alright, with no lack of love and small blessings in our lives!

Satelite Thoughts

I treated Mandy and Sam (separately) to a lunch of pasta with roast potatoes, and roasted pork belly with home-made barbeque sauce today. "What's the occassion?" asked Mandy as we sat down by the walkway of KLCC park. No occassion, actually. I thought it'd be nice for us to have a nice lunch that doesn't cost anything. Plus the side of belly has been in the freezer waiting to be cooked. Operative word: waiting.

The thing about old friends, friends who have been with you thru hell and saunder ~ they know just what you're not saying, but needing said out loud. And today's lunch was just that - what I did not want, but needed. A discussion of the many possibilities as to a week of silence.

I did not want to give Mandy the phone number to call. Not that my curiosity died. Nor have I reached my threshold either (but hey - I'm getting there!!!) It's simply me, being me - reaching a conclusion point in my head, and staying there.

If I beg and if I cry...

Would it change the sky tonight?

Will it give me sunlight?

Should i wait for you to call?

Is there any hope at all?

Are you drifting by?

So no, I will not consider any other possibilities. If I am wrong, then I am wrong. 

I try to reach for you, 

I can almost feel you

I'd much rather think wrongly, then to think right and be proven wrong in the end.

You're nearly here

And then you disappear

Unsaid.. Again

Okay. I'm saying it.

I'm hurting. And there's jack to be done about it. Quite simply cos I'm too proud to come outright and say it.

But yes, I'm hurting. And it's the last thing I would tell you.

Week 3 and counting

It's a long, long month.. and it's not even the middle of it as yet.

I honestly did not think it would be this hard. But in truth, it is. And it's messing with my mind, my sleep, my whole-being. 

Yesterday, as I stepped into the shower, I was thinking ~ "I'm not cut out for this. I'm gonna bolt and run - in the opposite direction. This is far too hard and I do not need to put myself thru this". And I know a whole load of my friends would so agree with me, and be glad that I am seeing their light.

But even if I did see their light and threw in the towel ~ I know deep down, I'd still be walking around feeling as if I'd lost an arm.

Empty Chair

It is official - this house has been warmed with the first family dinner held here tonight. Over a feast so nicely sponsored by kind-hearted souls, 5 adults and 5 kids sat down to a night of idle banter and happiness.

Each time I host my family over to dinner at my place, I feel a pang with that left over empty chair. And tonight, it was more profound as somebody sits down to yet another room-service dinner in a room that has become "home" for 2 weeks running now.

"I am so home-sick and so looking forward to being able to come home soon," said the text message yesterday and I really cannot blame him. 2 weeks away is a long time. And while his home may not really feel like home to him, it's the bigger definition that he's falling back on ~ his friends, his routine of activities and hopefully somewhere in that equation, me.

I wrote on the comment box of a friend of mine when he posted his thoughts of missing his partner, that I wished I had his guts. And it's really quite the laugh ~ especially when my 8 year old can say "Just pick up the phone and dial mummy!"

There are certain lines I will not, dare not cross... a year on in - this is still one of them. And quite possibly, there will always be that empty chair at the other end of the table the next time I sit down with my folks, brother and sister-in-law to dinner.

If only there were some other way...

I want to be next to the one I love.

I don’t care what this will cost me.

I don’t care whether this will do my life good or bad.

I don’t care whether this person loves me or not.

All I want, all I need is to be close to the one I love.

The Good Person of Szechuan

Bertold Brecht

Of Eggs and Bunnies

I am concluding a week of astinence from all forms of meat in my diet. It has more or less reduced me to having one main meal a day but on Day 7 - it doesn't seem to bother me at all anymore.

"Why are you going vegetarian?" asked Mandy earlier on in the week. And it has been something I have been pondering on as I prepare myself for the biggest feast in the Christian calendar of Easter ~ the Resurrection of JC from the dead. Having began this "ordeal" by likening it to the Hindus shaving their heads and breaking coconuts in return for favours asked (Seeking Divine Intervention was how I had put it), I have come to realise that it is not so much of what I am asking, but what I have received so far.

I have always had this up-and-down relationship with my religion. There are days when I am full of praise and then there are days when I could look at the heavens and curse and swear, asking in my loudest voice WHY?! I used to think that if I lived faithfully by His Word, I would be spared all misery and misfortune. But then again, God never promised us an easy life ~ at the core of it, as said by the priest in my church ~ We have to take the good WITH the bad. 

I am currently sitting on a panel of judges for an essay writing competition with the title - The Best Things in Life, and 15 essays in (ranging from an UMRAH pilgrimage, to Money and Internet), I have come to reflect and realise that the Best Thing is Life is the human ability to Adapt, Evolve and Survive. For without these 3 elements, we would never progress or grow. But most important, we would not be Living as we ought to be.

As it was reported in an article today - "Now the professionals of prayer are praying, saying mass. Everybody prays: popes, archpopes, bishops, archbishops, excellencies, eminences, Saint Peter and Saint Paul, and yet Jesus Christ sends us an earthquake," said Francesco Pagani, an aged survivor sitting in one of the emergency camps in Italy's earthquake disaster zone. Reading that line made me want to go up to that old man and say ~ at least you're still alive!

It may sound so self-righteous of me, and I do beg your pardon for having that line of thought. But it is the truth in the end. Despite all the hard luck, pains and suffering, HIS life was indeed spared.

And so as we head towards commemorating the day when a mortal person broke ranks and exposed himself to be God the Son as the be-all-and-end-all way of opening his mortal peers' eyes to his divinity, let us also celebrate the fact that WE are ALIVE today.

May the Peace of the Risen Lord be with one and all this Easter!

Billie's Here

In recent months, you would have read on this lil froggie project that Ben and I have been working on. 

I'm very pleased to say that we're now ready to go to market and you can learn all about Billie at his new home of http://billiebuddies.webs.com

So far, abut 5 people have been invited to view and give feedback on Billie and what we're trying to do with him. Thankfully, each one has been very kind (and forgiving!) in their comments.

We hope to have the products rolled out soonest possible (the one holding back is yours truly ~ person of lil faith and hope!!) but do go on by and take a peek, walk around a bit, have a laugh with a lil green frog. 

And yes - drop me a line either here or there itself, to let me know your thoughts. OR better yet ~ pledge your support!

It's a day I never thought would materialise, all said and done.

In Corners

"You need to let go of the traumas and past hurts," said my dad one fine evening.

As much as I have been the coolest person on earth, I cannot honestly say this two cities thing is not taking a toll on my mental health, even tho I am not going down on any rabbit's holes... I know simply cos when any one says a certain word, or makes a comment ~ my skin starts to crawl, my mind jumps 3 steps ahead and I have to reel myself in before I break and start hyperventilating.

Sigh.. such tragedy...

Missed Days

It's April already. Which means that it's the birthday month - Luke on 18th and Lydia on 27th.

I had wanted to do something special for them as their pressies this year: making them a scrap book that they can keep and flip thru when they feel like it (cos all the photo albums are packed away ~ far, far away.) And so, last night, I sat down to open the box that has remained sealed, to look for a selection of photographs for each of them.

With Lydia, I was spoilt for choice. Even before her 1st birthday, she had already taken enough pictures to fill one big album. And even her baby book was stuffed with all sorts of things - notes, scribbles and more photos.

Luke on the other hand, I have very little to work with. In fact, it broke my heart that our first picture together was only taken at his christening - 4 months after. His baby book hardly has anything written in it ~ I can't even recall when he took his first steps in my effort to "backtrack" data entry.

"How do I go back to then, to do it right for Luke?" I asked Mandy over lunch today. A rhetorical question I know cos obviously I can't go back in time. And even if I could, do I want to?

They always say, the first few months are the most important months in a child's life. Yet, I missed all of that simply cos I was there yet not quite there. Mandy and mum tried to assure me, it really wasn't all my fault ~ this lapse of memories for my lil boy. "You were grieving" was how Mandy phrased it. But it's no consolation.

Luke between 3 and 6 months

For him to have those cherub cheeks in the photo above, I can stake no claim of pride. For without Mum, he would still be the longbean at that age as he did at birth.

I can only hope that as time passes, I can make amends to this young man, who is above average in intelligence and maturity for a kid his age.

Luke aged 5 and 9 months

Obviously *Duh*

o⋅pin⋅ion ~ noun

1. A belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty.
   
2. A personal view, attitude, or appraisal.
   
3. The formal expression of a professional judgment
   
4. A judgment or estimate of a person or thing with respect to character, merit, etc.
   
5. A favorable estimate; esteem
   

It is my opinion that each person likes to believe their point(s) of view can stand some amount of validation; that if they had to take their stand on it, their opinion would prevail.

However, we all know that sometimes in life, opinions can be unwelcomed. Be it cos the receiver is doing the ostrich thingy of sticking their head in the sand, or simply cos hey - truth hurts and opinions can sometimes be merely stating the obvious.

I have been reading (due to thumbs being sore from idle twiddling) this online forum and one particular post caught my eye. The situation is one that a number of girls would likely go through in life. But honestly, reading the thread of thoughts on display, it brings me back to the phrase from the Bible - Let him who has not sin, cast the first stone.

And it got me thinking - it was not a posting placed, asking for your opinions. It was a posting placed, asking for help, for possible solutions. If you have neither - keep your bloody thoughts in your own head for Christ's sake! Often people state what comes to mind, without first going back to the baseline - define the operative and go on from there. 

The next time someone says to you - HELP, let us try and keep in mind that they are asking for our help, not our judgements. And we'd do best keep our judgements to ourselves, and offer solutions as asked.