Chasing Cars

On my drive in to work this morning, amidst the rainy weather that makes you wanna snuggle further into the blankie, I did a mental calculation of the phrase "It's been a while" i.e. quantifying actually how long a while actually is. Here are the results, based on persons I used to normally catch up with frequently:

The Bear - Last saw him before I left for Ireland, the weekend before. Which makes it mid of June? So today would be about 3 1/2 months. When am I going to meet up with him? Lord only knows cos something or other would come up!

The LegalBeagle - Similar to the Bear, last saw him before I left for my trip. How many times have we spoken since I came back? I think using fingers on both hands, I'd still have spares. But I'm not too worried cos he's well aware of it and all he needs to do is move me from the "friend" to the "client" category and pencil me into his lil black book!

Monday - Last saw him on National Day. And it all went downhill after with work, the stomach flu and everything else under the sun. When am I gonna see him next? Ah - when the moon, the stars, the sun and everything else in the cosmos align! Might as well be waiting for the Apocalypse to happen, I reckon.

Ballz - Sometime in March? Or was it April? I forget. Anyways, it was the one and only time he came to visit me in my new place. When are we gonna meet up again? Ah - I am not even gonna speculate on this one.

Now, don't get me wrong - I am not ranting. Merely taking stock - maybe because I am so free with my time, I have time to think about things like these. Sure - everyone has priorities and all. But here's the question: when did it all change?

As I said to Monday last week - I feel like I'm stuck in one isolated corner of the world. Like I went to Ireland and memos were sent to me but I missed them all. Memos that said "We're all gonna be staying away a fair bit now and we'll see you when we see you." So while his assurance is that I am not in that corner, and that all these are happening cos work obligations need to be met - I find it hard to believe.

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

LB used to fit me in between a late Thursday afternoon meeting and before his footy session at 7. The Bear would clump all his friends together for a Friday night meal cos he has only that one time slot for all of us. 

We've all been up to our necks and over-the-ears with work before, but it has never stopped us from making that 45 minutes to sit and have a cuppa. 

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

You guys know what to do...

Baby ~ We're on the Clock Now

I've been constructing in my head, for most of the day, a piece on "how time flies" when it occured to me that TODAY is the LAST DAY of SEPTEMBER.

Which translates to: The countdown begins. I am just 365 days away.

One year from today...

• I move away from my desk into the room.
• My name card will change ~ company name, logo and designation.
  
• I shift from being employed to 'self-employed'.
• I will no longer be partially accountable, but fully responsible.
• I assume full ownership of this business.
  

My gosh ~ is it only 365 days away? Feels like I still have so much to do and learn!

Hell I've better get on with it then eh? Like the title says: Baby we're on the clock now!

And I will resist the urge / need to drop a text to say as much.

Miles We Walk

It’s not every day that you witness the depth of a friend’s love for you.

I remember once, some time back, at the very beginnings of a relationship, I kinda made him sit down and watch one – just one episode of the show. I think what I told him then was that if he wanted to understand me, and how my mind works, he should at least watch one episode. He didn’t last 15 minutes. [Yes we're talking about you Bear :o)]

The supposed way of that wind blowing didn’t work out, but hell, he did spend quite a number of nights and mornings sitting on balconies and porches, wondering “Why?!” was I doing the things I was doing. And while we’re still good friends, I think he’s taken the easy way out of “You should know yourself better and what would work for you.”

Recalling that instant, today I was blown away when bff Mandy told me she took all her Grey’s dvd and watched it over again cos I was always referring to the show and making comparisons between the goggle life and the real life.

But from that moment on, not that I ever doubted it, I knew that no matter what, Mandy will always have my back, as I would always have hers.

It is rare to be able to pinpoint a moment when something changes ~ it’s not as easy as telling which way the wind is blowing where there are physical visual evidence to back your deduction.

And so I’ll say it again - It’s not every day that you witness the depth of a friend’s love for you.

Thank you *hugz*

Mysteries in Motion

I have been alcohol free for 28 days now.

Not that I drink every night. But truly, in recent times, the bottle of vodka in the freezer and whiskey on the sideboard would not stand the chance of seeing light. And it is a reason to be proud of myself: I tend not to take compliments nicely, what more shower one on myself.

One might ask: Why this sudden restraint? Why this sudden heighten consciousness of self?

I don’t have the answer. I rarely do. But then again, perhaps it’s because I never dared to even ask myself the same question, preferring to bury the night and all its monsters in the closet with either a good shot of Canadian Club or a couple of the sleep-happy M&Ms.

And so for once, I am laying there in my big empty bed, watching the monsters do their song-and-dance before my eyes and bravely tell them to bring back Mr Bojangles once again. And you know what ~ I think they’re getting tired of the same request, so they have not been round for a few nights now.

I am sitting here and finding it a bit hard to think that not so many nights ago; I absolutely and utterly caved in on myself. Collapsed literally into a crumpled heap. I am pondering this cos the heavy feeling is almost gone. My clarity of thought is back but here’s the deal – I’m not thinking. I am refusing to think. Simply cos I know I am not quite there yet so anything I think would be skewed. And still skewed predominantly to the side where I do not want it to be.

I’m not sucking it up either as well. Which is what I would normally tend to do as well. Suck it up, bury myself in work and throw the whole lot in, substituting pain with the tipperty-tap of the computer keyboard.

I am just leaving it be.

I am just being.

Perhaps by being very still, I would be able to see clarity of life – get out of the question, and accept that perhaps life is filled with nothing but mystery.

And the point to living – is simply to keep on believing.

Believing that all things ~ good, bad and ugly ~ happen for a reason. 

Count Your Blessings

We should always make a list of our blessings so that it reminds us that at the end of the day - there's always a silver lining to every cloud. So here goes, mine for the days:

1) Having a really good conversation with my higher authority at 5 where He 'smacked' me on the head and literally said - 'Quit whining, I hear ya already!'

2) Having my bff reassure me (inadvertently) that she is my bff for a reason ~ yes, Mandy figured it all out what is this 'hell' I'm in right now. It's quite an incredible feeling, to know that there is someone out there, close to you, who can read you like an open book, even though you've completely shut down.

3) Doing a solid day of work and getting majority of the bits completed even though deadline is a week away. This is a huge improvement considering I've been like Facebooking 8 hours straight for the last 2 weeks or so.

4) Managing to complete a 2-mile run and doing the distant of another 1 mile on the stepper machine ~ big pat on back, especially today I find out that a few years ago, some of my friends actually was shocked I had 'let myself go' physically and did not say a word to me *hrumph* Well, with the grand plan to go back to 5 hours of yoga a week, this is a good head start. Target goal - trousers have got to start falling off again (which means the 3rd trip to the alteration tailor) and the weighing scale to read 55 kg.

5) Getting that notification that I am one of three winners for this blog contest organised weekly by a certain bookshop. This one is utterly blowing me away cos it was written a long time ago and written for the Shooter. To think that the Shooter's words came be deemed as "a lovely piece" ~ *ah* heaven!

As Paulo Coelho wrote on his blog: Each and every morning brings a hidden blessing, a blessing that is only good for that particular day, for it cannot be kept or re-used. If we don't take advantage of this miracle today, it will be lost.

So yes, while there is still this nagging thought at the back of my mind that goes "why isn't the phone beeping?" or "why is there no reply?", it is not driving me crazy-up-the-wall or to my freezer where a full bottle of vodka lie sleeping.

I'm a work-in-progress but for once I am conscious of it and I am not pushing that self-destruct button.

With that, though we're only entitled to one blessing each morning, I had 5 miracles that followed.

Stupid Lemon

I'm being an absolute fuck-wit that I would want to slap myself with a trout right now. If I were a character in a book, I'd wanna pull my fucking self out of the pages and just whack my head so hard, the aftermath would make for a good gory read.

As Lorcan rightfully said in his blog: When you make a life-altering, perhaps even emotionally catastrophic mistake, you want to convince yourself you're doing it for the right reasons, whatever they may be. When you realise that you've been fooling yourself all along, to avoid pain or hurt, you slowly start to wonder just how fucking far into denial a person can drive themselves when they really want to.

I am insanely awake at 5 in the morning all because of one stupid line. One stupid line that says "if I never hear from you again after this email, I would understand." Cos NO - I would never fucking understand. I would never understand why I would toss words into the wind and then go assume that everything has been signed, sealed and delivered - WHEN I KNOW BETTER!

Unbelievable. How I get into these awe-inspiring moments which for one awesome second seems so right, but after many hours, just spells my name in bright-Hollywood-Hills-type prints. It reeks so badly of the me I don't want to be!

I am such an emotional fuck-wit that even I would not want to be with my own shadow. I am doing nothing but proving my own lemony self right yet again, and that I would never be able to reconcile myself to.

I'm running away.
I'm leaving this place.
Yeah, I'm running away.
I'm running away.

Bleed We Will

I cut the sole of my foot last night at home, stepping on a strayed piece of forgotten broken glass. For a silly lil cut, it sure did bleed like hell - making a mess of the living room floor right after I had given it a cleaning. And for a moment there, blood dripping like a hog-in-process-of-becoming-bacon, it occurred to me: I'm freaking losing blood but I'm not howling in agony.

And that is the thought that came back to mind as I read Paul's piece on his blog today.

Nobody wants to love someone and be hurt in return for their affections, attention, loyalty and devotion. It could be as a big a thing as a cheating partner, or as small as one who puts other aspects of life before you. Sometimes, in the name of "loving that person" we let it slip, write it off as a flaw or challenge you can live with, preferring to not deal with a small cut. Yet, we all know we have our limits. And once we've reached those limits, nothing can stop us anymore from falling head on into that big boulder at the bottom of the valley.

Life's lessons have taught me that if only I had stopped at some point, to look, to ask -  the big hurts in my life could be avoided. But at some points in time, I have chosen to ignore my life's lessons. Meandering along, sweeping things under the carpet, making myself believe that I am fine, everything is fine and I am alright. i.e. I've been avoiding my small cuts yet again.

You should understand better than anybody else.
You wrote the book on quitting.
Running, hiding, you've written a lot of books

 Because I keep telling myself, life cannot always be that bad. God's gotta give me a break at some point in time. Forgetting all the while that God has been giving me lil breaks along the way. And that the biggest break I can ever receive, is a break from my own wounded self.
 

I say out loud, I will follow you into the dark, and anywhere it is you want to go. But I do not say, we'll go about it MY way cos it's the only way I trust. And if we don't do it MY way, it's doom to not succeed. 

Oh, hmm, you're here now?
Haha.
You've wanted me out since the day I moved in.

I criticize those who dare not commit, simply cos I know that while I may dare, I am also not whole enough to withstand the challenges that a commitment brings.

Because you're incapable of anything that resembles commitment.
You lied to me, you said you were healthy.
That you were healed.
There's no fixing you, you're a lemon.

I don't want always want to be the hopeless lemon. For that is no way to live life - without hope. And I want to have hope. I want to have the courage to hope. I want to be fixed - once and for all.

And so, I have to bite the bullet - stomach the smaller cuts, the ones that might leave red all over the house cos we have no other choice but believe that they would heal much faster.

Clarity of Moments

I have come to realize that the world is made up of all sorts of different folks.

I may be the sort of person who would go out of my way to help a stranger, bring medicine for a friend, drive across town to sit with my best friend, and take on more than my plate can handle just because I do not wish to be seen as a letdown.

But not all folks are like me.

There are those, who are afraid of being there in the moment, and hence they shun the situation and come back only when things are cut and dried.

There are those, who have been in the moment, and have embraced what pain is. Hence, they have no fear about doing it again, if they had to.

And there are many other types – the two above being what I deem to be extreme cases. But people move across the spectrum, depending on what they are comfortable with.

What I may be, what my preferences are, I cannot deign to impose it on others. And hence, I cannot be seen to be feeling letdown by the points of the spectrum that they have chosen to take up residence.

I feel that in the turmoil of the last few weeks, I have lost sight of what wisdom I have had the good fortune to acquire, what knowledge I had been able to transform. And with that, my ability to accept people as they are, without questions, without needing to know the answers, without accepting that I may not know, but out there, perhaps in another fabric of time, someone knows and that is good enough.

I know I can get back to that place – of peace and serenity. Of acceptance and adventure. But in order to do that, I have to surrender once again to a higher will, authority and being. Perhaps in my arrogance, I have taken back what I had relinquished and thus have to suffer the consequences of my actions – said and unsaid.

I had wanted earlier today, to write that once I was loved. That once I had people to call my people. But those are not true. I could choose to hold on to those thoughts and continue my dark nights. Or I could vanquish my demons and remove them from my dreams through my own discipline of mind.

I believe I still have my people. I believe I still am loved. Perhaps not in the context or degree that I hold as an impression in my mind’s eye. Perhaps that is why it is also said – give people enough room, space and opportunity and they will surprise you.

I shall go back to spending my evenings in the only sanctuary I know where solace prevails, where arms unseen enfolds me in a warm and comforting embrace, where my tears being words unformed are read and understood. It is by far better than coming back to an empty house and letting the devil get into the details.

It may be a dark week ahead, one that I have to continue to walk. But if I allow it, it will be an adventure that will surprise me in the end.

Bring it on - I'm ready.

Over Breakfast

Seeing how I woke up at 5 this morning, I was in the office before 9. Thinking I should sit down, have a proper breakfast and read the papers, I chanced upon my smoking buddy from the 9th Floor - James, waiting for his coffee.

Now James is this dude that does something or other with the International Red Cross. Tall, big - he's like this teddy bear - except that he smokes - which makes him my buddy. Our usual conversations are normally about the weather, the traffic, the weather, our kids and occasionally, international humanitarian efforts and / or disasters.

As he read his portion of the New Straits Times and I read mine, conversation just drifted to why people do the things they do, even when they have no real reason to do so - 9/11, war, etc James cited that his latest pet peeve is this dude who has been on the local telly, justifying why he up and left his wife and 3 kids to marry a younger woman and calling it all in the name of fate.

What James said was this: he could never be like that dude. That while he may not be an outstanding Christian, he does understand what was said when he exchanged vows on his wedding day - for better or worse, till death do them part. And no matter how bad or noisy it gets at home, he would always be grateful for the noise cos with it comes love.

I tried to explain to James that there are people out there, who no matter what age they are at, do not and probably will not understand the meaning of the words "commitment" and "responsibility". That I should know - I've been on the receiving end of such individuals. Needless to say, it left James speechless.

The whole time it took to finish breakfast, I could not help but think that yes, there are men out there who are born, bred and built like James. That they have been there and done all that, and now know what is important and what it keeps to keep things and life going. And apart from James, I know of many other people who have done the same.

I went to Ireland for 2 weeks and came back, and life did not change. Why  one weekend is scaring the living daylights out of me utterly defies even my own twisted logic.

And when scared, I am immobilised. Everything freezes, and history tells us that the only way I get out of it is by doing something terrible or drastic, which I don't want to do - I have been said that I have grown from that - I do not want to regress.

So what do I do? Have a long continuous breakfast perhaps? I don't know and lost. So if you have a much better suggestion - please feel free to bring it on.

Choices

Sam from the office asked me a question yesterday evening that I could not give an outright answer. Surprisingly enough, it has been one that I have nicely avoided for the last couple of years. But as we know, these things tend to catch up on you mostly unawares. So la-di-da.

There's been a maggot in my head the whole of yesterday. The 2 1/2 hour trudge to USJ after work didn't help matters either ~ though it did allow for two runs of Linkin Park which does wonders to clear the fog sometimes.

So anyways, seeing how I'm here at my desk even before the sun has come up (geez, it's been a while since I saw the sky at this hour of day!), maggot is still there. All because there's a long weekend coming up and assumptions went wrong so expectation screwed. And because Barbsie is Barbsie - it all goes on a down-ward spiral from that point onwards.

Paulo Coelho wrote in one of his posts ~ Of course things don't always happen the way we wish they would. There are moments in which we feel we are seeking something that is not meant for us, knocking on doors that don't open, waiting for miracles that don't manifest themselves. And Yes Alex - the same PC that I cursed and swore at yesterday afternoon when the sky broke the rain clouds, and Barbs in the process.

And he goes on to say then that "you will erase everything you wrote up to now on your life's notebook ~ turmoil, insecurities, lies. And in place of all that, you will write the word courage."

Turmoil, insecurities, lies. On a good day, I do not even have to find any reason not to believe. But on a bad one (day, week or month), one can be so hard-pressed to believe even self-reasoning. Which was why I told the Bear that I hated how trust has to be so absolute.

I was gonna say in this post - to all who count themselves as my friend, my people - pull this maggot out of my head. For we've all been here, some more often than others, and we all know that we do not like this place we call here. But having sat through so many similar conversations, I also know that no matter what others say, I am the only person with the ability to pull myself out of it.

There's an old English saying ~ Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And I've been thinking and thinking and thinking - I've not even been fooled once, so why am I going off the deep end of the pool and feeling like I'm drowning? A wise man once told me - don't make me pay for the sins of others. And that person is wise indeed, saying to me in my face, a thought that I suppose others have not had the courage to say, even in their most of extreme exasperation with me.

As dawn breaks over the horizon, I reckon at the end of the day, I do not:

Need a greater capacity to hold anger for there was reason for disappointment or even for being upset. But anger or wrath - absolutely did not exist.

Need more guts to yell, rant or scream. The mere fact that despite a well disguised silence to elicit a response most out of the world is suffice to say that you know what goes on in my head - sometimes even better than I d myself.

Need to be more independent, cos if I did indeed became more independent, it would then remove all meaning to life - My life - and that is no way to live.

What I choose for myself, for my life and what to believe is at the end of the day as Mandy says - my own consequence. I can opt to look at the long weekend ahead in angst, mistrust and self-doubt. Or I can opt to look at it as a time to recharge, recalibrate and go on as any other day.

I've been here before and I know where here ends. All I need is courage to slay the demons and patience for normalcy to return. Doesn't mean I have to like it - but it is what I choose to do, and what I choose to believe.

Self Preservation

I wish...

I had a greater capacity to hold anger... that way I won't add on to the already existing "I feel like an idiot!!" feeling.

I had more guts to yell, rant and scream... that way I won't carry more frown lines and wrinkles on this already old face.

I had more courage to say "enough IS enough!"... that way I can rid myself of this addiction.

I was more independent... that way I wouldn't feel such angst when affection and loyalty goes astray.

But since I can't seem to achieve any of the above.. I think I best start making myself all squishy and tuck me into a lil matchbox. Perhaps, I should even put that matchbox inside the drawer so that I can't be squashed abouts no more...

Trying to Pull

Like I said earlier.. this is a bad foreign relations week / month / era... 

Bang bang down on the piano 'til I smash the keys
Listening alone with the melodies
Everything's gone and I don't know where

Lately when I get lost there's this thing I know
Even the dogs have somewhere to go
Everything comes if you just it be

Work, work, brighten the corners that will never see
Untangle the thoughts that you know what they mean
I hope that the answer doesn't come to late

And the rule of thumb don't apply on me
'Cause the table are turning

Trying to pull myself away
I'm caught in a pattern and I can't escape

Continue to live your life as if everyone and everything will always be there and one fine day you're gonna wake up and realise you've only been lying to yourself. You should know better - having been, done that and all.

If you don't start sitting up and realising that in it all, you've got more to lose than I do - then I'd have to say "I'm sorry - I can't help you. You're on your own."

I am always the last in line and I'm sick of it. I can't be pulled anymore...

No one can lose anyone,
because no one owns anyone.

Paulo Coelho

Fare the Well Charlie Boy!

Every time I think of Charlie, Robbie William's song comes to mind...

 So unimpressed but so in awe
Such a saint but such a whore
So self aware, so full of shit
So indecisive, so adamant
I'm contemplating, thinking about thinking
It's so frustrating, just get another drink in

Watch me come undone

After many furtive attempts to rid myself of this one introduction from years ago, I have finally succeeded today. HOORAY!

Perhaps, I had hoped it didn't have to come down to a whole load of recriminations. Alas, Charlie is never without any drama. Oxford-Harvard-education and Goldman-experience and all that jazz.

So rock and roll, so corporate suit
So damn ugly, so damn cute
So well trained, so animal
So need your love, so fuck you all
I'm not scared of dying I just don't want to
If I stopped lying I'd just disappoint you
I come undone

So an era of Charlie has come to an end (and it's pretty definite this I'm very sure off) and so it must be commemorated. For Charlie did indeed provide quite a number of laughs, shits and giggles - especially between Balls, WhiteBoy and I. Their man of envy - Ballz used to say "You've gotta hook me up with Charlie Barbs - he never runs out of lines!" and of course, with weed under the coffee table and coke on the dining table, he was also the man Whites wanted to meet.

But that's all washed and done with. Charlie's gotta carry his own cross and I want nothing of it. Nothing what-so-ever, not even front row tickets to watch.

Fare the well sweet boy. There's hope in you yet! Go do your growing up and we hope you don't fizz out your remaining braincells in the process! 

Learning

Ah the weekend has come and gone. Gratefully, this silly thing I call my body decided only to start defying orders to "Don't fall sick now" only on Sunday evening - which meant that I had a grand weekend with Lydia and Luke.

I'm trying to get them to move away from picture books to word-based books. It's an up-hill climb I tell ya but if it works then Yeay and Hooray for me! As I cuddled up with my latest book, Bone China on the carpet, Luke had his new set of Winnie-The-Pooh books (bought for only RM 24.90 from Bookxcess!!) and Lydia her High School Musical series.

As it was 9/11 weekend, the telly was also full of documentaries and war-type movies. We caught the commemoration ceremony on CNN on Friday, following it with Black Hawk Down.

But yesterday, we took it a step further. For there was a documentary on the History Channel entitled: 102 minutes that changed America. It of course came with a viewer discretion warning which I in-turn relayed it on to Lydia and Luke. Lydia decided it would give her nightmares. So did Luke actually, but he was too intrigued by what he saw on Friday night, he decided to risk it.

Now, it may not have been have graphic as the movie World Trace Centre and of course, 8 years on, we have seen the slamming and dust-cloud images too many times to experience an acute sense of despair and pain. But to a 6 year old, who was trying to remember where he was when it happened (most likely in heaven as an angel still was his answer) - it was quite a gripping afternoon.

Okay - I may be chastised for allowing Luke to see something such as this. I had doubts myself. But knowing him, he would be bugged not knowing the whos, the whys, the hows, etc so it was a risk worth taking.

Did he actually understand any of the 102 minutes? I'm pretty sure he did. Will he remember it? I'm also pretty sure he would. Simply because at the end of the show, as the 2nd tower fell, he snuggled up to me on the couch and said "Mummy, I'm feeling sad. Sad because a bad man did all this and killed so many people. And because of that, so many people are fighting wars now."

I hope that he remembers that documentary, that moment and that feeling. Because if he does, I know my son would never then be able to find it in him to do damage - to the world around him.

And I hope I remember that documentary, that moment and those words. Because if I do, I know I would always fight to be child-like in my thinking.

On Her Way

A lot of my friends have been telling me that I should not underestimate just how much Lydia understand about the way things are around her. I guess it's not so much that I did not believe them, but rather, I was more concerned that if she did understand her family structure, it would tell me more than I am able to handle right now.

Me and a couple of my closest persons have been very worried and distraught each time she has one of her meltdowns. Her latest told me that it wasn't so much the departure of person(s) in her life that is high on her list - but rather the fact of not having 'one' when all her friends do.

I've been speaking on mail with a colleague who is a retired psychologist with grown children of his own. His wife and him have very kindly been sharing their time with me on comforting emails, filled with gems of their experiences - professional and personal, in a grandparently manner. And their advise was simply this: 

1. It was alright to talk it out. It was NOT alright to sweep it under the carpet.
2. It was alright to not know what to say at times as a parent. It was NOT alright to pretend I knew everything and fib about it just to make the story flow.

So that's what I've been doing. Not pretending that her crying didn't upset me. Not pretending that she was in a normal family structure. Not pretending that her concerns were not real. And it appears to be working.

This weekend, Lydia brought a form home from Sunday School - it's the same form that I've been completing for her the past 3 years since she started. Today, the form was different - the was a 'dash' in the space marked "Father's Details." As she gave it to me with the instructions to fill up the rest, she casually added what she had done, following it with "because he's not coming back."

As simple as that. No fuss. No hysterics. No mama-dramas of any sort.

And yesterday, she asked if her dad and I had "broken up." Caught off-guard with a head full of shampoo, I uttered a miserably soft "yes" with a much louder "Where did you learn that phrase from?!" She decided not to answer me but instead tell me that it was alright - people get over it and meet over people. Ah life according to Hannah Montana, Jonas Brothers and High School Musical. 

Once upon a time, I did not think that my girl and I would reach a point where we could brooch this subject in this slightly non-chalant manner. But we're there.

I guess, the hopes of Gilmore Girls can still be hung on to. After all, as Mandy says - Rory and Lorelai always comes back stronger than before.

Organised Thoughts & Further Ed

BFF Mandy told me about some weeks ago that I should organise my thoughts, and as such, my blog. She said that since I was reading much more books, and actually writing about them - perhaps I would consider moving them into a separate site altogether.

Which is why we now have BE's Book Closet ~ a site dedicated to the books that I read - on my own, or assigned. 

As to why assigned? I've decided that instead of moaning on the fact that money's never enough, I might as well try and turn a hobby (and expensive one at that!) into a money making machine - i.e. by writing reviews on books. And note - it's review and not critiques ~ I'll tell you what I thought of the book, in good ole fashion Barb manner.

I would like to invite all of ChemShooter's reader to pop by there once in a way. And if you're there - be a nice soul and click on the NuffNang box at the bottom. You'd be supporting a good cause in the process.

And just what is this good cause? Why it's none other than contributing towards Barb being able to afford either 1) doing an English degree (oh Dad is so going to jump when he see this one!!) or 2) joining a summer school on writing.

So go on - don't be shy now! Click-click away!

Calling Mr President

Where are you when I need you?

So I can tell you that my telly broke down. Then you can tell me that it's only a telly and how I can use the useless hours I have wasted in front of it, watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy and whatever else it is I watch, to better use - like writing my book or reading more.

So I can tell you that that for 3 nights in a row I keep dreaming of dead people. Then you can tell me that it was only dreams and remind me again how death is a natural part of life, and walk me through yet again how I must always anticipate death as part of my reality.

I am feeling well and truly lost right now. To the point that even if I hear from you, I'd probably leave the message un-read and thus un-answered, the phone to ring until it goes to voice mail.

So I can tell you I've had a fight with my best buddy. Then you can tell me that you've always thought him to be a fair-weathered friend and have said so a thousand times to me. So I can find reason in me to defend him to you yet again, and in that process be reminded of all the goodness in him. 

Days like these, I wish you spent more time reading this page. And I'm asking you cos you're the only one who bothers finding out what's happened to me when you don't hear from me, or when messages and calls goes unanswered. You're the only one who doesn't assume that I've gone underground yet again, or if you do, you deign to find out there and then what's caused me to shut myself off from the world I know and love.

I'm asking you so you can remind me, that by defending those who you think do not deserve it, there is goodness in me too. 

No Sanctuary

It is a bad foreign relations week. If I were an embassy, I would have the doors shut, the staff sent home and a sign saying "No sanctuary here."

I have literally unraveled at the seams at this goodwill, good karma building section. It has been such a long time since I've been here - this dark and twisted side that I've forgotten how to deal with it. Thus allowing it to brew, stew and fester like an untreated sore.

Truth be told, I really have no real reason to be here. But I can't muster the will to get out of here as well. 

Though I know I should - I'm burning bridges one day at a time, keep this up and soon there'll be none left.

Though I know I should - I'm right back at saying things in a manner that is meant to slice, dice and severe.

Though I know I should - I'm running away from persons who are important to me, persons capable of pulling me out, because somewhere in this pea sized brain of me, I seem to lay the fault at the doors of these same people.

If you've never been here, and if trying hard to comprehend what it is I mean - I'm sorry to say, you're the last person I would wanna help. Not when it feels difficult to breathe - literally. Not when I can envisage a vice, tightening its grip around my heart, making my chest cavity feel about as big as a 25 ml jam jar.

My dad once told me, in a distant memory flashback, that if I thought I needed to talk to someone, I should. If I thought I was going slightly off my meter, I should not be afraid to come out and say I need help.

I laugh at this memory (when he said it exactly, I cannot recall) cos right now, if I allowed myself to speak - to anyone, I am very sure that the words to come out would be this: 

Tell me what my use to you is - cos that's all I am here for ~ to be of some personal use to you. Best you tell me now so I can jot it down in my "What's Barbs good for" lil black book, which I can then use to justify my meager existence in this place we call world, and perhaps feel slightly good about myself.

And apart from me talking to a professional, another poor, kind soul is going to get hurt - see I told you things are meant at this very point to drive right thru.

Which is probably why the RSS feed to my Facebook page has been removed. Cos I cannot bear having persons, seemingly my friends, read this and go "Oh wow - she's really gone off her rockers!" Though I really shouldn't care who judges me - your opinion is not the sum of my existence. My use to you is.

I wish I can just get to the bottom of this devil's cauldron in a flash. So that the only other way out is up.

Or maybe solitude is the answer - that way, no one comes near enough for you to stay abouts long enough to be of any use.

Julia wants to be on her own

Sharing her thoughts, she is all alone

Dreaming of the things she wants to be

Where Julia dont belong

Dress For The Best

My friend Al, a male 30-something made this comment on his Facebook today: "If young adult fashion trends continue on this path, soon all colleges will be built next to the sea: can't run a nudist beach without sand, can you?"

And I fully concur with Al - though my opinions extend beyond the college environment. Take a look around you - be it in the office, in a place of worship, in a restaurant / cafe / mamak, in a shopping mall. Don't you think people no longer have any sense of what is appropriate and what is not anymore when it comes down to their dressing?

The number of people falling into the sensibly kitted out category seem to be no longer the majority ~ I mean it would be that the fashionistas and the walking-closet disasters were the top 10th and bottom 10th percentile, with everyone else falling in between. But we appear now to be the middle 20% only!

And you would think with the Internet and so many fashion magazines and articles being easily available and affordable these days, people would be able to develop a common sense when it comes to dressing!

Perhaps every establishment should do as the churches do these days: Boldly display what is appropriate and what is not.

Perhaps then people would start wearing the right clothes THAT project the right image, NOT ONLY FOR THEMSELVES but the establishment that they represent - either by virtue of working there, or being there.

After all, the office is not the wet market, nor is it the set for Madonna's remake of her music video for Holiday or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

Fussing

I am 34 years, 1 week and about 4 days old and I have 2 friends who still owe me my pressie. Don't get me wrong - it wasn't insisted on my part, but volunteered on theirs. And it's nothing fancy - just dinner (or lunch) which is an excuse or reason for us to catch up.

The LegalBeagle has claimed that there is a 30 day 'mourning' period - so yeah, boy I shall hound you for our feast at La Bodega after the 28th of this month.

But the Bear - the Bear is a whole different kettle of fish. Cos the Bear has just cancelled on me AGAIN for the 2nd time on this account.

Now traditionally, I would let it slide. But in truth, I cannot be asked to reply his text of "Heya Barbsie, got late mtg today so gotta cancel dinner. Sorry yah." cos it's well and truly getting to be an old ruse. 

Add to that, the Bear is the same person who kicked up a fuss when I said I was having dinner on the actual itself with the folks at home cos mum was in recuperation and it was Friday - the day my kids come home. After laying it on to me as to how it has been a tradition since we became friends, and that I could go pick up my kids after instead ~ it is indeed upsetting to think that I have been cancelled on not once but twice.

And I know I'm stirring up massive beef here but hell - my tv's broken so it's allowed - he used to chastise me for 'making excuses' for a certain someone when they had to work late and call in a rain check. I'll have you know - at least said person had the decency to be really sorry for standing me up at those times, which is more than a "sorry yah".

Perhaps Bear is assuming that as one of his good friends, I should know better how crazy his schedule can get. But he is also forgetting that good friends don't always stay that way unless some effort is made on BOTH sides to keep the friendship as it is - which is good.

As Mandy says - don't put your plans on hold until you are sure he's on his way. I'd really hate to say it out loud but there is a whole lot of truth in what Mandy says.

So yes Bear - I am officially mad with you this time and you can keep the griddle pan with its red ribbon for yourself. It should really be the last thing you give me - I might just clobber you on the head with it till kingdom come!

*Hrumph* Hell hath no fury like that of a girl denied her dinner!

Darn - It's Just a Box!

I often marvel at the many things in my life that I take for granted. And today, the one thing I shall contemplate upon is this wonderful box, that comes in various sizes, called the television.

Since it exploded on the scene back in the 1930s, the tv or telly as some calls it, has become a must-have in almost every home, with some homes having more than 1 or 1 in every room of the house ~ I should know cos that was what we had when we moved from JB to KL over a decade ago - a telly for the each of the 4 persons living under the same roof.

Over the last month or so, I have been wondering why the picture didn't seem to fit the screen of my LG anymore. For starters, I had the thought that the kids have been fiddling with the remote and zoom settings. Yet, the 'N' in AXN never did seem to wanna be seen no matter how I adjusted the darn thing.

Needless to say, because I went to an all-girls school, we did not have the lesson that all guys seem to have where the mechanics of electrical and mechanical items are explained in detail. So it didn't occur to me that my trusty set of 9 years was on the verge of blinking out of me. And blimey it did with a lil soft *poof* to boot!

So yeah, the goggle box in the house has died and my dilemma is that no one seems to wanna repair it. Sure, I can get a brand new one for about RM 250 more than what I would pay for the repair. But that doesn't mean that I should go do it just because! I did pay over a grand for my 29 incher and hell, no way am I gonna throw it out just like that!

But all said and done, and after one evening alone at home, my conviction and my stubbornness is failing me ~ the sound of the cars from the highway just on the yonder is not going to sustain my sanity.

Try as I might to tell myself I am not missing Monday night lame-o reruns on all the Astro channels, I am missing the ritual of tucking my feet under me and channel surfing while eating my dinner. I am missing the noise of different voices coming from it even though it's outside in the living room while I tap away on the computer. I am missing the silly remarks and witticism that some hosts spew out, giving me legitimate reason to talk to myself or laugh out loud alone.

Darn it that it's just a freaking box! But it sure has left a gapping hole in my day, and no amount of Facebook games or reading is gonna make up for it.

Barbsie without her telly is just making for trouble.