lips of an angel

At what age would you reckon that you’re old enough? Is it the big three O or the mid life crisis marker? Or you think that age is just a number and because of that, you are always forever young? 

It just struck me as I was wandering in my nothingness (again) today that very soon, I’ll hit the big three O barricade and that thought was the most daunting ever. Being thirty would make me feel old, but I am not necessarily old, if you get what I mean. At this juncture, then I would be inclined to agree that age is just a number. But beyond those numbers, with age, come a whole load of other responsibilities and expectations and what-nots. Well at least for me, I reckon my career should have reached a certain height or milestone by the time I have lived almost one third of a century, three decades to be exact. 

Certain areas of my maturity level would surpass those of my peers; I know that for a fact. However, my inner child still refused to grow up over the years. I am still as attached and loving to my bolster since birth until today. My mother has threatened to throw my bolster away on many occasions and those threats seldom go away without a tough resistance from me. I still poke fun at people and I am still a prankster at heart; so much so, most of my friends and colleagues could not help but whack me while being caught in the midst of my prank acts.

I continue to watch cartoons and laugh at the corniest jokes…imitate my favourite cartoon characters every now and then without much shame. I have enough Spongebob Squarepants to make the kids in the neighbourhood yellow with envy. My collection has expanded because I continue to receive the memorabilia as signs of affection and care. 

What is expected of one when one is old enough? I know I would not give up my inner child regardless. I attribute my wacky sense of humour to the inner child. Children are often the most creative and honest lot. They speak their mind and that’s where originality and imagination brew. I don’t mean that I can get away if I speak my mind and offend people though having said that, because I am still an adult in some technical ways. For one, I am living in the shell of an adult, ok, body of an adult. 

Perhaps that’s how I coined my creative terms of “raining cows and elephants” instead of the conventional “raining cats and dogs”. You know how we like to whine about certain people but it’s impolite and potentially life hazardous or career ending move to mention their names during your verbal stoning sessions? Well, when I whine about those people and their occasional incompetence, I don’t mean to backstab them to death. Instead I relate their incompetence into a funny series of story. And I don’t reveal names either; I usually call people who annoy me as “eeork”. Don’t ask me the origin of “eeork”, my inner child just came up that name. You’d be surprised that this “eeork” term trend soon caught up with my colleagues like wild fire in the forest. It’s not exactly impolite, but a funny name calling tones down the stressful situation quite immediately. 

But there’s this dilemma about aging…if you’re exposed to too much hardship emotionally, you might undergo premature aging emotionally. Once you reach a certain age, you’re expected to act like the age group you’re in. If three years olds play with clay dough, when you’ve reached the twelve years old play group, you’re expected to play with Lego instead. Society has cast this very costly stigma on age and the social norms associated with age. 

If you’re in the twenty five to twenty nine years of age group, you’re expected to be married or perhaps even have a kid in tow already. Late bloomers will be cast as the outcast, but is that an aging (de)fault?

Usually I feel old when I see schoolgirls in their school uniforms because truth betold, I have left school for donkey years. However when I see them dressing like people in my age, I feel young again in my jeans and t-shirt. Preserve your youth, I am inclined to shout at them, dressing up like your elder sister before your time comes is not that cool actually.

When I laugh senselessly while watching cartoon flicks, I know I am far younger than the chic schoolgirls flaunting their clubbing photos in Facebook. So age is really a gravity defying subject because nothing can truly hold age down, well, except for death maybe. 

There are times that I know I act like an adult, mind the word “act”. You have to hold your laughter when your boss said something not right whereas a kid would have laughed her heads off. Sometimes being an adult only mean that you follow the crowd in the Emperor’s New Clothes. Who was the real adult, the boy or the crowd?

I don’t know, as much as I think I can preserve my inner child and yet grow with the numbers, the aging thought is still a daunting one. Not to mention, on the journey along the road to aging, there will be many more wedding hurdles to cross. These hurdles cause the most stress to the inner child because of peer pressure. Hey, kids have peer pressure too remember? If Mary has My Little Pony plush, Jenny wants one too. If Jimmy has Hot Wheels, Peter wants one too…sigh, the growing up years never stops to be stressful sometimes. Oh well… 

Oh, and I still also lick my ice-cream the wrong way by the way

The year 2008 is fast coming to an end…strangely, when we approach December, it has always been the same sentiment that the year flew by us so quickly and yet as we crawl through the months of the year without any public holidays such as April or June among other months, it almost felt like the year was stagnant.

I cannot remember how I started my year, but one thing for sure was I didn’t do a new year’s resolution for me to maneuver the year better. 2008 felt like another career year where I was busy finding my footing in my career milestones. Ever since I graduated from university, I think my focus had been career with occasional deviation to love of course. The love scene had not been successful; sometimes it felt like a Russian roulette in a poker room. 

As I grow over the years, I have developed this strong belief that if I end the year on a good note, naturally I’d start the following year on a good note as well. So how do I define what constitute as ending the year on a good note? Well, for one, I would like to go on a short vacation from Christmas and spill over till New Year’s Day. It sounds too pompous and lavish you might say considering the recession is now lurking. 

Recession or not, year after year I have been spending my youth wasting away on joy because the loneliness was too much to bear. I have not been ending on a good note to start on a better note. In the history of my living years, I was probably only happy when year end arrives in my childhood days. But even so, there was the uncertainty if I would be allowed a ticket back to Penang to spend my holidays with my cousins or continue to count the cracks on the ceiling at home.

2009 brings much uncertainty as I try to visualize how the year will be. Of course, fall short of being a clairvoyant, I obviously cannot foresee the year much, but on a personal note, I am not sure where I will be or what I will be doing. 

This year has brought along some travel luck for me as I was fortunate enough to have been to a couple of nice places. But all good times must come to an end, maybe that’s the agreement we signed with the One up there to remain mortal for a certain period of years so that we continue to thrive to get the chance to feed on the joys of life.

I hope next year will allow me travel opportunities. Hopefully by then, the City of Angels would have the peace and harmony restored because I am looking forward to going back there next year. I also hope that I will find heart and time to plan a trip to Melbourne as well. 

Traveling brings life back to me because I honestly cannot stand living here for too long, it drives me crazy. Instead I love to be immersed in the goodness of a foreign land and soak in their hospitality. In the places I have been to so far out of my country, the hospitality of the host countries has been commendable and memorable. If you think home is more than 1 ocean away in a foreign land, think again. The foreign hospitality was precisely what our homeland had lacked; otherwise the lure to spend money traveling out of the country would not be strong in me. If only we emulate the hospitality of the others, perhaps it is only then apt we chant MH (Malaysian Hospitality) everywhere we go…

Oh dear me, it’s Sunday again. I know I don’t have much to do today and very soon, I’d be going through my hand phone contact list and might just start to send out messages to tell people that I am very depressed blah blah blah.

In the past, some might offer words of encouragement and sympathy. But I suppose they soon realized that it’s pointless doing that because I seemed to be running in circles. Guilty as charged.

Though I never thought that I’d be a difficult child, but in fact I am one. And still is one. I pity my friends sometimes…because I always thought that they never cared about me though all of them truly cared for me. Half the time I am just so engrossed in my own world that I kept on lamenting that I felt so cut out from the world, my friends and family. But the question is, did I even make any attempts to see them? Or the least that I could do would be to join them when they invited me, but I just don’t do that.

I choose to lock myself in the house…staring at the ceiling and letting my mind wander. As the mind wanders, more crazy and negative thought begin to manifest. Is that doing me any good? I doubt it. It is my stubbornness and unwillingness to change for the better perhaps.

So pretty soon, when I tell my friends of the same problem yet again, they just keep quiet. Why? Because in the past, when they gave 1001 suggestions, all of those 1001 suggestions got shot down by me. It gives people the impression that I am ungrateful and that I just choose to remain in the same rut, and yet I keep screaming for help. Then I wallow in my self pity, crying myself to sleep thinking if I died tomorrow, no one would shed a tear.

Naturally, when there is a problem identified, most normal people would want to solve the problem and move on to something bigger and better in life. But not for me I guess. Sometimes I wonder if I have lived in my misery long enough that it has become my comfort zone that I don’t want to get out of it at all. And yet when I see people basking in joy and laughter, I felt left out…I felt like I am missing out on a greater deal of life. Having said that, my efforts seldom commensurate the outcome.

I just feel like a very stubborn mule or donkey or ass.

I know I’d be depressed if I were to be single, but I’d be equally if not more depressed if I were to be attached.  Funny thing is, I know myself too well and yet I am not making any changes or efforts at all. I continue to waste my life…I weep so frequently these days because of my self inflicted insomnia. The daunting hours of sleepless night and the blankness that will shroud my mind come morning.

I know I want to be a better person, but I don’t know how to. I don’t enjoy telling myself that I’d soon die young due to depression related diseases. My friends tell me that I have so much potentials and capabilities that it saddened them I am constantly talking or thinking about suicide.

But to me, I just wanted an easy and fast way out. If I never wake up tomorrow, then I won’t have to worry about this miserable life that I am leading. Pity my parents for the years of nurturing and education and what-nots…but I think I have reached a stage where I am reckless with myself so I cannot be held responsible for other people anymore.

I only chose to blog about certain issues and matters simply because my Friendster and blog profile has been a face and identity. Some people just don’t need so much information about my life…

And yet, blogging has been my escape channel for quite a while now…I don’t support the idea of keeping a journal where I jot down my daily thoughts because I am a perfectionist. A freak. An obsessive compulsive disorder. My handwriting must be organized and uniformed and there must be no errors at all. So it was too much of a hassle for me to fulfill the inner psycho in me, hence blogging just solved one of my woes.

I can choose to type in Word document and then transfer to the blog site or type in the site itself. Any errors, be it grammatical or spelling errors can be rectified with a click of the mouse. Voila, a new entry is produced.

Some people choose to keep their thoughts to themselves, which is a valid thing to do. But I have attention deficit disorder…hence the need to blog perhaps?

I guess my single childhood solitude years must have caused me to dread doing things alone or being on my own for that matter.  You wouldn’t believe it but I could be such a wimp that I don’t go to the cinema alone. For years, if I had wanted to a movie, either someone asks me out or I’d never make it to the cinema to catch the flick.

But over the years, I have grown up a little, well somewhat. These days I could bring myself to shop alone or dine alone but not without much effort and thought though.  I crave for human interaction more than anything. Sometimes not even food can be a comfort to me.

So when I was out and about today, I learnt more about human interaction. Human interaction is not merely meeting someone you know and have a cuppa or a meal but it involves other activities and processes too. Before that familiar human interaction process can take place, you need to get yourself out of the house. Being stuck in a poor traffic jam or picked up by trucked drivers or those immigrant workers who would usually hitch a ride at the back of the lorry are all part of human interaction. Just that it might not be the right kind of human interaction.

There’s also the interesting function of our brain to think of the shortest and fastest way possible to the meeting point. But I soon realized that it’s not the traffic or time that I am concerned about when I am speeding though these two factors do play peripheral roles, I am just an impatient person in general. A highly aggressive one as well if I may say so.

My best friend and I met for a drink at Leo’s Café in USJ. It was pouring cows and elephants when I was circling the area for a small box to place my car. Then I found one and got down from the car, scrambling clumsily for one of my umbrellas, thank God it had stopped raining briefly. I skipped like a mad kangaroo battling oncoming traffic and also missing puddles of water and alas, it was inevitable that I stepped into a small puddle of water. My sandals where hydrated needless to say.

Human interaction I consoled myself as I absolutely detest wet shoes or sandals on my feet. I made my way to the café and she was already there, flipping through the menu, possibly for the eleventy two time. I felt grateful that she was still pleasant to me for if it had been me waiting for her, I might sulk or something. This inner child in me, while on certain occasions cheer people up, is not welcomed on other occasions because those occasions don’t need the antics of a child.

A cup of Leo’s Enrich coffee (which is just coffee with milk) and a cup of hot chocolate and a Leo’s signature toasted bread, that was to be our tea time.  My preference for quality company has always been a cozy and warm kind of gathering though I have somehow steered away from being the night animal that I used to be.

We left just in time for dinner back at our respective homes. The topics that we touched on were quite similar to previous outings, I sometimes wonder if she’d ever get bored of my usual rambles and rattling.

I usually have a very busy mind thinking of the things that I would want to include in my blog entries while not being in front of my desktop. Once I sit down and face my desktop, the infamous writer’s block come. Strange isn’t it…

If 2007 was the year when all the wedding bells chime, 2008 is the year when all the babies coo.

Nadia, Katherine and Yet Kin have given birth to very cute and cuddly little bundles of joy. Being a religious procrastinator, I knew if I didn’t make my visits soon enough, I’d probably not be able to catch glimpse of these cute babies while they’re still young. From the way I have been running my daily life schedule, I’d probably only see these kids when they are getting married or something.

So off I went to Yet Kin’s house with Yee Ying and a few more of my colleagues.  Yet Kin’s baby looked so cute, like a dainty princess. She was asleep when we arrived so we could marvel and ogle at her without making her feel uncomfortable I didn’t manage to snap pictures of the baby though.

Soon enough, Yet Kin related her labour tales to us. If you’re a first time or hopeful mother, her story would surely inspire you to procreate sooner if not later. According to her, there was not too much excruciating pain and the delivery process actually went rather smoothly.

We continued to chit chat and exchange stories since some of us have not met for a while now. Some have moved on to a different endeavour while some remained. It was heartwarming that we’re still the same people after all these years, inside and outside work. My motor mouth has not changed much and their tolerance for my motor mouth has not changed much either.  So that was my visit…

Siblings, love or hate, boon or bane, blessing or curse? 

I remember not thoroughly enjoying being the only child to my parents for eleven odd years. I’d come home from school to an empty house and during thunderstorms, my mind will go wild with monster and devil manifestation in my house courtesy of my vivid imagination. My grandmother stayed with us on and off…at one point in time, my grandaunt used to baby-sit me, not without much challenge or fiasco I must add. 

It was not until one fateful day when I was buying lunch with my father that the lady behind the rice stall teased me about my on-the-way sibling. My eyes grew big and I was obviously confused by these adults talking over my head. I forgot how the revelation of the sibling in stork came to me in the end but I vaguely remembered hearing it from the mother horse’s mouth.

That was so long ago…today my sister has grown so rapidly that we cannot find her shoes size in the average shoe shops but usually only Vincci or Nose would have her shoes size. She’d be towering over me pretty soon and I take pride that I have a smaller waist compared to her, which is like 1 inch. As though that makes the whole lot of difference, but let me tell you, it does. Her clothes don’t fit me that well, apart from the style and fashion sense.

She’s blossoming into a young lady soon, gosh, she’d get her driving licence soon and might jolly well be dating another twit from school or something like that. That’s my baby sister whom I used to clean her buttock, feed her chicken bone, twist her ears among other growing up years treatment which my friends all deem as sadistic acts. 

Similarly, my friends’ siblings have all grown up and left adolescence faster than you and I can spell q-u-i-c-k. Ame’s brother who’s the same age as my sis has grown leaps and bounds since the last time I saw him as a kid. Xiao’s brothers whom I used to see in school are now out of school, one is working and the other pursuing his degree. Oddly, the image of them in my mind had always remained as two small boys, but oh my, they have now grown into young men. Raj’s sisters have all graduated from high school and university and are now part of the labour force. One of Sharm’s sisters has graduated from university and will soon be working. I was catching up with Sharm the other day and she casually mentioned about her sister’s convocation photo shoot. That sister was the one who we always talked about, the one with highly fascinating debating skills and how debating created plenty of traveling ventures for her…and now this young lady is coming out to work already. 

Choy’s sister who used to go to the same primary school as my sister is now in university. I can connect to Choy’s sister as much as those days when Choy and I would be laughing in high school about how her sister would go over and mess with my sister in primary school. Padma’s brother, who didn’t fall prey to my prank call meant for Padma eons ago (”hello, boleh saya bercakap dengan Cik Padma?”, “who’s this?”, “er, this is Jennifer”, “hold on please…” snigger, snigger) is now working abroad. 

Ade’s sister, whom we used to mentally torment with our lame jokes and massive laughter back then when we go for Physics tuition class at Ade’s house with Mr Moay has also graduated from high school and now pursuing her degree. I don’t know much about Peng’s siblings, but the other time when I joined Peng at her bridal fitting, her youngest sister was there as well. Oh my, she has shot up so much…with no previous height comparison of course, but I still thought she must have grown up very much over our growing years.

I guess I was so engrossed in my own growing up years that I forgot that others grow with me as well, be it vertically or horizontally. And yet, it always felt like primary school years was just a fortnight ago, me and my red coloured hair band which Xiao and Tim had so much fun that they had to remind me over and over when we met the other day for drinks…or it seemed like yesteryear when I showed up in Assunta on the first day of orientation in my primary school prefect uniform, which is not coincidentally surprising that many of my friends also liked to remind me of the same. The flashbacks of my shortcomings in high school days were so vivid and daunting that I regretted growing up that way. But then again, if I hadn’t learnt my lessons back then, I wouldn’t be who I am today, hopefully for the better

If you know me long enough, you’d know the history of my cinema routines, or generally movies and me. Until today, I have still have not watched Jurassic Park (1993) or ID4 (1996) or The Da Vinci Code (2003).

So I am very much a turkey of a class of my own when it comes to movies. I only enrolled myself in the Lord of the Rings film trilogy [(The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), The Two Towers (2002) and Return of the King (2003)] marathon in 2005 after I graduated from university and basically had nothing much to do.

My movie marathon continues with the Harry Potter movie series (Harry Potter & the Sorcerer’s Stone and continued with Harry Potter & the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire, and Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix) only in 2008. 

When the latest 22^nd James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace was released, I thought I would be a goner as well. I’d probably do much about nothing to go and catch the movie. Surprise surprise, old miss whiner decided to go and watch the movie. 

Quantum of Sausage didn’t leave any mark in me, other than Camille’s scarred back and Bond’s scarred body…on Fly Fm this morning, Phat Fabes, Ben and Nadia were just talking about Camille’s scar. Phat Fabes went on and on about how scars can be a sexy factor while Ben seemed to be cringing in fear. Nadia was somewhat on the fence other than her incessant scream of exhilaration when anyone talks about Daniel Craig.

Some callers just appeared to be plain ignorant, with the likes of if Britney Spears or Daniel Craig had scars, they’d look sexy anyhow anytime, but if it’s just the Average Joe or Jane, then it’d be horrendous. I think these callers need to get a grip of themselves. They need to try looking at their reflection in their pee pee if there’s no mirror available at home before they pass such remarks on national radio. 

A wishy washy story line, no fancy cars (does an antique Volkswagen count?), one Latino looking Bond Girl (who is really an unknown Ukrainian model-turned-actress Olga Kurylenko), confusing plot (as I didn’t watch Casino Royale earlier on), not many but just one and the one and only bang bang scene which the censorship board did a good job in snipping and cutting and chopping), one Tar-Baby, one Sony Ericsson C902 special edition which Bond used…that’s about it. Perhaps the lack of luxury items and gadgets was to reflect on the economy crisis and recession we’re currently facing? Then it’ll pass as a politically correct and sensitive movie for this time I suppose. But despite the downturn we still spend our hard earned wage to contribute to their blockbuster success, now don’t we movie-goers deserve more? 

So much for the hype and fanfare of yet another Bond flick, but I didn’t find it that engaging that I will cling to the edge of my seat and go ooh and ahh…

There have been a number of reviews that mentioned that Quantum of Sausage Quantum relies much more heavily on reprising the look and feel of the Jason Bourne series. Yours truly however watched none of the Jason Bourne series, so I shall reserve my comments on that. 

But I found the song by Scouting for Girls, I Wish I Was James Bond to be a cute song. Another Way To Die by Jack White and Alicia Keys was equally captivating. It is strange that sometimes the Original Soundtrack will perform better than the movie itself. I have not checked out the other songs on the Quantum of Sausage OST…

I don’t have much say about Quantum of Sausage, and I still find it hard to find Daniel Craig hot as Bond…

I survived yesterday without being assaulted by any work. But I was assaulted by a forgetful bee who was humming away so loudly with no willing audience in sight. The forgetful bee went all out; out of tune, out of harmony, out of rhythm, but not out of sight.

Sigh, why can’t people just get a hold of themselves while in public areas? If you know you cannot sing to save your live or anyone’s life for that matter of fact, then restrict yourself from contributing to more noise pollution. We already have enough polluters and pollutants that we don’t need another one. I share a blanket ruling across all men and women; if you are ugly, don’t try to draw more attention to you with adverse results and undesired outcomes.

Ever since, I have had an annoyed bowel until today. How do I know my bowel is annoyed? Because it’s on the LS (lao sai) mode. It’s almost like if you’re annoyed, you’d be having a bout of verbal diarrhea. So I guess it’s the same with my bowel…it’s just that it’s a diarrhea of a different kind. Yes I know it’s inappropriate to term my irritated bowel as “annoyed”, but I just know that my bowel is annoyed and not irritated for now.

It poured from yesterday night till the wee hours of this morning, providing a layer of cold air to mask the heat that had somewhat shrouded the city for the entire of yesterday. I rather God bring out his watering can at night than day because if it were to pour cows and elephants in the morning, then mum would have a hard time going to work. My sister who is still battling SPM might also be physically affected by the coldness from the rain if it were to shower the whole day. Rain rain go away, come another day.

On a larger perspective, those who are up and about working in downtown KL will also have to brave through the mad traffic jam caused by mega droplets of water from the sky. Malaysian motorists are known to switch on their hazard light despite being in a moving vehicle and slow down to watch motor accidents regardless involving or obstructing them or not, regardless on which side of the road the accident occurred. Such is the thirst of drama of our road users, causing a backlog for a couple of kilometers on the road or highway. Priscilla Patrick of Mix FM’s traffic update would normally tell off this kind of motorists for slowing down to watch, in the process, cause backlogged traffic.

This morning I woke up with a truly empty mind. So empty it was devoid of any plans at all for the day! That caused my heart to race and long before I know it, my heart started to palpitate senselessly and I lay there feeling the heavy pounding of my heart against my chest. Each time I get such palpitation, I always felt like I was on the verge of suffering from a cardiac arrest. It feels very much like an anxiety or panic attack to me. There was no one around…so how? Help me to help you, I told myself. Painstakingly, I gathered myself, wash up and got ready for the day regardless what was waiting for me out there. It’s really getting tougher to stay alive each day, I thought.

Here comes the part where you are supposed and should be responsible for yourself with or without your family and friends. Reality is, no one can be with you 24-7. In your deepest and darkest hours, only you can get hold of your mind and thoughts. If you want to commit a mind suicide and shut down your will to live, even if the whole world was there with you, you’d still go and leave them behind.

What I did this morning was not easy to do. Taking the bull by its horn was akin to a fierce fight with the raging bull.

As I listened to Amigos Para Siempre by Sarah Brightman & José Carreras, I could not help but feel an overwhelming rush of melancholy all over me. There seemed to be so much yet so little going on in my life right now. My emotional and physical seemed to be out of place. Perhaps the deafening silence is beginning to take its toll on me, finally.

For a starter, I was not able to join my girl friends for Pinky’s hen night Though it was not exactly a painstaking effort to plan the hen night to be at Palate Pallete smacked in the heart of town, but I could not help but felt a little slighted to find out that in the end, they didn’t end up there but had decided to meet at a more familiar spot instead. Well, I guess I should not overanalyze. So long as everyone enjoyed themselves, the location didn’t matter that much anymore I suppose. I could not be there myself, I should reserve my comments on the incidents that took turns that night that led to the change in venue.

We have been friends for approximately 15 years since high school. Back then, she was then one who used to lend me her spectacles as I slowly grow blur and blind to my surroundings. We were not particularly close but she had always been a sister who has always been there for me. Ironically, it was through the acquaintance I formed with one of her church friends that drew Pinky and me closer. I can discard that acquaintance now, but not Pinky. Our adolescent years continued in sixth form where we continue to ride the ups and downs of our individual life roller coasters. 

We saw each other through, and yet staying on the opposite end of the highway, we hardly meet in fact. This is the part where we are all guilty as charged - taking each other for granted. Most of the time, when I meet up with the other girl friends, Pinky would almost always be missing in action due to transport problems. But things eventually took a better turn when Pinky started to go behind the wheels of her family heirloom, the faithful Red Datsun. 

When the other girls adorned themselves like a walking fashion billboard or Christmas tree, Pinky proved otherwise. She was truly the epitome of thrift and simple, and yet she was the one who got the last laugh and laughs best. She could get away with a denim skirt and simple top, voila, you get the pretty Lady in Pink. Bordering on modesty, I would not say Pinky a God fearing person…but she is certainly closer to God than she thinks she is, if I may so. I have been to her house and her family members are the nice kind of neighbour that I’d love to have. 

I am glad everything thus far turned out very well for her. Bless her for all her prayers and thoughts. I am going to miss her a lot when she’s gone to the other side of the world. After the wedding next week, Pinky will pack up to join her lawfully wedded husband in East Malaysia. It’s all happening too soon that I am not sure if I’d be prepared to lose her just yet…and yet, what could I possibly offer her to stay as her future is not mine to meddle with? I guess if you really love someone, you ought to let them go seek their happiness.

There’s the friendship, the wedding, the departure…and the usual wedding jitters that I get almost without fail. Is one a lonely number? In the past, I’ve written a decent amount about feeling alone and isolated. And I’m fully aware that some of it is my choice. Because here’s the thing. If I decide to leave the house for a few blessed hours like I did on last Saturday (and I do every Saturday if I could help it), where do I go? There are no parties, no great shopping, or artsy movies. And worst of all, there are no friends or family.

There were days when I sit at a coffee shop or food court or fast food restaurant, ALONE, and write in my mind. How do you ever survive being single and lonely, or be in a long distance relationship where your other half is barely there when you need to be whole? I sometimes find myself laying in bed at night alone and feeling lonely. I’m frustrated and lonely and tired and tired of being frustrated and lonely and tired. Plus did I mention I’m lonely?

Sometimes I’ll be going about my busy life and stop and think, I’m getting older, so when is this “right person” going to enter the picture?”  How many more New Years do I have to celebrate and how many more years am I going to live with my parents, making new plans, making major life decisions and having to do it alone?   I feel like that future husband of mine has missed out on so much of my life that I’ve experienced, that he’s going to have a lot of catching up to do when he meets me…learning who I am, what I’ve been through, etc.  I just wish there was someone special cheering me on in life, contradicting myself, most of the time, the someone special need not necessarily be a male but a female.  I tell (or deceive?) myself that I’d be a much better person if I was married, because my husband would help me grow and keep me in line! The reality is, I’d probably drive my husband up the wall with my antics and flamboyance. Do you have any advice on how to endure this time in my life or maybe even enjoy it without feeling like I’m missing out on so much and letting the loneliness overwhelm me? 

Being single in this day and age takes a lot of fortitude.  Our society is so family-oriented and sometimes it seemed like they only cater to families.  It is very tough being single, & especially when you long to be married. But being married would be another chapter and paradigm all together…

Alas I realized that it’s my own life that I need to be running, and not wait and let someone else run my life for me. I am the de facto owner of my life…I just need to be stronger and get a tighter grip of myself, and perhaps get a new hobby

Weekends…not sure to dread it or be glad that it’s time off from work so then my friends will be free to entertain my whims and fancies pent up since the last five days of the week when they were so busy while I was growing and plucking weed from my head at the same time. 

The delicate balance between too much work and too little work, where is the equilibrium? I remember I used to work so hard, not necessarily smart, over the five (productive) or six days (over productive) of the week. I worked so freaking hard that possibly it left me with quite little time to let my mind wander. Did I enjoy it? Well, back then, ask anyone, they’d tell you that I always look overworked and overstressed. 

I frown more than I smile, I sigh more than I breathe…I leave for work when the sun rise and almost always leave for home after sun rise. When things at work became easier and smoother, I could leave work around 6.00pm when the sun is about to set. I remember being photophobic for a while as I drive out of the basement car park…so not used to driving home in broad daylight. When my mother saw me showing up at our porch around 6.30pm, she was concerned that I might have been fired, that’s why I am home early at last. 

On hindsight, I miss those days. The exhilaration and anticipation that SAP will spring new problems and surprises each day made going to work so much more fun and yet resentful. Some days were just the Eureka days when you were finally enlightened on the way we work. Some days were just the Daniel Powter Bad Day song themed, when everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong and whatever that was always working fine also decided to jump onto the wrong bandwagon.

I always thought that we were the ultimate dream team…we had very nice managers and bosses, the kind who we sometimes manage and boss them ourselves I had one manager who would always sneak up behind my seat with a plastic ruler in his hand and his first remark would always be, “Wah, so free ahh? No work to do is it?”. There was once he was busy picking on me and I retorted. Just as I retorted, he quipped while thunder struck outside the window. My first words were, “Disambar petir!”. Everyone laughed and from then on, whenever I do something silly that will surely get me into trouble, my colleagues would always quip the “Disambar petir” to remind me to repent. 

My other manager was a very prim and proper 70’s child. I was out to sit next to him because my other manager thought that since I am such a dunce most of the time, I should be able to weather the cold of having to sit next to the boss. As usual, I whined and grumbled all the way while moving my belongings to face my fate. But it turned out well. We had our quality times and the rest were usually bewitched when I seemed to know more about him than the rest. I have learnt much just from observing him and sometimes I decided to emulate his style of approach. There was one instance that remained close to my heart. Our annual dinner and dance was around the corner. The theme of that year was Rock. Curious, I asked who or how he was going to dress to the event. He said he will come as a band member of this famous rock band in 70’s. He hummed a song to hint the name of the band to me. Five minutes later, I was as blur as 5 minutes ago…then he sang a few lines of that song he hummed. I was even more confused. Finally he gave up and told me the name of the band and honestly today, don’t ask me why but the name still failed to stick in my head

I was also very fortunate to have a strong team to back me when I falter. I am gungho most of the time, like a bat in the cave, but sometimes, I am also not the sharpest knife in the drawer. My team members are mostly in my age group…so there were no issues talking about high school days or what we used to have back in the olden days like cartoons, gadgets, the “in” things back then…practically anything that surrounded us during our growing up years. 

So that’s how I was labeled “Drama Queen” and also elected as the bridal shower organizing chairwoman since 2007 was the year almost all of my single female colleagues decided to ring their wedding bells. It was fun and perhaps that’s why today I have this inclination that I might flourish in the wedding planner business.

I am not sure if I missed being a workaholic, but I certainly missed being my old self, always so driven and full of energy to get things done regardless. Well, sometimes it could be my way or the highway which drove throngs of people up the wall. But hey, it’s all in the name of getting work done.

Sigh, sometimes it’s just so hard to be me and please me at the same time…