Up For Adoption

Anyone wants 3 lovely, bouncy, big, fat orange-red-white goldfish (to put in ur fish tank, and not on ur frying pan)?

I am putting my three dearies up for adoption, but only kind-hearted, truly-committed and responsible beings need apply.

My fourth fishy passed away yesterday. I think, of stomach cancer (or something like that). It was shedding scales (like patients shedding hair); and its tummy was bulging with black specks and some red patches (like patients with their abnormal pigmentation and hard-to-heal wounds). It was a sorry sight. And I think I have enough of heart ache for a while. When I move over to join the holland-bt timah constituency later in june, I'd probable not bring any of these swimming lives along. Hopefully, by then, I'd have found a lovely reliable guardian for them.

Interested applicants, please state your credentials to convince the fishes why they should go to you. Let it be no walkover please. The fishes need a strong mandate.

Wanted Autumn... Got Dots.

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly" - Richard Bach.

Thanks to those who've left a note. Appreciate it. There's great sense in all that was said, but sometimes in those periods of deep gloom, one can see no photon of light. Next time another cycle hits, I will look back at ur worldly words.

I decided to let my blog undergo a visual makeover. It has stayed the same for too long. Was at blogskins.com surfing through their designs - very nice! but being the computer nutty that I am, didn't managed to successfully upload my chosen design (some autumn gal layout) here... I will try again soon. Meantime, will have to make do with this dotty one..

Till the next entry, ciaos. =)

Past. Present. Future.

When the morning started out like that, I should have known it'd be a foretelling of the rest of the day to come.

Not too long after the bell let out its first toll for the day, a colleague popped by and, i don't know how and why, but the topic of dicussion drifted... work plans... successor... free-spirited-ness... stability... reasons for staying on red dot... This colleague has always been rational, sharp and direct. Today, he verbalized issues that I tucked inside of me. He compelled me, in a non-intruding manner, to confront my situation, and to admit that something is not quite aligned nor beneficial in the long run. And he is not apologetic about the entire discussion. I guess this sets him apart from the rest of the equally, if not more, concerned good pals that I have. While the rest respect my stubborness to indulge in family and work, and gave me the space to shy into, he minced no words pre-empting what might happen if papa is no longer around. He is an acute observer and reader indeed.

For a long while after the chat, I felt disturbed (and I actually still am). It is a smorgasbord of emotions - exposed, pain, not-in-control, defeated, and lost. For a while, I really don't know why I am here, and why I am doing what I am doing. It is really not his fault. The chat was spontaneous, and we definitely didn't plan to go into anything heavy so early in the day. It is me. I have been living behind a shield ever since. But that is only because I cannot bear to force myself to think of what I'd be, where I'd go, what I'd do without the false security of work and the true but non-eternal existence of loved kins. Life is ironically just a journey towards death.

Some years ago when I was still fresh-faced in university, I put in my room one poster that I really liked - 'Even if the world is coming to an end tomorrow, I will still plant my apple tree'. Then, I felt inspired, loved, confident and at peace. Now, I think, if tomorrow, the world is indeed coming to an end, I'd clean up the house one final time, sit at the sofa, and wait for the bell to toll its last.

And being the poor story-teller I am, I had to bore all of you with my rumblings before I remembered I had to tell you about the rest of the day to come. I said it was a foretelling - The father of a gd pal at work had a stroke in the brain early this afternoon. Like mama's. But he is lucky, there is no bleeding, so no immediate danger. Unlike mama's. The next couple of days will be crucial, chances of a second one coming are high. Hang in there uncle, unless you are damn sure you no longer want to plant apple trees.

The Big E Walkabout

As I was poking at my pieces of sweet-and-chilli-sauce-soaked yong tau hu, a big purple tour bus pulled up alongside the kerb, a few foot lengths away from my beloved kopitiam. Out tumbled some middle-aged uncles & aunties holding stacks of colourful newsletters, a few strong men with their big mediacorp videocam + bulky cameras, a couple of dainty ladies wielding pens & notebooks, and (drumroll pls) our dear Mr Yeo CT, Ms Amy K, Mr Ang MS, and the 2 new faces Alvin Y and 2nd youngest candidate Zaqy.. What a party.

They trooped around shaking hands and making small talk, regardless of race, language or religion, to build a democratic society, based on justice and equality, so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and progress for our nation!! OOOps, sorry, somehow the words just flowed, perhaps I've been reciting it too often. In any case, when the party reached my table, I shook my share of hands too. But alas, the small talk that some of them made... "Are you living around here?" (yeap, that's why we are in sloppy t-shirts and flip-flops)... "Is everything okay here?" (pa gave the not-so-diplomatic-answer - 'many things can be improved')... "Is this your child?" (yeap, she's my only one)... "Oh, she must be quite pampered eh. Hahahahaha. But who doesn't like being spoiled? Hahahaha" (DUH... there I was, minding my own business with my yong tau hu, dunno why blur blur kena-ed). Oh, those cameramen happily snapped away too, those forever-grateful benefactors of digital cams. So, don't be shocked if you see me staring back at you from the front page of newspapers tomorrow, in my tousled hair, geeky black specs, rumpled sleep clothes and rubbery flip-flops. I look great, oh yes I do.

10min later, they were gone from the kopitiam, off to the market next door to shake fishmongers' hands. And peace re-descended, an ordinarily lazy sunday breakfast resumed.

Mahjula everyone.

Money Shock

Terrible terrible terrible...

Yesterday evening, dear papa told me a cheque bounced. BOUNCED?! How can that be?! This 'family-expense' account's been passed down by mama and it's always been in secure comfortable black. Must be some silly mistake made by some sloppy souls. At that moment, I drew my fangs out and the battle path is clear - I WILL COMPLAIN.

Horror of all horrors... when I went to the atm to get my ammunition figures, that flimsy paperprint showed one single dismal digit... My heart stopped and then dropped. Mama must have done a somersault up there. What the *#$@%^%#* happened to the $$?

Then I remembered... the recent colossal bills incurred for the new flat, for the agent, for the renovations... on top of the monthly budgeted outflow. Standing at that silent lifeless machine, as I quickly did a transfer between accounts, my heart wept tears of shame and guilt. I am not ashamed of having a cheque bounced, or of seeing a lone digit in a printslip. What I am guilty and ashamed about is the fact that mama has always tried her hardest to maintain this account such that no cheques are returned, even during periods when the hospital bills drained a big chunk out of it, she will remember to find ways to top it up. AND WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING??? There's no more mama, no more medicine/surgery/hospitalization bills, no more nothing, and I cannot even managed to keep track of figures and ensure basic sufficiency?! And what good my monthly salary and upcoming pay rise then, when all it fattens is the personal account while the family's languishes in despair..

I am very, very ashamed of my complacency.

I am truly sorry mama. This will not happen again.

Time, Mates, Morbid thoughts

The work days seem to be passing by faster... and I am thankful for that. I guess it means things are flowing along, faster than I can track. Good, move. I am looking forward to my first real pay rise in 3 long yrs. The sweet fruits of labour, ahhh... Long delayed but very much welcomed nonetheless.

Read the recent Sunday Times article on 'Alpha Females' and their criteria on mates? Holy bull, although I am no true alpha female (heck, I may be good at work, confident, eloquent, witty, good-natured and charming *muahahahahaha*, but I am definitely NO head-turner), the 'to-have-list' resonated mine quite a bit! Surely, a worthy partner should be one who is able to engage you, emotionally and intellectually, someone who can be your best supporter and also your best critic. No 'YES' man pls, we really are not looking for puppies. Independent women we may be, but we want you to be able to call the shots too. Take control when we are out of control. Bring us back to Earth when we get too heady-headed. Love our families like you love us. Spar with us when we want a cerebral fight. Be stay-home dads when we want to be mighty career women. Be big-shot bosses when we want to be stay-home tai tais. Muahahahaha.... Wahwahwahwahwah... I can already see my fate - a wrinkled old spinster abandoned in some nursing home.

But then again, will I get to live that long? Long enough to receive the govt-designated CPF payouts of some miserly ~$600/mth? Haiz, maybe some of those occasionally morbid thoughts will come true and I will bade farewell while still a pseudo-alpha-female in hot pink prime.

Weep not for me. Good riddance to a decomposing world.

Buuuuuuurp

My dad thinks I need to go see a doctor soon...

These few days, after EVERY meal, no matter whether I stuffed myself silly or I eat minimally, I will ALWAYS get a feeling of bloatedness and go into a sustained burping marathon, one that lasts for few hrs each time, and sometimes even overnight... And nope, these burps are not those gigantic rotten-egg-smelling eruptions, but small constipated, "smell-less" air pockets that fight their way out from within the windpipe. Every 3 mins, I would release one. And the whole thing screams 'ABNORMAL'.

I am thinking, maybe there is something wrong with my intestine. Maybe some foreign colonies of bacteria have invaded and set root in there, releasing gases as they happily metabolize and procreate... I tried Vitagen, ENO, chinese Liang Teh, fruits, warm water, rubbed medicinal oil, slept, walked, stood, sat... whatever. But the burps wouldn't go away.

Maybe it is a sign of dreadful things to come.

Beware... Major complaints ahead. Proceed at own risk.

If you ever ever ever have to organize a talentime, PLEASE DO NOT ever ever ever choose SP Convention Centre as the venue, unless of course, you want your audio event to flop big-time. The sound system is so bad, I'd have walked right out had my cousin not been a participant at TalentQuest 2006 held there last nite. Maybe, without myself realising, I had morphed from a tolerant kind soul into a hard-biting nit-picking critic, but there were indeed many bones to pick yesterday nite.



Top of the list, of course, the audio-visual set. My god, if Donald Trump had sat in there for half a minute, he'd have fired the entire fleet of audio crew and closed down the whole building. So much cackling interference, such uncontrolled mike volumes, multiple video glitches, the case of the missing mikes, the case of the 'present mikes-but-missing sounds' and yadder yadder yadder...

There were 5 categories yesterday - emcee, solo, duet, group and song composition. A guy & a gal vied for the emcee award. The guy was gracious and eloquent. The gal was... (pardon me big-time but I really couldn't find kinder words)... frivolous, petty, repetitive, aunty-ish and plain irritating. Many times, her comments were "duh-inducing", lacked grace and reflected ignorance. I am quite sure it was not my hormones, but i absolutely felt like giving her one good smack. Just one example of her boo-boos: she called The Dean of NUS Science Faculty, Prof Tan Eng Chye, "MR DEAN, MR DEAN"! Not once, not twice, but so many times over that I think the GOH Dr Amy Khor couldn't stand it and had to correct her onstage, asking her to refer to him as "Prof Tan" from that moment on. Dr Khor herself was not spared and had to tolerate having her surname switched many times throughout the night, sometimes it's "KOH", sometimes it's "KHOR", sometimes it's both in the SAME sentence. *FAINT* Her ancestors must have flipped in their graves.

The lighting was dead. There was only a stationary spot of light shone right smack at the middle of the stage. When singer(s) moved left, the spot stayed; when singer(s) moved right, it still stayed. Was another special guest performer scheduled to emerge from beneath that spot?? The only other time when the light moved was when the crew decided to project it right into the audiences' eyes to wake us. Very effectively blinding. Can be put on par with the audio cackles.

The presentation of tokens of appreciation, trophies and lucky draw prizes was another horror segment to squirm through. The lack of coordination was so apparant, it screamed "MANY MORE REHEARSALS NEEDED". No one seemed to know where to stand, where the tokens/trophies/prizes were, where to go after receiving their stuff that it would have been more painless to have just gotten DHL to do courier service.



Thank Buddha, all was not lost. The one saving grace yesterday night was that some of the contestants were really good! Despite all the hiccups, they managed to sound pitch-perfect, drawing the audience into their soulful renditions. One or two were so good, I wonder what they are doing here and not in Singapore Idol. I bet they'd make it to the finals there too. The other helpline that delivered was guest performer Zhang Dongliang. He was the malaysian boy-next-door singer who charmed the crowds with his soothing vocals. If not for his timely appearance, I'd probably have popped a vein or two by then.

I know, I know, quit whining and let it go. Remember it's a wholly student-run event, and even for expert event planners, there should always be some leeway coz there's always the blameable Dr Murphy right? Only from mistakes does one learn and grow, yes? Furthermore, who am I to criticize so much when all I had done was to sit there in that snug theatrette chair clutching my $10 ticket stub and goodie bag (containing *yippee* partyworld karaoke vouchers)? Yes yes, despite my barrage of complaints, I thank you organizers, for giving my cousin a chance to perform, and for giving me a 3.5hr marathon nite of music and noise.

Lucky the whole event's taped down. The next organizing batch had better learn from this. To TalentQuest 2007, cheers and good luck.

Remember golden rule number one: If you ever ever ever have to organize a talentime, PLEASE DO NOT ever ever ever choose.... AND save not on the rehearsals please.