Monday, May 31, 2004

We did a workshop on The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. And I'm an INTP! Although I think I'm more of a S than a N. Interesting workshop, interesting lecturer, not quite a wasted day, but I'm feeling rather guilty cos' most of my work is not done yet! I shall try not to think too much about that. Now ... where are my chocolates ... heh heh

Hmm ... my hubby tampered with the LCD, now it looked strange. ack.


Gosh ... they do have a sense of humour, unlike us here.

We have two levels of entry.

Level 1. You will have had at least 3-4 years of work experience in your Father’s shipping company, and a degree in something highly specialised, such as Medieval Golf Course Management, or French History (1433-34). You will need to able to gather and analyse information from a wide range of sources, be it newspapers, the wireless or television set. The ability to operate our Canon photocopier, and stop the fax machine eating bits of paper is vital. Applicants with a knowledge of Microsoft Windows 3.0 will be at an advantage.

Level 2. As well as all the above, you will have a thorough knowledge of Baroque music, and be able to make jokes in Latin. Juggling and/or knife throwing skills are always appreciated. You will also need to be able to use your powers of persuasion to get more money out of the government. The value of the ability to discover new threats to the Realm one month before the Public Spending Round cannot be overstated.

The pay for both these posts is not lavish, but there are many fringe benefits, including Health Plan, company car and Nectar Card.

We attract people from a variety of backgrounds, who find their work at MI5 most useful: journalists, KGB agents, CIA agents, Mossad agents, MI6 agents, animal rights activists, trade unionists, and coal miners, to name but those that we are aware of.

Continue at ....
Recruitment at M15

It's kinda hard to believe them at all. *LOL*

Sunday, May 30, 2004

Just woke up feeling damn groggy. Kinda regret all that sleeping. Sacrificing yoga for sleep. Another day wasted.


But I feel like going back to sleep again.


Gloomy thoughts

I woke up this morning feeling a little out of sorts. There was a thought lingering in my mind - must be had a bad dream. A thought concerning the MIL. It makes me feel gloomy in the heart, for I was looking forward to having a new place all to ourselves. Just the two of us. A new home. A refuge. A new place. Everything new. And I want everything my way in my new place. The mistress of the nest. I want to be able to be in control of what I want. What is it about women who wanted everything new? A new beginning? New pots and pans, new kitchenwares, new curtains, new furniture. Do I have to accept the old cloths for the curtains? Or the green sofa?! Oh, we have lots of plates and bowls - here, have them! Or ... I shudder to think. The best of intentions leads to the worst of disasters. Gloomy thoughts. I hope it was just a bad dream.


On a lighter note, how awful it must be to have to dig shit out from someone's ass. Urrgh.

But it was funny the way he puts it. :)

Thursday, May 27, 2004

Am listening to Puccini's O Mio Babbino Caro played by Joshua Bell on the violin with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. It's beautiful, really beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. I can just close my eyes and have the music swimming in my head. There are other beautiful pieces in the CD, in fact all the pieces in the CD 'Romance of the Violin' is beautiful. *puts on repeat*


*blissful smile on face*


Oh and he's quite cute too ... :)

You can read more about him and listen to part of the music O Mio Babbino Caro here.

I think I'll go down to HMV and get more of his CDs later. :)


Wow! More of him here!
There're even so many images of him! *LOL*

I love violin pieces. It sings soulfully and tugs at my heart. There is a yearning for such peace and beauty in the music and there's an overwhelming sense of emotions when I hear such beautiful music. Words fail to describe it. Listen and understand for yourself! :)



I think he plays the violin very well. Wish I could too.

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Everyone seems to be chalking up on sleep debts. I've been sleeping at almost midnight and waking up at 5.30am everyday. It's no wonder I'm feeling sluggish and moody all day plus the fact that it's almost 3pm and I've not had anything since breakfast! Should you even wonder why I'm digging for my chocolates now? While waiting for mom to cook me lunch. Heh .. that's the best thing about living with parents. A hot meal everytime you are hungry. I'm certainly going to miss all these when I move out!

But once out of the sun and into my cool air-con room, I suddenly felt more alive especially after the chocolates. Going to play GB. :P Great game that! Have to catch up with my hubby while he is not around. ;)

He told me he had a strange dream last night. Dreamt that I was FAT. Extraordinary super duper humongous fat! Stretch your arms out to your side - that's the width! With layers and layers of jiggly, wobbly fats!! Can you imagine me fat? *ROFL* Perhaps I've been stuffing myself with too much chocolates lately. heh heh heh ... perhaps he's trying to wiggle out of treating me to a belated dinner for my birthday. *grins*

Oh goody, lunch is ready! ...

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Thoughts on my birthday ...

This was something I wanted to write on my birthday, but time was spent enjoying and the day flew by so fast, that I didn't have time to put them down. The thoughts were in my head waiting to be found, a place in my little loft, so that perhaps I'll read them again and remember how I felt on that day.

Three people I know share the same birthday as I. One is a colleague whom I hardly speak 10 sentences to in a year. Another is a secondary school friend whom we were close once and last saw her only during her wedding. The third is someone special, because she is simply extraordinary, unlike you and me with our full physical facilities and health.

V_, is 4 years younger than me. She has motor neurone disease, or whatever it is called. I'm not sure about all this medical mumbo jumbo thingy. I first met her through another close friend who felt that we should meet since we had the same birthday. Also, during that time, I was feeling rather depressed and wallowing in self-pity. It would be good to jolt me back to reality wouldn't it? I think my friend was just sick of me whining away. LOL.

The first time I saw V_ I was rather taken aback. By her physical appearance. I felt awkward and large and clumsy and I didn't know what to say. Would it be deem insensitive if I were to talk about her condition? Would it be too cruel if I were to talk about myself? Or do we simply talk about the weather? But all the awkwardness melted away when she greeted me, curious to know more about me and what I do, and thanks to my friend who is damn chatty and can break the stubborn-est of ice. Sometimes I still feel awkward when I talk to her, but I've learn to set aside the block and treat her just like any other person. She's eager for chatter and I think one does best by simply being there.

I'm not sure about my own feelings towards her, but I know I admire her strength and will to live. I admire her courage to greet each and everyday no matter how terrible her condition is. I envy her cheerfulness and her simple look at the meaning of life. Whatever deep sadness she might have she must have locked it up and simply live each day as the most important day. Perhaps it is us with all our rushing and stressfulness, dreams to do well in life and struggle to be the top who ought to be pitied. Perhaps it's us who never stop to reflect and breathe the precious fresh air and scent of the flowers who are missing out on the importance of life. Stop ... and listen to the wind in the willows, to the breeze humming across the treetops and to the thoughts in your heart. :)

But I'm happy and contented now, and I must remember to remain contented, and not wish for too many things.


Thoughts on blogging.

Blogging can be rather addictive. See, just within a short span of time, I suddenly started writing so much. Perhaps it is inspiration from reading other people's blogs. Perhaps it's just me - my interests work like puffs of smoke. For a while, I'll be doing nothing else but reading books, and another while, I might be captivated by writing and reading blogs, or perhaps I'll be simply playing computer games till late at night.

Anyway, coming back to blogging, I guess it's rather fun. I'm used to writing emails to friends, but sometimes it feels like intruding on them, or like simply flooding their inboxes with my musings. Hammie was certainly right in that this is a better way of getting stuffs off my chest. I'm not sure if I want people to read my blogs. I need to write like I'm talking to YOU - I can't imagine writing to no-one. But who you are, I do not know. :P

I've never written diaries when I was a kid ... I mean, like ... Dear Diary, who the hell is Diary? Duh. Okie, perhaps I'm not so imaginative as to have an imaginary friend to write to. I can't imagine me having any imaginary friends! It's all about me! mE! ME! I do tend to think thoughts to myself, and tell myself stories ... passing moments which disappear as fast as the electrical impulses in my brain travels. I know I used to tell myself lots of stories ... okie, talk to myself quite a bit too. LOL. But never had it written down. Is there a difference? Well, it's slower putting thoughts down in words, and one has to be more meticulous with the spelling (arrgh!) and the grammar (double arrgh!) and punctuation (triple arrgh) etc. One also can hardly have too much of the bloody f******* *&$^@#(* stuffs in words ... and it's definitely easier to think evil curses than writing them down. *Laughs* And okie, let's admit it, the best part is that my thoughts will still be there for me to read when I want to. narcissism and egoism. Hello!


Boys will always be boys, playful, invincible and brave. Today one of my boys found a shoe and decided on a most creative prank - put the shoe up on the pole and let's see the owner trying to bring it down. And how is the shoe going up there? Not a problem at all. So up he jumped, placed the shoe there, down he dropped and gouged a deep huge wound in his knee. Blood spruted out in copious amount, soaking up the cloths his friends applied. So we went to the children's emergency. But he was so calm and kept reassuring us that it didn't hurt at all. I guess there were more people paler than him at that moment. I salute him for his bravery and really wish to throttle him for his silliness. I hope he gets well soon.

Another time last year, another of my boys broke his arm. Now, that was really scary. The arm became all rubbery. Eerrgh. Small kid, deeply tan, trying hard to hold back tears, arm like an eel. All I could do was to talk to him so he wouldn't have to think of the pain too much. He was also a brave boy but the pain was really too much. I can still see that situation in my mind. That one was really awful. I didn't know broken bones made one looked so scary.

Good god ... *trys to wipe image of scene of broken arm off my mind*

* * *

Monday, May 24, 2004

"So some respectable dodo in the Mauritius might have lorded it in his nest, and discussed the arrival of that shipful of pitiless sailors in want of animal food. 'We will peck them to death to-morrow, my dear.'"

From The War of the Worlds, H.G.Wells

Tickled me funny.

I think I might have read this book before. There are so many books I've read and I can't remember if I've read them. Was down at Kino for the 20% storewide discount, and bought books by P.D. James, Ian Rankin, Elizabeth George and of course Agatha Christie. I know I've not read the Rankin and George book, both being at that point in time I was finally smart enough to note down the books I've read, but P.D. James ... arrgh ... it was a while back when I was trying to haunt down all her books to read, and the book I've decided to buy finally - I hope I've not read it yet. Perhaps when I feel richer, I'll slowly buy all her books and read them again. Which is what I'm doing for AC books. :)

* * * * *

We are complacent creatures, we don't like changes especially when we are already comfortable and happy with the current situation, and especially if it involves more work. Are changes always necessary? Do we have to change the way we do something just so that it shows we are IT savvy? Does the change effect any improvement over the current situation? Or are we simply paying lip service so as to pacify the decision-makers that the money was well invested? Are we doing such things because 'other people are also doing it' and we want to be as good as them if not better? What matters if the immediate result is low morale, unhappiness, anger. Be resigned. Oh, but it is the end results that matters, you know. The BIG picture. For the good of all. yeah right. We just couldn't see it past our selfish noses. I'm tired. I don't care anymore.

What happened to being independent? What happened to family responsibilities? What happened to self responsibilities?

You tell me ...

Today my colleague was telling me about the last time she had a serious migrane attack. Had to take a cab down to the hospital all by herself. Threw up half way there. Cab driver got so angry, scolded her and threw her out of the cab onto the middle of the road in the middle of the night.


I would have taken down the number of the cab and lodge a complain. Of course she'd have been to sick to do just that. How cruel can some people be!

Sunday, May 23, 2004

Dementia, Madness, Genius, Love ...

Big round eyes, slightly protruding, with a milky film, staring, unblinking, seeing something far away, or perhaps not seeing anything at all, or perhaps seeing only memories, scene after scene playing behind the blurred lens.

Small beady eyes, bright, clear, intelligent, darting everywhere and but not looking at you, blinking furiously sometimes, unsettling, uncomfortable.

The perfect eyes of pools of darkness set against the smooth white balls. Deep, dark, full of secrets, cool, calculative, a trap to capture your gaze and set your guard down. Beautiful eyes, something which you look at forever and ever, spiraling downwards into them, yet unseeing, yet uncaring.

Eyes with warmth and sincerity, laughter and humour winking in the depth of the pupils, holding you safe and secure, eyes which shone with love, with pride, eyes which tell you the truth, hiding nothing, encompassing everything. My love.

Eyes of all shapes and sizes. Humans with their oval round eyes, single or double eyelids, strong gaze, fugitive glances; elves with their almond shape eyes, single eyelids, staring, intelligent, haunting; dwarfs with their mistrustful eyes, deep beneath their sockets, hiding behind long shaggy brows, firm yet uncertain, undecided; hobbits with their happy eyes, bright, innocent, full of joy and laughter. Eyes are the mirrors of their souls. Have you ever looked into a person's eyes and wonder what the person is like? Can you have an inkling of what goes on in the thoughts of a person when you look into the eyes? Do the eyes show madness, or truth? Are the eyes telling you something when a shadow falls upon them? Eyes can be sparkling clear, and sometimes they can become opaque. Eyes can look dull, and sometimes they glisten with tears. Look into the eyes and wonder. Look into the eyes and perhaps you can read their minds and see their heart or perhaps nothing at all.

You can tell a lot of a person when you look into the eyes. There could be an instinctive trust or a shuddering dislike. Perhaps a unconscious liking, or disgust. Or perhaps pity, sadness, joy ... emotions fleetingly fly past you and you are left with a sense of something towards the person. Subconsciously, you know, yet unable to put into words.


I wish my Grandma is well. She is with us physically, but her mind is lost somewhere, untouchable, unreachable. Before she is a gentle lady, vibrant and caring and hardworking. She'll tell me stories and cheer me up after a day at work. But slowly she deteriorates, and withdraws into herself. Yet not too bad as she is willing to be brought out of her shell. I could always get along with her, and we enjoyed our conversations very much. I missed my Grandma in that way. Now, all is left is her physical being, no spirit, no strength, no person.

Before when she came to stay with us, there were already hints that her mind is failing. Sometimes she'll see or hear things only visible to herself. Perhaps many years of memories play in her mind and she sees and hears them and wishes she were back then. She'll talk to the ghosts in her past, holding a perfectly ordinary conversation on a perfectly ordinary day with someone you can only perhaps see with her eyes. Once, she kept asking me why the little boy is crying, she was rather distressed that he couldn't stop. Only there were Grandma and I alone in my room, on a rather dark and quiet night. Spooked me out, rather. Other times she'll become all quiet and introspective, and when I approached her, she'll whisper at me to shush, she wanted to hear the singing. It still wasn't too bad, since she could recognise where she is and who she is. Yet now her mind is totally locked somewhere and she does not even know who we are. She will just be quietly sitting by a corner, staring but not seeing, hearing nothing, doing nothing. Is she still dreaming of her past or has her mind become completely blank? Is there a soul trapped in the frail body wishing to be released or is there no such thing as a soul at all? Does she still understand where she is and who she is? Does she still know that we all still love her and that she is being well taken care of? Can her life be anymore meaningful without the mind to command the will?

My mom sacrifices her freedom to take care of my grandma. She doesn't give up nor does she get unhappy. Grandma has always been nicest to us, she says. My mom, I think, is the greatest person in the whole world. Her brothers who took the money, only boys get them, see, and some never even come to visit Grandma. Her sisters visit and only make my mom more busy. Sometimes I can't help feeling angry with how unfair it all is. When my mom fired the maid, the hypocrite among them came calling to ask my mom how she is coping, but only wanting to get the maid's contacts. They don't care, do they? I only wish that my Grandma knows in her heart that she is being taken care of by my mom. I only wish that my Grandma is mentally all right so she can be with us not just physically but here, in the sense. The last time we could still celebrate her birthday with her with a simple cake and feel the joy to see her smile. Today, there is nothing. Emptiness. Eyes opaque, staring, unblinking, unseeing.



Time does indeed pass by very fast. Read Hammie's post on his thoughts. We are all the play-things of Time. Time has no compassion, nor any mercy. It moves relentlessly through the centuries, seeing nothing, leaving only histories to be written by the strong and powerful. How can we beat Time at his own game?

There's only 24 hours or 1440 minutes or 86400 seconds in a day. Even as I write this, the seconds ticked away, never to be retrieved. There are so much things to do in a day. 24 hours is not enough! But do I wish to have more Time? Do I want to be immortal? I don't know really. Having only this limited amount of Time makes me feel that life has a meaning, a purpose. To do everything I want to do ever before Time runs out for me. Do not waste too much time thinking of what the past might be, or what could have been done better. Do not dwell too much on regrets and think what could have happened if I had walked on another path at the junction of roads. Perhaps there's a parrallel world where my other selves in another Time does something differently. I do not know, all I know is I only have this one lifetime to make my Time here meaningful to myself. If I have all the Time in the world, I'll probably waste it all. :P

Growing old - working with young people reminds me terribly of my own time at their age. Sometimes I wish that I had done this and that instead of others. I wish I could be still as young and carefree without any responsibilites. But being at the age I am now also open a lot more doors for me. It is only a matter of how I make use of what I have. Perhaps that's why I'm trying to do so many things right now. :)

It is very important to priortise one's time properly. There is the choice of career, family and personal interests. Which one is the most important to you? There isn't enough time to enjoy everything. If one wants every finger in the pie, one will only end up with a sense of urgency to complete all the goals, and perhaps kill all joy in between. Perhaps it's better to give equal footage for all, but with slight emphasis on the things you treasure more. Perhaps do everything you have to do and make it enjoyable for yourself. Work can be overwhelming at times, so treat yourself if you feel too stressed. Yoga does work. I feel less stressed and am able to focus more on the work at hand. :)

Thus saying all these, it's rather ironic that I spent so much time on the computer, blogging and reading and playing computer games. heh heh. To work now ... a beautiful day awaits!

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

I'm falling sick ...

You know when you are falling sick. Somehow there are more sneezes, just one more than the normal count, or maybe two or three more and non-stop too. You feel something in your throat, a little dry, a little sore. Air swish up the throat drying it further. Nose becomes slightly more blocked as do the ears. Tissue after tissue you use, and you see the pieces slowly pile up like snow on your table. There's a niggling sense of heaviness at the back of your head, a dull ache behind your eyes. There is a tightness at the shoulder blades and you wish someone could stab you there to ease the pain. heh. Your eyes are bright, you feel a bit hyper but your muscles are drugged. You know you shouldn't have taken the iced mocha with chocolate gelato this afternoon, but your taste buds had become sensitive and wanted something sweet. Though the cookies and creme your friend had was definitely much nicer. (Why is it that someone's elses food always taste nicer?) You know you shouldn't have taken so much chocolates during the weekend, but really, it was a nice treat for yourself especially when work is rather depressing. The weather was hot, then cold, then hot again. You had a hot bath and went into the air-con room and out into the humid world again. The bed beckons but you don't wish to sleep yet. Blame it on the mocha.

... why am I falling sick? :)

Monday, May 10, 2004

Of Cats and Dogs

I've always thought I am a dog person. You know, dogs are such cute lovable creatures. They look at you with their melting eyes, wag their tails non-stop and grin their silliest goofy grin with their slurpy tongue hanging out and dripping saliva all over you. Dogs don't ask for much, just waiting for you to hug and play with them. Besides, my relatives all had dogs once upon a time. My earliest memory I had was the mongrol my grandparents had when I was little. A little black dog (actually she looked quite big at that time)called pui-pui (as in fat-fat). Erm, my memory is mainly assisted by the photos I had and the stories told by my parents. Where we would run around chasing pui-pui or be chased by her. Where my older brother was chased by her once and he got so frightened he climbed (or tried to climb) up a tree. Where she would always get excited when we come and visit and tried to sniff us for drugs .. erm, I mean treats. And that action always annoyed my mom. My mom got a long history with dogs, but that's another story. When pui-pui grew old and passed away, we were all very sad.

Then there were other dogs. Dogs my uncles had - those Pomenarian types, silly creatures actually. I waited my turn to carry one and when one was put in my arms, I promptly dropped the dog. Good thing it wasn't a baby huh. ;) Then there were the occasional dogs I met at friends' places - usually dignified gentlemanly golden retrivers or sheepdogs. I'm not sure about the breeds. And my very close friend got a small greyhound. Very intelligent, smart aleck kinda dog. So intelligent he doesn't want to play with me. humf.

*** ***

So as I was saying, I always thought I'm a dog person. Until I met the cat.

Cats - aloof, cool, dignified, intelligent.

But this cat is very special. I mean it is rather ordinary actually. The Singapore Cat. With sharp beautiful feline features, long tail, molted black and reddish fur. Just like any other strays. Only this cat is special.

We call her The CAT.

She was brought up by my mother-in-law. The only one left amongst her siblings. When the mother cat abandoned the litter, she was only a few days old. Wouldn't have survived if not for my mother-in-law. But there's something about this cat which no other cats posessed. She grew up so affectionate and so lovable, so cute and ... oh, I hardly know how to describe!

You can pick her up, turn her upside down and play with her. Cuddle her close to you and squeeze her gently. She simply looks at you and purr and is happy just to be with you. Grab her leg with your toes and she'll immediately flop onto the floor waiting to be stroked. Pull her tail and she'll turn and look at you in puzzlement then flop onto the floor hoping that you'll rub her instead. She'll flop down on her right side so that you can rub her on her left side and when that is done, she'll roll over to her left side(Yes! she rolls over from left to right and back!) and you'd better rub her on her right side too! Sometimes when you're just sitting there, she'll come and flop her little head onto your foot and purr contentedly. She'll follow you anywhere you go, upstairs and downstairs and especially into the kitchen. She'll be so excited to go where you go that she'll walk right bang into your legs and you end up hopping on one foot in order to avoid stepping on her. Not that she minds at all ...

When you're not around, she'll go out and gallivant. But she knows when you are back, so when you open the gate, suddenly from out of the dusk, she'll trot calmly back in and gives you the look which says, "humf, my human, where have you been?" She's so trusting, sometimes we are really worried about her. When she's not back, sometimes it helps by standing in the middle of the street and meow at the top of your voice. :P Okie, maybe not in the middle of the street, but when she's nearby and hears our voice she'll come running home, waiting to be hugged.

She has a very forgiving nature. Once my husband tricked her into giving her a bath. As usual she loves to be picked up and hugged. Only that time, she was brought to the sink to get a shock of her life. But the most amazing thing was that she didn't even struggle or scatch my husband. She got very wet then was rubbed dry. And when he released her, all she did was looked at him with a doubtful and woebegone expression and blinked. After that she avoided him for a couple of days but readily forgave him and forgot the whole incident.

Wonderful cat huh?

After knowing this cat which is intelligent, affectionate, cuddly, lovable and all ... I no longer find dogs that interesting.

So are you a cat or dog person? :)

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Today I bumped into my ex-Japanese Elementary 1 class teacher, Miss Maeda. She recognised me of course ....


*yup I know that* Konichiwa :) .. I replied.

something something something kyoo ....


something something something else ...


So I blinked at her, and she had to converse with me in her halting English.

Ah well .... haha ... at least I did understand 3 Japanese words all together! Yikes! Really time to revise and continue with more Japanese lessons!

I'm sure I felt ashamed .... for 5 seconds at most :)