quack quack

once upon a time, there was a duck.....


i think her name is matilda......


she is versatile on land.....

and water.......

she brought me to sights i've never seen.....

and some that i have.....

matilda the duck.


ok, i'm uninspired today.


if you don't see me for the next few days, i've gone a-quack quacking


...but if you do, it means i've killed the duck.

the price of beauty

thursday morning started out to be wet and cold day, just perfect for lazing a little longer in bed. until the shrieking of the phone pulled me out of bed, that is.

what followed was me being a part of the scene from 'the fast and the furious', though i haven't seen that movie :-p i raced past other cars, flashing my high beam at others who are pulling their feet, not daring to horn incase some bullies decided to end my haste by crashing into me. i turned corners with a screeching sound (ok, so i'm exaggerating :-p), overtook several cars and flattened the accelerator.

all because my mother, on her way to the airport, realised she had forgotten to bring her make-up bag.

heehee.

fashion police

warning: this post is explicit and is recommended for audience with a rating of 18SX, or mentality reaching that level anyway.

what i will really like to know is...who was the crazy idiot who invented g-string? yes, g-string. the word that will get men's ears (among other things) all cocked up when mentioned in passing. that fella, and i'm assuming that only a man can be so narcistic about the female bottom, should be hunted down and....... made to wear his own creation to all eternity, that being the worst imaginable punishment i can come up with.

who was the fool who said that vpl (visible panty line) is unattractive probably has it bad for womanfolks and schemed up a grandeur plot of revenge to take vengeance for ...probably being jilted or something. hello? women wear panties...panties have lines.....what's so unattractive about a fact like that? that's almost like saying your hairline is ugly or the outline of your shirt is unattractive. perhaps the creator of the vpl theory wants to imagine women without their underwear....that being fine if it is restricted solely to his imagination, and not change the entire fashion industry.

what is so attractive about having something shoved up your bum, i ask you? remember when wedgies were what school bullies did to the nerdy kids? i can't believe that women are going around, submitting themselves willingly to a wedgie everytime they wear pants. i've never seen anybody whispered conspiratorially, "ohhhhhhhhhh, i can see that man's vpl!". doesn't men have vpl?! puhleaseeeee.

some women won't think twice about putting on the g-string. oh yes, it's sexy and all, especially when the back peeks out from the pants. after all, who doesn't want to be sexy? and who wants to be sneered upon with comments like..."i can see her vpl". the thing about g-string is....you get used to it after a while, something which i can not understand. how do you get used to something stuck between your cheeks? if you can get used to that, you may as well put your cash there and save having to carry your wallet around. robbers will definitely not know where to look.

g-string is a fashion statement. how? i don't know, since people can't see it but can see when you are not wearing it. but wait a minute, tell those fashionable women that g-string is terribly unfashionable and vpl is now THE in thing, vpl is what gets men all worked up about. i'll bet you a dollar that in a flash, no one will want to wear that evil equipment of torture anymore. so, please ladies, don't tell me that it's comfortable. i have a bum with two cheeks, just like you.

people in the fashion industry, please don't mess with women's mind.

apple of the eye

wasn't going to blog today because i am too tired......but hey! i'm a professional blogger. in the face of adversity, we persevere! *grins*

after dinner last night, as the family was sitting around the table talking, a little snippet of the conversation brought me back to my distant past.

my family is a traditional one, where the sons are favored over the daughters, simply because of their sex. behaviour, credit, demerit...all do not matter for it simply boils down to the fact that the male child will carry on the name of the family, as in all chinese families. it's not a new story, all chinese families, heck even non-chinese families, will have favouritism of one sort or another.

it's not a big deal, especially when you are on the receiving end. however, if you are on the other side, where no matter what you say or do, you know deep in your heart you'll never gain the favour of your parents, it hurts a great deal and is an obvious thorn in your side. when you are a child, the love of your parents is perhaps the be all and end all. some parents will make an effort to mask that fact, bless their hearts and not let the favouritism seem too obvious. others do it so blatantly that it seems cruel.

a secondary school friend of mine recently spoke to me about how troubled she was, perhaps still is, over the favouritism that runs in her family. she's in her 30s with a family of her own....and yet this is something that continues to disturb her, something that she has not been able to let go all these years....so much so that she had to see a psychiatrist to learn to let go.

i can't say i have it that bad. to me, it has always been a fact...a fact that you know and accept. perhaps when i was younger..and less rationale, i've shed a few tears, spent a few nights in frustration...i remember vividly the times when it was proven time and time again that my brother was the apple of their eyes. i resented the fact that he did not have to lift a single finger, that he had all the freedom in the world, that he had the best things....it hurt when others pointed out the fact blatantly in my face, with what lurking intention i do not wish to know.

however, i don't know when, i don't know how.....over the years, i never thought as much about it. it was a fact that paled with time. when cruel do-gooders think that by reminding me of it is serving me a favour, i shrug in response. my skin has thickened with time. i knew that no matter how much i am loved, i love them with all my heart....for they are my parents and forever will be. so, the question of who they love more hardly matters.

fast forward into the future, i now see with my own eyes that my mother loves me as much. loving is not in the talk, it's in the actions. the fact that i am a daughter does not seem to matter. she worries when she thinks i am suffering. she asks for my opinion and takes them into account. her actions speak louder than her words. i am after all her child. her flesh and blood. i am blessed to have someone who loves me so truly. unfortunately, in this world, we can't say the same for the many people that surrounds us.

a lesson that i have learnt from all this years perhaps? that it matters not how much you are loved but rather how much you love. if you love in sincerity, you will be loved.

my father's child

HD and my in-laws are there...i am here....

life goes on....everybody expects things to return back to normal. deadlines are issued, fresh workload given, schedules and demands made...but my mood hasn't returned to its original state. i'm trying to cope with the new state of affairs happening across the straits and yet maintain a normal semblance for others here. it's a funny feeling...things look normal..but you know they are not ....or should not be.

i am my father's daughter.

not that i am his favourite child or that i am not my mother's.

rather, i bear a few traits that closely resemble his as a result of genetic hereditary. i get that a lot, people commenting that i look more like my father rather than my mother. personally, i would have prefered to look more like my mother, for she is rather beautiful and attractive. again, i should qualify that by saying that my dad is not unattractive....but he belongs to the male species....and to say that i look more like him is perhaps an indirect way of hinting that i am more masculine in my appearance? i don't know.

to some, saying that i resemble my father is a compliment to me. perhaps because of the type of man that he is. to others, it's merely an observation of the truth. i have his eyes, single eyelids as they come. i have his toes, complete with the middle toe leaning slightly to the right. i have his mouth, his hands, his white hair and the heavy thighs that run in the female side of his family. not very attractive things that he has passed to me. still, i'm proud to be my father's child.

tag slain!

staccato

it has been a very moist and wet morning.

my pointer finger hurts when i bend it. rheumatism? at my age? no wayyyy.

my two weeks of playing house is coming to an end. :-(

my guinea pigs will be moving across the straits to better susbsistence conditions....

i'm going to miss exercising my culinary muscles...

a summary of my two weeks....

pros...

1. i finally get to put my cooking books to the test...and i've got good guinea pigs who seems to have survived my imaginative experiments.

2. i finally understand the sacrifice mothers had to go through, though my own experience in no way matches theirs.

3. i lost 1.5kg.

cons....

1. i have bruises and cuts which i don't quite know how or why...though i spied a reddish tint on the ginger yesterday....all the better for taste :-p

2. my hands are rougher from all that interaction with fishes, garlic, detergent..etc...then again, my hands are never smooth to began with :-p

3. my outstanding work is piled up high on the table, accumulating dust....which has actually been there before all this anyway. :-p

the sun is coming up.

good news......the pain in my finger is gone.

bad news....it appears to be rheumatism after all. damn!

contentment

.......life is funny. just when you think you can't handle it anymore...that you have had enough...fate adds another blow. it makes what you were previously doing looks like easy task by comparison. you can scream...you can shout....but frustration will get you nowhere. if you accept the challenges humbly, take down one wall at a time, you will get through the day.

.......i've always known housewives were an admirable lot...i just never realise how much. it's not how much they have to handle. it's not how well they juggle their loads. it's how they manage to stay contented when they are giving up so much. it's how they sacrifice their life in fulfilment of others.

for the last 2 weeks, my days and nights rotated around preparation of meals, keeping my in-laws company, buying groceries, attending to the needs of the children and catching up on work whenever i have a small sliver of time available. the juggling is tough...but perhaps the toughest is putting my own life on hold. i ceased to exist. i mechanically go about the tasks that need to be done, to be the best that i can be. what i like, what i want to do, what i am ...cease to matter.

throughout the day, after barely finishing one meal, i have to go about the preparations for the next. on days when i have to re-stock the grocery, the schedule for the day is even more intense. forget about sitting down quietly with a cup of tea in hand for a while, i seldom have time to let my thoughts run its course, like now...... i'm too tired to even structure a proper thought.

yet, it's not the load that's tiring. it's how your life is put on hold to satisfy the needs of others. it doesn't matter what you want to be doing, it doesn't matter what you like to eat, it doesn't matter what you think or how you feel....i shudder to think of how i will feel if i had to live with my in-laws permanently. will i cease to exist?.......or my soul, at the very least. the very essence of me.

if you think of it, that's exactly what the mothers of our generation did, day in day out. they were there when we wake up, preparing for our meals. they were there when we come back from school. they were in the kitchen whilst we watched cartoons. after dinner, yet again you'll find them in the kitchen, while we are unwinding infront of the tv. everyday......24/7, without a holiday in between. how they can be content with giving up their dreams, their life in order to attend to our needs, i will never be able to understand. perhaps they didn't have any choice ....perhaps there isn't as much distraction / entertainment......perhaps they didn't have to juggle work and caring for the family, like i have to now......

my situation is only temporary. my sacrifice is only for the time being. i will have reprieve soon. how did our mothers do it for their entire life? how can someone be contented not to live, not to dream?

how can another being sacrifice their life, their existence for another? people who die for another is considered to be heroic. how about people who 'do not live' for others? the dreams they sacrificed...the joy and magical journey that they could have explored...the beauty that they could have seen.....the fulfilment that they could have enjoyed....

all i know is mothers are the greatest gift from god (if you believe in god, that is)

my last post

the almighty has tagged me again! and when he says 'tag', i jump!

i don't know why he does it, keep tagging me i mean. if you hop over to his blogroll, you'll notice that he is contending for the guiness' longest blogroll record. if he gets paid a dollar for each link, he'll be filthy rich by now. which brings me to the point that i don't know why he keeps tagging me, among his endless list of readers. one thing for sure, it's definitely an honor to be tagged once again by the almighty; it means i'm in his thoughts - constantly :-p *rolls eyes*

if i thought his last tag was difficult, this one is rocket scientist stuff. why can't he give me easy tags like the 70 questions one, or my favourite things.

this tag is ...my last post. what will i post about if i'm dying tomorrow or if the world ends tomorrow.

i've thought about it for days, for some witty topic to blog about...but if the truth be told, i don't think i'll want to spend my last hours blogging. infact, i won't even be switching on the computer. if i could, i would gather all my readers and meet them for the first and last time. as a closure to that chapter of my life, to finally see what all of you look like. all this anonymity thing wouldn't matter heck if tomorrow ends, would it? who's going to care?

i will spend my last hours with the people i love, the people that matters. if it was just me, and not the world, ending i'll be spending a part of that time getting gifts and writing notes for them to open when i'm not around. i want them to smile even in my absence. i want their memory of me to be happy, not sad.

if only life was so easy..if only we all know when we will leave, be given the time for closure and goodbyes...then it won't hurt as much....and maybe it will be a little more like saying 'till we meet again'....

so, my answer to the tag is not really an answer.....but i believe that's what i would have done in that position.

on to the tagging....it's not compulsory, i'm not too crazy about this tag but i'll still do my bit and tag another 5. i won't deny them the chance to earn the $1 linkback to the originator of the tag. me? i don't hear of the almighty receiving his $1, so i choose not to link back to mr creator.

and the list of the taggees are........drum roll please.....

1. wuching..who says i don't lafu him anymore.
2. annie...who doesn't have her own connection at the moment.
3. poohbearie...who's in training.
4. las montanas...who has gone into the background, for reasons i can't fathom.
5. jonzz...'cos his mood has improved.

the pursuit of happiness

my mood is most foul this morning....actually, it hasn't been the greatest since the weekend. the usual loud music +breeze +open window did not manage to temper it down even a single bit. i feel like punching, i feel like hitting, i feel like screaming....

when i get into a mood like this, the most difficult part for me is to separate my emotions from my life. i have to balance what i feel inside with the people around me, who are innocent bystanders and i refuse to let them be victims of my own frustration. to continue showing the most dazzling smile to the guards, to continue speaking as softly and gently to my in-laws, to keep loving my family through my turmoil, it's almost like having multiple personalities.

i'm angry with life. i'm frustrated with the ironies of life, the unfairness that is all around and all the rotten things the playing cards of life deals us.

over the weekend, i played the sympathetic ear to someone whose marriage is on the rocks. to look into her eyes and pretend to be sincere about telling her to stay and give her marriage a second chance, whilst i just want to hug her and give her husband a kick in the balls and say i totally understand why she wants to leave, is perhaps where my frustration emanates. never the devil be when giving advise, i keep reminding myself, never judge others' by their mistakes.....

i saw her getting married when i was still schooling. i saw her struggled to conceive. i watched her love for her family and how she laboured to balance everything in her life. i witnessed the gentle and good ways that is only her. for a woman, loving and giving your all to your family is not enough. more often than not, over the course of time, you'll find that your love will be taken for granted and taken advantage of....the wise one has to be there to provide, yet at the same time appear alluring enough to bewitch the man. whilst the man...has to do what? put up his legs and grumble about the difficult time he is having outside? i see this scenario swirling and repeating so many times around me that it is making me giddy. it makes you wonder what life is all about? all that i keep seeing have only managed to fortify the cynism that is hardening me. i used to watch in awe when he whispered 'happy valentine' to her ears and toasted with love in their eyes, not too long ago. how easy men forget in their hour of lust...

everybody wants a little inspiration in their life..a little something that makes you continue to believe. i do. that little thing that others did that touches your heart. a little reminder that this world is still beautiful. the little something extra that someone did for a stranger...the politician that did not go in for greed...the doctor that was not incentived by profits...

it seems to be increasingly few and far between now.....

the masterpiece

my masterpiece......

so damn proud of it!

what's cooking?

a moment by myself, before i'm off to prepare for dinner again...

after what seems like thousands of secretly placed phone-calls to my mother for last-minute tips on cooking, she volunteered that someone over at her place cook and send the dishes to me. that really tickled me pink. i can just imagine the scenario like some scene from a classic sit-com where the delivery boy passes packets of chinese take-away through the back kitchen door, and the lady of the house hurriedly pours them into her own plates, trying to pass them off as her own cooking. only problem is.....i stay in a condo; there is no back door. hahahahaha. yes, i'm hysterical from the absurdity of the suggestion...and the fact that everybody i know is repeating the same suggestion! everbody seems to be convinced of my inadequacy *rolls eyes*

it's so corny.....and i was horrified. i'm not the greatest cook, but doing that would be like acknowledging my own shortcoming. no wayyyyyy, people in this house will be eating the food i cook with my own hands, whether they like it or not.....*evil laughter ringing in the empty kitchen*

she thinks it's too hard on me.....sigh, the love of a mother. after being married for 11 years, only now i'm starting to act like a housewife. i hardly think that's tough on me. plus, cooking for my in-laws can only be regarded as a privilege, not a chore. i also have the added benefit of having life guinea pigs for my love of cooking *grins*....yes, i do like cooking...when it's not so stressful and i don't feel like i have to win the favour of people.

as i was cooking, it amused me to reflect the contrast of my situation with zewt's. a lot of firsts. first thing i'm deboning the damn fish (how i wish i was sylvester the cat, dumping it into my mouth and pulling out the skeleton with the flourish of the hand), first time i'm actually cooking dishes that i have eaten all the time and only theoretically know how, first time i've prepared all 3 square meals of the day, from start to finish....just as long as nobody sees the messy and unappropriate *rolls eyes* preparation process, i think i'm doing fine. *grins*

crystal ball

this is so freaky, almost like gazing into a crystal ball. how can the order of selecting 8 colours reveal my innermost thoughts, feelings so intangible that i couldn't even put into words. followed the link from poohbearee's site and fell into a world of wonder........

You have always longed for tenderness, love and a sensitivity of feeling into which you would like to blend. You are a very gentle warm person and responsive to 'All things bright and beautiful'. This personifies a caring person, a person who 'needs' and indeed 'needs to be needed'.

In the past there have been - and maybe there still are - many things that you have had to do without. You have now decided to set your sights on a position or situation that could give you greater prestige and which will afford you considerable self esteem.

You are prepared to establish a particular relationship that is being made available to you at this time. It could be a satisfactory liaison but there could be a certain amount of conflict involved -try to avoid direct confrontation at all costs.

You are feeling trapped by the situation as it stands at this time and what is more, you feel powerless to remedy it. You are stressful, angry and disgruntled. You feel that everything that you try to do to change the situation is thwarted and your hopes and aspirations all seem to be receding into the ever distant future. You have reached the state where you now doubt whether your dreams will ever be achieved and this is not only causing mental stress but heartache. You need to get away from it all - you need to have time to think, to recuperate, to be able to make your own decisions.

You wish to be left in peace... no more conflict and no more differences of opinion. In fact you just don't want to be involved in arguments of any shape or form. All you want is for 'them' to get on with it - and to leave you alone.

all this is a little too revealing....

another chef in the making

just like zewt, i find myself suddenly thrust into the position of designated cook for the household. however, unlike the master chef, i have no talent whatsoever in the given task.

everybody can cook...or so they say. yes..but the question is how well?

i have always believed that cooking is an art form and either the chef has 'it', or he doesn't. it's not simply a matter of putting things into the frying pan but knowing exactly which goes better with what and what will enhance the flavour is in itself a skill. of which i do not possess. that's why i have always been contented to let others carry out the task.

plus the fact that i am always surrounded by people who shine at the task so brightly that i am but a dim light by comparison. my cooking at most rates an 'edible' but definitely no 'second helping, please' or 'yummmmmmy'. no matter how often i try, i cannot replicate my mother, and my mother-in-law's, mouth-watering creations. looking at my shelves after shelves of cook books, it may be quite the irony.

HD, frustrated, asked one day why i am confident in everything that i do, except cooking. *shrug* i am most comfortable with cooking for my family; which includes the amiable hubby and the two 'apple-polishing' kids who will make a pretence of devouring my food. on and off, we will have a couple of friends over and i am still comfortable cooking for close friends.

however, cooking for my in-laws, who are very good cooks themselves, is a little more intense. for one, i do not know their taste, their likes and dislikes. for another, i am not crazy about getting on their bad sides. who knows what a diarrhoea (from uncooked food) or tummy ache may set off....it may just be the perfectionist streak in me, but when i do something, it drives me crazy when i cannot excel in it.

still, i will survive. i will adapt to the situation, and very soon too.

after all, i'm a virgo.

clothes maketh me

should i wear the pink shirt?

perhaps this black dress?

or maybe this long sleeve?

i spend a lot of time in my closet (yes, it's a walk in, so you people can just go ahead and be envious), trying to decide what i shall put on for the day. not as long as the normal average woman...but maybe 5 minutes more than the average male.

it's not a simple matter of plucking the item of clothing that is nearest to my hand. there are many factors to be taken into account, like my mood for the day, the weather, my schedules, whom i will be meeting and where i will be going, do i look fat in that dress (i can only claim temporary lapse of sanity when i purchased it)...among a zillion of other variables. so, you see, after taking into account all those questions that only a rocket scientist will be able to answer, i'm really not taking a very long time to come to my decision.

most men are under the mistaken impression that women dress to please them, or at the very least, for the pleasure of their eyes. it's normal for them to arrive at this conceited opinion and perhaps it may very well be true in the case of some silly, uninformed women; i don't know, i've never held a survey to find out what the womenfolk think.

i know for a fact that men do not notice what women wear. what they don't wear perhaps, but definitely not what they do wear. how many generations of countless men have got themselves in trouble by not knowing the difference between aqua and green, whether the straight cut or the a-line looks better or whether the first outfit is more flattering than the second? i'm sorry to say that the 'you look good in everything, darling' reply after the umpteenth outfit fashion display only works for the dim-witted ones. i do not delude myself into believing that men will care about the finer details of how i dress. how much cleavage i show will definitely be of more concern to them.

so, if it is not for the men, for who else then?

the ladies? perhaps. women have a very sharp eye when it comes to what other women are wearing. i have lost count of the times that i would have liked to dig out the eyes of ladies (is this word even appropriate?) who dared stood right in front of me and gave me the slow sweep with their eyes, from the top right down to my feet and all the way back up again.

the other day, i walked into the lift and bumped into this lady who lives on the same floor. she totally ignored me when i gave her a smile of acknowledgement. when she finally realised that i was getting off on the same floor, her pathetic excuse was that she "couldn't recognise you because you were always wearing pants". ?!?!?!?! since when do you recognise someone from the clothes they wear? and i most certainly do wear skirts, frequently too...maybe i just never bump into her whenever i do. it goes to show that she noticed my clothes more than my face, or me.

actually, i believe that i wear to please my own eyes most of all. to indulge in my own confidence and comfort. when i think i look good, i feel good. to me, that is what matters the most.

nuts, anyone?

i'm going crazy....

...over words that others shouldn't have spoken..but did...

...over things that others want me to do...in an impossible time frame.

...over the callousness of some and the unreasonableness of others...

...over attending to the needs of others and

...over the demands and requests of a few...


everybody wants a piece of me....

how can i leave some for my sanity?

love

the love of an uncle....

did i have that when i was growing up?

.....i can't remember.

choices

the problem with choices ....is that there are one too many choice.

life would be much simpler if there was only one alternative in most things we do. boring perhaps, tedious sometimes, but time-efficient. especially for this one who spends a lot of time deliberating behind fast-food counters and staring at menus, trying to decide what to eat, what to drink and whether to have the tempting dessert.

indeed, my life would be easier if i am not faced with all these head-splitting questions.

each day when i return to my apartment, i have a choice of two places to park; upfront in the visitor bay or behind, in the allocated carpark bay. of course, being the typical lazy one, along with many other people who stays there, often we choose to park in the visitor bay if we intended to go out again soon. this also means that the visitor bay is more often than not fully occupied, upon which we then have to make a tedious and time-consuming u-turn to return to our alloted space.

a few days ago, when i went to collect my car, i automatically headed to the visitor bay. halfway there, i realised that i have parked my car in the carpark. damn! the heavy box i was lugging along didn't help one bit. keeping my good spirits with me, i trudged to the car park. once again, enlightenment hit me from out of the blue when i was halfway to the car park. double damn! i did park in the visitor bay..........i think. *rolling eyes*

back i go again, re-tracing my steps. i wasn't really sure. i felt and looked like an idiot because i couldn't help grin to myself at this pure act of stupidity. the guards were probably scratching their heads at the antics of this lost, clueless dumbo. you cannot imagine my relief to see my car...........finally!

when i can't even remember where i parked my car, i think i really need some rest.

the beauty of a smile

the days are long, the hours filled with a hectic frenzy of trying to juggle a million things at the same time.

due to logistics problem, i have been fetching my children to and from school for the last three days, on top of my already filled to the brim schedule. it is hectic, to say the least, as they go to different schools and follow different time-tables. no sooner have i arrive home, grab a bite to eat, then off i have to go to send the other one. the routine pretty much repeats itself for the whole day.

yesterday, as i went to fetch my daughter for what seemed like the thousandth time, i was totally exhausted, tired to the bone. my spirits were down. my fight doused by the sheer distance i have to drive and the thought of all the work still waiting on my desk at home. arriving slightly early, i sat waiting for her in the car, my mind free from all the pressure for that short span.

then i saw... my daughter running towards me. on her face was the biggest, brightest grin i have ever seen. her footsteps were flit as they eagerly brought her closer to me. her pigtails bouncing in the wind and the breeze softly carried her tendrils in a dance. the glow on her face, the happiness to see me, i will never forget. she waved fervently and rushed over to where i was.

sometimes, i lose sight of the reason i chose to have children. when they are misbehaving, when they are naughty, when they throw their things everywhere, i wonder why. why is it that i chose the path of motherhood instead of basking gloriously under the warm sun in some exotic location.

on days like this, i remember. her smile, her ardour, her glow. it re-charged me in an instant and i am ready to go again.

that plus the fact that i wind down the windows and blast the stereo at top volume as i drive. it's good therapy. :-)

blogger sulking

to all my kind readers,

i am going on strike today :-p

this means that you will not be able to read what i was going to post today :-p

please kindly pay attention to the little line at the bottom of my previous post..the one that says 2 comments, and 1 of them being my own reply!!. :-p

yes, i am sulking (what? i'm a woman, right? cannot sulk meh?) :-p

i am waiting for my readers to be revived (anybody know mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?). :-p

it's like shouting to an empty canyon at the moment......helloooooo? (hellooooooo? - the echo) :-p

it's lonely here. :-p

call me when there is somebody around to give me companionship :-p

remembering gramps

fulfilled my filial duty over the weekend, together with throngs and throngs of other people who were stuck in the jam for hours. what was simply a two hours to and fro journey lasted 6 hours, all because last sunday was the best worst day for cheng ming, according to the fengshui masters or whoever. sorry, i'm no expert; i'm just in charge of sitting in the car and eating.

it has been quite a while since i have thought about gramps. grandpa stayed with me as i was growing up and so, he was always around in the shadows. he was a very quiet and dignified man, sitting around the dining table with his pipe or cigarette and his pot of chinese tea. he was not very keen on talking and on one occasion, has even told a close friend not to ask him questions on and on because he was tired of speaking. *grins* that's my gramps for you. as such, i have never heard about the stories of how he migrated from china, his early struggles and the glories of his life or how he married grandma. all i know of grandpa was what i witnessed as i was growing up, which was basically him sitting around the dining table. however, he was a very generous man, to everyone. after his passing, they gave me his heavy ceramic coin-box, perhaps because he was always trying to give it to me when he was still alive. it is filled to the brim and that slightly cracked santa is still staring back at me now. i have no intention of ever breaking it open to find out how much is inside. perhaps there are loads of $1 coins which are obsolete and thus redundant by now, but all that matter is the warm feeling i get whenever i look at the old santa coin box.

after he passed away, i dreamt of him only once. i remembered feeling angry because he didn't come more often in my dreams. what stayed for a longer time was the crazy fear of phone ringing in the middle of the night, for that was when he passed away.

my grandmother was the flip of the coin. she stayed very briefly with me and my memories of her were mostly in my uncles' and aunty's houses. she was more talkative than grandpa but miles more stricter..and fierce. well, maybe not so to her grandchildren.

my aunt was recently recollecting to me how grandma will scold and punish all her children if she so much as find rambutan skin in the bin when she was growing up. they didn't have any rambutan tree and were barely making ends meet. therefore, when the neighbour's beautiful and oh so tempting rambutan tree overgrow past the fence and into their yard, it was immensely cruel to be denied plucking them. grandma had a very strict code of conduct, aimed at teaching her children to grow up and be good responsible adults. with 10 children, i guess the only way to make sure they don't walk down the wrong path is to be strict.

my gramps.

i'm really glad i had a chance to know them before they passed on. my life is richer for all the parts they played in it.

post-celebration

past the craziness of the party, i fell into a deep melancholic mood. i think it's from over-excessive smiling and socialising; my system was rejecting the over-dosage and rebelled by throwing itself into the other extreme. i was nasty, grumpy and most of all, tired. well, for the rest of the day anyway.

all the things that could go wrong with any party, did. we had guests calling at practically the eleventh hour (which was really one hour before the party) asking if they could still come, even though the rsvp date was set 8 days ago! no problemo, we had anticipated that and as there was plenty of food, everybody was welcomed (eventhough i was cursing them under my breath for their very bad manners).

the food wasn't even set by the time the guests started streaming in, which resulted in moi running around and shouting in a hushed tone through gritted teeth like a mad woman. there goes my image. the entertainer, mr magician, did a no-show at the appointed time. of course, that further sent me down the maniac spiral. i practically pressed the redial button every other second, hoping to locate him and give him a piece of my mind. i don't think i want to recount the panic that followed. blah blah blah, fast forward a little, he came just seconds before i lost my sanity. sigh!

to top it all off, a little girl decided to lock herself inside the toilet. sigh! it definitely wasn't out of sheer enjoyment because she looked close to tears when i peeped through the windows ...however, i don't know which part of 'turn the key' that she didn't manage to figure out on her own. i put on my kindest 'fake-iest' voice and simply asked her to turn the key clockwise...and hey presto! i made a little girl appear from the toilet.

at the end of it all, the birthday girl enjoyed herself immensely...and i think it was all worth it to see the glow on her face. perhaps she may have been even happier if her mummy wasn't so grumpy. :-p

the silver lining behind the cloud? my strapless top wasn't pulled down by some mischievious over-active boy. i was pushing my luck a little, wasn't i?