she's 8, going on 36

sometimes, i'm afraid that i'm wasting my life. then again, i'm 36. that's normal.

i heard the same sentence being uttered again today, repetitiously.

but she's only 8! where does she gets these crazy ideas from? not from me, that's for sure. i have never spoken it out loud. at 8, her world has barely even begun. paranoia must be hereditary.

supermum to the rescue

i love for them to believe in the tooth fairy. i want them to believe in santa claus.

sounds a little corny and naive, perhaps, and a little unscrupulous to be misleading my children like that. i felt the slightest tinge of guilt when my son kept asking 'mummy, are you the man in red that comes to give us present?'. i tried answering indignantly, 'i'm not a man!!' but he didn't get it. what else could i do? i redirected him to his father. he's better at lying.

at some point in time, they will surely find out the truth. i am sure. but when i saw my son jumped up from his bed first thing early morning, and walked around blurry-eyed looking for present from santa, and my daughter telling me she is so happy because santa brought her the very thing she has been wishing for, i knew i'll continue to pretend to be santa for as long as i can.

it's not exactly simple 1,2,3 stuff pulling the wool on children nowadays. their keen observation and curiousity ('busybody-ness' may be a more accurate description) makes them even harder to fool than some adults. it doesn't really help that it's the holiday season and i've got them on my hands 24-7. the first task of physically getting the present was simple enough. chuck them at the taekwando class and floor the gas pedal to the nearest toys-r-us, having formed the plan and identified the targeted presents in my mind and ran them again and again through the fool-proof double-check machine lying idly in the cobwebbed cranial area.

then comes the problem of hiding them inside the boot of the car for the rest of the day whilst we carry on with the activities. i nearly died of heart-attack when dear friend wanted to get something from the boot and busybody daughter felt the need to peer in together, checking out what else she has in her bag. in the blink of an eye, supermum grabbed both children's hands and pulled them to daddy, mumbling some nonsense about them following daddy in the shopping centre later. you can see from their eyes they were as puzzled as i was. i can not respond instantaneously and make sense. it's physically not possible.

hurdle no. 1 cleared. supermum saved the day. we left the presents lying in the boot for the rest of the day, and night. hubby was suppose to bring them up after work the next day. *sigh* this is a testing year for us, supermums and imaginary santa clauses. mummy, the ordinary day type, had to bring them out, and return at the very same time that present courier-man comes home from work. not a minute sooner, not a minute later. luckily, supermum realised the coincidence in the timing and called mr. courierman ahead to check his position. he's just a block ahead! supermum took her feet off the gas pedal and simply let the car rolled forward, s...l.....o......w.....l......y. it was amazing no one saw fit to exercise their car horns and express their frustration. maybe it was the festive mood. and so, a gap of a few minutes was created and mr courierman could safely escort the presents home. once again, supermum saved the day.

not quite the end of the story, though i must finish fast before the little ones wake up and lean over my shoulder to read what i am writing. mr courierman left the presents in the closet and mummy, the one that keeps fouling up and making mistakes, promised the children that they could sleep in the room, on mattresses on the floor, and as you guys can guess, beside the closet. the very secretive closet. the younger one fell very quickly asleep, right next to the closet door. nothing seems to be going right. the older one was trying to keep awake to catch sight of THE man. halfway through a show, mummy mumbled something about toilet and went into the room to remove the presents from the closet, roughly turning the little one away in the process. supermum was in a hurry! nothing goes right the night before christmas. just when supermum was stashing the presents in another closet, the older one walks in and asked what mummy was doing. a prayer for small miracles. the light was not on. in the darkness she could not tell that they were big white toys-r-us plastic bags. supermum explained that she was on the way to the toilet when there was a crash from the closet, hence she had to come in and put things properly. and who said mummy can't lie? it wasn't me, it was supermum, honest.

hurdle no. 3 cleared. and hopefully the last. it was. just about. mummy was getting sleepy and tired from all the stressful run-around for the whole day and suggested retiring for the night. the little girl fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow....... but not before her mummy did. but with super-strength will, supermum forced herself to wake up and with blurry eyes and fuzzy brain, she stealthfully grabbed the presents into the living room to wrap. in the middle of the night. when her bed was still warm and beckoning.

there has to be an easier way next year. dear santa, please kindly help.

my friend

my friend. my lost friend. a friend i have not met for 20 years. a friend that i am sure i will not recognise if i bump into on the streets (at this point hubby will usually add that i will not recognise anybody i have met 5 minutes ago either)

some asked me how i still remembered her name (being totally familiar with my cheese-holed amnesiac brain) some asked why her, and not others. everybody asked how i manage to find her after all these years.

her name is easy enough, unique it will seem in the small island south of here. i have forgotten many things but her name comes quickly to mind. i did not, repeat, did not cheat by looking at the many letters and cards that i have kept from eons ago. :-p locating her was simple. maybe it was fate. she worked in a government agency, which makes searching for her name on google all the more prominent; her name was the top search result. as for why her, it's a little harder to explain. perhaps it was because i remembered how comfortable she made me feel. perhaps it was her letters; the sincerity, the love, the closeness between the lines. the letters that i hold dearest in my little memory box are not those that dripped with sacharrin sweetness or casual friendliness. rather, they are those that are filled with witty sarcasm and blatant name-calling, all aimed at my passiveness in replying and sometimes, nothing more than an affectionate term of endearment. (when has 'bitch' become a synonym for affection? when you know the mouth that speaks it is filled with love for you). criticicm that only a real friend will dare make.

excitement caught up with me soon enough. but perhaps more conspicuously is the absence of pressure; will i still like her? will she think i have changed? will she be the same? can we be as close as before? do i look good enough for first impressions all over again? all those questions were strangely silent. it didn't matter. nothing mattered. for this ms. worrywart, that perhaps is record-breaking. perhaps she was more worried than i am, reminding me many times that she has gained more weight during the years than she should. my reply - i don't think kilograms will affect a friendship.

to hug or not to hug? the conservative and the forever planning-in-advance me contemplated that as we drove up to the hotel lobby. but the moment i saw her, instinct took over. i could not not hug her. it doesn't matter if we are not going to be as close now, it doesn't matter if she looks different. perhaps moments like these are not meant to be broken down into split-second scenes and analysed frame by frame. it is meant to be embraced whole-heartedly with all your emotions revealed and pores acknowledging.

we ate lunch. we shopped. we met up again for christmas eve dinner.

the ackward silent scenes were not written into the script. neither were the 'so-close-again-like-time-never-tore-us-apart' pictures. it was a comfortable, slow-paced reunion. we didn't try to be each other's best friend again at the blink of an eye, demanding that all be restored by the powers that be instantaneously. but by dinner the next night, eventhough we haven't cut our fingers and dripped our blood together into a bowl in sworn sisterhood, we remembered how good our friendship felt. we remembered the closeness and the love shared. and i remembered why she was my best friend. her sincerity was still there. her straight-forwardness. she call it her gullibility. i call it her trusting nature.

i didn't find a new best friend overnight. i wish i had more to give of myself, from before i am cynical and hard, distrusting and cautious. i would have, could have been a better friend to her. i would have loved unreservedly, trusted flagrantly and laughed candidly. in the end, it did feel like the years did not diminish our friendship, but i felt strangely sad that i have not played a more active role in her life passed. i felt sad that i had less to give her now of myself.

still, we are beginning a new board game. all pieces start afresh. it's the here and now that matters. she may not be my closest and dearest from this moment on. or she may be. que sera sera. nobody knows the future. one lesson i am reminded; how to be a friend. a little tolerance and a little giving, something i don't find myself doing for a long time.

year end closing

i have a little over one week before i have to change my rubber stamp, and my entire mindset again to accomodate the change in the last of the four digit that makes up our roll count of years after the birth of christ. and as usual, i'm lamenting over how time flies, with nary a time for me to catch my breath or for me to acquaint with the old year.

it's the year end, and i'm feeling very much overwhelmed by the overflow of events. christmas party came and gone, but i feel somewhere stuck in time (what time exactly i do not know), not quite feeling the euphoria of the moment or the excitement of the festivity. i remembered christmas last where i felt xmas-sy from head right down to toe. the most christmassy christmas in all my life, if i remember correctly (and i do cos i have a blog entry to counter-check) was the way i put it. i think perhaps this year is the exact contradiction of that. a little karma to balance things maybe?

this week was filled with nervous tension as we waited apprehensively for the pronouncement of results that will either bring the dark clouds down on the remaining of this year and definitely next year or make up for all the sacrifices that were made. it was like lying on the guillotine waiting for the block to drop, each breath painful and frightening. words cannot begin to describe the relief, the exhilaration i felt when i was told she is given a second chance in life. a chance that not many is accorded and i hope it dawns on her how precious this little thing called life is. sadly, perhaps not.

with slightly more than a week to go before another milestone in my life, a significant change to my daily routines. the younger child will join his sister in primary school, which spells an end to those endless ferrying, but also an emptiness to my days and a big gap in my routines. to be filled by what? an opportunity for change, a door to another phase in my life. that is something that requires much deliberation.

a friend that i have not met since puberty, a closeness that was left to cool. a little apprehension, a lot excitement. i'm meeting up with her this weekend. it would be a crime to be unperturbed by it. characters in the play have changed, time and venue different. we are different people now, living in the real world. but it would be a terrible waste to allow it to corrode a love so pure, a friendship so true, formed when all was innocent and genuine. perhaps she can remind me of how i once was. perhaps the cynical side of me will be thawed, if only a little.

whilst the rest of the world is taking leave until the next year, finishing their allocated days of rest, i'm being bombarded by work that has to be completed before the year end. how typical.

this is how my year ends. let's watch how it shall begin.

paradise in your mind

i'm much better now, thank you, after spiking a fever at 39.2, spending sleepless nights on the throne and being dehydrated akin to an egyptian mummy, though i don't seem to see many people asking. i guess when you still have your sense of humour, you don't gather much sympathy.

another new day, another beginning.

someone recently asked whether i see new zealand as a place to settle in.

putting aside the worst last two days i've ever spend during vacation, with spats, or more accurately galores of bad luck one after another, new zealand on the whole is a very beautiful country. serenity, picturesque natural beauty, big open spaces, clear fresh air, tempting lamb chops and rib eye steaks covering every inch of land and definitely green green grass. whether the grass is greener on that side is a matter of opinion, and perspective.

like many others, i've grown very weary of the situation in our home country, much much more than anyone who knows me can imagine. i'm so sick of listening to the whiny political hypocrisies , pathetic stories of our police force who have long forgotten about duty, honour and pride in that honorable role as protector of innocent citizens, the double-standards (or is it triple?) that we have gotten so used to that we hardly bat our eyes anymore and don't expect any less, or any more. so many more that it will take a long thesis to complete the list. so many that i try not to think of it lest the angst of it all gives me a tumour.

a house overlooking the clearest bluest ocean water i've seen for some time, it's definitely a picture of life i've imagined for retirement. people who are leisurely and easy-going, which will probably cause me to have a stroke now but will probably be just right when i'm old and grey, though i seriously doubt my impatience will ever temper down (must admit though that new zealanders aren't exactly a very friendly lot but they warm up when your sincerity shines through). it's a place where your blood will be most unlikely to boil and your life expectancy lengthen. it's a place where you'll appreciate the beauty of nature. it's a place i've seen in my day-dreams and one i've seriously considered retiring to when the time is right.

however, this trip has taught me something new.

wise people say to be careful what you wish for because you may just get it. i see the glimmer of truth in the old adage. it's a very beautiful country, without a doubt, eventhough everything is so damn far and travelling is murder. but i cannot imagine myself to be staring into the deep blue ocean 24-7, 365 days a year, year in year out. or curl up with a good book. or take a walk in the park. or sit at the outdoor cafe from dawn to dusk. or going to one art gallery after another. every single day. yawn! it's all good and great when i'm all intensed like now and the break seems like a gift from heaven. but when i'm old and grey, and i have nothing but time infront of me. time, time and more time. before i drop dead, that is. i don't want to spend my remaining life staring at the ocean, doing nothing productive, letting one day merge with another until i can't tell one year from another. what did i do in 2020? was it the year i baked the triple layer cake? or was that 2022? no, i think that was when i spend the entire day riding on the bus. get the drift? if it's near the end, i'll like to go with a bam, not withering and molding like some forgotten piece of wood. if i'm able, that is. i've already spent a few of my 36 years hibernating in what can only be termed as existence. i don't intend it to be a life story.

almost everybody imagines a beautiful paradise as their final destination for retirement. but are you willing to settle for half a life when you know the time you have left isn't going to be an eternity? it's almost like waiting out your time until the big hooded faceless man with the .... (what do you call that thing he's holding anyway???? sickle?) comes a-knocking on your door.

i've seen my grandfather sitting around the dining table, day after day, as part of his daily routine. that or sitting on the back verandah for a change of pace. the dates changed, the picture remained the same. days merged into years. i've seen my grandmother sit like a limp doll on her wheelchair when she was recuperating from a broken hip, waiting forlornly for a visit from her loved ones. waiting, waiting, waiting.

i want to live my life. i want to go where there are things to do, meaning in my existence. it may not be here. it may be. who knows what the future will hold.

maybe it's just my restlessness, as usual.

my soul mate

i should be telling you about my trip. i would be telling you about my trip. except that i have some other pressing matters to discuss.

when you spend a lot of time with somebody, or something, you very quickly become very close. be it one day, one week or even one year. the duration matters least. when he is the only one you see, hour after hour, day after day, the only companion during cold, long and lonely nights, he'll feel like a part of your limb, your soul. one that you can't do without. separation, no matter how brief, will be painful, tormenting even. it may all very well be a delusion, a lie you've created as a balm for your soul. you believe that he is more perfect than he really is; all faults and flaws glossed over like the cover page of fashion magazines.

i met one like that recently. one that changed my perspective. my new best friend, my soul mate. he's there when i need him, ever ready, ever present. was it during the trip? or did it blossomed when i returned? i forget. when we are separated, i know it's a matter of minutes before we reunite; we cannot stand to be apart. it's a very exhausting relationship, the intensity of it all. i see more of him than any other during this short extreme period.

let me introduce........

my new best friend.

he goes by the name of mr loo to those who are not familiar with him.

curious to see how someone who has managed to capture my heart looks like?

well, maybe not so much as capture my heart as my bottom.

:-p brought a little souvenier back in the form of stomach flu. *sigh* (this is probably the only time when my readers don't scream for souveniers).

excuse me while i spend some more quality time with mr. loo. will be right back when my rear end doesn't hurt.