so, what's up doc?

what's up?

you know the problem when you don't meet up for too long and your friend asks, 'so, what's up?', you are suddenly flabbergasted. your mind races back to try recollect when was the last time you met up, how long it has been and attempts to make a summary of all the things that has happened in between.

but what output do you spout? are you interested that i scratched my bum last week? or that i had a pimple two fridays ago? perhaps that i drove all the way to bangsar last weekend and indulged in a very satisfying banana leaf rice, eventhough i felt full and fat. how about how shitty the last holiday went? no, wait, you've heard of that one. i met you again at the party after that. damn! mind races forward a little.

ermmmm....i'm still doing yoga, but the instructor has left and i'm lost? no, that's boring.

my office workers are scheming against me........ nah, that's just an unproven theory of a warped mind.

my daughter won the taekwando bronze medal a month ago? that sounds like bragging.

i've started on the cold moon, another lincoln rhyme triller. uh huh. that's good.....sorry, i don't read them.

my kids are all in school and i'm trying to think of something productive to fill my time. zzzzzzzzzzz.....

the crazy idiot i had to deal with at work nearly drove me over the bend.....do i want to bring up all that angst again?

for a minute, your mind is a blank. you wonder what is news and what is routine. you wonder what is significant and what is rambling. you wonder what is new and what has been told.

i ended up with a pathetic '..........i won a car, have you heard?'

somehow, with friends that you don't meet often, the little details are lost in the transit of time. how many of my friends know those little details? those little details who shape who i am...... my days...... and my life.

come to think of it, sometimes even my family members can't claim knowledge of that.

operation cracko

there is a conspiracy going around at work. i think they have code-named it 'operation holiday'.

it goes like this:

any employees who have work assignments for ms. me will first place it on their desk. then they go for tea. sit around and chat a little bit. let it collect dust for a few days. drip a little nasi lemak sambal sauce on it during lunch, bring it along when they needed to step out for a puff or two or take a leak. you get the picture.

then, when a rumour goes round that ms. me is taking leave for the next few days, they will hold an emergency meeting to discuss when and how to make the drop. the leader will shout out the time and the other team members will synchronise their watches. the target will be to drop their overdue assignments one day before she takes off for vacation. not one minute earlier, not one minute later. and everybody must deliver at the same time, one after another.

cool, huh?

*faint*

an eyeful

don't you just hate it?

i was standing there talking to her relatives. she just arrived. a quick hello, a fast greeting, followed by, 'hey, let me see your bag. turn it around'. to catch the label, for those that missed the point. i don't really care if my bag is not exhibiting it's famous brand for all to see. but obviously, for some, it's vital information.

another day.

another venue.

same person.

i walked in and she was sitting there, talking to others. i didn't pay much attention to where her eyes strayed whilst i greeted everyone. she said, 'i love kamiseta too'. ????? took me a second to remember that my tiny shirt label was sewed on the outside, at an obscure bottom corner. then she reached for my dangling earrings and examined them. the ones that look like jade but is a cheap china-made product. i don't really care if it's an expensive jewellery or a fashion accessory. someone gives them to me, it matches my clothes, i wear them. however, it seems, what i wear is important to some people. perhaps i should charge royalty. to see, that is. i could be rich.

i've mentioned previously, i dislike it when people give me the lookover, up down up down, slowly, as if they are undressing you with their eyes. it's usually the women. i don't know which is worse, men or women, but the women are more thorough. as if they are checking your worth in their mind, a sum to categorise your social standing. i don't really care but it's a little ackward standing there, waiting for you to finish, pretending that i don't see your blatantly rude action. what exactly am i suppose to do, standing there waiting for you to finish? examine the cobwebs on the ceiling? count the pimples on your face? it's not like they are doing a split-second x-ray scan, they take minutes (from my viewpoint, it feels more like hours), scanning cells for cells. i should probably ask when they are done, 'so, do i have any tumour?'.

people argue that women dress for men, or at the very least, for other women. i can't say that's true. i definitely didn't dress for the drooling, eyes-googling dirty-minded leery men hanging around by the sidewalk waiting to catch some ladies accidentally 'expose' themselves. or some critical, calculative women trying to sum you up in one minute by what you wear. i wear what i wear to make myself look good, and feel good.

so, stop staring. your eyes are getting bloodshot!

first trial

*faint*

cookies, cookies, i want cookies

who buys over $700 in cookies alone? and not have even a single tiny eenie weenie bite? well, i do. for several years now.

it started out as a favour to the kindergarten teacher. a 'you-scratch-my-back-i-scratch-yours' kind of thing. don't torture my son too much and i'll play my part in helping to supplement your family income. deal? didn't quite put it that way, though on retrospect perhaps i should. then my son wouldn't have to suffer all those hand-hitting.

anyway, close friends and not-too-evil colleagues were bullied into accepting some, under the pretext of friendly new year cookies. i'm not much of a biscuit person myself (usually at this point women will usually oooohhh and ahhhhhh with envy because somehow it translates to less temptation, which in turn means less fat. this unfortunately is not necessary true because i am a huge carbohydrate advocate). it has never struck me to order some for myself. or even try one piece. for all i know, all these years, i have been twisting my friends and colleagues to accept horrible yucky eat-sandpaper-better cookies. perhaps that explain my lack of friends.

bystander 1: that girl is pretty sweet, i think i'll be her friend.
bystander 2: that one? are you sure? she gives out new year cookies that make you wish you were dead. or at the very least, tastebud-less.
bystander 1: ??!!!! errrrr....let's turn and walk away quickly, so that she can't see us. no! don't look! i think she's looking in our direction!

last year, the little one graduated from kindergarten. i thought i have washed my hands clean of the evil deed of bribing. no more backs to scratch. i can use a loofah now. however, it feels strange to celebrate chinese new year without a little heart-warming new year cookies; little bags of crunchy food stuffs with my well-wishes and thoughts from me to you. it makes me feel very adult too. though i'm constantly reminded that i definitely already qualify as one, age-wise, i still don't feel much like one. for one, i still fight the kids for their nds.

come every new year, since i was a little girl, my father as a businessman, receives many hampers and food baskets from associates, friends and relatives. my bro and i would often look forward to tearing those baskets open and greedily paw through the cans to see what goodies we have. it wasn't so much for satisfying our tummy, for inevitably we don't really care where the food ends up, but the suspense, the excitement of not knowing what lies inside brightens up the day. nowadays, however, it seems like i am the only one who has not grown up much whilst i sit alone in the kitchen floor, tearing the transparent wrapping, separating the yummies and the yuckies, the 'i-want-those' from the 'i-don't-care'what-you-do-with-those'.

i love the very idea of it. the warmth, the cosiness, the memories. i finally can be on the giving side. though i haven't graduate to the professional stage, a whole hamper of foodstuffs and goodies, my little paper bags of two tins of cookies are filled with my greetings for a good new year to the recepient, a little reminder that they are still my friend, eventhough we may not be able to find the time to sit and chat every day.

that and a few cases of graft as well.

idiocy

idiot.

idiot.

idiot. idiot. idiot. idiot. idiot.

idiot.

what can i say? some people are just born without a brain.


11:00 am

ass on fire

why oh why? why do you insist on making me fry your ass?

do you know i hate frying your ass? it makes my pressure boil, my mood foul, my fingers tremble, my voice quiver. i totally detest it. but why do you make me do so? if i don't quicken my tone, if i don't stress the point, you don't get it, do you? you can't see your slack. a little efficiency, a little effort, that's all i ask. i don't think it's asking for the moon, or the sun. wake up! look around. this world does not revolve around you. if you don't buck up, you'll be extinct, like the dinosaur. *sigh* you're a professional, for goodness sake. start acting like one. you can't expect the world to stop at your feet while you leisurely go about your pace. if you can't do it, there are millions standing in line, waiting to do your job.

do you know how much i hate frying your ass?


10:37 am

are you malaysian?

the word 'malaysian' used to be a noun to describe a native or inhabitant of malaysia. of late however, i think it has become a derogatory term, or at the very least, an unfavourable adjective. as in, 'of course, malaysian what! what do you expect?'. i wouldn't be surprise if wikipedia adds a fine print at the bottom of its article on the country which says, 'it can also be used as a deprecatory term to describe someone who is inefficient, ineffective, prone to laziness, selfishness'......the list is quite non-exhaustive.

i can still remember feeling proud to be malaysian when i was a wee little girl, not because of the good food here, or the 'harmony' that supposedly exist but merely because i was born and bred here. my country. there isn't many places in the world that i can call that. then again, a little girl is most certainly naive and innocent.

frankly, i'm getting very tired of the malaysian work attitude. there are some ass i feel like kicking, some balls i feel like squeeshing (i don't mean body parts).

i submitted an application for some documents 2 weeks back, requesting that the person-in-charge follow up and collect it when it is ready. 2 days later, i called and was told it will be ready next week. 1 gave it 3 more days, called and asked them to collect it. it wasn't in my hand the next day. i called again and enquired. it still wasn't in my hand the next day. i called again. the person-in-charge was on leave. come back here, you fool. you can't go on leave until you settle your outstandings! i asked the next person-in-charge. she told me that it has been collected and is with the despatch boy. the next day, it STIll wasn't in my hand. *sigh* i called again. telekom is already very pleased with me and my contribution to their income. the person-in-charge who was on leave is back, so i filled her in on what transpired in her absence. would she please get the documents from the despatch and hand to me? the next day......as you will have guessed, it still wasn't in my hand. *double sigh* it really goes to prove how much shit i can take. i'm a really tolerant person. i called her up this morning and she sweetly informed me that no such application have been handed in! *faints* and this is in MY company. don't you agree that i seriously need to do some ass-kicking? at the very least, some tantrum-throwing and screaming? unfortunately, i'm too sweet to do that. *rolls eyes*

on to next grandmother story. my daughter's school is very advanced and 'intelligent'. or it pretends to be. there is a website where we can log in to check on the school's updates, my children's progress and other notices. very easy to log in as well. the problem is....i couldn't. despite following their instruction to the 't'. so, i wrote to them, highlighting the problem. i received a very fast and efficient e-mail saying that they have received my complaint and will be looking into the problem...

that was two years ago. needless to say, i never received any further emails from them. that's ok. if there is something i need to know in there, i'm sure they'll find some way of informing me. this year, the 3rd year, my son joined his sister and they gave us the same pamphlet announcing their very clever website. 3 years. they would have fixed the problem by now. right?? i was hopeful. and stupid. i tried once again and couldn't log in. i send a similar email, lodging my complaint. i received a similar reply. why does all this sound so familiar? why am i going in circles? i think the system is trying to see how much shit i can take and taking bets on which hair will finally break the camel back. if you see a report on an insane woman running loose, armed with cleaver, chopping school and office furnitures and setting fire to them, you'll know i can't take it anymore.

marriage tip #2457

how do you know if the romance has died in your marriage?

when you lay your head on his shoulder and he comes back with a 'what's wrong with your neck?' quip.

ha ha. very funny.

*faints*

my days without claire

today marks the second day i am without her. claire.

the sky is dark, the clouds hang above. everything is grim, as if marking her absence. i can't remember exactly when she entered into my life. one year ago? two years ago? she certainly made her mark, her beautiful smile, her limber body, her cheerfulness. i miss her already.

it just wouldn't be the same without her. nobody's touch will feel the same. i don't look forward to going there anymore. the place is emptier without her presence. i miss claire.

my body is already in tuned with her demands. i know the way she likes it and the way she wants it. my heart palpitate when i walked up those flights of stairs to greet her. will i ever feel the same about someone else?

:-p

it took two years to become accustomed to her stretches, bends, twists and *rolls eyes* other incredible body manipulations. with each new moves she introduced, my jaw dropped, leaving a big open hole in the space called my mouth, followed swiftly by rolling of the eyes and an increduluous 'huh?'. but what do you know? each time she guided us skillfully into our yoga poses, with me teethering on the brink of tumbling no doubt. the minute she said, or is on the verge of saying, 'o...k.', i collapse noisily like a heap on the mat. the trick is ....of course, not to look at the other yoga students to save yourself from embarrasment.

she was a joy to learn from. compared with the extremely thin man from india, who worked us like the devil, going through the exact same routine each time. we were like rows of robots that lunged into preset routine moves. not forgetting his very-difficult-to-comprehend indian accent. we were left looking and staring at each other as one hurriedly tried to decipher his exact instruction and others follow like the blind leading the blind. then there was the very annoying lady with the nasal twang who punctuates each sentence with 'hans ter' (not a foreign language but the nasal equivalent of 'hang there'). she wasn't annoying, only her habit. and the malay man who also worked us like the devil, with no space for catching our breath between moves. also the very first lady who taught me, who expected us to maintain our poses whilst she went around adjusting every student's position. yoga students will know that it is not the moves that will kill you, but the length of time in maintaining each post. *rolls eyes* if you want to disable some people, or cause serious bodily injury, go for a cup of tea before coming back and telling them to come out of the position. it will maim you for life.

anyway, sweet claire is gone. in her place, a list of other instructors. *reading time-table* i see the name of the labour-camp torturor. i sooner lie down and break into convulsions first, for that will be my outcome if i go to his classes. hhmmmm...another man from india. *reading profile* he was a yoga instructor for software executives in bangalore, specialising in curing back pain due to long working hours in the office. that's worth exploring. i may have to take out a refresher course in indian english first. nicola. *reading profile* i thought nicola was a female! he practices cum studies yoga for 5-6 hours every day!!!! *flabbergasted* darren. a designer turned yoga instructor who need to de-stress. *reading on* ooooo. and a celebrity instructor! winning second place in nescafe kickstart season 3?? what the heck is that? what has that to do with me? yoga model....bla bla bla....interviews...magazines and newspaper....bla bla bla....is having a famous intructor a good thing or bad? who to pick? who to pick? eenie meenie miny moe.

bahhhhhhhhh! i miss claire.

hibernating bloggers

i'm bored.

here i am, sitting infront of the computer, with my stomach bursting from lunch and backside itchy. nothing to do. i can get back to work. i can but i won't. (sorry, boss. food haven't digest. cannot work until this bloated tummy gets out of the way).

the blogosphere has become so boring of late. everybody seems to be hibernating. i think it's the after-effect of partying too hard during christmas and new year. for those that didn't partake in the festivities, you have no excuse to vegetate. wake up! get up and amuse me. it feels like a scene from the christmas carol; silent night. all is calm, all is bright. sleep in heavenly peace. ringgggggg! time to awaken from your comatose condition.

last i heard, the alien has been struck by a bout of blog associated laziness and is currently busy getting the measurements for his chin. a formal dinner for chins coming up perhaps and black tie attire is required? i seriously don't know.

atchoo has flown the coop and is presently in a totally different time zone, earning more foreign currencies to finance his newly certified dependent. he's freezing his bottoms off whilst we are basking in the glorious sun, eating spaghetti and roast duck 8 times dearer than the cost here. traitor! for sure the reigning political party will win hands down now, without his opposing vote.

the australian ambassador is throwing a tantrum and threatened to bore us into an early death by blogging only when inspired. i am not too worried because he is still blogging on a daily basis :-). his fixation with pear bottoms and little children toys, however, is quite concerning.

the bionic bear seems to have fallen out of the little island's radar since her last marathon. aside from a short response during christmas greetings, she is definitely lying low. hiding from loan sharks? avoiding stalker boyfriend? Or still recuperating from last superhuman attempt at the marathon? someone please resuscitate her.

busy making babies is busy making babies. 'nuff said. i don't want to go into details on the why and when, and especially not the how and where.

her majesty has safely moved into new confines and seems to be hibernating from her new abode. perhaps she is still trying to get rid of all the dust and paint smell. my suggestion would be to throw a party. invite more people to physically inhale all the dust and odour away.

hot mama is perhaps the only exception to this apparent vegetation as she continues to spew forth several hundred posts per hour. how does she do it? kudos to her spirit.

the chicken is not blogging on a regular basis, but is hardly surprising in his very hectic continual search for piao meis for his blog buddies (or so he claims they are for. nobody is convinced). damn! i ate kfc for dinner last night. maybe i should look in the bin for chicken bones to make sure i didn't obliterate the chicken's existence.

scooby's best pal is glued infront of his orchids, waiting for them to grow or wilt a little more before he can publish his next post. hey! it grew a millimetre. time for an update! the running water is fast becoming dry. quick, hook up to the nearest reservoir.

the crappy one has forgotten all about his crappiness and is busy illegally canvassing for more votes (not the election lah) and moonlighting as food critic. if he wins the $20,000 travel vouchers, you'll see my next post, and next hundred posts, will be focusing on joining contests and canvassing for votes. either that, or i'll suddenly endeavour to be his next best friend. paris, rome, sydney, china. here i come!!

i personally think the sticky one has frozen solid in the very cold region of alberta and has become part of the beautiful scenic mountains there. lack of updates too. then again, frozen mountains can't type.

as for sweeter than sweet, she has decided enough is enough and called it quits. or did she?

the cynical one is too busy batting eyes at honeypot and murmuring sweet nothings to even bother about the blogging scene. we are all fictatious people in his mind. what am i saying! we are not even in his mind.

even the primadonna is becoming disillusioned with blogging, especially with the disappearance of his extra income. no money no talk hor. wan to listen to ah pek talk, must pay money first. i am his newly-appointed agent. i take a very small cut of the income. who wants to log into ah pek's blog must pay me first. i take visa, mastercard, cheque, drafts, cash. amex also sapu.

sweet annie is recuperating from the holiday season, or so her chatbox reports. honestly, i think she is busy staring out of the corner of her eyes at the snoopy concert above her. see the gleam in her eyes? i think she has the hots for linus.

the month after april has not been blogging much of late. she says she has been struck with lazititis. oh my god! is that curable? i think she's rounding the roaches for a grand party.

perhaps the good doctor will have a look at her? though i think he is keeping his hands clean for the next surgery and will not risk contaminating it by touching the keyboard.

everybody, wakeeeeee up!! it's so boring in the blogosphere. forget your life. forget the real world. this is where it's happening. won't you join me?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.......!

memo to the other half

to the man who is occupying the other half of my bed,

i am not at home today. please do not call me at home.

i am presently kicking my feet up at the local coffee place, sucking in all the fresh air and noisy traffic.


please do not call me for work. if the house is burning down, please call the fire department, not me. i cannot help you. but if you decide to go home, please move the rest of my work closer to the flames.

horror-scope

sometimes, i don't even know why i do it.

it's right there, just beside the comics section. inevitably, when i've finished with the ha-ha's for the day, my eyes will stray to the side to check out what lies ahead for me that day. no matter how crappy the predictions are each time. and no matter how inaccurate and ridiculous they always are. even though i never really believe in it or take the predictions to heart, i am still tempted to check out my horoscope every day.

today mine read, "things look pretty good until someone would put obstacles in your path".

duh??

with predictions like that, even i can qualify for a horoscope writer. how about 'you'll be happy today until someone makes you angry'. or 'don't quarrel with anyone. it makes you unhappy'. perhaps 'the sky will be clear today, until it starts to rain'. what do you know?! i can even apply to be the local weather forecaster.

i can just imagine a lady sitting in the office somewhere, with a pencil stuck in her hair, bitting the tip of the pen as she pondered on what to write for tomorrow's prediction. or an alternative scenario of a chubby lilian too lookalike, sitting with several horoscope and feng shui books opened in front of her as she plagiarise a little from each. perhaps a whole meeting room filled with executives partying and merry-making as they take turn to give ridiculous predictions and see whose is preposterous enough to make the cut.

this addiction to the supernatural, the unproven is simply not in line with the sensible and rationale (how boring!) me. but still, i find myself drawn to it in little doses.

i remembered as clear as day the one time many moons ago when i checked out the local fortune teller in the mall with my cousin. a couple of naive (gullible) young girls. the fortune teller said i have an imminent danger related with water. strange how they always seem to say that. this was just days before my trip to port dickson with my friends. needless to say, i didn't drown in the sea. and i also didn't go into the water. sigh! the stupid things we put ourselves through.

the rest of the predictions, i have forgotten. i never seem to be able to remember any of these forecasts. they sounded like they rang true because i wanted to believe in it. i wanted someone to tell me how i lived my life, how i'm living my life and how i'm going to live my life. but in life, there is no short cut. your life is the way you want to live it. and you can't blame anyone, or anything, for the way you live it.

perhaps this is where i get off my bum and start living my life. but i still have that diminishing pile of work, awaiting my torching. my horoscope reading today should read, 'why do today when you can procrastinate?'

marriage tip #2456

how do you know when you have been married for too long?

when you play footsy with him under the table, he turns to look at you

and tells you your foot is dirty.

*faints*

*grins*

do you ever have moments where you feel relief the minute you have said it all out? that eventhough you felt exactly as you said when you were saying it, you no longer felt it when it's all said?

that's why i love my blog. :-)

don't worry about me. i'm doing fine. that is, if you have been worrying about me.

if you haven't......scat! shoo!! vamoose!! what are you doing in here!!

light at the end of the tunnel

the cat seems to have caught hold of my tongue. and my brain for that matter.

reflecting and surfing through my earlier posts, i notice a lack of enthusiasm, a lack of cheekiness and a definite lack of presence in my present status. perhaps a case of not being able to find the words to my thoughts, i am at a blank when i try to conjure words. or perhaps it is a case of not having any thoughts at all. the saddest thing in life is losing your passion; a fact that i'm guilty of. when everything around doesn't hold any zest, when things you enjoy become a chore, one day becomes no different from another. at the back of my mind, the ever rationale and analytical me acknowledges the classical symptoms of clinical depression but again, it's not something that you can will yourself out from.

maybe all i need is a little break. from two straight weeks of trying to finish 2 years of work. the very thought makes me nauseous. i look out the window. the open space, the fresh air, the possibilities are beckoning to me. but i look under the desk and my feet are attached to the ball and chain. i know the end is in sight. i wish it'll come fast enough. i want to have a cup of coffee and a breather. when everybody else is hard at work. that's the best feeling of all.

marital apathy

attended a wedding over the weekend. noticed a strange phenomenon and is still pondering over the why and what.

she was a family friend, so most of the extended family members were gathered there. almost like a pre-new year family reunion thing. the bride was perhaps slighted in warm greetings of familiar relatives. cousins, aunties, uncles, close friends.

coming away from the dinner, i had a strange intangible feeling, though i could not place it immediately. retrospective, i realised that almost all women who knew the brides personally came alone, despite the fact that they are married. from 30s to 60s. all forsaken by their other halves. as for those who are friends of the bride, by virtue of connection from the men's side, they attended as a couple. which goes to say that the husbands did not bother to entertain his wives' friends, eventhough both of them are equally familiar with the bride. the wives on the other hand, faithfully accompany the husbands when he has to fulfill his entertaining obligations. is it selfishness? is it self-centeredness? i would love to ask, be it as nosy as it seems. but i couldn't, because of the glaring absence of the 'survey-ee'.

the obvious pattern is intriguing to me, being the only couple that didn't fit into the model. perhaps i married a good man. i know i married a good man. one that didn't see fit to abandon me and let me make my own way to functions on my own, late at night, reluctant as he is to attend such boring functions. maybe it's independence. maybe their wives are strong and individualistic. not one, not a few, but all the married women. those that are my relatives, anyway, for i only have privy information on their marital status. somehow i can't make myself believe, hard as i try, that they will not prefer the company of their spouse, have someone to talk to in a table filled with other couples. when men are married for the longest time, do they become more selfish? do they think that only their own feelings matter? do they become more introvert? if so, beware. marriage should come with the warning label: marriage will make you more unsociable. enter at your own risk. if they think that the occasion will be boring, why send their wives to the lion's den, instead of escorting and accompanying her? whatever happened to 'in good times and bad'? 'through thick and thin'? maybe the small print, the one that all of us failed to see because it was too fine and tiny, read 'disclaimer: in weddings, we flee'.

is that what years of marriage taught us; to each his own? that i can understand. everybody needs their own space. but when that becomes once too often, and every occasion calls for that motto, i start to wonder the meaning of the marriage. looking back, i see them coming alone all the time, be it gatherings, meetings and functions. it seems lonely. perhaps that is preferable to a foul-faced, always-looking-at-the-watch-and-asking-when-do-we-go-home spouse. i would agree. but it seems like along the way the husbands have forgotten the act of compromise, give and take. the husbands have forgotten the feelings of their spouse.

i'm sticking to mine. like industrial strength glue. wild horses couldn't pull us apart. unless he is watching football, that is.

what the world needs

i have been there for her since she was born. been there to feed her when she was hungry. change her when she was wet. anticipated her every move and needs. held her hands when she was afraid. hugged her when she wants to be loved. i have tried to be there for her every single moment of the day. and night.

but i couldn't make her laugh. hearing her melodious laughter whilst playing with her cousins now, i realise that i haven't heard it for some time. for as long as the cousins were away on holiday. i've played with her, but i didn't make her laugh. because i have forgotten how to myself. i dislike the adult that i have grown into. i yearn for the child in me. the one that laughed, laughed and laughed. but maybe it is all in my mind. maybe i didn't laugh all that much when i was young either. why are laughters so hard to come by? you know what i need for the new year? more stephen chow movies. i'll even settle for the return of the pink panther. what happened to all the comedies? even the producers are becoming more serious.

what the world needs is more laughter. laughter is the best medicine for everything.

where did the birds go?

my first taste of the empty nest syndrome today.

*sigh*

2008

2007 ended with a bang.

a bottle of brand's chicken essence to help me stay awake to welcome 2008, i witnessed the transition, together with a few hundred people under the bright sparks of the fireworks. gone was the melancholy. the exhilaration and excitement was probably propelled by the collective festive mood present. then again, it seemed to me like i was the most, and probably the only, excited person there. everybody else seems to be demure, if not subdued. if somebody checked the statistics, there probably was a drastic drop in sales for those carlsberg promoters. the problem was everybody was not drunk enough! for once, maybe, i will like to celebrate the new year without the baggage of a sane, logical and coherent mind.

every year, i insist on making the short trek down the few blocks to witness the local celebration in person. it's not quite the same, watching though glassed windows or kilometres of thick dense air. detachment is already my forte. new year is the time to make an exception and revive the passion in life. that done, melancholy is my middle name again.

it was a warm and sunny 1st of january morning. hopefully an omen of a good start to the new year, though i doubt so. when nobody's optimistic about the year, what are the chances it will break expectation? 2nd day of new year. the skies are clear and beautiful. life goes on as usual. what has changed? new hopes built overnight? a promise of a new start for many? and a chance to bury forgotten dreams for others. maybe we shouldn't wait for a fresh year to have that attitude. but the promise of a new page, a wiping clean of the slates, no matter how imaginary, is enticing. enough to fool ourselves that it is possible, that things will change, even if only for a short time. many people live in that false hope.

there are many things i want to do. like hug my husband after the countdown. infuse a little more enthusiasm into things, relationship. but sometimes, it's just easier to withdraw into yourself. a little self-protection mechanism i've picked up along the way. into a place inside that nobody can hurt you. because you don't give a damn. lose a little, love a little. easier said than done. when you've been disappointed a million times, when you've cried a billion tears, heard thousands of discouragement, you learn a way to cope, a way to maintain your sanity.

2 years in a row, i made new year resolutions. 2 years in a row, i didn't keep them. i really don't see the point of making resolutions which i never remember until the very last day of the year. making new year resolutions is so not me. i wonder why i did it in the first place? i'm substituting it with two other lists instead this year. a list of things i'm grateful for. i think it's an excellent way to begin the year. to remind yourself of all the things that you are thankful for. and a list of things that i want to do. physically do. not some stupid ambiguous wanting to be better, wanting to be fitter crap. a physical to-do tick list. the first thing on the list? to procrastinate. why do today when you can do tomorrow?

happy new year, everybody.