life is tiring

i'm tired today. i don't know why some people think that it is okay to be mean to be me, to use words that hurt, intentionally or unintentionally. i think i try to hard. and maybe that is suffocating to some. or maybe they don't see that i am trying hard, and they can't feel it. so that is why they are lashing out.

sometimes i hurt, and i want to give up. to disregard or to just ignore. but i can't. i can't be cold just because they are cold to me. i can't hurt just because i am hurt.

life is complicated. and i'm tired.

the boy

he is cold and aloof, apathetic and indifferent. he is sullen and keeps to himself. he doesn't talk when he comes back, he doesn't talk in the morning, he doesn't talk when he wakes up. he is moody and a teenager. you ask him a thousand questions and he grunts a reply. i could whack some sense into him, or at least some manners, but i really don't think that is the way to teach a child. i could nag, i already do, but a parent has to know when to open and shut that gaping hole in the face and so you choose your battles. i don't know how to bring up a son, i never understood the male species. you ask too many questions, they tell you to chill. you don't ask any questions, they say you don't care. sometimes you want to shout in their face 'and how much did you care for me?' but you probably can't stand the reply. when he is cool, he can be very cold. when he is chatty, he can be very warm. what goes on in the mind of a 16 year old boy, i will never know. i never knew when i was 16, i don't think i will know when i am 46. babies should come with an instruction manual.

..........the moment he opened his mouth and uttered a single sentence to me, all the anger and frustration of the day melted into thin air. such is the relationship of a mother and a son.

with you

when was the last time my mother brought me to the hair salon? i haven't the faintest recollection. when did i start going to hair salon on my own, telling the stylist how i wanted my hair done on my own. looking back it seems strange that i made the transition from going to the salon with my mum to by myself without even realising it, and now not even being able to remember no matter how hard i try. was it when i came back from singapore? when i was in secondary school? or when i went into college? i can't even seem to remember where my mother brought me to cut my hair when i was little. now that i am starting my journey of many 'last's, i wonder as i am sitting on the salon's swivel chair with my daughter on hers next to mine, and she going off to university very soon, when will be the last time i bring her to a salon. will it pass by without me noticing it once again? will it happen without much fanfare and notice, as with all things so inconsequential such as this? with the passing of all memories so small and sweet like this, every day things that many take for granted, sitting quietly beside each other without a word, comfortable with each other's company, time moves on no matter how we fumble and grasp at the trickling of its passing, only looking back once in a while with longing and nostalgia

insulted by a F

signing off on the year end accounts today. i just began to notice that there is a capital F behind my name, in brackets. uh...why? since i don't think i failed in my role as a director of the company, yet, i can only assume that the F must mean that this particular person by the name so and so (yes, that is my name, Ms So And So) is of the female gender. again, why? there isn't any M behind the other director, who is a male, so why this gender bias? i assume this means that by default it is a he, unless otherwise specified. have you heard of anything so prejudicial? on so many levels!

first (i can't even choose which is my first point of peeve), why does the gender of the director even matter in the financial statements? if 'she' signs, please take it with a pinch of salt? or are we so few and rare that every effort must be made to identify those rare specie and protect them? nobody has given me special treats, air-conditioned rooms and specially-grown bamboo so i don't feel very protected at all. i feel alienated and targeted for some strange reason that i have not been informed of.

secondly, the default is male. why? if there is a F behind the woman's name, shouldn't there be a M behind the man's? i do understand that the working society is predominantly male and there is more chance of hitting a male director than a female if you were to throw a rock in the city center, but if you deem it necessary to highlight the gender you should do it for both. our identity cards carry the gender of both male and female, they don't just state if you are a female and omit if you are a male. by being silent for the male gender, one is saying the default is male unless otherwise specified. i feel like i am carrying some kind of sign behind my name to advertise that i am carrying some highly contagious deadly disease. if i ever find out who is behind this great new law and i get to have the wonderful opportunity of meeting up with him (i can only assume that someone who came up with such a ridiculous idea must be a he, as with all the stupid prejudiced remarks that have been uttered by our nation's ministers and law-makers), he will never hear the end of my grumbles.

what is our country coming to? secretly, quietly, all these crazy people with prejudiced and unbalanced mentality are changing our world in the most perverse ways. people who think that it is alright to ask women to wear longer skirts or pants, to stay a metre away from the nearest male specie, who deem it alright for rapists to marry their victims....the stupidness is endless. i think our country can very well try for a record in the guinness book very soon.

do i know you?

i received 2 wedding invitations this week. bombs, they call it. i get faintly annoyed when i receive wedding invitations from people that i am not close with, not to mention those that i hardly know, as i am sure most people do. when someone you know well finds their other half, you feel happy for them and are grateful they have found someone to spend the rest of their lives with. but for people whose last names you don't even know, it is a little difficult to muster that type of passion for random strangers. it is pretty obvious that their intention is to rake in a little bit more income to finance the wedding and honeymoon and i scoff at such blatant display of motive. ha! there, i scoffed, but still, i understand them and accordingly, i send my best wishes in the form of cash.

however, it gets a little ridiculous when i don't know the names on the wedding invitation. the invitations somehow manage to find their way into my hands, sometimes a little mysteriously and it bears no name of the sender. the clue is in the name of the bride, bridegroom or the parents and perhaps i am suppose to solve it nancy drew style. oh no! that reference shows the age of this writer. i should make the comparison to sherlock, ie the benedict cumberbatch one and not sir arthur, which would have been even more ancient. anyway, like a fool, i had to go around asking people do i know so and so (father), or so and so (bride), or so and so (bridgegroom), like a dementia patient unsure of who and what they are supposed to know. the yardstick perhaps should be that if i would not recognise any of the names on the wedding invitation, it is not appropriate to send one to me?

'tis the season

how was your chinese new year? i seem to be getting that question a lot recently. is it just a customary way of extending greeting, or can they perhaps sense a little difference from within me? a little more detached, a little less mirthful, a lot more stressed.

as we grow older, the festive season is no longer about getting together with your closest relatives, laughing and giggling, receiving red packets, eating delicious food and wearing pretty clothes. it seems to be an endless list of chores, one after another, check boxes to tick before the 15 days of the lunar new year is over. in fact, the seemingly endless things to do starts before the end of the year, stretching all the way until the 15 days of the lunar new year is up. one duty after another, stacked up on ends into one high tottering tower of tension. today is the 5th day, and i still have more than a handful of things sitting prettily on the list.

meeting old friends and busy relatives should have been gratifying but everybody wants to talk, nobody wants to listen. the little games they played should have been fun but they were all so engrossed with materialism. the rich aunty who was not satisfied with a RM200 lucky draw. the guards and cleaners who rotated work station every 15 minutes so that they can get more red packets. the captain whose service was unabashedly motivated by a red packet. where does the spirit of the chinese new year fit into all these?

but isn't it the same every year? this endless list of customary things to do. this eternal greed. this shallowness. this isn't the first year, and barring any unfortunate events happening to me for the next 365 days, this will not be the last year. why is this the new year of discontent? why does the ugliness that escaped the pandora's box seem especially glaring to me and ruffles my feathers so? even as i sit on my wicker chair, swinging right and left, with the chirping of the birds and the din of the traffic intertwined, i don't have the answer to my questions still. perhaps this is what i needed. an escape. a sanctuary to hide for a little while and immerse in my thoughts, a shelter to introspect and reinvigorate, away from everybody, away from all the demands and expectation. perhaps i am weary.

chinese new year wasn't all bad. there were the friends who showed sincerity and enthusiasm. the sweet man who bought lunch because it was his first time meeting me. the nice couple who was heartfelt. the old friend who was modest. the relatives who came from afar to say hello once a year. the husband's friend who tried to make me feel less awkward. the dear friend who wished me better late than never. the kindest in-laws. and the lovely friend who asked me how my chinese new year was.