i called the accounts department for enquiries on my account. after listening to my case, she referred me to the billing department. she will try to pass the line, she informed. after waiting for a few minutes, she said, i'm sorry, they are very busy at the moment. can you please call back?

there is no number that i can choose for the billing department for your automated operator, i replied. yes, there is no direct number to the billing department. thinking that she misunderstood me, since i wasn't asking for a direct telephone number, i clarified that i can't choose the billing department when i'm calling in. yes, you will have to call the accounts department and we will try to pass for you. (that is the part where my jaw hits the floor - like roger rabbit). by experience, you will be more lucky early in the morning or late in the evening. (she was serious! i am suppose to test my luck, very much like the jackpot gambling machine. honestly, i would rather use my luck on lottery tickets)

isn't there an e-mail address that i can send my enquiries direct to? the e-mail will only go to the e-mail department, not the billing department. my jaw can't very well drop to the floor two times, so i am only left with a big gaping hole where my mouth is. how do you even respond to something as senseless as that. i can't help but think that only in our country we will have a system as fool proof as that - a system to proof that the designer is a fool.

i've never thought that secretive invisible departments very much like the c.i.a. and f.b.i. will exist for billing department of a national telephone company. i wonder if they operate from some secret basement 100 feet from ground and is only accessible by a secret lift disguised as a letter box.

pets are suppose to teach children about responsibilities, empathy and love. that's why we got them some pet fish when they asked for a dog and some dwarf hamsters when they again asked for a dog. it's not my fault that our condo doesn't allow dogs.

however, i don't think the pets are doing a very good job in educating the kids. they are next to being forsaken and forgotten. someone else has taken over the job of cleaning and feeding. inevitable. kids' attention span is as long as one episode of ben 10. that's why they split it into 30 minutes episodes and not dragging on-and-on-and-on like the korean dramas. after an attack of conscience, i wanted to return the hamsters to the shop, to give them a second lease of life and new owners who will remember to play with them. that's when the little one decided that he loves little hammies and can't bear to give them away. that's when his renewed enthusiasm for hamsters was unleashed and he gave them a second glance again. only to realise that one little hamster has a growth on her ear. i'm guessing it's a tumour. the little one is now crying for me to take her to the vet. seriously. her great-grandparents cost me like $10 each and i'm suppose to spend hundreds of dollars on surgery, medication and doctor? don't take me wrong, i'm very a very emphatic person; that's why i wanted to return them to the shop in the first place. i don't think that we should be keeping them isolated and caged, but to spend a bundle on this small animal whose lifespan extends only perhaps another few months more, i can't help but feel that it is money wasted. especially after reading that such pocket animals do not take well to surgeries with their small hearts and all. sigh. so, this animal finally taught my son to be emphatic, to be loving, to be caring, but i have to say no? i don't even know how to explain to him. there shouldn't be a price on a life, but in reality, i can't deny that there would be better use of that money. to say that its life is not worth saving is crude, heartless even. i have another 4 hamsters growing older each day. i never thought that there will come a day when there is a distinction between what is the right thing to do and what is ethically right.

i am a romanticist at heart. looking out of the huge glass window of the van into the wet gloomy skies of taipei, i feel like i am infatuated with the city, at first sight. it's all about feelings; everything feels so right. a sleep romantic old soul with a modern technological side to it, so much like this writer.

the windows are fogged up. i use the back of my hand to rub against the glass. a circle of semi-clearness in the middle of foggy vision. this is my idea of happiness. it takes so little to be happy. the green shrubs, the mountain, the cold air, teardrops on my quitar playing into my ears. i want to remember everything.

will frustration kill? did anybody die from frustration before?

there are so many people out there that talk the talk but doesn't walk the talk. i am surprised. i know that theoretically, i suppose, that there are always people who talk wonderful stuffs, flowery possibilities, amazing feats. i am not one to socialise well or blend with the crowd, simply because i have no interest in listening to one blow his horn, real or perceived. however, when real-life experience shows a 100% curvature towards people who cannot deliver but boast to the sky, i am a little miffed. not that i was expecting any result, but it was just one sentence extra to ask, so i did. i wasn't expecting any spectacular results, but it's strange how you can still be amazed when you were expecting nothing. kinds of fortify my already poor peception of mankind.

if humans don't work the way they are suppose to, that is even more true for technology. either i am running a string of bad luck or i'm being tested to the extreme by inefficient, erratic, impossible-to-deal-with electronics. a plus b do not compute c. not even after tens of thousand of people have used it. they should have figured out how to fix the bug by now, you will think. still, i guess that sounds about right. people who are not working right produces things that do not work right.

each time i look back on the photos of previous years, the first thought that comes to mind is 'how young and pure i look then'. exactly how OLD and COMPLICATED am i becoming???!

it will never be enough. men, as in humankind, will never be satiated. you give them $100, next year they will say that it is not enough and ask for more. you give them $1,000 and next year they will come back again and say it is not enough. you give them $1,000,000 and one year later, used to the luxurious lifestyle, they will once again come back and say that it is not enough. how easy it is to get use to abundance, to more. can one claim the same flexibility to less?

such is the greed of mankind. pleasure and satisfaction are short-lived, the desire for more will always return, sometimes with a vengeance. perhaps that is the basis for development, for growth, but never being satisfied means never being happy.

it's not the first time that someone has told me that i'm so happy-go-lucky, and it definitely won't be the last. seriously, me? happy-go-lucky? funny how i've never thought of myself as that. melancholic, perhaps. melodramatic even. if only they know how difficult it is for me to put aside the little things in life that makes me sad. the only way i know how to deal with it is to push it out of my mind. no matter how much time has passed, the pain still lingers. the frustration, the denial, the sadness. i've just learnt to apathetic about the death of my granddad, i've just forgotten how phone calls in the middle of the night jars me, and he is dead for more than 16 years now. i'm slow in handling and accepting such matters of the heart. when i close my eyes, sometimes i can still see the final moment of my aunty, so morbid and dark. i try not to think of the loss of my closest and dearest friend, lest it brings tear to my eyes and brimming frustration to my heart. i can still remember the apprehension of visiting my grandma in the hospital, knowing what's inevitable but yet putting on a brave front. i remember all that which i do not want to remember.

however, i do not wish to live my life brooding, and being afraid. death is not as frightening as being the one left behind. it does not take courage to die, but it requires a lot to live. so, yes, to all those who do not see this side of me, the side that only my mirror sees, i am a happy-go-lucky person. to all appearance, i am.

a friend asked me for a favour today that reminded me of what i am. unconsciously i have made a distinct separation between what i am and who i am. when your life is thus complicated you end up sounding like someone with split personality.

i try not to take offence. perhaps there is none to be taken. i don't know, i'm not sure. i don't have anyone to tell me that i shouldn't be feeling this way, that this is still considered normal. sometimes being what i am takes a toll on the spirit. it has it's perks, no doubt about it, but it's not as glorious and wonderful as everybody perceives.

it jars me slightly to be reminded of what i am. the last few weeks have been a beautiful escape from reality. i was who i am, not what i am. life was simple. escape is always transient

civilities are such a bother. you receive something physical. that in itself should be the end of the story. happily ever after. that is, however, only the beginning of the modern-day war of civility, where each outperform the other in being more polite, more tactful, more well-mannered. the sender follows with a sms informing you that he/she has sent something to you. which in turn prompts one to send back a thank you sms and that serves as the cue for the sender to send back a you are welcome sms, to which you reply you are most kind, if you so desire, or if you do not wish to seem ungrateful. you get the picture, the story can be an endless one. meanwhile, the telcos are laughing all the way to the bank.

not one for exaggerated acts of civilities, i'll bet i have many people cursing behind my back for my lack of proper upbringing and manners. i also don't acknowledge when people give me instructions or information. most will send back a simple noted or a brief ok. i have to practically twist my arm and force my obstinate self to acknowledge selective smses when my rude alter ego so allows. most days i just keep stubbornly silent. i guess that is arrogance on my part, not something that i am proud of. however, despite this flaw in character, i adamantly refuses to throw away good money for simple acts of civilities which mean nothing more than idle chit-chat and wasting time. if you send me a sms, assume that i have received it for i have not known an occasion when my local telco have failed to transmit the message.

and yes, you there, i did not believe it when you told me that you did not receive my sms the other day. do i look like a fool?

i have a love-hate relationship with that little dot down south. perhaps not so much hate but more like apathy but love-apathy doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

on some visits i feel very detached from the little island that had been my ome for 4 years when i was growing up. the fast paced growth and development has left everything alien and different, an unfamiliar faint resemblance to the home of my many memories. nothing is how or where i remembered it. faint shadowy ghosts linger around, not quite knowing where they belong in the new beautifully structured island of singapore.

this time round i love the island for what it is, and not what it held. the cleanliness, the orderliness, everything is as it should be. things work like they should and people behave with simple clarity. perhaps it is because i am merely a visitor passing through. perhaps my fondness lies in the uncomplicated guileless lifestyle i can lead there. the world is not perfect there. there is no reason it should be, there is no perfection anywhere, but it's a far cry from the complicated web we weave over here. this time round i love the little island for being my little shelter from the storm.

not so much a new year resolution, more like a reminder for the new year. this year i must learn to slow down, to not feel so guilty for slacking a little, to take a breather at times and to love myself a little more.