Meeting my PohPoh this coming Monday afternoon!
She keeps drifting into my mind - albeit briefly, like a stray strand of hair - for the past couple of weeks.
Woot!
And I met LH for dinner yesterday night. Weet!
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Monday, 30 March 2009
Sunday, 29 March 2009
QUESTION
What's the point in maintaining, or going after - or believing in, even - things that are vulnerable, unpredictable, unstable, rocky, and fragile?
It's not right to generalize. But, for all that's it's worth, it's still hardly worth it.
It's not right to generalize. But, for all that's it's worth, it's still hardly worth it.
Thursday, 26 March 2009
ECLECTIC
Just as the topic suggests, this post entry is going to be, well, eclectic.
1) This late afternoon, a couple of us went around sticking these to the floor tiles in campus; in a bid to raise awareness for the talk our CIP group is hosting tomorrow afternoon. Pasted all these "footprints" until I thought I'm really going to train up some serious muscles. But, man, I'm really proud! Of the "footprints", I mean. Not the unsightly muscles.
2) Some of the CIP members saw me for the first time today ever since I have had LASIK. And now, what more with the recent hair treatment, they say that I look uncannily like an Egyptian mummy. I seriously have no idea whether is it a compliment or not.
3) I think I'm falling ill more and more often. It is only March; and already, I've been down with bad spates of cough at least twice. Caught the fever bug once already; and perhaps I'm on the verge of catching it for the second time.
The first time I fell sick, I was not even aware of it. All I was aware of is the super-bad cough, the super-bad throat, and the super-bad abdominal muscles ache due to coughing too hard and too much. I was so lethargic.
Doro and I were sharing a cab home after an impartation session that particular night, and it was only after having reached home and popped a thermometer into the mouth then did I realize it's a fever. It peaked at 39.5oC that night. Slept more than 12hours. Skipped lesson the next day. Obtained an MC. Along with it; paracetamol pills, phlegm pills, flu pills, cough syrup, and lozenges.
It is barely 1month ago! Less than 4weeks! And guess what? My body has been feeling a little atypically hot to the touch since last night. Perhaps, it's the cold weather of late. Perhaps that is causing the extremities to be colder than usual, and thus the misconception of "feeling hot to the touch". Ahhh...
4) I'm planning not to wear the jeans for the time being. It really irritates the banana out of me. Loose clothing is perfectly fine, but when it comes to the extend whereby BOTH hands can be slotted underneath the waistband, it's totally another thing. It feels like something is hanging precariously by the hips. Like it's going to drop anytime soon. AND it's a bother, because whenever I squat or sit, I've got to be mindful of the back of the jeans. Arrrgh! Dad was just nagging a couple of hours earlier. But, really, I'm trying.
5) Watched "Marley and Me" on Tuesday afternoon. Oh gosh, I've always liked Labradors! They're awesomely adorable! The lopped and droopy ears! Marley passed away in the movie. We nearly teared. So sad! The movie reminded me of Lucky. My rabbit was so smart and lively and docile. All of a sudden, I miss her. Quite a bit.
6) Dad always "longpang" me to campus whenever I have morning lessons at 8.30am. Even though taking his car means having to wake up an hour earlier than I would have if I had taken public transport, I still choose the former. Sure, waking up at 5.30am is horrible, but at least I can nap peacefully in his car. Normally, I would reach campus at 7.30am and sleep an hour more in the Triangle until 8.30am.
Recently, I've been reaching home late. Reaching home early at 7pm is already very rare. As the parents sleep early at around 8pm, by the time I reach home, they would be in bed already. The next morning, they would be out while I'm sleeping. Out of a week, 5 days I hardly get to see them.
Now, I'm feeling bad. The morning car rides are a perfectly good time to chat and catch up and bond. But? I'm sleeping like a dead log during these golden times.
7) The other day, on a Sunday afternoon, I was at home doing the assignments. Dad walked by, and started chatting about a random topic. Busy, I just gave half of the attention to him. The ears were listening to whatever he was saying; the eyes were reading the monitor screen; the hands were typing on the keyboard; and the brain was trying to process the 2 souces of input. I scantly gave sufficient attention to punctuate with the appropriate "Uh-huh", "is it?", "Really?" at the right time. Occasionally, I popped a question or two. "Why leh?", "What happened?", "Then how?".
I didn't even so much as to give him a full glance.
The conversation went on for quite a while. Gradually, he started telling some cold jokes. Normally, I would laugh and play along; competing to see who's colder. This time, however, is not the time. My patience was already wearing thin. "Haha... Ya, right. Ok lah, ok lah. Tsk... Wo xian zai zai zhuo gong ke... Bu yao jiang hua leh... Hen chao leh."
I didn't yell.
I didn't scream.
It was more like a statement. Soft statement. Under my breath.
He went away.
I still feel bad.
Hold your tongue.
8) PH is having her fashion runway tonight! Too bad I couldn't be there. Heard that Inessa would be there as well. Awww!!!
Sometimes, I wonder, if Grace and Inessa were to meet, I have a feeling they would be all over each other. Maybe for the initial, first meeting they would be shy. But, I bet, they'll be totally cute around each other as time goes by! They're both chubby, bubbly, cheeky, and lively, AND cute. What more, both of them have a pitless stomach!
9) I was at Giant today to check the prices for food items for theupcoming BBQ at Des's and Sher's house, and passed by this section selling baby toys. Some of them caught my eyes, and momentarily, I wondered if Grace would like them.
Grace always mixes up "throw" (diu) with "drop" (diao). Sometimes, she'll deliberately throw a piece of used tissue onto the floor, only to proclaim, "Diao! Tissue diao." We always correct her, "No... Not diao. Diu, bu shi diao. You didn't drop it; you threw it. Diu."
I wonder has she learnt to differentiate between the two yet.
She also likes to call banana as "nana". We always correct her too.
I wonder is she able to pronounce the full "banana" now.
Grace is smart. She is able to identify facial features. The last time I tried, she is able to point out her hair, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
I wonder has she made any progression. Hands? Feet? Tummy? Teeth? Tongue?
Her articulation is not very good yet. Instead of ears (er duo), she pronounces it as AR duo instead.
I wonder, has she mastered the correct pronounciation yet.
She likes to sniff her socks. Repulsed by the offending smell, Grace would winkle up her nose and brunch up her face comically.
I wonder has she learnt that dirty socks are not meant to be put near an inhaling nose.
I wonder has she grown any taller.
I still find myself missing her.
1) This late afternoon, a couple of us went around sticking these to the floor tiles in campus; in a bid to raise awareness for the talk our CIP group is hosting tomorrow afternoon. Pasted all these "footprints" until I thought I'm really going to train up some serious muscles. But, man, I'm really proud! Of the "footprints", I mean. Not the unsightly muscles.
2) Some of the CIP members saw me for the first time today ever since I have had LASIK. And now, what more with the recent hair treatment, they say that I look uncannily like an Egyptian mummy. I seriously have no idea whether is it a compliment or not.
3) I think I'm falling ill more and more often. It is only March; and already, I've been down with bad spates of cough at least twice. Caught the fever bug once already; and perhaps I'm on the verge of catching it for the second time.
The first time I fell sick, I was not even aware of it. All I was aware of is the super-bad cough, the super-bad throat, and the super-bad abdominal muscles ache due to coughing too hard and too much. I was so lethargic.
Doro and I were sharing a cab home after an impartation session that particular night, and it was only after having reached home and popped a thermometer into the mouth then did I realize it's a fever. It peaked at 39.5oC that night. Slept more than 12hours. Skipped lesson the next day. Obtained an MC. Along with it; paracetamol pills, phlegm pills, flu pills, cough syrup, and lozenges.
It is barely 1month ago! Less than 4weeks! And guess what? My body has been feeling a little atypically hot to the touch since last night. Perhaps, it's the cold weather of late. Perhaps that is causing the extremities to be colder than usual, and thus the misconception of "feeling hot to the touch". Ahhh...
4) I'm planning not to wear the jeans for the time being. It really irritates the banana out of me. Loose clothing is perfectly fine, but when it comes to the extend whereby BOTH hands can be slotted underneath the waistband, it's totally another thing. It feels like something is hanging precariously by the hips. Like it's going to drop anytime soon. AND it's a bother, because whenever I squat or sit, I've got to be mindful of the back of the jeans. Arrrgh! Dad was just nagging a couple of hours earlier. But, really, I'm trying.
5) Watched "Marley and Me" on Tuesday afternoon. Oh gosh, I've always liked Labradors! They're awesomely adorable! The lopped and droopy ears! Marley passed away in the movie. We nearly teared. So sad! The movie reminded me of Lucky. My rabbit was so smart and lively and docile. All of a sudden, I miss her. Quite a bit.
6) Dad always "longpang" me to campus whenever I have morning lessons at 8.30am. Even though taking his car means having to wake up an hour earlier than I would have if I had taken public transport, I still choose the former. Sure, waking up at 5.30am is horrible, but at least I can nap peacefully in his car. Normally, I would reach campus at 7.30am and sleep an hour more in the Triangle until 8.30am.
Recently, I've been reaching home late. Reaching home early at 7pm is already very rare. As the parents sleep early at around 8pm, by the time I reach home, they would be in bed already. The next morning, they would be out while I'm sleeping. Out of a week, 5 days I hardly get to see them.
Now, I'm feeling bad. The morning car rides are a perfectly good time to chat and catch up and bond. But? I'm sleeping like a dead log during these golden times.
7) The other day, on a Sunday afternoon, I was at home doing the assignments. Dad walked by, and started chatting about a random topic. Busy, I just gave half of the attention to him. The ears were listening to whatever he was saying; the eyes were reading the monitor screen; the hands were typing on the keyboard; and the brain was trying to process the 2 souces of input. I scantly gave sufficient attention to punctuate with the appropriate "Uh-huh", "is it?", "Really?" at the right time. Occasionally, I popped a question or two. "Why leh?", "What happened?", "Then how?".
I didn't even so much as to give him a full glance.
The conversation went on for quite a while. Gradually, he started telling some cold jokes. Normally, I would laugh and play along; competing to see who's colder. This time, however, is not the time. My patience was already wearing thin. "Haha... Ya, right. Ok lah, ok lah. Tsk... Wo xian zai zai zhuo gong ke... Bu yao jiang hua leh... Hen chao leh."
I didn't yell.
I didn't scream.
It was more like a statement. Soft statement. Under my breath.
He went away.
I still feel bad.
Hold your tongue.
8) PH is having her fashion runway tonight! Too bad I couldn't be there. Heard that Inessa would be there as well. Awww!!!
Sometimes, I wonder, if Grace and Inessa were to meet, I have a feeling they would be all over each other. Maybe for the initial, first meeting they would be shy. But, I bet, they'll be totally cute around each other as time goes by! They're both chubby, bubbly, cheeky, and lively, AND cute. What more, both of them have a pitless stomach!
9) I was at Giant today to check the prices for food items for theupcoming BBQ at Des's and Sher's house, and passed by this section selling baby toys. Some of them caught my eyes, and momentarily, I wondered if Grace would like them.
Grace always mixes up "throw" (diu) with "drop" (diao). Sometimes, she'll deliberately throw a piece of used tissue onto the floor, only to proclaim, "Diao! Tissue diao." We always correct her, "No... Not diao. Diu, bu shi diao. You didn't drop it; you threw it. Diu."
I wonder has she learnt to differentiate between the two yet.
She also likes to call banana as "nana". We always correct her too.
I wonder is she able to pronounce the full "banana" now.
Grace is smart. She is able to identify facial features. The last time I tried, she is able to point out her hair, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
I wonder has she made any progression. Hands? Feet? Tummy? Teeth? Tongue?
Her articulation is not very good yet. Instead of ears (er duo), she pronounces it as AR duo instead.
I wonder, has she mastered the correct pronounciation yet.
She likes to sniff her socks. Repulsed by the offending smell, Grace would winkle up her nose and brunch up her face comically.
I wonder has she learnt that dirty socks are not meant to be put near an inhaling nose.
I wonder has she grown any taller.
I still find myself missing her.
Monday, 23 March 2009
DESPERATE
This shows how desperate I am. Lack of an electronic organizer, the Vista Desktop is being utilized as one! And 4 separate notes for each individual weeks. Woot!
This week is horrendous. Come to think of it, every single week is. For this week, there are:
2 presentations,
2 assignments due,
hosting a CIP talk (ushering!),
and 1 practicum briefing to attend.
Next week is slightly better; but not much - 3 assignments due!
________________________________________________________
Recently, I came across this article. Because of busy-ness, I just skimped through it briefly. Apparently, keeping late nights increases the risks of breast cancer. This is because during nighttime, the body produces dunno-dunno-dunno-what hormones which help to keep the level of estrogen in check. Hence, by keeping awake in the wee hours by using artificial lighting when the body is supposed to be SLEEPING, the level of the dunno-dunno-dunno-what hormone in such women becomes abnormally low; thus exposing them to higher levels of estrogen which, in turn, puts them at higher risks of getting breast cancer.
Shocking, eh? It's common sense that keeping late nights is harmful for health. But seeing it being backed up by logic and scientific evidences, it's a totally new level. I've always thought that it's already very commendable that I make an effort to sleep at least 5hours per day. The latest I allow myself to stay up to is only 2am; and it's only at a frequency of once in a while. At 2am, like Cinderella when midnight strikes, I log off and tuck myself to bed obediently. True, at 2am, I might not get the targeted 5hours of sleep. But at least, there are 4hours.
But now? Maybe it's not just the duration of sleep that's important; but - more importantly - the timing of sleep as well.
Conclusion? Wake up when you're supposed to wake up. Sleep when you're supposed to be sleeping.
My new resolution? Try to sleep by 12am from today onwards! Now you know when NOT to sms or call me unless no choice. I'm a light sleeper. One SMS is enough to rouse me. My mood won't be pretty.
___________________________________________________________
I'm a glutton lately! Food is always on my mind! It's crazy! The hypothesis is this. Either that, or perhaps being busy has a strange, starvation effect on the tummy.
Anyway, last night, I was doing assignment until near 2am. AND! In the midst of it, at around 12am, I felt pecky. Images of food keep floating into my mind mischievously. No, it's not hunger at work; but rather, it's more of the simple urge to EAT. I was ravenous!
So, I was just chatting to a friend online,
The next thing I know, half an hour later, a deliveryman was knocking on the door. MACDONALDS! Ohmygosh! It was so unexpected. I was so surprised. The younger brother even nearly turned the deliveryman away. Gahgahgah! Yes, thanks for the meal!
FOOD! GIMME FOOD!
Friday, 20 March 2009
HUGS AND TRUST
I think it's really amazing. It might not really speak a lot, but a simple gesture can reflect much. It's not always only the BIG things; sometimes, the little things speak much more.
I like it so much whenever Grace comes up, requesting to be carried. I don't deny, it's a real ego-booster (oh my, oh my! She wants ME! Awww!!!). Looking deeper, more than mere physical intimacy, it speaks of trust.
Maybe it's something that's part and parcel of growing up, but people tend to get increasingly skeptical as they grow in age. Past experiences? Past failures? Past unmet expectations? Past disappointments? I don't know. But one thing that's certain, "Sure anot?" is the very first thing that would pop into my mind if ever someone - anyone - offers to carry or piggyback me. Babies? Nah, they don't think things that are complicated.
Sometimes, while carrying her, Grace would give me a little hug too - in her own way. It's subtle and hardly noticeable. But the pressure is as real as can be. She'll intentionally press her body against mine, tighten her little arms around my shoulders, and rest her cheek on the nape of my neck contentedly. That's it. She'll lie still and lap it up with pleasure. Sometimes though, she'll even stroke my back and my arms randomly.
I miss her.
I like it so much whenever Grace comes up, requesting to be carried. I don't deny, it's a real ego-booster (oh my, oh my! She wants ME! Awww!!!). Looking deeper, more than mere physical intimacy, it speaks of trust.
Maybe it's something that's part and parcel of growing up, but people tend to get increasingly skeptical as they grow in age. Past experiences? Past failures? Past unmet expectations? Past disappointments? I don't know. But one thing that's certain, "Sure anot?" is the very first thing that would pop into my mind if ever someone - anyone - offers to carry or piggyback me. Babies? Nah, they don't think things that are complicated.
Sometimes, while carrying her, Grace would give me a little hug too - in her own way. It's subtle and hardly noticeable. But the pressure is as real as can be. She'll intentionally press her body against mine, tighten her little arms around my shoulders, and rest her cheek on the nape of my neck contentedly. That's it. She'll lie still and lap it up with pleasure. Sometimes though, she'll even stroke my back and my arms randomly.
I miss her.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
B.U.S.Y
Can't talk.
Assignments. E-learning. Assignments. Presentations. Projects. 10 modules! Kill me!
There's about an average of 2 - 4 assignments due per week. AND this is excluding the major, graded assessmentS (yes, with a capital S) due ranging from late April - late May.
This Friday late evening is yet another CIP meeting. This means leaving campus at 6pm plus AGAIN. Sigh! I'm also doubling up as secretary! Minutes-taking!
Next Friday, we're hosting a talk in one of the LTs. Booking of LT. Food catering. Reception. Publicity. Generating awareness. Target audience. Getting permission from the office. Pasting posters. Distributing flyers. Ushers. Emcees. No, I'm not doing everything. Of all these, I'll mainly only be in the usher section. Maybe, sans clashes in our individual schedules (really, 20 members in a team, all with different CS combination. Really! Tsktsktsk!), I'll perhaps help out a little here and there with the posters pasting, flyers distributing, cutting, blahblahblah.
Thank goodness for committees and department heads!
No time to eat. No time to sleep at least 5hours per day. Don't even have the luxury of time to think about what to wear this Sat.
Ah!
Assignments. E-learning. Assignments. Presentations. Projects. 10 modules! Kill me!
There's about an average of 2 - 4 assignments due per week. AND this is excluding the major, graded assessmentS (yes, with a capital S) due ranging from late April - late May.
This Friday late evening is yet another CIP meeting. This means leaving campus at 6pm plus AGAIN. Sigh! I'm also doubling up as secretary! Minutes-taking!
Next Friday, we're hosting a talk in one of the LTs. Booking of LT. Food catering. Reception. Publicity. Generating awareness. Target audience. Getting permission from the office. Pasting posters. Distributing flyers. Ushers. Emcees. No, I'm not doing everything. Of all these, I'll mainly only be in the usher section. Maybe, sans clashes in our individual schedules (really, 20 members in a team, all with different CS combination. Really! Tsktsktsk!), I'll perhaps help out a little here and there with the posters pasting, flyers distributing, cutting, blahblahblah.
Thank goodness for committees and department heads!
No time to eat. No time to sleep at least 5hours per day. Don't even have the luxury of time to think about what to wear this Sat.
Ah!
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
SLEEPYHEAD
Last night, I did some assignments until 2am plus. Was so tired that the eyebags were freaking huge, the eyeballs nearly popped out, and the eyelids could hardly open. Plonked onto bed and was in dreamland within minutes. Mondays and Tuesdays are killers.
I woke up this morning, feeling like a million dollars in Rupiah currency. I peered at the mobile phone and groaned. It's already 7.15am. This is the first time ever since training started that I oversleep! For once, I allowed myself to fall hook, line, and sinker. Oh, the feeling! I really miss being a student! Back in university days, in situations such as this, I would just give lesson a miss. Now? It's either a medical certificate, or a warning letter + pay cut. Grrr!
I burrowed deeper into the sheets, foolishly wishing that I am running a fever (on second thoughts, I take back my words). At the very least, I would be granted an MC and get a day off from school. I sighed deeply and got out of bed. This feels like crucifying the flesh. I changed into a new pair of jeans. Opened the closet. The brain refused to decide on what T-shirt to wear. Glanced at the bed. And plonked back right down. The bed and pillow and bolster are all so comfy and fluffy. It has a magical, seductive, pulling effect. Me? I'm like a drunkard being led by the nose. Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.
I'm generally a light sleeper. While the mental aspect is not a problem, the physical aspect is a totally different matter. While consciousness normally drift back swiftly, extracting the body from the springy bed is always anything but easy. KelL knows it all too well; he has enough first-hand experience to occasionally give me a 2nd wake-up call when he has been tasked to give me the first one. Once is not always enough, yeah.
I lazed in bed until 7.30am. Enough is enough. Anymore and I'll be a goner. I quickly donned a shirt, packed my stuffs, brushed my teeth. This is bad; taking a cab all the way to Boon Lay would cost a bomb. At times like this, it's always Daddy to the rescue. Fathers are heroic!
Pounced into the room and woke him up. Thank goodness it's school holidays. I shook him lightly by the shoulders and asked sheepishly, "Pa... Can drive me to campus?" Like a jack-in-a-box, he sprung up (really, he did) and changed into a button-down shirt. Within 10minutes, we were out of the flat. Dad is always - and simply - amazing. He has the patience of a saint. If someone wakes me up like that, I wound most probably grumble and whine and grumble and whine somemore. Not forgetting, this is already not the first time in a week. It was only on Saturday afternoon when I pulled the same fast one; I was running behind time and - irritatingly - all the cabs were fully booked. He ended up driving me to Doro's house.
I reached school at 8.20am; just right in time for the 8.30am lecture. Thank goodness!
Lessons ended at 6.30pm today. After which, we had a CIP meeting until 8pm (!!!). I was not only exhausted, but also famished. All I had for the whole day is 2 slices of white bread with jam in the morning, and a can of Cappucino and 3 small sardine puffs which I grabbed hurriedly from the canteen for lunch.
I reached home at 9.30pm, and finally had a proper meal for the day. I love the school holidays; it's only during the holidays when there would be home-cooked dinner. I love Dad's cooking. And, really, it's awesome coming home to nice, home-cooked food. It makes one happy.
Tired! Logging off soon!
I woke up this morning, feeling like a million dollars in Rupiah currency. I peered at the mobile phone and groaned. It's already 7.15am. This is the first time ever since training started that I oversleep! For once, I allowed myself to fall hook, line, and sinker. Oh, the feeling! I really miss being a student! Back in university days, in situations such as this, I would just give lesson a miss. Now? It's either a medical certificate, or a warning letter + pay cut. Grrr!
I burrowed deeper into the sheets, foolishly wishing that I am running a fever (on second thoughts, I take back my words). At the very least, I would be granted an MC and get a day off from school. I sighed deeply and got out of bed. This feels like crucifying the flesh. I changed into a new pair of jeans. Opened the closet. The brain refused to decide on what T-shirt to wear. Glanced at the bed. And plonked back right down. The bed and pillow and bolster are all so comfy and fluffy. It has a magical, seductive, pulling effect. Me? I'm like a drunkard being led by the nose. Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.
I'm generally a light sleeper. While the mental aspect is not a problem, the physical aspect is a totally different matter. While consciousness normally drift back swiftly, extracting the body from the springy bed is always anything but easy. KelL knows it all too well; he has enough first-hand experience to occasionally give me a 2nd wake-up call when he has been tasked to give me the first one. Once is not always enough, yeah.
I lazed in bed until 7.30am. Enough is enough. Anymore and I'll be a goner. I quickly donned a shirt, packed my stuffs, brushed my teeth. This is bad; taking a cab all the way to Boon Lay would cost a bomb. At times like this, it's always Daddy to the rescue. Fathers are heroic!
Pounced into the room and woke him up. Thank goodness it's school holidays. I shook him lightly by the shoulders and asked sheepishly, "Pa... Can drive me to campus?" Like a jack-in-a-box, he sprung up (really, he did) and changed into a button-down shirt. Within 10minutes, we were out of the flat. Dad is always - and simply - amazing. He has the patience of a saint. If someone wakes me up like that, I wound most probably grumble and whine and grumble and whine somemore. Not forgetting, this is already not the first time in a week. It was only on Saturday afternoon when I pulled the same fast one; I was running behind time and - irritatingly - all the cabs were fully booked. He ended up driving me to Doro's house.
I reached school at 8.20am; just right in time for the 8.30am lecture. Thank goodness!
Lessons ended at 6.30pm today. After which, we had a CIP meeting until 8pm (!!!). I was not only exhausted, but also famished. All I had for the whole day is 2 slices of white bread with jam in the morning, and a can of Cappucino and 3 small sardine puffs which I grabbed hurriedly from the canteen for lunch.
I reached home at 9.30pm, and finally had a proper meal for the day. I love the school holidays; it's only during the holidays when there would be home-cooked dinner. I love Dad's cooking. And, really, it's awesome coming home to nice, home-cooked food. It makes one happy.
Tired! Logging off soon!
I WILL LET YOU CHOOSE
Meet Edwin Thomas, a master of the stage. During the latter half of the 1800s, this small man with the huge voice had few rivals. Debuting in Richard III at the age of fifteen, he quickly established himself as a premier Shakespearean actor. In New York he performed Hamlet for one hundred consecutive nights. In London he won the approval of the tough British critics. When it comes to tragedy on the stage, Edwin Thomas was in a selected group.
When it came to tragedy in life, the same could be said as well.
Edwin had two brothers, John and Junius. Both were actors, although neither rose to his statues. In 1863, the three siblings united their talents to perform Julius Caesar. The fact that Edwin’s brother John took the role of Brutus was an eerie harbinger of what awaited the brothers – and the nation – two year hence.
For this John who played the assassin in Julius Caesar is the same John who took the role of assassin in Ford’s Theatre. On a crisp April night in 1865, he stole quietly into the rear of a box in the Washington theatre and fired a bullet at the head of Abraham Lincoln. Yes, the last name of the brothers was Booth – Edwin Thomas Booth and John Wilkes Booth.
Edwin was never the same after that night. Shame from his brother’s crime drove him into retirement. He might never have returned to the stage had it not been for a twist of fate at a New Jersey train station. Edwin was awaiting his coach when a well-dressed young man, pressed by the crowd, lost his footing and fell between the platform and a moving train. Without hesitation, Edwin locked a leg around a railing, grabbed the man, and pulled him to safety. After the sighs of relief, the young man recognized the famous Edwin Booth.
Edwin, however, didn’t recognize the young man he’d rescued. That knowledge came weeks later in a letter, a letter he carried in his pocket to the grave. A letter from General Adams Budeau, chief secretary to General Ulysses S. Grant. A letter thanking Edwin Booth for saving the life of the child of an American hero, Abraham Lincoln. How ironic that while one brother killed the president, the other brother saved the president’s son. The boy Edwin Booth yanked to safety? Robert Todd Lincoln.
Edwin and John Booth. Same father, mother, profession, and passion – yet one chooses life, the other, death. How could it happen? I don’t know, but it does. Though their story is dramatic, it’s not unique.
Abel and Cain, both sons of Adam. Abel chooses God. Cain chooses murder. And God lets him.
Abraham and Lot, both pilgrims in Canaan. Abraham chooses God. Lot chooses Sodom. And God lets him.
David and Saul, both kings of Israel. David chooses God. Saul chooses power. And God lets him.
Peter and Judas, both deny their Lord. Peter seeks mercy. Judas seeks death. And God lets him.
In every age of history, on every page of Scripture, the truth is revealed: God allows us to make our own choices.
And no one delineates this more clearly than Jesus. According to Him, we can choose:
A narrow gate or a wide gate (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
A narrow road or a wide road (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
The big crowd or the small crowd (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
We can choose to:
Build on rock or sand (Matt 7: 24 – 17)
Serve God or riches (Matt 6: 24)
Be numbered among the sheep or the goats (Matt 25: 32 – 33)
“Then they (those who rejected God) will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life” (Matt 25: 46 NIV).
God gives eternal choices, and the choices have eternal consequences.
Isn’t this the reminder of Calvary’s trio? Ever wonder why there were two crosses next to Christ? Why not six or ten? Ever wonder why Jesus was in the center? Why not on the far right or far left? Could it be that the two crosses on the hill symbolize one of God’s greatest gifts? The gift of choice.
The two criminals have so much in common. Convicted by the same system. Condemned to the same death. Surrounded by the same crowd. Equally close to the same Jesus. In fact, they begin with the same sarcasm: “The two criminals also said cruel things to Jesus” (Matt 27: 44 CEV).
But one changed.
One of the criminals on a cross began to shout insults at Jesus: “Aren’t you the Christ? Then save yourself and us.” But the other criminal stopped him and said, “You should fear God! You are getting the same punishment He is. We are punished justly, getting what we deserve for what we did. But this Man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” Jesus said to him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23: 39 -43).
Much has been said about the prayer of the penitent thief, and it certainly warrants our admiration. But while we rejoice at the thief who changed, dare we forget the one who didn’t? What about him, Jesus? Wouldn’t a personal invitation be appropriate? Wouldn’t a word of persuasion be timely?
Does not the shepherd leave the ninety-nine sheep and pursue the lost? Does not the housewife sweep the house until the lost coin is found? Yes, the shepherd does, the housewife does, but the father of the prodigal, remember, does nothing.
The sheep was lost innocently.
The coin was lost irresponsibly.
But the prodigal son left intentionally.
The father gave him the choice. Jesus gave both criminals the same.
There are times when God sends thunder to stir us. There are times when God sends blessing to lure us. But then there are times when God sends nothing but silence as he honors us the freedom to choose where we spend eternity.
And what an honor it is! In so many areas of life we have no choice. Think about it. You didn’t choose your gender. You didn’t choose your siblings. You didn’t choose your race or place of birth.
Sometimes, our lack of choices angers us. “It’s not fair,” we say. It’s not fair that I was born in poverty or that I sing so poorly or that I run so slowly. But the scales of life were forever tipped on the side of fairness when God planted a tree in the Garden of Eden. All complaints were silenced when Adam and his descendants were given free will, the freedom to make whatever eternal choice we desire. Any injustice in this life is offset by the honor or choosing our destiny in the next.
Wouldn’t you agree? Would you have wanted otherwise? Would you have preferred the opposite? You choose everything in this life, and He chooses where you spend the next? You chose the size of your nose, the colour of your hair, and your DNA structure, and He chooses where you spend eternity? Is that what you would prefer?
It would have been nice if God had let us order life like we order a meal. I’ll take good health and a high IQ. I’ll pass on the music skills, but give me a fast metabolism… Would’ve been nice. But it didn’t happen. When it came to your life on earth, you weren’t given a voice or a vote.
But when it comes to life after death, you were. In my book that seems like a good deal. Wouldn’t you agree?
Had we been given any greater privilege than that of choice? Not only does this privilege offset any injustice, the gift of free will can offset any mistakes.
Think about the thief who repented. Though we know little about him, we know this: He made some bad mistakes in life. He chose the wrong crowd, the wrong morals, the wrong behavior. But would you consider his life a waste? Is he spending eternity reaping the fruit of all the bad choices he made? No, just the opposite. He is enjoying the fruit of the one good choice he made. In the end all his bad choices were redeemed by a solitary good one.
You’ve made some bad choices in life, haven’t you? You’ve chosen the wrong friends, maybe the wrong career, even the wrong spouse. You look back over your life and say, “If only… If only I could make up for those bad choices.” You can. One good choice for eternity offsets a thousand bad ones on earth.
The choice is yours.
How can two brothers be born of the same mother, grow up in the same home, and one choose life and the other choose death? I don’t know, but they do.
How could two men see the same Jesus and one choose to mock him and the other choose to pray to him? I don’t know, but they did.
And when one prayed, Jesus loved him enough to save him. And when the other mocked, Jesus loved him enough to let him.
He allowed him the choice.
He does the same for you.
Cast of Characters; Common People in the Hands of an Uncommon God. Max Lucado.
_____________________________________________________________
I like reading books such as this. Easy-going. Easy to digest. Light. Nice. Factual. Revelational. With a nice, little, summarized "Lesson of the Day" to pack home with. The very thing I hate in books is: Step 1, do this. Step 2, do that. Step 3, do somemore. Step 4, do once more. Step 5, do again. Step 6, do it this way. Step 7, do it that way. Step 8... Step 9... I think it's silly and redundant. Everyone works - and is wired - differently. What works for you may not necessarily work for me. And, in my opinion, life and success is more than a bunch of formulas.
Recently purchased this book - Cast of Characters - by Max Lucado. Now, I've always enjoyed books by this brilliant writer. But, as of now, I can't remember what is the exact reason that drove me to make this particular book - out of so many other Lucado books on the shelves - mine. I remember being impressed by a couple of the chapters. Which ones exactly, I can't recall now.
Anyway, I am still in the midst of completing this book (I bought A Gentle Thunder by Max Lucado, too! Can't wait to finish this and get started on that!). Due to busy school and personal commitments, I have been setting the pace at one chapter a day. A few nights ago, I was reading this particular chapter: "I Will Let You Choose". It sort of blew me away.
It has never occurred to me about the Calvary's trio. It has never occurred to me why is Christ right in the center, between the two criminals. It has never occurred to me that both criminals started out with the exact nasty sarcasm, and that one of them changed towards the end. Also, it has never occurred to me why did Jesus not say a word of encouragement to the unrepentant thief. Jesus was "dying", as so was the thief. Surely, isn't it the natural reaction to try to save as many as possible? Strangely, though, it has never occurred to me why did Jesus not do so.
Most importantly, what really blew me off is that it has never occurred to me why did the father of the prodigal son left him to be; while the shepherd and the housewife searched high and low for what is lost. How could I have missed this glaring difference in attitude? It is so glaringly obvious! The shepherd searched, the housewife swept; but the father of the prodigal son did nothing.
I pondered for a bit before deciding to post this up. Fact is, my heart skipped a beat when I came to the paragraph, "Sometimes, our lack of choices angers us." I can understand this sentence all too well. Memories, memories. But it's nice; remembering the person who and how I once was, and the person whom I am now. I've not gone very far, not yet; but at the very least, there is some moving forward.
Admittedly, the main reason for the departure, apart from discouragement and disappointment, is anger itself. Angry at the recurring disappointments. Angry at circumstances. Angry for the lack of choices. Angry at not being given a voice or a vote for my own life and circumstances. Angry at having decisions made for me while I was still forming in the womb. Angry. It's just unfair.
When I decided to come back (well, I didn't really decide. It just happened subtly and gradually), one of the personal resolves is not to ask "why". I've learned it through the hard way - "why" questions get nobody anywhere. It is destructive. It just makes people build up frustration and anger.
Ok,once in a while ever so occasionally, I'll still ask people "why". It's just something inside; the mouth just blurts it out automatically. "Why did you do that?". "What made you say that?", "Why do you think that way?", "Why can't this way be done?", "Why this way and not that way?", "Why? I don't understand. Pray teach me.", "Why are you angry?", "Why can't it be done this way?", "Why this?", "Why not that?", "Why here?", "Why not there?", "Why later?", "Why not now?", "Why not?", "Why? Why? Why?". Sometimes, I still ask "why" when it's not the time to ask "why" (yes, I'm pretty dense and slow on the uptake at times). Sometimes, I still drive everyone up the wall with all the "whys". I clarify, I'm not trying to be irritating. That's only because I seek to understand. But, one thing I refrain my heart from doing; is to ask Him "why".
I don't know, but I personally find that He doesn't like such questions very much. For one, I've never had Him answering to my "whys". Not even once. And, hate though to admit it, I like it better this way; albeit it's a painful process. The rewards are better. It's like... Ploughing through despite and in spite of everything, and getting an answer at the end of everything. The satisfaction; the joy. I don't know about the future, heck! I can't even change what happened 5minutes ago. But for now, I can safely say I don't ever want to ask Him "why".
The Israelites saw Goliath and said: "He is so big, we cannot win."
David saw Goliath and said: "He is so big, I cannot miss."
Think positive. Believe.
“I can't do it" never yet accomplished anything. "I will try" has accomplished wonders.
When it came to tragedy in life, the same could be said as well.
Edwin had two brothers, John and Junius. Both were actors, although neither rose to his statues. In 1863, the three siblings united their talents to perform Julius Caesar. The fact that Edwin’s brother John took the role of Brutus was an eerie harbinger of what awaited the brothers – and the nation – two year hence.
For this John who played the assassin in Julius Caesar is the same John who took the role of assassin in Ford’s Theatre. On a crisp April night in 1865, he stole quietly into the rear of a box in the Washington theatre and fired a bullet at the head of Abraham Lincoln. Yes, the last name of the brothers was Booth – Edwin Thomas Booth and John Wilkes Booth.
Edwin was never the same after that night. Shame from his brother’s crime drove him into retirement. He might never have returned to the stage had it not been for a twist of fate at a New Jersey train station. Edwin was awaiting his coach when a well-dressed young man, pressed by the crowd, lost his footing and fell between the platform and a moving train. Without hesitation, Edwin locked a leg around a railing, grabbed the man, and pulled him to safety. After the sighs of relief, the young man recognized the famous Edwin Booth.
Edwin, however, didn’t recognize the young man he’d rescued. That knowledge came weeks later in a letter, a letter he carried in his pocket to the grave. A letter from General Adams Budeau, chief secretary to General Ulysses S. Grant. A letter thanking Edwin Booth for saving the life of the child of an American hero, Abraham Lincoln. How ironic that while one brother killed the president, the other brother saved the president’s son. The boy Edwin Booth yanked to safety? Robert Todd Lincoln.
Edwin and John Booth. Same father, mother, profession, and passion – yet one chooses life, the other, death. How could it happen? I don’t know, but it does. Though their story is dramatic, it’s not unique.
Abel and Cain, both sons of Adam. Abel chooses God. Cain chooses murder. And God lets him.
Abraham and Lot, both pilgrims in Canaan. Abraham chooses God. Lot chooses Sodom. And God lets him.
David and Saul, both kings of Israel. David chooses God. Saul chooses power. And God lets him.
Peter and Judas, both deny their Lord. Peter seeks mercy. Judas seeks death. And God lets him.
In every age of history, on every page of Scripture, the truth is revealed: God allows us to make our own choices.
And no one delineates this more clearly than Jesus. According to Him, we can choose:
A narrow gate or a wide gate (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
A narrow road or a wide road (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
The big crowd or the small crowd (Matt 7: 13 – 14)
We can choose to:
Build on rock or sand (Matt 7: 24 – 17)
Serve God or riches (Matt 6: 24)
Be numbered among the sheep or the goats (Matt 25: 32 – 33)
“Then they (those who rejected God) will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life” (Matt 25: 46 NIV).
God gives eternal choices, and the choices have eternal consequences.
Isn’t this the reminder of Calvary’s trio? Ever wonder why there were two crosses next to Christ? Why not six or ten? Ever wonder why Jesus was in the center? Why not on the far right or far left? Could it be that the two crosses on the hill symbolize one of God’s greatest gifts? The gift of choice.
The two criminals have so much in common. Convicted by the same system. Condemned to the same death. Surrounded by the same crowd. Equally close to the same Jesus. In fact, they begin with the same sarcasm: “The two criminals also said cruel things to Jesus” (Matt 27: 44 CEV).
But one changed.
One of the criminals on a cross began to shout insults at Jesus: “Aren’t you the Christ? Then save yourself and us.” But the other criminal stopped him and said, “You should fear God! You are getting the same punishment He is. We are punished justly, getting what we deserve for what we did. But this Man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” Jesus said to him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23: 39 -43).
Much has been said about the prayer of the penitent thief, and it certainly warrants our admiration. But while we rejoice at the thief who changed, dare we forget the one who didn’t? What about him, Jesus? Wouldn’t a personal invitation be appropriate? Wouldn’t a word of persuasion be timely?
Does not the shepherd leave the ninety-nine sheep and pursue the lost? Does not the housewife sweep the house until the lost coin is found? Yes, the shepherd does, the housewife does, but the father of the prodigal, remember, does nothing.
The sheep was lost innocently.
The coin was lost irresponsibly.
But the prodigal son left intentionally.
The father gave him the choice. Jesus gave both criminals the same.
There are times when God sends thunder to stir us. There are times when God sends blessing to lure us. But then there are times when God sends nothing but silence as he honors us the freedom to choose where we spend eternity.
And what an honor it is! In so many areas of life we have no choice. Think about it. You didn’t choose your gender. You didn’t choose your siblings. You didn’t choose your race or place of birth.
Sometimes, our lack of choices angers us. “It’s not fair,” we say. It’s not fair that I was born in poverty or that I sing so poorly or that I run so slowly. But the scales of life were forever tipped on the side of fairness when God planted a tree in the Garden of Eden. All complaints were silenced when Adam and his descendants were given free will, the freedom to make whatever eternal choice we desire. Any injustice in this life is offset by the honor or choosing our destiny in the next.
Wouldn’t you agree? Would you have wanted otherwise? Would you have preferred the opposite? You choose everything in this life, and He chooses where you spend the next? You chose the size of your nose, the colour of your hair, and your DNA structure, and He chooses where you spend eternity? Is that what you would prefer?
It would have been nice if God had let us order life like we order a meal. I’ll take good health and a high IQ. I’ll pass on the music skills, but give me a fast metabolism… Would’ve been nice. But it didn’t happen. When it came to your life on earth, you weren’t given a voice or a vote.
But when it comes to life after death, you were. In my book that seems like a good deal. Wouldn’t you agree?
Had we been given any greater privilege than that of choice? Not only does this privilege offset any injustice, the gift of free will can offset any mistakes.
Think about the thief who repented. Though we know little about him, we know this: He made some bad mistakes in life. He chose the wrong crowd, the wrong morals, the wrong behavior. But would you consider his life a waste? Is he spending eternity reaping the fruit of all the bad choices he made? No, just the opposite. He is enjoying the fruit of the one good choice he made. In the end all his bad choices were redeemed by a solitary good one.
You’ve made some bad choices in life, haven’t you? You’ve chosen the wrong friends, maybe the wrong career, even the wrong spouse. You look back over your life and say, “If only… If only I could make up for those bad choices.” You can. One good choice for eternity offsets a thousand bad ones on earth.
The choice is yours.
How can two brothers be born of the same mother, grow up in the same home, and one choose life and the other choose death? I don’t know, but they do.
How could two men see the same Jesus and one choose to mock him and the other choose to pray to him? I don’t know, but they did.
And when one prayed, Jesus loved him enough to save him. And when the other mocked, Jesus loved him enough to let him.
He allowed him the choice.
He does the same for you.
Cast of Characters; Common People in the Hands of an Uncommon God. Max Lucado.
_____________________________________________________________
I like reading books such as this. Easy-going. Easy to digest. Light. Nice. Factual. Revelational. With a nice, little, summarized "Lesson of the Day" to pack home with. The very thing I hate in books is: Step 1, do this. Step 2, do that. Step 3, do somemore. Step 4, do once more. Step 5, do again. Step 6, do it this way. Step 7, do it that way. Step 8... Step 9... I think it's silly and redundant. Everyone works - and is wired - differently. What works for you may not necessarily work for me. And, in my opinion, life and success is more than a bunch of formulas.
Recently purchased this book - Cast of Characters - by Max Lucado. Now, I've always enjoyed books by this brilliant writer. But, as of now, I can't remember what is the exact reason that drove me to make this particular book - out of so many other Lucado books on the shelves - mine. I remember being impressed by a couple of the chapters. Which ones exactly, I can't recall now.
Anyway, I am still in the midst of completing this book (I bought A Gentle Thunder by Max Lucado, too! Can't wait to finish this and get started on that!). Due to busy school and personal commitments, I have been setting the pace at one chapter a day. A few nights ago, I was reading this particular chapter: "I Will Let You Choose". It sort of blew me away.
It has never occurred to me about the Calvary's trio. It has never occurred to me why is Christ right in the center, between the two criminals. It has never occurred to me that both criminals started out with the exact nasty sarcasm, and that one of them changed towards the end. Also, it has never occurred to me why did Jesus not say a word of encouragement to the unrepentant thief. Jesus was "dying", as so was the thief. Surely, isn't it the natural reaction to try to save as many as possible? Strangely, though, it has never occurred to me why did Jesus not do so.
Most importantly, what really blew me off is that it has never occurred to me why did the father of the prodigal son left him to be; while the shepherd and the housewife searched high and low for what is lost. How could I have missed this glaring difference in attitude? It is so glaringly obvious! The shepherd searched, the housewife swept; but the father of the prodigal son did nothing.
I pondered for a bit before deciding to post this up. Fact is, my heart skipped a beat when I came to the paragraph, "Sometimes, our lack of choices angers us." I can understand this sentence all too well. Memories, memories. But it's nice; remembering the person who and how I once was, and the person whom I am now. I've not gone very far, not yet; but at the very least, there is some moving forward.
Admittedly, the main reason for the departure, apart from discouragement and disappointment, is anger itself. Angry at the recurring disappointments. Angry at circumstances. Angry for the lack of choices. Angry at not being given a voice or a vote for my own life and circumstances. Angry at having decisions made for me while I was still forming in the womb. Angry. It's just unfair.
When I decided to come back (well, I didn't really decide. It just happened subtly and gradually), one of the personal resolves is not to ask "why". I've learned it through the hard way - "why" questions get nobody anywhere. It is destructive. It just makes people build up frustration and anger.
Ok,
I don't know, but I personally find that He doesn't like such questions very much. For one, I've never had Him answering to my "whys". Not even once. And, hate though to admit it, I like it better this way; albeit it's a painful process. The rewards are better. It's like... Ploughing through despite and in spite of everything, and getting an answer at the end of everything. The satisfaction; the joy. I don't know about the future, heck! I can't even change what happened 5minutes ago. But for now, I can safely say I don't ever want to ask Him "why".
The Israelites saw Goliath and said: "He is so big, we cannot win."
David saw Goliath and said: "He is so big, I cannot miss."
Think positive. Believe.
“I can't do it" never yet accomplished anything. "I will try" has accomplished wonders.
Monday, 16 March 2009
KLUTZ
Today is a clumsy day. This morning, on my way to campus, I unexpectedly tripped. Scrapped the knees. Twisted the right foot. Thank goodness it's not serious. Walking is, thankfully, still not a problem. It hurts only when I walk fast, or when I attempt to rotate the foot in a circular motion.
After lesson, I went to JP. And because my mind was focused on reading an SMS, I nearly walked right into the glass door entrance. Oh my goodness! It was such a close shave! All it takes is just one more step, and PIONK! I'll slam right into it like a flattened pancake.
_____________________________________________________________
Sometimes, I'm still amazed at how easily I can tear over trivial things. It can be so trivial that it feels downright silly and embarrassing. It's like, thinking to myself, "Hey, girl! Why - and how on earth - do you cry over something this trivial? You're so silly!" It's like... Having the audacity to poke a sleeping dragon in the eye; but yet, silly enough to cry quietly and foolishly over a broken toenail. Ironic!
Oh well, oh well. Sometimes, even I can surprise myself.
I guess, it makes one more aware of our own weaknesses. Despite living for so long, I still dare not declare I know myself upside down and inside out. It makes me feel humbled, like, you know, hey girl! What do you know, honestly? You're not spot-on 100% of the time! You're not as right - or as perfect -as you think, babe!
It really always put everything back into perspective; as though a kind reminder that we're nothing but of mere dust. It makes me feel small. I feel great, but yet, small at the same time. Sometimes, it feels like it is possible to overcome anything and everything; but yet, in the face of the universe, I am sooo puny. Like dust. A flower quickly fading; here again and gone tomorrow. A wave tossed in the ocean; vapour in the wind.
I guess, that's why it's so important to have sounding board(s) in our life.
_______________________________________________________________
There's a Bonanza Food Paradise fair in Boon Lay bus interchange. It's been there since ages ago. Oh crap, for the past month, I've been eating Taiwan Sausage like a starved lioness pouncing on a herd of shepherd-less sheep. Like a wide-eyed kid shopping in a candy store with Santa Old Man. I am such a glutton (oink oink)! On average, I can have up to 6 sticks in a week! Thank goodness I don't personally know any cardiologists!
I wonder if the herbal teas would offset any bad effects of the fatty, oily, cholesterol-ladden Taiwan Sausages. I had a bottle of Ginseng Chrysanthemum tea today, and 2 sticks of Taiwan Sausage. Hmmm...
After lesson, I went to JP. And because my mind was focused on reading an SMS, I nearly walked right into the glass door entrance. Oh my goodness! It was such a close shave! All it takes is just one more step, and PIONK! I'll slam right into it like a flattened pancake.
_____________________________________________________________
Sometimes, I'm still amazed at how easily I can tear over trivial things. It can be so trivial that it feels downright silly and embarrassing. It's like, thinking to myself, "Hey, girl! Why - and how on earth - do you cry over something this trivial? You're so silly!" It's like... Having the audacity to poke a sleeping dragon in the eye; but yet, silly enough to cry quietly and foolishly over a broken toenail. Ironic!
Oh well, oh well. Sometimes, even I can surprise myself.
I guess, it makes one more aware of our own weaknesses. Despite living for so long, I still dare not declare I know myself upside down and inside out. It makes me feel humbled, like, you know, hey girl! What do you know, honestly? You're not spot-on 100% of the time! You're not as right - or as perfect -as you think, babe!
It really always put everything back into perspective; as though a kind reminder that we're nothing but of mere dust. It makes me feel small. I feel great, but yet, small at the same time. Sometimes, it feels like it is possible to overcome anything and everything; but yet, in the face of the universe, I am sooo puny. Like dust. A flower quickly fading; here again and gone tomorrow. A wave tossed in the ocean; vapour in the wind.
I guess, that's why it's so important to have sounding board(s) in our life.
_______________________________________________________________
There's a Bonanza Food Paradise fair in Boon Lay bus interchange. It's been there since ages ago. Oh crap, for the past month, I've been eating Taiwan Sausage like a starved lioness pouncing on a herd of shepherd-less sheep. Like a wide-eyed kid shopping in a candy store with Santa Old Man. I am such a glutton (oink oink)! On average, I can have up to 6 sticks in a week! Thank goodness I don't personally know any cardiologists!
I wonder if the herbal teas would offset any bad effects of the fatty, oily, cholesterol-ladden Taiwan Sausages. I had a bottle of Ginseng Chrysanthemum tea today, and 2 sticks of Taiwan Sausage. Hmmm...
Sunday, 15 March 2009
INVESTMENT
Just logged on to the Portal. Guess what? I'm sooo THRILLED! Reader's Digest is offering a special on subscriptions for all STs! The special offers are oh-so-mightily tempting!
Reader's Digest has all along been my all-time favourite. I've loved it ever since upper primary school days! Reader's Digest is a good investment for sure. I love the inspiring stories. I love the courage of the unsung heros of everyday life. I love their style of writing. I love the dictionary section. I love the jokes and humour. In short, I adore and devour everything when it comes to this brillant magazine!
I don't know. The offers are just so sorely tempting! But, you know, money don't come easy. I think there's something vastly different: money that is obtained through scrimping and saving, verses money that is obtained from monthly salary. At the very least, the latter is what you exchange - and trade in for - using precious time. Thus, it brings along with it a certain sense of personal responsibility and accountability.
Oh, well, guess I'll just sit around for days and ponder over whether to sign up for the subscription.
Reader's Digest! Oh my goodness! Somebody, pinch me!
Reader's Digest has all along been my all-time favourite. I've loved it ever since upper primary school days! Reader's Digest is a good investment for sure. I love the inspiring stories. I love the courage of the unsung heros of everyday life. I love their style of writing. I love the dictionary section. I love the jokes and humour. In short, I adore and devour everything when it comes to this brillant magazine!
I don't know. The offers are just so sorely tempting! But, you know, money don't come easy. I think there's something vastly different: money that is obtained through scrimping and saving, verses money that is obtained from monthly salary. At the very least, the latter is what you exchange - and trade in for - using precious time. Thus, it brings along with it a certain sense of personal responsibility and accountability.
Oh, well, guess I'll just sit around for days and ponder over whether to sign up for the subscription.
Reader's Digest! Oh my goodness! Somebody, pinch me!
THINK, BEFORE YOU THINK
Logged on to Facebook late last night. Normally, I'll log on just to check the notifications, glance through News Feed, and accept or reject any friends request or games invitation or groups invitation. Then I'll be out. Pronto.
Late last night, however, I went to the Profile page and clicked on the Boxes tab. I only go there once in a while, and I seldom refresh anything. Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. The very first thing that my eyes so happened to fall on that night is precisely something that I've never even refreshed once. Yes, not even once.
Philippians 4:8.
We ourselves are the most influential critics over our own life. It's not just what others say - that's external. It's what we think - it is internal.
If we think about something enough, we'll soon start to believe in it.
Therefore, think; before you think anything.
Time to do the assignments! I've yet to get started!
Late last night, however, I went to the Profile page and clicked on the Boxes tab. I only go there once in a while, and I seldom refresh anything. Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. The very first thing that my eyes so happened to fall on that night is precisely something that I've never even refreshed once. Yes, not even once.
Philippians 4:8.
We ourselves are the most influential critics over our own life. It's not just what others say - that's external. It's what we think - it is internal.
If we think about something enough, we'll soon start to believe in it.
Therefore, think; before you think anything.
Time to do the assignments! I've yet to get started!
Friday, 13 March 2009
THERAPEUTIC
I really think the Rubik's Cube is really therapeutic. Perhaps a more apt description would be "distraction"; but gosh, it is a real therapeutic one. To me, at least. It captures the attention, and take the mind off the frenzy. When a million things are buzzing around noisily inside the skull, and good emotions mix dangerously with bad ones, when doubt challenges faith, when hurt threatens to puncture happiness and joy, and when it's not convenient to have some quiet time, the Rubik comes in handy.
Maybe it's just the systematic way of solving the Rubik that's at work. It gives a sense of orderliness. Assuring. Making sense out of a random frenzy. Taking control.
Your joy, my strength.
Just as the song goes: all of my life, in every season; I have a reason to sing, to worship.
Maybe it's just the systematic way of solving the Rubik that's at work. It gives a sense of orderliness. Assuring. Making sense out of a random frenzy. Taking control.
Your joy, my strength.
Just as the song goes: all of my life, in every season; I have a reason to sing, to worship.
Thursday, 12 March 2009
DIFFERENT SEASON, DIFFERENT HEARING
DIFFERENT SEASON, DIFFERENT HEARING
Yesterday (Wednesday) morning at 9am, I had the 3rd follow-up consultation review with the Doc. Doc says there's nothing to worry much, and that the eyes are recovering well; albeit my right eye is a little dry. Opps! My bad. After 3 weeks of medical compliance, I'm beginning to slack and have been laying off the eye lubricants for days. Uh-huh...
After consultation ended at 9.30am, I headed down for the first lecture at 11.30am. Popped by the herbal tea shop at JP, and purchased a bottle of American Ginseng. Of the last couple of weeks, I'm drunk in herbal teas. American Ginseng. Honey with Aloe Vera. Ginseng Chrysanthemum Tea. Jin Yin Hua Tea. You name it; probably I've tried it!
__________________________________________________________
I like to look at clouds. Sometimes, in the train, I'll lean back on the backrest, and peer out of the opposite aisle of windows. It's really interesting. Sometimes, the clouds make no sense. Over time, though, as seconds or minutes pass by, a picture begins to form gradually. More than once, I've spotted a GIGANTIC drumstick. This drumstick feels like an ubiquitous old friend, popping by cheekily once in a while to say "hello!".
On Monday morning, while on the way to campus, I was doing the same thing again; wondering what would I see today. The good, old drumstick?
I looked. And saw. A camel farting happily. With much gusto. WOW!
Yesterday (Wednesday) morning at 9am, I had the 3rd follow-up consultation review with the Doc. Doc says there's nothing to worry much, and that the eyes are recovering well; albeit my right eye is a little dry. Opps! My bad. After 3 weeks of medical compliance, I'm beginning to slack and have been laying off the eye lubricants for days. Uh-huh...
After consultation ended at 9.30am, I headed down for the first lecture at 11.30am. Popped by the herbal tea shop at JP, and purchased a bottle of American Ginseng. Of the last couple of weeks, I'm drunk in herbal teas. American Ginseng. Honey with Aloe Vera. Ginseng Chrysanthemum Tea. Jin Yin Hua Tea. You name it; probably I've tried it!
__________________________________________________________
I like to look at clouds. Sometimes, in the train, I'll lean back on the backrest, and peer out of the opposite aisle of windows. It's really interesting. Sometimes, the clouds make no sense. Over time, though, as seconds or minutes pass by, a picture begins to form gradually. More than once, I've spotted a GIGANTIC drumstick. This drumstick feels like an ubiquitous old friend, popping by cheekily once in a while to say "hello!".
On Monday morning, while on the way to campus, I was doing the same thing again; wondering what would I see today. The good, old drumstick?
I looked. And saw. A camel farting happily. With much gusto. WOW!
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
ACHE
ACHE
This morning, I woke up with muscle aches in the calves. But I've not been doing any form of exercising lately, ever since LASIK! However, even now in the afternoon, the calves still hurt as badly. This is so strange!
This morning, I woke up with muscle aches in the calves. But I've not been doing any form of exercising lately, ever since LASIK! However, even now in the afternoon, the calves still hurt as badly. This is so strange!
Monday, 9 March 2009
XIAN REN ZHANG II
XIAN REN ZHANG II
Finally, the comb reappeared last night. Finally. About time. It has never gone on a disappearing act for so many days.
Anyway, Cacti doesn't seem to be growing. I wonder if it's because of the rainy monsoon. My Cacti needs the sun! Rather than growing taller or stronger, Cacti seems to have shrunk instead.
Perhaps it's not solely because of the wet weather. The fault lies with me too, perhaps. Honestly, I can't remember when is the last time I gave it even a drop of water (hey! It's the monsoon, what! Right?).
Admittedly, the care and love and concern I shower on Cacti have dwindled a dreadful lot. During the initial couple of weeks, I would sing to Cacti as and when I felt like it. Sometimes, it would be Heart of Worship. Other times, it would be Somewhere Over the Rainbow. During those days, while practicing the guitar, at times I would place Cacti directly in front of me and play some music to it (no, it didn't immediately wilt and shrivel up and die, you prat). Now? I hardly even cast it a second glance.
And, yes, if there is one thing that Cacti is in dire need of, it is some long-overdue nutrient. I've already read up on it (errr... Since 2months ago?). The usual, recommended practice is to re-pot any newly-purchased plant. This is because, usually, after being left on the shelf for so long, the plant has long used up the existing nutrients in the current soil. Yeah! Perhaps I'll do so over this coming weekend. That is, if I don't procrastinate my way out of this already! Ermmm... Hoho!
There's just this thing about cactus. It is almost like a paradox. They're pretty, yet have a crude, defensive mechanism to protect itself. They look delicate, but are actually so unexpectedly resilient and strong. They are such a character to reckon with!
There is just something about cactus that just sets it apart from other plants. I don't know. Maybe, for most plants to bud or to look good, they need a lot of care and attention. Cactus, however, can still bud and look good even when given no - or minimal - care and attention.
There is just something about cactus that leaves me in awe and respect. I don't know. Self-efficacy? I find it totally amazing, how cactus can still bloom so beautifully under a set of limiting conditions which other, less resilient plants would - most probably - not be able to even survive in. I simply admire the way how cactus are able to make full and - most importantly - optimal use of whatever is available to them. If only cactus are human, no doubt they would be wise, highly-efficient, highly-competent, and strong ones.
Finally, the comb reappeared last night. Finally. About time. It has never gone on a disappearing act for so many days.
Anyway, Cacti doesn't seem to be growing. I wonder if it's because of the rainy monsoon. My Cacti needs the sun! Rather than growing taller or stronger, Cacti seems to have shrunk instead.
Perhaps it's not solely because of the wet weather. The fault lies with me too, perhaps. Honestly, I can't remember when is the last time I gave it even a drop of water (hey! It's the monsoon, what! Right?).
Admittedly, the care and love and concern I shower on Cacti have dwindled a dreadful lot. During the initial couple of weeks, I would sing to Cacti as and when I felt like it. Sometimes, it would be Heart of Worship. Other times, it would be Somewhere Over the Rainbow. During those days, while practicing the guitar, at times I would place Cacti directly in front of me and play some music to it (no, it didn't immediately wilt and shrivel up and die, you prat). Now? I hardly even cast it a second glance.
And, yes, if there is one thing that Cacti is in dire need of, it is some long-overdue nutrient. I've already read up on it (errr... Since 2months ago?). The usual, recommended practice is to re-pot any newly-purchased plant. This is because, usually, after being left on the shelf for so long, the plant has long used up the existing nutrients in the current soil. Yeah! Perhaps I'll do so over this coming weekend. That is, if I don't procrastinate my way out of this already! Ermmm... Hoho!
There's just this thing about cactus. It is almost like a paradox. They're pretty, yet have a crude, defensive mechanism to protect itself. They look delicate, but are actually so unexpectedly resilient and strong. They are such a character to reckon with!
There is just something about cactus that just sets it apart from other plants. I don't know. Maybe, for most plants to bud or to look good, they need a lot of care and attention. Cactus, however, can still bud and look good even when given no - or minimal - care and attention.
There is just something about cactus that leaves me in awe and respect. I don't know. Self-efficacy? I find it totally amazing, how cactus can still bloom so beautifully under a set of limiting conditions which other, less resilient plants would - most probably - not be able to even survive in. I simply admire the way how cactus are able to make full and - most importantly - optimal use of whatever is available to them. If only cactus are human, no doubt they would be wise, highly-efficient, highly-competent, and strong ones.
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
FOREVER
FOREVER
It's funny.
I seldom lose my wallet or mobile phone or pens, or keys, even.
But it seems like I'm forever misplacing my comb.
Now, where has it gone to, AGAIN? Hmmm...
____________________________________________________
Impartation session tomorrow!
Good news? The barre chord is improving! Bit by bit. Slowly but surely.
Music is more than being music. Music is more than chords and tones and melodies and rhythm and beat. Above all else, it involves the heart. Music should help to draw down Your presence.
___________________________________________________
I think, if one refuses to pick oneself up, there's nothing anyone else can do. Don't expect mollycoddling. How can others keep helping when one does't even try hard at helping oneself? Everybody has his/her own responsibility for his/her own life. No one is responsible for another's. Everybody has to account in this aspect. Take ownership. Rise above circumstances.
I'm happy, because I choose to; because this is the day You have made; because we are literally better off today than yesterday.
It may be easy to look for a thousand and one things to mop over and feel discouraged. It is so easy to live by feelings. I may not understand it all, or may doubt once in a while; but, for sure, You waste nothing. At the end of every stumbling, every obstacle, every knock, I learn something. I'm progressively changed and moulded, subtly; because I'm willing, and - most importantly - because You're good and faithful.
__________________________________________________
I'm unwell. Coughing like anything. Get me some herbal tea! Please!
___________________________________________________
The PE trainees are ALL sooo yummilicious! Unbelievable! AWWW!
It's funny.
I seldom lose my wallet or mobile phone or pens, or keys, even.
But it seems like I'm forever misplacing my comb.
Now, where has it gone to, AGAIN? Hmmm...
____________________________________________________
Impartation session tomorrow!
Good news? The barre chord is improving! Bit by bit. Slowly but surely.
Music is more than being music. Music is more than chords and tones and melodies and rhythm and beat. Above all else, it involves the heart. Music should help to draw down Your presence.
___________________________________________________
I think, if one refuses to pick oneself up, there's nothing anyone else can do. Don't expect mollycoddling. How can others keep helping when one does't even try hard at helping oneself? Everybody has his/her own responsibility for his/her own life. No one is responsible for another's. Everybody has to account in this aspect. Take ownership. Rise above circumstances.
I'm happy, because I choose to; because this is the day You have made; because we are literally better off today than yesterday.
It may be easy to look for a thousand and one things to mop over and feel discouraged. It is so easy to live by feelings. I may not understand it all, or may doubt once in a while; but, for sure, You waste nothing. At the end of every stumbling, every obstacle, every knock, I learn something. I'm progressively changed and moulded, subtly; because I'm willing, and - most importantly - because You're good and faithful.
__________________________________________________
I'm unwell. Coughing like anything. Get me some herbal tea! Please!
___________________________________________________
The PE trainees are ALL sooo yummilicious! Unbelievable! AWWW!
HELL WEEK(S)
HELL WEEK(S)
Monday, I left home at 8.15am, and reached home at 8pm.
Tuesday (yesterday), I left home at 5.30am, and reached home at 8pm.
Today, my last lesson is supposed to end at 5.30pm. This means reaching home at 7.30pm. Thank goodness the lesson was canceled due to e-learning. Thus, I ended at 3.30pm! And now, at 5pm, I'm home! BS later at 7.30pm, though. Thank goodness my schedule on Wednesday and Thursday are slightly more humane.
This is only the first week of the many hell weeks to come; and already, I am so shagged. Yesterday, after lesson, I was so sorely tempted to just take a cab home from Boon Lay. The limbs were limp, the flesh felt weak, the body was alternating between hot and cold, and the eyes could barely open. To make it worse, I was nursing a SLIGHT fever the night before. However, in view of the peak hour jam and financial constrain (yesterday, I bought 3 books totaling more than 80bucks, and paid via Visa. Sometimes, I think I am really smart) and environmental, global warming issues (yeah, right), I took public transport instead. Pay day! Quick quick come!
There's an impartation session with The Master tomorrow as well. I want my health back!
Anyway, since Hell Week(s) has/have started, and after doing a brief calculation, guess what? I'm taking 10 modules! 3 CS1, 3 CS2, Ed Psy 1, Ed Psy 2, ICT, and CST. AND EACH of them has an average of 3 graded assignments (continuous assessment in lieu of final exam)! NOW I know what DanC means when he says it's hell.
Conclusion? Don't say "I'm busy". I'll poke your eyes. And pull your nose.
Man, I can't wait for end of May to arrive! But, perhaps by then, I would have shriveled up, lost 10kgs, and gain 2 massive eyebags the size of oranges!
I really need an electronic organizer.
(UPDATE) Editor's Note: Really fell ill two days later. A raging fever peaking at 39.5oC.
Monday, I left home at 8.15am, and reached home at 8pm.
Tuesday (yesterday), I left home at 5.30am, and reached home at 8pm.
Today, my last lesson is supposed to end at 5.30pm. This means reaching home at 7.30pm. Thank goodness the lesson was canceled due to e-learning. Thus, I ended at 3.30pm! And now, at 5pm, I'm home! BS later at 7.30pm, though. Thank goodness my schedule on Wednesday and Thursday are slightly more humane.
This is only the first week of the many hell weeks to come; and already, I am so shagged. Yesterday, after lesson, I was so sorely tempted to just take a cab home from Boon Lay. The limbs were limp, the flesh felt weak, the body was alternating between hot and cold, and the eyes could barely open. To make it worse, I was nursing a SLIGHT fever the night before. However, in view of the peak hour jam and financial constrain (yesterday, I bought 3 books totaling more than 80bucks, and paid via Visa. Sometimes, I think I am really smart) and environmental, global warming issues (yeah, right), I took public transport instead. Pay day! Quick quick come!
There's an impartation session with The Master tomorrow as well. I want my health back!
Anyway, since Hell Week(s) has/have started, and after doing a brief calculation, guess what? I'm taking 10 modules! 3 CS1, 3 CS2, Ed Psy 1, Ed Psy 2, ICT, and CST. AND EACH of them has an average of 3 graded assignments (continuous assessment in lieu of final exam)! NOW I know what DanC means when he says it's hell.
Conclusion? Don't say "I'm busy". I'll poke your eyes. And pull your nose.
Man, I can't wait for end of May to arrive! But, perhaps by then, I would have shriveled up, lost 10kgs, and gain 2 massive eyebags the size of oranges!
I really need an electronic organizer.
(UPDATE) Editor's Note: Really fell ill two days later. A raging fever peaking at 39.5oC.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
MAJOR
MAJOR
A couple of major things happened in recent days, or weeks.
Relationships may fail, people may fall, trust may get breached. But thank goodness You are not like any of these.
Thank goodness You are good. Thank goodness You are constant. Thank goodness You are the solid rock; the solid foundation.
A couple of major things happened in recent days, or weeks.
Relationships may fail, people may fall, trust may get breached. But thank goodness You are not like any of these.
Thank goodness You are good. Thank goodness You are constant. Thank goodness You are the solid rock; the solid foundation.
Monday, 2 March 2009
THOUGHTS
THOUGHTS
This afternoon at 1.30pm, I was in the library when Dad called. He asked what was I doing, and am I waiting for the next class to commence; to which I replied in the affirmative. Next, he asked whether am I aware of what just happened in NTU this morning; to which, this time round, I gave a blur, "Huh?".
He proceeded to give a brief run-through of what he heard in the news: at 10.30am, a final year student stabbed his lecturer before committing suicide himself.
I was struck dumb. Disbelief. I couldn't digest what I was hearing. It sounds so surreal. Something of this shocking nature happening when I am in the campus? And it's just so near in the vicinity?
We put down the phone moments later. I was still disturbed. 10.30am. What was I doing? Oh yeah, I was basking luxuriously under the cool air-conditioning in Biology Education Laboratory of Block 7, waiting for the first lesson of Teaching of Biology II to commence. At the exact same time, somewhere nearby, a professor just got stabbed and a student in his 20s is about to slit his wrist before jumping off a building.
I left the library at 4.15pm, and headed down for the last lecture at 4.30pm. Halfway through the lesson, the lecturer touched on the topic of how life has changed, and how sometimes, students are handling more things in life than what appear on the surface. We're not just educators, but everything rolled in one. You name it, we do it. To illustrate the point, she proceeded to share this story; how a senior of ours took her own life in the last week of practicum. It shook my lecturer so much; because almost every week, this lady would look up my lecturer and chat with her. And she seemed so normal, so much so that my lecturer didn't even suspect anything!
My lecturer then asked whether have we heard of the latest shocking news in NTU yet. Of course, nearly everybody has. News spread like wildfire, after all. She took this as an example too, asking us to imagine what stress or problems he was facing in his life; so much so that he would do something this drastic. The class fell silent, and the atmosphere, sombre. I tried to imagine, but just simply couldn't.
All of a sudden, I was rudely reminded of what J shared on Friday during Zone Meeting - the near death experiences. The engines in my brain kicked off and roared to life; and I found myself wondering: What was it like in his last moments? Did he feel the pull towards the center of the earth too? Did he hear the blood-chilling screams? At this precise moment, is he being tormented? Enduring pains that no one can ever imagine or understand?
I don't know. The last thought chilled me to the bones. There was this sudden fear, this sudden urgency, this sudden sadness and terrible grief. I don't know. The last thought is just so disturbing.
This afternoon at 1.30pm, I was in the library when Dad called. He asked what was I doing, and am I waiting for the next class to commence; to which I replied in the affirmative. Next, he asked whether am I aware of what just happened in NTU this morning; to which, this time round, I gave a blur, "Huh?".
He proceeded to give a brief run-through of what he heard in the news: at 10.30am, a final year student stabbed his lecturer before committing suicide himself.
I was struck dumb. Disbelief. I couldn't digest what I was hearing. It sounds so surreal. Something of this shocking nature happening when I am in the campus? And it's just so near in the vicinity?
We put down the phone moments later. I was still disturbed. 10.30am. What was I doing? Oh yeah, I was basking luxuriously under the cool air-conditioning in Biology Education Laboratory of Block 7, waiting for the first lesson of Teaching of Biology II to commence. At the exact same time, somewhere nearby, a professor just got stabbed and a student in his 20s is about to slit his wrist before jumping off a building.
I left the library at 4.15pm, and headed down for the last lecture at 4.30pm. Halfway through the lesson, the lecturer touched on the topic of how life has changed, and how sometimes, students are handling more things in life than what appear on the surface. We're not just educators, but everything rolled in one. You name it, we do it. To illustrate the point, she proceeded to share this story; how a senior of ours took her own life in the last week of practicum. It shook my lecturer so much; because almost every week, this lady would look up my lecturer and chat with her. And she seemed so normal, so much so that my lecturer didn't even suspect anything!
My lecturer then asked whether have we heard of the latest shocking news in NTU yet. Of course, nearly everybody has. News spread like wildfire, after all. She took this as an example too, asking us to imagine what stress or problems he was facing in his life; so much so that he would do something this drastic. The class fell silent, and the atmosphere, sombre. I tried to imagine, but just simply couldn't.
All of a sudden, I was rudely reminded of what J shared on Friday during Zone Meeting - the near death experiences. The engines in my brain kicked off and roared to life; and I found myself wondering: What was it like in his last moments? Did he feel the pull towards the center of the earth too? Did he hear the blood-chilling screams? At this precise moment, is he being tormented? Enduring pains that no one can ever imagine or understand?
I don't know. The last thought chilled me to the bones. There was this sudden fear, this sudden urgency, this sudden sadness and terrible grief. I don't know. The last thought is just so disturbing.
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