Sunday, May 04, 2008

Moving, and not

As some of you may already know, I have bought my own domain after much deliberation.
This means, I have already moved to a new site, the address of which is www.myname.com, assuming of course, you knew what my name was.

If you don't, and want to, email me. If you do, and still can't figure out what my new site is, also email me. Or leave a comment.

I have loved writing here for it grants me anonymity, which can't be said for my new site, so I'm not shutting this space down, simply for the fact that sometimes I just need to bitch, good and proper about something, and can do it here with no name attached.

So for all you know, you might still be getting the juiciest bits of writing here. Just that it'll probably not happen very often seeing as how many sites I now have to maintain, with the most important one of all, still in the very-far-back burner.

So till then, it's bye for now!

Saturday, March 01, 2008

3am

It's 3am and my mind is racing.

Sleeping is impossible. After tossing and turning and feeling my heart beat at about 170bpm for the last hour, I decided I was trying in vain.

So I'll write instead. Again, time seems to be flying by and again my life seems to be a whirl of an intangible mess of "things happening".

Looking at my last post, that nye incident seems a lifetime ago.

Let's see: since then, I have been on a 4-week long course that served to recharge me well; written many stories, some significant, others less so, won story of the month; joined a gym for almost 2000 bucks; went to see The Police - who were legendary. Sting is so bloody hot, even at his age, I hope my bf ages the same way; gambled and ate lots at chinese new year; invested lots of my CPF money; bought new shares in the market; and just tonight, finally caught No Country For Old Men.

It was so Coen brothers, if you didn't know theme or their work, the majority of the meaning of the film gets lost. It was also so Fargo - just in the southern states instead of the north. Made me think back of my film studies days, oh how we would all just sit around and dissect the film, sequence by sequence, and analyse all the social satire brimming beneath the strung-together shots. I kinda miss it. Not many would understand, but for those who do, the conversation is something I would have relished so even more.

So between churning some beautifully-shot sequences, and the macabre-ness of it all, it didn't help that my mind's still racing about my upcoming story.

It's been awhile since I felt that excited or emotionally attached to one story, it scares me while at the same time almost titillates me. I remember the last time I felt like that was when I had the news that no one else had back in London and I had got a freelance assignment from The Times to write about it. Although it wasn't in the end a really fair deal for me, because they gave my story to someone else to write the main piece, getting my name in The Times was enough to keep me awake in anticipation for a few nights.

That now seems so long ago, and how far I've come. I think if I could turn back time I would have demanded that I wrote the main story, but hey it's all lessons learnt.

Where I am now, I can't even begin to describe, only that the sense of fulfillment and unfulfillment overwhelms me at the same time. And it's like there's a vast, black, hole - with promises of the future and tasks left undone - that's hovering above, mocking me.

I have such high hopes for this story. For this year. For everything.

I really should be grateful J and I are doing so well. More than a year ago, back in the UK, our lives were inhabiting such an alternate reality: the dosh, the drinks, the work and the people.

Now, we're but a fraction of the way on our journey and the future, unknown but brimming with unimaginable outcomes, seem simultaneously a miracle and a curse.

I can only hope my story turns out the way I want it to, that the choices J and I make turn out the way that ultimately makes us happy.

There's wanting something so badly that you think about it all the time, and then perhaps you get it, and you knew you would anyway and you think that'd make you happy but it turns out to be a delusion that chains you to the expectations and tardy perceptions of this world.

So, do you, or do you not, really want all that?

I say Yes.

And no.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Happy New Year

It's been a funny New Year, in many senses of the word.

For one, didn't celebrate it with J which was a little weird. But he was ill, and I guess we could consider ourselves lucky to be on the same continent. We planned to go for the fireworks party but it didn't work out and maybe just as well, since I heard the minister made an appearance and it wouldn't have been too good for one of my biggest newsmakers to see me thrashed.

Had such a good time at the countdown with some of my colleagues and even though at the start it was only the 4 of us counting down in this uncrowded, trendy bar housed in a quaint shophouse in chinatown. It was lovely, affordable champagne, a party pack, and we made a lot of noise at the countdown, hugging each other shouting happy new year and going in a round declaring our resolutions. We cheers-ed to that and then promised we'd help each other fulfill our promises for the year. or so we hoped.

A wanted some to do some 'lancing' and somehow we convinced ourselves that going to clarke quay would be a good idea, god knows why and how. i remembered clinic played really good house/trance music and was sorely disappointed to find out it had been turned into a canto-pop club. Why the hell that happened, I don't know. It's a bit sad to think market forces have ruled out the rave in favour of canto - we are just getting infested by too many canto-dancing people on this island and very soon all us who love rave music will only have one little one by one sq m room to dance to, ipod earphones in our ears. how tragic.

The night soon became eventful - the turning point being my momentous decision to put my clutch bag down on a corner of the stage.

There was this crazed looking guy in trying-to-hard-to-be-cool spectacles who came up to me and shouted for me to take my bag off. I tried to reason with him, told him it really didn't matter if I was occupying a teeny weeny corner. He got aggressive. Very. And guess what he did next?

He actually spat at me. I was stunned and shocked. And then almost blinded by anger. Which fucking moron in this day and age spits on anyone, much less a bloody paying customer in a bar. WITH a cover charge. it's such a primal, hunter-gather pre-homosapien thing to do and he should go back to living in the stone ages, that asshole.

I wished J was there so he could punch that asshole for me. But then again it would have escalated into a full blown fight and that's not necessarily a good thing. To cut the long story short, the barmen tried to appease me into not pursuing the matter, and gave me two free drinks in a reconciliatory gesture. I tried my hardest to forget it but how could anyone take being spat on on new year's day lightly?
Perhaps on hindsight I should have demanded to speak to the manager of the place on the spot and get that guy fired. But it wasn't new year's for nothing and after already had 6 glasses of champagne and a few others after that... i definitely didn't have the right head space for reasoning, so I settled for getting him back by throwing a glass of water (or was it gin and tonic?) at him (my friends led us to the dance floor and it just seemed a natural thing to do, you could say the stars were aligned for it to happen) and giving him the 'read between the lines'. Then I took off - went out, got a cab, went home to J.

I was tired and so pissed off by then, I didn't give a shit about what happened. All I knew is at least I had the last laugh. That'll teach anyone to think they can get away with spitting at anyone. Later, A told me the rest had a sort of 'confrontation' outside the bar and some dialogue worthy of a singapore version of the godfather were exchanged. This included, "don't be so rude later I slap you bitch" and "I want to beat you up", but thank goodness nothing more than just words happened or I would have felt so guilty.

After such a long night, I went home and promptly fell asleep and the next morning when I woke the whole episode just seemed like a weird-funny and haha-funny night. I am unsure if I should take the issue up with the management. Somehow, after the drink pouring, I think I've given away any rights to negotiate... But if anything, I'm just glad the guy didn't get away with thinking he could just do what the fuck he wants and that people will swallow up his unbelievably rude gestures just because he has a crazy, I-am-a-murderer look. And from now on, if that place, or that band can get any bad press from me, it most certainly will.

For next year, A and I have concluded we should just stay at home and watch DVDs and drink amongst ourselves. If J wasn't ill we actually would have just gone back to mine for another ipod party and play her cool african rave track to dance the night away - but hey, as i said, the stars were aligned and maybe this was meant to happen, just to give our new year a bit of a kick and for me to contemplate the whole reason for living, resolutions and all that shit we're supposed to contemplate at the turn of the year.

While I could dismiss this as stupendous bad luck that it happened, maybe it happened for a reason and I have wondered why we all insist on going out and getting drunk on the 31st dec of every year and pay over 100 bucks for the privilege of getting spit or stamped on and waiting on the roadside for more than half an hour for a taxi to go home.

I wonder if the concept of the new year is just that - a concept. What makes the difference going from May 31st, for eg, into June 1st - and that 31st Dec is so special? Companies start and end their financial years at times anywhere during a given year - maybe I should declare 31st July my own financial/personal year so 1st August won't only be my birthday, it'll also be my new year every year. and I can go out and get drunk with all my good friends, and countdown without having to pay overpriced cover charges and when dec 31st comes I can say to the losers out on the streets, hah-hah! I had a better countdown already!

Meanwhile, my mum says it's better to forgive and forget and after listening to the whole story, said that the guy actually deserves my pity and prayers because what kind of sad life, childhood did he have, and how stupid he must be to inhabit that sphere of existence where such an act could supposedly liberate him. Of course, she also said I should stop being such a hot chilli padi and make a new year resolution to calm my life down since eventful things always seem to happen to me.

But would I want an otherwise boring existence? that is the other million dollar question. Sometimes I think to myself I really want a boring, peaceful life and then at other times I think that would really be so dull I rather have the more exciting one with lots of trials and tribulations even though it might mean more pain and unpredictability in the long run.

So in the true spirit of the new year tradition, I have made some resolutions myself and I am going to stick to them by hook or crook:

1. Take more deep breaths, be a calmer person, even if that means listening to 92.4FM (classical songs) instead of 99.5 (hard trance/house)

2. Save more money (worked for more than a year and nothing to show for it except lots of ikea furniture)

3. Sell my car and get a more fuel-saving one

4. Go to the gym and tone up. I'm not fat but I've lost all my muscles it's becoming so flabby.

5. Be healthy - in body, spirit and mind. Stop drinking so much ( I was hungover every single day on the last week of december)

6. Be more adventurous - do more than the same-same, even if you're stuck on this island.

7. And get started on my big project which I've been sitting on for so long...

8. Spend more time with my family, complain less and go to mass more often.

I'll stop at 8 since it's the year 2008 after all, and it's supposed to be auspicious.

Happy New Year my dears, I love you all.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Why I try to be green but still drive a car...

Recently, I met an old church friend at a wedding that I haven't seen in ages and he remarked to me he still remembered a story I wrote - all those months ago - about reducing one's carbon footprint, by making some little changes to one's daily life.

I told him my interest in the environment was a fairly recent thing and after some light bantering, and he asked me how that was going, I told the group of friends present I now drive very slowly to assauge my guilt of driving a car. We all laughed.

Then, lately, jokes aside, random criticisms about the fact I drive a car - or in general, criticism about people in environment-related industries who do drive - keeps surfacing at various occasions that now I finally feel I have the need to write what I really feel about the whole issue, no doubt something that recent environment converts must struggle to deal with to a certain extent.

First off, I've never professed to be an environmentalist - or an activist for that matter. I am painfully aware of the limitations of my green credentials. Though I do admit when I first was converted into the green cause, my over-zealousness and enthusiasm for my new found "religion" did cause me to - at several occasions - proclaim quite loudly my disgust for the way certain people around me lived: the obvious selfishness, blatant materialism and I-don't-care-about-the-world-so-what kind of people.

I have since learned to keep my thoughts to myself. And I certainly don't preach, save nagging at my brother for leaving his computer on 24/7 365 days of the year.

Before this year - I think the awareness happened somewhere around February or March - I frankly never really gave the environment much thought. But covering the topic, and meeting the people who care regularly on my jobs, have greatly inspired me to change some bits of my life. I won't go into how I've changed my lifestyle, there's no better person to judge my actions than myself, and I recognise the limitations of what I can do.

So on the issue of cars - and it is a point of contention for many - or my car specifically, I only defence was that I got it last year, at a time where I didn't care very much for my footprint and was none the wiser for the guilt it'll later cause me.

The next idea I'm trying to articulate is a little difficult to explain. Let me borrow NUS's Assoc Prof Lee's words: he told me in an interview before, it's very hard to get people to care about the environment, if it means sacrificing their present way of life. The only way, to achieve mass awareness, or results, is really devising ways - using technology and what-nots - that people can continue to live their lives at current comfort levels, but in a manner that is still sustainable.

The point is I don't think it's a realistic expectation for people to think that if someone cares for the environment, he or she has to live like a hippie in a makeshift caravan, wear tatty clothes and live miserably. It's never going to be possible, and there will never be enough people who will be convinced. The world's best bet is finding ways to support a certain comfort level that man has achieved, while doing it in a sustainable way. Humans are after all, humans. After fighting for progress and technological discoveries to make our life more convenient, it is not realistic to expect humankind to revert to the old horse-drawn carriage days of yore.

The world will not give up its cars. But hybrid vehicles, cars that run on fuel cells, biofuels etc, can go some way in reducing that footprint and in a decade's time, these vehicles will be the norm. Technology will help us to live sustainably, cities of the future - like the eco-city in Tianjin - will be built in a fashion that does away with the need to drive in the first place.

So for people like me, who live in a non-eco-city and out in the sticks, and whom if without a car, would take one and a half hours to get to work on the bus, it now becomes a toss-up between making a great big loss on a purchase I made before I started to care - and giving up a mode of transport that makes me highly efficient at work.

So the sad truth I've been forced to accept, for myself, is I can't give up my car. So now you know. Work is too important to me. And so is my sanity in this crowded, human-infested island.

Given the circumstances, there are a few next-best plans I can formulate, among them is for me to downgrade to a more economical vehicle, which I am trying to do - or wait till I can afford a greener, hybrid vehicle. Or wait till I can afford to rent an apartment that is nearer work. Or in 4 and a half years time, go live in a little village in Britain where everything is accessible by foot within a mile's radius.

Either way, being environmentally-aware is a work in progress. It's not something that can be achieved overnight. There's always more you can do, things you can save, differences you can make, however small. But I've since learned to kill my zealousness in converting, or at least trying to infect people around me to this cause. Many of them - who refuse to see the goodness in little actions, however small, and who always focus on the negative, as if in doing so, it magnifies their ego and self-righteousness - misinterpret such efforts anyway.

For those disparaging, discouraging individuals - who sit in their ivory towers, who think they are too-cool-for-school for any causes, and with their noses turned up at others - I suggest some navel-gazing at how miserable their own lives must be for them to be so bitter. And for people who encounter such people, don't let them get you down.

So yes, I drive a car. Yes, I'm still trying to be green. I'm not being hypocritical. I'm just human. And at least... I'm still trying.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The Self-Righteous, Moralistic Newsmaker

So once again I'm on the afternoon shift and everyday I tell myself I finally have the time to write so I really must make an effort.

But once again the long list of "to-dos" swamp my efforts till finally I think I have to write - if only for a peace of mind. Or I'll end up tossing and turning in bed again like last night, staring into my curtains, quietly illuminated by the faint street night lights outside our home, with my mind in turmoil, wandering to numerous places but never quite finding that peace.

So there's one thing that really riled me this week that I should really get off my chest. And here, I present you, the profile of The Self Righteous, Moralistic Newsmaker.
This is a person that takes cheap shots at people around them to justify their high-minded, idealistic notions when really - they should make more of an effort to know exactly what they are talking about, and take a step back to look at the bigger picture.

The context of this: I was looking for people to interview for a particular story last week, involving a change in policy by a state landlord, who has revised one of its systems to push out some popular state properties in the form of bidding.

After asking around, a helpful colleague of mine gave me a contact to call, so I did. And that was when I made mistake number 1, don't interview someone who is relatively poor and rents a $700 flat, when you are writing about a story involving properties that rent for thousands of dollars. Note for future ref: Interview someone who can relate to the story. (I didn't know he was an unsuitable newsmaker.)

I am not rich myself, and often struggle to pay ALL my bills - having fought for and won my independence to live away from my parents (WITHOUT getting married) - and still have a decent life. So I know how the poor (or the relatively poor) often can feel victimised more so than others in situations where they feel they are compromised, so I can almost forgive this newsmaker - let's call him Mr SR - for being so ignorant.

Basically, to cut the story short, literally - my story was about the state landlord selecting some popular properties - like the colonial black & white bungalows highly sought after because of their spacious grounds, colonial architecture and reasonable rents - for a new bidding system, where anyone in the public domain can bid for it.

It had said properties that only cost a few hundred, or the low thousands to rent out, wouldn't be affected because it simply isn't worth the effort and cost to put it through a bidding system. (This, he did not comprehend and immediately talked like the bidding system was a threat to his being able to pay only $700 for a 1-bedroom flat.)

And to be honest, knowing the market, and how some of these lovely big bungalows get hogged by one same family for centuries because they pass it on to their mother, brother, uncle, sister, grandmother and cousin in law of a friend's, I was objectively in favour of it, because it sounded like a fair, good idea - although I know these properties would never be in my reach.

It makes logical sense, in the free market, for whoever really needs it and is willing to pay for it, to be able to live in such a property. The true value of how much the property is rented for, will be decided by market forces in the free-economy. That's how markets have worked for centuries. Unless you were living in North Korea.

So comes Mr SR and his high-minded views, no doubt, groomed by the highly-singular American-centric education, who told me in the interview he thought it was a bad idea.

Fair enough, I agreed. Everyone has their opinion.

But instead of taking his quotes down meekily, and saying bye politely, (as he probably expected me to do) I decided to engage him in some friendly discussion about a pilot exercise of the new bidding system, which has already taken place - which has proven that the bids were pretty much in tandem with the market rate - something he had a gripe with: he insisted that the bidding system will artificially drive up the market.

So very politely, I told him that the pilot has proved his theory wrong, so what does he think?

He had nothing to say, and begrudgingly said, well I guess then.. ok

Excuse me, what kind of a reaction or quote is that? You want me to print that?

After ensuring that I got his details, I hung up and thought nothing much of the whole conversation and proceeded to file my story.

Good intro, background, explanation, one negative voice, one positive voice. Okay, done. I had better things to do with my weekend.

Then I found out on Monday that Mr SR had written a whole blog post dedicated to me in which he accused me of 1. being pushy during the interview and 2. towing the government line and 3. toning down his remarks in my story.

I was livid.

Not only because of the most obvious reason - I was extremely polite to him in my conversation. For him to accuse me of being pushy simply because I was challenging his view really reflected his own insecurities and own self-righteous mental superiority - or rather, his perception of his moral and mental superiority, which in my opinion, was more incredibly flawed than anything else.

But also because anyone who knows me knows I'm the most anti- government-towing reporter ever to breathe, and I always write my stories in a critical tone that more often than not, elicits a request from somewhere up above to "tone myself down".

I tried to forget about it after a brief discussion with T and after defending myself, I didn't give it any more thought. But last night, tossing and turning in bed, this was one of the day's events that kept playing in my head, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I felt.

After so many "toning down" requests, for a puny little American self-righteous prat to tell me I "toned down" his remarks just left me absolutely fuming.

What does he expect me to write, besides the factual truth, which I wrote? Oh, because I didn't sensationalise his objection, that is "toning it down"???
"Mr SR vehemently objected to the change in policy because he's afraid that the $700 flat he lives in might no longer be so cheap". D'oh.

In fact, thinking back, the only insightful quote he offered me was that he thought the bidding system will drive prices up, and price people out of the market. He kept repeating that like a broken record, never really offering any insight to why he is convinced that is the only outcome. Again, I think this has to do very much with the fact he thought people like him will be affected and booted out of a home.

Oh, did I mention also that the new system doesn't actually affect his property at all so all this "I'm so scared of losing my apartment, let's protect the low and middle-income group" crap really seemed like self-centred dribble to me...

So T tells me he's a liberalist and believes in rent control. Hello? Is he stupid? Or just naive? Liberalism and rent control never went together. In fact, American = mother of all capitalist/free market-economy countries = anti-thesis of rent control = against everything that is not controlled or determined by the free market. I was stupefied that an American was saying this... perhaps he should spend his time re-learning the simple basics/ABCs of economics instead of ranting about something he clearly has little understanding of?

I am just absolutely flummoxed by the naivety and ignorance by certain people sometimes who are so quick to judge and jump on their high horse.

On what basis did he have the right to say I was towing the government line.

Because my story was mildly positive?

It wasn't like a chirpy oh-what-a-great-scheme story, but a hey-look, some-people-might-actually-have-a-go-at-living-at-a-colonial-state-property story which was meant to INFORM.

I had no hidden agenda. And I certainly wasn't towing ANY government agenda.

It irks me that so many people have this "cop-out" - oh, ST, reporter, government line. I am beyond trying to engage friendly conversation with such people who only superficially understands the industry. It's just a bloody waste of my time.

So back to the story: if you asked me, frankly, what I thought of the scheme, I would tell you I thought it was a good one - people have more chance at going at these elusive properties. BUT I also thought the scheme probably needs to be refined down the stages to make sure prices are not artificially inflated, or to address any unexpected concerns it might throw up.

But as stated in my story, the new system is only in its infancy stages, with VERY few - read, FIVE properties out of the millions in Singapore - to go online next month, so that the system can be tweaked.
It's not hard and fast. It's not an earth-shattering, Budget-announcement policy change. And it certainly doesn't jeopardize any political idealism one might stubbornly cling on too: It's a freaking property story for goodness sake. Not a let's-look-at-the-underlying-political-idealism-of-this-new-property-system analysis or thesis.

It surprises me that this 29-year-old MR SR can really be so wonderfully quick to point out flaws in our systems, our newspaper, our country - When the fact that he is here, lives here, on CHEAP, RENTED, SUBSIDISED STATE property, means that he is feeding off the 'wonderfulness' of our country to a very large extent.

So Mr SR, if you don't like the country, or the newspaper, you can very well not read it (which I bet you don't anyway, therefore you are SO qualified to judge it).... and do us a favour, fuck off back to America.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

I haven't blogged in ages, simply...

... because I've had no time.

Sometimes I wonder if my life is not too filled with activities by choice and by obligation, that even when I have the opportunity to take a time-out, I don't really do so. Also because I'm not used to it.

In the last three weeks, or since I last wrote, lots of things have happened. So many what I identify as 'blog topics' in my head, and on little scraps of paper - but they're just uncompleted ideas that I have just no time to breathe some words into.

So, since so much time has passed, it was inevitable that I have come to many conclusions, some of which don't make it to be published on this blog, but those that do, is listed here in no particular order:

1. I need to blog more. Writing for newspapers don't really count, because you have to assume the 'professional me' persona and write according to exactly how news or features or online works. Which is not necessarily a useful channel or tool for expression, or necessary relief for one's soul. So I have resolved to blog more. Even if to keep a record of what's going on in my busy life. So when I look back in a few years, it's not just a blank sheet of web background staring straight back at me, tauntingly.

2. I find myself stupidly writing down my events/appointments on my new dopod, when actually I really like writing it down the old-fashioned way in a paper diary. So I now do both - which really defeats the whole purpose, because it's a waste of time. And also because I get confused and sometimes don't record important things in EITHER palm nor diary. As Lee Evans would put it, man has gone through centuries of technological innovation, to come up with something man had already possessed in the very first place: putting a pen to a sheet to record writing.

3. Despite my hectic schedule, I managed to squeeze in a night of clubbing with J's work last week and we went to Mambo night at Zouk. And for me, it was the first time in a very long time. When I got there, I remembered why it's been a long time.
Because, as I've always told my best friends (who stubbornly cling on to the non-existent nostalgia of the venue), the crowd there is so infantile, I was surprised that there weren't any baby strollers there.
Everyone looks like they're 18 years old or younger. Oh, sorry, make that 16.
There are dumb, ditzy ah lians who dress like they just discovered skirts, and who talk poorly - and ah bengs who dance to all the retro songs, while making hand signals that really just make them look so bad. And so sad.

Which leads me to.... intense embarrassment.

When J looked at the ugly bunch of ah bengs with very bad skin and very bad hair-cuts, standing on stage gesticulating wildly to "Squareee-rooooom-mmm", he turned to me and said, smirking: 'no wonder you stopped dating Singapore chinese men' - I seethed when he said that, racial pride all bubbling up. But I realised I was angry because at some level, he was right. I couldn't even defend them even if I wanted to, given the choice specimen that we were looking at.

Frustrating... because there are decent looking Sg chinese men around. Just that they aren't standing in the middle sadly gesturing. And they're certainly not at Mambo.


4. Work stresses: I hate being at the bottom of the work chain, simply because I've been there a shorter time. There are so many more incompetent people older than me it's really unbelievable. And it's worse when you're being forced to step aside, and do the crappy stories, because the ones who were there longer have "chope-d" the good stories. When you obviously can do a better job. I hate it! I hate being cleverer than them and not being able to demonstrate it!
Then again, the true intellect will find some way of circumventing the forced circumstances and find some other devious way to show them up. And that's exactly what my gameplan is. (Shhhh...)

5. Making a very important decision in my life. A milestone. A new beginning. And the start of something good.


6. Feeling Guilty.

Often, I think of myself really critically, exacting very high standards for my performance, that sometimes I extend this to the people I meet and often judge them on the same standards.

Maybe I shouldn't. I sometimes wish I was one of those people that "don't have a harsh word to say about anyone" - but these people are rarely the CEOs of the world, and greatness often eludes them. Then again, maybe I've got my priorities wrong. Maybe being great at something, or striving to be remembered in some way, by the world, isn't as important as I make it out to be.

So I feel guilty sometimes for thinking someone's ugly, or stupid, or irritating - but most times, they really deserve the label. For example, I had a really evil, and unkind looking guy on my recent course - and he turned out, really, not to be very nice. I get scared, even looking at him, it's just impossible to generate ANY warm feeling towards people like that. Is it his fault that he's born with those looks? Or is it because he's a nasty person, that's why he has those looks. I'm still trying to figure.

But if there's one comforting thing, I can safely say I'm nowhere near the standards of some of my uh..peers, who are top-class bitches. Or more accurately, indulge in top-class bitching.

Friendly banter and half-baked humour aside, their underlying implications and judgements are sometimes so critical and harsh I sometimes feel guilty even just being in the presence. And I wonder what's the merit in doing that.
Do they really mean the evil things they say, or is it just a flippant indulgence that doesn't reflect their character when push comes to shove?

I think, however, if you practice so much in your daily life, at being mean, at some point you inevitably become what you practice everyday. Oui?

7. Feeling extremely pissed off with one J, while being protective of the other. It doesn't matter that you don't know what I'm talking about, as long as I do.


8. The amazing INSEAD business journalism seminar I've just attended! Which makes me wonder if I should switch jobs and become an economist.

It has been a brilliant 3 days and I have learnt so much, I sometimes regret not really doing a degree like economics or finance, considering how intellectually stimulating it is.

I've always had that problem, all my life, choosing between the science and arts when in fact I excelled in both equally it was so hard to make a choice. Often my heart won over my mind, and when my desire to be different (from the boring engineers, bankers and accountants of this world) gets the better of me, I inadvertently choose the latter. When actually, my intelligence and mental capacity is probably better off taking on a science subject and engaging in it. Since it does deal with so many complex issues and concepts, it seems only fair that I give my own mind the sweet experience of facing that challenge.

I could go on and on about what I've learned and the depth of the topics I covered but that's not necessarily the time for that now. I however recommend that anybody who remotely considers themselves intelligent, should consider at least getting a crash course on how the world economies work. I'm so grateful to have done the course, simply because it's only made me realize what more potential I've, or more broadly, the human brain's, got!

In any case, it's probably sewn the seed of desire in me to pursue an MBA. It's hard work - and expensive - but I also think it will be amazing. Of course, it will have to come before or after my contemplated law degree. Just have to figure out now, where to find the time. And also, if I do do the MBA, what does it mean for my future after that and what am I really seeking?


9. There are so many things I need to do. Prioritising and time management is even more of the essence now for me. I now see how the modern woman is cursed. No wonder happy women don't write.


10. I love my mum. I mustn't forget that she has been an amazing mother, and made so much sacrifices in her life for her children. She is not without imperfection but she wouldn't be human otherwise. So even if I get annoyed, I must remember how great a woman she really is.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Pain

I can't remember when's the last time I felt pain so acutely as I do now.

My back and my thighs are killing me, sending shooting pains that feel like needles whenever I attempt to walk or do nothing remotely mobile.

To give an illustration on how bad it was, when I got up this morning, I had to roll myself off, because I couldn't bend my back. Then when I got to a half-prostrate position, I had to stop every 5 seconds as I straightened myself up vertebrae by vertebrae because it was just so freaking painful.

I can't walk up or down the stairs without holding onto something, and whenever I drop something on the floor, I can't pick it up.

Suddenly, I feel like I completely understand the frustrations of the disabled. We take for granted what comes so easy to us.

Now the question: why am I in such pain?

I wish I had a more glamorous reason as to why I've been inflicted with such agony - such as, jumping into the ocean to save a drowning person and swimming to shore for the next few hours, or, playing football and scoring a hat-trick, but spraining my back in the process..

but no. Truth be told. I am in agony because I played netball yesterday.

And totally underestimating the sport, I did no warm-ups, not warm-downs, just straight in, played like a maniac, 5 matches, till the semi-finals. After which when I walked off the court after our team won the third place, I felt my legs go all wobbly and that was when I realized I might hurt today - but nothing prepared me for THIS!

Now I feel like an achy, grandma, and it's so sad because I've always thought I'd be invincible and immune to back pain forever.

****

TWO days of MC and a lot of drugs later, I'm feeling much better. If there's one thing I learnt, it's never to underestimate the sport. I'm never playing netball again without proper warm-ups.

The other is: our marketing division is slightly er, behaviourally regressive. There was this female team captain who looked like she was about sec 4 - and she kept going "marketing... woosh!" throughout the tournament. I kid you not. I had goose bumps creeping along my arm whenever I heard it... and when they finally won their match, they started doing "hip hip hooray" cheers for themselves... (three times in a row!) as a verbal pat on their backs.

I guess there's nothing wrong with a bit of team spirit.. but they were so delusionally serious about the whole thing, they didn't realize that everyone else was laughing at them from a distance away....