relieved

It has been an interesting week to say the least. So, finally, now that I can breathe properly, let me share about them.

First, as most of you might have figured by now, I was invited to speak at the Political Forum on the General Elections organised by the Political Science Department of NUS. First, when I agreed to the talk, I had the impression that it was largely an academic endevor with political scholars speaking alongside me. After I agreed, about five days before forum day, I find out I was to be the final speaker in a panel of speakers that included Ms Indranee Rajah, Mr Steve Chia, Mr Chiam See Tong and this other Mr Chia who was a Worker's Party member. Talk about pressure. The upside to that was, I figured I'd have a relatively easy time with the Q & A round with such bigwigs there. So, anyway, I was coincidentally dressed in the exact same colours as Ms Rajah and we both flanked the sides of the panel. Steve Chia was a no-show. And I was seated next to Mr Chiam who, I must say, I found highly personable and entertaining.

In any case, the forum went well, I had fun. I think I did pretty well, all things considered. Particularly cos I was so darn nervous in the lead up to the thing. The press got most stuff right- not perfect, but what the heck. The programme leaflet for some reason decided I was there to save the world... my mom took offence, I found it funny. The emcee got the name of my company wrong to boot; ah well...

That forum led me to be invited to another interview, this time on chinese radio channel 95.8, with DJ Jia Biao and Li Zhen who totally wowed me with their flawless mandarin, and made me feel, as I sat patiently for my turn to speak, more and more inept.

Now, this was an even bigger challenge cos while I speak decent mandarin, knowing and using the political terms is a whole new ball game. So, in any case, Mariann's chinese tuition teacher was kind enough to come by to help me prepare. Turns out, my written mandarin was still in relatively good shape! There were basically, three of us; of course the two other guests spoke PERFECT mandarin with like idioms and stuff. I stuck to my highly sing-song chinese, speckled with english here and there and decidedly pulled through. I now can even say all the cheem general election terms in mandarin.

So, all in all, its been a fun week. Peppered with small snatches of hyper-reality, uber-illusions and loads of fun. Thanks to all who prayed with me, for me and for the votes of confidence. I'm truly blessed. Thanks and here's to my next adventure!

voice fright

For all the vouches of confidence, the many prayers for me, the countless crossed fingers: thanks. Yesterday's forum went well and I had a whale of a time. I think I made quite a bit of sense, met some phenomenal people- the kind I actually spent modules studying- and had great fun. For those that were there, you'd know what I mean when I say it was a battlefield of a different dimension: of ideas, ideologies and personal belief. There was talk of the past, the present, the future; discussions about the changing face of the very fabric of our society and keen insights into the inner workings and outer considerations of politics, society and personal convictions. Very cool. Very cool, indeed.

In any case, I'm still freaking out, a new "challenge" has arisen that would require me to dance in an arena I've firmly kept out of and in a medium that I'm not too aquainted to, to a beat I've stashed at the back burner of my mind for close to 8 years.

Its all coming back to haunt me now...

Time for tuition.

And more nutella.

stage fright

For those that know me, you'd know that speaking in public rarely scares me. I mean, after all, it is a silly notion given what I do for a living. I mean, it's not like I am so absolutely confident each time I address a crowd- I do get the usual butterflies and nervous pangs but it's usually under control and its not that big a deal on my system.

This time, i'm actually nervous. As in, right-in-my-bones kind of nervous. People keep saying, "Oh, you'd do well!" and stuff: thanks for the vote of confidence but I'm still pretty much staring at a blank piece of paper that is supposed to be way filled with stuff I'm to talk about tomorrow. In fact, I should have, by now, have my speech down to pat and what not. And the Rapster says I "work brilliantly under pressure."

Oh for the cries of confidence.... I feel I'm wearing shoes two sizes too big today.

Maybe they'll fit better after I've had some nutella.

violet stains

Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
Mark Twain

Streets of gold

Ah... the streets of gold....

the funny things dogs do

I have the most adorable labby in the world.

Mango usually waits to greet me quite laboriously when I get home from work each day. She's stomp around, lick my knees, start wanting to offer me her hand to shake and all the other doggy stuff she does. Last Saturday, however, when I got home, as I turned to get out of my silly-car, I came face to face with not just one, but two smiling faces. It seems Mango's friend came over to play. As in, the dog just wandered into my house. Apparently she belongs to my next door neighbour who lets the pooch roam about nearby for stretches so its been coming over to play with my ever frisky puppy (who's beginning to outsize and outweigh her friend who's 2 full years older. )

In any case, Mango's friend stayed till past dinner. Mango's the regular friend-maker. Her boyfriend- this other golden she hangs with- lives across the street and her buddy lives next door. Once, when we accidently left the gate open, we found her sitting with her friend; one inside the gate, one outside. Just sitting there...

Funny things dogs do.

on the streets

Julian Beever is an English artist who’s famous for his art on the pavements of England, France, Germany, USA, Australia and Belgium. It’s peculiarity? Beever gives to his drawing an anamorphose, his images are drawn to create an optical illusion to give a 3D image when viewed at the right angle. Its totally amazing...

the silent gold

The more the words the less the meaning,
and how does that profit anyone?
Ecc 6:11

I continue my journey into the depth of Ecclesiastes and it so so apprarent that this passage and verse could not come at a better time. It was a day of gross revalations and the rudest awakening to the blindingly loathsome stakes that are played in this grand shennanigan we call life.

Its very humbling, almost assuring, to know that sometimes less is more. That not all that glitters is gold and maybe, Nietzsche got it right all those years ago: Truths are only illusions we forget are illusions.

what maketh

As I continue on my reading of the Ecclesiastial chapters, I continue to stand amaze at how, really, there are so many things that are meaningless. That we so often spend our time worrying and fretting and hating and all the whole she-bang- only to have trod a path that leads to meaninglessness. We serve to bring to justice the injustices that we believe to have served against us, we attempt to right the wrongs that this life seems to have acursed us, to win back the cruel hand we bemoan has been dealt to us, we even strive to rationalise, to fix things, to make things right in a bid to win some form of moral victory.

"God brings to judgement both the righteous and the wicked,
for there will be a time for every activity, a time for every deed." (Ecc 3:17)

For at the end of the day, there is a time for everything- everything happens in His time, in His season, in His plans and at the curx of all that, at the heart of the matter, at the confluence of all our faith, morality, humanity and love lies the soul of who we are: the core that so deeply defines us, our beliefs and our actions.

A soul that is-as May writes on her blog...
Dead in sin.
Saved by grace.
Living in hope.
Walking in faith
Surviving on a prayer.

the ecclesiastial truth

I've been spending quite a fair bit of time reading Ecclesiasties lately and have spent many hours and moments in the day contemplating about the first two chapters. For the initiated, you'd know that it's the part where Solomon- old, wise Solomon- declares that everything is meangless; that wisdom is meaningless; that pleasures are meaningless, that wisdon (note how "Wisdom" appears twice) and folly are meaningless; that even toil is meaningless.

I've always been fascinated by what's been written in these chapters ever since Angie (my former sunday school teacher) shared this with us one sunday. I mean, its a beautifully written prose with a poignant message that I don't think I've gotten till now. I've read those two chapters many times before, studied it in church, with friends and even had a poster once with the words "Everything is meaningless" stuck to my wall for frivolous good measure some years back when I was in one of those horrid teenage angsty phases.

I suppose, after all this time, after all these other experiences in between...something clicked as I re-read these passages again. A sudden eureka moment, one might call. Yes, I see it now, everything is meaningless- all the wealth, the cleverness, the hard work, the labour, the smarts and the fancy-mancy moralistic high-horse stuff we all espouse. It is all meaningless.

Save one thing: our heart.

It is this, broken and contrite, that truly matters.
Not the grand fights, the high achievements.
Not the well-done backpats or the worldly hoohas about how great we all are.

It is the good fight our heart battles.
It is the long race our heart runs.
It is the honesty our heart champions.
It is the forgiveness our heart embraces.
It is the courage our heart digs deep to find.
It is the truth our heart obeys.
It is the Love our heart cannot deny.

silly car

I want me one of those

Despite the fact that I love watching racing, that I can change my own tyres (at least my friend Greg made me learn for those just-in-case days) and like and know more about cars than the average girl and my street directions better than most guys, I'll admit that I'm not the best driver in the world. I do my best to signal most of the time, to be safe when I change lanes and to stay within the insane speed limit; but I won't boast to drive very well. I'm rather blur, I dream and I get distracted quite a fair bit.

Today was a drama day for my silly car.I parked my car (which while not technically a sports car, has a relatively low profile) on the this huge-ass kerb outside my chuch with the road on one side and a second lower kerb on the other. This lower second kerb is next to a drain by the way. Its not the first time I parked there, but this time I parked rather a ways down from where I normally do. It was a rather tight squeeze but I got in fine and figured I'd get out fine.

So, anyway, in the time I was in church, someone had parked quite closely behind me so I really had to do my best to maneuver my car out of her tight spot. In any case, I was being my usual dreamy self after service (usually I have Ruben to be my second eyes and ears cos he's better at this car driving thing that I am) so when I got into my car, I attempted to turn my steering wheel full-lock left. Which theoretically, was the right thing to do- I just forgot how precarious my left front wheel was to the kerb edge so it kinda dropped over and so my car was pretty much resting on three wheels and of course, combinding that with the lowness of my car, meant that I was pretty much stuck.

To cut the long story short, the guys from church came out to help me. They debated trying to do some driving maneuver or other, discussed how they ought to jack the car up and stuff (wherein I realised my silly car did not have a jack). They decided on what one of them called it the Caveman Alternative. They were going to physically lift my car's front left side and move her.

And they did. Gallantly sporting, grunting from the weight and sweaty from the noondayt heat... they- think there must have been about 9 of them- LIFTED MY CAR OUT. It was so unbelievable, totally unreal, and yet, something that really touched me cos they really went out of their way to do what they did.

So, to Pierre, Bernard, Sherm, John, Dr. Menon, Bjorn, Raymond, Ben, Shienyan (I'm sure I'm spelling this wrong), Ian and the rest of the gang: thanks a million. Really appreciate all you guys did. :)

As I told Pierre, I think I'd be safer in a Land Rover Defender Type car. Something to think about.

coffee & cream

Maybe because of the work that I do, people have this impression that I have tons of friends. For the record, I do know a fair few number of people and many of these same few people happen to know tons of people; so yeah, by that I have a decently wide cast of aquaintances, of people that I meet and know. But the truth is, I don't keep many friends. I like most people- I won't lie and say there aren't that few that I don't quite like- but I truly am friends only with very few. The inner Cherie circle, as it were is mighty small. Too small for many, just right for me.


So, here's two of my favourite people- of all time. One's been my verbal sparring partner (literally) who's probably been witnesst to some of my most innane/insane stuff- stuff of Cherie legends, way too many late nights of pottering about (she'll get the pun) and of sharing, encouragement and entertainment. The other, well, she's a class act all on her own, leading a life of simple pleasures and high drama- she's simply complicated, and she deserves her own TV show (again, pun intended, those that get it, well, will get it).

And time flew tonight. In a night of tiny hourglasses, a grand search for Nutella and an adventure that led us to a small cove in a tuck-away bit of town. With good friends, good conversations and a lifetime of friendship.

Its about making the effort. Really.

And they have, time and time again.

one small voice

Our convictions are a funny thing isn't it? We claim we stand for something but we won't put our money where our mouth is. We pretend, we make excuses, we rationalise and we do all sorts of funny things to say what we don't mean. We bad mouth, we twist tales, we convince ourselves that we are so correct that we end up believing the very tale we spin for the world to hear. We paint another out to be the bad guy, we make a hue and cry, we bitch, rant and grumble- only to smile sweetly a the very person we just, moments ago, decried.

Perhaps its about consistency. Perhaps it is about not being afraid to stand up for what you truly believe and deeply feel, come what may. Perhaps, we are not yet ready, then, to admit to ourselves that perhaps we haven't had the courage to truly believe in ourselves.

I wonder what "the lone soldier" must have thought as he saw the massive lines of tanks in front of him. A diminutive man on his way home from the market maybe, plastic bags in hand. Over the years, no one has ever put a name to that one man who changed- forever- the face of Chinese politics. He's the unnamed soldier, the lone voice, a simple man who believed so deeply in a simple truth.

And the Truth shall set you free.

living the dream

Damn that green frog! :)

In any case, its a good reminder for me that despite how life's not always as it seems, I really can't complain.

I'm not in wanting.
I'm in reasonably good health
I've my family around me
I've good friends to entertain, love and hug me.
I've good books to read
I love my job and the people I work with.
I sleep well every night.
I've got a direct line to God (its called Prayer, people)

Yeah, I really can't whine about much.

need some good hands

I want.
I need.
I must have.

NOW...

bowl of rice

What is the price of a bowl of rice?
Some say its mere pennies.
I say,
It depends on where you got them rice from:
Might you have stolen the bowl from someone else?
Maybe simply snatched it hungrily.
But its still no excuse-
For then, I say,
It's worth the price of your soul.

unsure pictures

I'm no longer sure about what I'm seeing.

Well, ok, sometimes I'm clear, most times I know what I'm suppose to be seeing, feeling, knowing. But not all the time. And there are somethings I can't have questions about. There are just some things that I need to know for sure, to feel it right in my bones, to believe in my soul its right there where it should be.

The hourglass as already been turned, the sand is falling...

Running out of time.
Running out of patience.
Running away if I have to.
Even if I don't want to.

unexpected

I've never found a four leaf clover in my life. I did, one time, find a store in some shopping center selling these "lucky clovers" in pendants, paper weights, bracelents and the likes. The man told me that he has sold many such clovers and it has all brought the buyers luck.

Question: If these clovers were so lucky, why was he still stranded in some obscure corner of a shopping bazzaar. Come one, with the number of clovers he had around him, he should be the luckiest darn person in the world!

In any case, its been a week of fortunate- surprising, but nice- events for me. Two old friends whom I've not met up with of chatted with in over nine months called me out of the blue. To be more accurate, one was due to a mutual friend who called and asked me the perenial tough-to-answer question: "guess who I'm with right now?" I didn't guess correctly but spent some happy minutes catching up with the mystery guest in question. The second was a straight out, blast from the past phone call of new beginnings and old endings; of invitations and closures: I'm glad you found your peace.

Either ways, I wish both of them well, both seem to have journeyed significantly in the last nine months and are in a much better place right now. Wish them both well. Seems many of us have walked quite a fair ways this last year.

spin spin spin spin spin

Look, a rat at his spinning wheel.
Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin.
Over and over and over and over.
On and on and on and on.
Going nowhere. Going somewhere.

But I personally like it
when they run about in the little plastic ball.
Its totally adorable.

listen

Shush world, stop shouting.
You've been too loud, too long already.

I will listen by Twila Paris

Hard as it seems, standing in dreams: where is the dreamer now
Wonder if I wanted to try; would I remember how
I don't know the way to go from here,
but I know that I have made my choice
And this is where I stand until He moves me on
And I will listen to His voice

This the faith: Patience to wait when there is nothing clear
Nothing to see- still we believe Jesus is very near
I cannot imagine what will come, but I've already made my choice
And this is where I stand until He moves me on
And I will listen to His voice

Could it be that He is only waiting there to see
if I will learn to love the dreams that He has dreamed for me

Can't imagine what the future holds, but I've already made my choice
And this is where I stand until He moves me on
And I will listen to His voice

the equation

Some things just don't add up, I suppose. Its like, I wish life as as simple as A+B=C. Like all the limits were defined and all the symbols and numbers all add up. But it doesn't. There is always some hidden thing here, there, or other. Some fine print, some unwritten rule, some unknown factor that trips you up, that makes you stumble and fall, or even stump you dry. Like suddenly all the rules you were taught in school (BODMAS or some crap like that) became void. That now, there are new rules, ones you don't know about, ones you've never even thought conceivable. But there they are.

So, Cherie's made a new decision- she's going to assume all the rules are void and re-discover what each symbol, each movement, each part of the grand equation really means. Then maybe she'd be closer to figuring out what all this hoopla is all about.