hold up the sky

the end

2007-07-21T02:03:00.000+08:00

I'm closing this blog.

I think with forgiveness...
...comes the closing of a chapter and the opening of a new one.
...comes the fragrance of the violets you've crushed underfoot.
...comes the letting go and moving on.

To you: Its been a long road. I forgive you.

three.

2007-06-13T01:10:00.000+08:00

I made three wishes today.
Holding my breath.
One.
Two.
Three.

Shhh...

people that count

2007-06-12T22:06:00.000+08:00

I've had many interns come through the doors of my company and each of them have brought something totally unique and extraordinary to the table. Today, the internship term of another two my my interns come to a close and to say its been quite a ride is an understatement. Its been a blast.

To Yv and Cheryl: Thanks for all that you have weathered with us and for being such an addition to the Eka team. Thanks for your tireless energy, your willingness to stretch, be pushed and for going at it like a pro. There has been some totally out-of-whack moments and other slightly sillier ones. Either ways, it been great. Am going to miss ya. Take care and all the best. Go kick ass!

letting

2007-06-11T23:01:00.000+08:00

LETTING GO TAKES LOVE

To let go does not mean to stop caring,
it means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off,
it's the realization I can't control another.
To let go is not to enable,
but allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means
the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another,
it's to make the most of myself.
To let go is not to care for,
but to care about.
To let go is not to fix,
but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their destinies.
To let go is not to be protective,
it's to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny,
but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less and love more
Remember: The time to love is short

- Author Unknown

and the greatest of all...

2007-06-10T20:49:00.000+08:00

And that love of Christ
“bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things”
(1 Cor. 13:7).

countdown

2007-06-08T11:35:00.000+08:00

I think I've done what I could.
In the best way I know how.
Not saying its perfect.
Or that I am.
Porbably far from-
But it just is.

You've made your choice.
Now its time for me to make mine.
Just put the blame on me.
It's easier that way.
That's my plan anyway.

I give up.
I'm done.

Thanks for everything.
Its been one heck of a ride.

All the best.
Be well.

Be still

2007-06-07T14:25:00.000+08:00

Be still, my soul;
The Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.

I've been having a rough time and this verse kept repeating itself in my head. Over and over and over again until I forced to go through my CD collection to find the disc. Yeah, I couldn't even remember which disc it was from till much later. Lots have been gnawing at me, at my spirit and my soul and this was timely. God speaks in such quiet, yet powerful, ways. And sometimes the shoutings all around me is far too distracting from what's really important.

struck gold

2007-06-04T23:08:00.000+08:00

My friend May has this unbelievable knack of finding truly amazing buys. In recent times she's somehow been able to find the most darling earrings at super cheap prices from the little knooks and crannies that she shops at. It could be some push cart outside Carrefour, or the pasar malam at this-that-or-the-other-town or at some small stall in the bowels of Queensway (I mean, as far as I know, that place is a sports shoe place, but she still manages to haul back some truly cool accessories.)

So, over dinner today, she presented me with my own stash of all-gold earrings. I rarely buy gold stuff so its such a cool pressie to receive not one, not two.... but- get this- SIX pairs of gold earrings!

Guess who?

2007-06-01T01:37:00.000+08:00

Guess who's featured in June's Citta Bella?

a cooper update

2007-05-31T18:32:00.000+08:00

This is a Cooper update.
My puppy is now a bona fide monster.

God knows...

2007-05-30T16:46:00.000+08:00

Its been a whirlwind few weeks, a non-stop halabaloo of this that and the other. I've barely been able to breathe or catch my breath even on the few off moments I get to wind down just for a bit. It's like being winded. Perpectually. Its not a nice feeling really, neither is it a healthy one. I mean, I do do my best to "get through" and so far its been snatches of sleep and foot reflex (I'd blog about that another time). And of course a good meal at a nice place with great friends is always an extra bonus.

But these past weeks have been tough on me- emotionally and physically- and a little God sent came in the mail today. As though God knew I needed a little something more than the usual "list of stuff" to keep me going given my upcoming schedule only gets worse from here on. My good friend Sha Sha sent two little books and a prettly card in the mail all the way from Brunei complete with fairy wishes and words of love and wisdom.

And I especially like what it says on the page of one of the books: Silence is perfect peace; ignore the phone just this once.

my own cheerleader garb

2007-05-28T17:19:00.000+08:00

I got this a while back from agent Ninja and agent Magpie as a belated wedding present and its an oh-so-cute, totally bimbotic tank top that I love so much.

I actually wore it the very next day to a huge shopping spree with Jo and she had a huge laugh at what I was wearing. I think it shaved about 10 years off my age which was quite a nice feeling. Actually met some students I knew while out wearing the tank once and they stared at me funny for a while- there goes my image! :) This is way overdue, but thanks Agents!

wedding: us

2007-05-27T21:12:00.000+08:00

I've been slacking off on wedding photos again and I have to blog this one of Rub and I with Sam, Jo, Oli, Hongliang and Jo's totally amazing and entertaining parents. Jo (the girl next to me) is one of my best friends and my oh-so-great wedding co-ordinator. Sam, the guy next to me on my other side, was my photographer and he did one heck of a job. These two people are not only phenomenal friends but very often, my lifeline.

blue black & grey

2007-05-26T15:43:00.000+08:00

Those of you that know me will know that I bruise easily. And given that I am also rather clumsy, its no wonder that I walk around with bruises here and there rather often. In fact, I usually have some sort of bruise on me at any point in time. Friends used to joke about my being abused.

Recently, with spate of outdoor stuff that I've been involved in have resulted in my getting way too many bruises to the extent i'm thinking twice about wearing short stuff. I know its a bimbotic thing to do and say but ah well... A girl's allowed to be vain every once in a while.

jungle beat

2007-05-24T15:20:00.000+08:00

It’s a Jungle Out There
by Max Lucado

The story is told of a man on an African safari deep in the jungle. The guide before him had a machete and was whacking away the tall weeds and thick underbrush. The traveler, wearied and hot, asked in frustration, “Where are we? Do you know where you are taking me? Where is the path?!” The seasoned guide stopped and looked back at the man and replied, “I am the path.”

We ask the same questions, don’t we? We ask God, “Where are you taking me? Where is the path?” And he, like the guide, doesn’t tell us. Oh, he may give us a hint or two, but that’s all. If he did, would we understand? Would we comprehend our location? No, like the traveler, we are unacquainted with this jungle. So rather than give us an answer, Jesus gives us a far greater gift. He gives us himself.

Does he remove the jungle? No, the vegetation is still thick.

Does he purge the predators? No, danger still lurks.

Jesus doesn’t give hope by changing the jungle; he restores our hope by giving us himself. And he has promised to stay until the very end. “I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matt. 28:20 NIV).

We need that reminder. We all need that reminder. For all of us need hope.

Some of you don’t need it right now. Your jungle has become a meadow and your journey a delight. If such is the case, congratulations. But remember—we do not know what tomorrow holds. We do not know where this road will lead. You may be one turn from a cemetery, from a hospital bed, from an empty house. You may be a bend in the road from a jungle.

And though you don’t need your hope restored today, you may tomorrow. And you need to know to whom to turn.

Or perhaps you do need hope today. You know you were not made for this place. You know you are not equipped. You want someone to lead you out.

If so, call out for your Shepherd. He knows your voice. And he’s just waiting for your request.

From Traveling Light
Copyright (W Publishing Group, 2001) Max Lucado

food poisoning

2007-05-15T23:28:00.000+08:00

I know I need to rest, I have enough people telling me that my body is going to crash on me big time soon enough- as though it hasn't already periodically done so (more on that another time).

But I don't like being MADE to rest because I ate something wrong. Food poisoning sucks. And to make matters even more histerically worse, I got it from eating at a hospital cafeteria! How absurd is that! I mean, if I had gotten ill from eating at some roadside stall (not that we have any in Singapore, really) or seafood or all the other "risky" stuff- fine. I got ill eating bean curd (tau kuar) and black egg (lu tan) from a kway chup stall.

So I've barely kept food in. The husband has been patiently trying to coax me into eating, my mother has served up "cheng-cheng" food after food. Nothing sticking.

Bleah.

ink inc.

2007-05-14T14:51:00.000+08:00

I love watching TV, most of you that know me already know that. And this is one of my all time favourites. The guys include one girl (Kat Von D) who's slated to get her own show called LA Ink. My personal favourite is Chris Garver (third from right) who's amazing at traditional japanese art and stuff. If I do get a tattoo (and I probably won't ever. My mom will personall skin me alive, regardless of my age) I'd get it from him. Yeah, I'd fly to Miami to get inked.

“Miami INK” takes viewers into the inside world of tattooing from the shop, to the artists, and their clients. Get an in depth look at the emotional stories behind the tattoos and the meaning people attach to them. People from all walks of life come for tattoos, from punk rock, to South Beach socialites, to celebrities.

The series follows four master artists, Ami James, the tough guy of the bunch, Chris Garver, Darren Brass, Chris Nuñez, and the apprentice Yojiro Harada. Ami, Darren, Chirs, and Garver met ten years ago when they all studied in Miami under the world famous tattoo artist, the late Lou Sciberras. During their apprenticeship they all lived and worked together becoming the best of friends. Eventually they went their separate ways and opened up their own tattoo parlors in Los Angeles, New York, Connecticut, and South Beach. Their dream was to one day reunite and open their own tattoo parlor together as partners." (from TV.com)

magnified

2007-05-12T23:19:00.000+08:00

Be Magnified (Randy Rothwell)

I have made You too small in my eyes
Oh Lord, forgive me
And I have believed in a lie
That You are unable to help me.
But now, Oh Lord, I see my wrong
Heal my heart and show Yourself strong
And in my eyes and with my song
Oh Lord, be magnified (bis)

Be magnified, Oh Lord
You are highly exalted
And there is nothing You can’t do
Oh Lord, my eyes are on You
Be magnified,
Oh Lord, be magnified

I have leaned on a wisdom of men
Oh Lord, (Please)forgive me
And I have responded to them
Instead of Your light and Your mercy
But now, Oh Lord, I see my wrong
Heal my heart and show yourself strong
And in my eyes and in my song
Oh Lord be magnified

where did it go?

2007-05-11T00:28:00.000+08:00

... we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless...
- Paul Bowles

what do you fear?

2007-05-09T21:01:00.000+08:00

‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination. It is our light more than our darkness which scares us. We ask ourselves – who are we to be brilliant, beautiful, talented, and fabulous. But honestly, who are you to not be so?

You are a child of God, small games do not work in this world. For those around us to feel peace, it is not example to make ourselves small. We were born to express the glory of god that lives in us. It is not in some of us, it is in all of us. While we allow our light to shine, we unconsciously give permission for others to do the same. When we liberate ourselves from our own fears, simply our presence may liberate others.’

- Marianne Williamson in Return to Love: Reflections on a Course in Miracles

Can you spell P-e-p-p-e-r?

2007-05-07T20:03:00.000+08:00

I never knew how far having a dash of Pepper could go.
(yeah, the ground one. White, black or peppercorn.)
Amazing...

flipped out

2007-05-06T15:28:00.000+08:00

The world looks so much better when you flip it on its head.

i'm looking at you

2007-05-04T22:21:00.000+08:00

To You,

Buzz off.
You're annoying.
And you're annoying me.
Oh, and you smell bad too.

Go away.
Now.

I call "Uncle"

2007-05-03T18:01:00.000+08:00

I used to be invincible.
At least I believed I was.
I don't think so anymore.

Over the last three days I've had a combined sleep of about 12 hours and while my eyes are holding up (Clarins eye gel, I swear by it) my body is barely making it and I'm beginning to feel- dare I say it- my age. Its like being on a threadmill and going and going and going and going and going.... gone...

me.

2007-05-03T17:17:00.000+08:00

Is this you?
In case you're wondering, that's me right now.

stretched

2007-05-01T08:12:00.000+08:00

s t r e t c h e d

Excuse me, are you stupid?

2007-04-30T19:07:00.000+08:00

This is a video about the smartest guys in the world.
Oh, this is so good.
YOU HAVE TO WATCH IT.

May: OMG

FAB family

2007-04-29T00:32:00.000+08:00

Its been a long time since I last heard from them and its oh-so-exciting to hear from them after such a long silence.

I've been dying to see how little Stacie looks and stuff given that she's about to turn 1 in july. And from what I gather, they'd be making a trip here at this year's end. Ohh, so exciting!

So, the FAB trio's doing great! And I'm so pleased that they are.

And I miss them.
Even the little one I've never met.

there will be tyranny...

2007-04-27T13:25:00.000+08:00

I can't wait!

differences

2007-04-26T08:58:00.000+08:00

“I know there is strength in the differences between us.
I know there is comfort where we overlap.”
- Ani Difranco

no more technophobe

2007-04-25T23:50:00.000+08:00

I would hardly call myself a Mac-vengalist though I do love the macs a great deal and I do tell people about the wonders of the Mac and stuff. Plus, I love the I'm-a-mac-I'm-a-Pc ads. Its hilarious. In fact, I have loved the Mac ads so far particualrly the one with the guy who sticks his tongue out at the old imac who "sticks" its CD holder out at him. Its clever as hell.

Now, not many of you might know this, but the reason why I switched to Macs years ago was because my Toshiba crashed on me so often it stopped being funny. The month before I started my honors year, I bought myself an ibook; which I should add is still in pretty good working condition and alive in my office till today. Its 5 years old and going strong. And I've sworn off the PCs; I feel like a retard when I have to use Windows and I avoid it as much as I can.

But today finally came when I had to cross over to the dark side. Sigh... It was an ordeal I don't particularly care to repeat.

You see, we needed to get a desktop for the office given the ones we have aren't doing so good so Rub and I braved the crowd and went down to Funan to pick up a desktop. We wanted it as basic, as stable, as- if I dare to say it- normal as possible. And so the nice computer guy patiently explained the computer specs and this and that and all the other computerspeak that went right over my head. The two of us just stood there and stared back at him as he blabbed on about pentium this, celeron that and windows XP this and Vista that, yahdah....yahdah... And after he went on for what I think was a long time, all we could say was... "Em, sorry, we're mac users. Just help us get a machine at $X amount with the basic-Y specs and the Z-stuff. And that's it."

And after we set it up in the office, I found myself looking at it- with a mix of disgust and disbelief- and going... "Oh my goodness... its ugly!"

oh please...

2007-04-23T18:31:00.000+08:00

I've been very discontent these days.
And angry.

It just seems that far too many things are happening and my tiny brain and megre emotional capacity cannot keep up. And I don't feel it often but sometimes I really think I need to give it all up and stop being responsible, stop feeling the intense need to be sensible, reasonable and rational. To rant and rail. To kick and scream. To make those that have been an annoyance pay dearly for their stupidity, insensitivity and selfishness. Its always something, someone, some-whatever whatever. Its annoying. Its frustrating. Its totally destabilizing.

Maybe I should name names and get them off and chest and out in the open in one fell swoop. They people will know who they are and can be forewarned about them. After all, some of them wear some sweet demeanors and masks and cloak themselves with the mantle of pity and and threats. Its tempting. Really. Particularly since I've done nothing to warrant these people doing what they did. Yeah, where these people are concerned, Rie really has the high ground- in all sense of the word.

So stop pretending you care. Stop pretending the world owes you something. Stop expecting a simple "sorry" makes any sort of difference when the actions that accompany it are incongruous. Stop expecting me to suck-it-up-and-deal. Stop expecting me to be ok. Stop expecting me to allow time to do its alledged magic and heal wounds and all that crap.

I'm not ok and I won't be for a long while. Not given my hands are half tied, you're stone-walling and perpectually trying to skirmish out of this, that or other; with some fancy mancy excuse that stinks. Not since I cannot hunt down these pain-in-the-necks and skin them for the world to see.

I can almost hear my mother's chant to forgive and forget. I've never been very good with both. For some I have an obligation to work on them, for others, I don't even have to try.

Ps: Don't call/sms/write to ask if I'm ok. I'm not.

the grand sum total

2007-04-22T02:02:00.000+08:00

Sigh.

the americans got something right

2007-04-20T00:29:00.000+08:00

The American's got it right. We often hear the little modern adage and saying about banks and at on little plaques at point-of-sales counters: In God we trust, all others pay cash. Trust is a big word that we so often hear and throw about, sometimes so carelessly and flippantly, but yet, its a word most of us can hardly grasp. Its a deep word that has is so multi-layered we try and peel and discover but there are always still more layers. It is so multi-faceted we find minds spinning off tangents that it puts the great MC Escher to shame.

Trust. TRUST. Trust. Trust. Trust. Trust. ~~Trust.~~ trust.

Its a mind boggling word no matter how you look at it, how you write it.

I once knew a girl who used to get herself in trouble because she trusts so easily. Every guy, every friend, every occassion: she's somehow able to always trust in people. Always ready and willing to take their word at face value. Always willing to give the benefit of doubt and to the other person. To trust. To believe that promises made would be kept without question, to believe that people were innately good, kind and all the other soppy stuff that goes with the "you are trustworthy" turf. To her, Trust is simply given- up front with no strings attached.

Then there are the lot of us who come from the opposing camp. The "trust needs to be earned" camp. Maybe due to past experiences, previous occassions of personal betrayals and disappointments. We look for and read all the fine print and hidden agendas. We scrutinise and constantly weigh and measure the things, events, words and the people around us. Its a reflex, almost, an enduing battle scar from our past disappointments, our innate cynicism, our jadedness or, as my friend Pete says, our life experiences.

And all hell breaks loose when a carefully built up Trust is shattered. When a grave promise is renegaded upon. When someone we love takes our love, our faith and our Trust and throws it back in our faces. It knocks us off our feet. It winds us. It crushes us. It blows our mind. It leaves us angry, pained and lost. It makes us feel the wieght of our human-ness. It amplifies our inadequacies and magnifies our insecurities. It stuns the system and leaves us speechless. It sometimes even cripples us: physically, emotionally. And in its own way, it changes us. Forever, and then some.

And, it brings us to our knees.

And sometimes, that's exactly where we need to be.

photos: the uni gang

2007-04-19T00:33:00.000+08:00

My uni life pretty much passed in a haze with me barely remembering the first three years of school. I think its because I didn't really have a class and was basically rather anti-social. All I recall of those three years were loads of time spent and wasted at the canteen with my JC classmates who pretty much all came to arts and socie with me.

Loads changed in my final and honours year: I finally had proper classes and claassmates and made some of the best friends in my life. I'm sure I could find the picture if I dug deep and hard enough, but one time Karyn and I bought face paint and painted everyone's faces and sat through our Elections class with stuff drawn all over our face, arms and bodies. How we actually got away with it- I scarce remember. They were the ones who panicked with me over thesis deadlines, essays and stacks of un-read notes (except Ms Wang who always seemed to be able to do everything. Then again, she's gone to John Hopkins and stuff and is widely considered the smartest friend I know.) Then came the Saturday French classes.... but lets not go there.

It was a fun time guys. Still is. Hugs.

clarity

2007-04-17T21:54:00.000+08:00

" Some people hear their own inner voices
with great clearness
and they live by what they hear.
Such people become crazy,
or they become legends."
- One Stab, Legends of the falls

photos: agents

2007-04-15T09:30:00.000+08:00

Those of you who know me, you'd know that I'm a huge Alias fan and my friends and I have secret agent code names for each other. Not everyone in the photo are agents but oh well, most of you are anyway.

To agent Skeletor: We are very pleased you have started the "journey".
To agent Vodka: You should come along for the ride, once you've come out of hibernation

What a child is meant to be

2007-04-14T15:16:00.000+08:00

In my weakness I find
That Your strength knows no bounds.
And in my loneliness I find
That the everlasting arms surround me.
And even with this fragile heart
I find a place to rest here,
Safe where You are...
And I am falling into grace again
And I am running where mercy never ends
Lord I'm learning that Your love can cover me
You are teaching me-
What a child is meant to be
- Vineyard

photo: debaters

2007-04-13T11:27:00.000+08:00

I know its been months since I got married and many of you have asked me about photos and such. I'm not really good with these things, in fact, its only recently that I got it all sorted out and printed though my very wonderful photographers were oh-so-prompt with passing them to me. I had the best photographers, really. If you're waiting to see the whole shebang of photos please know that its going to take a long while; its currently being circulated amongst relatives and stuff.

In any case, I've decided that if I were to attempt to print for each of you (you know who you are) it'd take forever. So, instead, I'm just going to periodically post them up here and send you and SMS/email about it so you can go see. I've considered using an online photo-hosting thing- its too much hassle.

So, first: my debaters. :)

disclaimer

2007-04-11T00:13:00.000+08:00

Its a phrase we all hate, but its a phase we all love to throw around. Its the ultimate disclaimer, the big end Fuck-You, the sentence that seems to absolve us of all the "bad stuff" that happens. It says, "you know what my friend, all the shit that's happening now is on you with a capital YOU; because while I am part of this really messed up equation, I'm absolved of all sins because (wait for it, here it comes...) I told you so."

As kids we fall and our parents snidely say, "See, what did I say about running? Told you you'd fall right? See!" Its a Fuck-You-fault's-all-you phase. Loving at the heart of things, but still the same meaning. As teens we mess up, fail our exams, screw up parts of our lives and teachers, mentors and other authority figures glare at us and, usually with some grimace or snide tone of voice:" See, told you so. If only you studied harder, worked harder, played lesser, grew up..." Again, its a Fuck-You-fault's-all-you phase. Again, often said with the air of superiority and impatience. As adults we bungle and stumble and our bosses, colleagues and friends say, "Told you so. Told you that guy was a bastard. Told you that girl was a gold digger. Told you you should have taken that job/ left that job earlier. Told you... told you... told you..." Once again, its a Fuck-You-fault's-all-you phase. Only this time sometimes its partnered with a tad of gloating, loads more superiority and tons more rolling of eyes. Oh, and carts full of bitching behind your back.

In my life, I've had my fair share of people uttering that blasted phase at me. I'm sure I'm guilty of saying it to others to (and for that I'm sorry.... ) cos the fact is: it does nothing than make a bad situation worse. It does little more than allow the sayer to shirk some measure- no matter how small- of responsibility. It absolves the guilty and shifts the guilt/blame to the one who's actually suffering the most. Its the most unfair endgame- like an errant child throwing a tantrum and stomps off as he's losing and then declaring "I'm not playing this game- its stupid. You're all stupid." And that supposedly makes him look ok.

Its the ultimate disclaimer. Really.
For those that would not take responsibility.
How very convenient.

finally...

2007-04-10T10:06:00.000+08:00

After going back and forth for I'm not sure how long, the two kiddies finally got together. Ok, they are not exactly kiddies but anyone who's not in their twenties and beyond are considered kiddies to me right now.)

E & C: good on ya!

sick

2007-04-09T16:03:00.000+08:00

Its finally happened. I'm sick.
Don't quite get it: Was fine last night.
Woke up to a sandpaper throat.
A pounding headache.
Clammy skin and shivers.
Aches all over and a fever.
Doc says its a general infection.
Not flu, or anything normal like that.
No antibiotics to help.
Body just needs to heal by it self.
He suggested taking 2 weeks off.
I burst out laughing in his office.

my boys in silver

2007-04-08T18:11:00.000+08:00

This Formula 1 season has been a new experience for me. For one, Michael Shumacher (otherwise known as Celine Dion) is not racing which makes me one little happy camper. People have always mistaken me to be an anti-ferrari fan and alllow me to set the record straight: I do like their cars, their seamless teamwork and impeccable racing strategy. I've loved their cars (F1 and the roadsters). Really. I just don't like Mr. Celine Dion. I mean, I give that he's a good driver but, that's as far as I'd go.

So, when this season began without Ms Dion, and with one of my favourites Kimi joining the Reds, its been a tough choice for me. Do I defect and support the ice-cool Finn whom's I've rooted for for the past few seasons? Or do I continue with the Silver Arrows whom I've loved since the time of the great Aryton Senna (I even named one of my dogs after him, another after Mansell and yet another Schikane- at the height of my F1 craze) though I'm not that huge an Alonso fan?

But over the last two races, I've tried to be neutral about things, to root for "the better driver" and stuff like that. You know, watch the race sitting on the fence and being "objective". Thing is, while I was truly happy Kimi took home the prize at the opening race, I still rued that Macs sat on second and third. I was "happy" but controlledly so. But this week, after willing the Macs to a one-two finish, with Kimi boy in third I was totally floored. While there was a part of me that would be ok if Kimi won this last Sepang race, truth is, you can't take away years of being a Mac fan.

I don't mind the boys in Red. But I still love my boys in Silver more.

dino matrix

2007-04-06T02:00:00.000+08:00

I had dinner with an old friend the other day after what seems like too long a time. The last time we met up properly was eons ago sometime mid last year. Then, technically, we met up at my wedding- but you can hardly count that given all the halabaloo that ensued that day. But finally, after being- unforgivingly too busy (its always an excuse with us these days eh?) we finally did get to catch up over Avocado shakes and good old Indonesian curry.

And over the must-have catch ups on the "what's happening in your life now and at work, blah, blah, blah" we got talking about "The Matrix" and how many of us spend our lives emeshed in some matrix or other and its a comfortable place where we live by certain rules and guidelines and worship some over-inflatedl yet ephemeral sense of Self. Of believing we can play God. Believing in that that sounds good to us, regardless of how unreal, how false and how deluded it might be. Because, after all, we like hearing the good stuff, we like knowing that we can fix our problems and win all the accolades we might desire- if only we believed in it long enough, hard enough and if we have people around us that champion them for us along the way.

I like what he says about living in the Matrix. There're always going to be people wanting to live in the Matrix simply because the Matrix exists. And there are people who can only survive in the Matrix because taking the pill and living in Zion is simply too stark, too real, too difficult. And that's ok. For the rest who keeps questioning and probing, who are not afraid to take the road untravelled or less travelled, who know that sometimes the truth does hurt: its ok to sometimes want to go back to the Matrix. Just be proud you've stuck to your guns and learnt to see what's really there.

what's forever?

2007-04-03T21:54:00.000+08:00

"Forever turned out to be too long."
- Susannah, Ledgend of the falls

Pooh and friends

2007-03-24T04:04:00.000+08:00

May and I had one of our late night outings to halfway-around-the-world, and inveriably along the way we engage in the most innane of conversation topics. Actually, we do talk a lot of sense most of the time- like we discuss the ideals of social contribution and what not. But other times, we digress into one of our out-of-the-park discussions where very often I learn new stuff about my old friend that I never before did.

Tonight I learnt two startling facts:
1. May has NEVER been to Zouk.
2. May does not know who the Winnie the Pooh characters are.

Now, while I find the former strange, I remain totally stunned at the latter. So, May, just for you: a Winnie the Pooh crash course.

(From left to right in top photo)
A. The yellow rabbit is called Rabbit.
B. This is not "the pig thing" but Piglet. (He's Pooh's gay lover, that's what I think anyway.)
C. Pooh bear himself. (Him, I think you know...)
D. That's Tigger. Not the "Tiger-Tiger person".
E. The donkey is Eeyore. (You're right he's a tad depressed all the time.)
F. The joey is called Roo
G. That's "Kanga" of the Kangaroo pair. She's the mom.

(In second photo)
H. The big owl looking thing is Owl. (Name's not very inventive, I know.)
I. The boy's Christopher Robin. He's the only human in the show.
J. And, I don't know who the mole is. Mr Mole maybe?

you win

2007-03-23T23:28:00.000+08:00

You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win. You win.

I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up.

Happy now?

nemo

2007-03-22T08:50:00.000+08:00

Isn't it funny how we can never find what we're looking for?

all falls apart

2007-03-19T18:51:00.000+08:00

"She was like the water that freezes inside a rock and breaks it apart.
It was no more her fault than it is the fault of the water when the rock shatters. "
- One Stab, Legends of the falls

no sweat please

2007-03-18T19:22:00.000+08:00

I don't have a problem with sweaty men- that's my second sister who champions with a vehemence that would surprise the staunchest freedom fighter the anti-men-sweat movement. For some reason sweaty men reall turns her off. That's rather strange given our dad does tend to sweat quite a bit especially whilst eating curry or chillied food; I alway thought that's a normal bodily mechanism at work and no one should reallly be faulted for it but she has always run by her own rules anyway.

Again, I say, I don't have an issue with sweaty men. Until today.

You see, generally I don't attend classes at my gym but I did today (body combat class), just for the heck of it. And I had the utter misfortune to stand next to this guy (looks like an army boy type) who decidedly sweat ALOT. Now, I understand that it is inevitable to sweat quite a fair bit in a high cardio class like Body Combat but, hello!!!?? that's what towels are for! This idiot not only had bad body odour that got progressively worse as the class wore on but refused to clean up his sweat and ended up flinging flickers of sweat on me and the girls around me. I mean, look, that's why there are these 30sec breather windows in between sets: its for you to water up and mop up.

So, please, all you gym rats.... do consider having a tad more gym etiquette. Cleaning up after yourself, mopping up sweat is not rocket science. Really.

stupid people

2007-03-16T16:55:00.000+08:00

This post speaks for itself.

useless stuff

2007-03-11T12:16:00.000+08:00

Some of us are horders, we like to collect and keep things like old birthday cards, souvenirs and too-small-clothing that we swear we'd work towards by signing up for the gym and stuff. Like magpies. I know some friends who horde their old university notes and essays, others that store mounds upon mounds of photographs in little shoe boxes- forever swearing to sort through them. Then there are others who have stacks and stacks of CDs (some even, alphabeticised) and the list continues.

Over the last few years, I've pretty much trained myself to not get sentimental about these things: I've cleaned my mountain of old mail/cards/letters, my old clothes (its all very streamlined now) and even all the knick knacks that I've gathered over the years. But its been hard of getting a grip on "useless friends." You know the types: the kind that you can never count on to get your back, to be there, to at critical junctures put you first. There's always the fervent promises, the guarantees and the apologies; there's always the swearing that they'd make an effort and that they understand. And there's always that oh-so-faint glimmer of hope that they'd clean up and make good on their pretty words... but they'd be weighed and they'd be measured and they are always found wanting.

And then, once we cannot find anymore good reason, once the proverbial straw breaks the camel's back, its a bit too late to make amends. After all, all they can offer are facnciful thoughts and pretty words. Those are just no longer enough.

Because your heart is tired. From wanting to believe and from always being disappointed.

down under

2007-03-08T14:51:00.000+08:00

Celi and I recently went down under- Perth- to stay with Baby El and his totally-adorable Pixie Piglet over the Chinese New Year. Its been a madhouse of a past year for me and my schdule does not look like its bating. It was a much needed respite from the grind of demands and deadlines. So, on a whimp and fancy we booked tickets from that Zuji place (I look back and wondered why I didn't think of exchanging my dad's frequent flyer points given I chalked up alot when I billed my five-figure wedding to his frequent flyer card so that I may one day use the fly points).

In any case, we had a riot of a time. We booked out own little car and drove about armed with a handful of Perth tourist brochures and a street directory. Its Perth so we didn't really need a plan though Baby El and Pixie Piglet were kind enough to point us in directions that they thought would interest us. We did the usual touristy stuff like carry Koalas (actually Celi did, not I) and visit (over 2 days) the Fremental prison where we went for their tunnel tour (we had to row our own boat and stuff) and venture to their gorgeous beaches.

People like to assume that my little sorjourn overseas did me loads of good to my psyche and health- it did, somewhat. At least whilst I was there, it was good not to have to worry about training, consults and the mountain of stuff I'm needed for. But, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't filled with magic moments: the home-made roasted lamb dinner, the giggly times of four-men crossword puzzles, the lazy days of feral beers and vineyards, the long drives to nowhere and the mindless hunt for mazes, strawberry farms and Archer the dog. Then, there are the mornings of battling the cryptic lock and branch at the cafe, then there are the nights of guitar and soulful barritone singing, simple sighs of friendship.

pants on fire anyone?

2007-03-04T00:18:00.000+08:00

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
- Virginia Woolfe

letting go

2007-02-07T13:21:00.000+08:00

I'm giving you my heart, And all that is within,
I'm laying it all down, For the sake of you my king
I'm giving you my dreams, I'm laying down my rights
I'm giving up my pride, For the promise of new live
And I surrender it all to you, all to you
And I surrender it all to you, all to you
I'm singing you this song, I'm waiting at the cross
And all the world holds still, Counting all that love
The sake of knowing you, The glory of your name
To know the lasting joy, Even sharing in your past
And I surrender it all to you, all to you

something to look forward to...

2007-02-02T23:19:00.000+08:00

I'm so excited!

tired.

2007-01-31T21:38:00.000+08:00

Just really need some rest. Some semblance of sanity, peace and good-ole alone-time. I don't want to have to deal with excuses, stupid people or the overwhelming barrage of new projects, current works-in-progress and the million other things that need my attention. I don't want to hear empty promises that are there simply to mollify me for the while, hoping that once the episode passes I'd forget. I rarely forget. There seems to always be more important things, more pressing things, things with sacred deadlines that take precedence over me: my health, my spirit, my needs. I tired of having to be responsible and perfect. To do the adult thing and be understanding, be reasonable, be rational, to be ok with always putting people's needs ahead of mine; and still smile and grit my teeth and say its ok. I'm tired; and sick of people pretending they know what's best for me, telling me its important for me to pace myself, to take a break. I know what I want and what I need to do- being able to do it is a whole other matter.

For those of you that have been my refuge- you know who you are- thanks. God blessed me richly with friends like you.
For the rest, just leave me alone for a while ok? This girl is tired.

the leaking pail

2007-01-21T17:35:00.000+08:00

Consider this: you have a pail that you've always relied on to carry water in. Its your water pail. You love this water pail. Insofar, this water pail has never failed you. Whenever you need it to store/carry/fetch water it always delivers. It always- uncomplainingly- get the job done.

Then one day, perhaps due to overuse, perhaps due to natural attrition or maybe even to sheer human carelessness and tardiness- or mostly likely a combination of them all- your beloved water pail sustains a crack. Now, its not a particularly large crack and water pretty much trickles out. For all intents and purposes, its still functional and you continue to use and some might say abuse it. You continue to top its load each time, you make more and more trips with the pail. Sure you keep an eye on the little crack in the pail every now and then but you don't pay too much mind to it. After all, your water pail has never failed you. And, as you blindly believe, it never will.

But with the continued stress, pressure and sheer exertion of the pail, what was a tiny crack widens into a hole. But still you continue to use the pail. Sure, water leaks out at 4 cups per minute so you fill the pail with extra 4 cups of water per minute. After all, theoretically, you're putting in what is taken out. And for a while that suffices. Then you realise that transporation gives rise to greater wear and tear and soon your "replacement" is no longer sufficient. So, you cleverly up the replacement. You put in 5 cups more per minute in a bid to stymie the water loss and to have the extra 1 cup for "good measure". To top it off, you paste a huge piece of masking tape to reinforce the weakened cracked area. And for a while, you rest easy, because the pail seems to be coping, at least the water level is holding and it seems to be full most of the time anyway. And you say to yourself you'd finally fix the pail properly... when you have the time.

But there are always more important things, things with deadlines and things that appear to shout so loudly the soft whimperings of your pail gets drowned out. Its not that the pail is unimportant, but it is hardly pressing. Or so you think. Then, time, pressure and the natural attrition that surrounds your precious water pail takes it toll. And before you know it, before you have time to catch it, make proper amends, to give it the attention it actually needs... the pail gives way. So absolutely, so total; its beyond repair. Its damaged beyond saving. Irreparable. Oh, you do your best to glue and fix it back together. You fret and sigh and run through the list of "what ifs".

Nothing changes the fact. Sometimes we lucky and get two, or even three chances to get things right. Mostly, we get only one shot. And then we find ourselves sweeping the pieces up of what's important, staring at the dust of what's precious, having to let go of what's truly imperative... But by then, isn't it already too late?

taking sides

2007-01-14T02:47:00.000+08:00

When I was in university I took a course in diplomacy. A course that went into the depths and breaths of how to manage warring factions, competing interests and other arbitration matters. It was a popular course, I think for two reasons. One, the lecturer was top notch- for the discerning and the privvy, she's a student of the great John Rawls. And secondly, it was an interesting course: you got to study old but landmark cases, learn the innings and outs of this tenuous game that politicians and statesman have been playing since the beginning of man's quest for power. We went through diplomacy-dispute models, looked at negotiation strategies and discussed and debated the ethics, gamesmanship and endgames of diplomacy.

The thing with diplomacy is: there never is a right or wrong side. There is no such thing as a win-win outcome; not really anyway. Its either one side concedes some part or the other; or parties get stymied in the endless rounds of discussions and offers, more discussions and counteroffers that really, no one really goes anywhere. And with most diplomatic endeavors, there usually is a negotiator, an arbiter or sorts, if you will, who does his darndest to balance the yin and yang of the whole situation.

But here's the real truth. First, these negotiators have an agenda, which is really ok because it'd be nice to reap the benefits of a amicable settlement between parties. Second, these negotiators have a side they prefer, even if the preference is slight, unconscious and perhaps out of loyalty of one party over another. Third, these negotiators need to convince everyone involved that they are truly neutral, that much as they might stand to gain with a favourable outcome, they really are not rooting one over another.

Let's face it. We are humans with nuances, feelings and the ability- some say disability- to make some sort of cognitive, emotional evaluation for ourselves in any situation. We might think we really can't decide, but the fact is we are all born with innate preferences, inclinations and beliefs. Much as we like to think we are really capable of being neutral. Come on, even parents' have favourites. And so we try. We try to sit on the fence. We try to be everyone's friend. We try to make nice-nice. We try to remain impartial. In matters that are sometimes fact-based, largely emotion-driven, surely didactic and dynamic and always with never sufficient information.

You see, my friends, therein lies the rub: we can do our best to stay impartial. To not take sides, to sit on the fence, to kick it into neutral gear. We can convince ourselves, even, that we are doing one heck of a job. But to not take sides is to take a side. To not make a choice is to make a choice. To stay neutral, stubbornly outside of the killzone is hardly a guarantee that you'd be spared the visages of battlement... however good your intent.

I remember a verse that suggests we be either hot or cold, but never lukewarm lest God spits you out of His mouth (Rev 3:16). This was, of course, said in relation to being passionate or dispassionate about God. But I think it applies to our lives as well.

I've picked a side: have you?

not so fair, my lady

2007-01-08T23:08:00.000+08:00

By an large, I like musicals. I've watched a fair few musicals- international and local- before and I've generally enjoyed the experience. To be honest, I'm partial towards plays (I still rate "The woman in black" as one of THE best plays I've ever watched) but I always enjoy a good musical. Its usually a pretty entertaining experience.

Last Saturday the whole family went to watch "My Fair Lady"- dad scored us tickets. And I don't care how worldclass or award-winning this "version" is supposed to be- it was the by far the most boring, innane musical experience I've ever had to endure. The singing was sub-standard, the lead had the most annyoying whine/twinge (I don't know the exact musical term. Note to self: Ask Debbie) to her voice, the accents of old riff-raff England was terrible and I felt every single second of the almost three hours we spent in the theatre.

Let's put it this way, the best part of the whole ordeal- other than the curtain call- was the part when Professor Higgins offered to eat half of the chocolate he gave Elisa Doolittle after she says it might be drugged and a boy in the audience went (with unplanned but perfect, almost comedic, timing) "Ew...."

the last day of the year: 2006

2006-12-31T15:58:00.000+08:00

I don't know about you, but, for me, the past year has zipped by quicker than I could possibly imagine. It was as though God had my life on fast-forward. I've been barely able to catch my breath; or really, fully, appreciate each moment that comes by. Its been a whirlwind of year; its Rie on hyperdrive mode and all systems go-go-GO! To say its been a mad rush, is an understatement.

Yet, though this warp-time/speed hulabaloo of a year, I think i've grown the most, learnt the most, experienced the most. Its been a year of jammed-packed emotions and motions, of big decisions and life moments and of great lessons and greater blessings.

The year started on shaky terms, immense emotional distress and far too much uncertainty. But as Dickens would say, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.The will of God will never send you where the grace of God cannot keep you. Its an easy line to quote, really, but a tough one to live by. It was a time of spiritual renewal for me, of going back to God and revisiting who I was, what I stood for. It was a time where God stepped in to clean up my mess and good friends stood by me, held my hand, kept me sane.

It was a crash course in learning, in growing and in humility all rolled into one action-packed year. Someone asked me one time, "Cherie, how do you know you've finally grown up?" I didn't know the answer then, but I do now: You know you're a grown up when you can admit you don't know alot of things... and its ok.

Pre-grown up time, ( I say "pre-grown up" rather than "teenage years" cos some teens are grown ups and some adults are not), you have the impression that you know everything, can handle anything, you're invinsible. The fact is, at least in my experience, there's way too much I don't yet know; far too many things I've still to learn and its alright to say "I don't know" and ask silly questions.

Its been a time of milestones as well. A time of change and new beginnings for me, the family and friends. Rie and Ruben got married. Olivia and Honliang got married. Elaine got hitched too, amongst others. Cecilia got her driving license. Mariann graduated from primary school. Clary went off to read Law in King's, her second degree. Ethel moved away. Joan and Terence had baby Clare. Ben and Faith had a baby Anastacia. Tammy and Jr added baby Twila to the mix. Rie gave her first all-mandarin training to China/Taiwan CEOs and CFOs and pulled it off. Mariann got her ears pierced. May ran in the StandChart 10k race. Cooper joined the family. Moosey died. Rie spoke at a General Elections forum alongside actual politicians whom she studied about. She then went on to do two mandarin radio interviews. Mum signed her first painting. Kimmy went to big school then bravely stopped going. Gave the ok to my team to stand ground and tell an incorrigible client to buzz off- we did it politely of course- and learnt what intergrity, ethics and pride was all about.

Oh, the list continues... the learning continues... time moves on...

There has been much laughter, some tears; often a mix of both, really. There's been good times, some not so good ones and moments of absolute mundaneness its almost laughable. There has been personal acheivements and personal bests; and personal hurdles, grave lessons and humbled moments. Its been a time of renewal, renewed friendships and revived purposefulness; it has also been a time of questioning, farewells and the letting go of kites that have been tettered for far too long. It has been opening of chapters, closing of some and the continued writing of others. Its been a year of taking sides, closing ranks, about turns and standing ground.

Thanks to you all who have been such a blessing: I love you loads.

The clock is ticking and soon 2007 will be here and in will come a new year of much much more.

I can hardly wait.... :)

little boy grown up

2006-12-29T12:44:00.000+08:00

Few days back I received a package in the mail from and old friend that made we smile- which, might I add, can be rather few and far between given my silly schedule that wouldn't let up. Now, I don't think I've really posted pix of half-naked men on my blog before, but I'll make an exception today.

You see, other than my own sisters, only three other people call me "Jie". (Actually, Celia calls me "chair" but that's another story for another day.) One's Joel who, in all honesty, I hardly see given he's off studying and taking over the world overseas. The second is Shasha- possibly one of the extremely vivacious, incredibly smart, totally out-of-this-world-cool chicks I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

And the third is Timmy Boy (Timothy John to be precise, he's the one who's face is splashed in the pix in this post) waterpolo extraordinaire, Cleo Eligible Bachelor nominee (he won some award or other, I can't recall which), SMU ambassador and from what I've gathered Mr Popular/Sexy all rolled into one hot, tight package.

We go back a long way, close to 10 years, and over the years I've missedd far too many of his waterpolo matches (truth be told, I've only watched one match, his team won); I've been the here-and there-sometimes available-sometimes-absent "older" sister; I've seen him wade through the murky waters of boy-dom (read: all the nonsense in school, with girls and what not) and and seen this boy grown into a strapping young lad. (How English does that sound?!) Yes, little Timmy Boy's all grown up.

So Tim, thanks for the years of friendship, for the kind thoughts and sweet note. And yes, I am incredibly proud of you: for "staying in shape", for staying the course (a few detours non-barring) and for making me smile. :) hugs my dear.

outside looking in

2006-12-28T23:50:00.000+08:00

I'm sure you know the feeling. You know, that tiny creep at the back of your neck and in the space between your spine that speaks not about who you are, but where you are. Time. Space. Place. There's a scene happening; many scenes and many happenings all about and around. There's alot of activity and there you are plugging away- fulfilling your role and responsibility in the grand cosmic plan of "doing things." And you are busy; time flies and energy is expended. A lot of it actually. And you smile and grin and talk and plan and you can even laugh and make sense.

But you're not plugged in. Not really. Like you are set apart: part of whole deal, but not really part of it. Its like being caught in some strange Agatha Christie novel- unwantingly. And you wonder if there's even such a word. Is there? Maybe. Maybe not- but there is in your world.

You are on the outside. Staring in. Staring about. And yet strangely, people think you're part of the happening. Part of the daily maisma that pervades, partakes and perseveres. Lit students call that an alliteration. You call it your daily grind. You huff, you puff and you build and blow the houses up and down. You race, you rock and speed up and slow down all at the same time.

Nothing makes sense. Everything makes sense.

And you are on the outside looking in. At you.
Senselessly plugging away. Withering. Prentending.
Staring- sometimes blindly. Sometimes at You, staring from the outside.
Looking in.

My blinged up cooper

2006-12-26T00:11:00.000+08:00

My Christmas stash gets smaller and smaller each year to be honest, not that I'm complaining really. Pretty much, cos, the pile I give out these days is significantly less than the lot I haul about previously. Then again, compared to my mum who used to give presents to half the known world (if you didn't get it, its cos you were part of the "unknown world"- duh!) my Christmas thingamajig is child's play. My sis and I used to get roped in to wrap tons and tons of presents for people till we pretty much puked wrapping paper and sneezed scotchtape.

But I'm all good with the "newly revised" christmas list really. Especially when the stash I pick up includes cute little toy-versions of my dog. I already have a bee-bee toy dog; my mum got it for my sillycar when Bee (my oh-so-cute-cocker-spaniel was born) and it sits on the dashboard of my car. And now Mich has added a Cooper- blinged up no less- to the mix.

The girls and I were coffee-ing and exchanging presents the other day and May and I came up with this video showcasing my dog that is... wait for it babes... DA BOMB!

Christmas wishes

2006-12-25T00:15:00.000+08:00

Blessed Christmas everyone. :)

This is the day

2006-12-24T23:48:00.000+08:00

This is the day
By Scott Wesley Brown

This is the day that the Lord hath made
And I’m so glad He made you
With each rising sun you are here by my side
You are more than a dream come true

Oh, to have you, to hold you, to love you, to pray
To share with, to care with, to hold hands and say

This is the day that the Lord hath made
And I will rejoice, I will rejoice
I will rejoice with you

This is the love that the Lord hath made
That you and I, we are one
Love's mystery is unfolding today
Written for us in the sun

Oh, for better, for worse, for rich or for poor
Each day that passes, I love you more

Cause this is the day that the Lord hath made
And I will rejoice, I will rejoice
I will rejoice with you
This is the day

moose

2006-12-21T00:21:00.000+08:00

His name was Moose and he was never really ours; not for a long time anyway.

Moose was like a guest that became a friend, but always, in his own way- to me at least- remained a guest. But one that we loved and cared for a great deal; even if a great deal of it was at a distance, from afar.

Rest well dear Moosey, for even if your name is no longer so and you probably speak better mandarin than I do, we love you. In my world, all dogs go to heaven...

*ruff*

drifting

2006-12-20T23:31:00.000+08:00

Many people have this idea that I have loads of friends. I mean, *ahem* I was a cheerleader in the cheerleader and jock club once upon a time. And this past year, I've probably met more new people this year than most of the other years- in terms of new aquaintances and new "outer circle" friends.

But the funny thing is, I'm not any closer to any of them. Instead its been a lot of renewing of old friendships; rekindling old memories and spending many a good hour reminising with old friends. My circle of friends have solidified somewhat, I have a better measure of who my close friends are: you know, those that you can call at 4 in the morning in tears and they'd patiently hear you out. Or those that can spend hours just doing nothing with, the kind you can sit with in silence and talk about nothing and everything and anything.

And I guess, some would think, the more the merrier. It just isn't the case for me. And I feel so richly blessed because of it.

rainy days...

2006-12-19T11:54:00.000+08:00

I've always loved it when it rains.

I'm not what you call the "go run outside and stand in the rain with arms out splayed" yelling about how I'm communing with nature and stuff like that. But I love it when it rains. I love it even if my shoes and socks get wet. I love how the thunder claps and the bolts of lightning splits everything, lights up everything; especially at night. Even if it jolts me out of bed. I love seeing the puddles on the ground and if decorum permits, I'd jump in them. (If I splash my sister nearby, all the better. Don't fret, she'd do the same back.)

I love it particularly cos it makes cosying and cuddling all the sweeter and sleep all the more satisfying. I love how my mum has this incessant need to make steamboat or porridge each time it pours- as though our soul and body needs to be soothe. (I personally hate steamboat, unless its shabu shabu. And am not a particular porridge fan, but ah well...) I love how the dogs go a tad whiny and feel this instinctive need to lay at your feet and place their heads on your lap.

I love most of all, how I can not make my trip to the gym and blame it on the weather rather than my laziness.

sigh...

2006-12-18T18:53:00.000+08:00

southernladies

2006-12-15T16:55:00.000+08:00

Cherie.Dawn.Ruth.Ethel.Debbie.
Its been a long journey my dears.
There's still ways more to go.
Thank God you guys are around.
Miss ya. Loads.

the foreign species

2006-12-13T18:58:00.000+08:00

A girlfriend and I were having a conversation about men the other day. Not the how-is-your-boyfriend-doing-oh-he's-fine-how-is-your-husband-doing kind of conversation. I suppose, you can say, we were having a discussion about men: a logical (as logical as two women can be after a glass of martini), fact/research based discussion about the ins and outs of men-dom and how little we actually get this other species.

8 things you'll never hear a man say:
8) Here honey, you use the remote.
7) You know, I'd like to see her again, but her breasts are just too big.
6) Ooh, Antonio Banderas AND Brad Pitt? That's one movie I gotta see!
5) While I'm up, can I get you anything?
4) Sex isn't that important, sometimes I just want to be held.
3) Aww, forget Monday night football, let's watch Grey's Anatomy
2) Hey, let me hold your purse while you try that on.
1) We never talk anymore.

8 things you'll never hear a woman say:
8) What do you mean today's our anniversary?
7) Can we not talk to each other tonight? I'd rather just watch TV.
6) Ohh, this diamond is way too big!
5) Can our relationship get a little more physical? I'm tired of being 'just friends'
4) Honey, does this outfit make my butt look too small?
3) Aww, don't stop for directions, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out how to get there.
2) I don't care if it's on sale, 300 dollars is way too much for a designer dress.
1) Hey, pull my finger!

We just function differently, don't we?
NICKNAMES: If Gloria, Suzanne, Debra and Michelle go out for lunch, they will call each other Gloria, Suzanne, Debra and Michelle. But if Mike, Phil, Rob and Jack go out for a brewsky, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Godzilla, Peanut-Head and Useless.

EATING OUT: And when the check comes, Mike, Phil, Rob and Jack will each throw in $20 bills, even though it’s only for $22.50. None of them will have anything smaller, and none will actually admit they want change back. When the girls get their check, out come the pocket calculators.

BATHROOMS: A man has six items in his bathroom-a toothbrush, shaving cream, razor, a bar of Dial soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn. The average number of items in the typical woman’s bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.

GROCERIES: A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes out to the store and buys these things. A man waits till the only items left in his fridge are half a lime and a soda. Then he goes grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. By the time a man reaches the checkout counter, his cart is packed tighter than the Clampett’s car on Beverly Hillbillies. Of course, this will not stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.

SHOES: When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, then slip on Reebok sneakers. She will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When a woman gets to work, she will put on her dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under the desk. A man will wear the same pair of shoes all day.

CATS: Women love cats. Men say they love cats, but when women aren’t looking, men kick cats.

DRESSING UP: A woman will dress up to: go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a book, get the mail. A man will dress up for: weddings, funerals.

LAUNDRY: Women do laundry every couple of days. A man will wear every article of clothing he owns, including his surgical pants that were hip about eight years ago, before he will do his laundry. When he is finally out of clothes, he will wear a dirty sweatshirt inside out, rent a U-Haul and take his mountain of clothes to the Laundromat. Men always expect to meet beautiful women at the Laundromat. This is a myth perpetuated by re-runs of old episodes of “Love, American Style.”

OFFSPRING: Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and soccer games and romances and best friends and favorite foods and secret fears and hopes and dreams. A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

not yet

2006-12-12T05:13:00.000+08:00

I don't want a piglet. Golden or not.
Its funny how all this works.
We live vicariouly one through another.
Some more bothersome & busybodied than others.

secret agent

2006-12-10T13:51:00.000+08:00

Agent Ninja. Agent Skeletor. Agent Cheerleader. Agent Magpie. Agent Vodka.
Agent Phoenix. Agent Freelance. Agent Mountaineer.
Agent Boy scout. Agent shotgun. Agent evergreen. Agent Mockingbird.

Those that get it, get it. Those that don't, don't.
Note to Agent Skeletor: I Love..... (you know the rest...)

Top Ten Things You NEVER Want to Hear on 'Alias'

10.Sark: "I'm really not a bad guy, I'm just misunderstood."
9. Jack: "There's something else I haven't told you."
8. Francie: "Syd, I have something to confess: I work for a place called K-Directorate."
7. Sydney: "I finished my paper early, Professor, and I did the extra credit as well."
6. Will: "That Agent Vaughn is one good-looking man."
5. Dixon: "Why are you always on Point?"
4. Sloan: "Sydney, you've earned a break. Absolutely no field work for six months."
3. Marshall: "Just take a big gun or something."
2. Irina: "Actually, I'm a Mountee. I was sent by Canada to pretend to be a KGB officer pretending to be an American housewife to steal secrets from the CIA."
1. Voice-Over-Guy: "Next week, Alias is a repeat."

step back in time

2006-12-09T23:04:00.000+08:00

Its been along time since I left JC and of all the institutions of learning that I've been in, I think my JC time was the one that shaped and molded me the most. Primary school was well, primary school full of childish wiles and kiddish dreams. I'm still friends with a sizable portion of my primary school mates- I even once dated one of them- but it was a time of fun, games and worrying about the PSLE. Which in the grand scheme of things is rather trival though I didn't think so at that time. Secondary school was a real eye-opener. Any former SCGS girl will tell you, it is the place that gives you your identity as a woman, as a person. I did for me anyway and the chance to go back to the school recently felt good. The recent passing awat of Aunty Nancy (the unniform tailor- in my time, all uniforms were specially tailormade rather than bought off the rack) and the Mee Pok Man actually still made me sad.

Still, for all my growing up in Primary school (Rosyth) and SCGS, it was JC (Anderson JC) that really saw me coming into my own. I discovered debating for one- which I must say truly revolutionized my life and career- and met some of the best people in the world. Other than my class girls whom I dearly love and totally enjoy hanging out with until today; these guys and girls (in the two pictures here) were my other source of entertainment, support and friendship. May calls us the Cheerleader and Jock Club; till today, I beg to differ. They've been great and its good to see everyone "all grown up." One's even on the way to having a baby!

Its amazing to see how much we've been able to cramp in between the last eight years. And how we've all grown. And yet, remained the same.

slip carefully

2006-12-08T18:48:00.000+08:00

Some people have the funniest signs.

right.

2006-12-06T21:09:00.000+08:00

star

2006-12-05T02:19:00.000+08:00

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

What makes boys: May's calendar part II

2006-12-03T22:05:00.000+08:00

Did I mention that I liked May's calendar?

Types of men: May's Calendar Part I

2006-12-02T03:59:00.000+08:00

I love May's calendar.

10 facts about this girl

2006-12-01T02:17:00.000+08:00

Ok, this is the deal and these are the facts:

1. Yes, I have been ill for a long time. Like its my fault.
2. Yes, I do owe people alot of work and am not sorry.
3. Yes, I have been tired, unrested and cranky. Point being?
4. Yes, I have been neglecting far too many things for far too long. So?
5. Yes, I have been unreasonable, irrational and downright emotional. And?
6. No, I am not ok so quit asking stupid questions over and over again.
7. No, I do not anyone to tell me what I need or don't need.
8. No, I don't think I'm being unfair- its is my right to be totally unreasonable.
9. No, I am not ready to forgive anyone just yet- epecially you. And you two.
10. No, I don't think I'm always right- but on this, I'm sure I am.

getting rest

2006-11-30T01:38:00.000+08:00

I've been rather ill for the past three weeks- it started as a gastric flu that became a flu that became a cough that gave rise to other complications. Have taken many courses of medicine- few courses of antibiotics and even steriods- and am still sick. I've seen several doctors (and some non-doctors who are also keen to dish out advice and more) all of who have prescribed the same thing: Cherie needs rest.

Like I didn't already know. The thing is this, everyone seems to assume that for me to "rest" it basically means Cherie sleeping. A lot. The thing is this: I've got too much on my mind to really sleep sleep. I've far too many deadlines to truly be "rested". People claim to lay off my case but they ever so annoyingly and incessantly ask for this, that and everything else. People promise this and that but fail to deliver. And then they pretend to empathise.

So, what really is rest? I did a dictionary.com search and came up with the following. I've underlined the ones I fully appreicate:

Define: Rest
1. the refreshing quiet or repose of sleep: a good night's rest.
2.refreshing ease or inactivity after exertion or labor: to allow an hour for rest.
3.relief or freedom, esp. from anything that wearies, troubles, or disturbs.
4.a period or interval of inactivity, repose, solitude, or tranquillity: to go away for a rest.
5.mental or spiritual calm; tranquillity.
6.the repose of death: eternal rest.
7.cessation or absence of motion: to bring a machine to rest.
8.Music. (a) an interval of silence between tones; (b) a mark or sign indicating it.
9.Prosody. a short pause within a line; caesura.
10.a place that provides shelter or lodging for travelers, as an inn.
11.any stopping or resting place: a roadside rest for weary hikers.
12.a piece or thing for something to rest on: a hand rest.
13.a supporting device; support.
14.Billiards, Pool. bridge1 (def. 14).
15.to refresh oneself, as by sleeping, lying down, or relaxing.
16.to relieve weariness by cessation of exertion or labor.
17.to be at ease; have tranquillity or peace.
18.to repose in death.
19.to be quiet or still.
20.to cease from motion, come to rest; stop.
21.to become or remain inactive.
22.to stay as is or remain without further action or notice: to let a matter rest.
23.to lie, sit, lean, or be set: His arm rested on the table.
24.Agriculture. to lie fallow or unworked: to let land rest.
25.to be imposed as a burden or responsibility (usually fol. by on or upon).
26.to rely (usually fol. by on or upon).
27.to be based or founded (usually fol. by on or upon).
28.to be found; belong; reside (often fol. by with): The blame rests with them.
29.to be present; dwell; linger (usually fol. by on or upon): A sunbeam rests upon the altar.
30.to be fixed or directed on something, as the eyes, a gaze, etc.
31.Law. to terminate voluntarily the introduction of evidence in a case.

So for those of you that need to bugger off please do. Those that need to step up to the plate, please do. For those of you that need to prioritise me, please do. Cos this girl's going nuts. Oh yeah, and for those that need to lay off my case, I'd apppreciate if you did too.

Thanks.

still waters run no where

2006-11-29T02:17:00.000+08:00

Its a funny thing this idea of forgiveness. As a general rule I rarely bear grudges- mainly because I have a short memory and sometimes I actually forget why I am mad at someone. Other times I simply make the said afflictor a non-issue; like conveniently erasing them from my mind (and sometimes my life). But most times its because bearing a grudge is tiring.

But I'm having trouble forgiving you.
And you two as well.

treasure trove

2006-11-25T18:42:00.000+08:00

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
(Mark 6:21)"
I've always loved this verse and this year this verse has taken on a brand new meaning, to grand new depths. And to make things nicer, a friend sent me an sms yesterday saying he saw this said same verse on the walls of CK Tang in lieu of Christmas (my personal favourite time of the year) and he thought of me, sent me warm wishes and congratulations and left me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.*smile*

House

2006-11-21T19:54:00.000+08:00

I love House.

its time to look up

2006-11-17T02:07:00.000+08:00

Too many things. Too many things.
Too little time. Too little time.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Stop.
Stop.

Stop.
Its time to look up to the sun.
Its time to look up to the Son.

I can only imagine...

2006-11-16T01:49:00.000+08:00

I Can Only Imagine
By Chris Rice

I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When your face is before me
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

Surrounded by your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus?
Or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence?
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah?
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

I can only imagine when that day comes
And I find myself standing in the son
I can only imagine when all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
I can only imagine.

Dear God...

2006-11-15T02:33:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

Please help May-Ann as she takes her exam. As you know she's highly stressed, has way more on her plate that is humanly possible and far too little time for everything. So please send your angels to take care of her, bless her with good health, the ability to do well. And when you're dishing out portions of Grace for us all, please give her an extra portion ok?

Thank you. Love you. Amen.

my favourite things

2006-11-14T13:53:00.000+08:00

Someone recently asked me for a list of my favourite things. You know, the kind you list endlessly in those autograph books you kept as a child. The one where you wrote cheesy poems (I recall one boy writing "I have a pen, my pen is blue. I have a friend, my friend is you") that rhyme, along your name, birthdate, telephone number and address with the promise that you'd stay in touch, send birthday greetings, Christmas cards and all that other stuff young innocent children promise they'd do- till life's hustle and bustle consumes us. It was a funny time where it seemed mighty important that people knew your favourite colour was pink, or maybe orange. Or that you liked Andy Lau (I did at that time... sigh...) or that Roxette or Guns and Roses were your favourite band.

But I had a fun time chatting with this friend about our favourite things- after a fabulous dinner, amidst laughter, and over lemon meringue. So this is totally mundane, almost silly but a rough overview of the evening. Here goes...

Favourite colour: Midnight blue. If it's on a vintage porsche, all the better.
Favourite song: The warrior is child by Twila Paris. (Jr: This is unchanged all these years)
Favourite verse: For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matt 6:21)
Favourite hymn: Be thou my vision
Favourite singer: None. Curerntly listening to Stacy kent (Gabe: You take credit for this)
Favourite band: Neri Per Caso
Current life anthem: Rascal Flatt's God Bless the broken road. Before, Aguilera's Fighter
Favourite past time: Reading
Favoutite food: Currently Azhang's Dijon lamb ribs
Favourite dessert: Creme Brulee (since I sank my teeth into one at Les Amis years ago)
Favourite vegetable: Brinjal/Aubergine/eggplant (all same to me)
Favourite drink: Lemonade with aloe bits
Favourite tea: Earl Grey by Twinnings or Clipper thank you very much
Favourite coffee: Cuppacino
Favourite alcoholic drink: I've stopped drinking, but inniskillin ice wine still rocks
Favourite movie: Stormriders. (May: sigh... I'm a sad child)
Favourite TV drama: House. (John: Yes, over Grey's Anatomy & Criminal Minds)
Favourite actor: Sean Connery, no contest.
Favourite actress: Audrey Hepburn
Favourite public place: Ikea
Favourite animal: Dogs. Horses come a close second
Favourite piece of clothing: My jeans
When I'm stressed: I brood. Alot. And cry. Then usually I'm ok.
Most underated talent: Cooking
Most overated talent: That I don't get fazed in public. I do sometimes. Really.
Can't stand: The smell of jackfruit or Nanga (I don't know the real difference)
I'm a closet: Bejeweled fan (Ann's a worthy accomplice)
I'd never: Streak naked in public
I'd always: Find chocolate irresistable, especially nutella

pre-wedding treat

2006-11-06T23:28:00.000+08:00

Its been a relatively fun few days for me. I've actually been rather ill the past two weeks (first with gastric flu then with flu, then with a bad cough that's tapering off but still there) it's been a rather dreary two weeks. This is on top of the insane meetings, trainings and new projects that seem too continually stack up and fill up my schedule. So when I got a surprise call from Clarins to say a family friend had arranged for me and my wedding entourage to have a girly spa day at the Institut Clarins it was a real breath of fresh air.

So, today, six of us trooped down to the bliss-filled Institut Clarins for our little pre-wedding pampering in what Clarins calls the touch-and-treat package (each person got to pick a treatment of their choice, I got two!) complete with finger food, fruits, private cordoned off area to lazy about and personal therapists to see to making us feel like princesses. Or queens. Jo and I finished last so we entertained ourselves tinkering and fiddling with all the Clarins products made available to us: makeup, body stuff, face stuff, fragrances.... It was like home econs with super high-end products.

Loads of laughs, good company and one heck of a relaxing day...

I'm sleeping happy tonight. :)

traumatising mich and making jo smile

2006-11-05T06:06:00.000+08:00

I'm personally not a huge fan of the silly-almost-comic-book-like teriyaki boys song about Tokyo and fast and furious driving. But I must admit that hearing Jo and May go at it at Mich made me almost want to jump on the bandwagon.

And on another note, Tasha managed to help me score a Paul Twohill autograph so I can watch Jo's face totally light up. I still don't get it, but it made her totally squeal with glee. Actually, squealing is putting it mildly; but its a sound I can't quite describe so squeal will have to do.

The girls did a thing for me...

2006-11-04T17:53:00.000+08:00

Generally, I meet up with my girlfriends in little pockets. Meaning, usually never in a big group. Last night I got all of them all at the same time. :) Amelia and Lavina masterminded a small bachelorette thingy for me (which I'm told is going to continue next Friday night) and my little pockets of girlfriends all came together for food and drinks.

Thanks all for being there. Love you all.

looking for staff

2006-11-03T13:39:00.000+08:00

I AM LOOKING FOR A TEMP STAFF
I am looking for temp/part time staff to work with me and my training team in the next few months. We boast flexible working hours, great office location (purvis street) and a positive working environment. Looking to start immediately.

Also, all those interested in doing internships with us this holiday, please submit your resumes to me soon. We're closing our applications 15th November 2006.

All interested parties to mail: infoATekatraining.com

done.

2006-11-02T17:47:00.000+08:00

I give up.

the big bad world and small God sent miracles

2006-10-27T23:44:00.000+08:00

You know, the world's not always a nice place: there's forest conflagarations, tsunamis, wars, pestilience and all sorts of nature induced epidemics- some made worse due to man's sheer selfishness and stupidity. And of course, the people that inhabit this world along side me can be real idiots, bastards and well, basically, not so nice. The world's not always a pretty place with beautiful things happening.

Then, God makes you take all that back when he gives you small miracles. Small beautiful miracles. Like Joan's little baby girl whom my sister and I think is one of the cutest babies we have seen.

Joan: I'd visit but a down with a bout of gastric flu so will do so another time. But big hugs to you three and kisses to you and Clare. Think Terence will understand why he only gets the hug. :)

the broken road

2006-10-25T23:24:00.000+08:00

I've loved this song for a long while ever since I heard it on the radio the first time I was in the states. Never knew who sang it, never even remembered what the whole song said, never really listened to the lyrics.

I do now.

I never really knew what the song was about till now.

Yes, God, bless the broken road.

Bless The Broken Road by Rascal Flatts

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long lost dream lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

a million candles

2006-10-16T21:37:00.001+08:00

I've seen the ad on TV and now my sister's got this on her blog. Went to see the site and appalled at how many more candles need to be lit. Go light one. Please.

http://www.lightamillioncandles.com/

lines

2006-10-15T01:17:00.000+08:00

Too much. Too much. Too many. Too many.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Stop.
Please know when to draw the line.
Its getting too hard to handle.
What suppose to be really fun is no longer.
So please....

d

r

a

w

thelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinethelinetheline

i should know better

2006-10-14T04:31:00.001+08:00

I can't do this alone.
I won't do this alone.
I shouldn't have to even be in this position.
You have always chosen what suits you most.
Picked the manner that best fits your plans.
Even when you compromised, with far too many terms.
And fine prints.
And exit clauses.
And passive demands.
Done my best to be level headed; as collected as possible.
Tolerated.
Endured.
Done my best to hold things together.
You have no idea what its like to manage a spider web.
Or what it feels like to always walk on eggshells.
To feel like giving it all up;
To fight to keep a strong front;
To smile and pretend.
You promised to make things better.
And for a while I believed you did.
But it was merely to better suit your schedule.
To what's important to you.
Again.
I should have known better.

my flower pooches

2006-10-13T23:58:00.000+08:00

We were making flowergirl headrings today- not that we got very far given the amount of time we goofed off to play with the dogs and all. If they had better manners and were better behave, it would be totally adorable as flower pooch and ring pup. But they are not, so too bad. Still, they are so cute aren't they?