As a little girl dressed in a checked pink uniform and armed with a weak bladder, I fondly recall my teacher asking me to draw on a sheet of blank paper, what i want to be when i grow up.
Not giving it a second more to thought, I immediately grabbed the nearby crayons and started drawing my childhood ambition.
When my teacher started reviewing the drawings done by my fellow kindergardeners, I was delighted that my dream wasnt a replica of some other kids. In fact it stood out amougst the doctors,lawyers,policemen and of cuz, the teacher.
I drew a woman with her hands behind her back, wearing a spotless white dress complete with white shoes and socks. She had a odd-shaped white hat on her head. On the hat, i drew a red cross.
The nurse i drew grinned from ear to ear and had a rainbow and birds behind her to match her cheerful disposition.
The teacher gushed at my drawing and my pride and ego swelled. I told myself, this is definately what ill be when i grow up.
Following that, during my secondary 3 and 4 days, i worked at a hospital as part of a student attachment program. The closest ill ever get to being a nurse.
As students, we were assigned to the elderly wards and we worked in pairs under the nurses. Once we stepped into the wards, a wave of sickness and sadness swept through us. Everywhere we looked, our gaze was met by a dejected , lifeless and emotionless face. No matter how hard we smiled, the elders would just look away or ignore us.
The patients each had varying diseases, and this was some i still remember:
1) An elderly woman with a 3cm deep hole, a circumrance of a 20cent coin in her leg. It was so deep i could see the whiteness of her bones. I cringed when the nurse inserted the pinchers with the cotton to clean the wound. The old woman however, looked on emotionlessly.
2) An old lady recently admitted required the nurse to insert a drip through her nose to reach her stomach.(for feeding purposes) The old lady visibly irriated grabbed the long tube and with a great haul, pulled it out of her right nostril. Blood along with mucus splated on her pillow.
3) A young female teenager. Mentally retarded,she was bound to her bed. Her legs and hands were curiously covered in white bandages with small blotches of blood. When asked, the nurse said those wounds were all self-inflicted. Once, she had a violent seziure. I held on to her leg which would not stop kicking. Her eyes were bulging and she bit hard into the cloth tied around her mouth. Slowly and quietly, her strength went and she fell asleep. Now her bed stunk so bad due to her perspiration and her faeces. The nurses drew the curtains around the bed, turned the patient over and started changing her diapers. The smell was overpowering as the nurse opened up the diaper and i noticed above her anus, right about her lower back, there was a big red hollow circle about the size of a milo tin can cover. It was about 1cm deep and it was painful just looking at it. It was a bed sore due to lying too long on the bed.
During those few weeks, I grew to detest and re-think my childhood ambition.
Once, I entered the bathroom with a wheelchair-bound malay elderly lady. The young nurse started un-dressing the lady who was still groggy from sleep. Not knowing what to do, I stared. As i continue my staring, before me the malay lady sat on the toilet bowl in her sagging nakeness. Her breasts hung all the way till they were resting on her thighs. The young nurse lifted one of her breasts and started scrubbing underneath. I must have let a grasp, cause the nurse turned around and noted my presence.
She said, " Here, hold this for a while."
I couldnt believe my ears. Did she mean the breast in her right hand or the showerhead in her left? Being the pessimist that I am, my shakey hand started for the long and seemingly lifeless breast. That moment, the nurse laughed and indicated that i was to hold the showerhead for her.
Indeed, being a nurse certainly requires an individual whose personality resembles the rainbow.
Bright, colourful and gives hope to whoever sees it.
For ten straight years, me and my mates at plmgps and plmgss were deprived of long hair. Hair must be above the collar and hair must cover the ears were the golden rules we had to abide to. PL girls go with short hair like how cj girls goes with short shirts. We were of probably the only school whose discipline mistress moonlighted as a hairdresser during morning assemblies.
I did dream of having flowing, Rapunzel-like tresses but as i was going for a sleek funky look in secondary four i vowed to my classmates never would i wear contacts nor have long hair.
Look at me now. I live on disposable contacts and am the proud owner of long, limp straight lifeless hair.
worry 1: my dad's bald! Well, semi-bald to be exact. Save for the hairs on the side, he as bald as bald can be. Here's where i start to worry.
Due to the biological law, there will be the genetic transmission of certain unwanted characteristics from parent to the very unwilling offspring. I bet by the time im 30, ill be on the vip list of yun nan hair rebuilding centre.
worry 2: Hair is already dropping at alarming rates and im not even in my twenties. On my pillow, on the bathroom sink and floor, on every nook and corner of my room...its everywhere. I reckon if i were to collect every strand ive dropped, it could be rolled into balls and balls of hair which in turn could be knitted in to sweaters, very hairy sweaters.
well well. Life cant just be about worries can it?
Many many many thanks to *joel* who has helped me in more ways he'll ever know.
Lifting my spirits, sharing my burdens, tolerating my madness (mad freaks?!) and stood by me (and still standing beside me) through the dark ages of my student life.
So hamsum and macho
So huggable and cuddlable
So mature and reliable when needs be
So silly and cute as a button X)
Reckon this the 1st time im injecting a mild dosage of relationship mushy-ness in my blog.
hawhaw.
Bare with it my readers, cuz im in love : )
"Bloody asshole! Duno how to drive, izzit?" *starts honking*
"Will you take a look at that bugger? Switching lanes like a drunk monkey." *virgous hand movement pointing to the drunk car infront*
"So slow.... must be a lady driver." *irriated look plus virgous hand movement, particularly the middle finger, when driver finally passes the slow car*
Words uttered by the seasoned driver, harden by years of travelling on the merciless streets of Singapore where patience seems to no longer exist. (okay,okay. Sg isnt tt bad. But with an increasing population of angry drivers, who is to say?)
However, this "seasoned" driver got his license no more than a mth ago. Sitting beside him and hearing him speak in angry-driver-language made me wonder whether he was born with a silver spoon steering wheel in his mouth hands.
I kept stealing glances at him while he drove and occasionally i broke out in fits of laughter. What made me act like ten retarded chimpazees again?
well, I just couldnt believe that the guy who has difficulty transporting himself from place to place on his two feet( trips over nothing while walking on the flatest pavement) is now transporting me home in a four-wheel vehicle.
As he drove past a police car, i half expected sirens to go off and the police after him for being underaged. After a highspeed chase and social skills on my part, he was let off on the account that he "drove to impress girlfriend"
My jo. The one who played "mary had a little lamb" over the phone for me. The one who picked cute little seashells for me. The one who daydreamed in his Amaths class about me(or so u told me). The one who wrote me letters with cartoon drawings of his lastest hairstyle. The one who said he wanted to grow up into adulthood as lovers with me.
And as i look at him pull away in his car, I wondered is jo growing up?
Licensed to grow up, we take our first step into adulthood.
afterword:
The above 3 quotes of angry seasoned driver was taken from my dad. Much to everyone's disappointment disbelief, Jo was not the one responsible for such irresponsible, bias and angry words. It was my dad.
Yesterday, on my way to the mrt. I was approached by a monk. The cynical side of me took over as i recalled all the articles of psuedo monks asking for alms in hawker centres. Was this monk one of them? preying on young naive girls like, ahem... moi?
This monk whipped out a golden shiny card. For a moment i thought it was a credit card and that he was going to ask for assitance to withdraw his lifesaving from his account to travel to the mountains of china to lead a life devoid of material wants or needs.
Turns out that golden card had an imprint of Buddha on it. The monk pushed the card to my hand and kept repeating "bao you ni chu lu ping an" Very loosely translated means...er..may your outing be safe(?) Hm,..somewhere along those lines. Outing refers to your departure from this earth.
With lightning quick reflexes which confirmed my suspicions that he received shaolin martial arts trainings, the monk whipped out a black executive-like file. With a diplomatic smile on his face, he asked for my signature.
Realizing that perhaps that was the file that contained the names of those he saved, i immediately started shaking my head and repeating "bu yao,bu yao"(means dun want,dun want) and fled down the escalator.
I duno what made me act like a girl with the combined IQ of ten retarded chimapzees. Pehaps it was the signature thing, making everything so official. Like once i die i'll be refered to the Buddhist office of afterlife under the department "Saved at the mrt"
Made it safely to PS to meet jo and watched "Running on karma". For those ignorant ones, its the movie which features Andy Lau in a larger-than-life muscle suit. And yes, its about monks.
Without a doubt the movie would leave you with many un-answered questions and set your pondering not only on life and its relation to karma but also how amazing it is for directors to squeeze in so many genres into a single movie. Comedy?Romance?horror? its got it all. Prefect for those budget movie goers. 3-in-1 movie! Making it a B-grade movie no less.
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I duno when did it start.
But somewhere somehow when i wasnt paying attention, my attitude took an extreme makeover...hm,make tt extreme runover.
Previously my attitude was like a basket full of rotten apples,now its like TWO baskets of rotten apples.
My life got cold
It happened many years ago
When summer slipped away
So chill now oh
We've got many years to go
So take it day by day
When did i stop caring? When did i become so bo-chap?
Rina commented that i had violent mood swings.
Joel remarked that ive changed.
The monk probably saw my bad karma and my impending doom and had to preach to me.
hmmm, thinking about it I was probably a retarded chimpazee feeding on a basket of rotten apples in my past life.
repent i did not. *sigh. After going thru countless school holidays did i not learn to finish my hmwrk on the very 1st day so as to ensure a guilt-free holiday w/o the nagging feeling that you've got a mountain of hmwork awaiting you once you come home?
Dad: Finished your homework?
me: mmmhmpf
the feeling i get when my dad questions me about my situation in the department of schoolwork is totally undescrible. My throat goes dry, my eyebrows automatically cross and my overflowing vocabulary of words is reduced to a single undecipherable syllable "mmmmhmpf."
Sometimes, my dad will be satisfed with the magical mmmhmpf and leave me alone. But sometimes, he'll press on and ask for specific numbers in the dreaded department of marks. And at that point of time, guilt engulfs me and im thrown into an abyss of shame....
and that lasts for about 5mins. The hp beeps, the commercial ends, the sudden urge to pee (? perhaps its linked to my past), the chocolate in the fridge seems to be calling to me, the "i must have tt" thots abt tt quiksilver bag.
Sigh...the distractions of a teenager.
On to more pressing news, joel just annouced his new found side of himself. no need to break it to me, jo! ive been watching you...
Ive seen how ur eyes light up when a certain mr bloom is mentioned, how you've exclaimed time and time again "oh shit, orlando bloom is so cool"
But what gave you away was how you made me turn my head 180degrees just to look at the revolving poster of mr bloom along the orchard underpass cuz you wldnt let me answer your question without getting a look at your posterboy in fear that i might shortchange him in the department of compliments.
Well jo...where do we go from here.where do we go...
Sometimes i wish the amount of "shortness" in my life could affect how long i live too. (refer to previous entry)
Dying young might seem tragic or even wasteful but it does saves you from the arthritis, from alzheimer's disease,from the embarrassment of having a foreign maid young enough to be your granddaugther to see you in your sagging nakedness and having her to bathe you or help you to pee or piss.
And that's for those lucky ones who have filial children who employ maids to look after them.
What about those living alone? Go to the toilet on your own and because of a recent stroke, you cant use the right side properly, you slip and fall.
No one comes to help you. Your husband's gone before you, your best friend's locked up in an old folks' home, your children's working their ass off to the grave and your grandson is thinking of ways to score.
Well, dying young and commiting suicide is different. Commiting suicide to die young is silly. With my violent mood swings and extreme indeicisiveness, ill take forever just to place one foot over the ledge by which time i'll be haggard and old. No longer eligible for dying young.
Random: Promos coming. Sex and the city taking forever to download. must find time to read the guide . Passport's expired. Edwin yeo's article made me laff.dreamt i had the tinest tattoo on my right hip.
must re-paint toe nails. Promos coming.
Having too much time on your hands sometimes forces you to think about everything and well...nothing. A few things my brain has touched upon during its descent into the stagnant mode(aka after Common Test period, or after any other major exam for tt matter.)
the overwhelming "shortness" in my life.
I have a short attention span. Remarks like "Needs to focus more" & "Easily distracted" have graced my report cards for as long as i have been collecting report cards.
I'm short-sighted. Wahey, in a country where myopia affects 95% of students, how can they possibily leave me out right?
As a naive primary school student at plmgps, i remember vividly how much i wanted to be one of those "smart" kids in class.
Always scoring As in spelling and full marks in ting xie and mental sums (getting all those cute scratch and sniff "well-done" stickers was enuff to make me go green with envy).
One day, my jealousy took a constructive turn as i decided to study these "smarties". My keen observation skills told me that all "smarties" wore glasses and that gave me a glimmer of hope.
I was a girl on a mission, a mission to claim all the scratch n sniff stickers that were rightfully mine! *insert evil laughter*
I watched tv on the floor, developing some skills as time went by (like spotting wally in where's wally in nano-seconds,doubling as a human remote control and sometimes as a foot stool for my elder sis)
I wore my mum's glasses around the house.
I read books on my bed, and even in the dark (?)
My efforts didn't go to waste as before the year was out, i was rewarded with a pair of pink plastic spectacles : )
What about the scratch n sniff stickers? well....as humans, we must know our limitations...mental sums and spelling is just not my thing, know what im saying?
I suffer from short term memory. Made popular by Dory, im sure you know what it means.
"Huh?" is probably my most used singlish term followed by "walau-eh"
I'm pretty short-tempered. Little things can piss me off. Especially if it concerns a fat ah-lian. Cuz they rank high on my really "pissifying" things in Sg.
And the worse of the worse....I'm short in terms of height. 158 or 156 something like that.
With national day just afew days away....i feel less than patriotic.
In fact, i feel damn ungrateful.
Beginning to dislike Sg and all it stands for. but hey, at the end of the day I still wave that flag and belt out in songs where bengs,lians,uncles,aunties,snobs,geeks,partypple,rich bastards,slackers,muggers,the kiashu,the kiasi: ie, everyone knows the lyrics. Take ur pick, we.are.singapore, one.pple.one.nation.one.sg, this.is.home,wo de jia, i know them all. but whu doesn't yea?
*starts plucking petals off a daisy*
love Sg, love Sg not, love Sg, love Sg not......
sigh...its really a love-hate relationship i have with Sg...
But like any other relationship, it needs compromise from both parties.
So here's the deal, please revive bus 85 and i promise i'll sing the national athem out loud every morning at assembly and with vigor!
okay okay, what am i thinking....
I'll throw in the pledge as well. two for one. cmon...deal?
*holland V*! xiaoxin! haha he's just so cute. And seeing him with Jingjing just makes me grin like mad. they are so cute togther :) And seeing the cythia koh trying to squeeze her way inbetween the cutest couple on earth, just makes me want to reach my hands into the television and strangle that little neck of hers.whoops violence. hm pardon me. Oh and that dream of jingjing's...the wedding. so beautiful. hm true that what you dream wun happen in reality?
I did dream of getting married to jo..... : ( oh man!
hm...but he arrived in a lorry and i was wearing a long-slevee puffy lacy wedding cake...er, i mean dress. And if i remembered correctly, it was held at cjc haha
Got my results back. Definately nothing to gloat about, in fact, its packed with disappointments and made me panic for my not-too-distant-promos.
Decisions, decisions....I for one am not very gd at it.
Having landed me up where i am today.
Life brings an individual choices. Choices of varying degrees of importance and the consequences that follow, impact upon one's life in ways that are known only to the unknown future.
As a child, I have learnt many lessons from making the "wrong/bad" choices. Many of which were initiated by my mum, whose rhetorical powers was at its peak as my mind was at its most gullible.
*Standing on my tippy toes, i stood beside my mum behind the kitchen counter. She was making coffee for my dad and i was memerised by the steam rising frm the mug, itching to play with the coffee power and the hot water.
"mummy,can i make coffee for u?" (my opportunistic nature kicked off early in my life, seizing this chance to play with the magical steam)
"cannot la! u can pour cold water for mummy. BUT u cannot touch the hot water okay? Whatever you do, dun touch the hot kettle! Remember ah, no touching of the kettle!" she shouted as she left the kitchen.
My distracted brain suffered from an information overload and my little mind started filtering out words. Words of wisdom from my mum ended up as "touch the hot kettle!" The words lingered in my head, enticing me to touch the steam, to just reach out and place my hand on the silvery pot on the stove. Finally, with a great air of decisiveness, i reached out with my short arm and grabbed the kettle.
Immediately i made a reflex jump backwards that would have made record holders of standing board jump stare in awe. I stood there, waving frantically as if to put out a fire on my hands. Needless to say, i brawled like a baby. *
As you get older, decisions gets harder and harder to make. Indecisiveness is suffered by many i know. Advice from folks, peers and perhaps even the rebellious streak in you confuses your mind and blurs your initial intention.
Afraid to make a mistake, people hesistate and avoid situations where major decisions are neccessary. And when they do decide, they tend to follow the crowd, to tread the path that many has taken.
A "bad/wrong" choice might result in a mistake but it doesnt make your whole life a mistake. Sometimes all we need to do is ease up alittle and make that leap of faith. Take the road less travelled.
In retrospect, i have made it to this very day, at the impressive age of 17yrs and 7mths, without so much as grabbing a hot steaming kettle with my bare hands.
Challenges, in the most fearful form known to mankind, particularly targetting the student population of this small Asian country has invaded my slackerised school days. Next week commences the mass assessment of the size and prowess of the brain.
my common tests are here! argh.
I can do it.
I can do it.
I can do it because i say i can.
oh yea. bring it on
Following this entry will hopefully be one where i will be gloating and exhibiting my excellent results heh.
*keep ur fingers crosses for this girl who has been guilty of sloth.*
Stopping outside far east plaza, daniel reached for his handphone and typed furiously :
"where are you guys? im here liao. teacher let me off early.going where for lunch?"
Alone and with nothing to kill but time, he headed into the air-conditioned levelONE@fareast.With most of the shops still closed,he sat down, observing the blond-haired ah lian trying to squeeze the female manequin into a tiny tube top. Happy that he found some form of entertainment, he whipped out his nokia3650 and wanted cheekily to snap photos of the clumsly sales girl fumbling with the manequin. *SMS TONE*
"here liao. ay,claire bought a friend for you. she's a babe! will intro to u. make full use of this opportunity ah! see you @ scotts food court and turn on ur charm to the maximum yea?dun screw this up"
what the @#$% stupid terence.trust him to come up with such stuff. Daniel cursed as he recalled the last time terence introduced a "babe" to him. After that eventful blinddate,daniel was sure he was tramatized and till this day, he would look over shoulder avoiding a certain female who he highly suspected to be a close relative of the big-nostrils creatures swimming in the zoo.
**why the hell do i need dickhead terence to intro babes to me?! Ive got plenty babelicous friends and pretty girls to boot! Terence is seriously underestimating my gift of attracting the gurls **
"eh dan! over here!"
Spotting terence and terence's gf, claire, daniel walked over swiftly with long strides.
"dan,i would like you to meet marie."
Daniel turned and for the first time in his life,he was speechless. For a guy who was pretty damn articulate, that is a really big deal. Marie stood there, radiating sweetness with her rosy cheeks and demure smile. She extended her hand with grace and poise and daniel stood there memerized by her very existence.
Taking her soft hand in his, he felt it. Deep inside his heart something jolted. This was it. He knew it.
she is the one.
"claire? hi...erhm....daniel left me. for another woman...."
"what? what about the kids?"
"they're asleep...i don't know how to tell them that their daddy's no longer gonna be around."
"oh marie...he doesnt deserve you..."
"after 12 years! 12years with that man and one day he just leaves....."
Time can change anything.. (heey. just compare John Travolta in Grease and him in face/off.) Married couples are no exception. Are marriage vows strong enough to keep a two people together?
Gone are the sweet nothings, quicken heartbeats, sweaty palms and the mere presence of each other envokes feelings of sweet intoxicaton.
In its place are deadlines to meet, getting insurance, paying the bills, hiring a tutors for the kids and the mere sight of the toilet seat up envokes feelings of irritation.
Are marriages doomed for the inevitable evolution? Where practical matters overlay. And all the love is abandoned and taking its place are petty agruments and frustration.
hmmmm....just thoughts abt life-long partnership and honing my story-telling skills (or the lack thereof) hehe
-_-
what has kat been up to? wonders the avid reader of this very intriguing but otherwise stangnant blog of this very weird but otherwise (have yet to come up with a positive adjective) girl.
well....this is just for u....avid reader. : )
28june2003.
A recipe for a disasterous day always starts off with an early morning test, preferbly maths. She was shaking her leg virgously in hope that it might simultaneously get her brain juices to produce another long-forgotten maths formula. While searching the contents of her brain for that vital information that might help secure 3points (yay! i din get zero!),kat's ability to concentrate begin to dwindle. She found a smile slowly creeping up on her face as she thought of the bum dress( a good buy! ) she was going to wear ltr to meet her most beloved sweetheart, whom she only last seen approximately 2days ago.
*fastforword*
Sitting in fouth row from the front, kat settled in very happily beside her beloved.
They were munching on smuggled in breadtalk delicacies.
Their eyes transfixed to (visually-stimulating?)images on the big screen infront of them and their ears treated to excessively loud sound,otherwise known as entertainment to most.
"hey, you feeling cold?"kat's concerned companion asked her from time to time. Shaking her head meekly, kat felt a growing warmth within herself.
And when the credits were rolling they made their way out of the cineplex.
He expressed exaggareted concerns about turning deaf at such a young age.
Kat laughed and turned to smile at him.
He looked at her with a changed expression. and said" kat...look at me again....",his gaze lingering at her lips
*oh man! he's going to say i look cute! i know it! or perhaps even sexy? but after watching lucy liu,drew barrymore and camerion diaz in outfits that demanded..erm attention from the male population, her hopes were as low as the cut in lucy liu's crisscross leather bodysuit.*
"what?!"she opened her mouth in gapping curiousity.
he was staring at her mouth
"erm...you...you got some chocolate stuck inbetween your teeth"
You know its been too long when u find yourself scrolling furiously up and down your own blog trying to find that little "sign in" button to log on and officially blog.
Took me a whole of 15seconds to realise its on blogger. hmmmm...
My life thus far has become like a heavy load in a washing machine...monotously swirling up and down up and down...and being in school just means that u're in a laundry shop...those bulky old-fashioned washing machines with the little circular hole in the middle lined up next to each other and outlining the entire room..facing each other with the same dreadful and dead expression on the unfeeling and almost inhuman appearance on their silvery matt finishes. No one attempts to stop this never-ending cycle. No one tries to reach out to press the stop button and clear the load........just....the continuous flow of troubles and conflict.
can someone please tell me why <3 is supposed to be a heart???? everytime i see this <3 symbol on someone weblog i'll just visualise fart. sometimes it even appears as <333 i mean like wadd? triple fart? fart to the power of three?
Adjusting to yet another new school environment made me reflect upon my primary school days...In the classroom i feel uncomfortable when im given undue attention. Like when all eyes are on you expecting the next words to come out of your trembling mouth the answers to "how did the world begin?" when you obviously werent there when the stars and planets fell into place. Or "Repeat what i said,katherine." when you obviously was not listening as you were enaged in an interesting and not to mention intelletually stimulating conversation with the person next to you. Or "why didn't tell me you wanted to go to the toilet?!?!"
*flashback*
kat- aged 6
"teacher, teacher! quick look at her!"
The teacher turned around and saw kat in her red checked PAP kindergarden uniform seated on the floor surrounded by a pool of yellow liquid.
"kat-her-ineeeee! this is the second time this week!"
kat -aged 7
Dressed in a bright yellow sleveeless shirt and a pair of dark blue shorts, she blended in with the bunch of primary one girls. or did she? Of course she didn't. She was knew among her teachers as the complusive "pee-er" in class. Her subject teachers prayed every morning not to be the unlucky one to be there when she decided to unload her bladder in class. When my little primary sch couterparts were returning home beaming and bursting with pride carrying their A* crayon drawings or their full marks ting xie home, i was carrying a red plastic bag with contents i shall not elaborate on.....
kat-now.
what do u think? of cuz i pee in the toilet! im capable of handling my pea-sized but otherwise fine bladder, thank you!
You know how sometimes you're so damn excited about something you accidently chuck your precious toe under the door? yes? no? well that happened to me.....
I was in my sister's room, doing my normal thing(bugging her with my horrendously loud burps *as u can see,im obviously suffering from the rina syndrome.* and my off-key singing, dramatised actions and highly irritating giggles) when suddenly i heard the phone ringing! yes! joel's calling me! must get to phone NOW! i leapt to the door with super human speed and swung it open with super human strength and right there and then got my middle toe of my right foot stuck under the door with super human stupidity.
ouch.
now my precious toe has a a purple shade. pretty cool eh? was wondering why it didnt bleed.
You how sometimes you watch a nature documentary and end up getting grossed our by how the tiger rips the throat of the deer exposing the raw blood red meat underneath and all these while the deer is still kicking (or maybe the tiger just bit into some nerves that makes the deer kick?) and it seems as though its face is expressioness. no pain? perhaps God made it so that we humans who watch it wouldnt feel like we're watching re-runs of violent, gory teen-slasher movies.
But honestly, even without the expression of pain and the cry for help...i was still pretty devastated at a documentary i watched earlier. The predator wasn't a tiger with rasor sharp teeth or a snake with it menacing beady black eyes but a cute furry black monkey with white fur around its cute small face. While the camera man was spying on the monkey, it was spying on a racoon-like animal mother leaving its babies to get food. And this agile monkey leapt to the nest and grabbed one of the babies and leapt off to the adjacent tree. The mother spotted the predator and tried to reach it despite the fact that she couldn't climb trees. Such a tragedy. And as the camera zoomed in on the monkey licking its blood-stained fingers after finishing his meal, I couldn't help but think of some random KFC advertisment "ummmmm...finger-licking goood"...
Biblical masculinity is neither passive nor rudely aggressive. God calls us to be servant initiators---firm, but gentle; masculine, yet caring; leaders, yet servants.
Four practical ways you can do these things in your relationships with women.
1. Assume the responsibility of leading and initiating in your relationships with women.
Leading is a form of serving. When you provide direction, suggest ideas, and initiate conversation or activities, you're serving your sisters.
One woman told me what a burden it is when her male friends sit around waiting for women to plan everything. "I don't like it when a man sits there asking, 'So what do you want to do?'" she said, "I want them to make a decision!"
The same principle applies in your courtship (or friendships). Do you initiate conversations? Do you carefully plan your dates? Are you thinking ahead and directing the course of the courtship? It's your job to make sure that it's continuing to grow at a healthy rate. It's your responsibility to make sure you're both guarding your hearts.
As you can see, servant leadership requires work. It means sacrifice. It means going out on a limb and proposing ideas, setting direction, and inviting others to follow. It means listening, taking others' interests and needs into account, and adjusting as neccessary. It means deferring to others at times. Leadership isn't tyranny; it's service rendered. It's difficult, but it's a big part of what it means a man.
2. Be a spiritual leader in your relationships with women.
Men, we should set the spiritual pace in our relationships with women.
We should be the ones to make sure our relationships aren't merely, superficial and entertainment oriented, but deep, God focused, and characterized by biblical fellowship.
My friend Joseph sets a terrific example in this area. When he's with a group of friends, at some point in the conversation he'll ask a question like "So what did you think of the sermon on Sunday?" or "Can I share something God is showing me?" or "What's the area God is helping you to grow in?"
Do you know what is Joseph doing? He's initiating biblical fellowship. He's asking questions that help him and his friends share the new life they have because of Jesus. He's leading them in talking about reality of God in their lives.
Joseph isn't a spiritual show-off. That should never be our motive. His goal is to serve his friends and enrich his own life. He knows how easy it is to let a whole night go by without having a serious a serious, God-focus conversation. He knows that in fellowships he and his friends are truly growing closer.
3. Do Little Things In Your Relationships With Women That Communicate.
Your Care, Respect, and Desire to protect.
This doesn't have to be complicated. Simply be a gentleman to the women in your life. Your goal is to show through your actions that their status as a woman is a noble one.
Let them feel your concern and respect in as many ways as you possibly can. You can do this through small actions: open the door for them, pull out their chair, escort them to their car (or house) at the end of the night. If you need more guidance, ask a few Christian women for pointers. You'll be amazed how willing they'll help educate you!
In your courtship, remember that you're not doing these things merely to impress or to win a woman's heart. You are doing these things for God's glory. You do them to serve a sister in Christ and honor her as a woman.
4. Encourage Women to Embrace Godly Femininity.
Look for ways to encourage your sisters in godly femininity. When they make room for you to practice leadership, thank them. When they're humble and gentle, encourage them. Femininity is not weakness. It requires great strength of character for a women to be gentle in an age that screams for her to do otherwise.
When you see woman going against the grain of culture by culivating a skill that will serve her family someday, compliment her. When a girl is pursuing a demanding career, but it is still being feminine, let her know you notice. Let her know you respect her.
Men should be the biggest encouragers and prayer warriors for women who are seeking to glorify God by practicing godly femininity.
Wrapped up tightly in sushi style, I was excreting perspiration through the pores of the skin at a ready speed. It didnt help that my comforter was thick with layers and layers of cotton or the fact that was I was too chicken step out of my bed to reach for the air-con controller. I lay there, with my eyes wide open ready to feast my eyes on any ghostly figure hovering in my room and my lungs ready to inhale a considerable amount of air to allow me to let out a earth-shattering scream.
Images of my bloody mangled body being discovered by my mother the next morning provided no comfort. or thoughts of the room lights flickering and going off and the computer screen coming on, emitting an eerie glow and suddenly ghostly words flashing across the screen accompained by a female voice over the speakers saying "i will haunt you"
All these just because I didn't send a "chain" message. A message that threatens that i will be haunted if i didn't. Well, i am being haunted....by my own paraniod thoughts that is. I blame my sister for feeding my over-paraniod-ness. After all, she did allow me to digest episodes after episodes of X-files when I was clearly underage for such graphic and haunting plots (therefore my brain being the perfect breeding ground such over-the-top paranoia)
I know i'm over-reacting but i cant seem to help it.I'm the kind who covers nine-tenth of the screen while watching a scarey movie.
oh my gosh....i can't take it anymore. the haunting words of the message keeps replaying in my head and my paranoid overworking to satisfy my fears.........
Standing at the bustop which offered little comfort to the swelting heat, I stood there impatiently with my arms folded infront of me. I stragetically placed myself near the edge of the bustop so that I could frown and try to make out the numbers of each bus that passed by and to stay away from the bulk of primary schools kids who were stinking up the bustop. Despite my obivious body language that I was irritated and annoyed due to the weather,offensive smell and the high noise level, I heard a cheerful "Hi!" directed at me. I turned and saw an indian boy leaning on the fence and grinning at me. He raised his finger and circled his face and said , very loudly, "your face very pretty!". I raised my recently (and beautifully) plucked eyebrow at him that obivously said :what the f***? Then he responsed in a louder voice, "MISS! WILL YOU MARRY ME?"
I was horrified. I couldn't bring myself respond in any way to state that he was kuku in the head not because we had such a large audience at the crowded bustop but due to the fact that he was only half my height.
kids these days...tsktsk
"You know the world is going crazy when
the best rapper is a white guy,
the best golfer is a black guy,
the Swiss hold the America's Cup,
France is accusing the US of arrogance, and
Germany doesn't want to go to war."
Has anyone seen the Miss Singapore commerical? The one that goes "they have grace...they have poise...not only that they have Ts and As...Talents and Abilities that is." How lame can they can? My sis reckons it actually means Tits and Ass. I second that. On a different subject, I hate the word tits or teats for that matter. It just sounds so......er, tity. I mean doesn't breasts sound better? or bosom...or even nipples for godness's sake. but tits!??
Hm, thinking about that has bought to mind a certain issue me n jo talked about recently.I watched a show once that said " A women's utimate fantasy is doing it with another girl. And a man's ultimate fantasy is to jump into bed and join them." I just had to ask jo whether or not that is true haa. His response I shall not reveal. I mean, give my guy a little privacy ya? haa. But i can say that my ultimate fantasy is definately not doing it with another girl. haha.
Ottava rima? Me? That can't be right! Too frivolous? But tut, there's no such thing! Let others ponder thoughts of wrong and right, Or sit and think how much they love the spring; I'd rather spend my time in gleeful spite, Or maybe laugh, or maybe sit and sing. Besides, it might be fun to be inspiring - But surely it would get so very tiring.
Mrs. Ng-Gan Lay Choo
Yishun Junior College
3 Yishun Ring Road
Singapore 768675
RE: School transfer
We, as parents of Katherine, would like first and foremost to express our overflowing gratitude on granting her admission into your wondrous school.
Last year, we came to you in hope of Katherine’s admission, you agreed and we were elated. However it was not meant to be as Catholic Junior College retained Katherine as one of their students.
We have since persuaded Katherine to stay Catholic Junior College, but she seemed determined to join your College. Her reasons for joining your college are unknown to herself, much less to us. We suggest you stop asking unnecessary questions and start making full use of this opportunity to exploit this lazy but otherwise very talented student
The slacker has been on a ponning spree. She hasn't been in school since Monday. Her reason?-her slackerised nature? no...-her strong bonds with her bed(practically in the mornings) ? no...-her ears emitting pus? yes...Yes, no need to rub ur eyes..my ears seems to be infected with something(ie: bitten by a horrid little bug or a allegic rxn to some cheap earring i bought heh)
I went to private clinic and the doc told me it was a normal allegic rxn. But my mum swore my ears were gonna rot and just drop off one day took me to the polyclinic to get a letter of referral to the hospital. My check up's tommorrow, when the 1986 batch of pple are getting all nervous and excited over their results, I'll be at the hospital praying that they don't have to amputate my ears.
Standing at the ticket counter of Plaza Singapore, she was waiting for her date to arrive. Glancing at her handphone she realised that he was 10mins late. Inside her head, wild crazy thoughts started brewing. "why is he late? did something happen to him?!" Pressing hard against the stiff buttons of her Nokia 8210,she decided to find out if he's okay. But something caught her eye. A young guy, probably in his twenties, carrying a huge bouquet of blood-red roses swaggering towards her direction. On his face was a confident boyish grin. In swift fast steps he stopped infront of a sweet-looking girl whose back was facing him. Quietly, he placed the huge bouquet behind his back in attempt to hide it from the girl. He tapped her on her shoulder and presented the roses to her.The girl gasped and hugged the guy fiercely.
"awww...so romantic!" whispered a lady next to her.
............................
Romantic? What excatly does that mean? Getting your girlfriend flowers that cost ten times more on this certain day of the year?
Well, there you have it. romance is wonderful and it is also unreal.
romance would be like going to work in your office and your secetary passes you a bouquet of beautiful roses. Happily you carry it into your office and find that your office is covered with roses too. And on your desk is a handwritten note saying" A rose for every moment I spent thinking about you"
Or...Strolling in the park on a lovely evening. And you find the cutest group of silky terrier puppies each wearing a cute red bow-tie and around their necks hangs a sign saying 'Do you want me?'. Being an animal lover you cant resist. Suddenly from the bush emegers your boyfriend. Like the puppies he wears a red bow-tie complete with the 'Do you want me' sign. Opening his arms wide, he asks" Will you marry me?" Screaming yes, you jump into his embrace.
Romance is something you dream about, something you fantasize...If it happens everyday then it would take away the delight of indulging in daydream.
How was my valentine's day? Well, I couldnt have asked for a better one.
For me, the best part of valentine's day was looking to my side and seeing my loved one right beside me. That's all the romance I need.
NO, not a teeny weeny brown twig-stick (the kind u use when ure in primary sch. Squating over a half-buried object in the sand with your bunch of friends heh.)
NO, I did not go for some kind of sex change.
I got a hockey stick. haha.
I feel so weird carrying it home today. Felt like I'm posing as a hockey player. bad feeling. Hell, I'm just a beginner...
Description of hockey stick: -long,
-wooden
-all red.
Red is supposed to bring good luck right? Well, with my sucky playing skills and inability to improve, I need all the good luck i can get.
-Sensitive- You're Sensitive, and you'd like to stay that way. Sorry,listened to a bit too much Jewel there. You're sweet and very emotionally charged. You definitely love the person you're with, and always want to know how they're feeling so you can make sure they're happy.
"Do NOT, at any cost, allow your life to be routine"
6:30am---you slip into your worn out sport shoes and bend down to pick up the scattered newspprs laid on the front of your door by your friendly newsppr man. You groan as you straighten your back. You realise you're aching all over due to the rigorous hockey practise yesterday.
6:35am---you step into the air-con double deck bus and climb up the stairs with your eyes half closed. Twenty minutes ltr you jerk awake finding a small spot of sliava on ur blouse. Quickly, you wipe away the excess sliava around your mouth and your eyes dart around the bus to see if anyone saw that little embarrassing episode.
8something---you decide that gravity is at its strongest at this time in the morning as you attempt to climb all 4 flights of stairs to your classroom. Your mission to get your butt safely on that blue plastic chair before any bo liao teacher catches you for ankle socks.
8something++-----you lie back on your chair and survey the classroom. They are as dead as you are.
5 minutes later, everyone in class is seated up straight at their desk, chairs all the way in, notepad open on the desk and a pen in the hand. why? there can only be one reason.......fahy.
Have you ever seen a senior citizen doing flying kicks.Or throwing the chair around? Or maybe even banging his head against the wall?
well, that's Mr fahy for you. 3 absolutely crazy acts, that I cannot detect the slightest logic from, in just one day....
I'm back! And better then ever. why? cuz im in love!
But before i elaborate that, let me share with you some random stuff...
(1)i look like a monster w/o specs!
(2)tennis guys are cute!
(3)tadpole sucks!
(1) I purchased a pair of contacts two weeks ago. I wore them @ home only as I'm pretty hideous w/o my specs. heh. Well,something came over me and i decided to wear them out ytd. Gawd,I must have freaked jo out. Saw a couple of pple I know in town,stared at them and they looked at me like some complete stranger. This led me to the conclusion that I'm un-recongisable w/o my specs........oh well.
(2): tennis guys are cute!
I recently caught the french...I mean australian open on supersports...and wow andy roddick is cute! heh. I've come to the conclusion that tennis guys have this amazing build that makes many girls swoon n drool over them. One very good example is joel. *blush* So single girls out there, if your physical expectations of a boyfriend are any like mine...den tennis guys are the way to go.
(Of cuz there are exceptions,certainly there are guys out there who are stumpy,scrawny and yet wields the racquet as skillful as they are of wiping their backsides with one hand...so dun blame me if u end up with stickman tennis boy.)
**try also----rugby players, sweemers, bball-ers and those who grew up on supplements.
(3)This highly reccomdend comedy bored me to stitches. Predictable plot...they depend soley on the witty comments to capture the audiences' attention....the only interesting thing i can rem abt the movie is this quote from voltatire, i think,...
"The composition of tragedy requires testicles"
gee, too tired...so tired that ,my blogging skills have gone to sleep. heh.
7 days since I last blogged.
In these 7 days my brain has undergone a torturous transition from being stagnant for a yr plus to becoming active yet again.
Mr Fahy. That's the name of my home tutor. He's really tall and has a hairy beard, skin is totally pale and bright blue piercing eyes.A booming voice and eccentric behaviour.
It took only one meeting with him to convince myself that the next three months would be abusolute hell. He walked in and took off his glasses, eyed each and everyone of us and yelled "SHUTUPP!"
He moved on to say that there was to be no idle minds in his class, no slouching,no singlish, no talking, no "can i go to the toilet?" in his class.
The subsequent lessons with him was abusolutely horrid. Clammy hands, irregular heart beats, dry throats, strained backs and eyelids that some way or another defies gravity were common during his lessons.
But now...I think he's a great teacher. In the sense that I can learn alot from him. So what if he makes a fool out of me? so what if he provokes me? so what if he spits his sliava at alarming rates when excited? so what if i might suffer from a heart attack in the midst of his class?... As long as I learn something from him.
Time...one of the many things he touched upon in his speeches...at the stroke of midnight the day will end....and how much have u accomplished? How much have you squeezed out of this day? Once its midnight 16th Jan 2003 will disappear and never, never will it come again...
Mr fahy kinda reinforces what Ms Choo said in sec 4... no day but today
Progeria --- rapid ageing. A baby diagonised with progeria will, by the time he's 8, be in the physical condition that of a 80 year old. If u had progeria, what would you do with each day that you have?
I've an essay due tomorrow. "what is an interesting life?" I havent started yet! haha
any ideas?
Lovely monday afternoon, here I am seated in front of my computer,hugging my red ikea heart pillow, drinking delicious HL chocolate milk and devouring the last piece of capuccino -flavoured kwissmass cake.
what's wrong with this picture, u ask....well cuz im supposed to be in school. heh. Consider today the first official time i poned school in the year 2003. but will it be the last?...
I took another SAT diagnosis and my scores are very disturbing. The conclusion reached by analyzing my results are that my spelling,grammar, vocab is (or is it 'are'?) very very bad. And I have a tendancy, when the MCQ question is a maths-related one (all the numbers,equations and algebra), to pick answer that looks the nicest. MCQ maths qns just don't appeal to me. The fact that the workings u so tediously came up with will not be worth any marks really doesn't appeal. I mean u cld have spent half the time scribbling here and there and rattling ur brains to just shade one little box of the OTAS sheet and some wise guy with plently of luck cld just like throw a dice and get the same answer as u, not to mention the same marks.
Anyways, i'm on a mission to increase my vocab. I figured my grammar and spelling is beyond help. So that leaves my vocab. heh.
Actually jo, i agree with you. I don't think my fetish is food. Instead I think it's....
