De one with Get Out!

Warmest Earth hours day

I have been keeping quiet from everyone. Am beginning to feel the pinch from having made hard decision to depart. Like drugs wading within the bloodstreams, its dauntingly affect my emotion and thoughts. Honestly, I dislike this totally. Disgusted. Urgh.

Least to mention, the hot weather's not providing any salvation. I need to get this out of my system. Need it now! Need it fast!

De one with Frustrated

Eccentric weather

With much frankness, past week had been rather frustrating. I'm keeping my cool but the frustration is boiling within and god-knows-when the lid will reach its melting point. 

Am afraid everyone wouldn't agree more: leaving shouldn't be a rush affair. On the contrary, it ought to be an amicable, decelerating process for the hand-over. Just this month alone is  fairly depressing. Se-rious-ly. Yi po wei ping, yi po you qi. It's like a never-ending story! I'm perturbed by this. It all came so abrupt and uninvited without prior notice!

To aggravate the worse, I felt maligned. Especially by someone clouded with prejudice about you. Certain things just have to happen at wrong timing with the wrong person! In circumstances like this, do and I'm damned, do without and I'm damned. It's tormenting! *Hands up*, I just keep quiet and observe. Other times? I simply don't understand why humans, albeit created in God's image, have to pick against each other?! We are humans afterall, mistakes are inevitable. When you foresee the likelihood of problems what others can't, and you have the answer or chance to pre-empt the mistake, why don't you just tell me what's to be done in the first place, eradicate info-asymmetry than waiting to be pleased/watch the drama unfold?  =(

 

I called upon my fellow "musketeers" who met for desserts and coffee. The night was young, they brought me to a chic bar on the rooftop. As long as there was drinks, chillout, i thought, "Why not?". Turns out, the service was ridiculously, adversely bad! What turned out to be euphorically mind-easing transformed into an aura of immersed negativity, swirling like a tornado, encircling me. The drinks and bill though FOREVER to come, as if they run out of paper or water or something. Boo.. I swore my face wasn't as black as the night blanket skies, deprived of stars. It's a rare phenomenon. Trust me.

I recall my RSM has this rubber stress-relieving gadget. How it works? You hold it in your palm and squeeze. By doing this, you channel all in-built stress into exerting force when squeezing. I guess we all need distraction to slimmer down. Violence doesn't solve anything. Just gimme a hug and I'll be alright. Awww...

De one with Fake

Intimidating evening

Google images

Had an epiphany on my journey home. Without being emo, just figuring out what have I been doing to improve/enrich my soul?

Amongst so many things which I'll table below:
Activities and stuff...                                        Beneficial/improvement to...
1) Swimming, running, gym-exercise                Physical
2) Face-maintenance                                       Physical
3) Shopping                                                    Physical
4) Food                                                          Energy
5) Bible reading and attending services              Spiritual
6) Reading                                                      Intelligence
7) Watching musical                                        Pysche

I sensed something's missing. What about the life achievements? Things like how I learnt to play the drum, the pride of belonging to a "one heart, one soul" group, the gratitude from balancing work and studies, be approached and respected for something I'm really good at.. What have I been accomplishing recently? Uneventful.

The search for food for the soul seemed to have been neglected. Conversation with people no longer intrigue my curiousity and eagerness to learn and remember details about what they've said. Not that I'm not listening, I am, just not so much about being able to converse like a social butterfly anymore. I get bored easily. Could it be a symptom of ageing? Or plain exhaustion from nights of deprived early sleep or rest?

Perhaps I've stopped schooling after graduation. There's no continual push to stimulate the brain to work. Brain juice appears to become stagnant given the mandate procedures and stress-coping at work.

Sigh, where is/are the avenues to invest passion in?! Helplessly feel like a dimlly-lit, flickering white candle, located within the mass of diverse-colored candles, all burning like trip-flares, fierce and bright.

De one with The Lion King

Nants ing-onyama-bagi~thi baba (There comes a lion)

Sithi~uhhmm ingonyama (Oh yes, it's a lion)

Saturday evening was like a three-dishes course. Only in reverse sequence: Entree with desserts; followed by main course; and the end with anticipation of what's to come.

Dessert was definitely sweet and private, albeit having the next table just centimeters away. Perhaps it was start up and/or the presence of proximate audiences to our conversations, so the atmosphere was alittle still and quiet. But nonetheless, I must say with the first-time dinning experience at T.W.G, accompanied with an authentic pleasant tea-savoring and jotful dinning companion, the 30 to 40 minutes fared an overall 4/5 teaspoons.

From SplashMagazines

From Bam's blog

The curtain unfolds to reveal an African lady in hue make-up and obvious costume that gave her role away as Rafiki, the Baboon. Her bright voice announced the opening to the glamorous performance of "Circle of Life", a familiar tune that left a deep impression the very first time I watched Disney production in 1996. As if we're in an episode of Glee, the remaining cast, dressed up in elaborated animals costumes (there were herons, elephant, oryx, gazelle, giraffes, zebras, cheetah) flocked in through the aisles. The "Glee" technic. Haha.

I was impressed with the stage props actually. The glittering stars, fireflies bulbs, geyser eruptions, the trishaw gazelles, birds on kites. I love the scene of the stampede. The dimensional display of the approaching wildebeest was an eye-opener. It was like going for range and all the various size of targets are dancing on stage. And of course, the actors and actresses left a good impression with their powerful voices, singing familiar pieces composed by Elton John, musical by Hans Zimmer (one of my all-time favourite music composer). Special compliments goes to young Nala who had an incredible strong voice that appeals to the ear. They even present a few new songs (one rock-and-rock hyenas song, the others by grown Nala and Simba).

From A.M.Richardson

Finally, there were pretty humorous scenes. Particularly coming from Zazu (with his "Rasa sayang" song) and Timon (who roared the audience with his "Singlish")!

What wasn't very nice was certain parts fell short of expectations. The aircondition and seats weren't that fantastic. Stage's alittle too small. And certain scenes like "Can you feel the love tonight" should have been more romantic; the lioness crying with too long streams of ribbons..please; if only the magnificent prop of Mufasa spirit could move, woah, it'd have been better!!

With courtesy of Disney Dreaming

Overall, I'd give it a 3.5 bones for the musical. If only the programme book cost 10 bucks less, I might just give another 0.5 bone to the rating. Haha. 

It was pretty late, so we headed home shortly after the show. I thought, that was the end but well, there was more to look forward to... Wonderful evening. The lion, dinner and home trip!

De one with Food (Part 1)

Warm night

With global food prices rising at alarming rates, it is difficult not to blog something about it!

Although it appears Jason's easy-going with dinning experiences, those who know me well would probably tap you on the shoulder and convey that I'm pretty particular with food in fact. The office knows I dislike unhealthy food, especially those looks give the impression you're here for an oil-buffet; My closest friends worry when they bring me to buffets because I go for variety and not quantity; My family knows my never-changing favorites; even my exes take note of my affairs with food.

Perhaps it is best to clarify further. Picky "taste" doesn't equal demanding preference over food cuisines. In any case, I'd like to add a disclaimer clause (*grins*), I'm not a food critic, therefore do pardon my humble knowledge of food. It's limited! Haha

This blog on food shall come in two installments. The first focuses on the core aspects of food which I love, like, dislike and hate. The second will dwell on the types of cuisines I'd prefer. So yep, potential dinning buddies, kindly put on your spectacles if required, turn on your eye power and under desperate measures, feel free to take notes with your pen and paper readied.

When it comes to food, there are certain factors which ultimately determine our personal taste and preferences about food. I'd have to apply what I've acquired of marketing knowledge, twist a little bit to present the following "pull" and "push" criterias:
 

Price and bane list

When it comes to food, I'm certainly not into exquisite stuff. I reckon you'd recognise some without having me mentioning. Exquisite "delicacies" refer to abalone, snow-crabs, lobsters, sea-urchins, shark fins, monkey brains, bear's paws. I suppose the only exorbitant food off the bane list would be bird's nest (it's my personal remedy for cough).

Price is not an issue but affordable. Considering I'm not a food fanatic / someone being paid to taste, I guess it doesn't make sense to spend excessively over food that's gona be.. you know what I mean. Usually, it triggers the economist-mind in me to consider if the food's worth it's price. For example, a fish and chip from a hawker can't possibly cost 25 bucks. If it is, there better be a good combination that justifies its obviously over-pricing.



Texture

Texture of edible food is very important. If it's squashy or slummy, please refrain from serving it on a plate before me. Why pay for a meal that taste like cooked rubble bands or scrap tyres? Haha. So yup, I guess mushrooms (except jin zhen gu since it's a steam-boat must-have!), jelly-fish, sotongs (apart from calamaris) are definitely no no's.

Does that mean I'd draw boundaries with Mediterranean or seafood? Not really. It depends how those are cooked. Just don't have me something that requires me to chew for 10 minutes, the longer it lingers in my mouth, erm, i'd take twice the time to deliver it into my Oesophagus.

Oh oh! Anything with bones, fish bones especially! I hate it. It has nothing to do with a bad experience with choking. Never had it before. Don't wish to tempt with it either. It puts me off. While others are enjoying curry fish head, I guess I spend more time, dissecting and QC-ing the piece of fish to detect any camouflaged tiny weeny bones in the flesh at the corner of my plate.


Dry noodles are hazards to my throats and absurd. This is relevant to pastas and noodles which are deprived of sauces. Total turnoff.


Taste

Oh boy, safe to say Jason's pretty easy with tastes. Just not too overly salty. I don't wanna be a beneficiary of NKF donations fund (no offense meant). Sourness are only for beverage and fruits, and specially for tom yum soup. For everything else, unless there's any lemon used in the dish, it'd probably raise my eyebrows and ponder if the ingredients had gone bad?

Bitterness are intolerable. I always say "life is bitter enough, why eat something to make your life more bitter than it already is?!". I recall ordering the wrong vegetable from a "cai fan" store during JC. It turned out to be bittergourd! Omg. The weird taste lingered in my memory for almost a week before I regained the confidence to order any vegetables. Yes, it was horrifying.


Presentation

Would you eat something that looks like garbage? I'd probably would. Personal belief, it's no harm trying. I mean, don't judge a dish by it's presentation. That being said, it doesn't necessary mean if it's presented on a plate that's unhygienic or bears some disgusting insect corpse lying its glory on a bed of food that you're about to consume. These create an enigma. Remember the alarming news of roche or curry sauce that have maggots in it. Yuck. Its pain inflicted on our psyche. =X

At the end of the day, alot might argue presentation does matter. This is of high regard when a celebrity chef or some japanese customer is present. If it does, it's a bonus and appetite whetting. If it doesn't, don't throw the dish aside just yet. Efforts are invested to every dish prepared I'd think.


Ambiance

If I were to rate all these criterias, ambiance would probably rank third. No point being in a place that's awesome with the wrong company, undesirable environment. Deep-felt, I don't really like overly-crowded places, being surrounded in a clatter depresses me. I prefer quieter, soft-lighted places. Not necessarily having a restaurant involved. Sitting in a park, chewing packet food could fare as well as one with velvet chairs or posh tables.

Friendly staff is desirable. Of course, we can't expect the same from hawker centres. But I'd think basic politeness between a customer and vendor is primarily important. If service is bad, I'd probably walk out even before ordering anything.

Last by not least, smell of eating places are crucial too. Sitting at oil-smelling places cause me to feel nausea. Especially when you sit near char kwey tiao stores where the mist of evaporated oil blankets and suffocates you. Pepper lunch never fail to make me think twice. Once the oil stench gets on your clothes, it's a tough battle getting it off for what remains of your day. Good luck!


A creation of heart

If you bake me a cake or even buy something for me, I'll probably comment alot but 10 out of 10 times, I'd be supportive/appreciative to try and finish my share. That doesn't make you can make a guinea pig out of me yea. Its a polite gesture. And of course, I dislike rejecting people who are nice, subject to those with ulterior motives, strangers and quashy of course!

De one with Recent Break-Up

Decisive

It is said we tend to recall the beginning when the end closes in on us. This... I won't beg to differ. As I typed the breakup letter, fresh memories recollect like the reassembling of a shatter glass in rewind.

The initial first few days with the company was dreadful and tiring. Coming from no accounting background, I was like a brittle blank page tiding against fast approaching winds. My first 8 official hours dwell around arduous 3 years of compilation, followed by another 3 years of audit on the same dormant company. It was so chaotic it left a deep impression: Struggling with chaotic accounting entries, coupled with tough battles with administration and drafting of reports. Urgh reports! There were approximately 15 pages within each report. Each page took me pains from repetitive amendments on the alignment of text, grammar mistakes, figures-tallying, text fonts size, line-spacing, boldness of lines. It was mentally draining. But Jason perserved.

I was terrible at  the "language of business"- complete foreign to me. Just couldn't gasp or comprehend what these debits and credits mean?! Why expenses and assets are the former, why liabilities, equity and income, latter. That's not all! There were sub-categories under these major class. Horrible and messy experience. For a moment in time, I thought Emperor Augustus and Luca Pacioli might awake from their graves to smack my palms. Fortunately, perseverance stayed through with me, determination was called upon... for reinforcements.

Half a year later, my work ripped labor. I grew eager and nurtured speed and efficiency at work. Staying late became part of my life, least to mention the weekend sacrifices adopted to complete my work within the shortest possible time. A year later, I felt like I'm on top of the world. Not only was I excelling academically, job satisfaction level clock its peak and I swore I never felt more confident. All things that go out must come down. The euphoria survived a few months until my brother's incident caught us like a bolt out of the blues. Grey clouds swiveled and resided for awhile. Albeit all the lament, I remembered dragging my sleep-deprived and emotionally-battered self to fulfill a pre-arranged appointment at client's place the morning following admitting my brother to the hospital. That was a pretty brave thing to do. It was seriously crazy. Anything to account for responsibility to the company.

Perhaps its Murphy Law's at play. Things went downhill as far as relationship, family, studies and work are of concern. Pulling me apart like a ring of magnetic field. Overwhelmed, I sat down, exercised priority and placed work over my two-year relationship. Did it hurt for coming to a decision? Certainly. As it was pure unhappiness, I could only remember vividly, everything was crumpling down but I didn't utter a sound. I never felt the need to announce my sadness. That was when I figured my way out and later, developed a "love-at-first-bite/sight" with cheesecake and Swarovski. Things that never fail to melt my heart.

The thirst for adventure couldn't deny the boredom which sets in eventually. This is particularly why I'd start to feel lost and start losing faith. Doing something for long became routine, likewise for audit. The company wanted to promote me, but i deferred. No point pushing me into something I'm not mentally prepared or willing to commit. Something Mohan said had long-imprinted in memory: "Are you gonna remain an intern (undergraduate) forever?". Fair enough, I weighed the costs and benefits and decided it was time to focus on my academic. No doubt there were times I had to go back for a few days during my unpaid leave, at the expense of my examination revision. Thinking back, it was a real selfish act towards myself when I knew I was running out of time.

Most comprehensible it is arduous when it comes to train or duplicate yourself within a company. Not to mention the kind of emotion distress to see your peers leaving. Come on, I myself witnessed almost 10 colleagues resigning, it's no joke we feel the pinch to have them leaving an empty desk the next day you come to work. Sure, it's fairly acceptable, considering the nature of the profession where staff turnover are at alarmingly high rate. But we are humans after all.

Despite having said what precedes, I guess the reasons to leave somewhat justify the end. Basically, I figured its time to move on for better opportunities. I'm eager to see what auditors outside are conducting their audit approaches, how they document, the type of industries and exposure they get. On the other hand, the company needs new blood. It is not due to giving up, or stress that I can't shoulder. As a matter of fact, I did place all these on a balance scorecard, tabulated the results. Deployed costs and benefits analysis and therein indicates to leave would be in the best interest for the company and myself.

We tend to question what the company could give us. I'd think otherwise. It should be mutual. When I sat myself down to think about what more to give? Nothing comes to mind. This is scary. But it serve as a warning that it's in the best interest to leave.

At the end of it, sure, my uncle and best friend instill their "nobody's indispensable" ideology constantly. This is an undeniably practical and logical mindset. But I wouldn't say I'm a desirably bright employee. Just responsible enough to do things within my means. We should always look forward to how we can grow and best contribute where we have never ventured in. Just so, although it's difficult to part myself from comfort zone.

It is sorrowful to leave, but I figured it's a pain not to. I guess I've paid my dues. A better decisions for all of us, don't you think? 

De one with My Brother

Smoky day

The white window sheets seemed to have come alive, spots of the evening sun flickered through the patterned gaps on the sheets, as if to add sparkles to the divine-looking sight. I gazed across the unconcealed part of the window, caught a peek at the water-blue skies, felt the breeze and conjured memories of my younger brother, Jimson.

Like the aquarius fills his jar with water, the image of Jimson in his wheelchair form from smoke as I looked upon my lazy hand, outstretched over the boundaries of my bed. I recalled the time I had fell sick, in bed and there was my younger brother, beside me and sayang-ing with his tiny hands, until he fell asleep.

I remembered how jealous I was when he arrived at home but all hostility melted away when my family got me to hold him in my boyish hands.

Jimson was born with down-syndrome, something the family didn't get bothered at all. I treated him normal, played rough games with him, helped him at special school. I remembered the vexing days when I was undergoing puberty, having to deal with all the unpleasant changes within my body, emotions and bearing the frustration of my mummy, trying to feed breakfast to my brother, who was throwing tantrum all the time.

My mind recollected my secondary school holidays when my granny faced deteriorating health and thus unable to fetch and accompany my younger brother at his school. And I had to replace her, followed him to school in a catered school bus and roam around MacPherson, trying to spend hours, finding a place and reading "Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone".

Jimson loved mini toy cars. I even deprive myself of pocket money, some NSpay to buy these as presents occasionally.

Later, I recalled applying for NS leave, to visit my younger brother, who had to undergo a surgery to correct his spine problems, a hard decision my mummy had to make, pinning hopes for him to be able to walk again.

I remembered the painful memories of being helpless the night Jimson turned blue in the middle of the night, having troubles breathing as if he had stroke. I recalled waiting anxiously outside the A&E. It was really hurtful. I remembered holding my tears at the ICU, until such a point the ECG screen marked a straight line to indicate the end of Jimson's life journey.

I braved it all, the heartache and memorable moments. He was a joyful person, highly sociable and everything that I loved to be but wasn't innated with. I loved him more than words to say, despite there are times I dreaded him. Being the elder child, I thought my parent's most worry is him. Turns out, mummy's greatest worry was the both of us.

When people asked about him, I'd usually smile and say i'm alright to talk about him. 'D even say I'm proud and blessed to have him for a brother, albeit my nonsensical wish of having a twin brother. Deep down, I missed him infinitely. So happens, today, I'm missing him so much, tears brimmed my eyes as I blogged about this.

De one with Dr Michaels

Results day

After 24 hours of excruciating pain, one week's wait for IVU and pricks, 7 days and a few hours later is the day when I got the results to all this kidney stone saga. Unfortunately, it's a confirmed case of kidney stone. 2mm in diameter, located towards the top of my left kidney. White-spot on the xray-film, explained the doctor after I asked him to show and explain to me. Interesting session.

Naturally, I asked if there was any way to get rid of this burden. The doctor explained it's too tiny and high chance (90%) it'd exit the body through urination.

There are however, two operational procurements. First being the lithotripsy, which uses x-ray or laser to disintegrate the stones. Second being the ureteroscopy, involves sending a tube up urine system through the ureter to the kidney - a painful experience to blast the stones in the kidney.   

Are the preceding remedies above applicable to me? The doctor said both are unnecessary and definitely not worth the pain and trouble. For now, what's best is to do nothing, and come back for observation to see if the stone would be gone in exactly 365 days later.

Well, no operation and high chance of the stone being passed out normally seem comforting yet, being skeptical, there were other issues that I was concerned with. What if the stone grows and the relapse of the agonising pain-experience? He says it's possible. In the event of stone growth before or during the follow-up, operation would be imperatively executed. For pain wise, I just have to take painkillers (hate it, it's narcotics) and come back for immediate actions.

Oh well, and of course pray hard, all additional troubles do not event and even better,
"Kidney stones go away,
Flush yourselves out from my body
and never ever come back again!"

If there's any consolation? The doctor's named Michael, the same name as the doctor who treated me at A&E. Seems like kidney stones are popular with Dr Michaels. Or could it be pure affinity? Haha.

De one with Fever Fever Go Away

Prescriptive note

With courtesy of Mark Pari

Didn't realise my voice turned coarse until I dialed office to clarify certain matter. Was reprimanded when my supervisor knew I clashed at client's place despite of my fever. Was on the phone with Clara (thank God for blessing me with such a supportive friend) yesterday, ok, I'm afraid the beautiful part ceases here temporarily, she nagged at me over me being dehydrated and taking no effort to replenish fluid-intake.

Well, I'm not gonna reveal what's the mysterious cause of it. The more critical thing was this stubborn fever appears to be bent on killing me. It's haunted me since last Thursday. Every morning I find myself awake with cold sweat. Something's not right. To be honest, I've not been having quality sleep. Stressed? Messed-up? Occupied? The selections could go on continuously but I seriously have no idea at all. Bummer.

What's the worst thing that could ever happen to me? For now, it's this fever that's not going away. Sigh. It's burnt a hole in my heart. Please, just chill and go away.

De one with Burnt

Sombre

Wipe that smile off thy face;
Canst thou not see bleeding tears and pain,
From which set thine burning in flames;
Ashes of scars that prick insane.

The sacred stone has melt to flesh;
Cry not handsome nor cutie prey,
Vicious world of loving-hate;
How have thine burn in felon fate.

Perhaps its karma;
Perhaps its fate;
Perhaps its fuming of passion's rage.

Thy dosage rain of needled canes;
Scorn thy heart with acid aim.
Spirit dissolve in phantom phase.

Oh when will that lining shine again;
Deepest thee far far away.

Craving thoughts of unsettled fame.

Couldn'st speak of songless grain.

De one with Falling and Getting Up

Idleness

Wonder what's wrong with me. In search of some answers, I guess my manager hit me in the nail: It's the time of the year I'm cranky and ultra insecure and my actions, behavior and speech are inevitably affected. Trust me, it's not for the better. Where's that remote control to eject these craziness?

Refused to believe it's an annual vicious cycle but the evidences before me convey otherwise. To be honest, I'm getting sick of not being able to control myself or what's happening around me per se. Speaking of which, I'm fell sick again. Hate it to the max. It means disruption to my running and swimming routine and living days without having to eat. What triggered my cold? Was working at the lawyers' office which feels like locking myself in a refrigerated box or chiller room. I recall leaving work on Thursday, shivering and feeling all uneasy. Everyone was complaining about the warm weather, I felt the complete opposite. Decided to got home early after work, ate some self-help pills and messaged up to a point the medication worked its drowsy magic and sent me off to hibernation mode.

Friday's no good either. Although the nose-dripping's under control, I woke up feeling all burned up. Should have stay home to nurse the deteriorating health but work responsibilities backed me up to go to work. And of course, a look-forward dinner appointment. It turned out disappointed but there was nothing I could do. Carpe diem, managed to find myself some dramatic night of events that got me traveling all over the nation and contributing so much revenue to SMRT. Sigh.

Perhaps it's due to the cold virus and stubborn nights of late nights' sleep, I didn't wake until near 11 plus this morning. A troubled heart, exhaustion and burning body. It was as if I was a reborn phoenix in a pile of flames. Now that I replenished some sleep, the fever's resided alittle. I hope the fate of others' I care about ain't as bad as mine. Have yourselves a good old eventful weekend pea--purr..

De one with Courage

Dictatus

I must say it was one of the life's bravest moment. If there was a nomination for the worst, most demoralising, depressing dressing-down, it's gotta be yesterday evening's script. It was really bad, to a stage that qualified to pull the trigger to summon buckets of tears. Yes, my eyes were brimming with tears, threatening to explode like a release dam but I sat there, staring blankly at the desktop. Glad I survived it.

I must say I was astonished with the infallible courage that night. Didn't even head to the restroom. Sat there and did what I could to rectify and complete the job with a tsunami-wreck and ache in my gut.

De one with Voiceless Want

Blog-surgery day

Sounds common but true. The things we want most are things that doesn't come with a price tag.

De one with 30 Good Things (Part II)

Air of thoughts

16) Smelling fruity tea-leaves
17) Giving up seats to elderly
18) Speak and having the entire crowd listen to me
19) Reading, with hot beverage when it drizzles outside
20) Seeing the glow on other people's face when I drew something for him/her

21) Nostalgic stuff
22) Cuddled within cosy warm sheets
23) Being in a jacuzzi or bath tub
24) Listening to others
25) Closing my eyes with tranquility

26) Smelling good myself
27) Spotting a wishing star
28) Having another seated close to me
29) Friendly dogs
30) Epiphany

"When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad" - My Favourite Things,

"The Sound of Music", Rodgers and Hammerstein, 1959

De one with 30 Good Things (Part I)

Air of thoughts

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things" - My Favourite Things,

"The Sound of Music", Rodgers and Hammerstein, 1959

1 ) Crossing the finishing line of a marathon
2 ) Being cheered on by your friends
3 ) Someone who sings a Jay Chou love song's sweet and sexy
4 ) Wearing something that's mood lifting
5 ) Touchdown of the plane I'm in

6 ) Confidence restoring words
7 ) Hugging and rejoicing in tears
8 ) Bright sunny day
9 ) Good meal after a major assignment
10) Endorphins

11) Blushing
12) Taste of my favourite Shiraz
13) Doing others a favor
14) Smiling and being smiled at
15) Dedication


.... to be continued

De one with Questioning Faith

Smoky day

"Which religion would you like to place yourself under?" asked the immigration officer calmly as she gazed up from her computer screen, after inputting my particulars in the I/C application form.

It took me awhile before I replied "free-thinker" before looking at Mummy with an expression that pleaded for her acknowledgment. However, it wasn't my religion that got me concerned. Ironically, it was the possibility of inserting my Christian name into the I/C that did.

Apparently, the incomplete personal sense of belonging to any existing religion didn't affect me. This was foreign since I was brought up in a family who was mainly Taoist and attended neighborhood schools which were non-Catholic nor Methodist. Public holidays provide a fair chance of reminding me of religious traditions, but it didn't leave a deep relation to the significance of religion since we were too happy, freed from one day or school/work.

My affinity with religion identity didn't arrive until my interaction with friends and dates who were Buddhist, Christian and Catholics. Well, there was this JC girl I used to like who joined SOKA. Wait a minute, before you jump into a judgemental conclusion that I'm being blinded with love and doing impulsive things for love, read what follows. I guess it was the thirst to understand about the history and novice traditions of such religions that I opened myself to accepting and experiencing the "colourful" practices such as services, chat about the divergent believes, and importantly, the eye-opening religious perspective.

This quest to quench religion-comprehension, however, didn't get me soaking my feet in the deep pool of commitment. No, it's not the lack of passion and excitement, rather I didn't wish to restrict myself from the multi-religious exposure I was enjoying. Commitment is an extremely private and considerable life-decision and often irrevocable once engaged with. Hence, the exercise of caution before having it permanently-reside in my life. That being said, it doesn't mean religion represent something dispensable.

Nobody told me why we place so much faith in religion or what's the importance of having religion. All young Jason knew was be good, do good because there's a mighty power named God, who witness us from above. Movies and cartoons have installed the image of heaven, located somewhere indeterminately high up in the sky, despite it appears superficial when compared to our knowledge of stratosphere and planetary system from primary school sciences. If we didn't behave, we'd land up in hell (an utterly unpleasant, fearsome place filled with nothing but torture) other than heaven (a dreamy place of eternal happiness and blessing). Later, I came to know about Adam and Eve, the procreation of Earth which could only be read about through religion.

When we talk about heaven and hell, images of good and evil are inevitably conjured to our mind. This provides a basis often for us to find ourselves falling back on religion for spiritual support and defense against evil. The existence of religion's no longer encompass an possessive teaching to book-keep personal good conduct but also praying to have our thoughts, wishes communicated to the guy above to feel security, comfort and ease from predicaments.

Furthermore, growing up with religion clarified the ambiguity of the multiple addressing and identities of God proclaimed by countless religious bodies.

Call me a late-bloomer, yet I couldn't care less. Did I forget to mention what I adore most about religion? It were the fascinating background stories of religious figures, not just the trinity (being the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit) but also those of deities (chinese and malays). My ex and attendance at various service sermons enlighten and delighted me with the history and stories from the Bible. The magical part? Never fails me finding these overwhelmingly amazed, the analogies which shred light on meanings to life. Religions don't only provide us with a sense of security and belonging/ monitor our conduct but also purpose of life. The word's most beautiful and sweet flower being the Rose; the profitable metal in the world reowned by Gold. The most touching religious statement I ever heard from a hard-to-come-by acquaintance had to be "God lives in our hearts". It derived me a moment of "grace" literally. To feel grace is to accept something. And I suppose this could provide a logical explanation to why people accept religion in their hearts.

In my opinion, religion acceptance is definitely a matter of choice. It shouldn't be imposed upon. In recent, I wouldn't deny certain conservative families still observe a common religion within their members, the rest, especially the young generations almost find themselves the liberty when adopting own religious views. There's nothing wrong with promoting religion, spare the sharing-enthusiast aside, I simply don't enjoy being questioned or interrogated why we choose to be free-thinkers or for others, atheist.

Pretty unpleasant experiences with people preaching obsessively on how inevitable we'd be condemned to hell if we never believe in God. Or only through certain religion would it guarantee your pave to a peaceful afterlife and others can't. Equally, I find it tough to tolerate views of others condemning religious views.

Last night, I was traveling to Clarke Quay. For no reason, this uncle engaged me into talking (no idea why strangers tend to initiate chatting with me) but anyway, he discovered I was a free-thinker and started bombarding about how the Bible is a must-read guide and ticket to heaven. It doesn't matter how many good deeds you've performed. He didn't question nor allow me to explain why I'm a free-thinker and assumed I have never read the Bible, ignorant of all religious views and also queried me on how I'd be answerable to God at the heavenly gates if I never read the Bible. It was a 20 minutes one-way conversation, it didn't "listen" like a discussion at all. Sigh, it was futile to even try to intervene, all I did was smile and listened.

Religion is a beauty. It is to be shared, discussed and influenced rather than allegedly-forced or manipulatively imposed upon believers, non-believers alike. With all due respect, I doubt any God within the universe would want a group of believers who came forth but didn't believe at all or with resentment. 

What is a saint with following rows of prisoners, all bounded in chains whose hands that were bolted with raw stones and blank scripts? What is a king with trust subjects of opposing views as vast as seas and the wrath chaos of wind?

De one with Yesterday

Raining dampened mood

Like all other things within the universe, certain qualities in us could be both a blessing and curse. Fire cooks edible food free of bacterias, keep us warm. At the same time, it could burn whatever comes its pave, creates air pollution, causes devastation. The same fate runs for my perfectionism.

"Perfectionist" often arouse negativity. Common people tend to be under impression of one being obsessively meticulous and more than never, excessively-fussy over details and the nitty gritty. In defense, opposing stands advocate on the merits from striving for perfection: It fuels continuous improvement and advancement breakthrough. As we know, nothing in this world can be perfect. This statement is debatable. The state of being perfect is a flaw itself. Yet, being imperfect indicates there are rooms for growth and/or progression.

Yesterday, my eagerness to perfect my documentation turned out giving the partner the wrong impression that I was trying too hard. Admittedly, this is not the first time I'm hearing this. It's disheartening. Words of affirmation have enormous effects on me, not primarily it's the essence of self-worth, it's one of the essential avenue to remind me to stop and take a break. It's like running a marathon. If there's no finishing line, very likely I'll just keep running effortlessly.

Of course, I didn't feel the need to justify who's right or wrong when I'm being judged. Good or bad, just take it positively. Sure, that's very zen thing to say. To others, they might think this is just clinche talk. Nonetheless, you should have heard the way the comment was voiced and the expression of the sender, it demoralise me. Got me questioning my experience, whether I'm capable / cut out to be what or who I am. I could have confronted my superior and argued, prove my worth of points and feel better. But, having reconsidered, I decided to leave things as it is. I mean, what's the point of creating a hoo-haa that probably make things worse.

One of the things I hate most is argument. Firstly, it's not constructive. The vicious cycle of tension-building, climax, fall and reconciliation from the beginning, middle to end of an argument's just too painful to go through. Secondly, it's simply not my cup of tea. Prefer settling issues amicably to frustrating negotiation and words-sparing. It consumes alot of energy and if without proper-damage control, it's detriment to one another's emotional equilibrium. What do you get out of it? Thirdly, there's no win-win situation. Argument exists as a challenge. The rules of engagement is simple. Two conflicting views. One has to concede defeat and accept the opponent's view. Don't be fooled with the counselor's "beautiful" ending or "reconciliation". Reconciliation can only happen when either of you give in first so that the other would do likewise.

In my opinion, it's true I try too hard at times. That's purely born from my attempt to give in my very best. One of my life principles: "So as long we tried, there's nothing to regret. Carpe diem". Humble without complacent, if I did wrong, tell me where I've gone wrong and teach me the right way of doing things. Just don't make me feel like a failure la.

Was literally weeping inside during work. Yet I didn't feel the need to complain or share my heartbreak with those around me. Put up a brave front, appearing normal and even texting words of encouragement. Emitting sunlight and contained every bit of bitterness within.  It was an awful yesterday. =(

De one with IVU

Health chat

Intravenous Urography was something that I never expected myself to go through. Barely did I know this is the third visit at the hospital for personal, major health issues. 

A few brief background stories to share before moving on. My first visit and stay at the hospital occurred when I was 5-6. My parents rushed me to the hospital due to profuse-vomiting after enjoying centripetal force. Yes, I spun myself while standing still and paused occasionally to savor the thrill of initial force.

My second happened last year due to an unfortunate dengue fever. Recall I was burning up and breaking into cold sweat. The unbearable torment made every cells scream me to drag myself to the hospital alone, around 1+am. The fever-span lasted two weeks. It wasn't until the final day to recovery did my admission to hospitalisation took place. Blood palates were falling way below desired, oh, the unforgettable pain of being pricked for blood-examination daily.

I guess the preceding incident made me immunised against the prick of needles. The medical officer at IVU did something I felt all doctors should do. He shows his concern  for your well-being with a warm question before mentally-preparing you with a countdown to injection. Funny why they keep describing the injection pain as "it's just an ant's bite". Most often, we don't feel bitten by ants. Well, that was what was on my mind, as I stared blankly into the gigantic x-ray machine a couple feets above my abdominal.

-Flashback- Some 30 minutes earlier, arrived on time, my aunt who insisted on accompanying me, was more panicky than myself. For a minute, I thought who was the patient. But she meant well regardless. Regretted not bringing a jacket to the department. the low temperature caused goosebumps to appear on my exposed arms. Got changed into a patient's robe and proceeded to lie on the raised bed in the IVU room.

30 minutes later, the medical officer had trouble locating a visible and potential vein to ensure effective iodine infusion. It took him about 20 minutes, 3 needle-pricks at different locations of both arms to locate a viable attempt. Clearly, my veins were delicate. Sigh. Moreover, the MO emphasised they are deviating from normal practice to use the small needle instead of the average larger one to deliver the infusion. Omg. I was feeling helpless, literally.

The radioactive scan itself took estimatedly 30-40 minutes. A third or quarter of it was waiting time for the contrast medium to lighten the flow of my ureter as the kidney excretes the contrast medium. Multiple x-ray shots were taken after this process termed as "prone" time. Unexplainable. Basically, I lie on the bed and was shifted under the radioactive-emitter for x-ray shots to be taken. Oh, pressure were applied using sponge bags and a film that's capable of tightening, strapped across my mid-section. The poor assistant faced twice attempts doing this before the grip of the wrenching mechanism hit its maximum and the tightening was too loose. Oops, so I did her a favor by expanding my waist as possible. 

Example of an IVU test image. This is not mine. It belongs to an 18 year old obtained from website www.bhj.org/journals

But I'd say it's yet another life experience. Though unwanted. Hopefully, the results show negative for kidney stones. Pray for me, will you?

De one with Beginnings

Memory-testing

They say a person's life would flash before the person's mind before he/she sees the light that signifies the end. Trouble is from now till death, albeit the unpredictability of life and the redundancy of peeking into the book of fate, we already have trouble remembering how memorable relationships got started.

You'd probably ask, why the difficulties in remembering something that's described as "memorable". Logically, it should not be forgotten at all. The truth, unfortunately, is controversial. We all do forget, basically owing to the memory erosion over time.

Ask yourself: What and where exactly took place before you first became friend?

Luckily for mine, I remembered some. I recall I met Loo wan during the first day of JC. We were chased out of Econs lecture. For Clara, we first chatted outside our CT class while she was alone over at the red bar. Mohan during ASC when we were in our detachments. Chin Yu was someone I talked to during one of our training for representing in the battalion's cross-country run. Yes, I remember some required great efforts, some with intented clause, and most others came unexpectedly.

There are, what a shame, some others whom we have came a long way, got so accustomed to each other that I have the slightest bit of remembrance.

This is when I thought, what could we do to safeguard such fond memories from natural's work?
1) Take video/photoshooting?

    Well, wouldn't it be awkward. It's gonna be unnatural. Certain studies have shown, in every 10 persons, there is an average of 6 persons who are camera-shy. Within the same sample, 8 would reasonably want to look good regardless of a video clip or photograph. Without going into detail reasons why, it can be derived this choice is definitely not a one-size-fits-all. I'd find either most people are not born natural stars, hence it takes awhile to get accustomed to be in front of a camera and/or video, especially.

    If the above doesn't applies, here's another reason: Impracticability. Many wouldn't define befriending another as a special moment. It's unlike child-birth or something that can be planned like in the case of 21st birthday celebrations. It's almost absurd to go around introducing ourselves, shaking hands and filming down everybody. Not forgetting, under uncertain this friend would turn out to be an acquittance, best pal or passer-by?  

2) Account for in diaries?

    Well, not for me, I don't keep diaries. The closest I got to diary-writing is this blog. As you can read, it doesn't really account for my daily life, just random topics for sharing or complaints.

    Without prejudice, I'd rather think this works most for females. However, times have changed. Technological changes seemed to have altered our choices of keeping track of daily events. Perhaps blog diaries, apart from minority who still keeps the spirit of conventional methods.

3) Tattoo?

    Seriously, reconsider this option. It's a faithful commitment, one that often leads to regrets. And it usually happens after awhile.

The most practical would be either 2 or for the rest of us, retain such somewhere in our memory cache. Like all living things, it's susceptible to wear and tear, even with maintenance, there's only so much it could last. Haha, sounds like a pretty nostalgic discussion. Try remembering, would you?

De one with I Miss...

Raining desirable days

Honest speaking, it takes a great deal of money and courage to travel solo in foreign lands. Recall being half enthusiastic with butterflies in my stomach while boarding the plane solo to Australia. Arrival wasn't as pleasant as I expected. The immigration officer "interrogated" me, asking all sorts of questions, partially unconvinced a young boy was traveling alone. As far as my memory recollect, they inquired "who bought my ticket? What was the purpose of my visit? Where am I heading to? For how long am I going to be here?". Secondly, I was picked up late. Left my stranded at the arrival hall when all the passengers in the same flight were dismissingly out of sight.

Wouldn't say I'm a travel fanatic, yet it'd still be considerably fair to declare my passion for travel.  Purpose of travel are diverse. These involved relaxation (beach, reading a book at local cafe, suntanning), sightseeing (mountainous areas, places of interest), entertainment (theme parks, shopping malls) or food-tasting (wine bars, local delicacies). Albeit the boundaries of activities and geographical venues visits, what's inherently most enjoyable is being somewhere different (environment, culture, language, temperature wise) as much as history records mine being part of diverging national time.

I always thought: who needs a time machine when we're already time-traveling when aero-machines fetch us across time-borders? Clap your palms in Thailand and you're an hour (on local time GMT +8) into the future. Siren your soul across the Indian Ocean to Sydney, should time pass too rapidly. Don't waste your birthday wishes for the hatchday be prolonged. Take a stroll with the hobbits down to New Zealand where time is way behind local's.

I'd give anything, except my life (cause I need to be alive to wander the globe. Else, a soul has to wait till August annually, according to the Chinese) to be traveling. Now as I'm typing, the mist is clear, the paramount streams of flickering memories missed unveil itself.

Missed the cold air, it's like living in a city that's naturally air-conditioned. Love the particular moment the tender warmth of the sun touches my cool skin, without causing perspiration! Ohh, and the constant need to remind myself to apply lip balm - daunting chore yet it saves torture from cracked lips. Haha. I love the vapours in the surrounding, which makes my hair soft and straight, requiring less gel to style.

Because it is cold, especially in hotel rooms, I savor the early morning where I'd hide under the soft cosy bed sheets to keep warm. Oh, as I recall, the morning run by the beach where I managed to race against the rising sun. The view's simply breathtaking.

Love self-enrichment through experience of cross-borders' cultures. Respect variable history, decipher the local's behavoir and beliefs. Not forgetting, to learn to understand and appreciate beautiful language of the foreign lands. Occasionally, believe it or not, I find myself becoming more appreciative of how fortunate I already am and ponder in validation to those I didn't. For example, my NZ trip opened my eyes to the fortune of living in a country without natural disasters like volcanoes. Australia taught me the fortune of having chili available FOC.

Love the food, I missed the appetite-whetting breakfast, rejuvenating spring waters and chocolates from Switzerland, the unique curry sauce for Mcdonald's McNuggets, all-time favourite fish and chips from Australia, the salivating dim sum, succulent wanton noodles from Hong Kong, the aromatic chicken-cutlet from Taiwan, the spicy dhar and Kingfisher in India, the tantalising bamboo rice and khao niao mamuang from Thailand, the cold-defending meals in New Zealand. Yes, I don't eat much but I miss them.

I used to collect drumsticks from every Hardrock cafe I happen to visit. Turns out, production seemed to have ceased.What a pity.

Yes, I'm not a travel fanatic. But I do love venturing overseas and bring memories that make me love returning!