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31 July 2005
28 July 2005
As the days pass, the countdown to my birthday slowly begings. The big 21, the first step into adulthood and the real world. Friends who have already pass the two-one all say the same thing, "Its all downhill from there. Your life just zooms pass you from then on, and there's no turning back." I don't know if that's a good thing or not, but I'm trying to make my interpretation a good one & hopefully remain positive about the whole thing. But is there really that big of a deal on turning 21?
Okay, so you are legally considered an adult, and in the States it means being legal to alcohol consumption. But I'm not American. I did the whole "Clubbing, Smoking (ok maybe not smoking) and Driving" scene 3 years ago. Other than being able to legally sign documents without your parents' consent, and being seen as an "adult" in the public eye, is there really much of a difference when you cross the line from being 20 to 21?
I simply feel that its been a long time coming, and the life's journey is taking on a different route, more scenic perhaps, on top of that - added with a whole lotta junk too. Exciting - maybe. Over the years I've gained more knowledge and strength as compared to when I was a teeny bopper, but I don't feel any different now than before. Are you supposed to feel some sort of a tingle the moment the clock strikes 12? I'll probably have to get myself ready at 11.57 to give myself a 3 minute headstart/preparation. Eh?
Everyone's been asking me what I'd want for my birthday. Apparently turning 21 entitles you to being able to request for more expensive gifts. Either that, or the numbers 2 and 1 put together in that sequence seems to entice people into being comfortable with letting go with a bit more money than normal occasions. Would it be too much for me to request for a Lambourghini?
Somehow I think turning 21 is just slightly overrated and thrown out of proportion. I don't want expensive gifts, I don't want lavish materialistic items. I don't want anything other than the presence of all my dear friends and family, all rounded up together for a good meal that satisfies everyones stomachs and tastebuds. Unfortunately for me, I know that it is one gift I'd request for that I couldn't receive.
To my other friends also turning 21 later in the year, I apologize for not being able to be there to celebrate your special occasion with you. You're all in my heart no matter how far apart we are & that's what matters. I miss you all so dearly.
27 July 2005
I've been blogging for quite a bit now, and over the months more and more people pop into my blog to read what goes on in my mundane life, or view whatever opinion I may have on things that may have very little significance. On average I would say that I have 5-10 people coming in daily to check my blog out. Of course, I only know of 3-4 of those who do come in. I'm not sure where they come from, but the other 6 or 7 might have gotten the address from Friendster or off someone else's blog.
"You" who is reading my blog, may very well be my friend, a friend's friend, a stranger, or even someone who detests the sight of me but still has enough bitchy curiousity to want to find out what's in my mind. I find the latter very amusing.
Its funny how someone may dislike me to the point of saying "Oh! I can't stand the sight of her!" and yet want to know what's going on in my life. Okay, so I get that its just so they can get "insider news" to bitch and gossip about me, but still. Have you ever heard of getting a life? Hah! Listen to me, going on as if I'm that popular - in that sense of course. Did I ever mention I can be slightly delusional?
So, who's to say what one can write and cannot write on their personal blog? As private as it may seem, on the contrary, it is also very much public. I say, screw those people who read your blog and judge you, cuz your blog is for you to write what you want, when you want. Who gives a shit what other people say? Only true friends are entitled to opinions about you, and only theirs matter, not anyone elses.
To those who are afraid of judgement, or blog just to be "popular", I'd say the blogging scene isn't for you. And those who read blogs so they can snitch - get a life.
What's your take on this, fellow bloggers? (okay, non-bloggers too)
25 July 2005
I've been settled here in Perth for slightly more than a month now, & everyday for that past month I've spent more time with them than I probably have in the first half of the year. Its quite freaky considering that when I was in Singapore, I could probably see them for 5 mins or less, most days in the week. Some may think I'm weird, or not family-oriented enough, or just plain unfillial, but a month is just too much for me.
On top of that, we went for a month long holiday in Europe before we came, sharing rooms during the entire period. Parents overload I tell you! It's really starting to kick in that I don't quite have a life down here, friends are almost non-existent. Its quite sad really.
But anyway, my point is after seeing that much of my parents, I have noticed a few more quirks about them (my god, as if there wasn't enough) that won't seem to go away! For one, my dad has a habit of never answering a question with a straight answer, yet expects me to understand.
Me: Dad, where did you put the batteries?
Dad: In the where la.
Me: Huh? Where?
Dad: The there la. You know.. there la.
Me: What there?!
Dad: Alamak, use your brain la! There la!
Of course, I'm supposed to know where "there" is when he's pointing to a spot of dirt on the floor. This also applies to places we want to go to for meals, like you know, "the where", and people we meet, like "the who". It's so fun we should all play this game, you know, that game.
I pray to god I don't become like this when I turn 56.
I was feeling bored on this lonely Sunday night, trying to find productive things to do to pass the time away. What better than to be the kaypoh Singaporean that I am, and read the posts of other bloggers to keep myself entertained? So I typed in the address of one of the most controversial blogs I knew, www.sarongpartygirl.blogspot.com, to keep myself updated on the life of a girl who is totally unprohibited about talking about her sex life and her encounters with (almost only) ang mohs.
Click here, click there, wound up at another one of Singapore's most controversial writers I know of, my all time fav, Mr Brown. Laughed my ass off reading his articles and wound up clicking on a few other blogs he put up.
After much reading, I realized how much these people type in ways such that perhaps only us Singaporeans would understand. Yes, the infamous language of Singlish. Their articles were completely hilarious & perfectly described, I was surprised how humourous i found it despite the awful hokkien vulgarities. It dawned upon me as to how many of us try our very best to type and write in perfect English, never giving a hint of the Singaporean in us. Even in the way we speak, many are guilty (myself included) of trying to sound a little more American, or like the pompous arses of a British, you name it, we've tried it.
But seriously, internationally, many can imitate various accents from different countries, but tell me, how many ang mos do you know that can actually speak Singlish so fluently? Even their la's are off key. Try asking one to put a la, lor, hor and lei in one sentence and they will fail miserably. Us Singaporeans? Do it as easliy as it is to pee. To that I would say, "Power la!" And in how many languages can you actually change the meaning of saying something by just putting one word at the back of it? Power la, power hor, power lei, power sia. They all mean different, but somehow we all understand it perfectly. Singlish is an accent and a language that only we (and maybe M'sians) can truly comprehend. Yes, it is an accent.
Where else in the world would a person know how to structure a sentence that contains at least 4 different languages in one and still be understood? Come on man, our engrish is damn powderful okay! Especially when words like "nevermind" become "ngiaomine", and taxi drivers always like to talk to us about the garment. Understand? If you dunch know then stop reading.
Singlish may seem degrading to the engrish language, but its actually a skill quite hard to attain.
Maybe the garment should consider putting this in the school syllabus, along with lessons on how to be more kiasu, and make Singaporean kids even more typically Singaporean.
22 July 2005
Another one of those days that pass by in a haze, where you're aware of the actions you take during the day, yet it you can't feel it. You walk about like your feet are off the ground, but they feel heavy all the same and your head is light yet heavy. The room spins each time you turn your head, and it takes 10 seconds for everything to get into focus. Even then your vision tends to double.
Your stomach churns & your appetite - practically non-existent. Nothing's good on the tube, tries at finding something productive to do go uneventful. Chocolate - indulge and binge. The only food that soothes and satisfies. Each mouthful is heaven till you come to the last bite, you worry the end will bring you straight to hell.
Seconds slowly tick away and turn into hours. Open your eyes and the sun is gone. Was it even there in the first place? Make your way to bed and glance at the clock - its only 6 in the evening. Where has time gone and where is it leading me to?
It isn't the doing of drugs, it isn't the doing of alcohol, its just one of those days.
21 July 2005
move on toward the end of the light
its a wild ghost chase.
turn around, see the haunting shadows,
run forward in haste.
endless hunt for the rainbow's end,
the myth of leprochauns & gold.
follow the mystical path that leads you there,
the wait for the future to unfold.
stand up, look out beyond the distant skies,
there is heaven beyond.
reach out, seek hard within your heart,
stumble and fall, come crumbling back down.
yearn to touch but a fading image,
a mirage is all it is.
gasp for air amidst the pain,
life as such will never cease.
There comes a time where you suddenly realize it's all been nothing but a big mistake, and you've been going about doing everything all wrong. Harsh reality seeps in slowly but surely as time passes & pounces on you when you least expect it. The struggle - near fatal, leaves you gasping for air your lungs won't inhale. For a moment, your mind is in a daze, your vision covered with smog & your memory fails you. Questions rummage through your mind, "Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?" The answers start to fall in like soldiers called to attention, and all at once you wish you never woke up & stepped into a nightmare; the real one.
A single droplet of sweat trickles down the furrow of your forehead. Your arm feels as heavy as steel as you forlornly try to wipe the sweat away. You can but sit in the worn-out spot helplessly, the eyes of the walls practically digging into your very flesh. Screams and shouts go unheard as the echoes bounce of the walls.
There are no answers, there is no help. The only path to take is the very one lying in front of you. So you heave a big sigh and continue down the path of wrongness as you drag your heavy feet one in front of the other. The path is long and winding, there is no light at the end. Alone, despondent, sane.
20 July 2005
Fill in the blanks I've got aches and pains in parts of my body I never knew existed. Went for a floorball training yesterday, thought I might just get active again and find a productive way of killing the nights. Till now I'm still figuring out if it was a smart move or not. I sure as hell know it almost killed me. I haven't played the sport in at least 2 years, was glad to know I still got it. But the Aussies sure are tough, they train and play at such a fast pace I almost couldn't keep up. Needless to say I was the only one panting away.
And they say ang mos are very friendly, its all hogwash. I shall defer from bitching, but I can tell you now its all untrue.
Still, it was all good fun. Despite the aches, I quite enjoyed it and look very much forward to the next training. I'm getting too flabby.
18 July 2005
This is Chantrea (shawn-trey-er) Rose Marston, the newest member of my family, and the sweetest lil bundle of joy we've ever come upon. Born on the 15th of July, weighing 8 pounds 3 ounces. 4D anyone?
She's been quite an angel, and a fit one at it. Turning, moving and kicking a whole lot for a new born. Its fascinating just watching her sleep. She took a little peep out into the world yesterday, looked at me with wondering eyes.
British, Scottish, Thai, Chinese & Australian all in one. She's gonna grow into such a sweetheart. Everyone's in love with her, grandpas and grandmas cooing at her, fussing about. She's gonna be soooo pampered. By Auntie Cherie and Uncle Scott too. -grinz-
