Hello Slumberous World (that has left me behind)

So, at 3.26am on a tuesday morning I lie in bed testing my new blogging app because I was goondu enough to take a 3 hour nap on a monday evening. Typing a blog entry on a mobile phone feels strangely personal, as if I were typing a super long sms to a friend. Pardon me if I get too long-winded, or if the layout is wonky.

In happier news, this is The Bean in my sister's womb. This was taken last week, I think The Bean has grown to the size of a pea as I am typing this.

Although you can't see it, the Bean says hi and gives a smile. (:

Anyhow, in a past life, Van the Student has graduated. "Good riddance to school," she says. In her current life, Van the Bum has once more resurfaced. "Should I take a longer break, or should I start looking," she asks. In a future
life, Van the Workforce Member complains about her job. "Man, how I miss my school days," she laments. C'est la vie indeed.

Right, I am finally yawning. I think this entry is longer than what Van the Bum can take. The Bum is going to the Birdpark with Ahmoon in about 5 hours' time, so, wish us luck that the penguins are better rested than I am so that Ahmoon has something cute to look at when the time comes. :D

posted from Bloggeroid

Don't call me a Stalker

So I found my cousin's blog after much snooping on google, and I realised she's a much more down to earth person than she lets on during the occasional conversations we have.

The oldies have been comparing us to each other ever since we were toddlers, making us stand back to back to see who's taller, side by side to see who's "healthier" (amazing euphemism for "fatter"), until it got to a point where Chinese New Year was (and still is) closely associated with being judged by the relatives. Even though they don't do it as much now, I bet you in their hearts they're all thinking that my cousin's the smarter and awesomer one who's going to bring honour and glory to the family while I'm the stupider and fatter one who's gonna waste her life away as a bum, or something. ):

Anyway, all that comparing didn't stop me from running off downstairs to the playground with her each year to talk about our lives, and to gossip about the aunts and uncles, or to buy sparklers with our ang bao money from the mamak store. The most vivid memory of us sitting at the playground involved her telling me about her guitar club, her good friends in school which included guys and guys didn't happen in ther school until she went to JC, me in my sec 4 short-hair-large-tee-shirts-and-berms phase, stepping on some smelly cat poo, and above all, the longing to do this every single time we meet during the subsequent CNYs.

But it didn't happen again. I think somehow we just outgrew such feelings of spontaneous chummy behaviour. Somehow reading her blog brings back a little of those days, where she was open around me and we could talk about anything. The past few years she pretty much keeps mum.

I think I like reading blogs for that reason. You get to see another side of people that isn't always apparent when you interact with them in real life. You get to see how another person's life is lived, and knowing that you can't get to experience every single thing that this world can offer in your short lifetime, you can always rely on other people's experiences to get a sense of the possibilities you're missing out. You see the vast strata of lifestyles and experiences and it just makes you wonder. But more than anything, I like how blogs give different perspectives about people.

teeheehee

So I have very just finished viewing my dear cousin's photos on facebook, those taken with his girlfriend, in an album titled ":D" which, in my opinion, says very much about the state of their relationship and I think it's pretty awkward seeing him pose rather intimately with her. Well when I say intimately I don't mean they were eating each other's faces or something, they were really just hugging, and maybe it got slightly raunchier towards the end of the album where he was kissing/smelling her face. (HAHA what were you expecting huh?) I dunno man, there's just something quite uncomfortable seeing your cousins and their other halfs posing like that for photos. I mean, where's the guy who used to put bunny ears on your head in group pictures you know? And the guy who used to make funny faces at the camera? Where did he go too? Heehee.

IT'S SO WEIRD i still have that weird feeling in me, and it kinda makes me want to giggle awkwardly i don't know why. hahaaha somewhere else another cousin must be looking at my facebook photos thinking "This is SO WEIRD HEEHEE" *giggles*. HAHAH okay I just made myself feel weirder.

In another day and time, having dealt with secondary school kids I think they're quite a funny bunch, as in they really make me laugh and it's good. They call me "cher" and it makes me feel good too. HOHOHO. Well I wouldn't know because it was really pretty much a one off thing, and I don't know if after having to face them for 9 months in a year I would still think that they're "quite a funny bunch, as in they really make me laugh and it's good". Ah, I can still think about it then I guess.

So at work today there was a trainer who stopped his workout and hung around the counter for about 15 minutes, afterwhich he said "Okay i'm gonna go work out now, i just became smaller." Okay that's random.

You have a nice day too! (:

Maybe this is how the world works

So it's raining heavily outside and I'm cooped up in my room wondering why it always seems so much easier for people to be upset and get hung up over the things that people don't do rather than to appreciate and remember the things that they did. I think we are all guilty of this to some extent.

As I sit here mulling I am very tempted to conclude that this is how the world works, but that would seem almost too easy. (oooh loud thunder =/)

Mom's in a foul mood today. She was literally screaming at the top of her lungs because Papa didn't close the hall window and let the rain splash in. Apparently the "windows are wet, the chAIRS ARE WET, THE CABINET IS WET AND THE NEWSPAPER IS WEEEETAAAARGGGHHHH!!!!!!" I think she screamed till she almost choked on the "WEEEETAAAARGGGHHHH". =/ And she was asking why nobody went out to help her with the situation. Heck of course not, I was trembling in the closet even after having locked the bedroom door and seriously, would you go out there to get screamed at?

Honestly I think there might be something off with her, well i'm not sure, but she's really annoying nowadays like never before. When we're watching tv she always asks for the actors' names, and each time I want to tell her that it doesn't matter because she will forget it the next day anyway. She's been glued to the tv too, usually watching waaay past her bedtime. And she's also been pretty cranky these days. ugh. I wish my sister was here to share the brunt with me. Nah just kidding. It just feels like i've lost a partner in battle.

I Thank the Very First Person Who Decided to Blog.

I was reading all the past 9P entries and I thought it was funny how I wrote 2 years ago so I stole it off the 9P blog and put it on my own haha. I mean, how random is "eating orange peels for meals"?



So, since our last post in 2006, here I am once again in 2008, (we can pretend we all had time lapses, and the last two years we spent in outer space not knowing we've been eating orange peel for meals) trying to bring a little semblance of activity back into the blog. (: Kudos to me for effort. Oh man I am so thick-skinned sometimes. "Only sometimes," I insist.

SO! If you actually read this, write an entry to let me know that you still read this godforsaken (yes godforsaken, but sainotforsaken) blog. Hahaha I know dg occasionally drops by to tag. Check out the tag board man, she left a tag in 2007 proudly proclaiming that she'd tagged the first tag of 2008. I LAUGHED when I saw the tag can. Maybe dg secretly moves forward and backward in time. And that spawned a First Tag of the Year thread. How retarded can we get la.

Ha I emailed you guys invites to be authors in this blog. It was weird cause blogger asked me to sign in with a google account but there was difficulty creating a new account so I used my gmail account, don't mind okay? Check your email! (:

Hehheh I am supposed to be working on my editing files now and I am so far behind my work schedule but anyway a short update on today's prata outing!

jas, mel and I met for prata at the usual bukit timah prata shop for lunch. AND OH guess what, I saw a certain Girl Guide teacher surnamed Loh on the bus today and I got the creeps la. I was asking mel if I should do something to her, but I decided that I'm a nice person and nice people don't bear grudges so I very nicely alighted without giving her head a hard push. So anyway, we had prata, and they ate boring pratas. jas ate like cheese mushroom prata (not so boring prata) and mel had cheese prata and egg prata( boring pratas. don't tell mel i said that. i think she won't read this ho ho ho). I, on the other hand, had cheese prata and prata PISANG (like PISAI can. oh man i am so childish) which is banana prata and they had the cheek to discriminate my banana prata. I liked it, but they obviously didn't. hahaha. But what matters is I liked it.

And then we had difficulty deciding where to go after the meal. And we finally decided to go to Island Creamery like after an hour. So off to IC it was, and did I mention that the weather was sweltering hot? urgh. It was. And the walk from the bus stop to the place was pretty lengthy. But we cooled off in the aircon at the Creamery so it wasn't that bad. Oh we spotted Jil in a photograph on the wall in the ice cream place. Okay random. Mel and I leeched off their free water supply that by right jas was the only legitimate one who was entitled to drink from because she was the only one who bought ice cream. I wanted to but I was broke. ): But I just got my cheque banked in and soon I will be rich!

So anyway, jas finished her ice cream and we made our way to Queensway Shopping Centre. Haha. The bus ride there was super fun la. The bus 93 didn't have aircon, and when it arrived at the bus stop the two of them were like, "EHH!! Now still got bus no aircon one meh?! The bus fare got cheaper not?" Made me feel like I was the only one who wasn't a suaku. Waherm.
So anyway, jas bought pretty, bling Nike shoes at Queensway! Was a steal really, value for money, good buy. We left the place at about 6 pm and took 61 back to bukit timah. The bus ride home was priceless. We had intellectual discussions about unsightly sleeping positions of commuters and various other topics. (:

I had a good time today, as usual when I am out with the 9Ps. Oh and wt agrees that this blog should be revamped because we are all mature young adults now, and pink really is a frivolous youth's colour. And wt thinks that our minds are all in the gutter because we have names like 'sai' and 9'pee'. Ah well. We aren't frivolous youths, so we should have an image revamp. I know dg is dying to do up the blog, right dg? Haha. Okay that's it for now la huh. I've got editing to do. URGH. Someone put me out of my misery. ):

Not that I'm exactly miserable. (:

Love, sai.



I laughed at fellow-minnah-skippy's entries too, and melmel's "very first (and pretty much only) entry!" mostly because they brought back extremely fond memories, some of which I had cleanly forgotten. (It made me realise that we were ALWAYS into Amazing Race, even when we were younger haha!) It's all very nice, I like the way we were, and i like the way we are. Even though I think we can still spend more time together. Nowadays when we meet it's all about art and craft HAHA. But it's undeniably fun. Even though we aren't as rowdy and crazy as we used to be, oh scratch that, i got reminded that we can still get very rowdy at times haha.

I have come to realise how fragile human relationships, especially friendships, can be. I admit that I don't put in that much efforts in friendships that I have made in the past few years because somewhere along the way, priorities have shifted. I am still looking to set that right, and in general to set my life right because these people matter to me. They do, I just don't show it as readily as I used to.

When I was in secondary school I was all about friends, like if there were silly memes that had questions like "who is more important, friends or family?" I would answer friends without hesitation. But at the age of 21, this has changed, and I am all about family now. Maybe it's because somewhere in my head something clicked when I saw that my dad now has saggy skin and white hairs on his head which I had never noticed before, and that everytime my mom gets up from the floor she has to support herself on the ottoman because of the pain in both her knees. When I look at my dad I subconsciously compare him to the image I have of him in his younger days, where he had thick black hair, lean muscles and a flat belly. When I look at my mom I compare her to when she had clear rosy skin and could walk for long periods of time.

I wonder where my younger parents have gone, and I wish they would come back. But every day that dawns I am faced with the effects of irreversible time, and I am reminded every day that age is fast catching up with my parents. I am scared stiff by the prospect of watching them age and eventually pass away, and when I think of this there is that heaviest weight on my heart that makes it sink to a new depth every day that passes. I don't think I can continue anymore so I shall stop.

Sometimes my mind randomly brings me back to the moment my uncle passed away and it all still feels like it only happened yesterday.

Today.

Dear world, today you taught me one lesson with two examples.


11pm at night, 9p was at the airport to see Datou off. We took lots of photos, and my favourites were the polaroid ones. Happy Friend went into the waiting lounge at 12am, and as she turned back she flashed us a most brilliant smile. She looked so much like a little kid venturing into a huge playground with unsure steps, and as we looked at her find her way to her gate, all I could think of was "dt, please be safe."I admit I was worried, still a little now, that the silly big head will be stumbling along, and that she would be a little lost in a foreign land. But I know she is resilient, like how canoe polo has trained her to be, and that she will learn along the way. The only thing that I would ask for from anybody out there and up there who can hear me, is that my Happy Friend gets all the help she needs from anybody who can help her over where she is.

She may have looked a little lost, but as she eventually walked in the right direction I knew that this was how it was meant to be. It may throw you off your feet a little in the beginning, but once you get the hang of it it'll be fine, and I know that datou will be just fine. 6 months in Sweden should be a whole lot of fun.

11am in the morning, dajie officially moved out. It's been ongoing for some time, and I knew all along that she eventually was going to move, but I just didn't expect it to be so sudden and abrupt. Her room is now a vacant space in the house and when I step in it's so empty that I can almost hear my thoughts echo off the walls. I dislike the echoes that ring in the empty room. It amplifies every single tiny sound, even the sound of quiet loneliness. From now on it's just mom, dad and me. I won't have my sis randomly popping her head into my room asking to borrow my mp3 charger anymore. Or pestering me to transfer new songs into her mp3 player. Or just watching dvds together in their room anymore.

Bukit Gombak isn't so far away, but it definitely isn't near at all considering she's been living with me for 21 years of my life. It definitely doesn't feel right when I have to sms her "see you on thursday" for the first time ever when it always used to be "see you later at home!" It's absolutely heartwrenching. But then again that's how it is right. Now that she has her own life to live, I wish her all the best, and that she'd come home often for dinners! And I'm looking forward to stay overs and dinners at her place too.

I used to imagine how my mom and her sisters were before they each got their own houses, and how they must have felt having to move apart from one another. I haven't fully accepted that she has moved out for good, but I guess I will learn to cope. I imagine my parents must feel sadder than I feel. It's like having to finally come to terms with their daughter being all grown up.



Today, the first day in school, a lecturer asked a question: "When does a child officially become an adult?"
I think I've got the answer. It's today.
It's today that I become an adult.

Hello Post Exams World!

Reading mel's blog inspired me to update mine. I think it's amazing that she's started a blog, and I really like reading her entries. (:
Jas' blog is so depressing, she's always talking about disappearing that I'm quite afraid that she might be entertaining some darn morbid thoughts. But I've got faith in her that she will tide through this, because like rachie says, bad things always pass, and I agree. Hang in there skippylee!
Datou's blog is pretty much about random things that I sometimes don't get. But recently she's been talking about her preparations for the exchange trip. Exchange sucks, it takes people away. =/ For 6 months at that.
Carinnie's blog is like mine, the entries hardly come, and the blog can't update itself, so in her words, "I think my blog is gathering mould."

Well I've been wanting to update for ages, but somehow exams, work, love and friends managed to get in the way. I still want to write about the fantabulous birthday that 9P did for me! Because I don't ever want to forget the euphoria of that day. I keep thinking, okay I shall do a post about my birthday, but I never do get to it because... well, see above. I also want to write about how the exams went, and how terrible it is when ray falls sick, and how i missed my mom when she went to vietnam, and how guilty I felt leaving my dad at home to eat dinner by himself when I went out everyday for one week after the exams, and oh, how I found this exact same La Dame aux Camelias quote in one of my previous blog entries on a schoolmate's blog. (What are the chances! The exact same passage with the exact same way of citing the author! Technically it isn't plagiarism because there was the book title and author's name, but it was weird seeing that, like someone just ripped your entire entry off your blog.) But well, you know, life got in the way I guess.

Right now I'm supposed to be doing editing. I've got like, 210 Word pages due on the 22nd, and then another 70 due on the 24th. And it's christmas week next week, I don't think it's even human for people to be doing work during christmas week! ): Why can't we have week long (or is it month long?) holidays like they do in China? And I've done christmas shopping for my family and I am so happy hohoho! I just know that they're gonna like their presents. Actually that's what I thought last year too, but it turned out that they didn't really like their presents. Nonetheless, it's a new year and a brand new christmas, so hurrah! They'll love their presents this year! But I haven't bought any for 9p and ray yet, and CHRISTMAS IS IN, WHAT, SIX DAYS?!! AND OF ALL TIMES I'VE GOT EDITING NOW?!?! AND WHAT ABOUT CHRISTMAS CARDS?! AAAAAAAH!

One thing though, I can't have xmas eve dinner with 9P because my folks are having it on christmas eve despite my relentless objections. ): And 9P always has dinner on christmas eve! Man. How do I resolve this. ): Gah.

Ray is sick with a throat infection poor boy. And I've got to go to my sister's house tomorrow at 9.30 am because she's expecting her furniture to arrive, and she doesn't have anybody else to accompany her so I'm gonna be nice and do it. After all her birthday's in 6 days' time. (: The dog is whining outside my room door I'm gonna let it sleep on my bed tonight because it's gonna be Christmas soon.











Nah the dog is imaginary. But the rest is real!

I Scored One.

Recently I've been pretty emotional. But yesterday while I was doing laundry and listening to music at the same time, I suddenly got reminded of us, and how unexpectedly that we end up together after some years, that ray was just a boy that I saw at a random campfire, and that the goodness that I have found in him is something that I know I will never take for granted. And I realised that I'm an extremely lucky girl.
I had the renewed vision of what it is like being a part of a family unit. I had newfound appreciation for every thing that my parents have done for me, and I am extremely grateful for them. I have had thought nasty thoughts about them in the past, and I have had shut them out before. I finally understood that no one is perfect, and that what my dad and mom have done for the family is way beyond their flaws, and that I am most willing to overlook those tiny imperfections. And now that they are getting on in age, I want to be able to provide for them, and let them rely on me like I have relied on them my entire life up till now.
I also came to terms with my sister being married. I accepted that we could not be as close to each other as in the past, because she now has someone who will occupy a large part of her life, and she does not have as much time for me. And on my part I acknowleged that I have also left out much less time to spend with her because now I have got ray. And on weekends he and i go out and do stuff, and on weekdays when she comes home she's almost always in the room with joe. But I know that she will always be there for me when I need her, and that she will always be the dajie that I can turn to, whom I can borrow stuff from, and whom I have always loved as before.
I suddenly missed how 9p was in secondary school, when we more or less had lives that involved each other. I saw that this is what growing up and being apart does to people. It puts some distance between people, and with age people change, and that adds a little more distance until I see the same girls who stand before me, the ones I felt like I have known all my life, having become young ladies with plans for the future, with aspirations, with careers in the making, with different passions, with different characters and opinions. And I wonder how much more we will grow, and fervently hope to an invisible force to make us grow up slower, not too fast that we let details fly by, but also not too slow that we yearn to grow up quicker. I fervently hope too, that these girls retain all the innocence of their childhood and school days which will allow them appreciation for the littlest bit of beauty and wonder in the world that they may find, be it lush green leaves rustling in the wind, or the smell of crisp earthy morning air, and not get taken by the so-called-grownups-who-can't-wait-to-grow-up and adults' "oh-i'm-so-jaded-nothing-can-impress-me-now" attitude. I fervently hope that they can find happiness in the smallest things, and that they can only want nothing else.

Rantings of a Retard

Today I was being absolutely moronic by wailing and wailing while we were stepping into the house, utterly disgracing my parents because there were neighbours coming downstairs.

"Oi, siao ah."
*Whines* "But you whacked my butt just now, and I helped to scrub the hall floor today!"

And I ran into my room in a mock hissy fit and started giggling because I had effectively embarrassed my parents in front of the neighbours. They must regret not giving me away when I was 2.

I am such an irritating kid, it's a wonder my parents still love me. So, I am going to stay up during Chinese New Year's eve so that they will have a potentially long life. I don't see how it works, but it's worth a shot anyway. And it will give me a legitimate reason for staying up late (and my mom shall not come out and say, VANESSA GO AND SLEEP LA SO LATE ALREADY STILL DON'T WANT TO SLEEP!!). It will make my parents happy too.

I have resolved to make resolutions for the Chinese New Year (talk about cheesy resolutions. It's an easy-to-achieve goal, and it will be attained by CNY yaaay!). Well it gives me some time to settle into 2009 and properly think about what I want to achieve this year.

(I HAVE HEEDED THE GOD OF BLOGS!)

A Fool Spent from Defiance

And then it all voices down to being too idealistic, thinking that real life is like a TV drama.

So the adults were right.

The atmosphere in the ward during my uncle's last moments was terribly stifling - or no, it was intensely sad. I've come to understand that it is at the point of finality that is the breaking point for most people, the knowledge that the heartrate monitors have gone flat for good, and that the weak revivals of heartbeat are lost to the straight line on the screen. The funny thing is that the lines aren't completely straight, they're slightly, only very slightly, jagged. Or it might be some illusory trick that your eyes play when you stare too long at the screen. All I remember from that night is that we each have got our different ways of grieving, but mostly it has to do with tears.

The few nights this week I've spent going down to a certain multi-purpose hall in the Jurong West area. At the wake we get to see all kinds of people. People you never knew were related to you.

"Carolyn, Vanessa, come over here, this is my cousin and her husband, call her so-and-so and him so-and-so."

"Orh." Repeats after mom in a mumbly voice. I've never seen these people in my life.

"Ah, hi, hi. Waaah, both your daughters look like you ah." Some acute observation skills there.

And what can we do but smile condescendingly at the tableful of old people.

One cousin said "The best places to find a partner, are at weddings and wakes."

At the wake you get to shake hands with all kinds of people. Is it possible to tell the maturity of a person from the way he shakes hands with others? There were gangly teenagers who were awkward in handshaking, those who put only their fingers into the grasp, and try to take their hand away too soon. And then there were adults who used both hands to shake, fully engulfing your hand in theirs. Being the anti-social person I am of course I was hidden behind Bessie and Phillip with Joe, who also had a bout of anti-social last night. I was looking straight into the handshakers' eyes to see if I could find out anything. I gathered that about 64.7% of them probably have never seen the man lying in the coffin throughout their entire lives before.

But you definitely have to appreciate that they took time off to come to the wake, to spread a little love to the man's relatives. And you have to admit that a wake with a large crowd definitely gives off a better vibe as compared to one that only has a few people sitting around right right?

My aunt had the warped idea of taking photographs of the wake for remembrance, and the honour of the task fell on me. It felt strange. It was like someone was pulling a weird joke. What kind of memory does that make? Definitely not a happy one.

Later will be the last time I get to see my uncle in flesh. The cremation's taking place tomorrow, but there's a damned exam in the way. How funny that most organisations and institutions only allow compassionate leave for close family members. Who's to judge if family members are close or distant? What's the measure of relationships?

All bad things like happening at once don't they.

What do you say when you're faced with a man who has leukemia?



When leukemia, or any other sort of sicknesses, rear its ugly head in your face, you must not flinch. The real ugliness in sickness is not the sickness itself. It is the state that the patient is reduced to in the battle against it. You have to be there to fully understand the gravity of it, and to witness the extreme unpleasantness of it. The stories you hear on TV, they may make you cry out of sympathy, but when it comes down to the reality of it, you find that you don't cry much at all.

In fact, you don't know what to think of it. One part of you tells you "Look here now, his condition is deteriorating by the day, and they're all preparing to let him go, there's really nothing you can do now," and another part is saying "Well, maybe it's not that bad, you look at him, and you know that he wants to carry on living, and maybe, just maybe, that will keep him alive." And when you do cry, it's not out of sympathy, it's out of the prospect of loss.

There are times where you will feel angry too, and frustrated, and many times you will feel extremely helpless. Extremely. You feel angry and frustrated because all the adults are getting pastors to carry out baptism ceremonies, standing around discussing which undertaker's services should be engaged, which church the funeral should be held at, when the only thing you know for certain is that the man doesn't look dead to you. Dead people don't breathe. Dead people's pulses don't register on monitors. Dead people don't lie there fighting for life. And then you feel extremely helpless because you don't know how to make the man feel better, and you probably can't anyway. But it doesn't stop you from feeling helpless.

It's never as simple as sympathy.

When wave after wave of complications hit - fever, fungal infection of the lungs, blood infection, kidney failure, cardiac arrest, as if having leukemia was the green light for all other illnesses - all you can do is to stand there and watch him try so hard to breathe. You try to guess his thoughts, what he's thinking of when he's lying in bed, but it's probably too complicated, and a young girl like you probably won't understand. Is he in extreme pain? Does he miss his wife? Has he lived life the way he wanted? But mostly it's the pain question. Is he in a lot of pain?

You stand there listening to your mom stroke his forehead and repeat "don't worry okay? Have a good rest, just follow the light," and she asks you to speak to him. While all the time you're slightly angry, thinking, why do you ask him to rest when he doesn't want to, can't you see he's trying hard to fight for his life? But then of course you're never really sure if he still has the will to live, because whatever willpower he has might possibly be negated by pain.

There are all these thoughts running through your head, and your mouth is very dry. What's there left to say when they're all convinced he's not going to make it? When the only moment of brief consciousness is when the man opens his swollen eyes for 4 seconds and tears. When all you can see is the tube leading into his left nostril, and more tubes leading into his mouth, and you wonder where they end in the body. When you get gripped by paranoia when the damned heart rate monitor gives a long loud beep, and your mom, your dad and you immediately jerk your heads to look at it.
What's there left to say at this point?

When the hospital bills by far total up to at least 45 thousand dollars, and you see your aunties and cousin keeping vigil outside the ward almost each day, how does anyone know what to do? Who has the right to make decisions for the patient then?



What do you say when you're faced with a man who has leukemia?
What's there left to say?

Abundant Growth of Lalang

There's nothing quite like watching aeroplanes take off on the runway about 500 metres away. It's an inexplicable rush of adrenaline that makes you want to whoop for joy, scream against the loud roar of the engines, and to become a pilot.

There's also nothing quite like watching aeroplanes drop really low, flying in for landing, especially when they fly over a body of water with the beam from their headlights reflecting off the surface. It's inexplicably overwhelming, and it makes you want to grin widely like a silly fool and throw your hands up in the air, scream against the loud roar of the engines, and to sit there forever, counting the planes that come in.

There's also nothing like the fleeting quality of the moment, like as if the beauty of plane watching lay in its repetitive transience.

We talked, we sang and we laughed on our tour de east.

Hi Paps!

Three sharp raps on my bedroom door sucked me back into the shitty dump that is reality.

"Come in."

The door opens and behold, MightyMe storms in.

"What are you doing online when you should be STUDYING?!" she booms.

"But tonight is rest night..."

"Why you insolent brat, don't you take that tone with me!"

"Urm, what tone? That's how I normally speak," I whimper. I always seem to be whimpering around her. "And I can't start studying when I've got one more assignment due."

"Then? My problem ah? Get it DONE LA!"
I didn't know MightyMe spoke Singlish.

"Oh okay, I will when I've thought of a direction for the essay."

She glared at me and I mysteriously shrank.

"That will take you eons, don't think I don't know you!"

With that she closed my IE window, and opened a blank Word document.

"DO!" She booms.

I experience a bad case of deja vu.

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Papa is amazingly brilliant at solving the Rubik's cube. I mean, not that he managed to get all six sides, but he did simultaneously get four sides almost done, which I think is not bad, not bad at all, really. He is secretly brilliant like that, and I never knew this before he attempted the cube. I've got new found respect for him, and currently he's probably the coolest dad around. (Unless you compare him to Will Smith's character in the Pursuit of Happyness, but then I don't know Will Smith personally, so Philip is the next best.)

Oh and he once told me before that he named himself after the character Pip from Dickens' Great Expectations, whose real name is Philip Pirrip. The more I think about it, the more wonderful my dad is turning out to be.

I remember Philip did an art assignment for me when I was in Primary School. I was supposed to sketch a gourd, and he did such a lovely job that the piece got selected for the year-end art exhibition in school. Of course he never gained the recognition he deserved for that piece of art. I was full of admiration for him then. Only recently did the memory of this incident resurface, and once again like history repeating itself, I am filled with admiration for him.

This is Papa in new light, like I have never known him before.

Oh, turd.

Yesterday I went on a walk with Bessie and we talked.

"I want to be happy everyday."

"You know that's not possible right, if you're happy everyday, it wouldn't be happiness, it'd be reduced to normalcy."

"Come again? I didn't absorb that."

"You see, if you were happy everyday, you wouldn't think of it as being happy, it'd just be an average feeling, because in order for one to feel happiness, one has got to not feel happiness in the time prior to the onslaught of happiness. It has to be a cycle you see. That's how things work."

"Well, ol-- no I mean, middle-aged people see things very differently."

"Hahaha."

When people ask me if I like what I'm doing in school, I am sometimes momentarily at loss for words. Because it's not that simple an answer like yes or no. I always find myself having to weigh out the pros and cons each time before giving an answer. Most of the time I know that I like it, but again I don't want to give any false impressions that I like everything about it. Things are always changing, and in a sense I don't like that. Why I might be saying that I don't like change now, and in another 10 minutes I might say that change is the best thing that can ever happen. How drastic, this concept of inconsistency.

Nowadays it's increasingly difficult to find someone to confide in. I know my friends are there, but to what extent are they there when they've got a whole lot of other stuff to worry about? It's becoming more and more apparent that school, work, significant other halves, projects, CCAs, physical distance do drive some mightily big wedges between us. It's like there's always something more important. Something. And it really isn't that appropriate lamenting to you about me when you've always got that something which is really much more significant. I dunno.

One thing that's obvious though, is that when you don't ask, people don't tell. More and more I am relying on extremely superficial indicators like MSN nicknames and blog entries to keep me updated on people and the state they're in now. And even then those aren't accurate indicators.

And you really don't want to start thinking about those who are absolutely inactive online, because that's too much to cope with. It doesn't help that people are too busy to meet up, or to even talk on the phone. And then you've got to worry about those who are just terrible telephone conversation partners, like me. It really doesn't help that in meeting up I've got to be very, very comfortable with you before I really start talking, like, talking you know. Sometimes you just find that you don't know what to say, and sometimes there's just so much to say but you don't know if it's too much, and all that comes out is a morose sounding "yea. haha," and then you feel utterly stupid, to the extent of wanting to kick yourself.

And there are topics of conversation to worry about. Why are things made tedious that way?

I want a strawberry sundae right now, but because I am about to declare hermitship for about 3 weeks, I think I'll save it for 3 weeks later.

Okay. Hermitship, now.

In (Lesser) Memoriam

The first time I came into contact with a lifeless human body was when my Grandma died. I was fifteen then, and that was an age where you're too young to even start and try to comprehend the workings of the world, but too old to reach out for your parents. Two things at age nineteen I'm pretty sure of though, is that you're never going to be able to even start comprehending the workings of the world, and that you'll never be too old to reach out to your parents.

When I walked into the front door I saw that everyone was separated by space - at least in my memory they were, and I don't know how much this memory has altered. You know how sometimes you're so absolutely certain that some things you'll remember for life, (how can you ever forget, how?) and then in a while you don't know what to think because everybody tells you that memories are capable of change? But you were so sure... or maybe not.

The elders were standing around the dining table, each clearly buffered by a pocket of space from the other. I have got no impression of the cousins though. I only remember one or two of them sitting on the steps to the second storey. I don't even remember Carolyn being present. Maybe she wasn't, maybe she was. Should I ask her or will that be awkward. Why should it be awkward now that 4 going on 5 years have passed right? Not that it matters now, because these dregs of minute details will eventually dilute in time to come.

Phillip and Bessie went into the room, and I followed, because that seemed to be the right thing to do. Can the dead hear then, because I was speaking to Grandma with a voice in my mind. She used to speak Cantonese, and I used to call her Po po. I've got a photograph of her feeding me rice off the table with a pair of chopsticks, and I've got one of me watching her watch me play with Mickey Mouse. I don't have any photographs after the age of ten taken individually with her. I didn't even know how old she was exactly.

I held her hand, and it was cold.
I got scared.
She was lying on the bed, looking like she was sleeping. But the difference was that she wasn't breathing, and that made all the difference in the world. I was afraid of the Po po I saw lying on the bed that night.
She wasn't the Po po I knew. Not anymore.

I cannot remember if Bessie cried. I left the room when the coldness from her hand passed on into mine. I joined my cousin on the steps, sombre, not knowing if it was appropriate to even smile. We talked about school. I think the ambulance arrived at this point.
They put a white cloth over Grandma.

It was not nice. All of it. All of it was not nice.

They embalmed the body for the funeral. I remember thinking that Po po's face now looked like plastic. We all had to wear black and white, and we stayed up through the night, almost every night.
I got scared when I looked into the coffin, because I was afraid that Po po would open her eyes. After all, I was fifteen then, and that was an age where you're too young to even start and try to comprehend the workings of the world, but too old to reach out for your parents.

We had to kneel a lot in the prayers the temple people chanted. There were many people I didn't recognise who came. There were a lot of joss sticks to light. I had to exchange schoolbags with Jiawen because mine was in bright red, while hers was in grey and blue, and I had to go to the funeral after school, and at funerals you're not supposed to have anything brightly coloured on you.

The most terrible part was the incineration.
They put Po po into the fire.
All that came out was ash, and chunks of bones that the fire couldn't and wouldn't consume, like it knew we needed physical proof that she was gone, and at the same time needed something to linger.

On the way back in the bus we were all quiet, drinking our packet drinks, like it was taboo to speak.

At the age of nineteen my grandma comes to mind occasionally.
And on a night like this, I wonder.

I've Got the Dreamer's Disease.

I lost track of the number of times I pressed down on the shutter only to miss the lightning.This is when I finally succeed.

You know how sometimes when you say something unkind to someone, and you see that the person actually recoils with with hurt, and all at once you know that you've just said the wrong thing. The recoiling part makes me very uncomfortable, it's as if your words take on a physical form. I didn't think they were being literal when they said "your words dealt him a blow."
I try not to say things which hurt. Unless I'm so close to you that I'm all comfortable when I'm with you, let down my guard, and say things which I don't process beforehand. For which I am sorry, because I definitely wouldn't deliberately hurt anyone I'm close to.

School's starting in a few days, and for some reason I'm feeling nervous about it. I think it's the thought of having to make new friends in tutorial classes all over again. (Now that makes me sound superficial. But I'm pretty comfortable with the friends I made last semester. I hope we can attend lectures and have lunches together.) On second thoughts, I'm sure the nerves come from the thought of the impending workload that is coming my way. (Sounds less superficial now, doesn't it?)

I suspect Yanni's trying to turn me into an Ah Lian because she got me all these blings as my Birthday and Christmas presents. I actually already own the exact same music note pendant, but I stopped wearing it after like about 7 times. But of course I still like it.When she gave it to me it was a pleasant surprise because I saw it as a sign of how well she knew my taste.

I guess some things don't have to be said out loud.

I think my sister predicted my New Year's resolution, thus the watch. Don't you just love siblings who can read your mind? I love it because it's super pretty, and it has bling! And most importantly it somehow serves as a reminder of responsibility. It's some weird waves that I pick up from the watch.
I love my sister and brother-in-law.

That yellow happy thing is actually a tissue box from Melmel. I can't bear to use the tissues from it to blow my nose or to wipe icky things off the table. It's too cute for that. I shall use those tissues to wipe only perfume off my hands in the event that it gets on them in the first place, thus giving me scented tissue which I will put in my bag, which will then make my bag smell good.
The angel is also from Melmel, and it's about the sweetest thing that I ever received. It caused me to tear because it was really touching.
The words read:

"Travelling Angel

Whenever you travel,
be it near of far.
This angel
will guard you
wherever you are."

To me, it's beautiful, like everything else Melmel is.

This is very lovely and meaningful because Jas did it all by herself from scratch! Right from the title, to the groovy layout of the pictures, down to the individual captions. And it charts our growth, and our friendship. I shall proudly display it in the file that I bring to school.
"A picture speaks a thousand words."
These pictures do so much more. They capture memories, and narrate 7 years of invaluable friendship.

Thank you jas, you mean so much to me.

What better way to start the New Year then to do thanksgiving. Of course there's more, but Bessie's calling me to dinner, and my stomach is willing me to go. So go I will, to consume my dinner. It's YongTauFoo Bessie Cooked that I like so much. (:

Oh yes, my bedsheet is lime green.