"...of helping you out when you think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face..."
Alanis Morissette is one of my fave singers during my uni days. I remember when her first album came out I was already in the UK. Bought her first CD at Woolie's along Edgware Road. I memorized all her songs, analysed all the lyrics and came to a conclusion that she's somekind of a musical genius. Her lyrics were honest and without pretense. And when she was waxing lyrical about her love for that someone special, she did it without much romance peppered into it, which ironically, made the song soooo romantic!
Anyway, this post in not meant to be a tribute to Alanis. Rather, it's about getting help when and from those you least expect it.
One of the downsides of having your other half as a consultant, is the time you have to spend away from each other. I think many consultants' wives out there can attest to living a life as if you're a single mum most of the time. If you're lucky, you get to see your other half every weekend. For those who are not so lucky; it could be once a month or once every three months.
BEM's next project happens to be somewhere in the land of the Queen and fish and chips. From what I've been told it will be a two year project and he might be leaving for the initial phase for about 2 months pretty soon. I was upset initially. Then I was ok. Later I panicked!
It suddenly hit me that this new project could potentially ruined my well laid out plan. Not having BEM for the birth of our little beanie was out of the question! I even made it known to him that I will not forgive him EVER if he's not there with me. Such was my conviction to the original plan.
I also took it for granted that he's going to be there to help me deal with little beanie during her early days; that we can do some kind of a "passing of the baton". I conveniently erased all variables relating to his work in the equation.
I calculated wrongly. All those years sitting in front of Mr. Woodsworth's class discussing about different sets of possible variables had gone to waste. Heh.
Let's be honest here. Motherhood is new to me and I freaked out when it dawned on me that I might probably start this journey without BEM. It suddenly hit me that it's the real deal. Little beanie will not arrive with an instruction pamphlet tied to her body. What if I don't know what to do? I can't shove her back into my tummy, can I? It was so overwhelming that I found myself crying everytime I thought about it. And this was coming from someone who thrived on challenges. Shame on me! But to my defense, the hormones were raging. So, I was not really myself.
Anyhow, after a few miserable days and some gentle persuasions from BEM, I made my fears known to him; all my worries and frustrations at the possibility of not having the ideal situation for the impending arrival of our little beanie. I cried myself silly.
He sat there, across the table, listening intensely while holding my hands. All the while, he did not let his gaze off of me. And when I was done, he not only assured me that things will be allright, but also insisted that we go through my concerns one by one and see how we can overcome them or at the very least, make them more bearable. He pragmatically set out plans for all possible eventuals, from untimely labour to little beanie's logistic once I start work again (since we bravely decide against hiring any domestic helper).
At the end of our discussion, I felt relieved. What a difference it made to have a supportive and understanding partner! Rather than snubbing me off or calling me irrational, he helped me to see things more clearly and realize that it's not as catastrophic as I'd imagined it to be.
Relieved, I set off to work the next day recharged. Whilst having lunch with 2 of my work colleagues-turned-good-friends, I told them about my "meghoyan" episode. Almost immmediately, both said they'll be more than happy to help babysit little beanie when and if ever I need a helping hand or a breather whilst BEM is away. "After all, we live so close to each other," they add.
I was stunned and deeply touched. I was not expecting them to offer such kindness. It's true that sometimes, we'll find help from the unexpected.
No one said we have to do everything ourselves. Real independence is just a concept without much practical value. We need help or reliance onto others, no matter how small, to go through our lives. And I realize there's nothing shameful in admitting that we need help. Neither it is a sign of weakness or incompetence.
The only danger is when we abuse the hospitality and sincerity offered to us.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
COULD IT BE?
Sugar and spice and all things nice... Forewarned BEM on the prospect of having TWO drama queens in the house. Hahahaha!!!
I can't wait to see my little beanie!
I can't wait to see my little beanie!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
WHEN BITTEN BY THE LAZY BUG
I’m in no mood to work today. So, rather than browsing the internet aimlessly, I thought I might as well channel the energy into updating the blog for a change.
Pregnancy update:
I’ve reached 20 weeks! Woo-hoo!!! However, despite the joyous mood, I can’t help but being a worry wart. I still fear that things might/ can go wrong. After the string of dramas during my first trimester, I realize how easy it is for things to go wrong and it’s not always within my control.
“Welcome to mommyhood”, exclaimed Mel. “You’ll never stop worrying. In fact, you’ll worry about your kid(s) for the rest of your life”.
Are you kid-ding me?
How very comforting. But then again, I’m beginning to see the truth in what Mel said. Funny how I get so wrapped up over matters that relate to the little beanie that’s growing in utero. The blood test came out recently. All looked good. Was a bit worried about the Down syndrome test. Alhamdulillah, result has shown that little beanie is on the low risk.
My current paranoia? Movements. I know it’s a tad early to feel any real movement, but my sis-in-law keeps telling me how she’s getting the flutters from her little one. My little beanie? Almost nada movement. Is that normal? BEM keeps reassuring me that I’ll feel his movements in no time. Quick sayang! Show me some signs! Hehehe…Soon, you’ll discover how impatient your mama can be. Be that as it may, it’s a trait I do not wish you to inherit. I’d rather you have your daddy’s patience and cool temperament. And yes, not to mention his good looks! :p I love his big brown eyes, thick eyebrows and intoxicatingly sweet smile. *Blush*
Every now and then, I poke the growing tummy. Just to irritate the tenant inside. Your mama so evil like that!!! Most of the time, little beanie is too content swimming in the warm amniotic fluid that he could not be bothered to respond. Maybe not yet.
I have another appointment with my wonderful ob-gyn this Saturday. Dr. Michael Samy is heaven sent! He’s ever so patient and accommodating. He’ll entertain all your questions, no matter how silly some of them are. Most importantly, he is not condescending. BEM adores him too.
Hopefully little beanie will cooperate during ultrasound. I want to be able to have a peep at you know what!
Pregnancy update:
I’ve reached 20 weeks! Woo-hoo!!! However, despite the joyous mood, I can’t help but being a worry wart. I still fear that things might/ can go wrong. After the string of dramas during my first trimester, I realize how easy it is for things to go wrong and it’s not always within my control.
“Welcome to mommyhood”, exclaimed Mel. “You’ll never stop worrying. In fact, you’ll worry about your kid(s) for the rest of your life”.
Are you kid-ding me?
How very comforting. But then again, I’m beginning to see the truth in what Mel said. Funny how I get so wrapped up over matters that relate to the little beanie that’s growing in utero. The blood test came out recently. All looked good. Was a bit worried about the Down syndrome test. Alhamdulillah, result has shown that little beanie is on the low risk.
My current paranoia? Movements. I know it’s a tad early to feel any real movement, but my sis-in-law keeps telling me how she’s getting the flutters from her little one. My little beanie? Almost nada movement. Is that normal? BEM keeps reassuring me that I’ll feel his movements in no time. Quick sayang! Show me some signs! Hehehe…Soon, you’ll discover how impatient your mama can be. Be that as it may, it’s a trait I do not wish you to inherit. I’d rather you have your daddy’s patience and cool temperament. And yes, not to mention his good looks! :p I love his big brown eyes, thick eyebrows and intoxicatingly sweet smile. *Blush*
Every now and then, I poke the growing tummy. Just to irritate the tenant inside. Your mama so evil like that!!! Most of the time, little beanie is too content swimming in the warm amniotic fluid that he could not be bothered to respond. Maybe not yet.
I have another appointment with my wonderful ob-gyn this Saturday. Dr. Michael Samy is heaven sent! He’s ever so patient and accommodating. He’ll entertain all your questions, no matter how silly some of them are. Most importantly, he is not condescending. BEM adores him too.
Hopefully little beanie will cooperate during ultrasound. I want to be able to have a peep at you know what!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
GOOD VS. EVIL
“For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters.” – Kahlil Gibran
Dang! I’d give anything to be able to weave and compose simple words into a masterpiece. But then again, maybe not in this lifetime; the savagery that is capital market has somehow snapped my ability to express in words the juxtaposed thoughts in my head save for those related to work. It drains every iota of energy and creativity out of this aging-faster-than-the-thawing-iceberg body and mind. Many a night, I found myself staring blankly at the screen, not searching but begging for those words that hide between the crevasses in this pea size brain to come out. Whoever told me that “tortured souls make the best poets” must be lying! I’m tortured everyday at work.
And I still have nothing to prove in terms of my literary pursuit (is there one? heh!).
Ok, I digress.
Mr. Gibran makes me think. Sometimes he intoxicates me with his words. Most times, his words touch my soul. Often, he provides form to my emotions. Like these words; I can readily relate to the current happenings. I’m no political analyst and I think we have garnered enough these few months to last us a long time. I’m nothing but a lowly pleb trying to make sense out of this twisted saga (without slandering anybody along the way).
It appears that each camp is out to prove their righteousness and their rejection of whatever that is perceived as evil. Whichever camp they’re in, the opposing camp is always the evil one. Their every move condemned. Their every action deplored. And they’d feel more superior after each time they succeed in portraying the opposing side as evil. It’s a vicious cycle. Will it ever end?
If only we try to see the evil or perceived evil as possibly stemming from a good deed or intention, then perhaps we’d be more forgiving, understanding and not quick to judge. An example; pilferage is wrong. There’s no denying. But would we be more forgiving if we know that the thief steals out of desperation; because he’s hungry or because he’s desperate to feed his brothers and sisters and he has no money to spare? Would we still punish him in the same degree as those stealing due to lack of desire to earn money properly and honestly?
Perhaps the analogy is way too simple but my point is this: if only we see the possible good that precedes the evil, then perhaps we’d be more understanding and forgiving. I must make it clear here; I’m not condoning what is wrong, but I’m merely propagating a more tolerant reaction, maybe not in all, but most circumstances.
By putting evil acts in this perspective, it provides a glimmer of hope for reconciliation and rectification and rather than making evil act appears rather distant from ourselves, we can relate to it. By this I mean we accept that we are all human and we err. Admit it; most of us have this habit of making ourselves appear holier than the rest when faced with a condemning issue. We make every possible effort to show that we are spiritually and morally superior and under no circumstances would we be committing the same hideous or evil act. Our exterior expressions provide the façade that hides the truth; that sometimes, we are no better than the condemned himself. The only difference is that we might be good at hiding the skeletons and no one manages to catch us yet!
Am I making sense at all? All I know is that I’m sick of the bickerings, sick of the slanderous blogs, sick of the media that over-dramatizes everything (negatively!), sick of reporters who think they’re doing great public service by pouring more fuel onto the fire through their writings.
I want to know that there are still good in this country. That despite all our differences, we can still live harmoniously next to each other. I want to be assured that we are not going to end up like the Hutus and Tutsis in Rwanda.
My poor unborn child…
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters.” – Kahlil Gibran
Dang! I’d give anything to be able to weave and compose simple words into a masterpiece. But then again, maybe not in this lifetime; the savagery that is capital market has somehow snapped my ability to express in words the juxtaposed thoughts in my head save for those related to work. It drains every iota of energy and creativity out of this aging-faster-than-the-thawing-iceberg body and mind. Many a night, I found myself staring blankly at the screen, not searching but begging for those words that hide between the crevasses in this pea size brain to come out. Whoever told me that “tortured souls make the best poets” must be lying! I’m tortured everyday at work.
And I still have nothing to prove in terms of my literary pursuit (is there one? heh!).
Ok, I digress.
Mr. Gibran makes me think. Sometimes he intoxicates me with his words. Most times, his words touch my soul. Often, he provides form to my emotions. Like these words; I can readily relate to the current happenings. I’m no political analyst and I think we have garnered enough these few months to last us a long time. I’m nothing but a lowly pleb trying to make sense out of this twisted saga (without slandering anybody along the way).
It appears that each camp is out to prove their righteousness and their rejection of whatever that is perceived as evil. Whichever camp they’re in, the opposing camp is always the evil one. Their every move condemned. Their every action deplored. And they’d feel more superior after each time they succeed in portraying the opposing side as evil. It’s a vicious cycle. Will it ever end?
If only we try to see the evil or perceived evil as possibly stemming from a good deed or intention, then perhaps we’d be more forgiving, understanding and not quick to judge. An example; pilferage is wrong. There’s no denying. But would we be more forgiving if we know that the thief steals out of desperation; because he’s hungry or because he’s desperate to feed his brothers and sisters and he has no money to spare? Would we still punish him in the same degree as those stealing due to lack of desire to earn money properly and honestly?
Perhaps the analogy is way too simple but my point is this: if only we see the possible good that precedes the evil, then perhaps we’d be more understanding and forgiving. I must make it clear here; I’m not condoning what is wrong, but I’m merely propagating a more tolerant reaction, maybe not in all, but most circumstances.
By putting evil acts in this perspective, it provides a glimmer of hope for reconciliation and rectification and rather than making evil act appears rather distant from ourselves, we can relate to it. By this I mean we accept that we are all human and we err. Admit it; most of us have this habit of making ourselves appear holier than the rest when faced with a condemning issue. We make every possible effort to show that we are spiritually and morally superior and under no circumstances would we be committing the same hideous or evil act. Our exterior expressions provide the façade that hides the truth; that sometimes, we are no better than the condemned himself. The only difference is that we might be good at hiding the skeletons and no one manages to catch us yet!
Am I making sense at all? All I know is that I’m sick of the bickerings, sick of the slanderous blogs, sick of the media that over-dramatizes everything (negatively!), sick of reporters who think they’re doing great public service by pouring more fuel onto the fire through their writings.
I want to know that there are still good in this country. That despite all our differences, we can still live harmoniously next to each other. I want to be assured that we are not going to end up like the Hutus and Tutsis in Rwanda.
My poor unborn child…
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
LIFE'S CHALLENGES
Blame it on the raging hormone accompanying this pregnancy! The tears keep flowing and for a moment I didn't know how to control the outburst. So I let myself feel the pain and the tears trickling down my cheeks. I tremble uncontrollably. Masyaallah, God is great. I keep reciting the zikir...
Dear RG,
We don't know each other and probably never will. But your faith, courage, and strength have left me ashamed with myself most of the time. Your love for your children and husband reminds this wretched soul not to take her own family for granted. While some others in the same situation would shun the rest of the world and drown in self pity, you selflessly share and provide a glimpse of your life to us. Even in your flailing state, your wisdom shines. For that, I'm forever grateful. You show me what it means to be "redha" and to accept life's challenges as messages of love from Him.
Your posting today makes want to run to BEM immediately. I want to kiss his hand and seek forgiveness from him. Often times, we say and do things that might hurt our loved ones without realizing it. Sometimes it's our ego that gets in the way. At other times, it's our failure to contain our anger. We forget that life is fragile. There might not be another day to say "I'm sorry" or "I love you" to those closest to our heart.
RG,
I pray for your continued faith, strength and courage. I will include you in my doa. That is my only "sedekah" to you.
Dear RG,
We don't know each other and probably never will. But your faith, courage, and strength have left me ashamed with myself most of the time. Your love for your children and husband reminds this wretched soul not to take her own family for granted. While some others in the same situation would shun the rest of the world and drown in self pity, you selflessly share and provide a glimpse of your life to us. Even in your flailing state, your wisdom shines. For that, I'm forever grateful. You show me what it means to be "redha" and to accept life's challenges as messages of love from Him.
Your posting today makes want to run to BEM immediately. I want to kiss his hand and seek forgiveness from him. Often times, we say and do things that might hurt our loved ones without realizing it. Sometimes it's our ego that gets in the way. At other times, it's our failure to contain our anger. We forget that life is fragile. There might not be another day to say "I'm sorry" or "I love you" to those closest to our heart.
RG,
I pray for your continued faith, strength and courage. I will include you in my doa. That is my only "sedekah" to you.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
AUTUMN
As I look through the glass window, I can see the clouds gathering, forming gigantic blurring ripples across the sky. A sure sign of impending heavy burst. The weather today reminds me of those gloomy autumn season when I was in London. Aahhh... how time flies.
Autumn never failed to invoke the melancholy in me. One autumn evening, even as I weaved my way passed the street performers and the flocking tourists in Covent Garden, I couldn't help but felt disconnected from the rest of the world. It's as if I was invinsible and my presence was as good as the wind gushing against those flushed pink cheeks and golden brown hair. The string quartet playing in the background provided perfect halwa for my ears. It's like a befitting theme song for whatever I was feeling inside; emptiness, sorrow, guilt and anger all moulded into one.
There was a scar in my heart and I think it will remain there possibly forever.
I learned to grow up in this city, thousand of miles away from home.
Autumn never failed to invoke the melancholy in me. One autumn evening, even as I weaved my way passed the street performers and the flocking tourists in Covent Garden, I couldn't help but felt disconnected from the rest of the world. It's as if I was invinsible and my presence was as good as the wind gushing against those flushed pink cheeks and golden brown hair. The string quartet playing in the background provided perfect halwa for my ears. It's like a befitting theme song for whatever I was feeling inside; emptiness, sorrow, guilt and anger all moulded into one.
There was a scar in my heart and I think it will remain there possibly forever.
I learned to grow up in this city, thousand of miles away from home.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
STILL AROUND?
A conversation that took place at my office before a meeting started this morning:
Guy1: Wow! you're still here.
Me: Whaddaya mean?
Guy1: You're still with the organization. You've passed the sixth month mark already, haven't you?
Me: yeah.
Guy2: Ya la...None of the previous heads of "that" department ever lasted more than six months. Too much pressure.
Me: Really? Hhmm..
Guy1: I have a theory on your staying power.
Me: Shoot. I wanna hear.
Guy1: Because you're a woman. I seriously think women in general, handle pressure better than men.
Me: You think? hahahaha!!! (I'm sure BEM begs to differ, since he's my reluctant "punching bag")
Guy1: And you're more gutsy than the person previously holding your office.
Me: Geez... thanks. I don't know whether it's good or bad, but I shall take it positively.
Seriously, I think this guy is just sucking up...simply because he has a vested interest; he wants to make sure I'll prepare the documents that he wants soon. Cheeky @#$!&*!
Regardless, I'd like to think it's true; that women handle pressure at work with much finesse compared to men. I know many men out there would vomit blood after reading this post. But in my organization at least, the statement holds a lot of truth - the women are more firm, efficient and less emotional.
Guy1: Wow! you're still here.
Me: Whaddaya mean?
Guy1: You're still with the organization. You've passed the sixth month mark already, haven't you?
Me: yeah.
Guy2: Ya la...None of the previous heads of "that" department ever lasted more than six months. Too much pressure.
Me: Really? Hhmm..
Guy1: I have a theory on your staying power.
Me: Shoot. I wanna hear.
Guy1: Because you're a woman. I seriously think women in general, handle pressure better than men.
Me: You think? hahahaha!!! (I'm sure BEM begs to differ, since he's my reluctant "punching bag")
Guy1: And you're more gutsy than the person previously holding your office.
Me: Geez... thanks. I don't know whether it's good or bad, but I shall take it positively.
Seriously, I think this guy is just sucking up...simply because he has a vested interest; he wants to make sure I'll prepare the documents that he wants soon. Cheeky @#$!&*!
Regardless, I'd like to think it's true; that women handle pressure at work with much finesse compared to men. I know many men out there would vomit blood after reading this post. But in my organization at least, the statement holds a lot of truth - the women are more firm, efficient and less emotional.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
VULNERABLE
Dear mom is terribly ill. It's heartbreaking to see her helpless, losing ability to comb her hair or put on her clothes. Looking equally helpless is dear dad. At times like these, I wish I can do more to ease the pain. Tears (sometimes morphing into sobs) trickle down my face often, but never in their presence. There's this need to shelter them from my own vulnerability. Instinctively, I know I must be strong for them. But sometimes, it is just oh-so-hard...to hide the ripple of emotion.
I'm afraid to lose dear mom or dad for that matter.
I'm afraid to lose dear mom or dad for that matter.
Friday, March 21, 2008
CONVERSATION
BEM is on leave today. I wish I was too. I called him up in the afternoon:
Me: Hi Baby
BEM: Hi Baby. Had your lunch?
Me: Queuing to buy food. Gonna pack and have my lunch at the office pantry.
BEM: Ok.
Me: Why didn't you pick up my call earlier?
BEM: So sorry baby. I didn't hear the phone rang. I was scrubbing the balcony.
Me: Yeah?
BEM: I'll vacuum the floor after this.
Me: Ok baby. Oh, by the way, can you please take out the clothes from the washing machine and dry them?
BEM: Done that already.
Me: Thank you baby. You're the BEST! I owe you home cooked nasi lemak for breakfast.
BEM: You don't owe me anything. I love you baby.
Me: I love you too.
My BEM is the sweetest :D
Me: Hi Baby
BEM: Hi Baby. Had your lunch?
Me: Queuing to buy food. Gonna pack and have my lunch at the office pantry.
BEM: Ok.
Me: Why didn't you pick up my call earlier?
BEM: So sorry baby. I didn't hear the phone rang. I was scrubbing the balcony.
Me: Yeah?
BEM: I'll vacuum the floor after this.
Me: Ok baby. Oh, by the way, can you please take out the clothes from the washing machine and dry them?
BEM: Done that already.
Me: Thank you baby. You're the BEST! I owe you home cooked nasi lemak for breakfast.
BEM: You don't owe me anything. I love you baby.
Me: I love you too.
My BEM is the sweetest :D
ENVY
I read a dear friend's blog with much delight. She's just given birth to a beautiful baby boy earlier this month. And I can tell she's embracing motherhood like a champ. I wonder what it feels like to carry a baby till full term, to hold your baby for the first time, knowing you would give your life for this little being.
But as much as I am happy for my friend, I can't help but feeling a bit envious. If things were ok (which clearly they're not), I would be 6 months preggar by now. The baby was supposed to be due in June. God! Sometimes, I feel so frustrated I don't even know how to vent it out. I stopped talking, watching or even looking at babies or anything that has got to do with them. That's how I defend myself most of the time. I learn to be indifferent about motherhood. It's not so difficult to do when I'm at work; I would let myself drown in the madness and pretend that my career defines who I am and I don't need another being to make me feel complete. But then, there'll be days like this... when I feel completely and utterly helpless. As I am typing this, I can feel pool of tears forming. I know what I have to do; recollect myself, wipe the tears, hold my head up high and pretend everything is A-OK.
But as much as I am happy for my friend, I can't help but feeling a bit envious. If things were ok (which clearly they're not), I would be 6 months preggar by now. The baby was supposed to be due in June. God! Sometimes, I feel so frustrated I don't even know how to vent it out. I stopped talking, watching or even looking at babies or anything that has got to do with them. That's how I defend myself most of the time. I learn to be indifferent about motherhood. It's not so difficult to do when I'm at work; I would let myself drown in the madness and pretend that my career defines who I am and I don't need another being to make me feel complete. But then, there'll be days like this... when I feel completely and utterly helpless. As I am typing this, I can feel pool of tears forming. I know what I have to do; recollect myself, wipe the tears, hold my head up high and pretend everything is A-OK.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT
It's not a good start to a short break. Been feeling quesy since last night and my hunch was spot on. I got my period this morning. Another month of disappointment.
After the miscarriage last November, things have been difficult, emotionally. Sometimes, I don't even know how to handle myself. I'm angry most of the time. And the fact that BEM is taking up a job that requires him to travel extensively DOES NOT help at all!
So here I am... struggling to get pregnant. And things ain't always pretty. Such is life....
After the miscarriage last November, things have been difficult, emotionally. Sometimes, I don't even know how to handle myself. I'm angry most of the time. And the fact that BEM is taking up a job that requires him to travel extensively DOES NOT help at all!
So here I am... struggling to get pregnant. And things ain't always pretty. Such is life....
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
WEATHER
My mood seems to run parallel with the weather. It's been cloudy all day...
Thank god tomorrow's a public holiday.
Thank god tomorrow's a public holiday.
Friday, March 14, 2008
ALPHABETS, WORDS, SENTENCES
I once asked a friend, whose writings flow so effortlessly like cotton candy swirling around its stick, on her take to a good, interesting piece. Her answer is: write something that is close to your heart. And don't be too hard-up for BIG words. Keep the sentence structures simple for a start, but as you gradually identify your style, start to experiment and play with the many punctuations. Learn how each punctuation can be manipulated in order to get the desired effect in your composition.
That does NOT sound so bad, does it???
Truth be told, I find the first requisite to be the hardest. When I write, I want to maintain a certain level of objectivity and I can't seem to find this equilibrium when it comes to most matters that are close to my heart. The emotions start to run wild and everything becomes a bit too much: too much anger or too much love, too much sugar, salt or chilli. I'm like a hopeful chef dreaming of concocting the gobsmacking killer recipe with the right kind of balance and achieving "God" or "Goddess" status to the likes of Jamie Oliver, Anthony Bourdain, Nigella Lawson (seriously, she makes it look so easy to be sexy in the kitchen. I'm convinced it's not possible to imitate in real life. I tried. Didn't get the result I had hoped for. The chocolate sauce and honey jars were left intact and BEM was all the time in the living room, on his throne, eyes glued to the idiotbox. Heh).
Anyway, where were we? Yes, my objectivity...
Let's see how it'll progress. I intend to be more disciplined this time round and perhaps get my hands dirty with fiction. I will learn to take my time and hopefully the story will unfold itself. I need some inspirations.
Something completely random..."I never wish to be somebody else. I only wish to have their shoes".
That does NOT sound so bad, does it???
Truth be told, I find the first requisite to be the hardest. When I write, I want to maintain a certain level of objectivity and I can't seem to find this equilibrium when it comes to most matters that are close to my heart. The emotions start to run wild and everything becomes a bit too much: too much anger or too much love, too much sugar, salt or chilli. I'm like a hopeful chef dreaming of concocting the gobsmacking killer recipe with the right kind of balance and achieving "God" or "Goddess" status to the likes of Jamie Oliver, Anthony Bourdain, Nigella Lawson (seriously, she makes it look so easy to be sexy in the kitchen. I'm convinced it's not possible to imitate in real life. I tried. Didn't get the result I had hoped for. The chocolate sauce and honey jars were left intact and BEM was all the time in the living room, on his throne, eyes glued to the idiotbox. Heh).
Anyway, where were we? Yes, my objectivity...
Let's see how it'll progress. I intend to be more disciplined this time round and perhaps get my hands dirty with fiction. I will learn to take my time and hopefully the story will unfold itself. I need some inspirations.
Something completely random..."I never wish to be somebody else. I only wish to have their shoes".
Thursday, March 13, 2008
WHAT'S WITH THE TRAFFIC JAM? IT'S ONLY THURSDAY...
So I’m messing with my blog when work is what I should be doing. I hope this is not one of my futile attempts at reviving my writing habit. The well dried up. It was barren. Not a single drop was left. Perhaps it’s true; creative juice only belongs to those tortured souls!?? Ok someone, spank me, please.
There are so many things running in my head, sometimes I find it hard to catch up with myself. It’s true and it frustrates me on most occasions. I can’t seem to articulate them in words the ways I wanted them to appear. As a result, they stayed in my head, like endless echoes. When I tried to pen them down, they always came out patchy, disconnected or sometimes…like a composition by someone who tries too hard to put her thoughts together (which is true!!).
I’m starting afresh and laying down some rules…only to be broken later.
The cacophony of horns piercing through my window from the traffic below suddenly becomes a bit too distracting. Now, where’s my caffeine fix?
The aroma of LavaZZa lingers from the pantry and finds its way to my room…
There are so many things running in my head, sometimes I find it hard to catch up with myself. It’s true and it frustrates me on most occasions. I can’t seem to articulate them in words the ways I wanted them to appear. As a result, they stayed in my head, like endless echoes. When I tried to pen them down, they always came out patchy, disconnected or sometimes…like a composition by someone who tries too hard to put her thoughts together (which is true!!).
I’m starting afresh and laying down some rules…only to be broken later.
The cacophony of horns piercing through my window from the traffic below suddenly becomes a bit too distracting. Now, where’s my caffeine fix?
The aroma of LavaZZa lingers from the pantry and finds its way to my room…
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