Archive for the ‘The Dreamer Within’ Category

Love Never Dies

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As Andrew Lloyd Webber said, “There’s unfinished business.

Even though it is emphasized as a standalone piece, the mass still can’t help but see it as a sequel, one that would mend the heartbreak of many when Christine didn’t end up with the Phantom.

And now, there is a reason for me to return again next year March, just to catch Love Never Dies in London, with the lustable Ramin Karimloo in action.

And tickets are already on sale. Gasp!

I watched the media launch video and my hair still stood with all the adrenaline rushing.

BREATHE, TING, BREATHE!

I am impossibly excited, for there is a good enough reason for me to plan for another trip that couldn’t quite take place this year. Really damn thrilled to read about it, like there is a chance of continuing that tale that has left a moroseness with its bittersweetness.

With that dreaminess, I certainly am hoping it will live up to the expectations, and not just banking on its predecessor’s success just to drive sales. And am looking forward to see if the new pieces are gonna be as moving as those we came to familiarise.

And I made a promise to myself, that, hopefully by then, things would be taking flight, and Claris will get her diamond spa, and we will meet to shop anywhere in the world.

And that reminded of the plan we sat through nights to talk about, and how it could finally, possibly, take place.

Impeccable timing.

Misty

I went to the pantry to grab a drink after talking with partners for a good half day, and stared out into the distant, out of the window.

Wait a minute, what distant?

I couldn’t decide if it was raining… or.. oh, ahh.. it was just, misty.

Ya, ya, I know it is HAZY, not misty, but hey, don’t argue with the romantic in the very hormonal lady, thank you very much.

Then, yearning for something smooth and soothing, I youtube-d for this, and while I breathed in the chilled, cleaner air in the office, the mist haze actually convince me enough that I am anywhere but here.

What a contrast, where I was standing under the scorching sun, hailing a cab at NUS, and dozing off from the fatigue I couldn’t quite fight, nor overcome anymore.

I NEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD MY SPAAAACCCEEEEEEEEEE.

Wouldn’t it be nice to just leave everything behind and run, walk, stroll, crawl, or whatever at my own varied pace.

I canceled all lessons/sessions/meet ups this week, but still, I didn’t get home till 2ish for past 2 nights.

Was at NUS today and saw a series of Contiki catalogue and it is time to put actions to words.

***

Random: Was reading news about how 20% of teenagers losing their virginity at the grand, old, age of 16 (I said I was chaste and innocent, didn’t I?). Then I shuddered at the thought that the figures might well be increasing in another 13 years’ time.

If I have a son, I might just give him a pat on the back for a job well done (no, seriously, I don’t mean that), but those who have daughters will understand, hor?

***

Last night I was jolted awake and my heart raced when the storm approached out of nowhere, and created a ruckus in the middle of the night.

I remember I whimpered and then thought I was dreaming. I kinda chided myself when the 2nd roar came up to prove I wasn’t dreaming.

I think my defensiveness got mellowed last night when I was sleeping or something, I thought I am even too tired to feel scared, but apparently I was wrong.

I blame it on the hormones making me a scaredy, defenseless, whimpering wimp.

I don’t have much excuses for other times now, do I?

***

Woken up to a plenty of fuss this morning.

The new big-screen LCD TV was fixed up (Yay!) and sofa set (cos it’s free, from my dad’s friend, I shall not complain about how hard and uncomfortable antique chairs are) arrived to replace the almost 15 years-old one.

Suddenly, I can’t wait to achieve what I set out to achieve by the end of the year, so that I can finally get a place of my own.

With only 3-figure in my bank account in early 2008 (yes, I only have ONE account and not those secret savings/spending accounts people have), I know it is almost impossible to get 6-figured savings by this year end.

Still, I can try, right? There’s always roulette or something. Giggles.

Kidding!

With the frivoulous spending this year (trust me, it WAS CRAZY! Considering I don’t think I spend much, I don’t know where all the money go to), it would take some kind of miracle for me to get 1/4, or should God be really gracious and Singapore Pools to be absolutely generous, 1/2 way (I am not greedy!) or 3/4 way there.

I think it is this eagerness to try out everything and get myself out of this predicament that these days I am busy searching, trying, and many of such need mooooolah to sustain.

How to get a house like this?!

And of course… the topic of childcare and schooling for Minibean.

I shall build something.

But build something need moolah also.

Chicken and egg theory all over again.

Ohhhhh wellllll.

I wanna reverse the fact of my 2 left feet :)

***

Someone and I were chatting about the eerie coincidences… and strangely I just said how I don’t believe in coincidences anymore. Heh.

The world is far too fucking small for comfort.

***

I am feeling a lil dreamy today, and it feels kinda safe, kinda nice :)

UP – Cross my heart

I think this totally deserves a post of its own.

Those who know me well know that I am not a fan of watching animated movies in the theatres for various reasons, one of which is I would buy the DVD to watch with Minibean, or that I think that the television could give a more cosy watching experience as I snuggle under the duvet with her.

But after hearing all the raving reviews, and reading about this touching story couple of months ago, I decided that giving the movie a shot in the cinema was well justified.

Plus, I have a good reason to finally go for my first ever 3D movie experience (minus those from eras before in the science theatres, or theme parks)!

So off I went, for the 3D experience.

Before the movie started, there is a short 3D animation which is not to be missed. Though I am not sure if it comes with the non-3D animation or not.

And at the end of it, I was all teary-eyed, and I want a Carl..

Hereonforth… SPOILERS alert!

- The only gripe I have on wearing the special goggles is that… this is a movie which will move you to tears.. and make you weep and you have to keep adjusting it to dry your eyes.

It was such a sweet, sweet movie.

Of renewed hope, of… so many things.

I was just so devastated when they lost the baby, and when she fell on the hillslope, how he worked all his life to make her happy, and after her death, to fulfil the dreams they shared.

I know it is just animation, but it was just so awfully sweet to see them grow old together, and the way they looked at each other in the eyes…

So full of love, full of adoration.

The way he remembers her preferences. Even to the way the way she would like the ornaments to be placed.

He always remembers his promise to her, as he crosses his heart whenever he promises her.

His gentle soul.

And how he decided to live the remaining of his life to the max, just for… her.

To her, the adventure of her life, was just.. having a loving, fulfilling life, with him by her side. The moments they shared, were bigger than any of the dreams she ever had.

I love the way when he crosses his heart and the look in his eyes, and the smile he flashes.

I love the part when the little boy spoke about the rejection from his father, and then as he fell asleep, he asked Carl, “Cross you heart?

I love the part when he reread the album they shared, and found what she had left for him.

I love the part whenever he looks at her picture.

I also love when the credits rolled, cos I thought it was so clever as they illustrated the crew with an album of Carl’s adventures from then on.

Of course, the part when the whole cinema was just shocked into silence, as we mourned together with Carl…. as he lost her. And people were busy with drying their eyes.

It just warms you up, and makes you feel again, without defenses.

I love the part when the 2 elderlies fought and I laughed hard.

I love the part when the rare bird reunited with her family.

I rethink what the movie touches me with, and I got all teary.

I love the part of the dog’s loyalty. And the part he became an alpha. Hahaha!

It is one that will make you smile, make you cry, and make you laugh.

And make you treasure whatever you have, and not leave it till it is too late.

Lovely, lovely, show.

The journey to Moscow

This post is a year too late.

Too many experiences left un-jotted, and when they are revisited, gee, what a difference it made.

It was May 2008.

An impromptu trip that fulfilled one of my life-long wish.

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There was barely any time left for any planning, and it was almost just pack and go for me. Nonetheless, it was an experience that made me feel alive, and cost me a great deal of damage to the vocal chords.

The craziest bit was perhaps how I managed to be sleepless for many days just to see myself through the trip, and then rush back for a compulsory meeting. It was 3 awesome, amazing days. Met plenty of amazing people, from check-in at Changi, where we met fellow Manchester United fans who shared the same destination, and befriended some Chelsea fans.

Andrew and Edwin were coincidentally sitting right in front of us on board, and I recently wrote about a chanced meeting in the lift where I realised Edwin works in the same building as I do.

The Russian family seated behind us was more than helpful with giving us advices, and we felt the friendliness of the Russians as we set off to our destination.

On board, I wrote. And reading back what I had not re-read for a year, brought back the vivid memories.

5228 – For that’s the distance, in miles, that separated me from my destination this morning.

I managed to use the terminal at Gate E24 10 minutes before take-off, and thus, the hasty 2 sentences. Unfortunately, I forgot my password, or else I could have added pictures by blogging from my notebook, instead of the airport’s desktop.

And at this moment, I am grazing above the shores of Caspian Sea, and despite the altitude of 34801ft, I could vaguely see the green waters in the midst of earth beneath the fluffy clouds.

We are now cutting through the land to the other side of the sea. It will be a while more before we once again hover above the Caspian Sea, and as we get to the other side of the land, it is where I will be for the next 3 days.

As I chose to watch the flight path over the endless movies on KrisWorld, it provides me with great sense of… what’s the word? No, there’s no word for an adult like me with an excitement of a ten year-old.

Half an hour ago, when I was roused awake from my nap, I was anticipating the plane to fly above the Caspian Sea as I followed the flight path closely.

Now, I will be touching down in 2 hours’ time, and the glee in me has yet to be subsided. It is like an adventure I have been waiting for, looking forward to, the longest time. Just that this time, it was a moment of insanity and irrationality (not forgetting, impromptu-ness) that are bringing me where I am heading.

At this point, I have no regrets. And it is moments for me to relive over and over again, even though I have yet to touch down in a mysterious country that certainly charms.

We have flown above countries with names I never knew existed, and I saw snow-capped mountains when the sky didn’t blind me when I opened the window.

And now, as I once again lifted the window, I could see the sea of green out there, and that’s the beauty of Caspian Sea greeting me.

(Oh, and did I mention about the sudden bout of turbulence at this moment?)

We grazed Pakistan, Ahfganistan, India, Turkmenistan… and the landscape is gorgeous as it reminds me of my geography text back in secondary school days.

For frequent traveller, it may be nothing new. The last time I had travelled long distance to UK, my language ability didn’t get me far enough to want to document each and every single step of my journey.

Since then, I never quite travelled far enough to feel the same way again.

Perhaps I did manage to recover some of those old feelings I so desperately search for in recent days.

And oh, did I mention the other part of all these, that I enjoyed most? In this flight, we made friends with a banker, a lawyer, an Australian, and a couple of Russians. We even chatted with the air stewards(oh, for those who are curious, they are nice people.. Uhm, you get what I mean? Cough. Nice.. not cough, cute).

All thanks to the banker who dressed up to the occasion and provided some sort of “direction” for us to head.

They are great company and making friends with strangers like this, is simply awesome. Listening to their stories, and having a piece of home close to you.

And I ain’t gonna miss letting that feeling slip by me again.

So I am glad, that I just spent the last 15 minutes, jotting this down on the plane, for it will be one for me to remember, and no one else.

And now as my meal is served, I wish I can get to use the damn loo for I need to pee badly. But now, let me figure out how to squeeze myself out when the seatbelt sign is on, and that there is food on the tray.

Will load this as soon as I manage to get to somewhere.

Love,

Ting (6.24pm Singapore Time)

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Chapter 2

I could now see scattered households, winding rivers, roads, green fields, and factions of lands in different hues.

Very pretty.

And those shadows of the clouds. Shades to some others, but just a mere patch of shadows from where I see them.

Cotton candies in the sky,

I am now an hour away from my destination, and quite nicely, I have a very nostalgic album playing on KrisWorld – Robbie ” Sexy Williams” with his greatest hits, which are essentially what I listened to everyday 10 years ago.

Oh, guess what I just saw? A trail left by another plane many feet beneath us. As I traced the source, I saw another carrier stacking just beneath us a distance away. Amazing. I tried to get a closer look, and I just hit my head against the window, clumsy as always.

Russia is now beneath me, as we are above somewhere…. somewhere… somewhere… like towards Lipetsk.

And Moscow isn’t too far away.

I just had another nice meal onboard though I feel I am seriously overeating. It sucks when you are travelling with someone who doesn’t eat much, and reminded that our last meal was barely 3 hours ago, not forgetting how I chomped down Famous Amos cookies and potato chips just after that.

What can I say? I love aircraft food, and eye-candies, if any.

Woooohoo. The plane is doing a swerve in the sky.

No regrets. They don’t work. No regrets now, they only hurt.

I can’t believe how 8+ hours ago, I was skipping around Terminal 2, getting all hyped about getting on the plane again.

I can’t believe how I was just offered the chance less than a week ago, and within a week, an air ticket was promptly bought, and a visa quickly processed.

As I took in the magnificent view of everything out there, and just ravel in its beauty, I am reminded of just how big the world it is out there. A world I almost forgotten. And one I know I would soon take for granted, should I have the chance to travel again some time soon.

45 minutes more and I once again, will have to go through the anxiety of the plane touching down. The nervousness seems to bug me whenever I am flying, as much as I love flying.

And I am missing my baby. I kissed her goodbye this morning, and it sucks I didn’t manage to bid her goodnight last night.

I guess to me, this trip is fulfilling for many reasons not many could comprehend.

And don’t ask me why I am so freaking emo over this trip, don’t ask me why I am emo-fying this trip. I really have no idea.

It is strange enough that every movie on KrisWorld brings me close to tears.

It is just funny that as we get ready to touch down in 40 minutes, the lady on the next row who was sleeping across 3 seats, is now glamorously dressed in her green uniform, and the “uncle” I thought was with some old guy(who struck a conversation with me, asking me where I am heading), is now in a nice, crisp shirt…. well, apparently, they are on shifts, I think. Cos this plane upon touching down, continues on to Houston. And oh, the old guy is an air steward too (gulp!).

No wonder we were wondering why so many well made-up chicks from, which the guys were talking about.

Unfortunately for me, there isn’t much to look at. Hahaha.

Though the guys were jokingly saying if I ever can’t get a seat back from Moscow, I could always switch roles with one of the crew members (who are flying back on Thursday evening, which coincidentally is the flight I would rather get on, instead of the morning one), and get her to fly back on my behalf, and I will do high-class waitressing for her.

Okay, my company for the trip is complaining I write too much words, so I will try to litter with as many pictures as I can in these posts, soon!

Oh, we are now above Lipetsk and is 31 minutes from our destination.

Love,

Ting(7.46pm Singapore Time)

I have always loved Singapore Airlines, and it must have been a long, long time, since I last travelled with them.

And though there is one quality chick serving us, I am awfully puzzled why some of my most gorgeous friends with brilliant personality didn’t manage to get through those daunting selection process to be part of the crew.

And of course, where have all the cute guys gone?!

Oh, the lady is now back in her seat with the signature bun! So impressive!

And now the captain has just announced we will be descending pretty swiftly, so I have to end this abruptly.

Wheeeee Moscow, here I come.

Strangely, the weather is pretty warm so I guess the winter coat is not quite necessary.

But maybe I will still need it with me “hiao-ly” in a tube dress.

I think I now know where the cute guys(unverified, cos they are the air crew, which I haven’t laid… my eyes on) are seated. So as I go lay… my eyes on them, I have to end this, with my ears blocked.


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Finally. Touched down in Moscow Domodedovo International Airport. And Ming’s friend hosted us during my short stay, and brought us out for dinner.

I only managed to try the horse meat and cow’s tongue and the traditional Russian drink (and that means mixed with vodka, though I was assured it contained less than 1% of alcohol or something), before I blacked out in the restaurant and the chauffeur had to cut my evening short and send me back to their place.

Don’t doubt the charms of Moscow. It was grey during the days I was there and it reminded me of London. Damp, gloomy, yet with this rustic hue that makes the place utterly lovely.

The authentic Russian restaurant is one Putin frequents (I was too drunk to see whether he was there), but even before the borscht was served, I was already staggering out of the restaurant, unable to even see my steps as I only saw patches of black.

Super embarrassing can?!

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By the time I reached back to the accomodation, it was slowly getting dark, and I was getting a little more sober. I was the only person in the entire building and quite frankly I was quite the scaredy cat to be alone.

Thankfully it was long daytime in Moscow, and the fact that the armed guards are just opposite from where I was (I tried make conversation in their post, but the language barrier made it impossible) eased me up a little.

I have never seen a place as big as this, and it was beautiful with a big park where the ponies roamed. The pictures were taken close to 10pm, and it was still bright and nice.

And this was what I wrote in my room, concluding my first day of rendevous with Russia:

Chapter 3
The descend was a rocky one, and probably the shakiest I ever remember. But despite of the wind, the touchdown was one that was executed meticulously.
And I needed to be pinched to be convinced that, indeed, here I am, in Moscow.

Moscow gets dark only after 10pm, and by 5am, the first signs of light will seep through.

My first day in Moscow was a brief one. We were picked up from the airport by Lera, and were transported by an armoured vehicle to pick up our host, Daniel, before we headed for dinner.
The peak hour traffic was horrid, and Lera gave us brilliant accounts of the history behind some of the buildings.

Moscow is a quaint city. It is nice, like everyone says it to be, yet somehow, there is a certain coldness about it that lacks intimacy. Or maybe the weather that mimics London’s has something to do with it. It is not very European-ish, and actually reminds me a great deal of my hometown. More orderly and gorgeous, of course, with a style not seen anywhere else I had been.

But I actually do like the city. Maybe cos it reminds me of London. The people weren’t unfriendly as people made them out to be, despite the fact that they could be really racist.
We went for dinner at this uppity place near the residential area of Moscow, where Putin is a regular.
The hosts toasted us and I finished the small cup of drink which they told me has less than 0.01% of alcohol in it.

I held my breath as I took all I have in my guts to try the Cow’s tongue(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!! It’s spongey!) and dried horse meat (!!!!!!!!!!! It tastes like reeeeaaally weird).

At the end of it, I proudly declared… “I SURVIVED RUSSIA!” or rather, the food.

However, I was started to be really unwell and my vision started to blur.

And those who know me well would probably know what had happened.

That little cup of drink had K-Oed me, and I felt so unwell that I had to stumble out of the restaurant with the help of the guys(I couldn’t see at all!), packed into the car, and headed straight back to my accommodation.

It was perhaps 8 plus or 9pm by then, and my first night in Moscow had ended prematurely.

Yes 93.3fm – I LOVE 93.3FM MORNING SHOW!

As I busied myself and finally found some space to breathe after a disastrous presentation, I found myself reminiscing the good ol’ days when I was a pure 93.3fm junkie when I was a mere child.

Listening to Dasmond‘s smurfie goodnight song at 2am, and trying to record it, or trying to remember the lyrics and singalong to it with friends… I remember the first time I met him in person, I wanted to tell him how I always remember how he used to talk about him being Piscean(don’t ask me why I remember that of all things), and how the song (cutie voice and all) was playing in my mind.

I remember the brief conversation we had post-recording, and he gave a heartfelt, genuine point of view, before adding, “I know this is none of my business.. but if you can..” I felt the sincerity, I did. My nose that time got sour sour but shy shy to say. Hahaha.

I stayed up till almost 6am yesterday, and switched from my usual green-table companion channel (Class 95) to a dose of nostalgia.

All because? I heard Emil Chau’s Gu Zhen Nan Mian, and I suddenly remember an old friend who loved to sing Rang Wo Huan Xi Rang Wo You (NB! Don’t know why cannot read Chinese characters. -sulks-) to me, though his favourite was Bai Du Ren De Ge.

And just a coincidence that it is almost 7 years since he was gone.

I switched on the late night 93.3fm while spending my entire night rushing some work, and gee, what a walk down memory lane.

The familiar songs that made my hair stand and made me warm and fuzzy (I succumbed to switching on the aircon in the hall after spending hours baking in my own sweat).

It triggered the reminder of a once young dream of wanting to be 93.3fm DJ, and how I could read out and share others’ stories on air at night.

I think I must be getting old, the newer songs don’t appeal me that much anymore, though I heard this song twice, that managed to capture my attention.

It makes me feel like I am galloping on a vast grassland with my armpits in the air skipping in one of those country fields.. with yellow flowers (not that I like yellow flowers, but… that’s the mental image), and I smell hope and positivity. The kind that touches you, and makes you play an imaginary piano to the melody and smile resolutely to yourself with moist eyes.

See. I am young. I am emopop-sy.

And gee, what a song to listen to, on the day I finally am liberated (though the 2 hours sleep was barely enough, and I am too tired and I don’t think I can…. Okay. I just had a bimbo moment.

I digress. I just had a bimbo moment. You know how your mind disengaged from its gear for a while and you do something really stupid?

I thought I was typing in MSN and I thought I was going to tell Potato I am too tired and I don’t think I can blog even though I want to. Then I realise, DUH, I AM BLOGGING NOW WHAT!), and it makes me feel doubly liberating (oh, that was a long sentence bracket in between). I was totally unaware that I am actually blogging, which shows how autopilot I am.

Then I wanna blog about the songs that jolted my memory and emotions then I realise the blog obnoxiously ignores Chinese character I insert. Bah!

I heard Faye Wong’s Hong Dou twice last night, though the 2nd time was a male-version sang by someone else.

I have been into the theme song to The Ultimatum, and I will always wait for 9pm just to hear the song, catch a glimpse of Zoe Tay and Li Nanxing (okay, and the very woody Elvin), before the storyline will bore me enough to switch channel.

Liu Li Yang’s Ji Mo Guang Nian is awesome.

I feel like getting in touch the cheenah part of me, and I haven’t learnt my lesson well about how I have to be careful of what I wish for.

A colleague asked me if I would like to help her with translation. A part of me actually felt excited about that. The previous time I translated Chinese presentation to English, and this time, is the other way round. I feel it a great shame to let something I enjoyed and excelled in to slip away just like that.

And yeah, I love late night 93.3fm.

But ahem, of course nothing beats the chirpy morning show that has a magical way of turning a badly started morning round.

Rome

I want to go Rome.

I want to go Rome.

I want to go Rome.

I want to go Rome.

I want to go Rome.

I want to go Rome.

I don’t care I just went Rome less than 2 months ago.

I will gladly go again this time, as a Part II of my Moscow trip last year.

I will beg for leave(WOOHOO, I got one more day of off in lieu, which means I can take a decent week off should I scoot off), do anything(just not swear on my daughter’s life or anything that uses her name in vain -winks-) just to fly there in 3 weeks’ time.

This time I will prance around Rome, skip along the beautiful pavements, and leave marks of glee and giggles as I go around, slowly taking in the city again, and perhaps, recreating memories of what the city means to me.

And a trip to Venice and Florence, like finally.

Oh man. Oh man. Oh my. I can almost imagine how my trails will be made, the places I will walk to, the eateries I will sit down to enjoy my pizza(no carbonara!) and nice lemon tea(europe has lemon tea! Moscow and Rome! Praise the Lord!), and singing the swan song with the rest of the Red Devils’ fan.

If anyone, so kindly, so lovely, so magnificently has a spare ticket for me to watch Manchester United in Rome(I pai seh to ask the awesome Ming liao, and my other contact that might give me a glimpse of hope… is in London and I don’t have her contact and it is blardy complicated)…. I will love you very deep.

And I know, time to wake up from this perfect fantasy.

And oh, I don’t even need a damn visa for this!

I am just so spontaneous that, all I need, is a blardy ticket to get me in to the damn stadium.

Believe, baybeh, BELIEVE.

Our future

Someone sent me an email which brought tears to me.

About how she had walked away with the most brilliant husband who had loved her unconditionally when she was in doubt and how it ended up with a lovely marriage with 2 amazing children.

Suddenly, today, I saw my future, if I allow myself to see.

And it was so a beautiful picture that I could envision, and I actually cried when I closed my eyes and painted the scenario of Minibean, me and the amazing guy I would one day marry.

The man who will banter with me with witty remarks, who I will do my silly dance around, loves Minibean like his own, and one who is an open book of love and has a big…. heart.

I can think about the laughters we share as we watch Minibean grow, and she will be told how she is loved every single night, just after we took turns to tell her stories(we will even put up impromptu play to amuse her on her bad days) and kiss her forehead goodnight. We will have a couple of more kids so she wouldn’t grow up lonely. He will say funny jokes to crack me up as I push and heave(and highly likely cursing him and digging my nails into his hand) when I refuse epidural again for my next bundle of joy. We will be a strong family nuclei, supporting each other, and our kids through every step of their lives.

We will love each other’s quirks(he must fart louder than I do!) and complement each other, and most importantly, compromise, respect and communicate like it was our first day falling in love.

We will watch the world go back at the deep of the night, of passing traffic and dazzling lights as we talk about everything random as I lay in his arms on a lazy couch by the window/balcony when the kids are asleep.

The kids will jump onto the bed and wake us up to go for weekend trips, and calling us leaving voicemails in our phones to ask us to hurry back to spend time with them.

Daddy would send kids to school, we will kiss them as we drop them off, and head off to work. We will always put family first because no matter how much money we earn, the time spent with them will never be replenished.

There will be little notes he will find in his suitcase(or maybe kinky thongs) when he reached work after dropping me off at work with a kiss.

He will surprise me and the kids with sudden tickets to Disneyworld and we will explore overseas as an entourage, taking pictures with ice-cream stains on everyone’s face.

The little skips in our steps… the sudden piggyback of the kids and even Mummy on his back.

The first school concerts, the first falls from the bicycle(possibly at Ubin as we explore the island, getting them acquainted to nature’s beauty), when they panic as they lose their milk teeth, and how Minibean will be there as the big sister giving them love and assurance as she had been there done that with our help.

Every morning and every night will be one of sweet, genuine kisses of affections.

Our fears all laid bare.

We will sneak out for little dates with the kids over at grandparents, and he will love my parents, and my parents will love him dearly too.

We will sometimes join MY friends, because he will know how important they are to me, and they will love him anyway.

And I don’t need to have the biggest sparkle, but I will have the most beautiful proposal with my friends and family all part of it.

Okay, I selfish a bit, we will have a fabulous sex life. Hehehehe.

Daddy will help Mummy’s mind to grow and not to wither with hurt or mindfucking. Each other’s source of strength, source of love, and source of confidence.

We will have a “Do-one-new-thing-a-month” theme for the family, and we will try to keep to schedule(sometimes Daddy and Mummy will procrastinate, but…) as we try things like…. like.. like.. learning hiphop(and see Mummy fall), juggling, going to the musical, going to a play, make-your-own-cup pottery classes, going to the nursery(you know the one with flowers)…. so many things to do.

We will bake cake on some weekends, and all birthday cakes will be home-baked, a result after a few flour wars and I make the kids clean up(erm, that’s what kids are for right? Haha).

Daddy and Mummy will become art appreciators as they figure out the abstract drawings of the kids and sometimes tsk-tsking at them for not drawing Mummy to be slimmer and Daddy’s tummy to be smaller.

We give them hugs when they need some cuddles and stroke of hair, and Daddy will do that to Mummy too.

Our first drawing will be from Minibean of all 3 of us with heart shapes all around the drawing block, and the rest will replicate hers, just with more little stick people to represent the siblings.

We will be going to different volunteer organisations where they will grow up with a big heart like their Daddy with the willingness to help, and share the love(the right way hor) with those who needs help. They will learn to love and give fearlessly with no discrimination.

They will be pampered but not spoilt. The parents will spoil and pamper each other. Giggles.

Daddy and Mummy will sometimes have to look out for little sneaky tricks the kids gang up to make fun of us, and our main mission is to bust their little mischiefs.

And before we knew it, we watch Minibean and her siblings growing up a little rebellious but still with us as best friends as we deal with their teenagehood problems, me giving them silly remedies for pimples(squeeze them when they are raw!!)… and I will be glad I don’t have my boobs hanging at my waist cos I don’t have them to begin with(but he will appreciate them all the same hahaha)!

And then, they are all fine, young adults who maybe have their imperfections but greatly, deeply loved and blessed.

We will be wrinkly, and he will still tell me how beautiful I am, and I will tell him how his belly is very sexy.

There are so many, so many, more.

It isn’t even hard, though it sounds ideal.

Because the moment you find the man who truly loves you and you love dearly, the future is what you can make of.

And I saw it, if I allow myself the chance to feel that I deserve such person, and as long as I move on.

And I smiled to myself at this picture.

And the other snippets I didn’t manage to capture fast enough to blog down, as the list will go on and on and on and on and on and on…

Just like the love for the family I can see.

Of love, of dreams, of hope.

Making peace

I woke up yesterday feeling pretty good.

Gearing up for work, with a meeting to “introduce” myself, which means, it was finally a get-out-of-jeans day. Not forgetting how the night before, someone had joked he would want to see me in a skirt.

It made me feel good enough about myself, that.. I could smile at everything and anything that came my way.

Like, peace for the past couple of weeks, that knowing allowing myself to hide, is also a great way to protect myself.

And then, the decision hit me. No drama, not a threat, not anything.

I think, everyone should have the freedom to be happy, and if I am not the one who can give that happiness, maybe, it is time for me to let go.

I could feel the pain and the brokenness in that decision, but why hold on to something that is not entirely mine. I had a vision of how I want to be part of someone’s life, fit into it snugly, and it is always a bigger picture I would look at, for a narrow vision would bring all of us nowhere, no matter how hard we try sustaining it just base on a strange, unexplanable addiction.

I had planned to leave in May. But somehow, I should walk when I can find the strength within me to cope with it.

And then, I left.

***

The reaction was one of puzzled, and followed by the revelations of the plans he had for us for the day, for the evening.

I took all I can, to make it amiable, and peaceful.

What was expected was also the harshness when the ultimatum question was posed.

“So be it, u made the choice”

I smiled to myself and knew it was perhaps, right.

I went on smiling, talking, mingling and sipping orange juice… laughed along, bantered along.

I walked out feeling a little lost, a little empty, a little pained, and gritted my teeth.

Headed to the next location for my walkabout and just wanna lunch by myself without my colleagues, and took all I can to ignore the chain of unanswered calls, refusing myself the weakness to succumb.

What was unexpected, was…

“You’re messing me up, pls call me.”

Before I knew it, a message came in during lunchtime that he was at my office building.

I guess fate had it that I was not in.

And the mockery of reality was, I was actually at where he was, since my walkabout was nearby.

He looked, he searched.

“Tell me where are you or what happens next is on your head.”

I never found out what he meant, and he had asked me to turn up at the place we once had lunch. I hadn’t wanted to be found.

And then I realised how coolly I could have done it in the past couple of months, if I had allowed myself to.

And as if it was a twist of fate. I was actually at the place he said he would wait for me.

I couldn’t call for the bill in time to make my escape, and braced myself for an awkward meet up.

We sat in silence for the longest time.

“I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I still do want to marry you, you know that?”

I don’t, actually. Believing is not easy, and with whatever that happened, there are much more to iron than to just.. commit to something this major.

My hand was held tightly, and at that moment, when our eyes met, we knew for sure, it was the day of make or break. No drama, no mindfucking games going on, no… more hiding.

I have no more strength within me.

I couldn’t decide, perhaps I do think too much, dissect my pros and cons too much. And when the confidence seeps away, it is me I know I don’t believe in.

I mean, I don’t like to be a fighter, cos I don’t think I can ever win. I can never be enough. I would never want to assume I am special, cos I may not be.

Before long, he had to leave to settle some stuff.

“If I return and don’t see you here, I know your decision.”

I gave him the tightest hug I can muster and watched his back as he walked away.

I sat there, thinking to myself, for quite a while.

I stood up, and left. Just when the message came in “Gimme a while, hope to see you still there, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

I walked around, bumped into an ex-colleague who stopped to chat, I went to people-watch, did a bit of work…

And the consistent calls that came in, was starting to mess with me. I switched it off, and carried on walking.

Don’t look back, I told myself.

“I don’t want to lose you, I am here, you are in the bathroom right?”

“Why are you taking so long? Faster faster pleace come back to the table…”

I weighed. I struggled.

I thought of the conversation earlier.

The deal-breaker, was the admittance.

The iPOD. The meals. The phonecalls. What really, really happened in September and October. The mercy fucks in February till like, 2 weeks ago. When all along, still fucking me 3 to 4 times a week.

The irony. I don’t buy the guilt talk.

Neither do I buy the work talk.

And that I realise, I was being called immature and called names by a person who was lying.. All for uhm, nothing.

Great show.

In an attempt to lie, I don’t think it was her rights to call me names. Especially a person of such ‘pride’ and ‘integrity’. Classy. But knowing what we would do, who is there, or what is there to blame anyway? Are we just victims of circumstances, or sheer stupidity that we ended up compromising pride and credibility to others out there?

Whatever it is, what end is there?

“Whatever had happened in the past weeks, will not happen again.”

Why was it that we always have to wait till it was all hanging on a thread before… we could swallow our pride and admit to ourselves what we really want?

Are we running away enough? I don’t know.

I found myself strolling back to the table, and greeted by an embrace that was hard enough to choke. Or maybe it was the tears, or the words that never found their way out stuck at the back of my throat.

Peace can be made, and found.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Who knows, a day or two, or a week or two, we may be slapping ourselves across the faces again for a wrong decision made, but, moments, especially moments like this, are what I relish in.

Resignation. This is what it is.

Though this word could always go both ways.

It is good to dream again, however brief.

Unbeautifool

Don’t hang up
Can we talk
So confused
It’s like I’m lost
What went wrong
What made you go
Don’t pretend you don’t know
This is me
I’m unchangeable

When did we
Fall apart
Or did you lie
From the start
When you said
It’s only you
I was blind
Such a fool
Thinking we
We’re unbreakable

It was you and me against the world
And you promised me forever more
Was it something that I said
was it something that I did
Cuz I gotta know
What made me unbeautiful

I’ve been told
Whats done is done
To let it go
And carry on
And deep inside
I know that’s true
I’m stuck in time
I’m stuck on you
We were still untouchable

It was you and me against the world
And you promised me forever more
Was it something that I said
Was it something that I did
Cuz I gotta know
What made me unbeautiful

Wake up, wake up, wake up
Cuz I’m only dreaming
Get out, get out, get out, get out
Get out of my head now

Because we’re much better
All together
Can’t let go

It was you and me against the world
And you promised me forever more
Was it something that I said
Was it something that I did
Cuz I gotta know
What made me unbeautiful

Impossibly restless

I fell into a nap at 7.30pm last night, and woke up only at 11pm.

Which translate into the fact that I didn’t manage to fall asleep till 4am.

And I think with the state of confusion I am perpetually in a state in, I have dwell deeper into life and its issues all the more these days.

I was talking to a friend who got married. I was talking to another friend who dumped a friend.

And it was funny as I thought back of many people just couple of days ago. People who came and went. People who might not even remember me as part of their lives before.. and I chewed on the memories they left me with.

Wifey told me I am soft, which pretty much explains and describes(Wifey! You are like the kkjs in your life, exclaims Effy) the men in my life physically(ROOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!), and the reason behind the fickle-mindedness of when to chuck someone outta my life.

When do you chuck someone out? When you realise the hippo crispy KFC is too lardy to force down your throat?

Okay, hypocrisy(nb, I keep typing hypocrispy), I meant.

Or when your friends become too dodgy for you to share your lives with?

Or when the passion runs out and the love runs dry.. even towards your family, and closest friends?

Or when the mutual trusts between people closest to you dwindle to bare nothing?

And then I realise what is my problem.

I am “quite” principled. Okay, don’t get started on double standard and all, but sometimes the crux of the matter is often the principle behind each issue, rather than the episode. It is hard to explain. It is either you get it, or you don’t.

It is like you don’t like a person because he is cold to a needy, helpless elderly, it is not that he didn’t help, but it is because he is just essentially inconsiderate. You know what I mean?

So with the principles, the fatal mistake is, I seldom listen to warnings.

As much as I am a pessimist, there is this strange, queer little optimist in me, who still wants to believe.

The reason behind, is probably like what Oscar Wilde had said “The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror.”

Upon dissection, I love too easily, yet I am always in love with the people(sorry, I don’t love the men I in relationship with, yet I love and adore friends as much I am brilliant in losing them) whom insecure people shouldn’t.

I could be honest and upfront, yet at the same time, I can’t bother to be upfront.

And when it is time to be upfront, that is when tolerance bleeds dry, and it will be words of goodbye, and not words of remedy.

At the end of it, what difference would it make if I had been more emotionless and cut off from the beginning.

Some people can cut off, I find it hard within me to do so.

Anyway.

Having said that, there is no point in this post except for the fact I am terribly restless.

I can’t concentrate without thinking of 101 things in my mind.

Yet the only safe thing I can find within myself to do these days are safe, indoor, cosy mahjong.

Where I could just wallow in my world, and not feel threatened and scared.

I need my moments of madness, and boy, do I have some in mind.

I am jaded enough to want to get married. To get over and done with, to….. just… I don’t know.

I mean, there is nothing such as perfection, so why bother to be deluded into thinking there is, ended up being grossly disappointed and have a huge part of your esteem chip off you?

Why do we go through the same routine everytime to realise they are all essentially the same?

I think my mind needs to rest or else I will thinking of 1001 things and still no closer to the answers I need for them all.