When I'm alone, I like to watch romantic movies. Perhaps I do it because it takes away the loneliness. Or perhaps it's because that's when they work best.
When I was younger and used to spend a lot of time with my aunt (some 10 years ago before she got married), I used to wonder why she was 30 and still single. There were some quite obvious reasons, she has a sharp tongue and she's a fussy woman, but I decided it was because she'd indoctrined herself to have stupidly high standards and also to look for something that didn't happen.
She used to read a lot of Mills and Boon books. She had boxes of them, a standing order in fact. She'd lend them to me, and I wondered if she wasn't waiting for this dream guy to come and sweep her off her feet in real life. I understood perfectly well why she liked them. Despite their formulaic nature, they are almost like a sugar rush - the agonising wait for the protagonists to finally come to their senses and admit their undying love for each other. And then it does, and it's happily ever after and you can convince your aching heart that love really must exist in the world and that one day, it will happen to you.
These days I am a lot more cynical. I look at my uncle, the last person in my family to get married. Having had been (sort-of) heartbroken by a girl my age a couple of years ago, he gave in to the pressure of my grandparents and his own laziness to meeting women the conventional way, and married a girl 14 years his junior. They were introduced to each by family, matchmaking meddlers who had his best intentions at heart I guess. Yeah sure, he is now 34 and married, with a gorgeous little baby girl conceived a month into their marriage. Do I think they love each other? Hell no.
Do I believe that they will? Yeah probably. It's possible for love to develop over time, and in his case, even if it goes a bit wrong - she is unlikely to leave. My uncle is financially sound and will ensure her a very comfortable life. So what if she's barely 20?
I feel sorry for her though - to be married so soon without even having lived and loved properly. To have experienced the joy and pain of wanting to be with someone so badly and deeply. To think about them almost every waking moment of the day, and to drift off to sleep with them in your thoughts. To spend time with someone and relive those moments over and over when you are apart. To be constantly checking your phone or email for some sort of word from them and the feeling of elation when there is.
In the last few days I have wondered if that'll be the reason why I'll never be happy in my life. This need to feel touched, moved by love. That aching feeling inside my chest that makes breathing almost difficult. Is it possible to sustain this in a relationship?
I just finished watching a movie that made me both laugh and cry. It was a romance, and a comedy, and a bit of a drama. It's called My Sassy Girl Strangely, it was a guy who recommended it to me - a korean guy - presumably because he totally fancied the girl who plays the main character in it. It did fantastically well in both Korea and Hong Kong in 2001. And in fact, Dreamworks is in the process of remaking it.
It's a wonderful film that I was very touched by. So much so that I spent the latter half in tears - and some of that was from happiness. It's not often a movie can do that. I'm sitting here now listening to a beautiful variation of the Pachelbel's Canon in D by George Winston that was featured in the film. I'd love to be able to get the sheet music and learn to play it. This piece will probably always remind me of the film now.
I feel very lucky. I have the choice and the free will to be able to live my life the way that I think it should be lived. This year I chose to break up a four year relationship against the advice of some. My mum told me that women have to make sacrifices. That if you can find someone who loves you, it should be enough. My ex told me that if we broke up the life that I knew would fall apart. That I was giving everything up on a whim. A sensible compassionate voice in my head told me that I shouldn't watch so many romantic movies. But I couldn't ignore the ache in my heart. I believe in love. I can't help myself. If you can't be with someone who fills that gap - then why bother?
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Merry Xmas
It's 2am. I've just left the kitchen.
Tomorrow, there will be 32 of us sitting down to dinner. We will be having shabu shabu, turkey, and god knows what else. Since 6pm this evening, I have been in the kitchen preparing food, salad, kneading dough and cooking. I'm exhausted and I haven't even finished. Tomorrow morning, we will have to get up early in order to be able to get the 2 turkeys into the oven by 9am. God help me. Next year I'm making sure that I am out of the country for Christmas. This isn't worth it.
Tomorrow, there will be 32 of us sitting down to dinner. We will be having shabu shabu, turkey, and god knows what else. Since 6pm this evening, I have been in the kitchen preparing food, salad, kneading dough and cooking. I'm exhausted and I haven't even finished. Tomorrow morning, we will have to get up early in order to be able to get the 2 turkeys into the oven by 9am. God help me. Next year I'm making sure that I am out of the country for Christmas. This isn't worth it.
Monday, December 19, 2005
chopstix
I never realised how hard it is to play the piano when you're slightly drunk.
Totally failed to go shopping after work today when I got summoned by a colleague who had started his Xmas holidays early. Having gone for Christmas lunch at 12pm, by 6pm he was still in the same pub only moved downstairs and all his drinking buddies had deserted him. Good judgement having deserted me momentarily, I went to join him and nearly 3 hours later I emerge to run home late for dinner with my parents. My parents luckily didn't even notice my slight drunkenness.
Usually I don't venture near my piano unless I'm feeling a bit depressed. But after stuffing my face at the dinner table I had this whimsical notion to play a few tunes on my poor piano :) I didn't embarrass myself too much :)))
I'm sitting now at my pc in my room. Still feeling drunk. There is a conversation going on on my doorstep about planning permission. Outside my room there is a game of boules going on. I'm ignoring everything except Royksopp filtering out of my stereo. And for once, I feel happy :)
Totally failed to go shopping after work today when I got summoned by a colleague who had started his Xmas holidays early. Having gone for Christmas lunch at 12pm, by 6pm he was still in the same pub only moved downstairs and all his drinking buddies had deserted him. Good judgement having deserted me momentarily, I went to join him and nearly 3 hours later I emerge to run home late for dinner with my parents. My parents luckily didn't even notice my slight drunkenness.
Usually I don't venture near my piano unless I'm feeling a bit depressed. But after stuffing my face at the dinner table I had this whimsical notion to play a few tunes on my poor piano :) I didn't embarrass myself too much :)))
I'm sitting now at my pc in my room. Still feeling drunk. There is a conversation going on on my doorstep about planning permission. Outside my room there is a game of boules going on. I'm ignoring everything except Royksopp filtering out of my stereo. And for once, I feel happy :)
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
all other things bright and beautiful
I'm going to Sweden in January. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm going to be staying at the Ice Hotel which is built out of ice. It's going to be so beautiful.
Sometimes I think that my preoccupation with beauty comes from my firm belief that I have none. I worry that inside I am this black piece of coal. Inanimate and cold. The edges are white from where I have tried to stoke it. What use is a lump of dead coal?
I find it ironic that I have devoted half my life to trying to make people around me happy, but in actual fact what I seem to end up doing is making them unhappy.
On the outside I feel like a sponge. I soak up all the criticism and assumptions that people make about me. I don't try to wring it out and in the end it overflows.
Sometimes I try and think about what I consider to be my good points. I think that I'm a compassionate and caring person. I think that I am generous and considerate. So why is it that people accuse me of being selfish and cold?
Once, a friend of mine shouted at me in the street. He told me I was selfish, in front of everyone else I knew. I wanted to go in a different direction to him.
I didn't talk to him for six months. Is it because I hold grudges? No.
I don't think he ever did, nor will he ever understand why I ignored him. I will never mention it again. People who know me, know how easygoing I am. I am open-minded and reasonable. I try never to make blind judgements and I am pretty difficult to offend. But it's not impossible. It offends me when people make assumptions about me and why I do and say things. He had no idea what I was really like. The kind of person I really am. The self-sacrificing girl inside of me. The girl who is desperate for acceptance and recognition. So to me, for a person to call me selfish is someone who doesn't know me. And has just assumed that quality about me. It hurt me, to have that thrown in my face in public.
I know someone who would probably argue, saying that it's normal for people to form judgements and that I was probably giving the impression that I was being spoilt. Therefore it's perfectly acceptable for someone to assume that I was, if I didn't prove otherwise. I guess I don't work that way. I know that I should have my own reasons for the things that I do, and I believe that people should respect that - just like I respect that other people have their own personal reasons for their actions. It's not always obvious or black and white.
On days like this I feel alone. Surrounded by people I care about yet I feel like I might as well be on a different planet. That I'm a mere shadow - forgotten as easily as yesterdays sunset. Just like my tears. Tomorrow I will look back and think how silly I was to sit for so long in my depression. I'm trapped in a cage of my own making. My mind is a blur of thoughts - so scattered that I can barely formulate them into coherent sentences. And then it is empty - devoid of all emotion.
Some things are simple. Easy to understand and appreciate. That's what I know I will love about the Ice Hotel and my adventure there. Some things are just beautiful. It won't last forever but it doesn't matter because people will remember it forever.
Sometimes I think that my preoccupation with beauty comes from my firm belief that I have none. I worry that inside I am this black piece of coal. Inanimate and cold. The edges are white from where I have tried to stoke it. What use is a lump of dead coal?
I find it ironic that I have devoted half my life to trying to make people around me happy, but in actual fact what I seem to end up doing is making them unhappy.
On the outside I feel like a sponge. I soak up all the criticism and assumptions that people make about me. I don't try to wring it out and in the end it overflows.
Sometimes I try and think about what I consider to be my good points. I think that I'm a compassionate and caring person. I think that I am generous and considerate. So why is it that people accuse me of being selfish and cold?
Once, a friend of mine shouted at me in the street. He told me I was selfish, in front of everyone else I knew. I wanted to go in a different direction to him.
I didn't talk to him for six months. Is it because I hold grudges? No.
I don't think he ever did, nor will he ever understand why I ignored him. I will never mention it again. People who know me, know how easygoing I am. I am open-minded and reasonable. I try never to make blind judgements and I am pretty difficult to offend. But it's not impossible. It offends me when people make assumptions about me and why I do and say things. He had no idea what I was really like. The kind of person I really am. The self-sacrificing girl inside of me. The girl who is desperate for acceptance and recognition. So to me, for a person to call me selfish is someone who doesn't know me. And has just assumed that quality about me. It hurt me, to have that thrown in my face in public.
I know someone who would probably argue, saying that it's normal for people to form judgements and that I was probably giving the impression that I was being spoilt. Therefore it's perfectly acceptable for someone to assume that I was, if I didn't prove otherwise. I guess I don't work that way. I know that I should have my own reasons for the things that I do, and I believe that people should respect that - just like I respect that other people have their own personal reasons for their actions. It's not always obvious or black and white.
On days like this I feel alone. Surrounded by people I care about yet I feel like I might as well be on a different planet. That I'm a mere shadow - forgotten as easily as yesterdays sunset. Just like my tears. Tomorrow I will look back and think how silly I was to sit for so long in my depression. I'm trapped in a cage of my own making. My mind is a blur of thoughts - so scattered that I can barely formulate them into coherent sentences. And then it is empty - devoid of all emotion.
Some things are simple. Easy to understand and appreciate. That's what I know I will love about the Ice Hotel and my adventure there. Some things are just beautiful. It won't last forever but it doesn't matter because people will remember it forever.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Tick tock
I'm sitting at my desk after a night out. It's not late - far too sensible for that these days. Good thing too, as I have a 10am meeting tomorrow morning.
I'm listening to a preview of Madonna's new album. It's great - I must remember to buy it. She is such an inspiration to me. She seems like a totally focussed lady, and I could do to learn from that. I've been sitting idly thinking about my own life, and how I seem to cruise along. I'm not convinced that's the best thing to do. I mean, I have great faith in my instincts, and it's worked for me so far. But I think that time is running out a little and I need to work out what I want from life. Whether it's about careers or relationships, I really think that I've had long enough of just 'trying' things out.
Sometimes I stop and think, shit, at my age (26) my parents had already had me. I was nearly 5 when my mum was 26. I am nowhere near marriage or children. I'm not even convinced that I've found my career in life. It's all very well being a developer and seeming to do very well at it but I'm sure that I wasn't meant for this job. I hate it for a start :)
I keep having these dreams about elephants. In the 3 weeks I've been back from Thailand I've had four dreams about elephants. And every time they are baby ones. My friends have just told me that it means that my biological clock is ticking and that the dreams are overt reminders. This worries me even more :) Whatever can it mean??? Everywhere around me I am getting weird pregnancy omens. Documentaries I watch, movies I see, friends and colleagues. Even tonight, one of my friends announced she was 3 months pregnant. Eek!
I'm listening to a preview of Madonna's new album. It's great - I must remember to buy it. She is such an inspiration to me. She seems like a totally focussed lady, and I could do to learn from that. I've been sitting idly thinking about my own life, and how I seem to cruise along. I'm not convinced that's the best thing to do. I mean, I have great faith in my instincts, and it's worked for me so far. But I think that time is running out a little and I need to work out what I want from life. Whether it's about careers or relationships, I really think that I've had long enough of just 'trying' things out.
Sometimes I stop and think, shit, at my age (26) my parents had already had me. I was nearly 5 when my mum was 26. I am nowhere near marriage or children. I'm not even convinced that I've found my career in life. It's all very well being a developer and seeming to do very well at it but I'm sure that I wasn't meant for this job. I hate it for a start :)
I keep having these dreams about elephants. In the 3 weeks I've been back from Thailand I've had four dreams about elephants. And every time they are baby ones. My friends have just told me that it means that my biological clock is ticking and that the dreams are overt reminders. This worries me even more :) Whatever can it mean??? Everywhere around me I am getting weird pregnancy omens. Documentaries I watch, movies I see, friends and colleagues. Even tonight, one of my friends announced she was 3 months pregnant. Eek!
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Farewell Thailand
This is it. The end of my two week adventure to tropical Thailand. Today has just been about whiling away the hours until my flight back to London. It's Saturday and this means the big weekend market in Bangkok. And big is truly an understatement - it is easily the biggest market I have ever seen in my life. You can buy everything here, from religious knicknacks to fighting cockerels. All manner of junk. Used clothes, new clothes, plastic fruit, works of art, stuffed insects, herbs and spices, everything has it's own section and it's a nightmare to try and work out where you are and where you need to go. Amidst the crowd and the heat, I did the cowardly thing and opted to escape to the air-conditioned haven of the shopping malls instead.
I have to be honest and say that there isn't much about Bangkok that I really nice. It's loud and busy and noisy. The traffic is horrendous and if you want to explore the west side of the river - good luck to you. On the east there is some semblance of decent transportation but the traffic is just as bad. I'm actually glad to be leaving.
So it's goodbye to the warm weather and cheap food. But on a plus note it's also goodbye to mosquitoes, overly hot weather (3 showers a day), overcrowding and being constantly mistaken for being a native. Oh yes, and not forgetting the most important thing - real milk. The first thing I want to do when I get home is to put the kettle on and make a decent cup of tea. Thailand has awful milk. I have no idea what it is, but it smells like that awful carton UHT stuff and it makes a bloody disgusting cup of tea. Bring out those Tetley teabags...
I have to be honest and say that there isn't much about Bangkok that I really nice. It's loud and busy and noisy. The traffic is horrendous and if you want to explore the west side of the river - good luck to you. On the east there is some semblance of decent transportation but the traffic is just as bad. I'm actually glad to be leaving.
So it's goodbye to the warm weather and cheap food. But on a plus note it's also goodbye to mosquitoes, overly hot weather (3 showers a day), overcrowding and being constantly mistaken for being a native. Oh yes, and not forgetting the most important thing - real milk. The first thing I want to do when I get home is to put the kettle on and make a decent cup of tea. Thailand has awful milk. I have no idea what it is, but it smells like that awful carton UHT stuff and it makes a bloody disgusting cup of tea. Bring out those Tetley teabags...
Thursday, November 17, 2005
beach bunny
It's been a long old week so far. Since Monday I have trekked for some 4 hours up a mountain, scaled rocks and waded through streams, crawled around in caves and spent the night in a north tribe village somewhere up a mountain. It was the most intense and gruelling experience I have ever had - and it was amazing. Exhausting but amazing.
Today I am in beautiful Koh Samui. I flew in last night to the only airport I have ever seen that is, simply a glorified hut. It's a constant 30 degrees here, and very relaxing. All I have to worry about is topping up the suntan lotion, and where to eat. The water is clear and blue and the sand is soft as it should be. Today we hired a moped and explored some of the island - not the most successful trip ever - I nearly hurt myself trying to get to a waterfall (accessing the tourist attractions here is almost an extreme sport in itself) and fed a couple of mosquitoes for my trouble. Oh well.
Tomorrow I return to Bangkok. Hopefully I will see more of it this time. My adventure is almost over :( It's a shame but I'm happy to leave Thailand on a high. It's been the most amazing experience for me in all sorts of ways. But more on that when I get home :) Off to sample a little nightlife now - koh samui style...
Today I am in beautiful Koh Samui. I flew in last night to the only airport I have ever seen that is, simply a glorified hut. It's a constant 30 degrees here, and very relaxing. All I have to worry about is topping up the suntan lotion, and where to eat. The water is clear and blue and the sand is soft as it should be. Today we hired a moped and explored some of the island - not the most successful trip ever - I nearly hurt myself trying to get to a waterfall (accessing the tourist attractions here is almost an extreme sport in itself) and fed a couple of mosquitoes for my trouble. Oh well.
Tomorrow I return to Bangkok. Hopefully I will see more of it this time. My adventure is almost over :( It's a shame but I'm happy to leave Thailand on a high. It's been the most amazing experience for me in all sorts of ways. But more on that when I get home :) Off to sample a little nightlife now - koh samui style...
Friday, November 11, 2005
ken hom eat your heart out!
I can't believe that it's Friday already! For me, it's just under an hour until Saturday now. I have had 2 thai cooking classes and now an expert at making:
- phad thai
- thai green chicken curry
- roast duck red curry
- chicken in pandan leaves
The cooking classes have been really good fun. Yesterday was a little bit intimidating, mainly because I didn't really know what to expect. I got picked up, taken to the city office for registration and then we were all driven to Sompon's school which is 25 minutes drive outside the city. We all strapped on our beautiful aprons and got started on some vegetable carving. It's much harder than it looks :)
The general format of the day is as follows:
- sit in classroom
- watch chef explain ingredients and cook dish
- go to workstation and cook dish
- eat own dish
For some reason, the last couple of days I have suffered from severely poor short term memory and as soon as I got back to my workstation couldn't quite remember the order of action. Which veg to chop first, which ones to finely chop and then what order they went into the pan. Luckily, Sompon's lovely ladies and slightly camp guy were on hand to shout out instructions and give us all a helping hand. No one set themselves on fire and no one really messed up :) Well, no one would know anyway as everyone ate their own food...
Today, Sompon himself taught us how to make pad thai and thai green curry. He was a very good teacher and of course, there was much cameraderie in the classroom. The only problem that I have with these classes is that there is far too much eating involved. Every day there is one soup to start, some sort of appetizer, 2 main courses and a dessert. This morning I made sure not to eat any breakfast just so that I wouldn't feel quite as stuffed as I felt yesterday. It didn't really help...
After the cooking class, I arranged to meet up later with 2 of my classmates for a beer and then to check out the deep fried insects. I wasn't entirely convinced that I wanted to try any, but I wanted to be there when they did :)
I will have to post some pictures when I get back to London, it was really quite revolting watching them eat. I could see them concentrating hard not to think about what they were eating. In the end, I tried one thing - some sort of worm that looked like an oversize maggot. It didn't taste of much really, it was just really crispy. After that, I refused to try the others. This little vendor had crickets and this really really disgusting water beetle that was huge. One of the guys had this and said that apparently it was ok. Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. He can take all the street cred for trying it. We all went on to this amazing teak house restaurant afterwards to eat some real food which was pretty fantastic. With beer and cocktails, we ended up spending 300 baht each, a small fortune by Thai standards I guess but in GBP it works out to be less than a fiver. Not exactly breaking the bank.
Tomorrow is my final cooking class. Not sure what I'll be cooking up - but I'm sure it will be good and it will be easy. Thai cooking is fantastic - all the work is in the preparation. After that, it's all just chucking all the ingredients into the pan and cooking for 5 minutes. I love it!
Sunday I will probably be going to Doi Suthep (mountain with temple on) and then it's off for a two day trek in the wilds of northern thailand.
- phad thai
- thai green chicken curry
- roast duck red curry
- chicken in pandan leaves
The cooking classes have been really good fun. Yesterday was a little bit intimidating, mainly because I didn't really know what to expect. I got picked up, taken to the city office for registration and then we were all driven to Sompon's school which is 25 minutes drive outside the city. We all strapped on our beautiful aprons and got started on some vegetable carving. It's much harder than it looks :)
The general format of the day is as follows:
- sit in classroom
- watch chef explain ingredients and cook dish
- go to workstation and cook dish
- eat own dish
For some reason, the last couple of days I have suffered from severely poor short term memory and as soon as I got back to my workstation couldn't quite remember the order of action. Which veg to chop first, which ones to finely chop and then what order they went into the pan. Luckily, Sompon's lovely ladies and slightly camp guy were on hand to shout out instructions and give us all a helping hand. No one set themselves on fire and no one really messed up :) Well, no one would know anyway as everyone ate their own food...
Today, Sompon himself taught us how to make pad thai and thai green curry. He was a very good teacher and of course, there was much cameraderie in the classroom. The only problem that I have with these classes is that there is far too much eating involved. Every day there is one soup to start, some sort of appetizer, 2 main courses and a dessert. This morning I made sure not to eat any breakfast just so that I wouldn't feel quite as stuffed as I felt yesterday. It didn't really help...
After the cooking class, I arranged to meet up later with 2 of my classmates for a beer and then to check out the deep fried insects. I wasn't entirely convinced that I wanted to try any, but I wanted to be there when they did :)
I will have to post some pictures when I get back to London, it was really quite revolting watching them eat. I could see them concentrating hard not to think about what they were eating. In the end, I tried one thing - some sort of worm that looked like an oversize maggot. It didn't taste of much really, it was just really crispy. After that, I refused to try the others. This little vendor had crickets and this really really disgusting water beetle that was huge. One of the guys had this and said that apparently it was ok. Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. He can take all the street cred for trying it. We all went on to this amazing teak house restaurant afterwards to eat some real food which was pretty fantastic. With beer and cocktails, we ended up spending 300 baht each, a small fortune by Thai standards I guess but in GBP it works out to be less than a fiver. Not exactly breaking the bank.
Tomorrow is my final cooking class. Not sure what I'll be cooking up - but I'm sure it will be good and it will be easy. Thai cooking is fantastic - all the work is in the preparation. After that, it's all just chucking all the ingredients into the pan and cooking for 5 minutes. I love it!
Sunday I will probably be going to Doi Suthep (mountain with temple on) and then it's off for a two day trek in the wilds of northern thailand.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Bring on the curried fishballs
It's my second day in Thailand. I'm currently sitting in a little internet cafe outside the night market in Chiang Mai. It's nearly 10pm and pretty busy already.
It's a totally different world in Thailand, although I don't feel so much of a culture shock. Presumably this is due to the fact that in many ways, Thailand reminds me of Hong Kong.
The one thing I can't get used to is the totally incomprehensible language. It's a given that I won't understand what people are saying, but the indecipherable squiggles of the written language has me totally perplexed. I guess that's what it must be like for westerners and the chinese language. There is absolutely no guessing what anything says.
I am all templed out today. It doesn't take that much (reminds me of Kyoto). Chiang Mai supposedly has some 300 temples. I went to 3 today and that's enough for me already. They are all very similar - each with their own buddhas made from a different material or in a different pose. Besides, I don't really have time until Sunday as I now have 3 days worth of cooking class :) Ken Hom watch out!!
Need to move on and eat now. I am desperate to try some curried fishballs...
It's a totally different world in Thailand, although I don't feel so much of a culture shock. Presumably this is due to the fact that in many ways, Thailand reminds me of Hong Kong.
The one thing I can't get used to is the totally incomprehensible language. It's a given that I won't understand what people are saying, but the indecipherable squiggles of the written language has me totally perplexed. I guess that's what it must be like for westerners and the chinese language. There is absolutely no guessing what anything says.
I am all templed out today. It doesn't take that much (reminds me of Kyoto). Chiang Mai supposedly has some 300 temples. I went to 3 today and that's enough for me already. They are all very similar - each with their own buddhas made from a different material or in a different pose. Besides, I don't really have time until Sunday as I now have 3 days worth of cooking class :) Ken Hom watch out!!
Need to move on and eat now. I am desperate to try some curried fishballs...
Monday, November 07, 2005
From London with Love
Today is the day! It's just before 7.30 and I am pretty much ready to set off on my first journey across half the world by myself. It's a pretty scary thought though I am definitely looking forward to it.
It's been a pretty busy time for me as usual. A private chat with a colleague at work snowballed to what may be an important turning point in my career. Or perhaps not, but it signifies a big change in the days ahead.
My last thoughts before I go? I hope that in Thailand, I find something new. Something beautiful and everlasting memories. And if not, I hope that I at least find adventure :)
So, next stop, Bangkok. Till then, ja mata.
It's been a pretty busy time for me as usual. A private chat with a colleague at work snowballed to what may be an important turning point in my career. Or perhaps not, but it signifies a big change in the days ahead.
My last thoughts before I go? I hope that in Thailand, I find something new. Something beautiful and everlasting memories. And if not, I hope that I at least find adventure :)
So, next stop, Bangkok. Till then, ja mata.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
postscript
When I was in Budapest earlier this year, we visited (it's almost compulsory) the thermal baths. At this particular one we went to, there were some outdoor pools and one of them had a sort of river rapid merry-go-round. Once you joined it, you were swept around with the force of the water and it was hard to leave. When you finally come off, laughing from the exhilaration of it all, you stop and watch the people who are still caught in the current.
Days like this remind me of that. My life is a blur of activity, of allowing myself to be caught in the rush of living. Then finally I step back for a while, and contemplate the place where I have ended up.
Where am I now? My days seem to be an endless array of work, drinks, impromptu culture injections and holidays booked on a whim. I can barely take stock of what I'm really doing, what I really want and where I'm going with it all. I console myself that with all the stuff going on in my personal life, it's ok to take things easy for a while. To enjoy myself. A little voice tells me that it's just an excuse to not have to make any real decisions. I believe that voice.
Days like this remind me of that. My life is a blur of activity, of allowing myself to be caught in the rush of living. Then finally I step back for a while, and contemplate the place where I have ended up.
Where am I now? My days seem to be an endless array of work, drinks, impromptu culture injections and holidays booked on a whim. I can barely take stock of what I'm really doing, what I really want and where I'm going with it all. I console myself that with all the stuff going on in my personal life, it's ok to take things easy for a while. To enjoy myself. A little voice tells me that it's just an excuse to not have to make any real decisions. I believe that voice.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
the sweet sound of silence
Sometimes I wonder if I try too hard to be something that I'm not. All my life I've thought that I had the potential to do something special, to achieve something that I can look back one day and feel proud.
I have high expectations of myself. It's why I find it impossible to take criticism. It's not that I think I'm always right, but the exact opposite. The fear and sadness that it's all true. That I'm destined to be inconsequential because I was never meant to be more. That no matter hard I try, it'll never be good enough.
I have a bit of an inferiority complex. I guess it probably goes back to my childhood. I studied hard and did everything that I thought an obedient chinese girl should do. I stayed home and babysat my brother, got good grades, helped out with the family business when I was old enough. I didn't complain and didn't expect any more than that.
I remember one night, I was working at my parents restaurant. I was helping with the washing up in the kitchen. My mum wanted me to wash up in the bar as we were busy but I was reluctant because I was embarrassed to be in view of the customers. My mum was strssed out because it was busy and her staff were being exceptionally inefficient. I was the unlucky scapegoat who got told off. She shouted at me for not helping out in the bar and told me that I shouldn't worry about the customers looking at me as I was too unattractive for them to bother about. She'll probably never remember this but I've never forgotten. Whatever anyone else might think, I don't hold it against her. That's not the reason why I've never forgotten. I just have a habit of taking things to heart and not saying anything. I guess I'm just a true follower of suffering in silence. The tragic thing is that I believed her, and I probably still do, deep down inside. My insecurity gnaws at me and I find myself giving up on myself even when no one else has.
When I was little and in junior school, I was known as the mute girl because I didn't speak. It wasn't as if I couldn't or didn't understand the language. Quite the contrary. I probably had a better grasp of the language than most of the other kids. I just didn't want to talk. My mind remained active yet my lips remained shut. At home I was fine. This didn't change until I hit 11. I realised that I was about to start secondary school and that if I didn't do something drastic, I would remain the mute girl for the whole of my life. So I did. I started talking.
Some 15 years on, I still face the same determination that I did then. That I have to change the way that I am, the way that I feel comfortable to be able to integrate with the world around me. I'm a little tired from the effort. I wish I could be me.
I have high expectations of myself. It's why I find it impossible to take criticism. It's not that I think I'm always right, but the exact opposite. The fear and sadness that it's all true. That I'm destined to be inconsequential because I was never meant to be more. That no matter hard I try, it'll never be good enough.
I have a bit of an inferiority complex. I guess it probably goes back to my childhood. I studied hard and did everything that I thought an obedient chinese girl should do. I stayed home and babysat my brother, got good grades, helped out with the family business when I was old enough. I didn't complain and didn't expect any more than that.
I remember one night, I was working at my parents restaurant. I was helping with the washing up in the kitchen. My mum wanted me to wash up in the bar as we were busy but I was reluctant because I was embarrassed to be in view of the customers. My mum was strssed out because it was busy and her staff were being exceptionally inefficient. I was the unlucky scapegoat who got told off. She shouted at me for not helping out in the bar and told me that I shouldn't worry about the customers looking at me as I was too unattractive for them to bother about. She'll probably never remember this but I've never forgotten. Whatever anyone else might think, I don't hold it against her. That's not the reason why I've never forgotten. I just have a habit of taking things to heart and not saying anything. I guess I'm just a true follower of suffering in silence. The tragic thing is that I believed her, and I probably still do, deep down inside. My insecurity gnaws at me and I find myself giving up on myself even when no one else has.
When I was little and in junior school, I was known as the mute girl because I didn't speak. It wasn't as if I couldn't or didn't understand the language. Quite the contrary. I probably had a better grasp of the language than most of the other kids. I just didn't want to talk. My mind remained active yet my lips remained shut. At home I was fine. This didn't change until I hit 11. I realised that I was about to start secondary school and that if I didn't do something drastic, I would remain the mute girl for the whole of my life. So I did. I started talking.
Some 15 years on, I still face the same determination that I did then. That I have to change the way that I am, the way that I feel comfortable to be able to integrate with the world around me. I'm a little tired from the effort. I wish I could be me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
I dream of Tiffany
I wonder if I was a magpie in my past life. Sitting here entranced by the shiny silver and diamonds on the Tiffany & Co website. Everything is so beautiful. If only everything could retain it's lustre and brilliance for always.
What is it about jewellery I wonder. The need to adorn ourselves with beautiful or unusual objects. Is it like the way that peacocks spread their feathers? In a ritual to attract mating partners? Or perhaps an attempt to boost our self-confidence? Diamonds are beautiful forever, not fragile and ephemeral like human beauty. I wonder if one day when I am old and wrinkled I will still crave those diamonds. When they will just be a reminder of my faded youth.
I wonder.
What is it about jewellery I wonder. The need to adorn ourselves with beautiful or unusual objects. Is it like the way that peacocks spread their feathers? In a ritual to attract mating partners? Or perhaps an attempt to boost our self-confidence? Diamonds are beautiful forever, not fragile and ephemeral like human beauty. I wonder if one day when I am old and wrinkled I will still crave those diamonds. When they will just be a reminder of my faded youth.
I wonder.
Monday, October 17, 2005
The Big Day
I did it!!
As the day of my 10k run loomed ever closer, I started having doubts as to whether I'd be able to make it. I totally failed to do any running at all last week, and by Friday, I'd lost all enthusiasm for it. Worst case scenario, I'd have to walk it, I thought.
Sunday morning, 8am I had to get up. I had to be at Victoria Park for 10am, 30 minutes before my wave started. I felt fine as I had some cereal and some juice to keep my strength up. However, by the time I got to the bus the nervousness and apprehension kicked in. I didn't want to let myself down. I felt bad for not having done any training during the week, even though I had taken Wednesday off work for that very purpose. Having set myself my first physical challenge, was I going to fail? Sitting on the bus going to the park, I sat quietly thinking. It was too late to change my mind about the run. I'd dragged my boyfriend early out of bed to support me, I'd made him run with me on Sundays that could have been better spent relaxing, I'd paid the fee and put in the time training myself. It was all just a matter of forming a strategy. Mind over matter, girl. I was fairly certain I was fit enough to make it.
When I got to the park, the first wave was already on their way round, presumably on their second lap. I watched them, faces set in concentration, a small army of red Nike shirts and black shorts. Wow, these guys are taking it seriously I thought.
As I approached the starting point, I could suddenly see a gigantic crowd of people in red. This must be the rest of my wave, I thought. I had no more time to worry. A voice came on over the tannoy asking wave 2 runners to go to the starting pen. I had just about enough time for a power pee before joining the rest of the crowd. I felt a sudden rush of energy and excitement. This was it! I'd waited some six weeks for this. I stared out through the railings at the spectators as I did a few stretches and waited for the gun to fire. I've been there before, I thought. On the other side of the fence watching a crowd of psyched-up crazies sacrificing a sunday morning to run around a park. It's so different on this side of the fence. Each person here has their reason for running. We're all hoping to make it in good time, our very presence giving testament to our commitment. I was hoping that I wouldn't be stretchered off twitching.
The nervous energy threatened to spill over and I started bouncing up and down. There was a loud chatter amongst the runners. Then suddenly, a countdown and off we went. Too large a crowd, we all walked until we hit the starting post and each of us then broke into a jog. It was pretty easy to get to 5k. I'd found a comfortable pace and was barely sweating. I considered my options at this point. I really wanted to make the run without stopping. I also wanted to make the run within an hour and I wasn't sure if I could manage it at that pace. I decided to wait to decide, it was still too early. I continued but picked up the pace a tiny bit. At 7k my legs had started to notice the work I was putting them through. Slowing down wasn't an option now - it was painful to slow down so I kept going. By 9k I was seriously contemplating stopping, it was a mental struggle to ignore my aching leg muscles and I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. I really wanted to stop. I told myself off. You can't stop now. You're doing this for yourself. No one else will care if you stop, they will understand, but you won't be able to forgive yourself for not trying harder. I reminded myself that I had conquered Oblivion. This was merely feeling tired. As I have been told, I am a pretty stubborn woman and was utterly determined to make it without walking. That last kilometre seemed like 100 miles. All around me people were giving up and walking. I started running faster. Getting there faster would mean less suffering I thought.
By the time I got to the final bend and the finishing line was in sight, I pushed myself to the limit and sprinted (as much as I can sprint, being a shortarse) towards to end. I can still remember the elation that I felt as I ran that those final metres, seeing my smiling boyfriend waiting with the camera, hearing the cheering and clapping around me. The minutes that followed were a bit of a blur. My body wanted to collapse, my legs stopped going on autopilot, I absently mindedly collected a medal and went to seek water. I looked at my watch. I'd made it in under an hour. It was the icing on the cake.
As the day of my 10k run loomed ever closer, I started having doubts as to whether I'd be able to make it. I totally failed to do any running at all last week, and by Friday, I'd lost all enthusiasm for it. Worst case scenario, I'd have to walk it, I thought.
Sunday morning, 8am I had to get up. I had to be at Victoria Park for 10am, 30 minutes before my wave started. I felt fine as I had some cereal and some juice to keep my strength up. However, by the time I got to the bus the nervousness and apprehension kicked in. I didn't want to let myself down. I felt bad for not having done any training during the week, even though I had taken Wednesday off work for that very purpose. Having set myself my first physical challenge, was I going to fail? Sitting on the bus going to the park, I sat quietly thinking. It was too late to change my mind about the run. I'd dragged my boyfriend early out of bed to support me, I'd made him run with me on Sundays that could have been better spent relaxing, I'd paid the fee and put in the time training myself. It was all just a matter of forming a strategy. Mind over matter, girl. I was fairly certain I was fit enough to make it.
When I got to the park, the first wave was already on their way round, presumably on their second lap. I watched them, faces set in concentration, a small army of red Nike shirts and black shorts. Wow, these guys are taking it seriously I thought.
As I approached the starting point, I could suddenly see a gigantic crowd of people in red. This must be the rest of my wave, I thought. I had no more time to worry. A voice came on over the tannoy asking wave 2 runners to go to the starting pen. I had just about enough time for a power pee before joining the rest of the crowd. I felt a sudden rush of energy and excitement. This was it! I'd waited some six weeks for this. I stared out through the railings at the spectators as I did a few stretches and waited for the gun to fire. I've been there before, I thought. On the other side of the fence watching a crowd of psyched-up crazies sacrificing a sunday morning to run around a park. It's so different on this side of the fence. Each person here has their reason for running. We're all hoping to make it in good time, our very presence giving testament to our commitment. I was hoping that I wouldn't be stretchered off twitching.
The nervous energy threatened to spill over and I started bouncing up and down. There was a loud chatter amongst the runners. Then suddenly, a countdown and off we went. Too large a crowd, we all walked until we hit the starting post and each of us then broke into a jog. It was pretty easy to get to 5k. I'd found a comfortable pace and was barely sweating. I considered my options at this point. I really wanted to make the run without stopping. I also wanted to make the run within an hour and I wasn't sure if I could manage it at that pace. I decided to wait to decide, it was still too early. I continued but picked up the pace a tiny bit. At 7k my legs had started to notice the work I was putting them through. Slowing down wasn't an option now - it was painful to slow down so I kept going. By 9k I was seriously contemplating stopping, it was a mental struggle to ignore my aching leg muscles and I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. I really wanted to stop. I told myself off. You can't stop now. You're doing this for yourself. No one else will care if you stop, they will understand, but you won't be able to forgive yourself for not trying harder. I reminded myself that I had conquered Oblivion. This was merely feeling tired. As I have been told, I am a pretty stubborn woman and was utterly determined to make it without walking. That last kilometre seemed like 100 miles. All around me people were giving up and walking. I started running faster. Getting there faster would mean less suffering I thought.
By the time I got to the final bend and the finishing line was in sight, I pushed myself to the limit and sprinted (as much as I can sprint, being a shortarse) towards to end. I can still remember the elation that I felt as I ran that those final metres, seeing my smiling boyfriend waiting with the camera, hearing the cheering and clapping around me. The minutes that followed were a bit of a blur. My body wanted to collapse, my legs stopped going on autopilot, I absently mindedly collected a medal and went to seek water. I looked at my watch. I'd made it in under an hour. It was the icing on the cake.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
water, air, ice and white horses
Wow. Last week was definitely a week of new experiences for me. I've barely even had time to digest it all...
Tuesday I had a day off work and spent it trying to relax. I spent an hour in a floatation tank which was the most bizarre experience... I'm not even sure I found it entirely pleasant. Basically, you get into this strange capsule full of warm water. You lie back and try to relax all your muscles whilst music is played to lull you into a sort of stupor. You turn the lights out and then in my case..
- you feel like you're falling. it's hard to orientate yourself as you are floating but you cannot feel your limbs.
- some time later (it's hard to keep track of time) the pain starts. a very uncomfortable ache spreads through your neck and shoulders and lasts for seemingly ages and ages and ages
- the pain disappears and you drift in and out of a light sleep. possible snoring and twitching occurs
- more pain, this time in the lower back.
- more twitching, only this time you sort of wake up, forget you're in water and thrash about slightly. the water movement makes you bob from side to side
- start to feel a bit seasick. try desperately to ignore it
- it's hard to breathe. you wonder how long you've been in this watery box. you wonder if your feet are still there.
- the music starts playing again indicating it's time to get out. you fumble for the door button and get out.
Getting out of the capsule was uncomfortable. My body felt heavy. Firstly there is a slight relief at the fresh cool air rushing into my lungs and then the nausea came back. I was pretty glad to get out of that room although once I'd gone outside, I was aware of a sense of detachment and relaxation. It was like a good session in a sauna. I was spaced out and it was as if I'd left something behind in that little room.
I'm glad I went, though I'm not sure if I'd want to do it again.
My next experience was the confrontation of one of my fears.
I'd always been pretty scared of heights and rollercoasters. Yeah I've been to Disneyworld but all the rides there have a strict emphasis on the fun element. So, I decided that a trip to Alton Towers was in order. I last went there in 1997 I think - and don't remember going on any of the rides at all so either I didn't, or it was such a bad experience I blocked it completely from my mind :) Anyway. My mission was to go on Oblivion. I saw it the last time I went and swore never to put myself through the ordeal of going on it. It's a simple ride. You sit in a car, go up a really steep incline, the ride tilts you so you can see the drop, then releases you to plunge into a black hole. It's horrible. And very high.
I saved that ordeal for last. I had to build myself up to it. The other rides at Alton Towers are pretty cool - Nemesis is fantastic. A new ride called Air is a very strange concept. You ride it horizontally - you spend most of it face down, watching the ground whizz by, and the rest of the ride on your back, watching the sky. A bit like flying I guess :) So... by the time I reached Oblivion I'd put my heart through it's paces but that didn't stop the fear and the dread that went through my mind as I walked through the empty queue. It was off-peak and midweek which meant that the park wasn't all that busy (which was great in most cases). Of course, I was almost hoping that there would be a queue as I was so scared but as my luck would have it, I was able to walk straight onto the ride. Before I could protest, I was unable to move and on my way up. It's odd but I don't remember much of the drop except for the fear. It was a petrifying and extreme experience that I wouldn't want to relive in a hurry. But I did it! And I was glad afterwards.
Thursday was the Goldfrapp gig. This was a bit of an experience because it was at Brixton Academy and I'd never been there before. To be honest, Brixton Academy has a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a dodgy place. Being a nice girl I don't often go to that kind of place :P
The gig was pretty good - particularly when they played Ride a White Horse where all these girls in tight outfits and horsey tails came onto the stage :))) For some reason I found that rather appealing...
Finally, yesterday I went to this fantastic new bar called the Absolut Ice Bar It was (literally) very cool. You have to reserve a time slot to go there and they give you these silver eskimo outfits to keep warm before you go in. The bar is kept at a temperature of minus five degrees and the walls and bar and seats are made of ice. The drinks are served in glasses carved from ice. Fantastic place :) But, as one review of the bar that I read put it, it's not a place to check people out. Not unless you have a penchant for silver eskimo outfits ;)
So... all in all I had a very busy week. This week I want to chill out and prepare myself for the physical and mental challenge that is my 10K run on Sunday :((((( eek!
Tuesday I had a day off work and spent it trying to relax. I spent an hour in a floatation tank which was the most bizarre experience... I'm not even sure I found it entirely pleasant. Basically, you get into this strange capsule full of warm water. You lie back and try to relax all your muscles whilst music is played to lull you into a sort of stupor. You turn the lights out and then in my case..
- you feel like you're falling. it's hard to orientate yourself as you are floating but you cannot feel your limbs.
- some time later (it's hard to keep track of time) the pain starts. a very uncomfortable ache spreads through your neck and shoulders and lasts for seemingly ages and ages and ages
- the pain disappears and you drift in and out of a light sleep. possible snoring and twitching occurs
- more pain, this time in the lower back.
- more twitching, only this time you sort of wake up, forget you're in water and thrash about slightly. the water movement makes you bob from side to side
- start to feel a bit seasick. try desperately to ignore it
- it's hard to breathe. you wonder how long you've been in this watery box. you wonder if your feet are still there.
- the music starts playing again indicating it's time to get out. you fumble for the door button and get out.
Getting out of the capsule was uncomfortable. My body felt heavy. Firstly there is a slight relief at the fresh cool air rushing into my lungs and then the nausea came back. I was pretty glad to get out of that room although once I'd gone outside, I was aware of a sense of detachment and relaxation. It was like a good session in a sauna. I was spaced out and it was as if I'd left something behind in that little room.
I'm glad I went, though I'm not sure if I'd want to do it again.
My next experience was the confrontation of one of my fears.
I'd always been pretty scared of heights and rollercoasters. Yeah I've been to Disneyworld but all the rides there have a strict emphasis on the fun element. So, I decided that a trip to Alton Towers was in order. I last went there in 1997 I think - and don't remember going on any of the rides at all so either I didn't, or it was such a bad experience I blocked it completely from my mind :) Anyway. My mission was to go on Oblivion. I saw it the last time I went and swore never to put myself through the ordeal of going on it. It's a simple ride. You sit in a car, go up a really steep incline, the ride tilts you so you can see the drop, then releases you to plunge into a black hole. It's horrible. And very high.
I saved that ordeal for last. I had to build myself up to it. The other rides at Alton Towers are pretty cool - Nemesis is fantastic. A new ride called Air is a very strange concept. You ride it horizontally - you spend most of it face down, watching the ground whizz by, and the rest of the ride on your back, watching the sky. A bit like flying I guess :) So... by the time I reached Oblivion I'd put my heart through it's paces but that didn't stop the fear and the dread that went through my mind as I walked through the empty queue. It was off-peak and midweek which meant that the park wasn't all that busy (which was great in most cases). Of course, I was almost hoping that there would be a queue as I was so scared but as my luck would have it, I was able to walk straight onto the ride. Before I could protest, I was unable to move and on my way up. It's odd but I don't remember much of the drop except for the fear. It was a petrifying and extreme experience that I wouldn't want to relive in a hurry. But I did it! And I was glad afterwards.
Thursday was the Goldfrapp gig. This was a bit of an experience because it was at Brixton Academy and I'd never been there before. To be honest, Brixton Academy has a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a dodgy place. Being a nice girl I don't often go to that kind of place :P
The gig was pretty good - particularly when they played Ride a White Horse where all these girls in tight outfits and horsey tails came onto the stage :))) For some reason I found that rather appealing...
Finally, yesterday I went to this fantastic new bar called the Absolut Ice Bar It was (literally) very cool. You have to reserve a time slot to go there and they give you these silver eskimo outfits to keep warm before you go in. The bar is kept at a temperature of minus five degrees and the walls and bar and seats are made of ice. The drinks are served in glasses carved from ice. Fantastic place :) But, as one review of the bar that I read put it, it's not a place to check people out. Not unless you have a penchant for silver eskimo outfits ;)
So... all in all I had a very busy week. This week I want to chill out and prepare myself for the physical and mental challenge that is my 10K run on Sunday :((((( eek!
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
pothole
Today, for the first time in a long while, I thought seriously about my options at work. I'm not an irrational person, but I am emotional and I take a lot of things quite seriously. The last time I thought maybe it was time for me to move on to perhaps another job, I was unhappy with the person I had to work for. In my eyes he was totally inept at management and only entertaining at best as a colleague. An attention-seeker and a failure at blagging - his only redeeming feature in my eyes was that he was more astute than he looked. It's hard to work for someone who you cannot respect.
Today, I felt it again. The little voice in my head saying, "are you sure you want to be here? you can do better than this. there are other opportunities waiting for you."
In the space of 2 minutes, this can happen. I have been criticised for taking too long to respond to a question. But my defense is that it's because I try and think about the consequences of my answers. It doesn't take a lot to knock the balance of a positive or negative outcome to any response you might give to even the most simple of questions. It's all a question of delivery. Location, wording, timing. It all matters. In maybe a minute or less you can fuck up so badly that everything goes wrong.
My point is this: when my manager gave me a piece of news today, it irreversibly changed the way I felt about my job, about the management, about my worth. When he intended this or not (I doubt it) I felt demotivated and undervalued. I felt reduced to an employee number in a very short space of time. I began to question my loyalty, felt somewhat bitter, angry and also upset. It's strange isn't it?
Some hours (and a fair few cocktails) later, I feel somewhat more rational. I have two days off work. I can think about how much it all means to me. I can think about my plan of action. I have an hour session in a floatation tank tomorrow. That's plenty of time to think about what I want to do. I will never stop being an emotional person. I will never be able to be ruthless in the workplace. But at least I can be rational and try and do what I believe to be the right thing in my own way.
Choices again. It always seems to be all about making choices. If only I could turn to page 281 to find out the outcome.
Today, I felt it again. The little voice in my head saying, "are you sure you want to be here? you can do better than this. there are other opportunities waiting for you."
In the space of 2 minutes, this can happen. I have been criticised for taking too long to respond to a question. But my defense is that it's because I try and think about the consequences of my answers. It doesn't take a lot to knock the balance of a positive or negative outcome to any response you might give to even the most simple of questions. It's all a question of delivery. Location, wording, timing. It all matters. In maybe a minute or less you can fuck up so badly that everything goes wrong.
My point is this: when my manager gave me a piece of news today, it irreversibly changed the way I felt about my job, about the management, about my worth. When he intended this or not (I doubt it) I felt demotivated and undervalued. I felt reduced to an employee number in a very short space of time. I began to question my loyalty, felt somewhat bitter, angry and also upset. It's strange isn't it?
Some hours (and a fair few cocktails) later, I feel somewhat more rational. I have two days off work. I can think about how much it all means to me. I can think about my plan of action. I have an hour session in a floatation tank tomorrow. That's plenty of time to think about what I want to do. I will never stop being an emotional person. I will never be able to be ruthless in the workplace. But at least I can be rational and try and do what I believe to be the right thing in my own way.
Choices again. It always seems to be all about making choices. If only I could turn to page 281 to find out the outcome.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Toothbrush Thief
I don't understand. I live in a house of four people. Occasionally there are six people, when my parents come down on a Monday to visit. So, how is it that in our bathroom, there are ten toothbrushes? Who are these four other mystery residents?
I've noticed recently that somebody keeps moving my toothbrush from it's rightful place in the Toothbrush Dinosaur. I raised this issue at the dinner table last week and no one owned up to the dirty deed.
Well ok, that all sounds pretty petty. What does it really matter anyway? However, in the hours between me getting up yesterday and getting back home (maybe 7.30am to 2pm), my toothbrush VANISHED! It is nowhere to be seen and I was forced to use a new one last night. Who stole my toothbrush?!?
This house is turning into a House of Mystery. Hmph.
Anyway, life goes on pretty much at full pelt otherwise. I went for a run this morning for the first time in three weeks, and it was noticably more difficult that the last time. Having said that, it seemed to take less time so perhaps I was pushing myself a little too hard. October 16th draws ever nearer though and I will soon need to start running longer distance in order to be able to make the 10k.
Tomorrow I go and visit my new baby cousin. She is having a month old party. Well, her parents are throwing a party on her behalf. I doubt very much that she'll have a clue what the fuss is about. I haven't seen my uncle (the father) since his wedding, and in that time his wife has already dropped her first sprog. What is the world coming to? She's only 19. At this rate, by the time she gets to my age she'll be on her third. I guess you pick and choose your path.
I've noticed recently that somebody keeps moving my toothbrush from it's rightful place in the Toothbrush Dinosaur. I raised this issue at the dinner table last week and no one owned up to the dirty deed.
Well ok, that all sounds pretty petty. What does it really matter anyway? However, in the hours between me getting up yesterday and getting back home (maybe 7.30am to 2pm), my toothbrush VANISHED! It is nowhere to be seen and I was forced to use a new one last night. Who stole my toothbrush?!?
This house is turning into a House of Mystery. Hmph.
Anyway, life goes on pretty much at full pelt otherwise. I went for a run this morning for the first time in three weeks, and it was noticably more difficult that the last time. Having said that, it seemed to take less time so perhaps I was pushing myself a little too hard. October 16th draws ever nearer though and I will soon need to start running longer distance in order to be able to make the 10k.
Tomorrow I go and visit my new baby cousin. She is having a month old party. Well, her parents are throwing a party on her behalf. I doubt very much that she'll have a clue what the fuss is about. I haven't seen my uncle (the father) since his wedding, and in that time his wife has already dropped her first sprog. What is the world coming to? She's only 19. At this rate, by the time she gets to my age she'll be on her third. I guess you pick and choose your path.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Me vs Moths - 39 : KO
The mystery of the moth infestation has finally been solved.
On Monday evening, my mum was startled to see a maggot-like creature crawling up one of our kitchen cabinet doors. Upon receiving the SOS, my brother came down to investigate and opened the cabinet to find hundreds of the buggers crawling around the chinese herbs and cashewnuts that my mum stashes away in these cupboards. Moths fluttered out of the cabinet by the dozens. Strange that we had never discovered this before, but we don't have much call to open these cupboards I guess. My poor brother got to work exterminating these moth larvae and prising them out of the joints with a toothpick whilst I sat at my pc blissfully unaware.
Come Tuesday night, I went to cook some rice for dinner and when I went to open the rice cooker, was confronted by a wriggling maggot on top of the cooker. Eek! I squished it with a tissue. Then I saw another, crawling bravely along the tabletop. I squished this one too, and recoiled at the popping noise. It took so long to get that popping noise out of my head..
Anyway, it seems like for weeks the moths have been breeding in that cupboard and nobody realised that it was happening in the kitchen. We all thought that they were flying in from the windows. Since Monday, the house has been somewhat devoid of moths and we are all rather pleased!
On Monday evening, my mum was startled to see a maggot-like creature crawling up one of our kitchen cabinet doors. Upon receiving the SOS, my brother came down to investigate and opened the cabinet to find hundreds of the buggers crawling around the chinese herbs and cashewnuts that my mum stashes away in these cupboards. Moths fluttered out of the cabinet by the dozens. Strange that we had never discovered this before, but we don't have much call to open these cupboards I guess. My poor brother got to work exterminating these moth larvae and prising them out of the joints with a toothpick whilst I sat at my pc blissfully unaware.
Come Tuesday night, I went to cook some rice for dinner and when I went to open the rice cooker, was confronted by a wriggling maggot on top of the cooker. Eek! I squished it with a tissue. Then I saw another, crawling bravely along the tabletop. I squished this one too, and recoiled at the popping noise. It took so long to get that popping noise out of my head..
Anyway, it seems like for weeks the moths have been breeding in that cupboard and nobody realised that it was happening in the kitchen. We all thought that they were flying in from the windows. Since Monday, the house has been somewhat devoid of moths and we are all rather pleased!
Friday, September 09, 2005
go Gadget go
I am the proud parent of a 3 day old PSP. My new baby is a beauty, all shiny and well behaved - he chirps happily whilst awake and sleeps soundly at night.
It's been a while since I called upon my gadget-girl alter ego. Quashed by the evil ones at Mastercard, she has been keeping a low profile for quite some time. However, the bitch is back and back with a vengeance. Head turning this way and that with all the cool new toys that are begging to be bought, the PSP has proved an effective distraction. It is an incredible piece of kit - pure heaven for those gadget inclined. Although the games released are not quite as jawstopping as would have hoped, there are good things to come. What can I say? I love it. The sound is good, the screen is excellent, the controls perfectly usable. It supports mp3s. It will play video off a memory card. It has wi-fi. It's widescreen. Hell, I can even store cheesy holiday snaps on it. All it needs now is a digital tv receiver, a touchscreen and a stylus and I will be a playstation convert forever.
It's been a while since I called upon my gadget-girl alter ego. Quashed by the evil ones at Mastercard, she has been keeping a low profile for quite some time. However, the bitch is back and back with a vengeance. Head turning this way and that with all the cool new toys that are begging to be bought, the PSP has proved an effective distraction. It is an incredible piece of kit - pure heaven for those gadget inclined. Although the games released are not quite as jawstopping as would have hoped, there are good things to come. What can I say? I love it. The sound is good, the screen is excellent, the controls perfectly usable. It supports mp3s. It will play video off a memory card. It has wi-fi. It's widescreen. Hell, I can even store cheesy holiday snaps on it. All it needs now is a digital tv receiver, a touchscreen and a stylus and I will be a playstation convert forever.
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