Why is this happening to me!

I know. You think I’m getting emo again. But what you don’t understand is, I’m really, seriously, stuck in a shit hole at the moment.

I guess I’ve really aged. I was reading some of my past blog entries and found them extremely repulsive. Damn, what was I thinking? All that effort gone into trying to be edgy and different could have gotten me… wait. It’d not have gotten me anywhere anyway, since I would probably have been distracted by some other random factor in my life.

So my Father is hospitalised. And have been told to leave his company. Very nice. He’s going through the entire mid-life crisis phase and is refusing to take the treatment seriously. It’s wearing me thin, and sometimes I wished I could just walk away from all this painful recalcitrance rather than sip it in like poison. My Mom is half of her old self.

Personally I believe in Karma. But lately, I believe more in pre-destiny and fate. Because my parents are the most endearing people I know on earth. They are kind, they treat people with respect. I don’t understand why such tragedy struck our family. Our past lives? Over dinner, Mom and I were discussing about how it would be utterly depressing if all this is happening to us due to a “stroke of bad luck”. In a self-deprecating and cynical manner, I told my Mom, “You probably killed someone in your past life. And this is your retribution. Else, there’s NOTHING that you have done in this life to call for such painful consequences.”

And in true tragic-hero fashion, we laughed. Resigning to fate a little, feeling a little comforted that we have at least each other to hold on to. She’s the reason why I’m not putting all this away and walking on. I am doing this more because I care for my Mom than for my Dad, really. Because to me, a consequential victim is the most pitiful in any situation. Just like a passive smoker. Or a housewife who accidentally stepped into an armed robbery. Or a random Singaporean who was held hostage at the Oberoi. Hah. I know. I hate all these innocent implications. To me, they don’t deserve it. Let the person who caused it face the effect. To me, to be sacrificed conveniently just because you’re there at the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong person makes me very upset.

I feel more for my Mom because I can identify with her pain. It’s like working for a pitch that is never going to come to fruition. It’s like calling a Client who hangs up on you. Everyday, we’re strategising how to coax my Dad into accepting his current situation and believing in the treatment that he’s going through.

He is a traditional fatalist. He thinks all doctors and surgeons practicing western medicine are evil. He chooses to not seek treatment because he doesn’t want to face the pain of the treatment. Can you imagine how frustrating and ironic this whole situation is? It’s like trying to lug a buffalo across the field. At midnight.

To my Mom and myself, this entire episode is a very simple process of logic. ie. Cause and effect.

Sick -> Diagnosis -> Treatment -> Pain -> Recovery

To my Dad it’s like this.

Sick -> No Diagnosis = No sickness -> Drag and cough and pain and complain -> Sympathy from the world -> Miraculous Recovery

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HIS PSYCHE. Is it just middle-aged andropausal behaviour? Or is it his upbringing in a traditional Hainanese environment? Or is it because, sadly, he didn’t have a chance to receive the luxury of education sufficient enough for him to realise CAUSE LEADS TO EFFECT.

I don’t know. Sometimes my Mom thinks it’s the whole education thing. And that’s why she’s always stressed on it so persistently. She believes education opens up our minds. Cause and effect seems very simple and taken for granted by us. But that might be because we have always been immersed into this concept by our syllabus.

Like, Math. Formulas. Input affects Output. Constants, Variables, Expectancy, Probability.

History. Mistakes that even great kings and emperors made that caused their demise. How civilisations have evolved due to paradigm shifts.

So on and so forth.

Maybe that’s why I fail to understand why my Dad’s thinking is so. Out this world. Maybe it’s just, out of “my world”. His frame of reference is different. His experiences were different. He learnt about the concept of independence and responsibility on his own at the age of 12. This is what keeps me going. That it’s not that his obnoxious just because he wants to be a wilful and difficult patient. It’s that his mindset disallows him from letting him perceive things from a different point of view. He is locked in his own world because he learnt and interpreted all of life’s lessons himself.

If there was anything that his family taught him, it is selfishness, self-defence, self-interest, escapism. To them, a problem doesn’t exist if you choose not to identify it. Hide it under the carpet. Out of sight, out of mind.

And maybe his trying teenage made him realise that as long as you ignore a problem, it will cease to be a problem when it implodes and slowly becomes forgotten. No money for dinner, starve. The next payday will come. Met a motorcycle accident, repair the bike, but live with a limp for a month.

At this point in this entry, I feel like crying. I love my family very dearly. And it is ridiculous for them to have to face all this.

I’m tired. My brother dropped my Mom and I off at Bugis (of all places) to take bus 80 home from Novena because his girlfriend was getting off class and he had no time to send us back before fetching her from Somerset.

I am numb. So is my Mom. There’s always this sense of dry bitterness at the back of my tongue. Why is this happening to me? Is there more to life than this?

It’s been 4 years.

It is extremely scary to have your mind lose track of things that you feel so certain of. In fact, it’s even scarier (and embarrassing) when the person you were dead sure would forget proves you wrong.

This year’s Valentine’s has been the best in my life thus far. And when I say best, I don’t mean the most expensive or extravagant effort (although it did cost quite a bit because it involved flowers. and flowers during Valentine’s = evil.)

And then, I look back at my past (failed) relationships, on top of my persistent (and regular) interrogation to dig out all of his ex-girlfriends, I realised how funny love can be. Because I never expected myself to fall in love with this man at the beginning. I wasn’t even sure whether to reciprocate when he said his first “I Love You” some donkey years back. And I learnt that, the more you start getting neurotic over whether you love someone or not, delving deep into your heart and brains to find proof and semblances of love, the more you become unsure. When we reached out 1 year mark, I began asking myself a thousand questions. Everytime we hit our yearly marks since then, I start getting edgy and frustrated. Do I love this guy enough? Is “I don’t mind” good enough an answer or must it be “Yes I’m sure” before we head on to anything else.

I know. I’m a bitch for needing to ask myself this 3 years and 3 months into the relationship. But it’s my internal mechanism to start questioning myself on things because I’m just programmed this way. At the end of the day, I think about all the pain and tears we’ve gone through when my lies exploded right in front of my face, and when he became insecure about me coming into contact with other male homosapiens. We’ve come a long way, and our relationship is a testimonial of sorts to degree of our dedication (and desperation) to stick together through thick and thin.

Sometimes he frustrates me. He does silly things or silly-ly yell at me for doing silly things. Basically, we’re the same. We have so much pride, we hate being criticised. We both yell at each other when we think there’s a better and faster way of doing something compared to the current method that is playing out in front of us. We blabber our frustrations very openly. We call each other stupid. We stare at each other and start laughing when we quarrel.

And then I look at the relationships around us. There are newbies in this realm of “long term relationships” who are exhibiting so much mushyness, it’s as if they’re trying to make up for the years before that they’ve not been doing it, there are oldies (bwahaha) who have been together longer than us, who I feel both a sense of admiration and fatigue for, there are people still breaking up, even though we’re already in our twenties, still looking for love, still wanting love. When I look back into my own love life, I realised all the breakups and deception prior to this relationship were destined to make me cherish this person more. That all the pain I went through as an adolescent has set the stage for me to become someone who would not nullify my boyfriend’s efforts to please me. I’ve not been the luckiest girl around. I’ve not been treated well for the longest time. And even though he is still not as crazily doting as some of the people I have heard of, I’m content. Because I treasure his honesty. And his respect for my personal time. His understanding of my crazy work schedule, even though it comes with a good amount of grumbling and raised decibels.

And at 23 (going 24 this june), I’m telling myself I don’t have the time and energy to go through all this laying the cards on the table, setting the rules, and going through teething stages for a relationship to finally operate on mutual understanding and respect. I know this sounds really irresponsible and lazy, but, trust me.l If this current guy doesn’t make the cut, he wouldn’t have lasted 3 years.

This Valentine’s Day, my conviction was strengthened when flowers arrived at my office that morning (Yes I work on Saturdays. And I hate it.). Totally surprised, I was glad he decided to bring me to Waraku instead of accepting my proposition to cook at home. I was finally brought on a decent date on Valentine’s Day. Something I was deprived from because I was always let down during Valentine’s Day or made aware of the plans. This year was just perfect. I’m not someone who asks for alot of things. But what I was most moved by was his attention to all the things I have been grumbling about that I thought he’s been turning a deaf ear to. Like the flowers. I’ve always wished for someone to send flowers to my workplace. I don’t know. It’s just this little fixation. And I was brought for Japanese and anything involving Udon, Tempura, Sashimi, Kaminabe and Chawanmushi is much much loved.

So, Sugar, I just want to say. I thoroughly enjoyed this year’s Valentine’s. So now, you either raise the benchmark next year. Or this will be our last.

HAHAHAHA. Just kidding.

Valentine's at Clarke Quay

Thank you.

The fountain of hope springs eternal.

Enough said.

=)

For the new year

It’s always comforting to have your loved ones around during festive seasons. Somehow, Sugar and I used to always end up fighting during special occasions, prolly because we’re overly uptight about others’ expectations and our own. But this CNY, everything went smoothly.

Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s how we all become overwhelmed by fatigue and other worldly considerations that we no longer rivet on little nothings that are, really, little nothings and blow them up to mammoth proportions.

Somehow, I’d like to say that the new year has brought me many aspirations. Driving lessons, tarot reading, career something something. These days I wake up feeling tired. I sleep feeling restless, as if my mind is a blender that keeps chomping on bits and pieces till they turn to pulp, only for the pulp to solidify and the process repeats itself.

My head is killing me. And I’m killing myself.

Sometimes I just fall speechless. Silent. Resistance is futile. Zzz.

I just hope this year, my passion for life can be revived. That my bunny will continue to save my day. And Sugar will be well on his way on achieving something that would be instrumental in our future together.

Let’s just hope that 2009 isn’t as bad as everyone says. And hope new opportunities will come slapping on my face like blind bees.

OMG PLEASE.

Homecoming bunny!

We will be getting PONY SQUID back tomorrow in the afternoon! My lovely bunny is going to be home!

The things we ordered arrived. Came up to 240 approximately inclusive of tupperwares to put the pellets, and large containers to house the hay, pellets and other miscellaneous items.

So. I’m so happy! We’re going to have a bunny!

That means Sugar won’t be staying over at my place for a long time since he will have to feed the bunny at night. I insisted that no one else touches the bunny. RAWR.

Ok. Gtg. I’m so happy!!

Grand project 2008.

I’m going to pack my room tomorrow. Meaning, spring cleaning (including wiping of walls and ceiling), rearranging furniture, washing the curtains, clearing out the closet.

Sugar has been deployed to help me. HAHA!

Anyway, I went to see 2 doctors regarding my Keloids today. One quoted me $80 per steroid jab. Another quoted me $40 per jab. OMFG what’s with the price disparity.

Well, I went to apply my pdl. I’m going to start my private lessons on Christmas eve. LOL!

And my advanced theory test will be on 22 January. Yipee!

I HAVE TO GET MY LICENSE IN 2009. GODAMMIT.

Keloid/hypertropic scar

I have another problem besides weight now. I have a scar where my industrial piercing used to be.

I spent $90 on the piercing. But I believe I’ll be spending hundreds in the course of the next few months to get rid of it.

That’s my life, fyi. Fuckshits always happen!

Did I tell you?

That I’m on a weightloss plan. I know. Sounds hardly convincing. Well. I’m working on it!

I’ve been watching what I eat carefully, and I’m starting to get very irritated by how the fats around my stomach will fold when I sit down.

OMG.

My arms have also grown 140% of its original size.

Well, I’m more like trying to go back to my old weight than to look like a completely different person. And I have health concerns now that I am very worried about.

My weight hasn’t been dropping but my skirt doesn’t feel like it’s going to ride up my ass anymore. Good.

See you in 6 months time. When the scales start budging, I will update my progress. Now it’s stagnant.

OMG.

A sudden feeling.

I just came back from work, bathed, and am actually preparing to go to sleep. I just switched on the blasting TV. Sugar has gone to sleep without chatting with me on the phone. My Mom told me she’s going to call MOM. Haha. I don’t know. None of my friends are working this hard.

By the way, it’s 12.30am now, and I have got work tomorrow because I need to rush this letter out. Bravo. I have a concall with my colleague who’s in Mumbai now which means I can’t take the morning afternoon off.

I know alot of people say designers work such long hours too. Yeah. I know. But that’s why I didn’t study design.

I have no motivation to do anything now. I still have to spring clean my room, which will take at last 3 weekends because I simply have too much stuff, and my boss thinks we do not have a life.

But I do.

Shoewhore diaries.

If you’re close enough to me, you’d know that I’m obsessed about shoes. I love shoes, but with new addition(s) to my family coming really soon, I should reduce my shoe fund to buy pellets, hay and whatnots for my lovely tot(s)!

 

 

Well, back to shoes. Here’s an obituary of sorts.

 

 

Well, to fill the void in my heart, I have used SGD 77.90 to acquire the following lovelies:

Please don’t ask me why 3/4 are black and 1/4 is dark blue. DON’T. 

I went crazy at a NOVO sale and I think my love for black shoes is becoming PATHOLOGICAL.

I need a shrink.