I've seldom come across this scenario since I left primary school, but it occurred to me again recently that it's really hard to be close friends with people who don't like and/or don't understand each other.
[Disclaimer: This is not directed at any one person; it's a collective bitch-and-moan covering an expanse of recent events.]
It all seems concentrated around this period, starting around CNY. All these events congregate to show me how unkind and judgemental people can be, especially regarding delicate situations. Quite disappointing when they are friends I treasure and trust to be largely discerning and fair people.
Even professional comments can turn personal and downright bitchy. I was especially pissed off during one particular dinner where there was collective bashing of someone I'm very close to. The professional and somewhat constructive comments I could take objectively. But they quickly turned mean, mocking and unfair. That's when I sat on my hands to keep from slapping someone within arm's reach.
The incident about the suicide. I'm still harping on it because it still stings and I'm PMSing. It occurred to me that if that "just let her die" comment had come out during PMS, I would have asked that person to stop the car and I'd have walked out on the spot. But oh no, stupid me was stunned into incredulous silence while someone else quickly salvaged the situation. It didn't come from someone close to me, and I got the person to apologise eventually, but it still stings, and the apology didn't come out quite right, as if there was a passive defense of the insensitive comment. Who are these people to say and assume things when they don't even know E and what kind of person she is? And I also take it as a personal slight, seeing how they knew I was going out with them because I really needed some company because I was upset and very shaken.
And other intense and/or shocking info about these various parties. I'm privy to these slices of information, but that doesn't mean I should be grilled about all the juicy details that are clearly for my ears only, especially when they're going to form their own opinion anyway. And all the judgement that's going on, my goodness. If you don't know the fucking details and can't understand another person, don't assume.
But what did I do in most of these situations of friends-bashing? The politically correct thing - keep my cool and close one eye. And seethe afterward. Perhaps, as a person in this industry, I'm too balanced in opinion (if I do say so myself) and value gan qing too much.
Yes, friends can sometimes be unkind and unfair. But I accept and love them as they are. Well, most of them.
Gosh, if I compiled everything and made it into a single soap opera, it'd put Days of Our Lives to shame.
I can't wait for progesterone levels to go back down.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Liking sans the heart
Perhaps I really have forgotten how to feel. It feels remote and inaccessible at this point in time.
Being close enough to smell him, (very) furtively watching him, just the awareness of his presence - these are sometimes almost unbearable. I do like him.
But my heart is not moved. And I think I know why.
I can't feel for someone whose insides I have not seen. Someone who has not opened up to expose the soft insides, if only for a second.
I can't want what I can't see.
I'm safe, for now.
Being close enough to smell him, (very) furtively watching him, just the awareness of his presence - these are sometimes almost unbearable. I do like him.
But my heart is not moved. And I think I know why.
I can't feel for someone whose insides I have not seen. Someone who has not opened up to expose the soft insides, if only for a second.
I can't want what I can't see.
I'm safe, for now.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
The Waltz
"Those violins, they must go
So no careless hand with a bow
May play on the strings of my heart
And make me remember how lovers part"
~The Waltz - Silje Nergaard~
So no careless hand with a bow
May play on the strings of my heart
And make me remember how lovers part"
~The Waltz - Silje Nergaard~
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A writer's stream
There was a writer, and she did not know what to write about.
There was a writer, and she looked around.
She saw a child scale a closed school gate with a red backpack dangling from one elbow. She wrote about that.
She passed by a millipede, kicked it aside, and wrote about that.
She bought a bottle of cold water, drew a line down its glistening coat of condensation with her finger, watched the bottom droplet stagger its way down the bottle, and wrote about that too.
She paused by a large puddle of water, tapped at it with the toe of her shoe, and watched the ripples. She imagined she saw five other writers dancing behind her, each peering down at the puddle. She wrote about that.
She saw a squashed yellow flower on the road and wrote about that.
She looked up as a young man on a bicycle zipped past her. He turned his head to look at her for a second before turning back to look ahead. She smiled at the back of the receding figure. She stood there smiling at him, not quite knowing why, until he was out of sight. She wrote about that.
She went inside her house and slammed the door shut. The sound made her jump and look at the door for a moment, and she wrote about that too.
She lay the wrong way down on her bed and ran her toe along the bedpost, and she wrote about that.
There was a writer and she lay the wrong way down on her bed, her freshly sharpened craft knife pressed against the inside of her left wrist. She wanted to write about that too.
But the writer had run out of things to write about. She put down the knife, and she stopped writing.
There was a writer, and she looked around.
She saw a child scale a closed school gate with a red backpack dangling from one elbow. She wrote about that.
She passed by a millipede, kicked it aside, and wrote about that.
She bought a bottle of cold water, drew a line down its glistening coat of condensation with her finger, watched the bottom droplet stagger its way down the bottle, and wrote about that too.
She paused by a large puddle of water, tapped at it with the toe of her shoe, and watched the ripples. She imagined she saw five other writers dancing behind her, each peering down at the puddle. She wrote about that.
She saw a squashed yellow flower on the road and wrote about that.
She looked up as a young man on a bicycle zipped past her. He turned his head to look at her for a second before turning back to look ahead. She smiled at the back of the receding figure. She stood there smiling at him, not quite knowing why, until he was out of sight. She wrote about that.
She went inside her house and slammed the door shut. The sound made her jump and look at the door for a moment, and she wrote about that too.
She lay the wrong way down on her bed and ran her toe along the bedpost, and she wrote about that.
There was a writer and she lay the wrong way down on her bed, her freshly sharpened craft knife pressed against the inside of her left wrist. She wanted to write about that too.
But the writer had run out of things to write about. She put down the knife, and she stopped writing.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Ghost of Weekend Past
WARNING: Self-indulgent rambling below. Necessary purging, completely for my own benefit.
It's been an eventful week, for sure, and emotionally draining for several reasons. All the more reason to put on my shoes and run out the door each night. Yearning for a pair of arms but seeking just some company. Self-denial (and self-protection) builds character, doesn't it? Doesn't it?
A treasured person almost became nothing but a memory. I wasn't there on time. It wasn't my fault, but I still wasn't there on time. She's safe now, though.
She had more than enough tears of her own, so I didn't see the need to add to hers. But when someone called to ask me what had happened, I lost it in the waiting room and burst into tears. But just once. More important to hold it together on my own to avoid distressing others. Am I becoming like her? Am I learning this trait that she's now trying to unlearn?
Perhaps more distressing were some insensitive comments made by people who didn't know her. Those comments weren't ill-meant, but they still hurt to hear.
"She's just an attention-seeker."
Attention-seeker!! If they only knew who they were talking about, they wouldn't ever say that. The very reason friends came running is because she's NOT an attention-seeker. The very fact that she's crying for help rings serious alarm bells.
"Just let her die."
This was said (presumably) completely candidly, but it still shocked me into momentary silence. And at a moment when I was already feeling fuck-all. Even more shocking perhaps was that it came from someone whom I did not expect such words at all. But for the benefit of all, I kept it behind my wall.
Walls are good.
And...the realisation that I may be awakening to something involuntary and unwelcome certainly rattles. Makes me uncomfortable and mildly distressed.
I don't want. But I do want. All at once.
As a general concept, I told a close friend some months ago, I don't need it but I want it.
Then, just the other night, I told the same friend that I need it but I don't want it.
And I now find it hard to differentiate between needing and wanting it. Seems important to know the difference, somehow.
It's been an eventful week, for sure, and emotionally draining for several reasons. All the more reason to put on my shoes and run out the door each night. Yearning for a pair of arms but seeking just some company. Self-denial (and self-protection) builds character, doesn't it? Doesn't it?
A treasured person almost became nothing but a memory. I wasn't there on time. It wasn't my fault, but I still wasn't there on time. She's safe now, though.
She had more than enough tears of her own, so I didn't see the need to add to hers. But when someone called to ask me what had happened, I lost it in the waiting room and burst into tears. But just once. More important to hold it together on my own to avoid distressing others. Am I becoming like her? Am I learning this trait that she's now trying to unlearn?
Perhaps more distressing were some insensitive comments made by people who didn't know her. Those comments weren't ill-meant, but they still hurt to hear.
"She's just an attention-seeker."
Attention-seeker!! If they only knew who they were talking about, they wouldn't ever say that. The very reason friends came running is because she's NOT an attention-seeker. The very fact that she's crying for help rings serious alarm bells.
"Just let her die."
This was said (presumably) completely candidly, but it still shocked me into momentary silence. And at a moment when I was already feeling fuck-all. Even more shocking perhaps was that it came from someone whom I did not expect such words at all. But for the benefit of all, I kept it behind my wall.
Walls are good.
And...the realisation that I may be awakening to something involuntary and unwelcome certainly rattles. Makes me uncomfortable and mildly distressed.
I don't want. But I do want. All at once.
As a general concept, I told a close friend some months ago, I don't need it but I want it.
Then, just the other night, I told the same friend that I need it but I don't want it.
And I now find it hard to differentiate between needing and wanting it. Seems important to know the difference, somehow.
Friday, February 08, 2008
A scare and a tear
Learned something today which left me spooked and deeply affected. But stupidly not really knowing what to do, I tried what little I knew which was, inevitably, rather ineffectual I think.
Helpless and frustrated the rest of the day. The false cheer of the rest of the festive day coloured the following hours with a surreal quality. Even all through an enjoyable late-night party with good company, there was no way to shake it, even as I put on a big smile and laughed with friends.
Helpless because I don't know how to help her. I want to learn, but perhaps I'm not in close enough proximity. Scared shitless that someone wonderful was almost lost.
It was 5 minutes ago at 7am that I gave up trying to sleep on an uneasy heart, allowed myself to burst into tears, then texted my three closest friends to tell them I love them.
E - even though we're not the closest of friends, you were great when I really needed you, and many people love you. Please stay. Don't be sorry, just stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When dressing for the party tonight, I suddenly wanted to put on something that reminded me of my grandma. I took out a necklace that belonged to her, added extension links and wore it as a bracelet. I fingered the opal pendant sporadically throughout the night thinking of her.
I think of her a lot every Chinese new year.
Helpless and frustrated the rest of the day. The false cheer of the rest of the festive day coloured the following hours with a surreal quality. Even all through an enjoyable late-night party with good company, there was no way to shake it, even as I put on a big smile and laughed with friends.
Helpless because I don't know how to help her. I want to learn, but perhaps I'm not in close enough proximity. Scared shitless that someone wonderful was almost lost.
It was 5 minutes ago at 7am that I gave up trying to sleep on an uneasy heart, allowed myself to burst into tears, then texted my three closest friends to tell them I love them.
E - even though we're not the closest of friends, you were great when I really needed you, and many people love you. Please stay. Don't be sorry, just stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When dressing for the party tonight, I suddenly wanted to put on something that reminded me of my grandma. I took out a necklace that belonged to her, added extension links and wore it as a bracelet. I fingered the opal pendant sporadically throughout the night thinking of her.
I think of her a lot every Chinese new year.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Sleepless
Having trouble sleeping lately. Typically roll around for a few hours, doze a bit then get startled awake by the alarm.
Don't know why. My mind won't stay quiet when I lie still. Toss around till it's too uncomfortable to stay lying down anymore. And still my mind is going a mile a minute.
Perhaps it's the inactivity. Perhaps loneliness. Perhaps disquiet. Perhaps unfulfilled longing. Perhaps the fear of longing. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.
The last time I had such trouble sleeping was almost a year ago.
Yes, it's been almost a year. Come 17 February, it will be exactly one year. I was happy again after a while. What's happening now? Why now?
I need to start writing again.
"She's afraid of a light in the dark.
6.58, are you sure where my spark is?
Here, here, here."
~Spark, Tori Amos~
Don't know why. My mind won't stay quiet when I lie still. Toss around till it's too uncomfortable to stay lying down anymore. And still my mind is going a mile a minute.
Perhaps it's the inactivity. Perhaps loneliness. Perhaps disquiet. Perhaps unfulfilled longing. Perhaps the fear of longing. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.
The last time I had such trouble sleeping was almost a year ago.
Yes, it's been almost a year. Come 17 February, it will be exactly one year. I was happy again after a while. What's happening now? Why now?
I need to start writing again.
"She's afraid of a light in the dark.
6.58, are you sure where my spark is?
Here, here, here."
~Spark, Tori Amos~
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Here are the promised photos at last. No scenic shots this time, I'm afraid - both parents were around, hence the lack of adventure. My mum and bro-in-law took loads of pictures, but I reckon putting all 400 of them here would be overkill. Here are a few choice ones.
Do you have ANY IDEA how much that boy weighs?? 50 friggin pounds! So I assure you, he was a lot more thrilled than I was in this picture.
Birthday pink! These were the shots they took of her to print her birthday invitations with.
My sis whipped up a post-X'mas feast for us. Doesn't look like much in this photo, but we were stuffed to the gills.
Happy kids in the play pen. It isn't always this happy, though. The girl won't stay in there alone without demanding some company, and the boy can't be left alone with her because he does the territorial thing and takes her toys away when we're not watching.
Aww...sibling lovin'. That girl sure can pucker up at an early age.
The birthday girl in her pretty birthday dress and shiny shoes...that she couldn't crawl in.
This looks so wrong...
...until you get the front view.
Caitlyn's birthday cupcakes! In case you haven't guessed, the theme for the party was PINK (Y&Wers: you know what else I'm thinking of). We hung shimmery snowflakes around the house. "For my winter princess," my sis said.
This must have been been taken by my bro-in-law, always capturing people at their best. Not.
Grandma with the kids.
She loves bath time.
Do you have ANY IDEA how much that boy weighs?? 50 friggin pounds! So I assure you, he was a lot more thrilled than I was in this picture.
Birthday pink! These were the shots they took of her to print her birthday invitations with.
My sis whipped up a post-X'mas feast for us. Doesn't look like much in this photo, but we were stuffed to the gills.
Happy kids in the play pen. It isn't always this happy, though. The girl won't stay in there alone without demanding some company, and the boy can't be left alone with her because he does the territorial thing and takes her toys away when we're not watching.
Aww...sibling lovin'. That girl sure can pucker up at an early age.
The birthday girl in her pretty birthday dress and shiny shoes...that she couldn't crawl in.
This looks so wrong...
...until you get the front view.
Caitlyn's birthday cupcakes! In case you haven't guessed, the theme for the party was PINK (Y&Wers: you know what else I'm thinking of). We hung shimmery snowflakes around the house. "For my winter princess," my sis said.
This must have been been taken by my bro-in-law, always capturing people at their best. Not.
Grandma with the kids.
She loves bath time.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Appendix to previous post - tech woes
Addition to 11 January - now: My friggin hard disk died 2 seconds after I turned on my beloved baby on the day I arrived home. An ominous clicking sound was the telltale symptom that the hard disk's only limb was wonky. F***.
Spent the next week feeling utter incapacitated with my baby in a coma, checking email only sporadically with my dad's less-than-lovely laptop, and trying to begborrowsteal a WinXP CD but later realised I needed to get the recovery CD from IBM.
1st attempt with IBM: "Sure, ma'am, we'll email you the quotation."
2nd attempt: "Where's the quotation?" "Oh, we'll check."
3rd: (Email:) "Thank you for your enquiry. Please allow 5 to 6 weeks for processing" (My response, paraphrased:) "Why the f*** does it take you 5 to 6 weeks to check if you have a CD in storage?? My work can't wait 6 f***ing weeks!!"
4th: (Email, same day as above:) "Your order has been confirmed and will be put through in 3 working days."
5th: (Phonecall, same day as above:) "Your CD is ready for collection. Now."
6th: (IBM service centre receptionist:) "Service centre that way." --> shoots me a look like I'm an idiot for not spotting the service centre door in the next hallway.
AND...in the meantime, my wireless router chooses this time to enter its death throes. After testing left, right and centre, I conclude that it's the router and only the router that's acting up. Hence, new cheap router...that has to be reset every few days. Sigh. Thank goodness I was kiasu and bought two extra hard disks on sale last year.
So now, I'm obviously back online, sans a bunch of my data that couldn't be saved from the old hard disk. At least, I didn't want to fork out hundreds or thousands of $$ to save the data.
Am amazed, though, that after 4 years, the system itself is still running like a dream, even with minimal maintenance and no upgrades to date. My baby loves me.
Spent the next week feeling utter incapacitated with my baby in a coma, checking email only sporadically with my dad's less-than-lovely laptop, and trying to begborrowsteal a WinXP CD but later realised I needed to get the recovery CD from IBM.
1st attempt with IBM: "Sure, ma'am, we'll email you the quotation."
2nd attempt: "Where's the quotation?" "Oh, we'll check."
3rd: (Email:) "Thank you for your enquiry. Please allow 5 to 6 weeks for processing" (My response, paraphrased:) "Why the f*** does it take you 5 to 6 weeks to check if you have a CD in storage?? My work can't wait 6 f***ing weeks!!"
4th: (Email, same day as above:) "Your order has been confirmed and will be put through in 3 working days."
5th: (Phonecall, same day as above:) "Your CD is ready for collection. Now."
6th: (IBM service centre receptionist:) "Service centre that way." --> shoots me a look like I'm an idiot for not spotting the service centre door in the next hallway.
AND...in the meantime, my wireless router chooses this time to enter its death throes. After testing left, right and centre, I conclude that it's the router and only the router that's acting up. Hence, new cheap router...that has to be reset every few days. Sigh. Thank goodness I was kiasu and bought two extra hard disks on sale last year.
So now, I'm obviously back online, sans a bunch of my data that couldn't be saved from the old hard disk. At least, I didn't want to fork out hundreds or thousands of $$ to save the data.
Am amazed, though, that after 4 years, the system itself is still running like a dream, even with minimal maintenance and no upgrades to date. My baby loves me.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
News in briefs...I mean, brief
It's now more than a month into the new year and it still feels new...even though it's just another arbitrary square on a calendar. A quick rundown of what's been going on in my 2-month silence:
November - early December
Mad Forest gears up. Some of the last writing projects of the year pop up on my computer screen like daisies on a fresh grave. In other words, I'm too busy to think or breathe. When we finally move into the theatre venue in gawdforsaken Woodlands, there's no time for even work, and we spend up to 15 hours a day in the theatre and practice space. And finally, the mind-splitting week of the show. Three intense hours each show, with none of us ever leaving the stage - three solid hours of non-stop concentration and engagement...and that's just when we are on stage, not including warm-ups, notes, tweaks, etc.
Mid-December - Christmas
Mad Forest is finally over. My brain says TTFN (ta ta for now). All of us are so exhausted from the mind-numbing process that our minds really do go numb - some of the Y&Wers actually do notice that this is my 'blonde' week. In the meantime, I just barely find time between Christmas prep to grab a couple of close friends out, i.e. the people I've neglected during the insanely busy period. Christmas comes - I'm sick. The day after Christmas, I finally get to meet dear Ruilian to give her her birthday present.
27 December - 11 January
I fly off to my sister's in northern California without realising that I haven't told many of my close friends where I'll be (they'll be the ones who are puzzled to call me and find my phone turned off). And here is where some friends get the wrong idea that I was away on holiday. I am with my entire family, and that is NEVER a holiday.
11 January - now
I reach home on a Friday and THAT's when my real break starts. I spend the following week getting over jet lag and finally resting after a mad last quarter. And the week that follows sees my mum arriving home. Sigh.
And now, I'm downright bored from the lack of work. Clients in the publishing industry seem to love to have overhauls at the beginning of the year, e.g. cutting back on issues, change of editors, etc. And in one spectacular case, one client simply disappearing, effectively stiffing me of more than $2,000 - I'll go stake out their office again very soon and see if I'll need (and can afford) to bring small claims proceedings against them.
Doesn't help that some friends are going through some serious shit in their love lives. I'm shuffling between worrying for them and wanting to slap a couple of them for emotional stupidity. My own singlehood isn't always fun - while I'm not actively looking, I am keeping open to suggestion, but the only suggestions are occasional light flirting and a handful of skanks and/or weirdos. Sigh again.
Being bored and semi-depressed is a bad combi. Makes me believe I'm lonely. Oh, and a suspicion that I'm falling ill - during a festive period AGAIN.
I need more work. Then I'll be happy again.
P.S. Photos akan datang.
November - early December
Mad Forest gears up. Some of the last writing projects of the year pop up on my computer screen like daisies on a fresh grave. In other words, I'm too busy to think or breathe. When we finally move into the theatre venue in gawdforsaken Woodlands, there's no time for even work, and we spend up to 15 hours a day in the theatre and practice space. And finally, the mind-splitting week of the show. Three intense hours each show, with none of us ever leaving the stage - three solid hours of non-stop concentration and engagement...and that's just when we are on stage, not including warm-ups, notes, tweaks, etc.
Mid-December - Christmas
Mad Forest is finally over. My brain says TTFN (ta ta for now). All of us are so exhausted from the mind-numbing process that our minds really do go numb - some of the Y&Wers actually do notice that this is my 'blonde' week. In the meantime, I just barely find time between Christmas prep to grab a couple of close friends out, i.e. the people I've neglected during the insanely busy period. Christmas comes - I'm sick. The day after Christmas, I finally get to meet dear Ruilian to give her her birthday present.
27 December - 11 January
I fly off to my sister's in northern California without realising that I haven't told many of my close friends where I'll be (they'll be the ones who are puzzled to call me and find my phone turned off). And here is where some friends get the wrong idea that I was away on holiday. I am with my entire family, and that is NEVER a holiday.
11 January - now
I reach home on a Friday and THAT's when my real break starts. I spend the following week getting over jet lag and finally resting after a mad last quarter. And the week that follows sees my mum arriving home. Sigh.
And now, I'm downright bored from the lack of work. Clients in the publishing industry seem to love to have overhauls at the beginning of the year, e.g. cutting back on issues, change of editors, etc. And in one spectacular case, one client simply disappearing, effectively stiffing me of more than $2,000 - I'll go stake out their office again very soon and see if I'll need (and can afford) to bring small claims proceedings against them.
Doesn't help that some friends are going through some serious shit in their love lives. I'm shuffling between worrying for them and wanting to slap a couple of them for emotional stupidity. My own singlehood isn't always fun - while I'm not actively looking, I am keeping open to suggestion, but the only suggestions are occasional light flirting and a handful of skanks and/or weirdos. Sigh again.
Being bored and semi-depressed is a bad combi. Makes me believe I'm lonely. Oh, and a suspicion that I'm falling ill - during a festive period AGAIN.
I need more work. Then I'll be happy again.
P.S. Photos akan datang.
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