What makes an Auntie

I met one of my older friends who is now with 2 lovely kids, one aged two and a half and the other... about one. ( I figured that I lost my connection with kids. Some people looks so amazed at them and just cant help but play with them and make them smile. Is this a sign that I'm growing old?) Anyway, she introduced me and my friends to her kids, " This is uncle ____ and this is Auntie JT." O_o

For the first time, someone called me an Auntie. Usually, ppl call me xiao mei. Once in a blue moon, xiao jie. And now, Auntie. Not in the joking kind of way which we girls laugh at each other for "ooing and aaaahing" at all the cheap sales. It's auntie coz I've hit the age about a generation from her kid. That's about 18 years. Only. Hey, I'm not even twenty yet. At least not till 3 months later. Don't call me an auntie ok.

Haha. Then again, face it lah. 18yrs is quite a big gap. If I were to see a 40yr old lady now, I'd feel strange to call her by name or as ___ jie. Auntie sounds a bit more respectful. On the other hand, the stereotyped image sometimes associated with aunties can be interesting ... Haggling in the market over the prices of vegetables (and now eggs)... hanging those red plastic bags on their elbows and trying to kiap their wallets between their elbow and waist so that both hands can be free to hold more plastic bags... being very thrifty and goes for the best buys in town... fashion-wise, some people would say there's something distinctively "auntie" about them. Quoting from a friend, "You'll know when you see one."

I think ladies who are mothers wouldn't mind being called an auntie even if they are young... like in their twenties. But if the ladies are single 30s and 40s... I still feel a little reserved about calling them aunties. Especially if "you know they are not when you see them". Just go hello lah. And tap them. haha. Sometimes, I'd just jokingly call some of my older friends ___ jie -- a term of cute endearment.

There's nothing wrong with aunties. In fact, girls, if you to ever get bullied on the bus or in the shopping centres, they will be the ones to stand up for you! (Remember the bus rides and all the nice aunties I mentioned?) When the time comes... when I'm way past my 20th birthday and I come under the "you know when you see one" category, call me auntie if you like.

Fight. STOP. MOVE.

Have you ever felt the struggle within, knowing that this is something you hafta do and ought to do but you don't want to do it? And the next thing you know, you become a runaway, trying to escape from it, all the while hearing that little voice telling you to stop fighting and to do what's to be done. And you know that doing what you need to gives the utmost satisfaction and delight with no regrets... yet you just don't want to go through the tedious process and overcome that frightening load of inertia. That's how it feels like to go through life struggling against God's will, against the Spirit's promptings, against the Word. You hear the Spirit, but you quench and you grieve the Spirit. You run. You disobey. You try to look for your own share of worldly fun that appeals to the whole idea of freedom and no-commitment. But true freedom comes when you find freedom in the boundaries that keep you free from the nagging voice of the conscience... of the Spirit. Quit struggling, please. It's tiring. Move with God and move mountains. I surrender it all. I stop. I put down that heavy baggage that drags and gnaws at my heart and I start to follow Jesus again. I'm sorry I tried so hard to run in circles. The cross is heavy but I know I'm not carrying it alone.

Late Night out

I did something out of character. Wasn't expecting it. At 930pm, I was ready to go home... until huh? They wanted to see gays. Okie loh. So I followed my friends along Orchard and stopped juz somewhere opp hard rock cafe. Uhuh. GOSh. Sleazy man... scantily clad girls... trasvestites... n sleazy men... and ppl giving out packets of stuff to selective groups of people. (Make a guess what... they were muttering "underaged" when they saw my friends and I) Hmmm. Not a good place to be in.

Change of location. Connection connection. My rugger classmate knows the owner of Devil's bar. Some long story about bankruptcy and making a comeback, setting up Zouk and Devil's bar... and putting Devil's bar under the son's name blah blah. And so there we were. Devil's bar. Supposedly to be a strict place which is clean. Got a snowball that tasted creamy, seven-upish and chery-ish. Bourbon coke smells too strong... but Tequila sunrise is pretty fruity yummy. Snowballs good. Sunday night is some... erm... Cantonese song night, but ended off with good music. Stoned around eating fries, calamari and snowball. Nothing much. Loud music and sitting around. Music too loud for conversation. Saw an angmoh trying to pick up two girls. Saw two girls who looked like they're erm... les... and from the way they dance... they look drug-high. hmmm. Nothing much there. And I've gota check the time... gota rush back home. Late, way late. Left at 11.15pm.

Rushed to the MRT. Made it on the train with my friends.... And when I was alone with one of my friends, we started talking and he suddenly came to the realisation, "You're a Christian?!"
He asked why... and I couldn't really give an answer. He asked how. He said it would be hard for him to convert. He felt that religion was to each his own. Talked about church... tongues... slaying, faith-healing... and I was home. Bid my goodbyes.

But it started me thinking. Yah, what's my answer... it's been a long journey. a long long journey in someways. Time to reflect, sit back, take heart on my long journey...and have the answer ready, in all gentleness n respect.

PS: If there's one thing I really don't like about going to such places, it's the smell.. that smokey smell that gets stuck in ur hair. eeeeeeks.

My Life is Not my own

Thank God that I live!

45mins ago, in tiredness and daze, I dragged my feet home from the MRT station. Green man up, I crossed the road. Vehicles stopped. A few motorcycles cut across the road in front of me. Green man blinking, Blinking. I walked, dragged my feet. Blinking Blinking. Roaring of vehicles.

BUMP. JERK. I jumped.

I looked left and saw the taxi up close beside me. A blur of faces stared at me from inside the taxi. The taxi had just braked in time The inertia caused the sharp bump at the side of my bag. Shocked.

I walked on, the taxi driver drove off, I checked that the green man was still blinking. Blinking.

Heart racing, thumping thumping. If I had slowed down a few seconds more, the taxi would have rammed right into me. If I had taken a few paces to the left, I'd be knocked down. If the taxi driver hadn't jammed the brakes in time, I'd be no more.

Thank God for His Protection!

My life is not my own. If God had decided it was time, I'd be gone. But I'm still here. I have not finished the race and God still has plans for me here on earth. My life is not my own and I live for Jesus alone.

Green Memories
Yellow leaves spiralling down from age-old trees
With the touch of every breeze
A dazzle of yellow and green
Serene

Weddings

The common void deck was transformed into a lovely yellow, gold and white themed dining area. Lilies and roses and white table cloth poshed up the place. The beautiful and smiling Malay bride was clad in glamourous gold and white, dainty and pretty as can be. There she was, waiting for her groom to come. She's really pretty and the joy radiates from within. At the rthymic sound of drums, I turned to see a crowd of Malay well-wishers welcoming the groom and the rest of the procession to the dining area. He was smiling too. Smart-looking and happy, but a tad bit shy.

Well, my view was pretty much blocked after that, but the drums, the occasional chant-like songs and the joyous atmosphere made it a happy wedding. The bride's mum, my neighbour, was delighted to have us there. She was full of smiles and warmth and was a really good host. Food wise, yummy. Malay cuisine with yummylicious cakes and pastries. We're given delicate hand-made baskets with sweets and ribbons. So pretty. Heard there's supposed to be eggs in the basket... but erm, with the chicken problem and eggs shortage... ah well. I do wonder what's the significance of giving out the eggs in nicely-decorated baskets.

My malay neighbours are a warm and friendly bunch. Their daughter's really pretty too :) And I do wonder what's the significance of the procession and the little basket... It's quite nice to be in a multi-racial society after all. I'm enjoying the diversity. :) Waiting for my Indian friends to get married too... heez. Haven't been to an Indian wedding yet :)

I think love drives people crazy. I'm talking about those attraction kinda love between opposite species. As a sideline observer who's supposed to know some stuff on an underground basis and who is supposed to know not more than that, I really think it's crazy. Talking on the handphone for hours (like close to 24hours)... falling sick and refusing to get out of bed... and yet remaining healthy enough to lie in bed to laugh and smile on the phone. I think that sounds overly head-over-heels-drive-you-nuts-madness. Handphone, MIND YOU. And you're not the one footing the bills. And upon experiencing those fireworks and sparks, you've decided to heck the disgustingly huge phone bill and all the scolding from parents and decided to cover it up with some lame project excuse. Does that happen to all people? Huh. Yeah, I'm sounding like an antagonized ant ready to sink my pincer-like jaws into those who are about to say there's nothing wrong with being head-over-heels like that. Sure, I can be more reasonable and starting putting myself into other's people shoes. At the moment, and being helplessly antagonized, it just sounds too selfish to want to have a world of your own. Say what you want. This is the spot where I blog it out.

Crap-a-Rap-a-Wreck
(reads: Rubbish)

I party
I find out
I dig
I Excavate
I Solve
RPG made real.

Run around
Rock the town
Crap it up
Live it down
Smack the wall
Feel the fall
It’s over.
Game over.

Oh what crap.

Stony Enjoyment

Gentle breeze blowing... Clouds moving, skyscrapers standing... Me sitting on the bench, fountain of wealth not flowing... Stoning. Another enjoyable period of restful nothingness. Just staring ahead with the city skyscrapers looking solidly majestic. No push, No pull, No people. I wasn't bothered by them and they weren't bothered by me. In the heart of the city with the traffic buzzing about, I found the cozy slowness in pace there and then--the same comfortable doing-nothingness I felt at the Botanic Gardens.

Toilets Must NOT:
1) Have doors that cannot be closed or locked properly.
2) Have doors that are stuck upon closure.
3) Lack hooks on the door for ppl to hang their bags.
4) Lack Toilet paper.
5) Have overly powerful flushes that flush the surroundings as well.
6) Have automatic flushes that flush while a person is still using the toilet facilities.
7) Have taps that don't work properly (ie. ever- running taps, no tap, spoilt taps, over-powerful rush of water from taps)
8) Lack dust bins.

*the above is made on observation of a particular toilet in town.*

All by myself

And I actually enjoyed it. I think I've forgotten to enjoy a lot of things. I thought everything was grey. Grey. Dull. Bleak. Gloomy. But I guess it wasn't so bad... up the straight road, past the bend and right into the botanic garden. Cool luscious green leaves, sweet-smelling grasses plus the rush-gush-rush of mini rapids were pleasing for the senses, and the soul perhaps. The groups of joggers and morning-walkers weren't exactly part of the solitude package that I was looking for... but they were ok. They weren't bothered by me, and I wasn't very much bothered by them.

I picked a good, old wooden bench in front the trees (and a half under renovation pond) and did nothing. Well, for a while...till my phone vibrated. Such technology felt strangely out of place here. I chucked it aside and just sat there. Alone, and feeling very comfortable. There's no one to distract me, nothing to disturb me and it felt good to be quiet and just sitting there, enjoying everything.

The clouds were moving pretty fast up there and occasional blue patches of sky peeped at me... The palm trees stood out prettily against the sky and there were interesting vines that entangled strong and steady old trees. The little black birds spread their tail feathers out and did a little dance on the green patches. A yellow hummingbird flitted between the flaming yellow and red flowers... small black ants were creeping up and down my bench. I just sat there, tracing the curves of the hills and noticing how the landscape blended into each other.

I was reminded of Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies prolcaim the work of His hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.

-- Psalm 19:1-4


My Dream Job

No.1
On my way out of Botanic Garden, I thought, my ideal job would be one where I can just stand in awe of nature and write about the enjoyment I find in them. Then I'd publish my book together with illustrations of inspiring scenes and live on the royalty fees before I come up with my next book. No deadlines, No push, No pull. And I'd get to travel and see the beauty that has been set on earth. What I write comes from the enjoyment and meaning that flows out from the within.

No.2
Dream job no.2? To open an art shop like Prints at Citylink. I love that shop and all the papers and books and cards. And I'd be happy coming up with more paper products. Not for money's sake, but for art's sake. But no. 1 dream job would still be the inspiring Nature book writer.

Dwelling in Blurness

What more can I say. Jumped up at the sound of the alarm clock, rushed out of the house, dashed across the road with the green man flashing, forced my way up the bus, nearly got squashed at the door and secretly patted myself on the back for being a teeny bit earlier than usual.

And I couldn't be more dumb.

I took the wrong bus. Ended at the wrong stop. Rushed to change another bus. Waited for what felt like forever and when I finally arrived, it was perhaps better that I didn't. Dumb and Dumber. What's gotten into me.

The Day after Tomorrow

Angered Angst
Betrayed Betrayal
Boiling on the double
Brewing up a wall
Boil the hot fuse
Cool the supression
An ice block and
A relational igloo

Experimentalipae Report

Observation
After 48hrs, lips return to normal state.

Conclusion
Mild allergy to lipbalm B (bodyshop's born lippy). However, a repeat of the experiment is recommended for more accurate results.

(Date of experiment is not fixed as yet.)

Everything's grey.

Racing mind. Restless thoughts. What lulled me to sleep was the sound of nature. The soothing, rhythmic croon of those little night creatures somehow set me at ease. Nature, and all the harmony that seemed associated with it, perhaps reminded me of peace. Peace in the relaxed, calm, restful sense. I slept well and only awakened to remember the drudgery that followed the days, which are all very well painted in grey.

All I know and dwell on in biology--the harmony and the altruistic nature of cells-- appear to be an ideal that is now tainted with grey in the bigger picture. Mutated forms of cellular life that migrate and fester are but part of the bleak greyness. In the individual that harbours that broken biological harmony, there is still a greater conflict: That between the will and the heart. Between the individuals, mutual relations collapse. We do not understand each other. We do not know nature as we think we do. Nature and that natural peacefulness is part of a pretty picture. But look, there's grey beneath it. Weeds going against crops. Competition for survival. Plant diseases. It's all grey.

Plant against Plant. Animal against Animal. Man against Man. Man against God. Do some permutation and combination. And the right combinations will be Plant and Animal against Man. and Man against God. This is a broken world.

I fail to remember the hope that lies at the end of the road. A promise unclaimed. A beautiful promise that seems distant and unreal. Too good to be true and too far to be tangible. I know it's true but the grey clouds me out.

Get up and reach out, for it has been promised that this broken world will be no more. Clean off the grey and remember that you are the salt and light of the world.