How True

When there's no one else

look inside yourself

Like your oldest friend

Just trust the voice within...

by Christina Aguilera in "The Voice Within"

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Ageing

As the clock ticks, I wonder how one copes with ageing. Or more importantly, how well I would cope with ageing. Not that I am the 25 year-old I used to be. But a woman in her 30s is still pretty much considered "in her prime" in this day and age. So I suppose I could naively look at it as something of the future instead of the present.

Mum was at the beautician two days back and was told cruelly by the lady that her face is sunken, her skin is sagging, her age spots are prominent, her skin tone is uneven and just that much more than a woman could bear to hear. No doubt there might be some truth in those words but not many women would like to hear your honest opinions, especially if they are nasty. Trust me, when it comes to certain matters, we'd much rather live in blissful oblivion. As expected, Mum's esteem was crushed by a thousand-tonnes brick. It was like being stabbed many times in the heart and told "you're not good enough" by that unworthy jerk of a boyfriend.

I looked at myself in the mirror and began to notice those littlest things that had never been there. I believe I read somewhere, "ageing begins in your 20s". If that is the case, my body has been quietly ageing for 10 years now! The lady in the mirror has definitely put on a few years and added those extra pounds. But I suppose she hasn't yet changed drastically to warrant a panic attack from self.

Maybe another 10 years down the road, I would be feeling the same way as Mum and receiving similar hurtful remarks instead of self-assuring compliments. So starting today, I want to prep my body for some well-deserved compliments 10 years from now.

Ageing is such part and parcel of life. It is inevitable and sadly, beyond our control.

To age gracefully, is what I want to do.

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Stick it up your nose!

I've been hanging out with Mum rather often lately. Maybe that's because we only have each other for company when the rest goes off to work or goes out to play. How unsociable and hermit-like the two of us are, I simply couldn't deny.

I am also getting better at driving that once-traumatising manual automobile of Dad's. Now, Mum would happily chat away in the passenger seat as I chauffeur her around. Whether that is a good thing or not, I have yet to decide.

The clinic was packed with impatient-looking patients. Good thing our appointment had been made the day before and our doctor did not have as many patients as the other. Mum's nose had been acting up for the last 3 weeks. We sure did the right thing by coming in to the specialist today for "she has a very serious case of infection", the doctor said.

As Mum sat in front of the doctor for his examination, I realised one thing - everyone (even our mothers) is afraid of the doctor. Some may be afraid of the needle or the blood. Some may be afraid of taking medication. Or some may be afraid of the doctor prodding them with medical devices that seem to originate from Mars. But mostly - I believe - everyone is afraid of the news the doctor may deliver.

Mum was undoubtedly afraid. I would be too if someone were to poke this long tube up my nostril and suck out whatever mucus I have in there. Yes, the six-inch needle-like tube was intimidating and the mucus that came out was disgusting. But, it was a relief to know that Mum is going to be fine.

My occasional short excursions with Mum are becoming a lot more enjoyable than I could wish for. Somehow, being away from those same four walls that we face everyday has done both of us some good.

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Being a Bumble Bee

I knew it would be difficult, time-consuming and all about the details but I never knew it could be THIS tough! =(

It is not only tough. It is a nightmare. It is pure madness! Looking at alien codes, going back and forth between designs and layouts, excreting my barely-there creative juices for everything that is absolutely necessary and forgoing my beauty sleep.

The days are spent on that oh-so important job hunt - I surf the usual sites, type my usual cover letters, click the 'send' button on a regular basis, and attend an interview if I am lucky. "Can the market really be that bad or is it just me?", I begin to wonder.

The evenings and through the nights are spent on twigging the necessary. After two late nights of sleeping at 4 and 6 in the morning, it seems to be slowly coming together. Given the amount of time and effort needed, I question why others do it, or more accurately, how they did it. Then again, I am doing it alone - so that easily doubles (or even triples) the workload for me.

Even as I plough on with all my might, I am clueless as to how I would eventually pull everything together, if even at all. I have a vision in mind, the feasibility of which I am unsure. I have a passion in me, which whether it could ever turn into something big, I too am unsure. I will take my baby steps one at a time and see where the road leads me.

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Gorgeous Envy

Be gorgeous and the subject of every girl's envy...

Option 1: The beautiful crown-like motif would make a really nice emblem for the future endeavour.

Option 2: Simplicity is sometimes all the more alluring. The green leaf added that little bit of "oomph" amid the femininity.

Option 3: A more subtle version. But elegant and understated.

Option 4: Sophistication and girlish charm can sometimes go hand in hand. This one feels so French to me.

P/S: This is just a preview. The logos above were designed by me (erhem, that is the cue for compliments...). But it may never get into the development phase at all as I suck at designing a website!! Do keep it to yourself for the time being. =) If any information is leaked, I will know who it is!

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Lightly Devil-icious!

Fancy some Mango Yogurt Cake? It's light, not too sweet and uses non-fat yogurt. I believe it would have tasted better if I used good-quality sweet fresh mangoes. And oh, it tasted really much better when left overnight or even two...=)

Do not belittle this smallish devil - it is egg-free, dairy-free and absolutely light and devilish. It went well with the philly cream cheese (above) but I think it would have been heavenly with some freshly-whipped cream....=) Yummmm....

My next man, you better beware! I'll feed you up like big fat pig!! =) But fret not, never to be slaughtered, only to be cuddled...

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A First Time

Sundays have mostly been spent at home, lying on the couch and channel surfing. But today, I put my hands up for a volunteer program and made a trip down alone to a nearby town for some meaningful work.

"Apprehension" was the best word to describe how I felt when I reached the void deck. For I did not have in mind the proceedings for the day. The elderly were gathered at the void deck. They were mostly seated around the round stone table playing cards, while some were either scattered around in their little cliques or puffing away at that could-turn-into-ash-anytime cigarette stick with a vengeance.

Not many volunteers turned up for the event. But for those who turned up, we all had one thing in common - it was our first time. The auntie was surprised to see me - she thought I was 25 (I wish) - and asked, "What is a young girl like you doing here on a Sunday afternoon?" I didn't know charity work has something to do with age.

My initial idea of it being a big scale distribution turned out to be one of a scale that involved less than 50 households/elders. Not everyone who lives in a tiny one-room flat in that block receives a package from the club. Apparently, these residents are required to apply, be audited and evaluated by the club members and only given the green light if they pass the test.

As we stood at the void deck with our ration of bread, canned food, fruit, potatoes, green beans and even that tube of facial wash, the ah gongs and ah mas - who could only slowly shuffle their feet around - greeted us with their biggest smile and gratitude as they moved through the queue. Most of them are on their own - seemingly lonesome - extending that plastic bag for the little food we could offer. Amidst them was an old couple. The ah ma was all smiles and had her hand entwined in ah gong's arm. The sight brought warmth to my heart and a smile to my face. "It really is much better when you have someone to grow old with.", I thought.

I looked on and couldn't help but wonder what their life stories could be. Their wrinkled and freckled faces are evidence of the wears and tears of life. Where are their children or loved ones? Do they feel alone or afraid to be all by themselves at such an old age? I know I would. I just pray that I never have to face that one day.

Although the day's event wasn't on a grandeur scale, it gave me a sense of satisfaction on the grandest scale. Now that I have given my first time, it is more likely than not that there would be a second or third.

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Here's the Mess

Seriously, look at this mess! I spent 12 hours cleaning the mess on a Saturday =( Of course the above is just a fraction of the 3 boxes of mess that were delivered.

Left: This is a big box that contains clothes which I no longer want, taking up space in my cosy corner...Not to mention the 3 storage boxes packed to the brim with more clothes that are already sitting at the top of my wardrobe.

Trust me, I sometimes do look at my worldly possessions and wonder, "How the hell did I end up with so much stuff?!"

Some of them I have only worn a couple of times, some of them I have not laid my hands on for years, and some of them have never seen the light.

But everything's done and dusted. My room is back into it's original warm and cosy state now...=)

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It All Shall Pass

It seems, my life, has just been a journey of packing and unpacking, laughing and crying.

It was an absolute happy day for me yesterday - in fact, the happiest I have been since January this year. I thought I had everything going - an excellent score in my recent endeavour, a step closer to reaching my dream (albeit setting me back big time in terms of moolah) and much-needed love and attention from my beloved friends. On my way to collecting my results, I thought to myself, "Life is awesome! It could only get better."

But today, I am looking at those very things which should have come ages ago. Just hit me all at one go - I would have much preferred. For the last thing I need in my life right now is to relive those memories I am badly trying to shelf aside. It is simply not fair to let my wound heal a little only to tear it open again at regular intervals.

As I unpacked, I had the urge to cry. To let my tears flow and wallow in the past. As I rummaged through the boxes, little pieces came to light and those memories flowed. I looked out the window and took a deep breath. I swallowed my saliva and held back my tears.

I repeated to myself those wise words of someone - "If you do that, the only one suffering is you." How true. It is time I love myself more and give my tears and heart only to those who deserve.

But please, just let my wound heal wholly for once.

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The Man in my Dream

What should one do when she meets the man in her dreams?

Does she not care and walk away with an air of nonchalance? Or does she walk up to him and say hi so that the opportunity doesn't slip her by?

Sadly, the pride in me made me choose the first option this noon. And it is now killing me inside as I cringed with regret at my stupid decision. "Must the guy always make the first move?", I ask myself.

He was exactly like the man in my dream those few nights ago. The eye contact lingered and my knees almost buckled. Have you ever wondered how long an eye contact should linger before it is considered flirting or chemistry? I believe in the one-second rule (of mine) when in a relationship - it cannot last more than one second (two seconds tops). Anything between 3 to 5 seconds means some sparks are firing up between the pair.

"But how else was I supposed to do it?", I wonder. I haven't got the courage of a warrior, nor the confidence of Paris Hilton, or the killer looks of Heidi Klum. In fact, the second time I bumped into him, I walked as fast as I could as if I was running away.

Opportunities, once missed, may never knock twice. I can only bash myself for letting it slip by. Someone please, teach me how to grab the right one when it comes along!

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An Adventure with Mum

Can you remember the last time you went out shopping with your mum? I can't remember the last time I did that - it must have been ages ago when I was still young and impressionable.

It was Mum's day off and Dad left the car for us girls to exploit if we wish. Both sisters bailed out of the plan so it was just Mum and myself painting the town red.

First up was the temple in town. It sure was a hard and long journey from the north to the south. Mum is a total disaster when it comes to giving directions or pointing out the spots where Dad often parks when he drives her there. She is one of those who just sits in the car with an indifference to the surroundings or routes. The driver is on his or her own.

But we got there at last. Safe in one piece. Though not without some serious turning of wheel and changing of gears to get into that parallel parking lot on the street.

Mum and I, with incense in our hands, prayed for our heart's wishes. I drew a divine lot and had it explained by the old lady outside the temple - the lot could have been better but it wasn't the absolute worst and entirely hopeless. I bore in mind the words of the old lady. I am sure Mum did too.

After setting our minds at ease, we headed off for some much-desired shopping at Bugis Village. There, you can find everything - clothes, shoes, bags, accessories, food etc - at lovable low prices. The shopping queen in me was dying to come out. If I have a steady stream of income - erhem - I would have swept most of the stuff off the racks and shelves. But I don't, so I didn't.

Mum is the worst kind of shopping buddy. She would see something she likes - nice and affordable - only to put it back onto the rack and say, "Let's think about it and we'll come back later". Sure enough, as always, we never did. She looked so good in those few pairs of heels I just couldn't believe she didn't get any! And not to mention those few pieces of clothing we came across too. She should really see how her eldest daughter shops - seldom not to her heart's content. =) And if she wants to return another day, poor Dad would have to drive her there (again) and squeeze through the young crowd with her.

By the time we were done, it was half past six. We decided to drive back home and pick Dad up for dinner. The journey home, again, was quite a nightmare. I missed so many turns we had to send a distress signal to Dad. It took us an hour to get home when it could have been only half that time. But it was good. It gave us (or more so, Dad) a chance to have a good laugh about it over dinner.

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I Promise I Speak Well

I had the feeling that it wasn't going to be easy today. It wasn't difficult to come to that conclusion given I have been hibernating at home, and have not had any contact with the outside world for months. I wouldn't have expected myself to be able to hold a proper conversation with someone, let alone, ace the test.

As I suspected, there was a very good reason why the test was held at the council instead of the previous exam venue. Of course, they would want a native English speaker to test your skills more than anyone else. My tester was very tall. I must admit he was really attentive for he turned the air-conditioner down the moment he heard me sniffing away. But other than that, he was so cold - I shall call him a "cold fish". He had very few expressions throughout the test, and definitely doesn't enjoy smiling. I was hoping for a two-way conversation but mostly, it was me doing the talking. I suppose that's why it's called a test, and he's the tester and I'm the candidate.

His questions were easy. My given topic was also easy. But I was nervous. Very indeed. I swore I could hear myself so clearly. Have you ever been in a room that is so quiet that you could almost hear your thoughts out loud? I felt that way in the examination room today. I could hear myself talking, my thoughts aloud, and my heart thumping amidst the frequent sniffles. Worse still, the tape recorder was running and that self-consciousness was magnified.

But, I promise I speak English well. If only he could mark me based on my promise.

Despite the nervousness and occasional awkward pauses, I am so glad this is over. Finally, I could heave a sigh of relief and commence the next most important step. All I have to do now is wait for the results.

Seriously, I will smack myself I ever go back to studying! If I really do that, I must have been either under some powerful spell or the wrongful impression that I would be better at studying with age. The pressure of exams and results should be a matter of the past, and definitely cease at the age of 30!

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