to people who choose a lifetime of serving mad kids

While the Good Lord was creating teachers, He was into His sixth day of 'overtime' when the angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around with this one."

And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order? She has to stand above all her students, yet be on their level, be able to do 180 other things not connected with the subject she teaches, run on coffee, cokes, and leftovers, communicate vital knowledge to thousands of students daily, and be right, have as much, and sometimes more, time for her job as she does for herself, have a smile that can endure everything from practical jokes to pay cuts, go on teaching when parents question her every move and the administration doesn't understand, and have six pairs of hands.

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... not possible."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord. "It's the three pairs of eyes that teachers have to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

The Lord nodded. "One pair that can see a student for what he is and not what society has labeled him. Another pair must be in the back of her head, to see what she shouldn't, but what she has to know. OF course, the ones here in front can look at a child when he goofs up and reflect, 'I understand and I still believe in you.' without so much as uttering a word."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve gently, "Come to bed. Tomorrow…"

"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who comes to work when she is too sick, can still teach a class when they don't want to learn, loves thousands of children that are not her own and all of this in both sexes. And wait until you see my Special Ed teacher! She is truly special; she will never take anything her students do for granted."

The angel circled the model of the teacher very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this teacher can do or endure."

"Can she think?"

"Not only can she think, but she can reason and compromise."

Finally the angel bent over and ran her fingers across the cheek of the teacher. "There's a leak," she pronounced." I told you that you were putting too much into this model. You can't imagine the stress factor."

The Lord moved in for a closer look and gently lifted the drop of moisture to His finger where it glistened and sparkled in the light."It's not a leak," He said. "It's a tear."

"A tear?" asked the angel. "What's it for?"

"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, compassion, pain, loneliness and pride."

"You are a genius," said the angel.

The Lord looked somber.

"I didn't put it there."

the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal

Essentially, the WSJ article provided an insightful look into how Asian countries, especially South Korea which is long known for its ‘workaholism’, have responded to the 5-day work. The story led with an account of a South Korean housewife lamenting the fact that her husband was now at home on Saturdays and how his presence has made her life more miserable since he seemed to have absolutely no idea about what to do with his day off, leaving his wife to make even more domestic decisions and having to meet more of his unreasonable demands. This situation, the WSJ said, was common as it highlighted the fact that many Koreans are unnerved by the prospect of not going to the office on Saturdays and are deeply uncomfortable because they just do not know what to do with themselves with the time off.

To help their perplexed workers make the most of their free time, some companies have gone to the extent of organising ‘leisure club’ activities and have appointed ‘leisure counsellors’ for these workers, just so that they fill the empty Saturdays. In fact, many South Korean men are stressed by the time off, and worry about the economic burden leisure time is imposing on them, since they now have to worry about higher expenses necessitated by more family outings. One unnamed white-collar South Korean worker summarised, “I am beginning to realise that feeling guilty, staying long hours, and not knowing how to rest is part of our legacy.”

“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that counts. It’s the life in your years.” Abraham Lincoln

profound thoughts from a friend

Reputation (名誉) is what people think you are

Personality (性格) is what you seem to be

Character (个性) is what you really are

another harebrained scheme

Join 5 Takes!
In under 150 words, tell us why you should be a TJ in the next season of 5 Takes

To say that I have a passion for travel is simply putting it really mildly. I have spent every spare time possible traveling around Asia. There have been trips to eastern China, Taiwan, Malaysia, Cambodia and parts of Thailand and Vietnam. Being of mixed heritage with Chinese and Indian parents, I am also effectively bilingual (Mandarin and English).

There are many other reasons why I should be a TJ in the next season of 5 Takes. Some of them include being tech-savvy, having a flair for writing and a background training in mass communications. Then, there are the personality traits like being sociable, resourceful and adventurous.

But more importantly, being a travel journalist requires one to be the eyes and legs of the community that lives and breathes through his/her every experience as if it is their very own. I believe I have what it takes to be that person.

*I did it! I actually signed up to be a travel journalist! One never ceases to be amazed by the number of harebrained schemes I manage to come up with. And now, I wait*

a little patience goes a long way

There are many who actually read these mishmash ramblings of mine. And then there are many more who have lamented, either publicly or in private, the pseudo demise of the lack of refreshing new words to read.

For the record, I like to write but the laziness in me hinders the timely updates on cyberspace. So grit and bear with it. Every once in a while, your patience will be rewarded by an onslaught and when that happens, don’t grouse. Haven’t you heard that creative people tend to border on psychotic and temperamental?

complication

Haven’t you realised that we tend to complicate things as we grow older. Seems like there are more gray areas than there are of black and white. When did the simple life get so convoluted?

sidelined

it’s quite a refreshing change to sit and listen for a change. Perhaps getting sidelined every once in a while isn’t such a bad idea either. It’s only when you take a step back do you realize that there are so many things you tend to miss out when you are so self-absorbed in front of the pack. The little gestures, the little smirks, the grins, the ever bubbling giggles bursting forth at each silly antics displayed. How could I have missed out on all that? Has being a leader really dulled my basic senses and instincts? By slowing down and refusing to get work done, doesn’t equate to sloth and defiance. It’s a conscious effort to start thinking about what’s really important in my life.

At the sidelines, you see the things that escape your fleeting scans. The quiet teachings of children teaching each other. Their refreshing honesty. Why is it every time I think of leaving, there’ll always be something that makes me stop to think about my decision. Is this God’s way of a gentle rebuke? Is he telling me that I’m already where he wants me to be but I’m the one who’s trying to get that whiff of “fresh” air. It’s been a rocky 3 years. There has been ups and downs, the highs and the lows. At times like this, I wonder whether I’ve been doing the teaching or vice versa. There have been so many humbling moments in my life, where they seem to know more and in their quiet obtrusive way and childlike faith, sometimes, the truth is also much clearer through their eyes, actions and thoughts. I have been humbled and brought to my knees by people half my size and a fraction of my age. The quiet humor of my Lord, I cannot help but smile.

And yet I see the silent questions in their eyes and on their lips. Their steely unwavering gaze of their eyes and the lines of determination creased on their foreheads.

getting tired

Sometimes, I find it’s much easier to just find someone and get married, “buy” a place (yeah right. 99 year lease), have kids, grow older (hopefully with the same guy) and then go home to meet my maker aka die.

And then again, the stubborn feminist streak in me is stirred up to debunk those seemingly weak-willed dependency thoughts and chastise me for such inclinations since I’ve been brought up to think for myself and not rely on others.

But there are times when being on the top is really lonely business ’coz there seems to be no space at all for anyone else.

It’s been so peaceful lately. Just like the calm before a storm. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn out to be the eye of the storm instead.

arrival

You know you’ve arrived when you are able to fully comprehend and understand the intricacies of being pregnant and start spending more time poring over Thomas the train catalogue and the toy section in department stores than stuff of your own.

s.h.a.o.w.e.i

I honestly have no idea what’s so great about him. Well, he’s really tall. Has a great smile and oh, those to-die-for dimples... yeah, tell me about it. I’m a HUGE sucker for dimples. But then, he talks way too much. Rubbish in fact. And please don’t start me on his silly antics. But I’m still drawn to him. Is it because one’s eyesight really does deteriorate as one ages? Tis a frightening thought. Or maybe coz I’ve always felt sorry for the underdog. Perhaps when I’m actually free, I should do a rundown of the cute guys I’ve ever liked and see whether there’s some sort of running likeness traits. But for now, just live with my present crush yah?

Excerpt from a highly disgruntled fan:
“This is sickening. In MVP情人, Shao Wei isn't as good in ball skills. In 西街少年, he's the jailed one. In 格斗天王, he's beaten to a pulp. In 王子变青蛙, Ye Tianyu doesn’t want him and then he has to take care of a mental patient. In 愛情魔髮師, he gives all to Xiaobei but she likes Yasi. KNS.”

Psalm 23

*an adaptation for the workplace*

The Lord is my real boss, and I shall not want. He gives me peace, when chaos is all around me. He gently reminds me to pray and do all things without murmuring and complaining.

He reminds me that he is my source and not my job. He restores my sanity everyday and guides my decisions that I might honor him in all that I do.

Even though I face absurd amounts of e-mails, system crashes, unrealistic deadlines, budget cutbacks, gossiping co-workers, discriminating supervisors and an aging body that doesn't cooperate every morning, I still will not stop for He is with me. His presence, His peace, and His power will see me through.

He raises me up, even when they fail to promote me. He claims me as His own, even when the company threatens to let me go. His Faithfulness and love is better than any bonus check.

His retirement plan beats every CPF there is. When it's all said and done, I'll be working for Him a whole lot longer and for that,

I WILL BLESS HIS NAME!

dinner@onefullerton

It’s been a nice long dinner. Scottish layout, English dining style. Albeit a tad boring initially though. But it’s a refreshing change from the normal noisy overfeeding Chinese dinners one is so used to. However, I’m kind of languishing from the obvious lack of robust human communication. But I’ve got to admit that the food is really awesome. Tandoori cod fillet. *droolz* Now that is what I call a piece of delectable edible art.

beyond the surface

In this day and age, when everything seems to be falling apart, it’s amazing that one’s value system still has the ability and capacity to stand its own and not have fallen apart or has it? Really. Is it just a facade which portrays an image that one wants to see but in reality, the rot and dampness has already gotten to the core and heart of the system. Hence, the pseudo image that one conjures so as to pacify one’s inner self and peace of mind.

stargazing

9:35 AM
It’s so darn exhilarating. I’m going for my first ever singing/meet-the-popstars session. So I’m not doing any overnight queue thingy but it’s so exciting anyway. The droolable guys. The screaming fans. The sweaty bodies mashed together in a hot, temperature-rising place. Then again, maybe not. So today, I’m a tad espionage.

12:50 AM
It’s quite fun really. Stuck under a pretty red umbrella, sitting equally pretty. The bum hurts terribly though. Hope I didn’t overstress my tailbone. It’s almost one and the sun’s getting merciless. Time really flies when you’re doing no-brainer stuff like this. To think I used to diss such stuff. Have a nagging feeling those chaps are going to be late. *sigh*

fishy business

*a tribute to monsieur yellow tang fish*

dearly beloved,
we are gathered together to remember the short dismal lives of mr yellow tang fish. no, not just mere fish were they. they were friends, soul mates, comrades-in-arms. in short, brothers in very sense of the word. at $35 apiece, it was way expensive kinship I must say. but then, who are we to comment on the minute value placed on the greater love felt? today, we celebrate the short-lived journey and sudden passing of the ill-fated mr yellow tang fish and to condemn the lousy third-rate fish shop that they were procured from. they will be sorely missed, heart and pocket. may they contribute richly to the plant eco-system.

mayday mayhem

It took me 4 hrs to get settled and start work proper. Mind you. I was home today and not at the workplace. And all I had planned to finish doing today was to clear my clothes. Fold, iron, the works. Ya, clothes. Just pieces of colourful cloth. Not to imagine expensive. I used to think the best solution to one’s dwindling clothes situation was to get new ones. That was, until today.

I’m now saddled with a HUGE mountain to clear. Whatever was I thinking? Another hair-brained idea gone awry. Me thinks me so have to stop buying clothes… NAH. I almost succumbed to a weak moment of folly. Shopping will always be a woman’s prerogative. I’d say AMEN to that.

maybe baby

It seems, of late, the latest accessory to have is a baby. A must have apparently. Everyone’s getting one. From the who’s who in high pooh pooh society to the ordinary woman on the street. Anyone and everyone you meet these days either have one, is having one or trying to have one. And then what?

Erm… apparently, these things aren’t returnable. Neither do they come with a manual nor are they covered with a warranty of any sorts. And there definitely isn’t a money-back guarantee. And boy, do they cost an arm and a leg. And still, they’re flying off the shelves. One wonders why.

age acceleration

I’m feeling my age. Really. So quit laughing will ya. work. dinner party. choir. buying trip. rugby sevens. funeral wake. I’m totally completely whacked out. Even the adrenaline isn’t flowing.

Haven’t you gotten to a point when your age starts creeping up on you and pounces when you least expect it? There has to be a point when your body sends that all important signal that it’s time to slow down and quit pushing yourself too fast and too hard. So beneath the teeny-bopper clothes or lifestyle that we try so desperately hard to emulate, our body is growing older by the nano-second.

I’m thinking it only accelerates as the years go pass.

a life of firsts...

I’m getting into a terrible habit of writing on fast food tray liners. It’s MOS Burger Causeway Point today and they’ve got this lovely picture of their latest gratin créme burger. Too bad I’m not hungry right now.

Come to think of it, it’s my first time in this place. It’s been here for at least the last 2 years and I do believe I’ve never set foot in here. Why not? Why never?

And that got me thinking. Isn’t life full of firsts? The first time we fell in love. The first time we went to school. The first time we got our paycheck. Weren’t those great moments? Albeit all the tears and cheers?

When did we stop being happy and excited with new experiences? When did the dreariness of life start to dull our senses and bog us down? When did we stop feeling and seeing? When did it become almost suicidal to speak our mind?

Perhaps it’s easier when one compartmentalizes our thoughts, feelings and actions. The love goes here and then the happiness there and oh yeah, let’s squeeze in some grief in this little corner. There! All packed and stacked.

Has life been degraded to such a stage? I think mine has hit the rut and heading towards the downslide. Yours too?

trudging through angst

I sit here all prepared to write. My pen posed in mid-air and I don’t know how to start. The bane of a writer. But then again, I’m not a writer. Not yet.

It’s the perfect environment. I’ve got the Singapore River on my right, Shenton Way behind me, a cool breeze, a rattan chair, an umbrella to shade me from the scorching sun, a fruit tea and a slice of walnut brownie cheesecake and for a split second, I’m conned into believing there’s nothing wrong with my life.

So there is nothing wrong with my life. There’s something wrong with me. Every once in a while I evaluate myself. Fear. Is everyone afraid of being free? I panic wherever I have free time. Pockets of pure luxury and I hit the panic button frantically. For a brief moment, I hyperventilate as my mind races on about the multitude of things I’m not doing. I’m frightened that when my hands are idle, I think. Think of the very things that I try so hard to forget.

My mum says I’m angry. I think I’m perpetually angry. By working, I keep my anger away. Apparently. By being busy, I cease to have time to ponder on these issues. By staying on my feet, I run away. How far must I run when enough becomes enough? When will I ever be far away enough?

I have issues. Do I change my job? Is there something else in the big unknown? Am I missing out by not moving? Can I really map out what I want, when I want? I’m stuck in a rut and I don’t fucking know how to get out of it.

People I know will just smack me on the head and tell me to wake up. Smell the roses. See the clear blue sky. Breathe in the fresh air. I have a great job that I love and a pretty decent paycheck. No attachments. I live a charmed life. Have I no idea what contentment is?

I’m starved for knowledge and I hate change. I was in the cab today and it drove past Cathay building. The utter horror. The monstrosity of the building. A concrete slab devoid of feelings. I nearly wept. Where was the peeling paint? The aged walls? The warmth and intimate closeness one feels from a piece of architecture that holds more than mere faded fragments of days gone past?

I’m losing my past, whether I like it or not. They’ve taken away my Plaza Singapura, my National Library, my Cathay building. Heck! They’ve even taken away my primary school. Am I still clinging onto the past because of my fear of the future? Is it inhibiting my ability to see beyond? Does everyone go through the same thing or am I just alone in this?

It drizzled for a short moment just now. Fleeting. And suddenly, the sun didn’t seem all that hot anymore. The scorching heat had retreated to a lazy afternoon warmth. Is life like that? Do the occasional rain spells cool it and make it more bearable? Must life be bearable? Or is it an angst that all must trudge through? I’ll let you know when I reach the end of the tunnel.

Truth is, I think I’ve barely stepped in.