Every Morning Should Be A Blessing

No, I can't seem to blog lately. Aside from being too busy, I've been a black mass of negative emotions shot through with nostalgia.

So I'll just take a little time off until I have time to sort out my own thoughts, and put them down in words, on my own terms, in my own time.

Seems like the people around me are getting married, having kids, hooking up with new partners, settling down. In a way, that scares me, because I'm starting to feel old, something I've not really had any reason to worry about previously.

Also, a friend from Curtin, whom I've not seen in years, has been battling cancer for almost two years. He's currently getting a stem-cell transplant, which also happens to be his last chance at beating the cancer that seems to be insistent on colonizing and destroying his body. Spoke to him recently, felt a little heartbroken and helpless wishing I could say more to him than what he's probably heard from everyone, and felt more painfully aware of my own mortality than I have in yonks.

All in all, yeah, I need to catch my breath a bit, and think harder about what I really want in life. Time seems to be running out, all of a sudden.


A Home is Not Just A House

It's now 8.30am. I've been up since before 7.

I've managed to drive myself home, packed my things, clean house a bit, and then shower, after spending the night at a very drunk turtle's house, not out of an altruistic need to take care of him, but because the churning in my stomach indicated that I'd had to much to drink myself (actually had quite a fair bit more than him, due to being utter shite at playing drinking games lol), and would benefit from a R & R at his house until the sensation of bloatedness went away.

Didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time I tried driving home with a funny tummy from too much alcohol. I never made it home. Pulled up in front of a friend's house halfway, to throw up all over his driveway, and spent the rest of the night feeling very miserable because of the wasted very expensive steak dinner that'd made a reappearance all over said driveway.

But I digress. I'm tip-tapping here on Blogger at this hour, because I'm sitting here feeling vaguely subdued, because today marks the end my five-night "house-sitting" stint, and I feel like I've nowhere to really go home to.

I quite like this house I've been spending my nights away from home in, because it reminds me of the house I used to rent when I was in Miri. Small, practical, simple, in a slightly desolated neighbourhood. Quiet. With only myself for company.

It's not as lonely as it sounds. All those years of living away from home has made me appreciate the silence of an empty house. Coming back was traumatising, never managed to get used to the constant chatter and suddenly explosive rages of my mother.

A friend offered her house, which would be vacant for a few days while she went on a much needed holiday, knowing how miserable I was getting, and this house-sitting stint was more an excuse to escape all the chaos and sound of home than anything else. I feel almost like I'm regaining some semblance of sanity, without the constant noise and the angry accusations and admonishments of home.

How is it, that my own home doesn't feel like home? This almost feels like I'm running away from home again, never mind the reasons I give to make it seem like otherwise.



So very.


I know I am very OCD and very annoying sometimes because of that, but it really does hurt that you just snap at me when all I've been trying to do is think ahead a few steps so I can come up with some semblance of a solution a little earlier... Because I like having solutions on hand instead of feeling utterly lost without any idea on how to proceed.

Maybe having an over-active potty-mouth connected to a neurotic worrisome brain isn't the very best combination for your strained patience sometimes, but I thought you knew me enough already to understand that I wasn't trying to get on your nerves.

Maybe a little silence on my part would be beneficial.

Feeling subdued and distinctly untalkative now.


I Know Idealism Isn't Quite Me, But...

So far work's been a stressful, exhilarating, exciting, scary, exhausting, informative experience. I've been grinning like a Chesire cat throughout, despite the somewhat steep learning curve - I've not once felt the tedious boredom that has been consuming me for the better part of a year in all these weeks, and all this knowledge to absorb so quickly has kick-started my dormant brain-cells into working over-time.

Was always terrified of the dearth of creativity and the shortage of new things to learn about, and with all this flurry of activity and planning and writing and more planning and phone-calls and meet-ups and finding out about the little details and the behind-the-scene things of mundane matters that I never thought much about I'm bouncing around in stressed-out overjoyed mania.

And all this, just doing free-lance work which doesn't feel much like work, just a session in applying known skills to practical use. I start a salaried job next week, which I'm very sure will be highly stressful and not quite as fun - it's in events, for a club, but I've reasons (which I won't elaborate on in case I pull a Dooce) to think that I'll probably earn myself some tongue-lashing in due time, but I'm so excited to start!

I know I sound remarkably like an over-enthusiastic, idealistic greenhorn, and I'm aware things won't always be such a positive experience, but for a long time in my life there's been no aim and no self-satisfaction in the things I've been doing, and right now, things have taken a hundred-eighty degree turn and I've been happier than I've been in a long time.

Or maybe this is just the other end of the spectrum of my very variable mood-swings (this week-long crazy-happy-meth-high-esque headiness confirms that suspicion), but like I've always said, the mania bit of my bipolar disorder has always been the most agreeable silver lining of my affliction.

I must say though, my IBS doesn't quite agree with all this excitement. I get really bad rumbly tummy before AND after meetings, the former from apprehension at the outcome, and the latter probably from the relief PLUS the worry from the new issue of how to proceed from then on. Even a controlled diet doesn't quite prevent the incidences of running to the toilet with my guts almost spilling out anymore.

Hot, hazy weather's making me feel ill too. Started getting migraines on my first day because of the unbelievably humid, dusty conditions, and then very bad nausea and dizziness. Took a day off on Wednesday (the turtle was a bit appalled at how flexitime my hours were in comparison to his nine-to-five slavery) to rest, because my backache was beginning to flare up again - nothing too unexpected, it makes for a constant companion for the insomnia that comes with every one of my manic episodes.

However, for all that, I can safely say that I'm as happy as happy can be, for lack of better ways to express this pure, unadulterated joy filling every molecule of my being.

Because between learning new stuff, and snuggling up to the turtle, and enjoying socialising with the fun, funny, interesting people in my life, I've been nothing but the happiest girl in the world lately.

Feels like a long way from the girl so depressed she couldn't even bring herself to crawl out of bed.

Today, I can honestly say that I love my life, and am happily making it known here - even if a happy post appeals less to you web-voyeurs than a miserable, self-pitying one, fuck if I care, just feeling too crazy cheerful. =D


Today, Irene Be Sappy

Sounds corny, hun, but all I need from you is your love.

It's been a pretty tumultuous first year, but so far it's looking pretty good.

I love you, every day, even when I'm moody and snappy and prone to inexplicable incidents of letting loose with the copious water-works.

I know there's many a time when you watch me helplessly and wring you hands in bewildered incomprehension, all the while wondering if this relationship with this crazy, emotional-wreck of a pampered princess' actually worth it.

I'm actually quite glad you mostly choose to stick around until I'm worn out from yet another hysterical bipolar episode, with your quiet comforting hugs awaiting me when I'm finally all cried-out and in need of a cuddle. And I've never said it to you before, but I do feel very bad all the time at subjecting you to all that shit... I'm just so sorry I'm not very good at keeping all that under control yet.

You've been the best boyfriend ever, hands down - I can't even think of any other guy I've ever dated that would come over my place (without me asking) after I'd just had a job interview (and leaving the all-important DotA session early at that!) to be there for me, to give me a congratulatory hug should the outcome be favourable, or offer a shoulder to cry on should it not quite work out. So supportive!

And that's just one example why you're so awesome. I'd like to list out the hundred and one reasons why you rock here in this post, but I think this is about as mushy as most of my readers can tolerate, and I don't want them boycotting this blog for fear of suffering PDA-overload here, so I'll uh... leave them unsaid here on public domain. I'll tell you when I see you again, OK?

Tomorrow's our anniversary. It's been one year, and then some, if you count in all the months you were in love with a troubled commitment-phobe who gave you every excuse under the sun not to be in a relationship with you, despite enjoying your company all the while. We've had some false starts, major dramarama, and almost-catastrophic misunderstandings, but all's good now.

I know I tell you this every morning when you give me my morning call, but... I love you, hun. More and more and MORE with every passing day. You've been the only person who's managed to make me feel so crazily deliriously in love consistently - even after so many months! Looking forward to the next three-hundred-and-sixty-five days of bliss by your side, hun... I'm hoping that life with you will be even more awesome!



"Can you tell me, what is it you want in life? You've never answered me when I asked you that."

"Heh. Haven't you realised it yet? My needs are simple enough. I just want to be happy."

"That's it? 哈哈,你的要求真的太低。"

"I assume you wanted to hear me say that I desire wealth and success? Of course I do, to a certain extent. But I've met some people who've done nothing but spend years and years chasing after those things. Not to say that they were unsuccessful. But sometimes it's an endless chase that doesn't bring as much happiness or contentment as you'd expect."

"Most people are chasing after something to that effect."

"Maybe wealth and success are the things that bring contentment to some. Maybe those are their priorities in life. There's nothing wrong there, different people find self-satisfaction in different things. I just think that after so many years of being so sad, I deserve to be happy now."

"Maybe you're right. But you'll someday find out that without money or power, people will treat you as if you were nothing."

And I thought I was the cynical one.


I have no idea how to alleviate the tense atmosphere here - the bitterness and the rage at the injustice of how things are hangs in the air like a bad smell.

I want to tell her, sometimes we have to learn to let go of things that cannot be changed, insignificant things that won't make a difference in the comfortable existences we already are living.

Maybe it's just naivete on her part, but blood is not thicker than water. Your family are the people who genuinely care about your welfare, and not a feigned concerned acted out for their own benefit.

Why bother to push so hard for things that won't make you happy, or for acceptance amongst those whom you have always resented?


Flippantly, I tell her, "So let me be a happy nobody then."



My parents are annoying as hell sometimes, but on days like today, they're just too cute.

Mrs. Chan's been sick with cough, runny nose, and fever since she got back from China. Mr. Chan has been insisting that she's somehow managed to contract the H1N1 virus there. The ensuing conversation occurred whilst she was trying sleep off her illness:

"You're sick. If your fever gets any worse you best go to the hospital. Swine flu can kill if just left too long to its own devices."

"If I die you can just find a new wife. You're so lengjai, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Only NOW you call me lengjai. Isn't that like thirty years too late already?"

Few minutes later, after trying to persuade her to seek medical attention and getting scolded for his efforts:

"You Cantonese people very garang. Mouth very bad one."

"Isn't it a bit too late for you to come to that realisation?"


And their daughter watches on in detached bemusement LOL.