Bored Skater, and No Love on her Hands

She still stands in the middle of the crowd, with the dragonfly still perched somewhere on her back. No matter what she does, it refuses to move from its perch, hidden from her sight.

She wonders at its motives. Why does it stay there? Why does it not fly away? Why does it not make an attempt to become human?

Even as she asks the questions, it still does not answer her. There is a slight flutter of wings, but she is not sure whether that was supposed to be an answer, or merely a reaction to the wind.

Then the answer strikes her.

Why does it stay there? It is comfortable. Why forsake its current security for the wild unknown?

Why does it not try to be human again? It is too used to being a dragonfly.

Existing as a dragonfly for too long, the memories of being human become dimmer and dimmer, and the consciousness of a dragonfly takes over. After all, she is not going anywhere. She is not with anyone. There is no threat to its security.


Why change the status quo?


Fine, she says, You may remain a dragonfly if you wish to.

You may perch on my shoulder if you want to, and there will always be space for you.

But I will not wait for you to turn human.

The power to turn you back into a human is not within me, it is within you. The burden of proof lies within you and not within me. It is not up to me to turn you into a human, but up to you to prove to me you can be human.

So you may take your time to decide, but I will not wait.

And if I find someone else, I hope you, little dragonfly, will be able to fly freely to another shoulder to perch.

Having finished, she looks at the crowd around her.

Teeming, moving, masses of humans, walking in their own directions, parting around her as she stands in the middle of them. Part of them, and yet apart from them. Someday, someone will notice and wonder why there is a space within this crowd of people, become curious, and walk into her space. He might walk with her, he might not. Till then...

She turns and starts walking, the crowd making way for her unconsciously as she does.

Melodramatic no? I feel as if I've run the entire gamut of emotions of a relationship without having exactly started one in the past 4 weeks. Weird, how can one even feel like one has broken up, without having started anything in the first place?

But anyway, the above italics more or less sum up what I feel about the whole Dragonfly situation I guess. Read into it what you guys will. And if the Dragonfly who knows who he is happens to read this, and wants a better explanation, call me up and let's talk.

Got a bit depressed last nite thinking about it though. [could have been due in part to the 2 Long Island Teas I had at the Village with the Lib Exco that day.] Had Bridget-Jones-style anxiety attacks about being a single, old virgin and having the police find my 1-month-old decomposed corpse in my small, pathetic, cat-filled one room flat.

Ok, not exactly that lah, but about potentially being single for an extremely, extremely long period of my life, and always wondering, What's wrong with me, what's wrong with me.

But after a midnight teh session with jcsz, my mind cleared up and brightened up a bit. I have many things in my life I can be thankful for, patient friends willing to read my crappy blog being one of them, and there is nothing [thankfully] wrong with me, ie I don't give guys the impression that I'm a les.

Hence, this personal ad, inspired by jcsz:

Friendly, easygoing girl seeks amiable company. Loves manga, anime, and most things to do with art. Loves to read fantasy and crime novels, and any other books or graphic novels that catches her interest. Learning Japanese, Malay, and hopes to take up French in the near future. Trying to take up rollerblading again. Also an avid blogger.

Needs freedom in her life. Don't try to tie her down to a 9 to 5 job or you'll kill her. Willing to take lower pay in order to enjoy the pleasure of waking up at 9 and taking in the sunshine and air, and crispy prata for breakfast. Don't insist that she stay at home and do all the housework too, because she has dreams, and being your domestic help is not one of them.

Strengths include an easygoing, "chin-chai" personality, a lesser emphasis on material belongings, and also a "cheap" nature. This means that she'll rather eat at coffeeshops or fast food than fancy restaurants most of the time, and that she'll balk at the idea of you spending too much money on her. Also doesn't worry too much about "face" value, so will not insist you do things like dress up, or treat all her friends to dinner, just to give her "face". She thinks that's nuts. Also has a wide open sense of humour and will laugh at most things other girls think are disgusting or uncivilised. Just make sure they're not malicious strikes at her friends or family or she will crush you beneath her Converse sandals.

Her main weakness is she does not doll up. Forget about her always togged in the latest fashions or always looking hot. To her, she'd rather be comfortable, so you're most likely to see her in T-shirts, or tanks and jeans most of the time. Her fashion sense is about 2 seasons out of date. Her makeup is non-existent, her face is clogged up with blackheads and oil, her nails are horrifying long, and she could stand to lose about 5 kg. She has terrible posture, her shoulders slouch, she has no grace when she walks, and at home, has a habit of propping one foot up on the chair like some kopitiam beng. She also eats too much fast food and she loves fries.

If you think you are willing to accept all the above, and love and cherish her to the end of days, please make contact for a screening test and interview session. What, you think it's gonna be that easy? She doesn't just pick up any old joe from the street you know.


A bit ego, but a bit gratifying too.


And to all who are disappointed in love, I can now tell you that the best solution is to go rollerblading. Yes, rollerblading. After the teh session, I woke up this morning at an abominable time and without clocking enough hours of sleep. Damn internal clock. Putting in mind what jcsz said about throwing things behind me, I went for a morning blading session to take my mind off things a while.

Damn, it worked. After a while, you're too busy concentrating on keeping your balance, making turns and avoiding the crowd of people in the park to worry about anything else in your life. That's why blading is good therapy. It forces you to think about other stuff, mainly not slipping and falling on your butt big time.

Which incidentally is what happened to me. I lost my balance at one stage, my skates flew out from under me and I landed on my butt so hard, I felt the impact on my ass.

Then up my spine.

Then to my lower teeth.

Lower teeth chattered and hit upper teeth.

Impact from upper teeth travelled over skull.

From skull travelled down spine again.

Then to ass.

Where it become one hell of an ass-ache. Bloody, bloody hell. And all that happened within the space of half a second. I had to sit there in the middle of the path for a while, to get my bearings back again, and I realised how apathetic Singaporeans are, because I sat there for a few minutes, and like 3 or 4 people went by me, before a lady took pity on me, and asked me if I was all right. Geez.

But the fall was actually in a weird, sado-masochistic sense, good for me, because after the fall, I had to heave myself up on my skates again, and continue skating. And shouldn't life be like that? We fall, we hurt, but we still have to get up again and continue the ride. And what a ride it was. Once I got my sense of balance again, I was happily whizzing down the paths, feeling the wind in my face, and flying free again.

The secret of life in a pair of blades. Who'd've thunk? Forget all those expensive therapy bills and Valium pills. Invest in a good pair of skates, learn, and everytime you think life sucks, go out and blade. Trust me, it's good for you.

Though not necessarily for your ass.

Thanks for bearing with me till now. As a prize, here's something I saw on the Net about How Singapore May Have Been.

A Whoozy Week

Meow meow meow...

It's been a whoozy of a week this week. Seem to be meeting different pple every day:

Mon - CJC Lib with Matt and Jeff. ( See previous post on damaged light switch )

Tues - Dinner with Necroz in town. Much complaining about work, PMS-ing bosses and non-existent dragonflies.

Wed - Swimming date with Quet suddenly changed to shopping trip for her long overdue birthday present. Followed by...

Comedy night at Bar None

I happened to see an ad about this in the papers and since it was $10, asked Quet along for a go.

First off, BN's location is one of the shadiest-looking ones. You walk down the road between Scotts shopping centre and the Marriot and there's a sign that discreetly states its presence. Then you walk down a winding flight of stairs to the basement before you come to the bar itself. All they needed were the 2 red lanterns hanging at the entrance.

And because it was sponsored by Guinness, everything everywhere was guinness, guinness, guinness... and neither of us drank beer. Boink. Ended up ordering Absolut Sin n Absolut Stress, between the 2 of us. Some girl in a huge guinness hat also tried to "tneh" us to buy some Guinness cocktails. Sorry girl, the cutesy trick is lost on us. Try some other horny Caucasian.

The main act for the night was supposed to be the Canadian Improv Theatre. Now why I was interested in it, was that the concept seemed to be exactly like Whose Line Is It Anyway. A bunch of actors on stage, and acting out scenes on request from the audience. Hey that sounds cool, since I love WLIIA.

Unfortunately....

I dunno whether it was to do with the sound system there, or the actors themselves, but most of the jokes were just lost on me and Quet. Half the time, we were wondering what the games were about, and when they started talking, we couldn't even catch what they were saying. And when we did, we were like, "Huh? Was that funny?"

Damn. Let-down.

Thank goodness for Selena Tan's opening act on Sex in the Lion City. That was hilarious, and she had us red in the face, laughing like maniacs before the drinks even arrived. So essentially I guess we paid $10 to see a Selena Tan skit? Sigh... Time to leave...

Thurs - Indian buffet lunch with Jubilee14 and DoE at Excelsior.

I never even knew this place existed. It serves a vegetarian Indian buffet lunch and is located on the 2nd floor of the shopping area next to Excelsior Hotel. And the best part of this is?

You can pay any price you want.

No shit. Pay Your Own Price. For all the food you think you ate.

My first thought on hearing it was: "How the heck did they survive?" Well apparently they could. It seems to be run by some sort of Indian charity organization, so there's a slight guilt factor working here, ie if you don't pay fairly, someone won't have enough rice to eat. I think most of the proceeds go to charity or something, so that explains it.

Then all the food is vegetarian also. If you guys are wondering how is it I, a confirmed carnivore, managed to go for a vegetarian buffet and stand it, well they have the most amazing spiced potatoes! Mwahahahaha! Plus the naan and chappatti dipped in yoghurt sauce is really good! Mmmmm.......

The minus point of it was that with all that carbo loaded up in us, and the yoghurt lassi drinks as well, me and Jubilee14 were later walking around with boulders in our stomachs. Oh good god...... and we didn't even eat more than 2 servings each. I swear!

Atkins-ers, stay away.

Friday - Today! After I finish this post, I'm going back for a full reunion at the CJC library this time. No more damaged property this time I hope.

And incidentally, Prof Lye of Bizad Pub actually remembers my no. and called me up asking me to go for a reunion of Bizad marketing students. Considering that I'm close to like, none of them? Not going... Would rather go for tuition and earn some money. Hee.

Unfortunately, it also turns out that Prof Lye is now a financial planner hawking some unheard-of endowment plan and pushed me to meet him one day so that he could tell me all about it. Urgh. Despite me pushing him my best and most valid excuse ["I'm a tuition teacher, I earn $15 an hour, I sure as hell DON'T have enough money to invest in anything right now!"] he still insisted on meeting up. ["I know you definitely don't have the income to invest in this, but I think this is something I should tell you about."]

Groan. I forgot how pushy Prof could be when he really wants to accomplish something. Lesson learned: Never ask a financial planner to elaborate about their jobs.

So now I'm meeting him Mon to "talk" about this. This job was so made for him.

Last week I was whining about not having anything to do. This week my schedule suddenly piled up. Bleah. Is this called getting more than you reckoned for?

And I'm starting to realise that my memory could need some help. There have been several occassions where for eg, I planned to meet up with A on Mon, and then a week later, I tell B that Mon's fine to meet. Then later the horrible realization of my boo-boo strikes me, and I have to make frantic calls to re-schedule. Sorry, sorry, sorry to anyone affected......

It's not just about the books

Just yesterday I went down to the CJC library once again, with Matt, Jeff, and one of my great-grand-juniors. [unfortunately I forgot the name] Our year's library exco really should be given a long service award by CJC for coming back every year to visit and help out in the library. It's been 5 years since we graduated and we're still coming back to visit and help out. [though all visits mean that we will end up helping one way or another]

It's almost like going to NS for 2 years, and then coming back to camp every year for reservist, just that here we work in an air-conditioned environment and get the occassional curry chicken lunch in the lib. [well, of course we aren't gonna eat canteen food!]

This time me, Matt and Jeff ended up shifting these brown shelves all the way from behind the computer terminals, to a seminar room outside the library, that I didn't even know existed. To those that remember the layout of the CJC library, this means that we heaved them onto trolleys, pushed them through the staff-only area behind the counter, through the literature books, and then to this blue door at the corner of the library. Open the door, and there's a long corridor that goes all the way to a hidden seminar room. Then heave the shelves onto the floor, go back out and get another shelf.

There's a lot of muscle in Jeff's body that's probably aching like crazy right now.

And then when we were shifting a shelf, the thing nearly toppled over! First it nearly toppled onto me, but thankfully Matt was nearby to help me balance it back. [goddammit that shelf was heavy!] Then lately while we were pushing it through the door, the trolley sorta tripped on a crack on the floor and it fell against the wall! And when we put it back on the trolley again, we found out that it had smashed a light switch!

You know, I really thought those things were stronger than that...

So now Jeff has to buy a new cover for that light switch and screw it back on on Friday and hope Madam or Mrs Ng doesn't notice in the meantime. They're really particular about preserving things in a useful condition, [explains why they're librarian staff] even to the point of keeping old slides and even microfilm. I never even knew we still had microfilm in the library. All on subjects ranging from King Lear to Statistics and Probability. Good god. I tried to persuade them into throwing it away [who uses microfilm these days in school??] but they insisted on keeping it, and so hence the 3 of us had to shift these things to the seminar room along with the shelves. Damn.

Funny thing about us is that our 98/99 exco is the exco with the most number of people who are willing to come back and help out Madam and Mrs Ng. Wonder why it's just our exco. Previous excoes did visit but I don't think they came back for as many years as we did. Our juniors, faleron's batch, do come back, but not in the same numbers as us, and of Matt's batch, [our grand-juniors] only he ever bothers to come back.

The number of people joining the library has also decreased. My batch had about 18 people as librarians. This year the intake was only 8. Bleah. No wonder Madam [the Malay lady] had to call us back to help out. And with the ECA points needed for entry into Uni, it's no surprise. There isn't any competitions or stuff for you to earn extra points in the library society, so as an ECA advantage, it lags behind the sports and other societies. Not to mention the work and the hours you had to log in as well, and for a measly 2 ECA points out of 2 years in CJC.

I mentioned this to Jeff while we were sitting in the little library office, eating our KFC lunch. [yes, ex-librarians DO get the privilege of eating in the library.] I said that with the Uni entry requirements changing to put more importance on ECA points, most students would rather join a society that allowed them to earn as many points as possible in order to better their chances for Uni.

He frowned. "That's true, but..."

"But?"

"But joining an ECA isn't always about the points what. It's also about the people."

Such a simple, true statement. Somewhere along the lines, we forgot that the purpose of joining any new club or society was to "make new friends" and simply to enjoy yourself. ECAs weren't just another way of getting yourself into Uni. They were also a way for you to take a break from school, and hang out with a bunch of people with the same love and interests as yourself, and generally have a good time. And ironically, the fact that they look a bit more closely at your ECA record now has resulted in these objectives being thrown to the back, and made ECA just like another academic subject you had to pass.

I remember joining the library on a sort of whim, because I like books and I wanted to see what working in a library, surrounded by them, would be like. I never thought of getting into exco, I never thought of ECA points, I just did it for the sake of doing it. And the returns I got back were so much more than what I put in. Friends, [who bother to keep contact] memories, a lot of outings after graduation, BBQs, and curry chicken in the library.

Memories:
Of me voting Jeff for President, before I even knew who he was
Deb: Hey hey hey, let's all sabo Jeff and put his name down as President.
Me: Oh, ok. Later thinks: Who's Jeff?

Of me, continually at verbal swordpoint with Jeff, even to this very day.

Me fencing with DMT, kefling and whoever stood in my way, with the newspaper sticks we used for orientation games with the juniors.

Me and fid sitting at a computer, giggling at the atrocious fantasy story I was writing about the members of the exco, while Steven and DMT wondered what the heck we 2 girls were getting up to. [boy, that story was a bomb. Wonder what happened to it?]

How can you put a price to these kind of memories and experiences? How many points can you allocate to friendships and bonds? To even put a price on it, would be to cheapen them, and to make me into some kinda ECA-whore, getting points for the points alone.

What motivation theory was that, that said that if you let someone do something they like, they will happily do it without expecting payment. However, if you start to pay them for doing it, they will lose the motivation to do it? That theory could be all so true.

Oh wellz, to friends, memories, and many more curry chicken lunches in the library. ;)

I am Jell-O

Reading through Xiaxue's blog entry on Sat about guys preferring "shu nus" [chinese. Shu4 Nu3. I tink that's how it goes] struck a chord in me. Seeing her words, her ravings, minus [most of] the fucks...... those could have been my words. My thoughts. Although I donno if they would have been ravingly blurted out on a website like that, I recognise the sentiments behind them.

Quoted:
Because you know what? Gentle, sweet, irritatingly perfect "creme brulee" Cameron Diaz got the man instead of arrogent, confident "jell-o" Julia Roberts. And no matter what Roberts says about how her character is unique, distinct and true, she can jolly well fuck herself because the guy making love to Diaz (thats right, its the flighty nitwits), not her.
~Xiaxue

You hear the same advice repeated over and over from tons of different friends. There will be someone out there for you. Be patient. Wait and the goods will come to you. [and just as Xiaxue said, the advice mostly came from friends who were happily attached at the moment. No offence guys, but...] Well, I've waited 23 years [technically er, about 10 years, since I started puberty?] and I'm still single. For all my uniqueness, my distinctness, and my trueness, I'm still pretty wandering the earth by my lonesome.

The feeling is worse when you're around people, ironically, because it just highlights how by yourself you are. After Dragonfly and I parted on Sat and I went down to the Science Centre, this feeling struck me again.

Standing in the middle of a huge crowd of people, walking their own directions. Most of them with someone else. And everyone moves to avoid you, unconsciously, as if they barely noticed you, as if you were just a lamppost in the road.

Even when you stand in the middle of all of humanity, you manage to maintain a space, a boundary around you that no one feels compelled to enter.

And the one thing that managed to fly in, above the uncaring crowd, landed on your back, where you couldn't notice it, though you felt its presence. You know it's there, you want to make contact, but it remains perched on your back, and for reasons unknown, it refuses to move.

Not even to look face to face with you.

Melodramatic, yes. The sentiments have rubbed off on me. I'm going to escape up to my room now and lose myelf in a book.

Leastways that way I avoid having to think any more deeper about this.

On a happier sidenote, Carl Jensen's "I have seen the world begun" is a most engaging read. The book is a series of thoughts and essays that he wrote while travelling in China, Cambodia and Vietnam, and his viewpoint on things is... penetrating? Insightful? I donno how to describe it well. Just to say that he doesn't just describe the physical of what he sees, but also the thoughts, the ideas, the Soul behind the places and people he sees. [my methods of expression are really horrendous and lacking. this is what happens when you don't stimulate your mind. argh.] This is the kind of tourist-writer that I won't mind becoming.

That way I won't just go to a place and later proclaim "there's nothing to see". :p *friendly jibe*