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Things are slipping out of my hands and I hate it that I have no control over the imminent loss, just as majority of events that were meaningful to me in my life. I reckon the splendour of such an existence is its unpredictability and fragility. I wish for a bigger hand, a stronger grip, I wish that the things that mattered weren’t as slippery as they were.
a-ok¡El primero fin de semana sin trabajar desde cinco semanas pasada! En realidad, desde regrese de mi vacaciones. De repente, no sé que mi debería hacer con el tiempo.
La ciudad en un fin de semana es muy diferente de durante la semana. Hay más personas en todas partes, todas tiendas abrir más tarde, todas cosas mover más despacio.
Ayer, fui al mercado Victoria. Compre muchas verduras y pescados para comida. En la tarde, con Sheirly mi amiga, fuimos vino saboreando en el sur de Melbourne. También, tuvimos un café con un poco pastel. Estuvo un poco divertirse.
downCon frecuencia creo que vida es muy difícil. Hoy es uno de esos día.
Estoy muy triste ahora. Mi trabajar es crecimiento estimulante. Siento cansado con mucha frecuencia, se extraño Ben, y me odio para eso.
Cada día pasado, deseo mi suerte posible mejorar. Pero yo se la vida es usualmente imprevisible. La mañana, posible se mejorar, posible se empeorar.
a-okEl servicio estuvo bien. Estará con optimismo seguir bien por mucho tiempo.
Estuve todo el día en Victoria Garden. Por lo menos yo reserve las boleras para nuestro acontecimiento la próxima semana. También, compre un poco pan, un par de vela rojas de Ikea para bueno Feng Shui. Estuvo divertirse.
El masaje tuve estuvo bueno, gracias dio. Hubo estaba un poco mal por mucho tiempo.
a-okUn día normal, trabajar todo el día, clase de español en la noche.
La mañana, estaré traer mi carro a centro de servicio. Estoy un poco nervioso porque el carro no tiene algún servicio por mucho tiempo – demasiado mucho tiempo.
Cuando esperando para el servicio de mi carro, iré natación, comprando un poco cosas para mi casa, quizás tener un masaje.
Ahora tengo hambre otra vez. No hice mucho hoy pero mi apetito es aumentando.
cheekyDoctor G got fairly excited when he saw a Chinese girl walk into his office. Good on him, he was able to tell straight away that I was ethnic Chinese, not Japanese/ Korean/ Vietnamese. During the ten minutes I spent telling him the long story of how I ended up at his office, he managed to slip in the fact that he’s spent 7 years in Hong Kong (which explained his excitement on seeing me). I didn’t think he was bragging nor was he a boastful man, but he seemed genuinely unaware of the potential implications of the words he was churning out of his mouth at 300 sentence a minute.
I spent a total of around 150 minutes at the dentist’s office and let’s see how many Asian/ Chinese clichés I had been dealt with then…
· You root canals are so tiny… it reminded me why I didn’t stay in Hong Kong to be a dentist as Chinese teeth are smaller and…
· I can’t read your fortune, I’m a dentist. If you need your fortune told you need to use that bamboo thingy at the temple
· How on earth did a girl at your age managed to crack her tooth so badly? You must have had one too many chicken bones. It’s the Chinese diet isn’t it?
· I appreciate your feeling – in Hong Kong if the dentist doesn’t give the patient treatment at the first visit they’ll probably never return
· I’m sorry you must be used to the Asian style of doing business when everything happens so fast and quickly
· I think in Singapore they’re trying to flood the market with dentists too, like the rest of Asia. In this way all dentist will have to work longer hours for less money
Don’t get me wrong, the dentist was such a amiable and endearing fellow, but it was deeply ironic that throughout all most of the time spent on the dentist’s chair I had my mouth wide open but was completely incapable of rebuking the clichés nor attempt in any way defend myself. If I wasn’t so caught up in the miseries of having a major root canal treatment on a tooth that went bad purely due to bad luck (those who had lived with me would know the amount of time I spent looking after my teeth daily), I would have been laughing out loud half the time.
Before I left, I returned my share of irony/ cliché to his practise. I gave the dentist a box of sugary biscuits.
hungry
vegas luckyI have 200,866 miles on my frequent flyer programme. 39,133 miles more, and I’ll be able to book on a round-the-world ticket on business class! I can’t think of anything else in the immediate horizon of my life that can potentially thrill me more than the prospect of that stupendous free-flight redemption.
don't askSomebody shoot me please!
downEach time I plan an entry to this blog I force myself to think happy thoughts. It appears to me that all desires to write creatively simply do not thrive on positivity. During the period where my blog entry was dry and minimal I was busy having the time of my life. Now as each night I crawl back into my nest licking the wounds of the day in the cold comfort of solitude, I type out my misery and post it to the void hoping that someone out there actually reads this and for that split second of their life feel sympathetic towards my sorry self.
“I do not envy your position at all,” she said as I poured out woes of my employment to a new found friend. I told her more. I unleased all my recent thoughts on Ben, how resentful I feel towards him for having so little courage. A flood gate opens and I yabbered on and on and tried the patience of a person whom prior to this evening knew little of my private life. I managed to hold myself when I thought about the disappointment I faced since returning from Egypt. “We’ve got to have faith you know. It’s so hard; it’s like having an endless stream of bad dates then you find yourself hitting the jackpot with this dude only to find it an anticlimax,”
Tomorrow there will be a new guy in my life. He is young, driven, well groomed and attractive. Much as I would like to say that I was describing a new love, he is in fact a new employee. I’m placing all my hopes on this young fellow that perhaps in months to come he’ll have the guts to take on my position giving me finally the opportunity to plan a good long escape to the arms of this wonderful world. I don’t want to be stuck to this stupid lousy job no more. I want to leave; I want to see more parts of this beautiful planet; I want to fall in love with new people. So tonight I go to bed in hope and only time can demonstrate what other anticlimax there is in-stall for me.
I felt a rush of something
It could be precious it could be nothing
But it brought me back to the living
And my heart begins desiring
He was a stranger in passing
There was no time it was not promising
But I gave in when I wasn't guarding
He was beautiful when he was smiling
I felt a rush of something
As I stood there I watched him leaving
I resent myself for yearning
In the end it was just disappointing
I was first introduced to the idea of a 'rip' in Chile. Apparently there are certain ocean currents that can drag an entity suddenly and fiercely hundreds of metres away from the shore into the deep water.
Thank goodness I have never experienced this frightening phenomenon in my lifetime though I feel that a similar word should be created to define a more abstract form of a 'rip'. For example, I was caught in a mental 'rip' when my sanity departs me in a manner and speed that my physical being could never had anticipated.
The melody of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No 2 had been floating at the back of my mind lately. I really only like the first movement because it is the most melancholic bit of the entire composition and depicts my current state of mind to such perfection.
This morning I turned on the radio and not long after I heard that familiar bell-like tolls on the piano. Was it my imagination or ABC Classic FM had so kindly give in to my secret desire to indulge in self-pity?
Apparently Rachmaninoff composed this piece towards the end of his depression years. That would explain the gloomy overture of the concerto that ends in a somewhat triumphal orchestration. I wonder the intention of such a progression was but a simple documentation of his recovery, or in an abstract sense an encouragement to all fellow wretched beings that if you hang on long enough something victorias could await at the end.
"How was your day?" He asked
“Bad,” was my reply.
“Bad?” He sounded genuinely shocked, “Your day was bad?”
“Yes, very bad in fact,” I wrote an email earlier the day telling my boss exactly what I thought of him, “but you don’t want to know”
It surprised me that he found my reaction unusual. In a Thai boxing class, surely there are plenty of deeply frustrated souls trying to punch the light out of their invisible enemy. At least that was the big part of why I was there.
The torture began 6pm 15th May 2008. I had not felt this challenged since 11th July 1993. That faithful day, nearly 15 years ago was the first day I started training for martial arts under a sadistic Martial Arts instructor. Then my instructor said that he intends to push us to the limit of our physical tolerance and only the worthy ones shall last the full term. Being the rebellious (and stupid) teenage I was, when someone tells me that there is something I can’t do, I will rise above it and show him that I most certainly can do better. I lasted 4 years.
But yesterday, I can feel all the oldness in my body screaming for an early retirement. The only drive that motivated me through the 1 hour of agony was when thoughts of my miserable life takes over, my feeble arm that swing one last shot after another into the infinite brace pads of my training partner. “Just one more punch, you can do it,” howlers young and beautiful Katie.
The pain, oh the pain of morning after. I waddled to work and have trouble reaching for my tea mug. Part of me wondered if there was any chance for me to get my money back (now I know why they make you sign up for a 12 months membership), but on the other hand, this might be my shot to become that million dollar baby.
irritatedThe best way to get over a relationship is to plunge into a new one. In my case the best way to get over post-travel depression is to plan for the next trip.
I flipped through the world altas and wondered where I should go next. After going through the many regions I've yet to set foot on I settled on Kazakhstan since it sounds the most foreign in my mind.
Unfortunately Kazakhstan visa does not appear to be easy to obtain and given the schedule for the rest of this year it seems highly unlikely I'll be able to make the time to get the visa.
Too bad then. I need to think of something else now.
