It Really Hurts

My problem took a huge turn. The pain wasn't just pain, it's nearly unbearable when i moved into certain positions. Standing up from a sitting down position became a detestable task which i've been doing so easily in the past. Probably, it's until the edge of losing something that you realise how precious it is.

My lecturer was saying, Human Beings living in a cosmopolitan society like Singapore has taken things for granted way too often. She simply mentioned some words to describe it all - 'the backyard syndrome'. She further explains how a person couldn't be bothered with his backyard until a day when someone throws something into the backyard then only will he worry.

For things even as simple as walking could be taken for granted, same goes to eyesight, sense of hearing etc. Ask the blind and they'll tell you how lucky you are.

For now, i just wished my back can recover fast. I miss bending down wearing my shoes and socks, i miss lying down flat on my bed and sleep, i miss jogging and running.......

Happy Birthday Don

It's 24 September again. Coincidentally, it's the celebration of this 24 years of wonderful life. I'm glad i walked near half of that and made a wonderful friend. Happy 24th Birthday and May All Your Wishes Come True!! Just a few quote to celebrate your birthday as a friend alongside with our friendship! Cheers!

- Friendship doubles our joy and divides our grief
- Friendship is never finished, only abandoned
- A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out
- The language of friendship is not words but meanings


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On the side note, i was especially touched by LayHuannies and Jon for the pillow they bought. No words can explain or describe how surprising and touched i am. They learnt about my back problem and poof, they got me a pillow.

Sometimes, it's the words and actions that makes all the difference. Spread it all people. Cheers

I'm a Superman

I thought everything well over and done with. I THOUGHT. Yet, rubbish always find its way to my ears. However, i'm not the same as before, or just thought she thinks i am. I found just a song which totally speaks myself out. There you go, Superman by Eminem.


Dina Rae: Mmmmm..
Marshall: You high baby?
Dina Rae: Yeahhh
Eminem: Oh yeah?
Dina Rae: Talk to me
Eminem: You want me to tell you somethin?
Dina Rae: Uh-huh
Eminem: I know what you want to hear

[ Chorus ] [ Eminem and Dina Rae ]

I know you want me baby, I think I want you too
(I think I love you baby) I think I love you too
I'm here to save you girl, come be in Shady's world
I want to grow together, let's let our love unfurl
You know you want me baby, you know I want you too
They call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you
I want to save you girl, come be in Shady's world
(Ooh boy you drive me crazy) Bitch, you make me hurl

[ Verse 1 ]

They call me Superman
Leap tall hoes in a single bound, I'm single now
Got no ring on this finger now
I'd never let another chick bring me down
in a relationship, save it bitch
Babysit? You make me sick
Superman ain't savin shit
Girl you can jump on Shady's dick
Straight from the hip, cut to the chase
I tell a muh'fuckin slut to her face
Play no games, say no names
Ever since I broke up with what's-her-face
I'm a different man, kiss my ass
Kiss my lips, bitch why ask?
Kiss my dick - get my cash?
I'd rather have you whip my ass
Don't put out, I'll put you out
Won't get out, I'll push you out
Puss blew out, poppin shit
Wouldn't piss on fire to put you out
Am I too nice, to buy you ice?
Bitch if you died, wouldn't buy you life
What you tryin to be my new wife?
What you Mariah? Fly through twice

[ Bridge ]

But I do know one thing though
Bitches, they come they go
Saturday through Sunday, Monday
Monday through Sunday yo
Maybe I'll love you one day
Maybe we'll someday grow
'Til then just sit your drunk ass
on that fuckin runway ho

[ Chorus ]

Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman
Can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman
I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman
Can't be your Superman, your Superman your Superman

[ Verse 2 ]

Don't get me wrong - I love these hoes
It's no secret, everybody knows
Yeah we fucked, bitch so what?
That's about as far as your buddy goes
We'll be friends, I'll call you again
I'll chase you around every bar you attend
Never know what kind of car I'll be in
We'll see how much you'll be partyin then
You don't want that, neither do I
I don't want to flip when I see you with guys
Too much pride, between you and I
Not a jealous man but females lie
But I guess that's just what sluts do
How could it ever be just us two?
I'd never love you enough to trust you
We just met and I just fucked you

[ Bridge ]

[ Chorus ]

[ Verse 3 ]

First thing you say, "I'm not fazed I hang around big stars all day
I don't see what the big deal is anyway you're just plain old Marshall to me"
Ooh yea girl run that game "Hailie Jade? I love that name!
Love that tattoo - what's that say?, rot in pieces? uh, that's great"
First off you don't know Marshall, at all so don't grow partial
That's ammo for my arsenal, I'll slap you off that bar stool
There goes another lawsuit leave handprints all across you
Good Lordy whodi, you must be gone off that water bottle
You want what you can't have, Ooh girl that's too damn bad
Don't touch what you can't grab, end up with two backhands
Put anthrax on a tampax and slap you 'til you can't stand
Girl you just blew your chance don't mean to ruin your plans

[ Bridge ]

[ Chorus ]

Bad Bad Day

It was a bad week to start off with. Work on weekend has ruin my fantastic plan of my long weekend. Not to mention my back pain has aggravate. Worse of all, came a large hole on my wallet and gone are my money and guitar picks.

Anything else..coming up????????????

Broken Heart = Death

Chanced this upon a website. It seems like we human beings can literally die from a broken heart. So whatever it is, it's always better to take things at your own stride. I've heard of stories on how a lady passed away just 2 days after her partner did. A wake for one could easily turn into a wake for two.

It's always better to show concern to family or even friends who're on their down side of life. I'll never forgot how my broken heart is mended, much due to those who really showed and showered me with the necessary concern and support.

Read this article and you'll know the consequences.

Heartbreak increases heart attack risk

SYDNEY : People mourning the loss of a loved one are six times more likely to suffer cardiac arrest, potential proof that you can indeed die of a broken heart, Australian researchers said Tuesday.

According to a Heart Foundation study of the physical changes suffered immediately after a profound loss, grieving people were at significantly higher risk of heart problems, said lead researcher Thomas Buckley.

"We found higher blood pressure, increased heart rate and changes to immune system and clotting that would increase the risk of heart attack," Buckley said.

Of the 160 people studied, half were mourning the loss of a partner or child, and their risk of heart attack increased six-fold, he said.

The risk, which was evident in people as young as 30, reduced after six months and levelled out after two years, he added.

A sudden flood of stress hormones is believed to be behind the grief-induced heartache, a condition that earlier studies have found is more likely to affect women.

Hectic, Furlough, Reality

NATAS Fair was a killer. It took a heavy toil on me. It was successful and i thought all those bookings were manageable. But it never turned out to be so, much due to expected but unforeseen circumstances. Seems abit contradicting but it's really how things are now. Given all the hard work and stuff, to think that i was shocked by the figure produced today by our General Manager. For a relatively decent sized company like UOB Travel, from start of the year till now, the company only made 4k. YES, you didn't see wrongly, only $4000.00 bucks!

This piece of news alarmed me. Those news on how NATAS broke its record in travel sales, those news on how H1N1 and economic downturn aren't preventing people from travelling, those news on how Singaporeans are gaining the confidence to travel suddenly seems so inaccurate. The figure of profit made me feel how insignificant i am. It's a weird and uncertain feeling.

Post NATAS was of intense atmosphere. Staying up late at work became a routine. I miss my bed, i miss my mum's home cooked food, i miss lazing in front of my computer, i miss going out for a dinner and catch up with my friends.....but i haven't been able to do much of that lately.

Macau was spectacular. Hong Kong was amazing and yummy. Everything else was comforting and nice, a great escape from the pile-up of work and rantings of some.

But yet again, it's back to the battlefield and i really dread the life of 8.30am to 11pm work. I feel like an ox, on a never ending ready-to-be-harvested plot of land...can i just...give it up? But one thing to bad glad about i passed my exams, with another burden in mind....

What the Modern Woman Wants

Do take some time to read this essay. Definitely worth reading. Enjoy!
A 15-YEAR-OLD Singaporean, competing against 16- to 18-year-olds, has won the top prize in a writing contest that drew 5,300 entries from 52 countries..
In the annual Commonwealth Essay Competition, Amanda Chong of Raffles Girls' School chose to compete in the older category and won with a piece on the restlessness of modern life.
Her short story, titled What The Modern Woman Wants, focused on the conflict in values between an old lady and her independent-minded daughter.

'Through my story, I attempted to convey the unique East-versus-West struggles and generation gaps that I felt were characteristic of young people in my country,' said Amanda, who likes drama, history and literature and wants to become a lawyer and a politician.
Chief examiner Charles Kemp called her piece a 'powerfully moving and ironical critique of modern restlessness and its potentially cruel consequences'. The writing is fluent and assured, with excellent use of dialogue.

Amanda gets (S$1,590). A Singaporean last won the top prize in 2000, said Britain 's Royal Commonwealth Society, which has been organising the competition since 1883. Enjoy reading folks...

What the Modern Woman Wants
By Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen

The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.'

Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. 'Finance''Liquidation' 'Assets' 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it. Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.

The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval.

'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!' Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.

'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap.. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.

'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switching to Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America . There have been a lot of problems.'

The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.

Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried the same cryptic look.
The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.

'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for 'networking', Chinese ones being easily forgotten.

'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.'

Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silence meant she did not comprehend.
'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!'

The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.
The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.

Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side.

'Ma, I'll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.

The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.

Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook.

Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man. Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.

What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.

The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt joss stick into an urn of smouldering ashes.

She bowed once more. The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son.
Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had kicked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name.

Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man.

She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen.

She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl, to one who openly defied her, calling her laotu; old-fashioned.. She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.

Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood, faceless, with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.

Her daughter had forgotten her mother's values.. Her wants were so ephemeral; that of a modern woman. Power, Wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques, and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less.. When her daughter left the earth everything she had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman, but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.

The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter; now she had only one want: That her daughter be happy. She looked out of the temple gate. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go from there - down.
The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she was enslaved to and worshipped every day of her life.

Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty soulless shell at the altar.

The old lady watched her joss tick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing. Modern woman nowadays, the old lady sighed in resignation, as she bowed to the east one final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder why they cannot find it.

Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter's face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sow the seeds of happiness.

They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not as fast as she had done before.

'Ma,' Bee Choo finally said. 'I don't know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyer willing to pay seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road . Once we move in to our apartment we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves...'

The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. 'We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out - but once the maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and, besides that, the apartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home.

There's one near Hougang - it's a Christian home, a very nice one.'

The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. 'I've been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! I hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there.'

'You'd be happier there, really.' Her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.

This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offerings to cling tightly to; she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag, and her fingers trace the white seat.

'Ma?' her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. 'Is everything okay?' What had to be done, had to be done. 'Yes,' she said firmly, louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added more quietly.

'It's for you, Ma! You'll be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda.
'I knew everything would be fine.'

Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; Money, Status, Career, Love, Power and now, Freedom, without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down...

Yes, she was free. Her phone buzzed urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear.. 'Stocks 10% increase!'

Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her...And while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible, and she did not see the tears.

NATAS Fair

Yes! It's NATAS!! I never look forward NATAS so eagerly before. Probably due to the fact that this NATAS is the only time to save my ricebowl, given such hard times we have been facing. And so, everything started with a bang. Training and preparation for this fair starts as early as July, which the whole of July and August being leave embargo period.

Worse of all, just one week prior to the fair, the atmosphere was intense. Adverts after adverts. Calls after calls. So much so that our low manpower couldn't handle, i swear i almost died.

Just minutes into the fair, i got my first booking. And constantly, bookings came in. Until the final day, it was annouced successful. The subsequent days was hard even till today. I lost sleep. I missed out on lots of stuff but i believe i learnt lots out of it. It was fun, memorable and certainly draining as well.

Whacky Colleagues

The Official Mascots of Warner Brothers, Gold Coast

I was so excited taking photos with them. They are professional mascots and i really meant professional. They way they mimic the characters really reminds me of how they look like in cartoons. And mind you, that batman suit weighs more than 30kg.

It's fun for my job, on my end to ensure others enjoy their holidays. And now, i look forward to mine. Counting down....Wooooo