Sixteen to go

So each week this day has had a sore point, annoyance or trial. Especially so for Tuesday and Wednesday, the aftermath of which was the slight embarrassment of having casual observers ask what’s wrong. Well yes, I am an open book that way. And while I am grateful and thankful for leaders and role models and peers who made the effort, I feel rotten over my inability to explain what it is. I don’t have any answers to give.

I was evaluating whether the two whole days spent by attending our cell conference would be considered well spent. Discipleship, mentorship, leadership principles, evangelism, the Great Commission, burnout, stagnation, small group dynamics, vision, mission, God molding you: all these have multiple checkmarks in the been-there, heard-that column. At some point, hearing becomes an exercise in futility. Why give up two whole public holidays to exhaust yourself out for something you already know? But there’s a but here.

If I could relive this whole week, I wouldn’t do it differently. Even the part where I was nothing but a prickly shell, or when past mistakes came back to say hello. I can’t explain why, and I don’t have to. What I'll say is it was a beautiful day yesterday and I felt like skipping into the office after lunch. I love blue skies and I’m glad to be alive as me. (snuffs in contentment)

I might just

regret this fuchsia abomination on my serious, sombre blog. But not today. No regrets at all, not for anything this week and not for my seduction style. Wheeeeee....

Hrrrm. Cuddling superpower eh? It’s been mostly untested so I should recruit unwitting experimental subjects to validate this. See? That’s my calculative side talking. And it’s true that I’ve always thought it would be trilling to play at being a vampish heartbreaker but yeah, I don’t have the heart to do so.

A couple of nights ago

I saw a man sitting in an empty shop, eating his dinner of noodles alone. It was one of those unmemorable places with square tables in a row and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that afford you no privacy. A middle-aged man in black pants and long-sleeved collar shirt. One out of millions of greying office-drones in this world.

It reminded me of a guy I know who went over to Australia and ate by himself for six months, or so he says, because it was hard to fit in. That’s a long time to eat alone. He didn’t say outright that he minded though. Besides, he had a girlfriend there that he most likely called every day and saw during the weekends. And to put things into perspective, there are worse things that can happen to you than eating alone, be it for one night or six months. But that’s not the point here.

It’s ok to eat alone. Eating is one of those things you have to do to do, whether there are people available to eat with you or not. So there’s no point in making a fuss if you have to do it by yourself. And maybe he has a family to go home to or friends to hang out with but it just so happened that this time he had to stop by the first place he saw and grab a bite before rushing off to meet the people he loves. Maybe he isn’t really what he looked- a solitary figure with no family or place to belong to, sitting there with nothing to do but look at his noodles disappear.

Really, the reason why I'm saying all this is because I hope that he didn't feel as lonesome as I did when I saw him.

Monday, 23 April

"Learn that you cannot make anyone love you. All you can do is let yourself be loved.

Learn that it only takes a few seconds to open profound wounds in those you love, and it can take many years to heal them.

Learn that a rich person is not one who has the most, but one who needs the least.

Learn that there are people who love you dearly, but have not yet learned how to express or show their feelings.

Learn that two people can look at the same thing and see it differently."

Zzzz...

Sleep and slumber when others play,

tiredness comes with the dawning of day
Strength and grace for you
when it's night
Travel back home, put it away.

Shut your eyes and it'll be alright.

Three My Little Pony Crystal Princesses

for $29.90 with three matching carriages and three matching tiaras and a pink comb included. Not one, you know but three sparkly-winged baby ponies. As a kid, I used to think that My Little Pony was an expensive toy to get. After my acquisition on Sunday, I guess not.

I told Liz that this was a fulfilment of a childhood dream. To own a beautiful My Little Pony with wings like the one we used to have that got lost after we moved from Penang to KL. Like the one I saw in a friend’s house and thought was the most beautiful thing in the world.

But now that they’re sitting on my table -I haven’t quite decided where to put them yet; maybe bring them with me to the office? Not that I don’t already have enough toys in there to look like an adult with maturity issues- I’m not so sure anymore. It feels slightly like drinking flat coke. Which maybe it should. Stuff like that shouldn’t excite anymore. You’re supposed to be excited over things like how your career is advancing, getting a good grade, your football team scoring well or how many people admire you and how many new visitors we had for service. These are good things to get excited about. Not dumb ponies with floppy wings with glitter and multi-coloured hair who can’t even pull their own cart.

“It’s delight and simplicity that I want. Foolishness and fantasy and noise. Angels and miracles and wonder and innocence and magic. That’s closer to what I want…It’s about waiting behind the door of our hearts for something wonderful to happen...[being] a child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded and terribly vulnerable to joy.” Robert Fulghum

I think that’s my problem. I’m waiting behind the door of my heart for something wonderful to happen. Something that no amount of ponies and tiaras and glitter can give. Something that requires you to be impractical, unrealistic and terribly vulnerable.

I'm still waiting.

Up High in the Trees by Black Apple

This is how inane we are

athalia: piggy *oink * so when are we working on the page
fergusong: now
athalia: gimmie 5 mins
fergusong: 5 mins.... 6 mins..... 7 mins...... 73 mins..... 142 mins........
athalia: waitt.....drafting a post! almost done. ok now
fergusong: OK
athalia: but first, I need to take a trip to answer a call. LADIES!!!!
fergusong: meeting on statistics begins, with your chairladies. chairladies... athalia and fergus presiding
athalia: I didn't know fergus was a chairlady. I said wait larr
fergusong: i am one now. deal with it
athalia: I need to go to the loo
fergusong: ok. we are here today to discuss the statistics that are fake
athalia: but I need to peeee. wait…
fergusong: i'd like to hand this time over to the urinary lady of the hour, athalia lee
athalia: I'm going
fergusong: (clap clap clap)
athalia: back. what did I miss? are all the boringfergus speeches over?
fergusong: nope. we were waiting for chairlady athalee
athalia: darn
fergusong: ok. allow me to say a few things about statistics...
Statistics is a mathematical science pertaining to the collection, analysis, interpretation or explanation, and presentation of data. It is applicable to a wide variety of academic disciplines, from the physical and social sciences to the humanities. Statistics are also used for making informed decisions – and misused for other reasons – in all areas of business and government.
Statistical methods can be used to summarize or describe a collection of data; this is called descriptive statistics. In addition, patterns in the data may be modeled in a way that accounts for randomness and uncertainty in the observations, and then used to draw inferences about the process or population being studied; this is called inferential statistics. Both descriptive and inferential statistics comprise applied statistics. There is also a discipline called mathematical statistics, which is concerned with the theoretical basis of the subject.The word statistics is also the plural of statistic (singular), which refers to the result of applying a statistical algorithm to a set of data, as in employment statistics, accident statistics, etc.
athalia: *yawnnnn *
fergusong: now, let me say a few things about the publishing business...
Publishing is the process of production and dissemination of literature or information – the activity of making information available for public view. In some cases, authors may be their own publishers.
Traditionally, the term refers to the distribution of printed works such as books and newspapers. With the advent of digital information systems and the Internet, the scope of publishing has expanded to include electronic resources, such as the electronic versions of books and periodicals, as well as websites, blogs, and the like. ATHALIA LEE. ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?
athalia: wha..what? YES I AM YES SIRRR!!
fergusong: DESCRIBE TO ME THE SCOPES OF PUBLISHING IN TODAY'S MEDIA!
athalia: stands up and hastily recites:
Publishing is the process of production and dissemination of literature or information – the activity of making information available for public view. In some cases, authors may be their own publishers.
Traditionally, the term refers to the distribution of printed works such as books and newspapers. With the advent of digital information systems and the Internet, the scope of publishing has expanded to include electronic resources, such as the electronic versions of books and periodicals, as well as websites, blogs, and the like. see? I was too paying attention.
fergusong: THAT IS INCORRECT. ATHALIA LEE, YOU HAVE TO LEARN THAT A FULL ANSWER CONTAINS ONLY THE NECESSARY INFORMATION AND NOTHING MORE. I ASKED YOU FOR AN ANSWER NOT A RECITAL. GO STAND IN THE CORNER AND PULL YOUR EARS
athalia: (whimpers and pulls ears)
fergusong: Goood. now where was i? ok. Yes. statistics... what fields are we using? athalia?
ATHALIA LEE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING STANDING IN THE CORNER?
athalia: yo..u you...sent me there sir!
fergusong: COME BACK HERE THIS INSTANT. THIS IS A STATISTICS SESSION, NOT THE BLOODY TRIATHLON.
athalia: fine. I QUIT!
fergusong: good. now, where was i again?

My blog is ruined.