Christmas

Out of all my Christmas gatherings with friends, the one I look forward to the most is the one with my high school friends. Maybe because it's usually a weekend night, whereas gatherings with other friends are usually for lunches and weekday nights.

Maybe it's because we've all seen each other through the best and worst of times, maybe it's because we've grown up together so there's a certain level of purity between us. At the same time, this kind of friendship can be a double edge sword in the sense that we've only allowed a certain level of image to be seen with the other person. It can be hard to break through that mold especially if there are other avenues of ourselves that are drastic from the other.

Either way, for that couple of hours we were together, it was an awesome night for everyone. You can tell everyone had a great time because as soon as everyone got home, they were all looking to add each other on facebook. My news feed was flooded with notices on who became friends and a smile formed on my face.

Irrelevancy

Yowza! I woke up this morning at 5 AM (someone's text message woke me up) and thought yay, I'm going to start my day super early! So, I showered, packed my breakfast, packed my school notes (I study at the library during my lunch hour) and drove to the station.

As soon as I got to downtown, I stopped by Timmies to get my breakfast, and realized I left my wallet at home. Usually, it's in my bag but I had brought it out last night to go to McDonalds. Smart move!

So, now I am wallet-less, lunch-less, coffee-less and hoping there will be no ticket-checkers on the train or cops on the road tonight. My diet today will be Kashi cereal and chamomile tea haha.

In between full-time work and studying 3 courses, I think I can handle it in my head until I realize that I'm putting everyone and everything else in my life on the back burner. I forget to return my library books. I forget to pay my bills. I cancel with friends and move the date at a later time, only to cancel with them again. I may feel like seeing friends today so I book time with them. Only when the day comes, I feel like spending time in isolation.

It's always like this: when you want something in life, and you work for it, you get all these other usually-seemingly unimportant things creep up demanding your attention. It's frustrating, challenging and surprisingly, fun.

Anyway, I'll have to re-prioritize, re-organize and work harder.

It's a good day, nonetheless. Am slowly becoming a morning person.

haha, this is such a pointless entry - childish and irrelevant

October

As much as I love all the special people who had their birthdays this month, I must say thank God the celebration is finally over! I don't know if it's the age factor which leads to my lack of energy but I am gloriously exhausted from all the running about this month, especially for 5 of the 7 special birthdays. [I suppose the running about makes up for all the cakes I've had, but still...]

For the remaining of this month, I just have one more birthday to celebrate, one wedding reception, one hospital visit, one midterm, one assignment and then I can get back to myself. I suppose the motivating factor for this month was all the little things in life really, despite the very moody forecast.

I like working in downtown Toronto, probably loving it more and more. It's a different culture almost. People are dressed up, energetic, running about and just seemingly, have a goal everyday.

Despite everything, I still want to go back to Paris for December. Some days, I think about dropping everything here and moving there. Other days, I am more practical about it.

The zillion train of thoughts that run to my head, I often have to remind myself not to talk out loud about them, because they aren't censored very much. So, I apologize if you've had to try and understand my point of views this month, especially in our limited break time.

Mintz: My dinner with Sarah Polley - thestar.com

Mintz: My dinner with Sarah Polley - thestar.com

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Thought this was a relateable article and the writing was simplistic and endearing.

Happy Birthday Mom

October is a really busy month on the home front.

Usually when my parents come home at night, one of us opens the door to greet them. Tonight, no one did, out of exhaustion and laziness. I was taking a nap. My sister was studying for her midterms. My brother and my other sister were on the computer.

So my mom comes home, a little dejected that nobody surprised her with a cake on her birthday. My dad came home and went to check the fridge for the cake and laughed. (I heard him laugh even when I was upstairs) Still, he managed to say to my mom, "oh the kids didn't get a cake for you this year but it's okay." (My dad's always cooperative, when it comes to surprising my mom haha)

My mom, even more disheartened by this point, went to take a shower since she found out there was no cake, that I was sleeping, and the rest of us were 'too busy'. She took forever, until my little sister told us that she was ironing her clothes and watching TV in the grownup's room, which translates to her getting ready for bed. At this point, we all walk quietly up the stairs with the cake. My dad goes in first and comforts her some more. The rest of us follow and yell out, "Surprise!!" then proceed with a birthday song.

She then had this huge smile and I think she was moved because her voice was a little different. Then she told us how she thought nobody cared to celebrate with her on this one-special-day-of-the-year. Then we all had cake after 11 PM (which means all of it is retained in our butts), and ended the night with some pictures and some laughs.

Tonight's a good night. Good moments are hard to come by but they're much more memorable.

Happy Birthday Mom! When friends tell me horror stories about their mom, or how great their mothers are, I think none of them are as great or as strong or as successful as you are. You bug the living daylights out of all of us but I'm sure we all do well in returning that favor. I hope when you get a little bit more savvy with the world wide web, you'll read all this, smile and be proud of yourself that this little unit you've created with dad turned out to be an alright bunch, lots of improvement needed but alright.

Little sister with her little comments

[Just cuz I know you're going to read this]

Nelly - Jenn, are you studying?
Jenn - yup, I have a test coming up
Nelly - what?? why are you working harder than I am? That is not normal!

Ignition

Sometimes, these moments come at a random point, a name that sparks that hidden ignition, an expression or a child's innocent smile. So you contend with the uncertainty of when this ignition sparks and you think about dissipating the ignition once and for all.

Except, most of us don't know how to do that. So, most of us rather replace the original ignition with a new one. Until that new replacement comes, there is this waiting period. And nobody, nobody, likes to wait. Worse still, instead of attempting to be patient, we find crappy replacements for the time being.

In the end, we question how happy we are, we question how much worth it was. For those of us who did wait, we question if it was a good idea. So, would we, should we, have a black and white answer or a grey one?

Connection

Connection with people is such a flighty thing. It's short-lived. I wonder what keeps friendship between two people together? Should connection be naturally grown or should it be coerced into?

Two steps forward, one step back

Maybe online classes were a bad idea.

On top of about 50 page notes per course and average of 30 pages of textbook readings per week, I have like maybe over 20 messages to go through daily on the discussion board for each course. Each message is like a personalized long letter that I have to read in detail and respond accordingly.

Not to mention almost everybody has had some sort of experience with the industry, whether it be a published book, or a degree to that effect, or many a rejection slips. So, I have to be impressive in each response since I'm trying to step into the world of the elites.

haha, I don't think I'm used to full time work + part time school + designation titles. Although I must say this is probably the most challenging kind of fun I had in years, and that's really because I'm finally taking the first step. My mother was a bit skeptical about supporting me for my dream but I think I'll take what I can get.

Thanks Mark, Eugene, Salima, Rocellie and Andy for the encouragement! Especially Roce, who has encouraged me to do this almost 5 years ago! Always helps to have people in your life who give a little boost in order for you to jump. :)

Ram-ble....Eenie meenie miney mo

haha I'm having a little bit of a dry spell and I just didn't want my page to start off with the title "Morbidity", so I'm replacing it with this entry. Not that I have much to write because I'm all talked out. So, here's a whole list of random thoughts:

They say that true friends tell you the harshest truth. Well, I got a couple today haha. Not that it was comforting but I think because I'm such a bitch, and that he stood up to tell me that, I felt like he's the kind of friend you could really keep. Often times, it's the way people say things that make a difference.

People are intrinsically selfish. That's a really sad fact that I haven't been accepting of, for years.

Cirque du Soleil - oVo was so awesome!! My friend was thoughtful enough to get me seats that allowed me to see the show yet not be too close to the clowns, or, uh, lots of makeup people. At one point of the show, one of the clowns stood right beside my friend, but thank goodness he carried on. Their costumes just make them look so friggin' big that you feel like they've not only stepped over your personal space but just taken it over. Anyways, other than my unexplainable fear of clowns, the show was so great! I was just smiling and happy the whole time. It's probably the first time I've been completely fascinated, through and through. I like the idea of a small stage as well cuz it's just more personable and more intimate. I'm definitely going to go to the rest of their other shows.

The Time Traveler's Wife - yea I don't know if I loved it. It was just weirdly put together though I like the whole concept and everything. Have yet to see 500 days of summer.

Today, I accompanied a friend's friend's girlfriend and her friend who are from out of town and we went to Greektown. I need to learn more things about Toronto to share with people. (Good and bad things) Definitely need to visit the rest of Canada because it kinda puts me to shame that I haven't visited the other parts of my own country.

I've been here 14 years. Wow. (I was only conscientious of this when asked) That's roughly the number of years my parents were in Pakistan.

I need to improve on talking, and pause to think. And apparently, I'm all grown up. Not that I like it, because I've become cynical, uncaring, non-sentimental towards a lot of people who I used to think of as friends.

Was going to go to CNE but kinda glad I've decided against it. I'm really all sunned out from the weekend.

Paris - It was simply the best trip I've been on. Not that I've been to a lot of places haha. I just love the place probably a little too much. There are days when I'm here and I feel this lost connection with everything and everybody, that I think of Paris and I think of all the art, the culture, the vibrancy and I remind myself, that I'm not dead. I just miss the place. I miss being creative. I miss being alive, and having something tangible to show for it.

Connection with people. It's kinda dangerous for empathy levels really.

Morbidity

[For the past little while....]
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It's really depressing that within a week of coming back to Toronto, 3 deaths have been announced. These kind of announcements are happening far too often, especially with the sudden death of two of them.

Kinda hard to keep my spirits up. This past weekend, when riding a horse in this open field, I felt this incredible sadness about life. More so than usual. On top of all the struggles in life, we work hard on trying to get somewhere, trying to be someone, trying to love despite obstacles, then death can just strip away all of that in a split second. I think most of us are so busy just getting by, that we don't have the time; much less, the chance to leave a legacy behind, and suddenly things change. How is any of anything fair again, is a question I grapple with not much of a suggestion as to an answer.
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In Paris, while sitting in a really quiet park, I was doing a little bit of writing on my notebook when I just let my emotions catch up to me. My best friend was a little bit baffled as to why I was so emotional, so suddenly. Even after a few probing, I refused to open up, despite the fact that I confide a lot of things to him.

You don't ask or explain or confide something you stopped believing to someone who still believes, lest they don't understand you, or worse, misjudge you.

You don't tell someone (on a vacation) that you think life is incredibly unfair, this double standard in our society, this obliviousness and ignorance towards people who get the shorter end of the stick, this savageness in our world where everyone is only out for their best interests, where sex sells and everything else is, secondary.
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Just feel like maybe I have to start reading the Obituary section
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I never realized it but horses kinda have really sad eyes

A breath of fresh air

It’s Thursday today, sure wish I was in Paris already, because then I could wake up and just write for an hour, before I skedaddle to all the museums, cafes and breathe in the Parisian air.

I woke up today feeling so happy like a new chapter has begun, though nothing has really changed in my circumstances, at least not today. Maybe it’s because I saw a group of old friends last night. Maybe it’s because I had a macaron for breakfast, as I rushed to leave for work. Maybe it’s because I’m wearing contacts this morning, which makes me want to be a completely different person with a “new” set of eyes. Maybe it was because last night grounded me.

Lately, I’ve been reminded of this: Bad experiences are necessary evils. Strength is utterly important. Rising from the ashes, so to say, is inspirational.

This morning on the GO Train, I was thinking about what everyone said about the old lady. They could be right, and believe me, I’ve treaded on that possibility but I wanted to keep my hopes alive. Somewhere in my mind, I really think I could see her again. Somewhere in my mind, miracles are completely possible, rare but possible. Somewhere in my mind, making peace with myself is more important than the fact that I’m going there for the second time, despite it being an expensive city etc.

The first time allow for mistakes, the second time for redemption, the third time for forgivness. Let's hope by the time I come back, I won't have to repeat the second.

Heading out to St. Lawrence Market in a short while….have a spectacular day, everyone!

Tidbits

Random tidbits that happened or been happening in the last little while:

- My journal entries are getting longer and longer, more and more philosophical
- I love bookstores that are not like Indigo/Chapters due to intimacy
- I found this really cool art supplies store on Bloor St.
- after almost a year, I finally watched Dark Knight and it was really captivating
- Am loving fresh pastries lately, as long as they don't have too much sugar
- My shoes and book collections should be put on hold, if I want to venture anywhere into my life dreams
- I love mature and deep conversations with certain individuals
- Been listening to a lot of blues music, calming, serenading and soothing
- movies: starting to really like the indie and artsy films, so much more depth
- not as excited about Paris anymore which was completely what I was expecting. Pretty sure that will change when I'm on the plane.
- another small artsy trip in the works
- Holding off Vancouver, HK/Taiwan/China, Australia YET AGAIN (T, K, and CL - I know, I know haha)
- balanced friendships are the best kind. And the easiest
- surface level relationships are so damn boring and bland
- People around the same age or older than I am who are still throwing childlike tantrums should get some adult schooling
- people who have sex for that corporate ladder should fall harder in life
- I feel really sad for people who have to settle for someone who are so far from their ideal, perhaps because I'm always pitying one of the two.
- The little missteps in life really bugs someone like me who is too anxious and does not have much patience.
- Marriage is an institution, not a sacred bond. Thus, the desperation and the rush.
- Clingy people, UGH!!
- People need to be more spiritual than religious
- I have a deep grudge against people who have been spoon fed their whole life, resulting in their snobbery towards other people, yet envious that they have half their worries cut out for them as opposed to someone like me, always struggling
- people's true colors are quite frightening
- Had a really great afternoon at Edwards Gardens with one of my favorite people
- had the best fish and chips the other day
- perfect strolling weekends with great company
- lost 5 lbs within a month. It's been THAT stressful though I had a great support system. I have to gain it back so I can fit my shoes better.

This is too long haha.

Move and Be Moved

As soon as my left feet stepped into the front door of my house, my little sister greeted me with, “Did you hear? Michael Jackson died!”

A little appalled, when only hours earlier, I had read about Farah Fawcett passing away. I am not the least bit surprised at the regular suspects on my facebook’s news feed, all feeling something for a man. This particular man.

To many kids and teenagers growing up in North America, Michael Jackson was a regular household name, his music regularly broadcasted but never failed to lose its appeal. To me, growing up in Pakistan, my early exposure to music was of Mandarin or Pakistani descent. One of my very first exposures to English music was Michael Jackson’s “Heal the world”, even if I “knew” that he had bleached his skin.

To a mere 8 year old girl living in a country torn by poverty and war, the lyrics had moved a syllable in my nerve, even though I never fully understood what it meant. In my very first mp3 player, given by a few friends, one of the songs I had to hear was “Heal the world”. I could listen to the song on repeat and still be moved. There is so much hope, so much want in those words to strive for love in our human race.

Still, I can’t help but wonder and look at his death critically.

His music and dance has affected so many people that they are very willing to look past the allegations of his pedophilic nature, his very out-of-norm personality. The man really does not fit well with the general norm of the society, but he has brought so many people together, inspired them and moved them. That is a lot of forgiveness and a lot of acceptance for a man whose art lets us move and be moved.

A lot of the commentaries out there have it absolutely right in celebrating his life, instead of grieving and mourning in our loss.

Michael Jackson, may you celebrate with us, knowing that we will remember you, just as you are, never plain and always entertaining.

One love to another

Dear One,

After tonight, I’ll be leaving for Auckland. Please forgive me for saying goodbye like this. I just wanted you to know that after all these years; your friendship meant the world to me. This perfect day with you was a tribute to us, to our never wavering hope of strength that took us here. You held my hand for all the red and blue marks of my life. I take and give no apology for the hurt exchanged between us because I know it made us for better people, better friends.

I love you like it would make me soar and make me fly higher each time. You freed me from all the pain I once felt about romance. I hope you understand we can’t be together because I believe love only binds people and turns into resentment from all the lost freedom. Call me selfish but I only want to savor the best part of you.

After all these years, I grabbed onto my emotions so I can finally write this letter to you. I grabbed onto your interpretation and your impressions of me so I could remember them for us. Actions may speak louder than words but for once, I wanted the words to speak louder, to be a better translation between us. I wanted you to reminisce, 10 years down the road, that you loved me well, your love carried me to many places and will continue for the rest of my life.

Forever yours and always,
True Love

His knees gave way and the letter slipped from his hand. I can’t believe you said goodbye first.

Paris

I want to relive the following experiences:
- getting lost because for some reason, I love that. It creates a sense of adventure, I suppose
- feeling creative most of the time. Such an artsy city.
- setting foot in a place that has so much history, so much character, so much details
- sit in that really nice cafe, with the sun shining in my face, while I write my postcards with a cup of cappuccino well within my reach
- that surreal feeling I had when I was on Pont des Art, overlooking the Seine River.

I don't find the city the least bit pretentious, or that the people are rude etc. There's an animosity to the city that I really like.

I'm afraid that a 7 day trip will still not be enough.

Two halves of a whole

I suppose it was a long time coming and I had held out hopes for a long time, arguably too long. It's time for a lot of things: realizing that keeping the family together is rather cumbersome. Realizing that nothing is ever normal. Realizing that once a heart breaks, anything that comes in the attempt of piecing it together would be deemed as resentment. Realizing that the steps to signing that paper is probably the easiest part of this whole journey. Realizing that the only comparison of love I ever had will amount to two signatures on that piece of paper, signifying the complete opposite. Realizing that as a child, as an adult, as a loved one, that there is nothing I can do about it. It is just not within my control nor can I make it better for all of us. The pain of witnessing this whole thing coming down is just as bad as the two people who are going to decide this.

It's really easy for the third party to say, "Let it go, Jenn. You should be supportive instead because they're your parents." But when you see them playing for the attention of their own kids, vying for their affection; you know, this is only the beginning of another ending that slipped away in resentment, in unspoken feelings and in harsh words.

Thank YOU for trying to give me the rational perspective.
Thank YOU for being the first one.
Thank YOU for trying to reassure me.

It's not that you three didn't help, it's just that I feel incredibly sad at how life played out for 7 people.

The Irony of Political Correctness

Some of the guidelines behind the idea of being politically correct is ironically, still offensive. Terms like homophobic, socially challenged, cosmetically different, least best, differently sized etc., still have some sort of negative connotation, despite its best efforts to masquerade the level of offensiveness.

It seems like in today’s world, any chances of offending someone is deemed to be politically incorrect, the subject of the cause of political incorrect phrase deemed to be blamable and the subject of the political incorrect phrase (or the receiving party) almost pitiable.

On a grander picture, there is this ostensible fear: fear of truth, the truth that may deprive the esteem of someone. Indirectly, it violates the principle of honesty being the best policy. How much of the alternate phrases that are being phased out into our media is politically correct, is a better disguise? The alternate phrases are objectively and arguably, politically incorrect in itself.

Homophobic: why should anyone be labeled homo in the first place? To first, objectify the difference, then categorize them as fear-related seems to be an implicit violation of human rights.

Socially challenged: instead of embracing the uniqueness and differences of people who can contribute to the social culture, we embark on their differences as a challenge of the standard, like it is some sort of a negative connotation.

Cosmetically different: I believe this to be a subjective viewpoint, and to vocalize or note something like that in an objective article, defeats the purpose of the supposedly objective and fundamental arguments.

Least best: implicit criticism of not being good enough.

Differently sized: Again, subjective. Implicitly implying that there should be a norm for size, and the receiving party of the term should or should not conform to the norm.

As a society, we are so readily labeling anybody who is different from us, quick to judge, quick to differentiate that it has become innate in us to speak and articulate the differences, and then call it the freedom of speech. Frankly, even as I am writing this as objectively as I can, I too, often make the mistake of being politically incorrect, quite repeatedly.

In the end, political correctness is really just a roundabout of obscurity stemmed from fear without much alternate solution.

The little bout of happiness

There's nothing more in the world I want than for those I hold dear and near to my heart, to be happy.

The general advice is that happiness is what you make of it. The key is to look for the silver lining, to not let other sources of negativity get into you. The likelihood of the opposing argument is you can't get happiness if you have all sorts of negative distractions that disturbs your center, that when life gives you plenty of lemons, you make lemonade and you end up being unhappy with the result.

I stand for none of that right now, though at different parts of my life, I've stood on both of those grounds.

I think happiness stems from experiences. If you have had mostly negative experiences, it is harder to attain happiness. Likewise, if you have had mostly positive experiences in life, your chances of happiness improves.

In taking into account for the individuals who have had mostly positive experiences, but still is not happy; or mostly negative experiences but still is happy: I pose the following argument.

Ultimately, happiness is learning from those experiences, and altering them in such a way that you can either look past the pain, and find the point where you can emotionally remove yourself to go back to that center. Or, you can remember the positive experiences and go back to it again and again, to feel that emotion, to take you back to the center.

Attitude

You kill people with kindness, hoping to create an alternative to the hostile environment; instead, it turns around to be an expectation. The surprise element is no more, and you either have to top-up your level of kindness or you kill the idea of kindness altogether. In my case, I pick and choose, because the virtue of patience has been thinned out and pretty much depleted like the ozone layer.

Candy day today at work and the following were my fortunes in my Perugia chocolates:

An ideal husband is unmarried. – [Yes, I’m likely to steal people’s husband and make ‘em mine. I know this sounds so wrong but there’s something appealing about a man who’s taken. I suppose it’s like this: if he’s someone treasure, then my savageness tempts and prompts me to steal. Fortunately, I have been on the other side so my logical side will calm my temptation. Haha, as soon as I finished the above thought, I realized I should add a very important disclaimer: not all men who are taken because I often ponder about their "good" qualities ]

Real friendships can be enjoyed in silence. – [If only this were true…haha…obviously this does not hold true for one of my very close friend. I’ve complained quite often that I want some peace in the car or on the trip.]

Loving a person right vs. Loving a right person

In the past year, I’ve given the above a lot of thought. Neither of which I have done successfully in the past. However, I’m attempting to do that now. It’s a start. I’ve learned that to love someone, it doesn’t mean you have to be with him almost all the time. To love someone, you can silently wish him well. You could sit beside him and not have to tell him how you feel. You could just give and not ask for anything in return. You could just listen to his life story, be inspired, acknowledge his faults and love him nonetheless. It really can be silently expressed.

In that coffee shop, I once told my best friend that I’m unable to love someone so innocently again, to just give without asking for anything in return. He said that it’s really sad. I said it’s realistic. It’s funny, for the rather emotional me, I’m always weighing the pros and cons when it comes to romantic relationships.

But I was wrong again. There was a special him that I’ve been loving the right way, even though we’re far from right for each other. The moment passes, but the feelings that lingered, I believe, made me relearn.

The guy on GO train

Every morning, I get on a specific cart of the GO train. For about two months now, there's this smiley guy who looks familiar to me. I'm not the only one staring haha because I can tell he's doing the same thing. Well, yesterday while waiting for the delayed train, he was saying "so busy" in Hakka to another guy who used to go to our restaurant. So I realized that I've met this guy when I was a teenager. It's kinda cool that I've seen quite a few of our old Hakka customers on the GO train. Even more cool that they recognize me and say hello. I used to know at least their last names but I've forgotten most of them by now. Sometimes I miss working at the restaurant. Anyways, one of these days when I muster up the courage, I'll start with a friendly hello.

Handle With Care

It's Sunday. I woke up early, read, cleaned, brewed my mid-day coffee and it's now my casual writing time.

I can't thank Eric enough for giving me Jodi Picoult's newest book, Handle With Care as a gift. The book was riveting, emotional, page-turner, and very informative. A lot of the perspectives in the book are something my family and I have certainly trod on and explored in the past. Willow's Type III Osteogenesis Imperfecta is nowhere near as drastic as Muscular Dystrophy - FSH. Amelia's emotional troubles are nowhere close to my personal struggles as a sister who witnesses physical, spiritual, emotional pain day in and day out. Charlotte and Sean remind me that there is no visibly bright black and white line for wrongful birth, abortion, and love. Charlotte and Piper's relationship is a reminder that anything can come in between of the best of friendship.

Despite all of those issues and some, does it mean we should stop living, put up a great wall and distance ourselves just because we've been disappointed? I used to be the kind of person who receives pain, and visit the pain until I grow immune to it. It's probably partly why some people around me think I'm forgiving. Nowadays, I inflict pain, or I turn my back on those painful familial relationships, romantic relationships or friendships not because I'm no longer brave, but because I've given up. I've given up on trying to get people to see the positive side and somewhere along the lines, I've given up on being optimistic myself. I've given up on people who don't try and meet me halfway. On a larger extent, I've forgotten that they too have a lot of struggles and choices to make. I've basically put up a white flag and didn't even call it a truce; instead, I've just walked away and told myself that the other party and I just don't click, will just not get along.

Basically, all the grey areas of my life, I've divided them into a black and white issue. It clears up the doubts and the questions in the attempt to rationalize the kind of person I am, the kind of person I want to be and the kind of people I want to keep in my life. Mark calls this my bitchy side, which is not a negative thing at all. I just think it's time to go about things differently than before, and I really don't care about what they think, or how they want to treat it. The way I see it, I'm not pushing people out of my life, I'm only making it clear that this is what I want. They can either stay in or stay out, it's really a very simple choice, much like I can stay in or stay out of their lives. For so long, I've catered to what they want, to go about things their way, that it's just time to change things around. The way I've handled things before, it was my choice before, just as it's my choice today to make the other choice.

Albert Einstein once said, "Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile." I'd rebut that and argue that a life lived for solely others is a life less worthwhile. The brittleness of human bond is just that, it doesn't matter how much you protect it, how much padding you put around it; it only matters to how much you want to accept it and take it for whatever value it's worth today.

The following are some quotes from the book that I felt were very articulate of human bond:

“I think you can love a person too much. You put someone on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what’s wrong – a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don’t even realize what you look like, how far you’ve deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else.”

“Maybe you expected marriage to be perfect – I guess that’s where you and I are different. See, I thought it would be all about making mistakes, but doing it with someone who’s there to remind you what you learned along the way. And I think we were both wrong about something. People always say that, when you love someone, nothing in the world matters. But that’s not true, is it? You know, and I know, that when you love someone, everything in the world matters a little bit more.”

“Besides the obvious difference, there was not much distinction between losing a best friend and losing a lover: it was all about intimacy. One moment, you had someone to share your biggest triumphs and fatal flaws with; the next minute, you had to keep them bottled inside. One moment, you’d start to call her to tell her a snippet of news or to vent about your awful day before realizing you did not have that right anymore; the next, you could not remember the digits of her phone number. “

“Maybe you had to leave in order to really miss a place; maybe you had to travel to figure out how beloved your starting point was.”

“But love wasn’t about sacrifice, and it wasn’t about falling short of someone’s expectations. By definition, love made you better than good enough; it redefined perfection to include your traits, instead of excluding them.”

“When you think you’re right, you are most likely wrong.”

“Things that break – be they bones, hearts or promises – can be put back together but will never really be whole.”

“You can miss a person you’ve never known.”

From witless to shitless

Perhaps of my early-on visceral attitude on so many aspects of life that I am now utterly disabled at going about things in a cerebral process. Much less chopping any situation in a rationalized manner. Until today, 5 months after the fact.

I've shared only the physical details with a few friends, but when it came right down to the middle murky ones, I've conveniently skipped it. My attempt at writing this down is my very feeble atonement to mark this tangibly and let it dissipate from my memory, once and for all.

Last October, I was standing on Pont des Art, savoring the silence, the freedom and the solitude. I was mesmerized by the beauty and the calm of the Seine River, the surrounding rich-in-green trees, the intricate structure of the Louvre, and drawn in to the Parisian animosity. At one point, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't hear an old woman creep up beside me. She was clearly poor, and asking me for money, in French. I politely walked away though I was scared witless. She followed me several times, and in each passing, I would walk faster and faster to the point where I'd run away from her. [To defend myself, a lot of people did this after seeing her too.]

She was wearing few layers of tattered clothes, her head bundled up with a dirty blue scarf so that you could only see her face with a few strands of her grey hair. She had a really bulky and thick nose, grey eyes, cracked lips and very crinkly wrinkled skin. She has a lot of difficulty walking because of her broken right ankle, so broken in fact, that she drags her ankle on the planks of the bridge. Her right ankle and foot together literally form a 'L' shape. Her voice was so hoarse and raspy, probably from dehydration.

I only had one eye contact with this woman, and it was impressionable enough for me to think that she looked like the evil witches in the Snow White, Rapunzel, Henzel and Gretel etc. Since that day, I've had recurring dreams about her. About 5 or 6 times. I usually wake up in fear. Every time after dreaming about her, I brush it off and carry on my routine because honestly, I am too busy to rationalize this.

This morning, I told a friend about these recurrent dreams. She told me to pray about it and thinks it's my conscience tugging at me for not giving money or food to the very old woman. This afternoon on the GO train, I, after 5 months, finally explored this on my own, in the seclusion of my head: it might be God testing my almost now non-existent compassion. Tonight, among slews of other conversation topics with my best friend, proposed my dreams to be the old woman's passing spirit who has come to haunt me. I was then scared shitless.

He then attempted to rationalize my spiritual reasoning, that God would know what I fear, and would never present himself to me that way. Furthermore, I will surely not fly to Paris to find this scary old witchy woman, feed her with food or shower her with money, just to ease my conscience. So my only options are to pray about it or just accept that the witchy old woman has passed on and is haunting me. Neither of which seem to be cerebrally possible, in part or in entriety. Hmmm...

Glass and clone

Someone with two very capable hands and unlimited patience can take a few fragmented piece of glass and piece them together. It may look put-together to the unsuspecting eye but to the keen eye, it's just a cloned attempt. The clone can't pretend to be put-together because it has scars and unsightly marks to prove it, to remind it. The capable hands also know they can't fully piece it to the way it was, but settles for the clone for what it has become.

So, how are they going to meet in the middle?

Aging

Last Saturday while having dinner with an old friend, I asked him if he worries about getting old. He, very nonchalantly, replied, "nope".

Reason I asked him was because I have a lot of friends who are either hitting the 25 mark or just graced it. Among them, two are getting married and worried about not having friends anymore; one is insanely worried about the aging of everything; one is hanging on to dear life every last minute of being 25; and one is thinking that it's the end of a what you call "fun" life.

So, back to this friend. His reason was that when you start admitting you're old, it all goes downhill from there. I've heard this statement before, but that was really back to when I was 18 or so. It just hit me more last Saturday and it's been on my mind since. It kind of rings true because once you worry about aging, you worry about all the responsibilities and social stigmas of aging: finding a boyfriend or girlfriend, settling down for anything in life that's just alright instead of what you really want, curbing your habits and curtailing them to what society deems you should be doing at a certain point of life, etc. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it just seems more "rushed".

I've never thought much about aging. I've only thought about what I wanted to do before I hit 30. That's about as far as my imagination has taken me. I think when your life gets so absorbed with life, you don't think of age much, you take it as the day comes, as the challenges hit you. There are so many things to do that age is such an insignificant trivial knowledge.

It's all the other things that come with aging that's so much greater and in hindsight, so much better. You get all these sets of experiences in life, all these sets of your own comfortable do-s and don't-s, and you use them to embrace the next day with more confidence and more firmness of what drives you.

Walk the fine line

Slumdog Millionaire moves beyond words, it's a reminder of a home long buried in materiality, to people who dive in to the heart of everything that matters.

It fascinates me that someone like Jamal's life brushes on the fine line of luck and misfortune, yet all the misfortune precisely makes him value whatever "luck" there's left for him. On a retrospective, all his luck were heavily disguised as his misfortunes. It reminds me of the home where people scrounged savagely for whatever the better of human nature has left behind. It's dirty, wild with raw emotions that are brought forefront and revealed through their eyes.

This is much unlike what is happening around me: people are self-interested, even if it jeopardizes the reputation of their career and their family. Money talks without integrity, with a loud voice that bounces off even a filled room. It's almost like humanity has to be thrown out the window everyday to justify that asset size.

All in all, this is a must-watch movie, with much room for character development, both for the actors/actresses and ourselves.

Hold out for more

Splinter,
on a rock,
small stones,
scattered.

Settle,
for less,
or hold out,
for more.

Choose,
among them,
the one,
who'd hurt the least.
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This is probably the simplest one I've written, ever. Am trying to simplify this complex thought process that's been on my mind. You could say I'm trying to convey my feelings really loudly with just a few words.

I wrote an email to my best friend last weekend, poured my feelings out, putting them into the rawest words I can find. He replied back with a very simple response to my rhetorical question. So, the style here is partly inspired by him.

To love is to be selfish

Part of my job is that I have to account for every transaction that goes in the client’s account, with their permission, then document that permission and then document everything else. In every request, every step has to be permissible and well (if over) documented. This is because of fear, fear of lawsuits, fear of not being responsible, fear of being accused wrongly etc.

On the grander scheme of perspective, we’ve built a nation on fear and possession, fearful of possibilities (more so on the negative ones), on challenges that may throw us off at our game, scatter our logic, and our process. We’ve built in so much selfishness, to not get hurt, to not get the short end of the stick. Do you think it’s because we’re determined to get the best for ourselves or because we’re built to be innately selfish? Then again, love can brew out of that need to be selfish and possessiveness.

I mean, think about it, the brighter end of the line on being selfish is that we love ourselves enough. It doesn’t sound like an appealing thought to someone else, but really, everyone can love himself or herself enough to protect themselves, to not let our stomach hurt, to not let the bad people in our lives, in our homes and so on. Similarly, we can love ourselves enough to let in other people who can love us just as well, if not more.

So, maybe, love is about being selfish, increasingly being selfish can just simply mean that we love ourselves increasingly over time.

I've been trying really hard to write lately, but as soon as I have the first sentence down, I stop and proceed to save my one line sentence on my Mac. I think it's partly because I've deciphered all my thoughts out in my private journals or with my best friend that I don't feel the need to write a more paraphrased entry here. Or I muster up my thoughts on the GO train and then forget it all by the time I get home. And all the unfinished stories are just sitting there, taking up micro spaces in my hard drive.

The closest relationship to writing in the next few months would be all the proof reading I'll be doing for my friend's course. Thank God he at least writes good English haha. Or I'm hoping (I kid, if you're reading this haha). I just can't stand the thought of having to rewrite the whole essay for someone, especially since I tend to use a formal tone on writing in general. Then there's the problem of actually understanding what I'll be editing haha. I suppose engineering will be a lot easier to understand than my sister's biology paper.
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In other thoughts, the rest of my January's going to be so busy but there's so many exciting events going on! Sometimes, I say yes to things at the spur of the moment, then as the day gets closer, I want to cancel cuz of over exhaustion. haha, I'm really feeling the age nowadays.

Right now, I'm trying to fit a particular trip into my tentative vacations. I'm going to be an aunt to my best cousin's baby!! At first, I was planning (in my head) for 2 vacations but now I have to cancel one of them, or find a way to fit China into this too.