Trust in Girl Power

  

In the wee small hours of the morning...

- It is natural to worry.
- It is best to keep things in perspective.
- It is important to just breathe.
- It is comforting to pray.
- It is tempting to make plans.
- It is crazy to make decisions.
- It makes sense to write.
- It is nice to be surprised by a brilliant idea.
- It is better to make sure you write it down.
- It is ok to be uncertain.
- It is an occasion for wishing.
- It is not the right time to call people.
- It is good to be grateful for blessings.
- It is ideal to go back to sleep.

Let the games begin

Am looking forward to September 15, and not just because of Paris, although certainly that's part of it. Once again, I am led by impulse into circumstances of uncertainty, a good measure of hopeful faith held tightly in my proverbial sweaty palms. What does the future hold? As Elphaba sings in poignant refrain, "Unlimited. My future is...unlimited." I just hope and pray it's not going to end up with me melting into my ruby shoes. Cryptic, yes, and I'm sorry. But until I know what I know, I can only know what I don't know. And that't just not interesting, not really. The abiity to do something, even the ability to do it well, does not always come with the desire to do it.

I'm looking forward to Studio 60 On Sunset Strip. At least, I think that's what it's called. I saw the ad for a new series from the makers of The West Wing. They brought back Bradley Whitford and Timothy Busfield and put them together with Amanda Peet and Matthew Perry aka Chandler Bing. Should be good fun.

I am looking forward to a weekend that's more leisurely and more restful than the one I just had.

I'm looking forward to following the advice of Debra Spark in her book, Curious Attractions Essays on Fiction Writing...once I have a little free time that is.

I'm looking forward to slowly moving from a state of less certainty to a state of more certainty. Even just a little more.

And then, I'm just looking forward...

What kind of person are you

Do you overthink a good thing?
Do you act on impulse?
Do you flee in the face of risk?
Do you hate to regret?
Do you go for the goal, regardless of the danger?
Do you act with confidence?
Do you believe in yourself?
Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

What kind of a person does that make you...

Happy Anniversary Francis Xavier Choir of St. Ignatius

  

Something's coming...

I don't know/what it is/but it is/gonna be great

So sayeth Sondheim and thus, I feel thusly. Despite the fact that things at the office could be a hell of a whole lot better, I feel the distinct opposite of John Irving's undertoad. Which is good, right? Good. It better be. It will be, whatever "it" is.

Celebrated the choir's first year anniversary yesterday. A small milestone but it felt good. Of course, that brought on a bout of CelesteS homesickness. How quickly things change. People came up to us to greet us and thank us, and that was gratifying. Then we walked to WestLake and gorged on yummy Kwapao (which I still recall Tanny eating in college teamed with chocolait in a tetra box), kikiam (which apparently here is called rather prosaicly, "prawn roll"), sweet sour pork, butter prawns, deep fried squid and salted fish fried rice - and happily toasted to a new year of prayer and music.

Tomorrow...have a shoot in the morning, lunch with people who enjoy analysing the publishing industry in this fine city state, and three client meetings. No time to go to the office, which works for me...why indeed wouldn't it. With any luck, a yoga class at 7am to kick off everything.

It just occured to me

Someone in my family (I can't remember now whether it was my sister or my Dad) told me about when they first watched Jurassic Park. Most of the group had already read the Crichton thriller, so the anticipation was high. Anyway, it was a small private premiere, and during that scene when the little girl finds the small dinosaur on the beach, one of my Dad's colleagues spoils the moment by yelping loudly and at a squeaky girlish pitch a split second before the little prehistoric predator attacks: "Oh no! It's the spitting kind!!"

After six years here, I can't help but make that same kind of yelp. 7 year old C reports that his classmates do it, why can't he? Then there's always the attention you need to pay on the sidewalks so you don't step into any hoktus. But my number one worst moment was sitting in the backseat of a cab as it zoomed across the ECP so I could get back to the office from lunch in town. All of a sudden, the cabbie rolled down his window, inclined his head out all too slightly to have made a real difference and ptewied into the wind. In that same half a second a droplet was blown back through his open window, to the backseat and onto my bare arm. Feeling it distinctly searing on to my skin, I let out a scream.

The spitting kind.

It was a moment so stupid and so disgusting, I just had to write about it.

Date Night

 

After dinner at Kazu, we saw HARD CANDY last night and enjoyed it immensely. What's not to enjoy? Provocative premise. Inventive plot. A tight, well-devised, dramatically paced screenplay. And great acting by non-Hollywood players. We didn't ask anyone to join us, mostly because we knew people would turn down seeing a movie about a teenage girl bent on revenge upon a pedophile. After all, R and C have claimed not to enjoy infidelity movies, science fiction and horror movies - we were fairly certain they wouldn't go for Hard Candy. To say it is a rather dark flick is an understatement. But really, it was dark chocolate. Devilishly good. The only person I can think of who would like it, off-hand, is Miko of the Musings.

Got home early and decided to put on THE BREAKUP with Vaughn and Aniston, but had to turn it off twenty minutes in; the inanity was just mind-boggling. Usually I watch anything with Aniston, even while being aware of her limitations and the tendency to fall back into Rachel-mode by default. Vince Vaughn is funny. But the problem with this movie is that it was ill-concieved, and while it was comedy,it wasnt the kind where tears run down your-cheeks and you clutch at your stomach. Nothing like NACHO LIBRE or even MEET THE PARENTS for that matter. Uncontrollable laughter. That's what I look for, sue me. Of course, THE BREAKUP, Hollywood flick that it is, will make more money than HARD CANDY. It's amazing the stupidity that makes money, and the intelligence that doesn't. Ironic and downright unfair.

Non-Sequitur: Happy Birthday, Omar. I read your blog by virtue of six degrees.

Ikaw naman! Wanted to comment but there was no comment mode. I'm certain you will enjoy your forays. It's still my hope that I will be able to attend one of your "beautiful people" soirees. You have a point; keep writing.  

10 Things to do when you're out of sorts

1. Yoga
2. Write a letter/email to someone you haven't spoken to in months
3. Watch Sex and the City season 4
4. Go for a hike somewhere green
5. Have a gelato
6. Recommit to an old goal
7. Allow yourself to be silent and alone
8. Read a good novel
9. Make a cup of tea
10. Pray

Happy Birthday Dad!

  

Something to think about

I love it when out of the blue, someone says something thought-provoking.

My office mate or as they say here, colleague D. at the office said: "90 per cent of all self-talk is negative. We should all try to reverse that and make our self-talk positive." I think that's true for many people. But here's another thought: I do know a more than a few people who are virtual fonts of positive self-talk and it's done out loud. The operative word being self. That can be a bit much, as well. Perhaps there's merit in keeping one's positive
self-talk ...to oneself.

Biker chicks

 

Sunday came and went like a flash. And now, I have that same Sunday night squeamishness I used to get as a child. Wish I could just rewind and play the weekend over and over again... 

TGIS!

Although I failed to get up this morning for the run I meant to take, I did manage some very thorough cardio. We decided to make a second visit to Pulau Ubin, a small rustic island off Changi Beach - just an eight minute pump boat ride away. The kids were thrilled, and it was better than the first time because there were much less people. Went for the tandem bikes and opted to do part of the ride on a dirt road trail - for major heart rate raising. All in all about one hour including two two-breaks. Afterwards, we had fresh buko juice, straight from the coconut before the pumpboat ride back. 4 dollars for the round-trip boat ride, 6 dollars for the tandem bike, and a dollar fifty for the coconut. Lots of fresh green clean air, pretty mangrove and sea scenes - really, what more could you ask for? Then it was a pizza and pasta lunch at our favourite spot, a drive around to explore nieghborhoods, gelato, home for a nap. And tonight, had home movie session screening of Shrek, after a yummy dinner of Chili and corn salad with pita chips!

A sublime Saturday...

What Tita Mariel Missed

 


A visit to the Singapore Science Centre and meeting a T-Rex named Sue! 

Tita Mariel's Mabilisan Visit

 

She was here for David Swenson's yoga workshop, which meant she was not with us for eight to ten hours of her two day visit (next time, stay longer). Still we managed two dinners out, Nacho Libre and an after-movie snack, as well as an hour long intense hiking session at Bukit Timah Nature Reserve. Then it was Pepperoni dinner, Estivo gelato...and lots of Magic Mike-ing. Fun fun, fun...

Next time, bring Tita Lara and stay longer! 

How it can happen

An old college friend came through town. We hadn't seen each other in a couple of years, but I had heard the great story of how she had met someone online and moved to another country to be with him. There was no news for awhile, and I wondered how it was going. And all of a sudden, this past weekend, she was here. We sat and had sandwiches and soup and coffee; everything was the same and yet everything was different. She was there. She was happy. It was a wonderful thing to see. Strange and wonderful how two people on opposite sides of the world can find each other and make that connection. And even greater that in these days, they can actually make the move, commit to the decision, and journey to their happiness, without having to wait for it to come to them. She regaled me with anecdotes, little tales of what their new life together is like, all the details of which I pulled together as though I were gathering my own little pile of colored confetti. They are now exploring the region, trying to decide in seemingly newly-wedded fashion where they will settle and make their life together.

This is not the only story. My mom told me another love story of the digital age. And my colleague at work yet another. People go on holiday in another country and meet someone, and from there they parlay it into something real. A romance. A relationship. No longer do you hear the antiquated, hum-drum or ho-hum? tales of highschool sweethearts or college courtships. This is the way it can happen these days, and when it works, just as it does conventionally, it's a wondrous thing, indeed.

It's all that matters

  

New addiction

It's amazing how you can start out ambivalent about someting, and then there's a shift, and you can be addicted to the very thing. Right now, am very deeply into Grey's Anatomy. Even though I get irritated by the lead and some of the plot lines are predictable, the effect of the series as a whole is pleasurable. Somehow, it all gets pulled together quite nicely and characters start growing on you. Non-sequitur: Finally saw Derailed with Clive Owen and Jennifer Aniston. Highly inventive. I grow O. Henry-esque in my old age in that I find immense pleasure in the unexpected. On the same note, have started rereading Roald Dahl for that same elusive satisfaction.

It seems at this point, I thirst (or is it hunger) for stories with irresistible once upon a times. This weekend, that Jack Black movie about nachos; going along with T and the Flo's despite my own misgivings. Should be good for a laugh or two.

Goal

December 13, 2006
123 56

Communicative vs. Uncommunicative

The theory is people have a tendency to be either one or the other, and the latter usualy has pejorative associations. Recent events at work and in general at home have led me to acknowledge my own difficulties as an admittedly overly communicative, dealing with a non. How is that situation and conflict to be resolved? The popular view is while people can be led to change, it can't be something that's forced. And change can only happen if the individual recognises the necessity to change. What then is the communicative person to do when this is the only way available to her to function. Is there such a thing as being overly communicative? Or is it the manner of communication that needs adjustment (even as I type this, I know that the answer to this question is affirmative.).

Can't help thinking that situations like these involve a stalemate of sorts, a compromise. Either that, or the person that can change should change... to accomodate? But what would be lost in that situation? Wouldn't the person be denying the true self? On the other hand, what can be done to lead the non to a more comfortable place where she/he can be encouraged to communicate. And yet, realistically, who has time for that? What would Dr. Phil say? The non communicative should just buckle down and do it, and the communicative should adjust his/her approach so as to be less confrontational and more cooperative. That's just exhausting.

The truth is, the communicative who must temper, deny and manage communication needs, which of course, are vast, in order to accomodate and encourage the non, experiences as much pain, difficulty and discomfort as the non learning to be less non.