Cow Crap

Something I did in my childhood is coming back to get me. Or else, I can't explain the constant feel that life is in disarray. So now come a mini flood, not big enough to cause any upheaval, but enough to put things in disorder.

These companies insist of putting out their statements after 7pm, throwing my schedule off since I had to stay back and write. I did not leave my seat since coming into, except for 5 mins. No food for the whole day. Finally, when all stories are filed, I went to the pantry. Shock!! Someone kept away all the tibits, all the chocolates, all the crackers, all the cereals, all the chips. Oh dear. I took some grapes, the only food left in the pantry in addition to some oranges and some funny looking prunes that are dark green in colour. Dark green? That would be the colour of my face if that cow persists on dumping in my hole.

Grapes. Great. My first real food in the last 12 hours.

10:30pm. Finally. Left the office. Slipped into my car and drove. Shortly later, I felt a cloud of pressured air filling my lungs, not a lot, but just enough to make my chest hard and uncomfortable. The lights in front of me started to be dispersed, threatening to ruin my vision. I was salivating more than usual. Some sour-tasting liquid kept filling the sides of my mouth. I swung the car to the side after making a turn, stopped near the kerb and hit the hazard signal, which probably should be on on a more permanent basis, pushed open the door and threw up.

Smashed grapes, mostly chewed properly, some larger chunks, already attacked by enzymes from my rather active glands.

I saw the the vomit on the floor, had an image of my pathetic self throwing up unglamorously while the onlookers watched on. The thoughts made me want me to throw up more. And I did.

What happened? Really?

Must be that cow. It is shitting again.

Unadulterated Rubbish

Please ignore. I am just griping. Don't read further. Please.

You still reading? Heed my well-meaning advice, please!

I am going to gripe here, since my favourite audience for my griping is nowhere to be found. I knew that I would be relegated to a secondary place. This is very bad.

``So, how are you?""

``VERY BAD LAR,'' I wanted to gripe, but i couldn't, I was in the office. `` Just very bad, plus I just realised I am a rabbit-hole christian.''

``Wow. I don't know what that is. But sounds bad.''

At that point, I was deciding between crying or laughing. Crying because things are just bad. Laughing because I realised how pathetic I am to be so ill-equipped to handle life. I should deregister myself as a human being. Where is that logbook?

Glitches, minor ones, just creeped up and spolit my perfect work, no matter how hard I tried. Like someone has a mind to sabo you. It doesn't really make sense.

I am not after glamour or status or anything that are coveted by others. All I want is to lead a quiet life, work hard, get a salary, pay for my bills, do some sports. That is just it. And I did just that. Stay out of trouble, stay out of gossip sessions with my colleagues. I am low profile as far as work is concerned, as far as my social life is concerned, actually as far as everything concerned. I live in a hole. Last week, what did I do, I worked really hard and my only social event was tennis on Wednesday. Ok, maybe that gym trip on Sat is a social event also, reading on a tread mill and watching MTV, without a group of others, some random, running at the same time.

What I am saying is that I am trying my best stay out of trouble? It is like staying in a hole, however hot it is, so that you won't accidentally step on some cow dungs while walking. But some cow came and unknowingly shit in your hole, the exact hole that you are hiding in. Of course, that cow won't know because why would a decent human being hide in a hole. Cows are cows.

Ok, that is quite funny image. Let me laugh for a while.

Now, back to griping.

Ya, that stupid cow. Why? Isn't it irritating that that happen?

Now I feel like a stupid cow for griping on my blog. How on earth will this help? Then again, I am stupid, I don't figure these things. So I am griping here, it is a reflection of how little resources I have been given.

I am trying to think. What exactly did I do to deserve this? Must be something. Discontentment, bitterness, thinking the world is unfair are all caused by sins. But what did I do? Have I been sinning? I have been hiding in a hole, minimising my contact with people, what harm could I possibly do to the world? Maybe somewhere in my childhood, I did something. Did I bully a boy in nursery school? Hmmm..........Ok, even if I did, that was character building for that boy. I was serving a greater purpose. I am sure he has turned out to be some ultra alpha male by now. So can't be that bad.

Actually, I am quite tired of typing to gripe and I am beginning to feel stupid doing this.

At this point, i guess it is best that I stop. I am sure there are things tommorrow that would happen that would affirm my stupidity, without me adding to it.

Rabbit-hole Christians

A friend sent me this after I told her I spent most of my time with Christians. Am I a rabbit?


Rabbits are timid creatures that pop out of their holes every morning, try to avoid everything ( except other rabbits), eat their food, and jump back into their holes in the evening. Whew! We made it through another day, they'd say if they could talk.

Rabbit- hole Christians are a lot like like that. They eat lunch with other Christians at work and relate almost exculsively with fellow- believers in their church. They avoid socializing with unbelievers and wouldn't think of accepting an invitation to one of their parties. No wonder unbelievers equate being a Christian with a kind of aloof self- reghteousness.

No one could say that about Jesus. He actually invited Himself to the home of Zacchaeus, a notorious tax collector. His congeniality among disreputable people earned Him the title of ' a friend of tax collectors and sinners'. ( Matthew 11:19). he reached out to such people because He knew He couldn't help them without becoming their friend. Jesus never said anything He shouldn't have said, nor did He laugh at any off color stories. he won people's respect by caring for them.

Jesus has equipped us with the Holy Spirit and assured us that He'll be with us so we can follow His example. Let's guard against being rabbit- hole Christians.

'Jesus leaves us in the world to be a witness to the world.'

In the world, out of the world

There are things to do. You do them and you can’t stop. One after another. You wonder why your body is aching, your eye bags are showing. You rather spend Sunday afternoon sleeping than to go out for an afternoon movie or sweating out at the court, like you used to. You let the world passes you by, forgetting your priorities, forgetting what you are here for.

Then one day, you stood by the lift. You noticed someone else waiting for the lift, standing beside you. You saw him and recognized his face. You vaguely remembered talking to him briefly, but you didn't know his name. The fact was you didn't bother to find out his name.

``D…what happened to your headset?’’

``I don’t know. People are complaining they can’t hear me. I don’t know why?’’

Minutes later, he returned with a new headset.

``Is that a new one? This is so nice. I like the cushioned earphones. Nice…’’

……

The guy with a familiar face stood by the lift beside you, unsure whether he should smile at you because you looked like you didn't recognise him.

Guilt-striken, you smiled brightly.

``You are B….’’ You said his name, reading a tag he still had around his neck. Yes, you changed my headset for me, I remember.

He looked at the laptop bag you were carrying. ``Is this your first conference?’’

I was stumped. How does he know I am covering a conference tomorrow? How does he even guess it is my first conference?
``err….yes, my first conference. But I am not the main reporter covering it.’’

``Oh. That would take pressure off you.’’

Stumped again. How observant? He spoke as if he lived in your world, that was small, damp, cramped with stuff and with very few people.

Of course, he knew I was a new hire, because his team had to prepare my terminal. Of course, he knew I was covering an event because his team prepared my traveler.

I stared at him and frowned a little.

Isn’t it my job to do this, to care about people, to always be ready with some comforting words, to be aware of the world around me, instead of letting it pass me by, instead of mopping at home because a story was spiked, instead of wanting to do nothing except to write another story, instead of letting everything else slip because you want to do the many things you want to do.

``Are you walking this way?’’

``huh?’’

``Why are you walking this way?’’

``huh?’’

``Oh you are driving.’’

``huh? oh.''

I frowned at his observation. I could be that way too if I care more. But I didn’t. The first thing I said to a colleague who stepped into the office yesterday, after he had flown all the way from London was: ``Hi, pleased to meet you. When should we discuss the coverage plan for the conference?’’

``Tommorrow?’’

``Ok. That’s cool.” I said and went back to my work.

Oh dear. That was pretty cold.

``Where do you live?’’ attempting at conversations instead of running off to do the many things I want to do.

``XXXX..’’

``Huh??’’ Don’t be stupid. Focus. Pay attention. ``Oh, there. How lucky. Near XXX. Good food.’’

``Yes, but I am not that near..I amm ssxxlkll fff and places like Holland Village.that ..ssddd ...nice.'...'' His voice was fading. I couldn't hear him. I couldn't see his face. Focus. Pay attention. You can't care if you don't pay attention.

``Oh. ya, but you dont' look fat. My friend stays there. He is not fat either.'' His face was blank. Why did I say that? Didn't pay attention. that's why. ``Oh, cos you live near a place with such good food. I would be eating a lot.'' A poor attempt to mask your insincerity.

Oh well, I will do better next time.

Leaving and some thoughts on blogging

The thought of not blogging scares me awhile. Then I was tempted to continue doing it secretly. Then I thought, I shouldn't. Then a resolution came to mind, I can still do it within a confined space.

Then it will be at least a week's work of cutting and pasting, saving my work. Started my first blog end-2004 and my tagline was "waiting for another shoe to drop.'' I wonder why's that? Then I moved, I know why. But I don't know why my life at that time was about waiting for another shoe to drop? What does that mean? What a stupid phrase. I must be an idiot then.

Another transition. Got to be wiser in terms of choosing the next blog. cutting. This blog contains at least a year's entries. I will lose all the comments on the blog. Or maybe I shouldn't move them over. I should just leave all these here and start a fresh one.

Hmmmm...all these.technicalities are boring me.

Phantom of the Opera

He helped. He is always there when I need more help, but I don't know his face.

He allowed me to interview him during my first work at work, when i was assigned to do a story. It was year end, everyone was on leave, taking leave for long vacation. It was hard to find someone who could lend credibility to my story.

I spent a few hours searching for a person. I panicked. I only had half a day. I only need one quote. Finally, I found him. He was willing to help, without much persuasion.

The story went up to the top screen, my first top play. So I was eternally grateful to him. I made a mental note that I would take him out for lunch and entertained him with my incessant chatting (yes. some do find it pretty entertaining)

A month later, I messaged him and offered to take him out. He said no.

How strange? Someone actually would reject having lunch with me, especially when I am buying? Rare.

I found out from him that he didn't like to be on record at all. He broke his own rules for me? how can that be? I was puzzled.

``I don't like to be interviewed. I try to avoid that actually.''

``Really? but you didn't show any resistance at that time. You just said yes when I called.''

No response.

``Anyways, I am really grateful. Can I buy you lunch, please? I said.

``No, it is alright. you don't have to buy me lunch for that. It was a small favour.''

``You have to eat, don't you?''

``I am getting fat. I really have to watch my weight?''

``Well, just a few more trips to the gym.''

No response.

``Seriously, if you don't want to eat, we can just have coffee.''

``No, just chatting here would be fine.''

There was a song in my head as we talked. I could hear it in my head.

(In sleep, he sang to me. In dreams he came....)

Is he very ugly?

(That voice which calls to me. And speaks my name.)

He responded to my every question whenever I messaged him online, helping me with my stories, taking time to give me insights to that complicated financial world. But he won't meet me. Does this person actually exist?

(and do I dream again?
For now I find
The phantom of the opera is there,
Inside my mind .........)

``xxx are so illiquid. how can you buy them as a fund which is always looking to exit a market or throw out a security if they don't work out?''

``D, you want yield. you moved down the curve. ''

(Sing once again with me
Our strange duet )

``why would they sell these products to you instead of to the banks? You are competition for business with the banks, moving into their space.''

``D, it is a dog's world out there.''

(and though you turn from me
to glance behind
The phantom of the opera is there
Inside your mind)

``So why would you prefer working in a XXX instead of a YYY. you both are yield-hungry.''

``D, you have a lot of questions.''

``is that why you don't want to meet me?'' ( every chance I get, i moved. I have to uncover his mask.)

(those who have seen your face
Draw back in fear
I am the mask you wear )

Stupid song. Stop it.

``Is that why you refused to meet me?'' I asked again, like a car rearing to go when the light turns green.

No response.

(t's me they hear )

Stop singing lar.

``I have to skip.,'' he said.

``Skip?'' Why does he have to skip? huh? like go skipping? Lose weight?

``I mean I have to go.'' Walau, want to go, say GO, why SKIP? I thought you want to skip to lose weight, then have lunch with me. chey.

``Maybe we will meet up next time.'' He left.

Really? Finally? but he left, without clarifying what he had said.

(In all your fantasies you always knew
That man and mystery )

walau, stop singing.

Small deal

`Hello'

`Hello,'' That lovely English accent. My favourite deep throat.

`So did you eventually do that story that I sent you?''

`Errr....., well.'

`You didn't.''

`No I didn't. The deal is too small?''

``37 million is too small. But you guys write about this guy from Goxxx Sxxx leaving his post to join hedge funds. That is not too small? Have you actually met that guy before? He is basically an idiot. You calling that a small deal?!!''

``Well, 37 million is not exactly big deal. It is on our database now.''

``Who is going to read your database?''

``Many of those who are historical data miners for small deals? Did any other reporter cover that?''

``Yes, every one else, including Horse and Hound.''

``Splendid. Horse and hound? You are really getting the publicity.''