what did you do when you were young?

2 weekends ago, some of us were making the last minutes of sunday stretch by swapping childhood memories. It was amazing how light-hearted and happy we got just by recalling past silliness. Nostalgia has a magic of its own. Somehow reminiscing about the past is such a human way of forming connections: it's always interesting to get the know what someone was like before you had ever met them.

We discovered surprising little links between the hijinks we got up in school to what we were ended up doing as careers. The irrepressible Redbeanfish was devising codes for her little Famous Five gang to communicate in; enterprising CL was once hauled up by her primary school teacher for being an illegal sticker seller: she had rubbed her mother's perfume on ordinary stickers to latch onto the then-popular "scratch-and-sniff" sticker craze' ; I was always creating stuff to share with my classmates: I cut bad albums with badly written lyrics superimposed on popular songs. I created magazines full of hand-drawn pictures of my childhood mates as celebrities exiting out of limos, hand in hand with hot guys. I had a flourishing little business where I made paper dolls for friends and regularly updated the dolls' wardrobes with new fashion lines of paper clothes.

We also discovered surprising propensity for mischief that lay behind mild mannered faces: A used to make flying leaps off her family balcony in defiance of her screaming mother; SpyMaster used to hide snails in unsuspecting provision shop owners' deep freezers, in between launching water bombs on innocent passerbys.

There were also anecdotes of how childhood shaped your ethical outlook: I will always remember how I cheated on my chinese exam in Primary Six. My chinese teacher had seen through my pathetic attempts to cover up and chose not to reprimand me during the exam. Instead, after all papers were handed up and all people had left, she took me aside to tell me she saw everything I did and told me never to cheat again. It was pure grace. I never expected it from a chinese teacher I had always associated with fiercely knitted brow, tightly pursed lips and a red pen of fury. I never cheated on a test ever again.

You gladly leave some things behind in childhood: your secret and ill-thought crush on Jordan Knight from NKOTB, your deep desire to go for a Richard Marx concert, your notion that Richard Clayderman was the classiest music on earth, your ill-fitting pinafores.

But some things you should just never let go: your irrepressible search for cheap fun, your belief that a good day is always just around the corner, the simple presumption that you were creative and the notion that all you needed was to make the most of today. Tomorrow would worry for itself.

As to all my friends: I raise a glass of ribena (or if you prefer, lukewarm banana-flavoured UHT milk in square little cartons sitting in the sun) to all our todays and tomorrows. Grow like a Champion, Grow.

How glad I am for such lovely company along the way. :)

tagged :)

have been so offline that i did not realise i got tagged by Miz C all the way from Beijing. Ok, just for you, babe. :)

Seven Dreams Before Death:
1. See Italy again
2. Kiss a guy that I love
3. Publish a School of Thought book
4. Visit Auschwitz
5. Start a youth ministry
6. Have the perfect hostess' kitchen
7. Start and finish my own graphic novel

Seven Things I Can't Do In This Lifetime
1. Be perfect
2. Kiss a guy that I don't love
3. Give up dreaming
4. Give up carbs
5. Drive
6. Look anything like Stephanie Sun
7. Understand accountancy and the theory of relativity. (i tried many times and failed)

Seven Things that Attract Me
1. a man who has learnt to be grateful for all that he has
2. humbleness in any company
3. wisdom to listen
4. an ability to laugh out loud
5. ability to both offer honest criticism and honest praise
6. an open, generous, kind heart
7. Self-awareness

Seven Things I Say
1. "Okaaay, can you rephrase that in another way?" (classroom)
2. "Think...don't just wait for my answer....think!" (classroom)
3. "Wah lau...."
4. "orrrr?! Win already lor!"
5. "Oooh...!" (for good food, nice clothes, smarmy attempt to make fun of people etc)
6. "...(random made-up tune)..."
7. "I don't THINK so...!"

Seven Books I Love (guilty pleasures included)
1. The Song of Ice and Fire series (George RR Martin)
2. The Dragonlance series - Chronicles and Legends only
3. Donald Miller's Looking for God Knows What
4. CS Lewis' Mere Christianity
5. The Bible - especially the Book of John
6. Philip Yancey's What's So Amazing about Grace / Soul Survivor
7. Doestevsky's Brothers Karamazov

Seven Movies I Love (guilty pleasures included)
1. Memento - too clever by half
2. Defending Your Life - nerd full of fears and too many words gets the smart girl.
3. Can't Buy Me Love - i love me a nerd gets the girl tale. this is classic
4. Pretty Woman - honestly, it's a heckuva trashy movie that I can watch again and again.
5. LOTR trilogy - especially Two Towers, come on, its Helm's Deep!!!!
6. Before Sunrise/ Before Sunset - killer chemistry. realistic characters.
7. 2046 - did not love the show as much as i loved the train of thought it was able to spark off. would never watch it again.

all the people i could tag have been tagged....although if you are reading, SkinUp, HKGirl..I would love to see your list!:)

The Meme of Four

4 jobs you have had in your life (discounting current job)
1: Waitress
2: Burger Flipper
3: Editor
4: Designer / Illustrator

4 movies you have willingly watched more than once
1: Defending Your Life
2: The Breakfast Club
3: Can't Buy Me Love
4: Dirty Dancing

4 interesting places you have slept in:
1: 6 months in a Spanish inspired appartment in Westwood, California
2: 3 years on a mattress under my studio table in the School of Architecture, Singapore
3: 1 sleepless night at the hostel Carlito's Way, Rome
4: 1 prayerful night on a roughspun bunk in a Monastery of Silence, France

4 T.V. heroes you loved as a kid
1: Bob, the pianist on Sesame Street
2: Jem, the pink haired superstar (truly truly outrageous!)
3: Tony Hart, the artist on TV whose pet was Morph, the plasticine man
4: the guys on the Curiosity Show

The Return of a Friend

me
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

Yesterday, though I least expected it - God healed me from a old but nagging wound in the heart. The healing of this 4 year old ache did not take more than a simple minute, over a cheap $3.50 lunch, with a simple sentence - that is the power and profundity of God. That is His mysterious, strange timing.

I have mourned the loss of a very good friend for 4 years - though I tried hard to forgive, to be the better person, to be godly, to be wise, to be strong, to move on and seemed to succeed, I remained incredibly pained by it. I could not understand how our friendship could have meant nothing after all we had been through. Though we still kept in amiable contact, spotted with a few meaningful conversations here and there, BestFriend was only 20% present. BF always felt really faraway, like a curtain had been drawn between us forever.

I resented the distance. I knew what was the right thing to do - Love God, Love my Neighbour with superhuman intensity beyond understanding - but it still caused me heartache to have to do it. By God's gracious ministry, I was not embittered by the pain. But I often ached at the thought of how long it was going to remain in me with all my other questions. Why did I have to keep being the one who reached out? Why should I care in a friendship where I was not sure I was being cared for right back?

"I have always noticed when you were sad and lonely. I am sorry for not being there when you needed me most." Some old hurt just slipped out of me, as if it was nothing more than a thin scarf to be pulled off in a tug. Can a sincere apology have that much power?

"You know what - you are still my best friend." I needed those words more than I knew. A small weight vanished from within , as if it had been nothing more than smoke.

Sitting there and staring at my old best friend talk to me with 100% presence back in full force, I was literally shell-shocked. I had gotten so used to operating at the level BF had set in those 4 years. Suddenly, our friendship was back in full force - the familiarity, the ease, the back and forth, the level of giving, the unsaid assurance of full trust in Christ under everything we said. It was a miracle from heaven. I never knew how little I expected this day to happen until it did.

"I can't believe it. It feels....like a new chapter. Almost like the end of ... a saga."

"I know."
_______________________________

At night, I started thinking of how strangely grateful I am that God allowed me to feel such depths of pain and sadness in the past 4 years. In allowing me to become brutally honest with my heart's suffering, I have grown year by year in my dependence on His wisdom and hence in my ability to empathise, in my desire to reach out, in my boldness to break out of fear that comes from Loving people His way.

Without understanding pain, I would never have understood joy. WIthout tasting turmoil and unrest, I would have never loved peace. Without teaching me loss, I would have never longed so hard to find.

Though the past 4 years had not changed my circumstances in any tangible sense, I knew in the intangible realm, I was soaring. I was growing. Every year was a year of genuine gratefulness, deeper joy, stranger peace - even though pain was always muted but present.

"Though i walk through valleys low, I will fear no evil.
By the waters, still my soul, my heart will trust in you."

'My Heart WIll Trust' from some old HIllsongs album was one of the songs that brought me through the worst of the 4 melancholy years. I love it because it recalls my favourite Psalm 23 - The Lord is my Shepherd.

The words of that Psalm may have been cross-stitched, wood-burnt, curliculed to death by a million ridiculous, cheesy Christian paraphenalia makers but nothing can dim the Truth of its message - in a fallen world, a valley of where the shadow of death looms over every little thing that we do, somehow He will help us find those quiet waters, those green pastures.

Even better, even subtler - By telling us He will comfort us with the rod of justice and the staff of love, He shows us He knows we are in mourning. The Lord does not deny we are in pain. He assures us that it is okay to feel sad, it is okay to mourn and feel hurt. We do not need to pretend it is easy to be godly or that we need to pretend to be happy all the time to be an example of mature Christianity.

In His timing, He will bring healing and peace into our fractured lives: first in profound but intrinsically incomplete forms on earth; later, more importantly in full completion as HIs Kingdom comes.
For a far better exposition on this, read Dr Larry Cobb's brilliant Inside Out. I think anyone who is looking for a honest breakthrough in their Christian maturity should give it a go - it deals very wisely with the truth of how foolish, thirsty Christians can come to grips with their long search for healing, and for inner and outer integrity. If you ever wanted to know how your ungodly ways can be changed through God, and are tired of easy answers from over-smiley christian writers who tire you out with their naivete, or sick of smarmy Pharisees who think change happens when youjust run the gamut of a million rules of Christian Living, this is a great, great Godly book. The packaging of the book may make you scream "Christian Psychobabble Self-Help!!!!! Ewwwww" but trust me, the book is worth getting over your prejudices.

Meanwhile.....Hallelujah and praise the God of the Impossible.

I have found my BestFriend again. : )

It's not a miracle on the Richter scale of the parting of the Red Sea, but it sure feels like a miracle to me.

I'm The Girl

neonangel2
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

Inspired by the funky on-going Tomorrow meme as seen in this link - Who We Are
__________________________

I'm the girl who loved how your familiar brown van coasted through the neighbourhood every night; who watched you uncover your magical tin trays, and bought slices of coarse, crumbly fruit cake and pink-green layered bread with cheap buttercream from your weathered hands.

I'm the girl whose first loves were Bob the kind piano man on Sesame Street, Bruce Sato from M.A.S.K and Remington Steele; the girl who hates snakes so much that the only unread volume of her Encyclopedia Britannica series is volume "S".

I'm the girl who you had water hose battles with while sitting in tin wash-tubs; the one who fought alongside with you in red ant-killing missions at the mango tree; the one who allowed you to barbecue her Strawberry Shortcake toys because "pagan sacrifice" sounded like a fun new sand pit game; the one who carefully helped you dig tunnels and caves in your ice-kachang; the one who you grilled hamburgers for; the one who you once piledrived, body slammed and broke her glasses; the one who you happily converted to nerdy boy hobbies for life.

I'm the girl who once thought the height of cool was writing "Cool!" in gold glitter across a neon pink t-shirt and walking out in it with matching neon pink socks.

I'm the girl who was once convinced she could talk Saddam out of the first Gulf War because she felt maybe he never had a real friend.

I'm the girl you once donated $50 to "for your nice smile" when she was a 15 year old stranger sticking a charity tin can in your face; the girl who at 28 still thinks of your tiny act of kindness every time someone says Singaporeans are all selfish.

I'm the girl who hid in the shower because she was so convinced that she managed to crush the car with you in it by pressing the door remote control too fast; the girl who you carried to bed every night when she fell asleep watching tv; the girl who never forgot how you dashed to Popular Bookstore for supplies and stayed up to cut little styrofoam continents to form a stupid styrofoam world map just so she could hand up her "holiday homework"; the girl who you reminded daily, "It doesn't matter if you want to be a roadsweeper, just be the best roadsweeper."; the girl who you once walloped with hard slippers and 10 cent "tian tiao" canes; the girl who you called when your own mother died, to ask her to pray even though you did not believe in her God.

I'm the girl who played Debbie GIbson while you were Kylie Minogue; who was Great Exploress Lady Serena Tenzing while you were Great Exploress Lady Erica Hillary; who wrote imaginary magazine editorials so that we could be celebrity explorer/pop stars instead of dorky convent school girls; the girl who recorded our great non-hit wonder "The Mystery of the Growing Pizza" in your room; the girl who never lets you forget you once thought Macbeth was a hamburger.

I'm the girl who you played Barbie Dolls meet Sweet Valley HIgh with; the one who you mugged PSLE with in between practicing Richard Clayderman pieces ; the one who ate Yami Yogurt at Parkway Parade with; the one who shielded you from your domineering, plastic-hammer wielding mother and crazy-ass principal; the one who you once convinced so well that everybody hated her so she would pathetically consider jumping off the second floor to escape teenage hell; the one who you have always confused with your schizo ways.

I'm the girl who you called "just like King RIchard - all words and no substance" when she handed up a pedantic literature essay; the same girl who drew you a picture of your favourite Thomas Hardy heroine because you apologised for being a crotchety old teacher.

I'm the girl who thought the End was truly near when the Twin Towers collapsed; the girl who found meaning watching you light a candle after candle, despite your advanced age and chinese-ness, at the National Stadium in honour of the dead.

I'm the girl whom you stopped to ask the time at Capitol Building and proceeded to dazzle for one Before Sunset-like hour with your Hollywood looks and a non-stop conversation about local politics and society's idiosyncrasies in front of Breadtalk; the girl who you took out at midnight to look at a bridge your uncle built to talk for hours about charity, architecture and Robert Frost poetry; the girl you danced too closely to; the girl who you bought flowers for, on her last night in California and never said a word to about what you felt until it was too late and too darn wierd; the girl who you conned into filling up her details on a comic shop membership card so you could call her up and creep her out by telling her you stood right behind her at a newspaper stand in Kallang but did not want to say hi; I'm the girl who you did not choose. I'm the girl who you did choose but did not choose you back.

I'm the girl who once wanted to go out and deliberately make One Great Mistake because she was convinced that mistakes were the only way to learn about life; the girl who is relieved that she never ever succeeded at that mission.

I'm the girl who raises empty hands to You in praise to remember that is all she has to bring to Your Throne; the girl who imagines You graciously placing Your hands right back in those empty palms in a clasp of assurance; the girl who will not forget how deeply You have rewritten the script of her life.

I'm that girl. Who are you?

Living On A Prayer

I finished work at 11pm tonight. I kind of like working late at my office - when nobody is around on my floor, I gamely leave the glass door open and play my CDs loud as I please. As I cleared up papers here and there and prepared to lock up and leave, I found myself looking out again towards the new National Library, which was also in the process of closing up for the night. My office is directly opposite the LIbrary - I get a pretty good view of the people walking around the upper floors.

I feel some kind of kinship with the new library. 3 years ago, when we first moved School of Thought into this building, the library was nothing but a gigantic brown construction site, all boarded up and enclosed. From the street level, you could not tell the mess that was going on inside. From my sixth floor perch, I could see everything within. As I slowly found my feet building the school, I found myself spending many a late night alone, looking out at the construction site.

For months, it seemed like nothing was happening. Nothing obvious at least. In architecture, you learn that the foundational work takes the longest. It takes months to analyse the soil condition, test the loading it can take, decide on the best piling system to use. For months, while I worked, so did a whole army of construction workers, industriously digging away, sinking pile after pile in what seemed like unending labour.

There was some kind of comfort in staring over all that foundational work. I felt the parallel in my own life: I was building a school, making sure all the foundations were right, trying not to do anything wrong, fretting about making mistakes, wondering about it's place in my walk with God.

Lying beyond the library site is an old church. There were many nights where I would stand at the window, staring at the cross on its steeple and feeling somehow comforted that it was there - watching over the construction work, watching over me, watching over my school. I would press my hand to the glass and pray out of sheer need. I gave the school and myself over to Him. I prayed for guidance, for comfort, for confidence. I would thank God for keeping the school going despite my lack of experience, despite my lack of anal managerial skill or razor-sharp business acumen. I would pray for fear to go away. I would pray and pray for a sign to show me what this was all about. I would tell God to take everything and shape it into whatever form He wanted for I truly felt lost so many times. I only knew how to deal with things day by day, with nothing more than hope in His wisdom. I wanted so many times to be lazy, to be half-hearted, to be irreponsible.

So tonight, as I looked out at the library in its pristine, whiteness, glowing peacefully in the night. I thought of how far it had come from its muddy beginnings - without structure, without foundation, without any thing that might hint at its beautiful future except for a bunch of blueprints conceived by some architect. Faithfully, construction workers trusted in that blueprint, trusted in that architect and just built their hearts out. Somehow the small work that was done each day added up.

I remember once the foundations were laid, the superstructure of the Library went up so fast I was astonished. I remember coming to work one day and being really shocked to see the first few columns soaring triumphantly from the ground. From there, the next few months was BAMBAMBAMBAM - column, floor, panelling, cladding. The speed was amazing. The heights the building reached was astonishing. For months, I could not grasp the scale of the building that was evolving before me with such blase ease.

When I look at the library, I see a metaphor of my work in the school. It comforts me.
I trust someday I will see the true form it will take on, far from its muddy beginnings, far from the capabilities of the singular construction worker.

Thank you God for being my visionary. I owe you too much to conceive.

Neonangel: Girl Genius

Reading a line from some random blog about "This is your life - are you where you should be?"
made me recall some seriously off-tangent careers I have contemplated half-seriously somewhere in my short life. Delusion can be a powerful thing.

TOP 3 WOEBEGONE CAREERS THE WORLD IS GLAD I NEVER TOOK UP:

1. Fashion Designer
At the height of primary school, I was the creme de la creme of the paper doll making world. I actually bought a USBOURNE book about entering the fashion industry. At Pri 5, I designed a hideous pink dress with oh so hip cut-out shoulders inspired by Psylocke's costume from the X-Men. Entered it in a competition that obviously nobody else participated in. The monstrosity got sewn and I made my friend wear it and model it. I am evil. It was that ugly. I also attempted a few *koff* cutting-edge looks in my teenage years - day-glo socks, cut-outs in my pants, scrawling "hip!" on my tee-shirt in glitter paint, peace signs, and worse - wore headbands for 2 years straight like I was a hippie, oh horrors horror upon horrors. I have an awful photo somewhere of me attempting to copy Debbie GIbson's look circa Electric Youth. You would think the mirror would have been nice and just broke the news to me that I was not looking remotely cool. :)

2. Broadway singer / musical playwright genius
early Secondary school - I contemplated being not just any Broadway singer...I wanted to play Jean Valjean. Yup you got that right. Who cares if I was female, chinese and not that great a singer to boot. I had a grand time memorising all his lines. Don't even ask about the CRAP musicals I supposedly wrote. They were basically ripoffs from stuff I heard but padded with new CRAP lyrics and some pretty lousy plots. Oh yes, every musical I "wrote" involved war, unrequited love and many people dying dramatically on stage. I have an inner drama queen. She is evil.

3. Superhero Comic creator
I proudly co-created an X-men offshoot called "Class X" together with a fellow nerd in RGS. We were so darn proud of our creation we actually showed it to our vice principal. "Class X" shockingly made it to 3 issues - and it was so cutting-edge that it had every conceivable stereotype and archetype in them. I lost the first 2 issues and today, evidence of Class X's existence lies buried under my bed in the form of "Issue 3 - Attack On the Mansion!"
There is a reaaaaaalllllllllly brilliant sequence in there of a hacker who manages to encrypt so much information that the computer blows apart a room. Wow. Talk about logic.

"Class X" was thinly disguised teenage fantasy - the heroines of the team were of course alter-egos of me and my friend. It was an excuse to invent cute alter-ego boyfriends. If this was Nerds Anonymous, I would confess my codename was Spitfire, I had the funky power to manipulate molecular structures and I had the coolest boyfriend ever. He was Gamer - the team leader who managed to trick aforementioned hacker into blowing apart the room. My friend only dated the team strong man, some Greek hunk. I picked personality and brains over money and brawn even back then okay. Don't play play.

Sigh. I am such a nerd.
Cut me and I bleed pure, unadulterated nerd.

See it's a very good thing that i ended up a teacher. The world is safe from day-glo cut-out fashion collections.

milestones

Walking in Christ starts you on a crazy journey of change. Major milestones in my little walk with Christ include:

- the first time I realised I was selfish and self-centred
-the first time I realised Love (in the agape sense) was difficult.
- the first time I took leadership and Christian service seriously
- the first time I understood "The Gospel is Alive"
- the first time I had someone tell me my worth in Christ
- the first time I had someone tell me thank you for sharing Christ with them

so last weekend marked a major turning point in my Christian walk.
It has been one coming for a very long time.

the first time i prayed together with my mom.

and if you know me and my mom, that is really really a big big thing.

Funny thing was that just earlier in that week when I was talking to J. about how tough it was to be a godly Chinese daughter, she challenged me to pray with my mom. My first reaction was simply horror. Horror at how good and simple and sensible J's suggestion was. Horror at knowing now that I heard it I had to do it. I told J plainly, "It's a good idea. But frankly it freaks me out. I don't want to do it." J. prayed for opportunity and for God to help me. I did not give it much serious thought after that.

But things work out in mysterious ways and somehow, in the most weirdly natural of ways, driven by events I did not prepare for, J's prayer worked.

For the full lurid story in all its full blown drama-mama, look for me, the horse's mouth.

Suffice to say, God really amazes me. When they say He transforms and changes you, they were not kidding. It sure darn well was not Me that was doing the praying and talking with my mom on Sunday. It was defintely the Holy Spirit doing His thing. No other explanation for that.

Floored man, abso-freakin-lutely floored.

Kickarse Kitty and memories of paperdolls

kickarsekitty
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

aiyoh so cute. Dress up your own Hello Kitty! reminds me of the good old days of paper dolls with the little fold over straps.

I did not have enough lunch money to buy those expensive things so I ended up making my own paper dolls...with their own line of haute coture. don't play play. I learnt the name Oscar de la Renta from staring at Barbie doll outfits at Toys R'Us. For the longest time, Oscar's name was the one I associated with high fashion and good taste.

But then again I was primary school and I thought Crystal Barbie and Pink suited Office Barbie were the height of cool.

By Primary 6, I discovered pop and rock. My Barbie dolls had their tresses unceremoniously cut into savage bobs (inspired by Zoe Tay circa her infamous role as Bobo and too many Saturday morning doses of Jem who is still Truly Truly Outrageous). I dyed their hair brilliant punk shades of green and blue with my poster paints

Wonder where my old paper dolls went? would be fun to make them again for a new generation.

man, childhood fun with paper and imagination.

it makes me wanna blog about the pencil paper games me and bro used to play. they were a whole lot more violent and fun than paper dolls for sure. :) i blame him entirely for my fixation on RPG.

sober sunday

Pastor Chris' sermon was really powerful today - he testified about how God was working constantly behind the scenes, moving things and people in place for his plans. It was very moving when he talked about how his mother prayed for him recently to bring the gospel well to the English. This was the same woman whom he had prayed for 25 years to come to know God - and she did in a powerful wonderful way.

This small but poignant reminder of God's providence really moved me. I felt reenergised for the week ahead to do whatever God called me to do...knowing full well that the success of whatever that it was, already was held tightly in His hands.

This was kind of challenged just a few minutes ago.

My sister called me from Barcelona to tell me she and her friends had just been robbed at knife-point. The two robbers were apparently very violent and when bystanders tried to help, they got punched and robbed by fellow syndicaters in the vicinity,

My sister was throughly shaken and I felt it too. She was bawling about how she just wanted to come home to Singapore and how much she missed me. For the first time, we both ended the phone conversation telling each other "I love you, I will see you soon". I wished I could be there for her and her friends. I wanted to look after them and be a friendly face in a foreign land to them. Thank God, they were safe. Thank God, she will be making a stop in New York to stay with my brother and his wife. At least there is a second home some where in the world for her to rest before she comes back Singapore.

Hearing how violent the guys were, it really hit home how I could have lost her. It made me think how I try to escape from the fact that I could lose anyone of my family and friends at any time. And yet knowing that reality, I do not take seriously the need to pray for them - their salvation, their saftey, their health. Though I profess diffferently, this instance showed me that I still live, thinking and hoping troubles will coast me by. I don't take my family seriously enough. I have to start living with the fact that I must pray for them and must remember anytime, without warning I might lose them and whatever chance I have to love them, care for them and speak of God's Truth to them.

sigh. All this heavy stuff and I still have not done my taxes yet. God help me! :(

Claim to Fame ST-4apr05

ST-4apr05
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

was in the Straits Times on 4 April concerning the whole "let's change National Education" hoo ha I am in.

my one claim to fame and the reporter spells my name wrong. :)
Kiuk? Now I am Hawaiian?
this is how God keeps people humble. :P

that's my good looker of a ex-student PseudoElf behind me btw. i had dragged him into class to be my designated "Pro Art Representative" for the day in our class discussion about "Art and Obscenity",

His mother went into paroxysms of delight upon seeing her son in the papers - cut it out and is going to laminate it to preserve forever. His brother paraded the photo to all the girls at his office.

Needless to say, me and PseudoElf were much amused.

Boxing Day strangeness

spent whole day grocery shopping, stoning and finally preparing for dinner tonight with arpc friends. Was throughly fun theme night of "wear nice dinner wear and please wear a hat". Loved the photos TolkeinFanGirl took.. especially those of us posing with her stylin' reindeer hairband. Even cooler part of the night was getting to spend some time catching up over exciting news with TuxedoDiplomat and Dalmaetian.

Strange thing was that after everyone had long left, while cleaning up I finally hear the breaking news about the tsunamis that hit SouthEast Asia at 7am this Boxing Day morning. It has not really hit me yet the extreme devastation that has swept the coasts of Thailand, India, Malaysia, Indoneisia and the poor, poor Maldives.

It was terribly odd: at least 5800 people dead and all I could fathom was the plates in front of me, soapy and crusted with leftovers that needed washing. Am typing this post washing and tupperwaring leftovers, and it still has not really hit me.

man. it must be because i am tired. bet it will hit me tomorrow when i open the papers. Geez, 1000s of lives just wiped away like that.

current music: CNN in the background with its constant chant of "the death toll is rising"
current mood: odd.
a wierd mix of satisfaction from a nice party and curiously detached horror at the catastrophe that was happening. Whole villages swept away as we chopped vegetables, chatted, laughed and took silly pictures? unreal.... :_(

Memory Lane: My dad and the $3000 encyclopedias

meandkor
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

Last night while my dad drove me back from christmas eve grocery shopping, I asked him if he thought of giving away all our encyclopedias as they were getting old and nobody read them any more.

At home, I have the classic big 4 sets of Encyclopedia Britannicas - the baby one, the one for teenagers, the red bound one for older youths and finally the mighty big brown ones for serious adult researchers. They are all musty now and the silverfish have been industriously tunneling around in the spines.

My father declares, "Give them away? Do you know how much I had to slog and save to buy them for you guys?" He recounted that he bought those encyclopedias in the 1970s and back then, they cost $3000.

He goes on to contextualise it by saying back then he paid $6300 for a new car and $6900 for a new flat.

It floored me - those books on our shelves cost a freaking half a car? half a flat?

What floored me more - that somehow my father had been farsighted and sacrificial enough to think : my children need more than transport and a roof over their head. My children need knowledge and wisdom from others.

It was really sweet to have found that out by chance actually. Its wierd how we find out all these little things about how our parents thought.

His investment paid off. Me and my brother developed a voracious appetite for books of all kinds. Books have been a part of our childhood as much as Electric Company , 3-2-1 Contact, Abba and Lode Runner.

Me, my korkor and later my sister grew up with a healthy respect for learning and an active, creative imagination.

I love this photo. It looks like a natural promotional poster for some reading campaign. :)

Check out cool 80s cultural references in picture: I am reading the seminal Usbourne How to be a Spy Handbook. My brother is reading Hardy Boys... he loved the 3 Investigators series so much he called himself Peter Crenshaw.

And coolest of all: he is wearing his very own hand drawn Storm-Trooper pajamas. :)

conversation with an old friend

It's 2am and am still clearing design deadlines late cos i (mis)spent my whole day doing last minute christmas shopping and catching up with old friend, StainBoy.

Like the previous post, this was yet another December serendipity type conversation - unplanned, nice and real. Work gets in the way of proper meeting up so getting a chance to catch up again like old times was really a pleasant little blessing.

Stainboy and I go waaaaay back to second year NUS. He has the dubious honour of being the person who brought me to church. Stainboy and I both happened to be sorting out our own individual rough patches in university and God seemed to use the new friendship to get us both through our valleys. Our friendship is marked by pretty good times of cool conversations, gaming sessions, really bad jokes and one minor falling out which thankfully never blew up into anything worse with God's amazing grace.

It was good to find God still doing His good work in Stainboy's life. I can honestly say it's nice to see how we have both grown up since university. We grew up not just because of age, life experience, work or the run of the mill factors. The changes in both of us happened principally because of God's power to mould strength out of weakness, life out of death and hope out of despair. It sounds bloody drama and MGSR (as Mothman will put it) but I am glad to say it's the plain truth.

Anyhow...Stainboy, WeudiWeu and BeanyCrunch collectively make up the first genuine, healthy friendships I had post-Secondary-School-Traumatic-Friendships. I always look back to these 3 friendships that fell in place like divinely-placed dominoes into my life exactly when I needed them. And all before I really knew who God was. Each marked a new season of growth and healing, well peppered with shared laughs and shared fears.

Am glad to say new friendships aside from the initial 3 have sprouted out in the walk towards Christ. This year has brought forth many a genuine moment of friendship...I must remember them in my christmas cards his year. I can feel that 2005 will be amazing already--- simply because I know there will be new conversations, lessons and moments brought into my world through old and new relationships.

Here's to friends. God really knew what he was doing when he created them. :)

note to self: shall have to blog a list of 10 things to be thankful for in 2004 before i forget, come to think about it!
as WatermelonGal's song goes "Life is sweet...."


current song: Elvis Presley's seminal version of Can't Help Falling in Love
current mood: bit tired from shopping whole day but it was a Good day indeed.

ideas make the world go round

ideas amaze me.

a really good idea can sometimes be so simple and ingenious that they sneak into your heart and capture your imagination.

you can always tell what is a good idea when the more you talk about it, the more real and more exciting it gets, and somehow the fever spreads to others. YOu can see the light come up in peopl's eyes when they feel the same spark that you do for something. perhaps not the same intensity but they Get It.

a really cool idea has been building up in my mind in the past few weeks to revolutionise a part of the Singapore education system that has ramifications on the civic participation problem......have not yet been able to really draft out my thoughts into a proper proposal but the idea is getting more form and shape, the more views i hear and the more focus groups i attend.

dont know what else to say right now except i hope i actually put this down in pen before i lose focus. must...keep....fickle.....attention span...in ...check!


current mood: delirious and hoppity skippity as a rabbit. i am one happy bunny.
current music: imaginary happy tune with my own poor attempts at lyrics all the way from bus-stop to home. yep...on that isolated stretch of road i talked about in earlier post. :)

rainy streets and a solitary walk home

when i reached my bus-stop today at about 10pm, it was way too rainy to walk back home so i stayed in the shelter reading a Spidey graphic novel.

There is something strangely lonesome yet...nice... just sitting in a bus-stop, reading a good book and waiting for a downpour to calm down into a mild drizzle. the stretch of road between the bus-stop and my appartment is always thankfully semi empty by the time i get home at night. Which means, nobody can hear me sing silly songs.

you know, i dont think i have ever walked that stretch of road with another person.
some how, i have always walked that stretch alone. (muse muse...this better not be a bizarro metaphor of my life! wah lau. )

I love the look of a wet street at night. It sparkles like a granite universe
...a whole sheet of silvery shiny bits, reflecting the street lamplights.
its sights like that that remind me how much of an urban rat i am.

i love me my cities.

Current Mood: touched
Current Music: the drizzle of what chinese call "mau mau yu"