What's in a name?

We Chinese, can be such an imaginative lot when it comes to names.

Some aliases that couples chose for each other is sooo lovingly-sweet, I swear you can get diabetes after hearing them 3 times. Some are so oblivious to their surrounding people, you cringe uncomfortably at their unbashful choices of intimate references everytime. I have heard 'Dardar', 'DearDear', 'BeeBee','Baybee', 'Lingling' (short for darling I presume). Yawnnnn. I know you want her to be different and special. THEN be DIFFERENT AND SPECIAL. The last time I checked, the above-mentioned are approximately used by 89724567 couples already. Be ingenious! One creative fren I know call his woman 'twa liap', which loosely means 'big' in Hokkien (No points for guessing the source of his inspiration...) Very ingenious indeed!

During my school days, if you happen to have a christian name, the popular ones are Michael, Kelvin, Adrian, Andy and Grace, Sharon or Vivian for the gals. Some call themselves after their b'day months like Jan, April, May or named themselves after their fav idols like Sammi, Alan or Aaron. Along the way, some decided to go European and used Federick, Nicholas, Anthony or Christina, just to list a few. Things got more interesting in the late 80s and early 90s with the boom of commercialism and the sudden influx of international brands flooding Singapore. We not only have designers' goods, we started having frens with designers' names too like Coco, Rykiel, Chantel, Cromer, Gaultier and Oliver. One of my peers really topped it all when he decided to call himself Versace. The only problem was he wore no Versaces, and he can't even pronounce the name correctly (He called himself 'Ver-Sa-Chee'). The dead style guru would have been immensely proud of his influence.

Things got even more complicated when the 90s kids came around. Apparently, their parents couldn't decide on the best names for them and ended up merging 2 names into one or chose longer, dinstinctive names to give their children a headstart in life. Names like Amberlina, Angelina, Francesco, Augustine, Isabellina are seriously testing their teachers' mental resolve and tongues. The longest I have heard is John-Francis Mitchell Donnaway, an Eurasian kid I met in tuition class. I heard the poor boy turned gay.

But nothing beats the 90s. This is the beginning of a new dawn for mankind with mobile fones and internet and humans have never been as liberated. I have met Butter, Moon, Pokka, Lizzie, Dixie, Killiney, Azelia, Bennison, Roop, Estrealla, Cantelline, Cordelia (sound like some herpes)...as long as you can imagine it, there muz be one somewhere! Some older folks decided to jump on the wagon and changed their names or adopt new ones to blend in. I have pals named Billion, Oscar, Astro, Mayo and Lithium...I am juz waiting for someone brave enough to try Comdom or Tampon.

For a while, I almost succumbed to 'peer pressure' and pondered deep on how to make my name sound unique. I tried imagining myself as Samsara, Sampoerna, Samurai and even Samsonite but decided that Sam will do juz as fine. End of the day, I think a name is really only JUST a name and what lies within, is more important than a namesake. If you are worth remembering, people will remember you. No point naming yourself Shakespeare, Caesar or Davinci when you behaves more like an uncivilised rascal.

Juz look at one of the most respected statesman, Hairy Lee.

Or is it Harry?

When it's time to go, you go.

2 years since last gym workout. 6 months since last run. 8 years since last dentist's visit. Never had a full body checkup.

And I tot I was immortal.

The body has been voicing out signs of disapproval about my less than desired lifestyle for awhile now. Flabby thighs, saggy biceps, pouchy waistline, decaying teeth, wrinkles and a headful of obvious whites... I dread to see what the an x-ray film can show on the inside and I cringe at the thought of a dying body. No, I am not dying yet (I am not really sure at this junction...) but at the rate I am going, I can't be too far off already (NOT with my indulgence in alcholic pleasures and chain-puffing).

I have been feeling some sort of cardiovasular discomfort this recent months. Sometimes the pain bites on so intensely, I tot my heart is ripping thru to get out. And I am starting to take notice. Subtle signs of numbness at the fingers, breathlessness and giddy spells dun exactly portray a healthy man.

Hypothetically-speaking, I am 'only' 32 and still 'too young' for any major medical concerns. I believe I am too young to die, too strong to be sick and too early to be concerned. And I also believe this thought itself, is the first big obstacle to changing my frivolous attitude towards physical health. No one likes to believe they can be gravely ill, requires medical treatment or attention. 'This cannot be happening to me, rite?

Wrong. Maybe it is already happening.

By the time, the pain or symptons are so unbearable and evident...we could be too late in salvaging the situation. I googled briefly on this pervasive 'it won't happen to me' belief in humans and read some very interesting articles. Some labeled this 'state of denial' or 'the ostrich mentality'. What we can't see or dunno, we ignore. Denial is a defense mechanism postulated by Sigmund Freud, in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence. What is even more damning, is when we purposeful challenge ourselves to further engage in the exact habits or activities to substantiate this perverse belief.

Like how I allow myself 3 sticks of ciggies while writing this post, in 20 mins.

In my act of defiance against peeps who are more critical of my unhealthy vices, I always rebutted them with 'But we all die someday' reply. Some retorted with 'But you dun have to make it faster'. A few added '...UNLESS YOU SERIOUSLY WANT TO...'

If I really want to, I would have use more conventional means which are really FASTER, u idiot. But thanks for the 'heads up' anyway! I will consciously watch myself and try to outlive my mum and you. And watch yourself too! I have heard when God decides to flicker off your flame, he can do it while you are crossing the road, swimming in the pool or even when you are eating.

I seriously suggest we all stay home and rot.

Lazy Bum

I have been told so many times by countless peeps that I am lazy, or offered this reason for my inabilities and shortcomings, that I also started believing I am one big, insipid, hell of a bum.

Not that they are wrong. I am INDEED lazy. But I think this word has been much abused and maligned.

When I did poorly in school, my mum said I was lazy.
When I refused to take public transport for work, I was told I am lazy.
When I stopped going to gym, my frens said I am lazy.
When I can't give my best effort, I am also lazy.

SO lazy can be loosely or conveniently associate with poor performances, nonchalence, no-shows, 'can't-be-bothered' mentality or 'couldn't-care-less' attitudes.

Dicitonary.com -
la·zy  –adjective


1.averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
2.causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.
3.slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.
 
*I can't score in science subjects becos they are not really my subjects of interests. So I switched off during lessons.
*I bypass public transport cos I hate being in close proximity with strangers with weird smells, waiting for inconsistent arrival timings of buses and trains and getting to work with crumpled shirt and sweaty armpits.
*I stopped spending 5 days week in a gym becoz I wanna get a life outside with buds and gals instead of spending time with gay boys (who can't wait to lay each other) and brawny hunks (whose brains are as big as their biceps. Maybe testicles.).
*I can't give my full effort when I can't be bothered with what you are doing, I dun believe in wat you are doing OR whatever I am doing, is not my area of expertise/interest. Or maybe I simply hate you.
 
Duh.
 
Being 'lazy' means...
1. I am selective about wat I wanna do.
2. Completing tasks in the shortest, best possible way.
3. Adverse to spending time with people who I can't really be bothered with.
4. Not willing to entertain or oblige doing things/peeps which I am not interested in.
5. Shortlisting and narrowing down the things/people which/whom I can contribute to wholeheartedly.
 
Being lazy doesn't mean I wanna drop dead this instant and do nothing. Being lazy doesn't mean I stop bathing, trimming my armpits, pubic areas. Being lazy doesn't mean I am a good for nothing or a born loser. Being lazy doesn't mean you can trample all over me. Being lazy doesn't mean I will hesitate to punch you.
 
One of my new found drinking kaki, Mr Terence F. have the best quote for laziness I have heard so far.
 
'Laziness is the MOther of all efficiencies.'
 
I love this man. (And he claimed to be very well-trimmed below to affirm his belief.) See? Lazy people like us hates repetitions or prolongations. We do it one time, everytime. And either we dun do it, or we do our best. It really takes one to know another.
 
I can't wait to witness his belief. Heh.  

Jazz-ed me up.

I forgot when is the last time I actually open up my itunes and listen to my collection of songs.

I am a big-time music fanatic. Anything to do with music, count me in. My ears prick up at the slightest sound of melodic indications and my body sways automatically to any beautiful beats. Funny how this love deserted me for the past few months. THanks to R, whom I re-found again recently and her very thoughtful and sweet gift of a jazz-themed album.

Blasting those songs in my cosy bedroom now makes me dreamy and in the mood for love. To get drunk. To sing on the stage. Or to sing incoherently after 2 dozens of beers to the one I love. Okay, I am DREAMY...so pardon my nonsensical banterings. I think wat I really wanna say is, Music is wonderful! With eyes closed, I am always transported back to my stage, where I perform to loved and close ones, singing and tinkering again. Mmmmm. Sweet. (I think I stopped and dreamt for a good 10 mins here)

Thank you very much R, now I wanna go out and get drunk :) It's a beautiful thursday and tomolo is public holidaeee! I will be doing myself a great injustice if I juz stay home and keep dreaming, esp after getting so jazz-ed up!

Lalalala. Beers. Ciggies. Finger-licking good chicken wings. Manz, tat's Life!

Pay peanuts, get monkeys.

I spent whole day trying to understand the decision behind my promotion and pay increment.

I finally received the offical document comfirming the new appointment after months of speculation. I am thankful that my efforts are being rewarded and was given an opportunity in a higher capacity to grow and learn. In fact, I should be overwhelmed...as I was given a better role than what I initiatly thought of. The promotion was doubled, but yet the pay was not. Of cos I understand that the raise has to be reasonable and inline with market norm, but I am perplexed by the company's justification of renumeration for my new duties.

Is it due to my lack of appropriate credentials? Is that how much I am worth in their eyes? Or is it another opportunistic corporate manoeuvre to wring the most out of an employee with the least possible payout?

I love the job. So much so that I rejected advances from rival companies a few times. If it was about servicing the one offering the best perks, I would have left long ago. Factors like having a great team and boss also greatly contributed to my decision to stay on. But let's be realistic, no one works for free...and all that I am asking is to be valued fairly and competitively. I joined since the boutique's induction from day one and is one of the three remaining from the pioneer batch. Even though new colleagues came onboard and fetch better salaries, I did not make any fuss. In good faith, I believe they must have more to offer. Someone told me that if what is offered is good enough for you, then it's a good enough reason and I totally agree with that.

Since I was chosen to lead the team, I muz be doing things right and some of my qualites must be being recognized. But why such nominal increment for a much bigger role is really beyond me. If I am still effectively paid in the range of a sales executive, am I being encouraged to perform my new role with similar output? I believe more things are expected from me with the promotion and I will have more responsibilities to sustain, but if expectations are not met from both sides...how do we get a deal going?

You dun find monkeys to fly planes, run companies or lead governments. Try offering a pilot a road sweeper's pay and it's likely he ends up sweeping the cockpit. I only ask to be assessed and rewarded fairly, nothing more, nothing less. If they decides that by paying peanuts will motivate me to perform my impending tasks diligently and faithfully, I seriously dun mind putting up one monkey show or two to reaffrim their judgements. Duh.

And there's much to learn.

There's certain attributes that each of us possesses that make us feel elevated or superior when compared to others. Esp those that we know we have a flair for or have an edge over the rest.

Like..e.g.

1. Being eloquent, articulated and able to write well. And gets away with uttering bullshit.
2. Having a natural genetic setup which gives you a higher than average physical fitness to rival a humping rabbit.
3. Having a face that makes makes women turn heads and guys wanna punch you.
4. Having a mental capacity of 200 TB and remembering every gal you scored or every guy who wanna /has already punched you.
5. Being tall/well-built/muscular like a pin-up poster boy. In every gay men's rooms.
6. Able to consume any forms of alcohol products by the gallons and be very comfortable in the company of camels.
7. Having a dream job/car/house/family background/education/girlfriend/ which makes every other woman drools and EVERY guy wanna punch you. TWICE.
8. Having cross-talents in multiple fields and believing you are Davinci-reincarnated.
9. Having an exceptional level of IQ or EQ.

Luckily God is fair, change is constant and human are ever-evolving.

In Chinese saying, 'There's always one mountain higher than the other', we can never be further than this observation. Fools you are, if you believe you will always be better than everyone. We might be, at a certain point of time, have an edge. But it's can only be tat sustained, isn't it? Even if we consistenly upgrade our know-hows, there's no guarantee someone better will not emerge from time to time. Competitions allow progessions, and comparisons are only indicative. You are only the best NOW, not forever! And in the larger pool of players on the bigger stage, you might juz drowned.

My point is, appreciate that  leverage you got but stop your self-induced satisfaction and acting all smirky! Everyone remembers the champion. But no one loves a cocky one.

One bud said the hardest thing to train in the gym, is the ego. Another said humility is becoming an ancient legend. My mum told me filial piety can only be read in books, not seen.

And I think Life, is more than being an obnoxious, superduper asshole.

Prenominal option.

I woke up at 12:27 a.m., hungry, groggy and moody. 2 slices of bread, a coffee and a clearer head later, I sat before my workdesk, wondering if the world juz ended.

No one really cares, isn't it? Where the hell is everybody?

I realised one sad but sobering truth. No one really care or bother about you, less your family, cos they dun have a choice not to anyway. Buddies? They are either so much in love with someone else, angry with you or so preoccupied with their lifes, you juz dun fit into their curriculums this moment. Frens? You are juz one of their many, and they are having other frens to pass time now. Anyone at all? The truth is no. Why should they bother about you, when they are not being bothered?

This is Life.

I see their updates on FB...doing stuffs, going places, having fun. Their world didn't stop, mine did. I am not ostracized by them, but by circumstances. Either you join them, or you be on your own. No one owns anyone anything. They are not selfish, you are juz not their priority. Only people stuck in close proximity, lke my poor mum, have no choice but to ask, 'Are you hungry, son?'. I recalled I was living alone before...and I did feel I was the the last man on earth then. And the same feeling of dread and lonelinesss is back.          

I am upset. With who or wat in particular, I am not sure. I can be in a better situation than now, but I am not. I dun think we can plan and pan out Life exactly the way we want it. Some parts of it juz come to you, like it or not...and we juz fucking live with it. Everyone knows what they want, but not everyone can get it.

This is Life. And this is MY life. 
                                                                    

Bored.

I am having a bad cough, painful sore throat and flaring skin condition. All because I have too much time at disposal.

My boss told me the new boutique might not be ready till mid June...SO even though I am still drawing a pay to stay home, the boredom is killing me. Other than the very few designated days where I have to report back to head office or run some company errands, there is no work to be done. And since I have to be prudent with my 'temp-paycut' salary, I am freaking stuck at home.

I eat, I shit, I bathe, I sleep, I watch movies, I play games, I play piano and smoke, smoke, smoke.

I am a lazy bum and have always dream of having more off days to slack at home, but I am kinda regretting it now.  If there's stuffs to keep you occupied, it's still fine...but to put my daily life on repetitive loop for few days in a row?? Shit NO! And to refrain myself from excessive alcohol comsumption or wastage of good dough, I am constantly, consciously reminding myself to keep my feet at home. Basically, I am holed up in my little, cosy room all day..with no indication of day or night (my curtains are always drawn..) and screwing up my bio clock. Yesterday I played my playstation from the previous night 10 pm to the following day noon till 2 pm, which is like..16 hours straight?! I stopped onli becos of the bloody sore thumb, from pressing too long on the controller. I woke up last night at 9 pm and still awake till now. ANd bored.

I dunno if I am also a pretty BORING person, but there's really, onli so much things you can be doing on your own. Even my mum have a more purposeful daily routine. Sigh. Another issue with having so much time on hand is that my mind tends to slant towards negativity thoughts, messes up my temperament and makes me moody. I definitely have a depressive disorder tendency hidden within and I dun wanna incline towards there by thinking out loud and questioning myself about Life. I juz survived one bad depression and there's no hurry to plunge back into another yet.

It's contradicting lah.

As much as I am enjoying moments of blogging, shitting, sleeping and practising the piano, I REALLY DUN NEED THE ENTIRE DAY!! God. Maybe you can appear in my bedroom to chat with me.

Sam is not on standby.

I hate to be kept waiting on the second line.
I hate having to play second-fiddle.
I hate being the lightbulb in a company of three (esp when the other 2 are a couple)
I hate being asked to a movie becos there's a spare ticket or your date stood you up.
I hate finding me to kill time cos your next appointment is X hours away.
I hate waiting for your comfirmation to meet becos you fucking dunno if you are doing something else.
I hate sharing my time with your multi-taskings when I am toking or chatting with you.
I hate remembering me only when you are in need of help/company/advice.
I hate being treated like a commodity and a contingency plan.
I hate being an extra, a back-up, a last-min resort.

You are not worthy of my time/attention/love/care/concern, if you can't spare me yours.

Fuck off and leave me alone.

Mummy's boy.

FOr my dear mum.

I have a topsy turvy relationship with my mum since young. She is not the most affectionate of mothers, and I am not the easiest of sons to handle. Having a no nonsense virgo guardian reining in a temperamental aries boy, there's bound to be sparks for nasty confrontations. We have our fights, we have our peace, but we have love for each other too and I am glad we are family.

Being her first kid, it must have very testing and experimental for my mum to raise me. There were no prior experiences to rely on, everything was hands-on and the learning curve was steep. Our parents try to teach us the way their parents teach them. Her dad (which I have never met), have been a significant figure in her learning years. From the little bits I gathered, granddaddy was a morally-conscious, sensibly-driven man. He was a strict and loving father, and he had brought up my mother well. Mum have such stauch standings on conduct, enthics and morality, I believe she was a tough magistrate in her previous life. But as 'vicious' as life can be, she have this little devil (me) as a son to test her resolve. How many times she actually comtemplate slaughtering me before...I dunno, but I think I have sober up enough to stop incurring her warth.

I see parts of my Dad and her in me, characteristically-speaking. Without dwelling too much on the old man, he is not exactly the best role model, though very much a loving dad too. Mum was the disciplinarian, Mum was the cane-wielder, Mum was the 'bad' parent at home. She corrected undesirable traits, enforced rules, taught respect, humility and grace, and demonstrated morally-upright attributes. She was Judge Dread. I can't remember the amount of spankings I got or her choices of tools to inflicit 'teachings' on me, but I swear the marks she left, had me looking like a zebra sometimes. I hated her so much then, I can't wait to remonstrate my displeasure. I think when I slapped her at 15, I must have broken her heart.

I was pretty much left alone, as I spiraled out of control. Those delinquent years, have the worse strains on our relationship. We stopped talking, she wanted me out of the house and I wanted her dead. Maybe Mum was fighting another war with Dad, as I fought mine on the streets...we grew apart and eventually saw lesser of each other. I wasn't very bothered then, she was 'only' a mother. I had my 'brothers', my fun, my life outside. I was running away from the storm brewing at home, perhaps she was too lost in the storm to care anymore. The family had broken, everyone was distant and we became strangers.

I realised my love for Mum when she committed suicide on one Chinese New Year's eve. The fact that I could have lose her that night jolted me out of my nonchalance towards the family. I am the eldest brother, I am the eldest son and I have to take responsibilty for my siblings and household. No more running away. Being there for my younger sister and youngest brother, I finally felt how it was like to be 'strong' in the midst of a family crisis, cos I was not. I cannot buckle, I cannot cry...just like how Mum never waiver in our presence. She must have had her reasons, her pain and unhappiness. I didn't understand before, I dun wanna understand after. I understood all that night. Mum is not all that tough, she is no Judge Dread. Mum is only trying her best to be a good mum.

Today, I have the good fortune to be living together with Mum again. Once in awhile, my siblings will come over for small gatherings too. Dad is fine and hopefully well where he is now. The tough times are over, and the kids are all older now. Having Mum by my side, I can always whine and behave like a spoilt brat. Funny how I hated having Mum hovering over me, yet crave for her loving and care as I aged. I think every man, no matter how unwilling to admit, loves to be pampered and loved by a woman. Until they find someone special as a partner, Mum will reprise this role over and over again, without a whimper. That's how all Mums are, I think.

I ate dinner with her yesterday on Mother's Day. Just a simple dinner, nothing fancy. She is happy and I am happy she is. For if I can be a good son to my Mum, everyday will be a happy day for her. As much as I am a mummy's boy, she is this boy's mummy too! I can never imagine saying this to her, you know..getting all mushy and lovey with my Mum. But yea...~shiver~

..I love you, Mum. Heh.

The distance between 2.

prox·im·i·ty 

–noun
nearness in place, time, order, occurrence, or relation.


CY invited me to his dance school's social night yesterday. Held every fortnightly, the event allows students and fella salsa/bachata/zouk lovers to mingle and practise/showcase their moves for a small fee. I was pretty ignorant about these dances, even more skeptical of the intentions of men who wanna practise them. But something muz be infective, proven by the increasing amount of participants over the last few years. Be it the sensual latin tempo, slick moves or short, tight skirts...I decided to check it out myself.

Housed in one of the shop houses along Keong Saik Road, the 3rd-level dance studio is small but spiffy. I was surprised by the healthy turnout, which escalated into a rather congestive pack as the night progressed. I see people of all races, shapes and sizes, taking turns, changing partners, dancing to ramdom latin/cuban/modern tunes. They were gyrating under dimly-lit lightings, twisting and thrusting their hips and bodies to every seductive beat, engrossed in their movements with their partners, oblivious to the bystanders observing. I eyed their every steps, mentally tracing them against the rhythmic beats and scrutinising their moves. Some were so physically close, I stared disapprovingly at their lack of inhibitions. Some are classmates...some are strangers. But how can such proximity be comfortable? It's like watching some foreplay rituals in public, each engaging their partners with tempting displays of seductive or suggestive manoeuvres. Some have hot moves, some have hotter bodies. It's like watching soft porn for me!

But everyone was smiling. Everyone looked like they were having a good time. Stuffy...wet...dripping sweat, they wouldn't mind. I see the actions, I feel the passions and I wondered about their 'cautions'.

Ramdom thoughts flashed as I watched pairs after pairs hit the dance floor. Is it the purely the love for such dances? Or it is becoz of the unabashed nature of these dances?...That one can be almost accessible to anyone and indulged themselves in phyiscal intimacies without a tinge of guilt? By allowing close proximity with someone...wouldn't one be exposing him/herself to the lure of attraction too easily? What is in their heads when you are embracing, holding and touching each other? Hmm.

The only time when I allow myself to be in close proximity with a woman is when there is a huge degree of attraction. Even with better lady frens, I refrain from unnecessary contact and maintain a respectable distance. I dun wan to be tagged a sleazebag or warrant any negative implications. My proximity is restricted, my physicality is for the selected and my touch is sacred. I dun need to touch one too many and I DEFINITLY wouldn't want my woman to be touched by plenty.

Much as I think those dances are interesting, I dun think I can make the cut anytime. Think I am better off learning Tai-chi, CY. Hah.

The apple from Eden.

I dream about it, I think about it.

The temptation is great, like the serpent urging me to take the first bite. The struggle between mind and body is putting morals to the test. But the body is weak, always weak, and one will be afraid...very afraid. Water will be still until stirred. But the undercurrents are strong, and tide is rising.

Be careful...be very careful. It's one thin, fine line between relief or remorse.

Like a moth circling the flame, it will reach its eventual end. It was short-lived, but the flame was beautiful, encapturing all its' senses, till the point of no return. It was beautiful while it lasted. But only just...only just.

The apple was sweet when you tasted it, isn't it? Sigh...how the sweetness lingered...
                               

Post schoolboy.

It's been like 16 years since I last sat inside a classroom, but damnz...the sleepiness feels like yesterday.

'Thanks' to my company's supportive stance of our government's policy to upgrade their employers and my manageress's very proactive gesture to 'benefit' her team, we are all signed up to attend 3 courses in the month of May.

Other than the freaking hours from 8:30am to 6pm, waking up early, travelling all the way to town AND missing my precious sleep... I am quite game for it. Only to realise it is a Microsoft Excel Module 4 Spreadsheets for the 1st course. Duhz. Though I am not professionally adequate to fully utilize this powerful program, but whatever I know is more than enough for daily work. This particular Excel lesson I am attending is so basic, it's really enticing my eyelids to shut. Hopefully the trainer is going to cover something more indepth tomorrow. Sheesh.

But sitting in a classroom again brings back fond memories of yesteryears. The perpectual yawning, the constant fidgeting, shaking of legs, the same restlessness and trying to do everything else other than concentrating on the lesson. *smile* ~sweet. Some things JUST never change, dun they? Hah.

Luckily they dun throw chalks for dozing off anymore. ZZzzz.