I'm finally 17. I don't feel like it (in truth I feel much older) but hey. It's a pretty number so I'll take it. The past year has been, definitely the most interesting one I've had and up till now the most defining one. I guess I've been forced to redefine various ideas and 'realities' I took forgranted and didn't think about in the past. I have morphed more than I thought possible, and this time I really like the change. It's been a tough year, I've gone through fire, met the best people possible (Ler and Siew, I mean you), have travelled to the best city in the world and grown mentally, and spiritually. Thankfully, I haven't grown physically. Heh.

Yesterday was a blast and I enjoyed myself. Despite my initial apprehension toward the day, it went on pretty well.

So, now for the thank yous.

The Usual Suspects (read: Derek, Xiu Ling, Li Xian, Wilbur, Yu Ting) celebrated my birthday for me with a wonderful(ly interesting... where the food looked alive and like various animal organs but nevermind...) dinner. I loved the company, and the games at Settlers after. Yu Ting next time I want to pair with you just to see what else you can think of during Taboo hahaha. Thank you, my lovelies for showering me with care attention and beautiful presents.

Many thanks to the lovely people in my life - Ler, Sua Gu Siew (heh it's such a cute nickname dear I can't help it), and Nigel - for the beautiful birthday wishes. If only all the things that were written were all 100% true. I'm very flawed, imo. But because of people like you, I believe I'm a diamond in the rough. But a diamond nonetheless. So thank you for seeing qualities in me that even I don't believe I have.

To everyone else for the well wishes, even for those who got the date wrong, thank you for remembering.

For you. Thanks for coming into my life and leaving your unique imprint onto the pages of my life, thank you for the colour you add.

For you. For staying in my life, and leaving more than an imprint. You guys know who you are, and I am really really grateful for you. Thank you.



I'm finally 17, and it feels awesome. 2007 is going to be awesome. I have faith it will be. (:



oh and one more thing, Happy Birthday Charlene! You are finally 19, and yes I pray you will fulfill your dream to be a housewife, have many babies, and be happily in love. Hahaha =D May the boy you love make you happy (otherwise I think your dad will leave him some broken legs :/) and you have a great year, hun. Love you!

Hello, you. You with your charm and confidence and wit. You will draw me to you and keep me interested, like no guy has ever really been able to do. Like a diamond, you will be multi-faceted with many talents and many gifts.

You might not be able to sing, but you'll try anyway. Because you know my dream is to be seranaded with Jason Mraz's 1000 Things.

You don't have to love all the music I love, or read all the books I read. But you will love music (read: Jason Mraz). And you will love reading. You will love knowledge. You will not be afraid to try new things and your enthusiasm for life will be so infectious that I too will want to wake up in the morning.

You will be a visionary, and you will have the capabilities to exceed all you dream to do, even if sometimes you don't believe in yourself. I like a certain amount of vulnerability in my man, you see.

You with that security in yourself that won't let me step over you. You will hold your on with me without being overbearing, and because of that I will respect you and even listen to you. You will fight for me. You will fight for us even when I give up sometimes, because I may grow tired.

Your grace and stoic strength will overlook my judgmental nature and impatience. You will help me change. You will know better than to let me push you away, because you have the faith that no matter what I (don't) do, I still love you and need you. Desperately. Even if you do go, you'll always come back to me.

You will be like my father. Because of all the awesome things I say about him, you'll be sorry you never got to meet my Dad.

You will have all the abilities he had - to be the life of the party because you will be so articulate people will be enraptured by you. To draw kids to you. To always be able to protect me and be dependable. To stick to your word. To make decisions wisely. You will love your family, and love your sisters especially. You will be the Edwin Louis Cole type of man. You will know that faithfulness is the cornerstone of character.

Sometime you will face mountains, but you will be the type who faces his fears and insecurities head on, with the knowleldge that gold is purified through fire and you are more than able with an awesome God. I will be there when you need me.

You will love Jesus more than you love me. You will not be flaky, but you will love Jesus fiercely. Passionately. And because of that I will want to love Jesus together with you.

And when we finally meet, you may not like me very much or you may be crazy over me. We will talk till the wee hours of the morning and you will be oddly romantic. We will have the worst fights too. Whatever it is, I know you're out there and I'm waiting for you.

I'm waiting and I can't wait to meet you.

People are extremely forgetful, so here goes.

My dearest, sweetest Woffles,

I love you more than you'll ever know. And I'm here to catch you if you fall, and hug you till you turn blue and feed you chocolate pie till you're on an Endorphin high.

Just because you are worth it.

(:

I originally intended to post about love, and how I am somewhat jealous of my beloved soulmate because she has found someone she loves (even if he is fugly and scrawny and... never mind).

Sometimes having someone to love is better than being loved, imo. Anyway.

She loves him and is really happy and she is back to being queen of woffly La La land. He isn't all that fabulous imo, but maybe thats because I don't see what she does and I can't seem to bring out the good in people like she can. She loves him, and simply on that alone, I believe he will (ultimately) be the type of person I envision her to be with - a true man's man. The Edwin Louis Cole maximised man.

I'm hoping her love for him propels him to change - to be a man worthy of her affection and be the man she believes he can be. Because if he doesn't, and he hurts her, I will actually inflict physical pain on him. Pulverise him to a pulp, and make him wish for death to come upon him so he can escape my torture...


But then I got really lazy to elaborate, and all my mind can think of now is how beautiful Mat Kearney's voice is and how similar it is to Chris Martin's (which is heavenly) and how much I love Where We Gonna Go From Here. It is disgustingly poignant and real. No sappy love lyrics, and crappy melodies. His voice hits my heart and I melt as I listen to the new found love I have on my iTunes.

Speaking of excellent music, I am loving Jewel's Goodbye Alice in Wonderland album (I know I am damn laggy but HEY. Better late than never) and thanking God for The Magic Numbers.

Ok, end of nonsensical post. Off to bed.

I have no idea why I like this photo, but I do. It was taken last Friday after Derek's fabulous birthday dinner celebration. It was candid and I like it.

And because I rarely post pictures of moi and my kakis, here's one nice one. Simply because I feel like it.

Grace finds beauty in everything.

I read the quote in some inspiring email I got, and among the many psuedo inspiring shit I've heard over the years, this phrase really struck me.

See, the thing about finding beauty is that it requires effort. The finding in itself requires you to look, to search, to bother to open your eyes wider and look at things from a different perspective.

Most people don't do that. Our eyes take for granted the beauty that we see everyday. As we rush through life, we barely have time to stop and smell the roses, to look at the beauty that surrounds you. I'm not just talking about the aesthetics of life, but also about situations, people, relationships...

It's so hard (hard in itself is an understatement) sometimes to find the beauty within some people, or some situations.

But like what Mr Toh said in Marketing - "Whose lens are you looking from?"

Grace finds beauty in everything. There will be beauty from ashes, if only you look hard enough.

Will you open your eyes?

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The above has nothing to do with the fabulous dinner I had with Bernard, the most awesomest cellgroup leader in the entirest universe. This is an extremely overdue piece I just forgot to post. Although dinner with him did make me feel lighter (well not exactly lighter, considering how much we ate :/) and happier. Thats the amazing thing about good friends - we don't hang out all the time, (because Mr. Always-On-Big-Screen-and-Famous is so extremely busy) but when we do it's incredibly uplifting and really fun. Knowing that despite his insane schedule and everything else we are still friends makes up for all the times I don't see him and we don't get to talk.

I have an awesome life, and awesome people around me. All things considered, I am disgustingly blessed.

And I choose to be happy. (:

"He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good."

----

You would have been 51. The dinner Mommy cooked just now should have been to celebrate your 51st birthday. It was an awesome dinner - she baked Portebello mushrooms and made really good chicken, wrapped in ham and cheese - that you would have loved. I would have probably bought you a top from Zara as a present. I always told you it was necessary to dress young since you needed to complement Mommy. Or a nice shirt from Raoul. You looked really smart in shirts, because you weren't fat. You were tall, and suave, and smart. You looked smart.
If you were around, we'd probably have chocolate eclairs after dinner - the ones you bought from St.Michael's - and we'd drink coffee and eat cake. Carrot cake that Mommy's famous for, or maybe a cake baked by Aunty Sandra.

But today we didn't. We talked about Jie's wedding plans, and her wedding photoshoot. It's tomorrow, you know. Tomorrow on your birthday. Skye's her photographer - you remember Skye, don't you? He has become this really awesome fashion photographer - not just one of those 'up and coming' ones anymore - and he's doing the photoshoot for free. I'm really excited, and I'm going to watch tomorrow. You know how I am with dressing up, or just watching people dress up. Hahaha.

I wonder what you're doing up in heaven. I wonder all the time. Are you still having really in depth conversations with David? Maybe a group discussion with Paul, David and even Job. You liked Job. I think you'd really click with Paul. I don't really know what else they do in heaven, but I'm sure its fun. And really pretty. I mean, the streets are paved with gold and the gates are made of pearl... it's gotta look awesome right? I'm sure they don't call it heaven for nothing. Do you look down when you're free? To check up on us, or just see how we're doing?

Do you have problems remembering us? Or is time no longer an issue for you? I often wish I could have one last conversation with you. I'd think of all the things I need to say and all the things I want to ask and need to tell you, but I know it won't happen. I'll save it for when I see you instead, ok? That way we'll have lots of stuff to talk about.

I miss you, and it hurts. Everywhere. It hurts everywhere. I mean, don't feel guilty or anything cos it's not really your fault - I know you wouldn't have left if you had a choice - but it really sucks sometimes. Not having you around really sucks. I miss you, and sometimes I feel horrible cos sometimes I forget. I've forgotten how you smell, and sometimes I forget minor details. It takes longer now than it did a few months back to remember what you sound like. And I feel guilty as hell for not remembering anything. I no longer dream. I don't dream of you. No dreams that I can remember, anyway. I wish I did though, cos' at least I'd remember more.

I'll be ok though. Don't worry about me. I'm still doing fine, overall. It's just the nights I don't like, and November. I don't really like November anymore. Guess its cos the idea of celebrating my birthday without you feels like swimming without a bikini - something important and necessary is lacking. But I'll be ok. I'm taking good care of mommy, and she's getting better too I guess. We all miss you though. I miss you like hell.

And one last thing, don't forget I love you ok. Even if you're busy up there with David, and you can't remember the minor details (like how I can't), just remember that I really really love you ok. And I'll see you soon. Happy Birthday (in about ten minutes), Daddy.

To my dearest duckie,

with whom I've had the funniest/deepest/most thought provoking conversations a girl could ever have;

who through his intellect and wit and never ending patience and grace for my constant questions managed to pull me out of the rabbit and to the edge of the rabbit;

the only MiniWikiMan to have lived - who protects nerds (like moi) with his flying dictionaries and astounds adversaries with his vast knowledge of all things;

the recipient of the MOST emails I have written to anyone;

my trusted friend and faithful confidante...

Thank you for everything these few years. Our friendship is proof to me that destiny and fate exists, and God pairs the best people up together. How else would a philosophy major and a Mass Comm. poly student living at opposite ends of the world be such good buddies? You're officially 23 now. Much wiser (and older) than when I first met you, and man I'm so glad I sticked around to see how you've morphed and changed to become even more brilliant than when I first met you.

So here's to you Nigel. To everything you are and everything you will be. To our friendship and the many more years you're gonna have to deal with my incessant questions. To your never ending quest for knowledge that pushes me to want to know more too. To when you finally become a professor and I get my Manolos.

I love you, I miss you (especially all the ear flicking - I've been flexing those finger muscles HEH HEH) and I can't wait for you to come back. (:

While walking along the streets of town yesterday, trying desperately to squeeze out some creative juices out of myself (all thanks to a Photography - minus the G - assignment I have), I came across this man. It may look like a snapshot (and it was) but I love it. He looks adorable, and it's my favourite picture out of the many I took.

I want to drop all the things I have to do, and take a nap one of these days. A nice, long nap. I really should.

"Possibly the only dismaying aspect of excellence is that it makes living in a world of mediocrity an ongoing prospect of living hell. The subtle distressing perturbation.

Michelangelo wrote: "Trifles make perfection and perfection is no trifle." Hardly a sentiment of our times, for a world of assembly lines and buck-passing and litterbugs.

Perfection. Excellence. What a passionate lover. But once having tasted the lips of excellence, once having given oneself to perfection, how dreary and burdensome and filled with anomie arre the remainder of one's waking hours trapped in the shackled lock-step of the merely ordinary, the barely acceptable, the just okay and not a stroke beter.

Sadly, most lives are fashioned on that pattern. Settling for what is possible, buying into the cliche because the towering dream is out of stock; learning how to avoid taking the risk of a dizzying leap. Miguel de Unamuno wrote: "In order to attain the impossible one must attempt the absurd." So the paradigm becomes all the Salieri shadows unable to touch the Mozart reality, all the respectably-talented but not awesomely-endowed Antonios fulminating with frustration at the occasional Amadeus. Excellence in the untalented and ordinary produces both pleasure and awe; but in the minimally-talented it produces hatred and envy and boils like sheep fat.

Excellence is its own master, owes no allegiance, bows its head to no regimen. It exists pure and whole like the silver face of the moon. Untouchable, unreachable, exquisite. But frustrating because it reminds us of how much mediocrity we put up with, just to get through the week."


And people ask me why I love Sandman, and Neil Gaiman. Pffft.


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There is nothing much to say, except for the fact that I'm feeling oddly melancholic and I can't shake it off. My friends seem to be a) unaware b) helpless c) shoving my mood under the carpet by not asking me whats wrong.

It's not their fault really. My mood is uncalled for I suppose. And since there's no one to talk to about it...

Guess I'm gonna be doing some carpet shoving.

Contrary to popular belief, I have no wishlist for my birthday, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it.

So there.

As I held up my pledge card and offering today during service, I could feel the tears. It sounds melodramatic, I know, and trust me I didn't expect myself to cry. But boy oh boy did I cry (thank god for waterproof eye makeup) as I placed my pledge card and offering envelope in the offering bucket. I'm not ashamed though. Giving my Precious - something that cost me, something that was a sacrifice - made me cry.

Sacrifices hurt. They're uncomfortable. They make you squirm, and they're inconvenient. We all hate inconvenience, it's so much easier to go the path of least resistance.

I've learnt one thing though - When sacrificing to an awesome God, it's always worth it. He never shortchanges, and He always blesses back. Thirty-fold, Sixty-fold, Hundred-fold... Most of all, He shows Himself faithful and He shows Himself to be very real in my life. Because even though I seem to be giving so much of my time/money/effort into church, I've never been short changed. I've never lived in lack, despite my supposedly smaller bank account. That's the best part imo - the revelation and the reaffirmation that He is very real and not only that, He can and wants to bless me.

So while I'm apprehensive and nervous and honestly scared shitless at the idea of sacrificing so much over the next 6 months, I also am dreadfully excited. At the prospect of stretching my faith, my capacity to give and my character. Also at the prospect of seeing an amazing God work in my life. It's going to take a hell lot of discipline and commitment for my to fulfill my pledge, and I'm sure it won't be all that comfortable, but it's worth it.

It's most definitely worth it.

Just because.




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I love dinners with Woffle like the one we had yesterday. Sitting at Long John Silver eating chocolate pie, talking about why people are the way they are.

Why are you, you? Who, or what, made you like the songs you listen to, the books you read? Why are some people more inquisitive than others? Why do some think, and others don't? How can two people with similar upbringing end up so vastly different? Is it utimately nature or nurture?

Go blog hopping (you probably are, since you're at my blog) and you will see the different styles of writing. From the introspective, to those who talk about how they woke up and brushed their teeth (I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of those people haha). It's very fascinating to see people's thought process - because what they deem important is what they pen down. And the weirdest thing, most of the people I read are roughly around the same age. All average Singaporean (teenager) writers, yet the styles are vastly different.


As we sat there and talked, I realised how glad I am to have found such a wonderful person in my life. Who I can shoot the shit with, and discuss world views with. So here's looking at you, babe. Specially from one self absorbed cow to another. (:

Do you remember

Do you remember coming into my room and suddenly swirling me off my chair into a slow dance? I had been mugging, and Toy Story's You've Got a Friend In Me was playing loudly on my speakers. For the rest of the song we danced, while I tried to stifle giggles. It was one of my favourite moments.

Do you remember that fateful conversation on MSN on 3 Dec where we talked till 4 in the morning and you told me you cared about me more than I would ever know.

Do you remember the fights we had, the way we kicked each other and screamed how much we hated each other?

Do you remember the times we spent at the canteen eating half a watermelon after PE.

Do you remember tucking me into bed and telling me you loved me?

Do you remember the time I wanted that watch from Takashimaya so bad that I whined and whined for days and you relented in the end?

Do you remember the times I sat on your lap crying, and you gave me a big fat hug.

Do you remember the time we walked home together, and you told me your most embarrassing secret and I told you mine?

Do you remember how I told you I loved you in a library.

Do you remember me? I was the girl of 5 who had mistaken you for her father and rushed to hug you. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

Do you remember the kiss I gave you on the MRT where my lips gently brushed yours before I got off the train? That was my first kiss.

Do you remember the first time you held my hand. You were so shy.

Do you remember our late night conversations about life and love? And our airport outings where you tried to teach me Math.

Do you remember our very first conversation when I'd thought you to be some stalker.

Do you remember why I call you duckie, and wormie, and my MWM. Our long emails, the telephone call the day my dad passed away.

Do you remember the time I slapped you, and told you to get out of my life. The harsh words I threw, the insults I spat. You took it, and you didn't retaliate.

Do you remember our animated conversations about music and movies and books? I was so happy to have found someone who had similar taste to me.

Do you remember how I walked out of your class abruptly because you were being so goddamn irritating.

Do you remember the time my shoes were giving me such bad blisters I took them off in the middle of the shopping mall. We were in Wisma, and people thought I was crazy.

Do you remember the first time I cried in front of you, and you told me you wouldn't be my leader, but my friend. It was probably then that I decided to respect you and look up to you the way I do now.

Do you remember the time I cried in your arms because the pain was too much to bear and you just hugged me? I think I soaked your tshirt.

Do you remember the time you asked me to marry you.

Do you remember the time we spent doing my 1500 piece jigsaw puzzle, and my dog destroyed it.

Do you remember how we exchanged glances at the swimming pool. You with your blue eyes and blond hair, looking at my from across the pool with that half smile on your face. I thought you were really cute.

Do you remember our late night suppers after Friday night service and how we discovered Ban Li. Those were the days.

Do you remember me, the girl who told you her name was Clara and then gave you her boyfriend's hp. number. I heard you had a fascinating convo. with him haha.

Do you remember how you saw me holding my handphone and crying in the LT of our secondary school. You must have thought I was crazy because we were in the midst of a debrief. You probably didn't know what I'd heard on the phone.

Do you remember me, the odd one in Secondary School who never did really fit in. Look where I am now, and look at yourself. Can you still believe I'm the girl you had a crush on and did homework for?

Do you remember how they sat us down and told us the bad news. How it might have spread to the lungs. Do you remember the fear, especially when seeing him cry. Because he never cried.

Do you remember the time when you looked me in the eye and told me that you loved me.

Do you remember the times you would take a cab to pick me up from school. And our bus rides back to my house. There was this one time you'd come to pick me up in a cab, in your then favourite kaki pants and white old sneakers. It was there and then in that cab I thought you were the one.

Do you remember the time we went shopping, and tried on a crazy amount of clothes and bought nothing in the end. I was so grateful you were the one I was going prom dress shopping with.

Do you remember the Mraz concert, when I was so dizzy with excitement when you picked me up from work.

Do you remember how you caught a lizard and you put it 3 inches in front of my face. After I finally registered what the hell was staring at me I screamed so loud all the neighbours must have heard. You found that so amusing that in the end I did too. It was one one of the best days during your sickness because you were yourself again.


I still remember.

November is here. The year is coming to a close, and what a year it has been. How different my life is now, compared to last year.

He was still around.

His birthday is coming - he would have turned 51 - and I can't help but dread the arrival of that day. There is nothing more to celebrate. I don't even really want my birthday to come. Because he's not here. We used to celebrate our birthdays together. There'd be a big party, and we'd share a cake. It was really, really nice.


I miss him.