The morning started with my dad giving me a lift to work, and we spoke of the routine stuff, as well as how baby is doing.

My glasses had fell apart and he was trying to fix it for me as I went about brushing my teeth, blind as a bat.

I got to work, and then I realise I do enjoy the solitude, and the quietness.

I haven’t been feeling extremely social, and the weekend was a great indicator of such.

I got home early on Friday (slightly after 6pm), and I washed my hair, and fell asleep by 7pm, after I had strummed by guitar (the Wii set, not MY set).

I thought it would be a short nap, until I was roused to consciousness by a phone call at 3.30am.

I slept more than I would on normal nights when it was just a nap.

I read the news, caught up on my Dai-dee games on viwawa, and did a little bit of reading. All the time, not leaving my bed.

I went back to sleep at 7, and the next time I saw was past 12 noon.

I read and read and read. I surfed and surfed and surfed. I rocked and rocked and rocked. I blogged and blogged and blogged. I dai-deed and dai-deed and dai-deed.

And then it was evening.

I spent the bulk of time reading, finishing by 6-ish, just when Shaun, Mao and Effy reached my place with dinner in tow.

And then, we started mahjong early, and ended early, cos we all had things to do.

It was a great evening, and a nice way to ahem, release the pent up stress we had over the week.

With the early session of mahjong, I managed to doze off pretty swiftly on a Saturday night, at 2am.

And when Sunday came, it was…. gasp…. 4pm!

I woke up, and the same old routine happened again, and I started on a new book, Perfect Match by Jodi Picoult. I was enticed by the story until half way through the book when it got too depressing for me to read. I didn’t quite like Vanishing Acts, or rather, I didn’t like it at all.

Some books just leave a bad taste in your mouth and I just have to remind myself a lot of things can’t go with whatever we want, and there is little point of wanting everything my way.

The night concluded with me trying to sleep, and could hardly do so, as I believe I had overdosed on sleep over the weekend.

I wanted to wake for the Spain V Germany match, and as always, it didn’t quite happen.

But for once, Spain didn’t break my heart, and I am one very happy girl.

***

Much things have changed in the office, with the resignation of a very senior colleague. I am not close to him for sure, but it is something that is out of the expectation I guess.

But changes in life are inevitable, isn’t it? People move on, and people just want to be in a better place.

So I guess, while coping with the sense of loss, we know that everyone is growing, moving on, and perhaps, happier.

I am not sure how this will change things in office, but I am sure this is just going to be a start. For the better? For worse?

That’s subjective, isn’t it?

I have been wanting to write about this since last week, but just didn’t seem to have the time(and urge) to finally got down to doing it.

And somehow, what happened the night before kinda set the tone for a morose-filled weekend, and aptly touch the topic I had wanted to blog about.

All thanks to Brian, who extended an invite to me to attend an event by Ogilvy on 18th June, which allowed me the chance to meet the vivacious, shamelessly sentimental, and wonderfully talented Yasmin Ahmad, as well as getting acquainted with her brilliant productions which I would otherwise never know.

The socially awkward Brian met the socially awkward Ting, and it was pretty funny when I joked to Effy and her sister Banana, when I read the press kit and saw what was quoted of the director.

“While many of us value the relationships we have with our family members, not everyone is fortunate enough to grow up in a two parent household with all the comforts of life. I wanted to portray something from the cliches and connect with the audience on a more intrinsic level: that we can all find love in the family from the relationships we have.” — Yasmin Ahmad

“Hey, now I can see why I am invited!”

Brian shyly interrupted, “Uh, sorry for eavesdropping, but quite honestly it was indeed so.”

I laughed at his honesty which I deeply appreciated, as prior to the event, I was seriously wondering why I was invited, and promptly dragged Effy and Banana along.

All of us were pretty much lazy and yet, we still turned up, after surviving a long walk to The Screening Room. Yet, when we left, we were all glad we did, and it left us feeling warm and fuzzy for days to come.

We were first treated to a series of Yasmin Ahmad’s past work for Petronas, and I later sheepishly admitted that I teared in the theatre-liked darkness.

Of course there was one that made all of us coo, and laugh.

Tan Hong Ming In Love:

Though I must say I love the one about the reunion dinner. It made me cry. But I can’t seem to find the youtube link for it.

And the reason why we were all there for, the film that was about family, which some of you would have seen aired over the television these days.

FAMILY.

After the lights came on, Yasmin explained her ideas behind the film, when some of the guests questioned her concept of what constitutes a family.

Effy and I were annoyed at how some of the people could be so narrow-minded, and telling Yasmin how Singaporeans will not be able to relate to it.

One of them commented that “At home, we have one set of grandparents and a set of parents, and four of us could hardly manage, and it is hard for us to imagine how one parent can handle like in the film.”

Like, seriously?!

And they went on and on about how Singaporeans cannot accept this kind of concept, cos it ain’t real.

Like hello? In the ad, the mother died early, and the thing is, I have friends who lost BOTH their parents since young, and had their uncles/aunties raising them, and to them, they are never less of a family, you know? You can control one meh?!

And then there was one who commented how can a father be that patient, and it isn’t realistic.

And knowing how socially awkward I can be, my colleagues, friends and ex-schoolmates could verify how I HATE TO SPEAK OUT PUBLICLY. Especially in front of strangers.

I just loathe the feeling of having my tongue tied, and having all the eyes on you when you start speaking.

By then, Effy turned to me with her eyes rolled, “aren’t you gonna say something?”

When Yasmin turned her head to us, I found myself speaking. I immediately regretted the moment I did.

I found myself speaking of my Dad. The one who is a known tyrant to my mum, his family and his brothers.

The one who has no patience for almost anything, with the exception of me, and Minibean.

And then I spoke of the awkwardness that grew as I stepped into teenagehood, and how I always assumed he couldn’t understand, and was angry with him even, cos I was just, angry.

I thought of the days when Mum was not around and he would take care of me with plenty of clumsiness. We became untidy, we burnt a pot when he was cooking and threw away the evidence, making a pact that we would not tell Mum.

I thought of the cold-wars I had with him when I couldn’t get my way, before my guilt would consume me when he walked into the room in silence. And the guilt would have killed me when he returned home the next day with the ransom I demanded, so I would free all those stubbornness, and finally release the smiles.

I must have been really young back then, but my memory bank still serves me well.

I thought of how close we were when I was a mere kid, how he used to piggyback me and carry me around even though I was of my present height, back when I was twelve.

It was a journey of emotions when the film was aired.

And then I thought of how things changed as he aged, when he had that major heart attack, and he was no longer playing hide-and-seek with me, or going on to roller coaster rides with me.

I believe I could understand, but I just simply didn’t want to.

These days, I look at how he has aged, and I would feel sad.

Of course, there were much things on my mind I never did get to speak about, cos my nervousness got the better of me.

And then, there was also Minibean.

10 or 15 years down the road, will she be harbouring the same attitude towards me cos I didn’t give her what she wants? Or what she deserves?

And I laughed at the detail when the father said, “Your daughter ah!”, which I said once too often when totally exasperated.

There are too many other complicated elements that I perhaps will never get out of my system but they don’t quite matter when you simplify all things, and you realise, what you have with each family member, can form little snippets of the ad.

I could visualise what I could have with my Mum, and it just makes me realise it is just the simplest things we often overlooked, yet it is them which show us the most.

I was a floodgate of emotions that night.

And I am just gutted that at this point of my life, I couldn’t give them more, when they need it.

I wonder if I am more of a burden than a relief for them.

I never have the chance to tell them, nor would I ever, I think, cos “traditionally”, this is just not how things work, isn’t it?

Even a simple word of thanks, is not something we normally would say, cos it just seems so mushy and awkward.

But yes, if I could string a sentence of what I mean but could never say, it would have the words “sorry”, “thank you”, “love” all in them.

I am not feeling all too great today.

Many things running through my mind.

I so shouldn’t have splurged on the Rock Band. I so shouldn’t have spent on things I don’t really need. I so shouldn’t have eating expensive meals that make me fat. I shouldn’t have taken a cab yesterday.

I so shouldn’t.

I am still stuck here, going no where.

I wish I can get out of the predicament.

I don’t know how to.

***

I sang. I rocked. I played till my hands were numbed from the aircon wind.

I read.

I played Dai dee.

I was just pretty restless and feeling at ease and peaceful in my personal space.

Then Dad’s call came. There was just something he was saying and wasn’t saying.

And this probably sets the mood for me, for a long time to come.

I thought it would hurt, but strangely, I felt nothing.

It was exactly what I saw on her face, on their faces, that everything became crystal clear.

I saw it in her. In her. In her. And in him.

And you thought someone closest to you should have known better. And you thought looking beyond all those facades you would find someone you would know so well, believing in the better of her, simply because, there is no doubt.

And then what she said repeated itself over and over in me.

I didn’t find the consolation I need. All I found is a sense of coldness, that slowly kills the warmth in me.

It should. It is what it is there for.

No doubt, it is a shame.

No bitterness, just understanding. And that’s why, bitterness is for them to hold, not for us to do so.

I should be glad I get the better end of the bargain.

Cos at least, it didn’t hurt.

… it still is surreal.

Yesterday, I saw a poignant series of pictures on Tetanus’ site. Life before death made me slow my lightning pace in the office, and took my breath away.

Most of the pictures are taken weeks before they passed on, or some, even days.

So many questions ran through my head. How did they feel? Do they know when? Isn’t it so scary when you are never gonna wake up next? With that much pain they suffer, is it… a release?

It was almost 4 weeks ago, when I visited the fighter.

It was the first and only time I saw him fight.

I saw his life, through people around him, a tightening grasp of the hand, a pat on the back, the resigned smiles, the hidden sadness, the matter-of-fact tones, the constant jokes and banterings that kept coming in……

I saw his life, before…

***

I wish I was there when you needed someone.

Be well, be strong.

After attending the event last Saturday, Nuffnang has put in immense efforts to followup with those bloggers who were there, and Health Promotion Board has put forward a poem which we saw. I think the message needs to be spread, and the awareness has to be raised.

Why do you see me through tinted glasses?
It breaks my heart into a million pieces.
The day I knew I was positive,
all people around me turned negative.

Some of you think that I deserve it,
and so in your society I no longer fit.
But just like you I did not know,
so now my tears abundantly flow.

 

 

 

I had faith in my partner,
that he loved me and none other.
But the truth was revealed;
that one mistake and my fate’s been sealed.

 

 

 

Please don’t look at me through tinted glasses,
support me as I pick up my life’s broken pieces.

 

Anonymous”

Sometimes, all of us need to do, is take off the rose-tinted glasses, and widen our narrow minds. Like the campaign says best, Open Your Heart.

I was invited by Nuffnang to attend an event organised by Health Promotion Board over the weekend, and it touched on a solemn topic which sadly, is viewed as a taboo topic more often than not.

We have heard much about AIDs, but most of the time, we are educated on the prevention against you, and rarely are we educated on the social impacts it brings.

I have much on my mind throughout the forum, yet when it comes to the time to jot them all down on this space, I no longer know what to write.

There are too many messages across to educate us on AIDs, but the focus is too much on how deadly, and how ‘dirty’(often linked to sex/prostitution) it is, mostly, the preventive measures when it comes to AIDs.

The results is that it becomes too much of a taboo subject, just like how sex is viewed in a conservative society like ours. And truth is, people are afraid of the unknowns, and would rather opt out of blood tests, or that they will feel offended cos they feel you are implying they are dirty.

You could have only one partner, but if your partner had 2 partners before you, how are you so sure that one of them didn’t have 60 partners before?

You could perhaps safely say you practise monogamy, but then, you can’t deny there is even a remote risk there that you are ignoring.

And then, there are some people would rather be ignorant and not know. And they will get all awkward when asked to be tested.

And then, there are the ones who feel judged, when you tell them you should get tested, because they narrow-mindedly feel you are making a judgment on their characters by suggesting that.

But it is like routine practises overseas, where youngsters, automatically make it a point to go for routine blood test every year, once they are sexually active.

Blood tests should be viewed as a routine, and not be viewed as something that sensitive or scary.

In fact, I have had 3 HIV tests done in the past 2 years. Once for my PR, once for Minibean’s birth, and most recently, for employment status.

But I was surprised to hear most people would rather opt out, and rather not buying peace.

But I could roughly relate to how it is like, cos I haven’t had my follow-up check up since my pre-cancerous cells surgery 5 years back, simply because I am afraid what I would find.

And I think, everyone should go, or at least, consider going for a blood test, which will only cost you $20 to do so.

It shouldn’t matter whether you have had one sex partner, or many more times than that, but it is just that you will never know. And it shouldn’t be anything embarrassing.

It should be just like any other blood test that counts your cholestrol levels or blood sugar levels.

Maybe, ’someone up there in the management’ should consider bundling blood tests as a package or renamed it to something less intimidating like “Blood analysis”, and not label it scaringly like HIV blood test.

Then again, it already is so hard to convince people to watch their diets and get their cholestrol levels measured, I could forsee it ain’t gonna be an easy task.

Do consider making it a yearly routine, and package it with your usual body checkup, and get your heads around the negativities you perceive a HIV blood test to be.

***

Now, besides educating people the importance of getting themselves tested, another topic covered is another issue that I feel strongly about.

AIDS, and discrimination.

It is not easy to change perceptions, not in narrow-minded Singapore, not in a place where people are quick to become self-righteous and play the moral-police, and not in a place where people only hear what they want to hear, and pass the verdict they want to.

“AIDS? Man! It means death. It means dirty. It means death. It means you are morally-wrong.” And then they would jump into a chemical bath to scrub themselves clean, and thereafter, protect themselves by wearing an astronaut suit.

Honestly. Should someone you hate, just because, for whatever reasons, say, being better-looking than you, achieving more than you, having more attention than you, or richer than you, or in whatever ways make you feel threatened, unfortunately has AIDs, wouldn’t you be quick to say he/she deserves it, and that he/she will be quick to become your next gossip fodder so that you could get everyone to discriminate against the person?

You see, people are too quick to judge, to quick to discriminate, not because of their own fears, but sometimes, on too selfish(and shallow) a reason for anyone to understand.

The event, covered the social stigma sounding people who are diagnosed with AIDs, and how they are often judged and isolated by the society, and sadly, people closest to them.

And people are quick to dispense sympathy to those who are transmitted through their unfaithful spouses, or by medical means, but yet are quick to judge and crucify those who they assume led ‘dirty lifestyles’.

I once read a report of how a woman has AIDS(I think it is unimportant to pinpoint how exactly she had it), and her sons and family still eat the food she prepares, and lead day to day lives the way it was before she was diagnosed. They supported her through it, and came to terms with it by taking extra care in daily lives, and things shouldn’t have to change.

And that happened locally, and it is great to know that people are educated enough to handle it the best they could.

Unfortunately, I believe this is just one of the rare examples of positivity.

Many others had their world came crashing down after they told people they thought they could trust, and ended up being alienated from the society.

People lost their jobs, after disclosing to people they have accountabilities to, or their families, when they were looking for bare traces of support…  and the list continues.

I believe people who thought of ending their lives are not just simply afraid of dealing with something incurable, but they are just afraid of the scariest, deadliest aspect of it of all, the discrimination, the social stigmas, the lonely road of battling it all by their own.

That, is perhaps their death sentence. Not AIDS.

Ask yourself, will you still be a friend, should you find out someone you know is diagnosed with AIDS?

Ask yourself, are you one of those who will be quick to throw a stone to judge when someone you know is diagnosed with AIDS?

Or will it become your personal agenda to get the world behind you to outcast him/her?

Will you hold his/her hand? Will you hug him/her? Will you just… be supportive? Will you be just.. normal?

I am sure there will be times we will not how to react, there will be times we will not know how to deal with it and be sensitive… and there will be times we don’t know if someone would want to talk openly about it.

But first, let’s just learn to open our hearts, cos at the end of it, it may be just us, who think we are the know-it-all, that really need the education.

I know you probably have lots of them at this point. I am sorry I am not able to be there to answer them. I am sorry you think this way of me. I am sorry that I might be too stubborn.

I am not sure how I go through this routine everyday anymore.

I think I am happy this way. But am I truly? Every morning starts with heavy talks, and I am tired of ending every night with the same heaviness in my chest.

I am lucky I still have my cough medications to induce sleep.

I don’t know.

I am busy. I am darn freaked out by the deadlines and the ping-pong of decisions.

And uh, let’s see how long my adrenaline lasts me.

Did I mention a colleague asked if I am a blogger? Simply because he hears my furious typing everyday and he deduces that my fast typing must be because I am a blogger.

Oh no. I can’t bitch anymore.

Hurhur.

Not that I have the time and chance to anyway. It is weekend and I am actually just happy I am in jeans and glasses.

I haven’t been able to wear lens since my eye was swollen. It looks okay but it still tears painfully this morning.

I have a new tagline I always use. Sibei sian.

I need mahjong therapy tonight.

This town is colder now, I think it’s sick of us
It’s time to make our move, I’m shakin off the rust
I’ve got my heart set on anywhere but here
I’m staring down myself, counting up the years
Steady hands, just take the wheel…
And every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal… for the life I lead

Stop and stare
I think I’m moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I’ve become what I can’t be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you’re ‘here’ not there
And you’d give anything to get what’s fair
But fair ain’t what you really need
Oh, can u see what I see

They’re tryin to come back, all my senses push
Un-tie the weight bags, I never thought I could…
Steady feet, don’t fail me now
Gonna run till you can’t walk
But something pulls my focus out
And I’m standing down…

Stop and stare
I think I’m moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I’ve become what I can’t be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you’re here not there
And you’d give anything to get what’s fair
But fair ain’t what you really need
Oh, you don’t need

What u need, what u need…

Stop and stare
I think I’m moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I’ve become what I can’t be
Oh, do u see what I see…

I think I’m moving but I go nowhere.

Breathe. You guys told me to.

And I will.

The confidence you guys had given me is something… I could have never given myself.

Really. If only, I believe, too.

I will be there. And here.

Steady feet, yes steady feet, don’t fail me.

The only things I did worth mentioning over the past few days(besides spending time with my amazingly adorable princess), are…. mediocre gambling sessions(can you fucking believe it? I didn’t play mahjong over Chinese New Year! It’s a sin!), and pretty enjoyable partying sessions(well, definitely could be better sans the drama, but I can chuck that aside).

Minibean and my parents have been staying over for almost a week now(Okay, fine, with 2 days spent in Malaysia visiting relatives), and they are going to stay till Wednesday.

Things are better between Mum and I now, but then an episode today totally gave me the creeps.

I think my past is here to haunt me, and I was terribly uncomfortable.

Well, it happened cos she had thought I was heading out, when in fact I changed my mind and then I was hiding in my room after my shower.

And then, she tried to open my door. Normally I would lock it, and maybe she thought she would get lucky this time.

I mean, either way, 1) If I were home, she should have blardy knocked. 2) If I weren’t home, she had no fucking business to snoop in my room.

Throughout the evening, she was freaking shouting and screaming at my baby. It was the tone and the volume that made me jump, and I nearly acted up by opening the door and confronted her.

I didn’t. I froze. I stayed where I was and hid safely under the bed. And then it all came back to me.

I should be out there rescuing my baby, isn’t it? I tried to listen, and I tried to find excuses for her shouting. Mum has always equate shouting with authority, and I know what she was trying to do. Most kids didn’t like my mum cos she is the kind who would just lecture and shout and scream at anyone, thinking that is the most effective way of disciplining people. Eventually, she became the one every kid wanted to irritate, because there is really nothing she could do except making a nuisance of herself.

And much to my relief, she was trying to warn Minibean not to go near her as she was mopping and she might floor. But every single sentence she was screaming at my poor baby(”Go away!” “Don’t come near me!”), and I did nothing. Helplessly sat in my bed and did nothing.

Honestly, baby is with her most of the time, and like a friend always reminded me, I have to rely on her and she is taking care of Minibean and I can’t afford help on my own, so I have not much rights, do I?

And then I remember how she had never shouted baby that way when either Dad or I were around. I mean, she still shouts(that’s why I never have peaceful mornings with her around. Now she does that to baby, and in the past, she does that to me x 10 the violence).

I listened hard, and was ready to pounce on her if she was being mean to my baby.

I am worried she would start using rejection as a means to discipline Minibean. I would definitely make sure she never stays close to my baby if she ever does that.

I opened the door, and she was utterly surprised when she saw me, and asked when was I back.

I didn’t say anything.

I surprised myself  for not saying anything and just went into the room to look at my sleeping baby.

I felt like the most fucked up mother ever.

And I start to know where Minibean learnt all those voice-raising skills from.

***

When I had the slight urge to want to blog about it, my blog experienced some silly down-time.

Now, at 5.15am, I am not sure if I should start blogging.

I mean, by the time I finish with the post and the almost 200 pictures that were to follow(most likely I will sift them out and upload the bulk of them on facebook)…. I could probably greet the day like how I did for the past days…. watching daylight seeping through the curtains.

I still have no idea how to sort the pictures. Hmm.

Chronological order, it shall be.

Seems like I really am braving the attempt and sacrifice some sleep tomorrow.