This week's been good and busy; dinner with Taiki, roast at Viv's, Sweeney Todd with Hilda, and 27 Dresses with Angie. I can't help but feel despite the activities neatly lined up to a tee, it hasn't been very fruitful. Stuffing my days with people and activities, filling every spare moment with idle nitty-gritties, I think I'm scared to be alone. Every night I spend a few brief moments reading my bible and praying and I think about how there were so many spare hours in the day I could have used to delve in His word, seeking rest in His grace.

I really need to learn not to seek my comfort in worldly things, but to run to Him first in everything. To hydrate myself daily in His word, communing with His Spirit. I'm not even doing anything in particular, and I feel so drained. I neeeeeed You.

A month into 2008 and already it has left a bitter taste in my mouth, like taking medicine for the first time. It's funny because I'm normally ready for the new year. The start of the year usually pans out nice and slow, increasing in pace as I run through the year. But 31 days into this year and I still haven't found my footing. Again, I know it's Him teaching me to increase my faith and hold to Him as I continue to carry my cross. I really need to live out His word more in my life!

Moooore, MOREE, MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOREE.

Okay, completely random but 27 Dresses was pleasantly good. Now I wanna get married!

Entering into week 2 of Alone-in-Brisbane and I'm trundling along fine, save a few pangs of loneliness and bouts of emo-ness where I sat in front of the telly tearing at the sad bits, which truthfully, weren't very devastating at all. The xiaojie at the asian dvd shop was right, Lesley was right, Coffee Prince is a really good series. I sat for hours, running disc after disc through the player, basking and weeping in television euphoria. The last time I felt this way about an asian series was My Girl which was a whole year ago.

I spent my first week in Brisbane at BLT which was terrific; munching on the word of God, growing, learning, humbled and challenged. And there was also that prick of conversation every hour at BLT where we sat on top of our bunks, sharing little tears and fears over packets of Maltesers, which I treasured very much.

I haven't done very much with my time so far other than meeting up with people and eaaaating lots of foooooooood. I haven't quite gotten used to the inflated prices yet; peeling out an average of $10 a meal still hurts my pockets.

I watched Sweeney Todd today. Disappointing, disappointing, disappointing! I liked the cinematography, but the songs were disappointing. I couldn't make out the lyrics clearly half the time, the songs all sounded the same, and I didn't really like how they would suddenly burst into song while talking halfway. And I think I got abit sick of seeing a continuous stream of slashed throats and spewing blood.

My 2.1 megapixel camera died on me before I left and I very stupidly left my better but bigger camera in Singapore so all I have left is my grainy phone camera which has no flash. Thankfully, I managed to retrieve my pictures from my spoilt camera so I still have my pictures from my last week in Singapore!

Last day of work! We ate an extremely crap thai restaurant

Hotpot with the hotpot hotties!

Met Eggtarts on a Sunday afternoon for fooooooood

Met Eric and Marc on a Sunday afternoon for idle chitchat
My last supper with the girls, figuratively speaking. Our appetites have shrunk considerably compared to our glorious days of copious amounts of food. I miss lamian and xiaolongbaos!
Requisite toilet shot. Where's Cass and Sooozie?!
Model STUDENT Mich

I MISS YOU FRIENDS!

It is Day 1 in Brisbane in 2008. I couldn't sleep last night; the bed was new and unfamiliar and the light had an irritating faint flicker even when the switches were off. I woke up late today (10 Singapore time, 12 Brisbane time) and headed to the bank, then to Coles to buy shampoo. It was a strenuous trek, the scorching sun beating on my back, the air hot and muggy save for the occasional breeze. I miss David's car! And I miss having housemates. I don't think I could ever live alone. My room is halfpacked and I really ought to get rid of my hoarding habit. I think it's time to clean out everything that I don't need. It makes packing and unpacking very difficult. Today felt like the first time I arrived in Brisbane; refamiliarising, the beating sun and the ticklish scent of slathered sunscreen.

For the first time in two years I've been in Brisbane, this is the most homesick I've ever been. Hello so year three.

10ish hours till I'm on a plane bound for Brisbane. I am feeling very emotional for some reason. I watched 200 Pound Beauty on telly and when she made her speech at the end, the tears wouldn't stop streaming out of my eyes. I wonder if I'll cry at the airport tomorrow. Although I think it's very stupid to cry when it's the 5th time I'm leaving the airport for an extended period of time. I'm going to be at the new Changi terminal tomorrow: terminal 3. I hope there's a McDonald's so I can eat a hash brown and sausage mcmuffin before I hop on the plane. I can't believe I'm heading back so soon. OH HELPPPPPP. I think I'm going to miss Singapore and my family and dog and frieeeeends............. Sniff.

Sometimes I think a song is a mere empty shell of words and melodies because it doesn't become anything until the heart fills it up. I was talking to someone today who told me about a song that we were listening to and all of a sudden the song became so much more because his heart filled it up, every note and word became poignant with memories and feelings.

After that, I couldn't help but think of all the songs that I filled up in the last few years. I filled it up with memories, I filled it up with wistful longings, I filled it up with hopes and fears, I filled it up with tears and laughter, I filled it up with myself. If I could deliver my life in any way, I think I'd like to deliver my life in a soundtrack. I've this sudden urge to run through the music in my library and dig up every song that I'd filled up and float down aisle of my past. I like remembering; it reminds me what it's like to feel again however brief or slight, it reminds me of how I used to be, it reminds me of... well, me. Because sometimes I get older and forget.

Oh it's what you to do me, Oh it's what you do to me.

I wonder what it's like to be so special to someone that they never forget. I wonder what it's like to be irreplaceable. And indispensable. Because even if I ever was, it was only for a while. And that renders the words 'never', 'irreplaceable' and 'indispensable' obsolete doesn't it? Time heals all wounds. That's mostly a good thing, but sometimes I wish time wouldn't take me away.

I thought with each year that passes, I'd be a lot more adroit at handling my own feelings. I thought as I grew older, such superfluous and puerile feelings would go away. But then I realised, it doesn't. You just get a lot better at hiding them.

I had a good day today. I got a haircut which put me in a petulant, churlish mood, like I always do when I get a new haircut. Then I felt bad because it actually looks pretty nice now that I look at it. I had a very nice afternoon tea break of sandwiches, salad and soup with my mum. I love casual lunches; just my mother and me. There's something so timeless about it, like being a grown up and little girl all at the same time. I visited Eric's new apartment in Singapore after. It's one of those new, spiffy, modern numbers: high ceiling to floor glass windows, bleach wood and white walls. It's even got that faint freshly painted smell of wood and whitewash on it. Then we watched I am Legend and did some retail therapy. I like shopping with people who have similar tastes to mine; it's very reaffirming!

I had a good day yesterday too. Felt very similar to today; rolling around in bed for the better part of the afternoon, dinner, shopping, conversation, supper and more conversation. Both days felt like similar, categorised blocks; so similar in activity, so distinct in company. The best part about people is that no two people can make you feel the same way. And the worst part about people is that no two people can make you feel the same way.

Which brings me to the point that although good days are so satisfying, I can't help but feel resentful. Good things don't flow and meander like rivers anymore, but exist in remote, sanitised capsules. It never feels like I've lived a good memory nowadays. They were all merely poorly recorded chunks of activities with different people and the memory spans a day. Just a day.

Work ended on Wednesday and I don't feel like I've stopped moving since work started. And now that work has come to a close, rest is still bereft of me because I don't have much time in Singapore left. So efficiency prevails and I bottle people and activities into days, carrying it with me like a pack of pills. Ever since the festive period petered off, I haven't taken a single picture. I think pictures, although very apt, give an activity way more that it's due. And I guess I don't need a thick stack of photos which enlarge and magnify every single bit of nostalgia within me. Although I'm quite sure in three weeks, I'll live to regret saying this and bemoan my laziness.

I'm veryyyyyyyyy tired. I'm thinking it must be foolish to feel lonely and scared amidst the flurry of fun and 'good days'. But yet, I can't think of anything that makes more sense. If only I had the words to express it. Goodnight :)

I've been reading Ephesians recently (how God-planned! I was beginning to read Ephesians when I received the BLT email about how it would be beneficial for those in strand 1 to read Ephesians!) and it's been hammering home lately the message of maturing, being filled to the measure of the fullness of Christ! And how fantastic is that thought: that God is moulding and changing us, filling us to the fullness of Christ. I used to think, okay, yes, I am going to be more like Christ. But as I read through Ephesians all over again, it's amazing how by Jesus' death and resurrection, the penalty has been taken for us, and our identity is now in Christ! That as we walk with Him daily in obedience and reverence, He's changing us and growing us to attain a maturity that was in Jesus.

So I sat down with a pen and prayed, asking God to open up my eyes to all the things I needed to let Him change and the things He wanted me to do and the list got longer and longer and longer and I realised how far I was (still am) from attaining the maturity that's in the fullness of Christ.

Weeell,
"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armour of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore, put on the full armour of God, sot hat when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up your shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for the saints."

Yup, it's time to grow and mature in Christ and it's serious business in God's army. Fatigue has made me slack, but He has reminded me to suit up and draw my strength from Him and His power.

Anyway, in cheery news, it's my second last day of work today and I am brimming over with excitement that in exactly 31 hours, I AM A FREE BIRD! I can start clocking regular hours of sleep and living the life of a student on holiday. Oh, and I bought the final copy of Meteor Garden II yesterday. It's so old, it smells of mothballs. I wonder how long it's been in storage.

I've been on a bit of a tv and book rampage these last few days. I've polished two and half out of the three books that I bought last Thursday, I've armed myself with three new boxes of dvds to tide me through the lonely month in Brisbane before uni starts, and I've been getting re-acquainted with my old love Hana Yori Dango, although I am mysteriously missing disc 9. Watching Hana Yori Dango again has got me embarrassingly yearning for the somewhat ill-acted but incredibly compelling Meteor Garden series because I am finding it difficult reading the chinese subtitles as quickly as the characters spit out the dialogue in Japanese. I've scoured most shops which told me that they don't carry the series anymore. Ebay was going to be my last-ditch attempt at procuring it, when I found season 2 hidden in a small dingy dvd store near Raffles Place! Cel thinks season 2 is awful as she cannot stand a certain actress, but I rather liked season 2 because I am a fan of quiet, aloof but caring boys, so GO HUA ZE LEI! Yay for season 2. I am going to drown myself in television euphoria tonight.

Ok, end of embarrassing girly rant~

In other tv news, I am still horribly stuck at episode 6 for both Gossip Girl and Heroes. I want to watch them so much that I even subjected myself to spoiler torture by googling Gossip Girl recaps. So now I know the gist of episodes 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and 12. That's desperation at it's worst. If you have the episodes, tell me!

I finished Shopaholic and Baby and The Kite Runner over the weekend. And now I'm halfway through Magaret Atwood's Moral Disaster which hasn't disappointed so far. I bought an old copy of The Blind Assassin in November because I simply couldn't remember anything about it when I read it five years ago. I figured owning my own copy would help conjure the plot and story. So far everyone I know who's read it, has waxed lyrical about it. But I don't remember what so compelling or riveting because it has completely slipped my memory. I don't remember a thing. So once I'm done with Moral Disaster, I will tackle The Blind Assassin again. And hopefully this time, my brain honed and developed with time, will be able house the novel for all it's worth. Then I'll decide again whether I liked it or not.

Reading all these books makes me feel like a terrible writer. I can string a sentence and make it sound halfway decent, but I don't think I say very much with my words. If my words have ever stitched a heart, nudged a soul, pricked a laugh, then perhaps all my words haven't gone to waste.

I was just thinking what I would do in that month of solitude in Brisbane. Perhaps solitude is too harsh and remote a word, but without my family and even some of my Brisbane friends, solitude doesn't seem so unfamiliar. I've decided that I'll use that time to do the things I love the most. Other than running disc after disc of television euphoria, I will read the Bible more, write more, play more guitar, write songs. After that one song I wrote, my creative juices have come to a standstill. Maybe I haven't had time, I haven't had the inspiration. But I do want to use that one month, free from schedules, free from work, to hone myself.

In the meantime, I want to go home and curl up with a book. Then run episode after episode of Meteor Garden til I fall asleep.

I don't recall being this tired in a long time. I can barely think or function. I'm blogging for the sole purpose of allowing the wheels of my brain to click into motion, spark an interest, then stir the fatigue out of my system so I actually have an attention span of more than 2 seconds.

It's so easy to be invisible, I realised, after working for a couple of weeks. Especially being at the bottom of the food-chain. You really are plankton; tiny, drifting bits of microscopic organisms, barely noticeable, food for smaller fish. I began my quiet intrusion into a microcosm of brisk, hard-working professionals, slipping through without being given much thought, simultaneously learning with my paltry contributions. This insignificance, though quietly comforting, is perturbing; my existence has never seemed so little before. I wonder what it's like to be so busy that little people slip through the cracks of your memory; nameless and invisible. I really appreciate the little things in the office: the friendly secretary who never fails to smile and chat with me, all the tea aunties (especially the one who said I look like an actress! heehee), some of the friendlier professionals who take time out to have a chat with me, and all the help the pupils have rendered. I don't ever want to lose myself to busyness that I lose sight of Christ and His love which compels me to love others.

I think one of the things I like best about instant messaging is the archive box. It's so easy to forget nowadays. But with IM, there's hard, tangible evidence to pluck out and remember. It doesn't help that some of the best conversations, best moments I've had are in person or over the phone, and I desperately want to record it in its purest form so I have something to look back on, smile and remember. But it doesn't even seem vaguely plausible, does it? When recorded with ill-fitting words, I rather not record it at all. Because the memory sits poorly, ruining the essence. I suppose its very weakness is its strength: recorded in the heart and not made cheap by the impersonality of an interface. But, seriously, how much can my memory store? I did a 'brain test' sent by one of my fellow interns in an email yesterday which said my brain was 29 years old. So I did the test over and over until it said my brain was 24 and I couldn't be bothered anymore because 24 is somewhat young enough and less discomfitting a number.

I've bought four notebooks and three books in two days. I spent an inappropriate amount on the notebooks but I have a weakness for good-quality stationary because I always believe the type of stationary you choose and carry represents you best in an academic environment like uni. And the books were simply because I like buying crisp new books off the shelf. Something I rarely do, but when I do, there's this frisson of delight! Like buying a new shoe, or going to a theme park for the first time, or something equally new and bundled with opportunity. It's something I don't really get when I buy my books cheap off second hand book stores and I can't explain it because sometimes it is the same book. So yes, I must admit, I really can't wait to go home so I can read Shopaholic and Baby haha. Becky Bloomwood has a baby!

In other churlish news, Love in a Time of Cholera is coming out and I WON'T BE AROUND TO SEE IT. I hope they'll have it in Brissy when I get back.

I dislike myself when I get like this. I can't do this.

I still remember how I spent the new year in 2007. I ushered in the new year at church with Laura and Celene. Then we spent the rest of the night couched in the darkness of Laura's car, pigging on chicken nuggets and sharing our resolutions and allowing our smallest and saddest sides of ourselves to show. I vaguely remember slumping over in the backseat, tearing a little.

This year wasn't very different. I ushered in the new year at church with Laura and Celene and we shared our little bouts of emo-ness with each other. Then we spent the next two hours pigging out on sambal stingray and sugarcane juice. I headed to Gab's party after, where everyone was surprisingly sober. Then I went home feeling a little pinch of melancholia in my heart and the rest of the night was caught in a bad, vivid dream involving dead child ghosts only I could see, betrayal and abandonment, ending in a wild chase. I woke up disconcerted and unnerved.

The first day of the new year ran by pretty eventfully. It started with the bad dream, followed by kissing Cass goodbye at the airport, and a dinner with the extended family without my parents. And this is where the trauma starts:

I was half-asleep in the car and we pulled up on our driveway. I got out of the passenger seat and greeted a yapping Smokey who was on my left. Like a bad dream, when I turned to my right, there was a breathing black Rottweiler right next to me. I thought I was still caught in a dream when I asked Who's dog is this?!

And everything happened so fast after: Smokey barking, the Rottweiler growling, then somehow they ended up at the other side of the patio. I could vaguely hear my sister commanding me to Pick Smokey up, now! I was about to run and pick my ittle dog up when I saw the Rottweiler salivate and do the territorial walk around and my heart was thudding, sick with fear, when I saw Smokey cower and become very, very still. I could still hear my sister screaming Shumin, get Smokey!

I don't know how it happened but Smokey very fluidly spun around and ran behind me where my sister swiftly picked him up. And the Rottweiler started going to my sister, jumping up on her and foaming at the mouth. She told me to hold on to the dog, and I've never handled a Rottweiler before, especially not one that's going after my poor dog, so I grabbed it by the collar but the dog was too strong for me, and started dragging me forward and turning around to growl at me. And I very stupidly tried commanding it to Sit! and obviously it didn't listen to me.

My sister started screaming for help at the top of her lungs while I ran out of the house shouting Who's dog is this?! and thankfully the neighbours started rushing out to help us, even though no one dared handle the dog, so the Rottweiler was still excitedly trying to clamber up my sis and get Smokey. I was so relieved when the owner came running in, telling us that he was sorry but his dog ran out of the house without their knowledge. And my poor, brave sister, half in shock and relief, crouched on the floor and started sobbing. We really thought our dog was going to die, especially after our relatives were telling us about a recent case where a Rottweiler killed a family's 7 month old baby. I mean compare Smokey and the Rottweiler, Smokey stands no chance, especially since Smokey isn't very friendly towards other dogs.

What a way to start the new year! Thank God no one was hurt, especially Smokey!

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."
Hebrews 12:1-3

These verses spoke to me over the new year. It reminds me of school; sweaty track meets, the grueling ten rounds, cheers and sweet euphoria. It has shown me with accountability and encouragement, I need to throw off all hindrances and run with perseverance. And most of all, it has shown me that my Coach Jesus Christ, is not only the author but also the perfector of my faith, and I need to fix my eyes on Him always, I need to exercise my muscle of faith. I remember how I felt everytime, after I finished the ten rounds well, when my coach smiled in approval, when I felt that sweet ache stinging my limbs, and I know this is how I want to finish the race with Christ til we're in heaven :)