Phew, just submitted the 5th of the 6 assignments that I am due… and finished a rather major shoot on Friday…
I would like to take a break, catch a breath and chill out, but my mind is a fluttering mob of butterflies on steroids. Garrrrgh.
She came into the room and sat near me quietly. She does that once in a while, but tonight she was a little more persistant. She watched me quietly from her corner, curled up and just being herself. She let me pet her for a long time, purring daintily, not stirring from her zen-like peace.
I am re-writing my essay as I found myself stuck the first time round, trying to critique an article that was not sufficient for me to beef up the essay to sufficient word-count. Feeling flustered is the overwhelming emotion of the moment.
She is watching me, making sure I am doing my work, I supposed. She didn’t follow me out to the kitchen when I went to get some snacks like she usually did, but sat waiting eagerly for me in the same spot. As I settled down to type, she curled up and went to snooze on the perch beside me.
She is the wise one, I believe. The one who knows what needs to be done to get things done around here. I love her so much because she displays such intelligence beneath her creamy fur and her deep penetrating eyes.
My Latte, the supervisor.
I was named Alanis for half a year when I worked in odd part-time jobs after my O’Levels exams and was waiting to enroll in the Polytechnic.
I wished I stuck with that name though, but Alanis Morissette was really damn cool and damn hip back then and I was worried people in Poly will find me a lame wannabe. So I went back to my dialect name that nobody remembers.
Wished I was Alanis again so I don’t have to introduce myself as plain ol’ Li Tin to new people I meet =\ Alanis Ang. You know. Has a ring to it.
“Hand In My Pocket”
I’m broke but I’m happy
I’m poor but I’m kind
I’m short but I’m healthy, yeah
I’m high but I’m grounded
I’m sane but I’m overwhelmed
I’m lost but I’m hopeful baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything’s gonna be fine fine fine
’cause I’ve got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five
I feel drunk but I’m sober
I’m young and I’m underpaid
I’m tired but I’m working, yeah
I care but I’m restless
I’m here but I’m really gone
I’m wrong and I’m sorry baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything’s gonna be quite alright
’cause I’ve got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is flicking a cigarette
And what it all comes down to
Is that I haven’t got it all figured out just yet
’cause I’ve got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving the peace sign
I’m free but I’m focused
I’m green but I’m wise
I’m hard but I’m friendly baby
I’m sad but I’m laughing
I’m brave but I’m chickenshit
I’m sick but I’m pretty baby
And what it all boils down to
Is that no one’s really got it figured out just yet
’cause I’ve got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is playing the piano
And what it all comes down to my friends
Is that everything’s just fine fine fine
’cause I’ve got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is hailing a taxi cab
—
How cool is this song! Goodness.
I have not been shopping for quite a while. The last item I bought was 2 weeks ago, it’s a black shrug that I can wear with dresses and all. Of course, and to hide my arms. And before that it was a pair of shoes bought about a month ago or something.
I don’t think I shop that much, compared to other girls I believe. I don’t go to hair salons as I DIY my hair colour and trim my own hair. I don’t do manicures and pedicures. I wear t-shirts and jeans for work mostly… I have a simple skin care regime and generally is not high in maintenance.
But would that make me sloppy? I see girls with immaculate hair and nails and everything, and I think that makes me pale in comparison. I know I am married lah, but still. I still have a shred of vanity left in me hokay!!!
Anyway I am saving up for the big Europe trip, so any frivolous shopping would have to wait. No choice lor.
I love hats. I think they frame up our heads and complete an outfit, just like a pair of shoes would. The weather in Singapore just doesn’t encourage hat-wearing though, even if there are tons of guys out there with their duck-billed caps. I’ll start perspiring rather quickly once I wear a hat on a hot day for even just a short while.
But hats are so interesting. All sorts of materials and shapes and colours and all.
Don’t worry. I am not going to commit suicide. Just read an article linked off CBC’s blog and that got my mind in a whirr. I’d never want to step back there again.
You see, I was depressed to the point of having suicidal thoughts once. Not too long ago, just about 2 years back. I’d just came back from my first trip to Tokyo and was feeling just great. I also got my new car back then, it was supposed to be some kind of high times for me, really.
Then a major shoot for work came along, and I screwed up some planning bits – the shoot went on fine but it was a little haywire… and I felt really disappointed with myself. The sense of disappointment and self-loathing was so intense, I curled up and cried in bed several nights, even as he slept beside me.
He didn’t know much of it. I hid quite a bit of myself behind that “I am so busy, and am just tired” facade.
It really didn’t help that I had a performance review during that period of time when I was trying to convince myself, that the result wasn’t too bad and that the next project was going to be better. The then-manager wrote some scathing stuff on my report, even though it was mostly careless mistakes and for making too much assumptions and stuff. The result of the shoot wasn’t as fantastic as first envisioned, but it wasn’t that bad.
So for people managers, before you write that awful awful review, even though mistakes were aplenty and everything… sometimes it helps to first talk to the employee and reassure them that the report will be as factual and neutral as possible, and that it is purely for the employee’s own improvement in future and that… it’s not that bad.
The thing is, I cared too much about what others think of me. That report sent me on a downward spiral. Some colleagues came and spoke to me about it, saying that they were quite surprised that I made those noob mistakes and all. I took it very well on the surface, I did.
Did I sleep well? No. Did I eat well? I forgot. But did I feel like ending it once and for all? Oh hell, yes. I hate having to live up to the expectations of others. Some people whom I don’t even care for. But I have to live up to their expectations and when I fail, just once, after all the times I aced the hurdles thrown in my path… and now I am worthless. A stinking, worthless, lousy piece of shit.
And so, I am worthless. A worthless wife, a worthless employee, a worthless daughter… whatever it is, I felt like crap. Not the usual grumpy, I-hate-Mondays kind of crap. I really felt worthless and that there is no point in carrying on this miserable existence anymore. I hated myself. I hated life. I hated being here.
Being dead means that people will come to my funeral and wonder why I was gone, just like that. And those who did me wrong will feel guilt for the rest of their lives. Those who loved me will feel pain and loss but they will move on eventually. No one will really miss me. I didn’t think anybody would. I was just worthless, you see.
No more bills, no more stress, no more nothing. Being agnostic, I truly think that there’s probably not going to be an afterlife, no heaven with meadows and endless wine… no hell with fire and cleavers for eternity. It’s just gonna be nothing. Bam! Someone turned off the lights and there’s just going to be… nothing.
That would be just fine for me. I’ll be happier being nothing more than a speck of memory in someone’s mind. I constantly thought of death, and the various methods that I could conjure up that is possibly painless and quick. And hopefully I won’t die ugly. I thought of myself lying in a pool of my own blood in the bathroom almost all the time. How pretty. I’ll be pale and all but that’s just fine. I thought of myself lying at the bottom of the block of flats, but my father died that way and no way I am going to put my family through that again. It has to be something new.
It took me nearly half a year before I found my footing again. It’s probably the hormones wrecking havoc as I’ve just removed the Implanon implant earlier that year. I can’t be sure. Somehow I was back on track again. I was myself again. I think some of the talks with him helped, but I’m not sure what we spoke about already.
I’m just glad I have gotten out of that dark place without the help of a psychiatrist, although I have considered that option quite seriously. I asked friends who have gone through therapy on their experience, stuff like that.
Then I was ok. I picked myself out of the rut and now I am busy planning for trips, enjoying life despite the health issues, thinking of the future, studying for my degree… I somehow emerged a little stronger from this. I don’t have any real advice for anybody who is going down that same road where I had been… but please, don’t do it. The future ain’t that bleak because we ain’t dead yet.
Don’t do it. I won’t, for now. I hope. I’m ok now.
Addendum: This was the same period of time that I took over CWS. I guess having a purpose helped. I had to try make the Society work so that we didn’t have to shut it down. The distraction helped, I supposed. Or maybe I wasn’t on the brink of suicide yet, just hovering around in the initial stages for a long time… Being self-aware is a bitch. Darn it.
If love at first sight is this pretty, then I want it to happen everyday!
Truth is, it’s always lust at first sight that I seem to believe in.
Nice.
I wonder if I can psycho him to go on at least a trial lesson with me. Out of all the partner dances, Argentine Tango is the sexiest and most intimate. The others are a little more showy for my liking. Maybe with the exception of Flamenco and Paso Doble perhaps.
It’s good, isn’t it?
Grand, isn’t it?
Great, isn’t it?
Swell, isn’t it?
Fun, isn’t it?
Nowadays
There’s men, everywhere
Jazz, everywhere
Booze, everywhere
Life. everywhere
Joy, everywhere
Nowadays
You can like the life you’re livin’
You can live the life you like
You can even marry Harry
But mess around with Ike
And that’s
Good, isn’t it?
Grand, isn’t it?
Great, isn’t it?
Swell, isn’t it?
Fun, isn’t it…
But nothin’… stays…
—–
One of these days I’m gonna go watch Chicago again. Fantastic songs, fantastic choreography, acting, directing, camera angles and editing.
Santorini (Thira, its local name)
From the initial Italy-only trip, it became an Italy-France trip. Then as the number of days we are planning to roam Europe increased to a month or so, it became a Greece-Italy-France trip. Then I want to end the trip at London.
Am I asking for too much? Hurhurhurhur.
My must-see sights (in every touristy and cheesy sense of it):
Santorini (Greece)
Sistine Chapel (Rome)
Effiel Tower (Paris)
Tower Bridge (London)
Ya. So bite me.