What's wrong with you?

Time: This morning

I'm bursting with joy inside (those who read my other blog http://cartoonlagoonjoy.blogspot.com will know why) and I'm driving to work early. I see this 'regular' lady flagging me down. She works near my office. Now, this is how I've always felt about this person. She only talks to me when she needs a lift from me. At other times, I'm seemingly transparent and she doesn't even bother to acknowledge me when we bump into each other during lunch time. But I've continued to give her a ride whenever she flags me down because well, it's on my way anyway. I usually just let her blabber on with her mundane small talk. I'm not much of a morning person so I actually treasure my alone time in the drive to work every day.

So anyway, she asks me why every time she sees me, I'm putting on MORE and MORE (her voice really emphasised this!) weight. Then she asks me loudly, 'WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???!!!'
Calmly, I carry on driving and tell her there's nothing wrong with me; I'm just not into this whole dieting thing.

She then refers me to her colleague (whom I know very well) and if I have seen how she has become so slim and delicate lately. Yes, she omits to mention that this colleague of hers is on a perpetual diet; diet pills, diet shakes, miracle creams, surgery.... you name it, she's done it. Nothing wrong with that if she's happy with the process. But I'm not in the mood to correct my lady hitch-hiker. Nor do I feel I owe her any explanation about having PCOS.

I am by now slightly irritated with this person but I bite my tongue. This person is first, trying to undermine my confidence in myself and secondly trying to stir envy in me for another person.
Yes, I wish I were not overweight. I wish I have not put on 10 kgs in the last 5 years. But I have. I have not eaten any differently from 5 years ago. No bigger portions. No smaller portions either. I have my healthy portions of meat, veg and carbs every day and I think I'm still relatively healthy. I am focusing on my spiritual recovery.

Do I sound like a case of sour grapes? Well, sure beats living on grape fruit if you ask me.

Life In The Spirit Seminar

To my Christ believing friends and to others who are curious, I really hope that you can find time in your lives to attend the Life In The Spirit Seminar at your church or at a church near you. It is a life-changing experience. Non-baptised Catholics are also welcome to join.

I am documenting Mike's and my journey over at my other blog:

http://cartoonlagoonjoy.blogspot.com

My other blog Cartoon Lagoon Joy

Lately, I've been preoccupied with updating my other blog Cartoon Lagoon Joy.

We can never separate God's purpose from our lives or work but because I understand that my readers come from all religions, I've decided to be more respectful of their feelings and to start a separate blog for such updates instead.

If you're interested to read about our very human and joyous journey with God, then you can visit us over at:

http://cartoonlagoonjoy.blogspot.com/

(Addendum 2011: Sorry, I've since deleted my other blog)

Couple Reunited after 17 years

It was reported by AFP (Agence France-Presse, the oldest news agency in the world) that a couple got married last week after a 17 year separation. The couple claimed that despite the separation, they fell instantly in love with each other again when they reunited for the first time.

My first reaction was one of awe. How cool is that? What a great love story? Next, you'll be seeing the movie rights to their story being sold! A typical Nicholas Sparks storyline.

They fell in love in England when they were 25, got engaged and somehow, because she'd moved to France, lost contact with each other. The guy had written to her again a few years later but that letter had fallen behind the fireplace and was not found till renovation work to the fireplace was carried out.

In a cliched fairy tale ending, the couple finally gets married and well, I hope they get to live happily ever after.

However, thinking about it, I wonder if they know what they are getting themselves into? 17 years apart; that's a really long time. A female can grow moustache hair and hairy legs in that period. A man can become well, unman.

They were engaged! How does one lose one's fiance / fiancee for goodness sake? We're not talking about some third world country. We're talking about England and France. 17 years back would take us to 1992. Granted the whole internet explosion had not quite propelled into our faces yet but had they not heard of the telephone? Fact is, guy writes letter after several years. Wow, actually took him that long to notice his fiancee had gone missing. He gets no reply. What does he do? Nothing. He had the address right? Unbelievable.

Not enough effort put in those years back if you ask me. Oh, I don't doubt their attraction to each other remains but let's hope it's enough to see them through another 17 years.

Problem with blogger posting page layout

I tried to blog yesterday and the layout on the 'posting page' went all haywire. Highly frustrated, I ran anti-virus and spyware to try to eradicate what I thought was a trojan screwing up my computer settings. Turns out, I had to tweak my Internet Options settings instead. No thanks to Singnet I believe.


IE users, if you are facing the same problems, you can try this :


Go to
TOOLS
INTERNET OPTIONS
CONNECTIONS
LAN SETTINGS
Tick "USE A PROXY SERVER FOR LAN"
ADVANCE
Http --> (for proxy address) "PROXY.SINGNET.COM.SG"
(for port) "8080"



Yes, it worked for me but I'm thinking, why should I be tweaking my settings to suit Singnet? Do I have to do this for every computer I'm going to be blogging from? It's been working fine for years and suddenly this happens!!!


I have both Singnet and Starhub's Maxonline for home and Singnet at the office. Coincidentally, the office has to decide if we wish to recontract with Singnet. What other choice is there really?

Another Blog from Cartoon Lagoon

I've started another blog.
It's about us as mere mortals and our journey with God.

http://cartoonlagoonjoy.blogspot.com/

I am just as naughty as ever but that doesn't mean I don't have a relationship with God. He just has been very patient with me. There is hope yet!

Breastfeeding Article By Rachel-Heng Walters

Warning: If for some unfathomable reason, you're uncomfortable about breastfeeding, don't read further.

If you're not squirmy about this very natural act (Yay!), then carry on reading my blog.

Go read this article on breastfeeding!

http://www.family.sg/HEALTH/2009/07/14/en-us/0000169/article.aspx

It's written by my cousin, Rachel, who resides in Canberra, Australia. She's the editor of Australian Breastfeeding Association’s national magazine. Great info!

If only information had been so readily available to me as a young mother. Although breastfeeding a baby is a thing of the past for me now (I'm a mother of two teenagers), I still recall vividly trying to cope with my engorged boobs, stinging nipples and the sometimes feverish bouts of pain. On top of this, trying to cope with the pain from a recovering C-section surgery.

Breastfeeding didn't go down well with my firstborn. She'd shut her mouth up and pout till her whole face turned red. I even recall her pushing her tiny palm against my breast as if to tell me to give it up! Straight after delivery, the nurses at the hospital had asked me if I wanted to breastfeed or formula feed my baby at night and being a young mother in what I would describe as suffering from shock at the pain post-surgery, I opted for formula. I suppose after tasting formula at night, my baby just didn't dig breast milk in the day. Looking back, I realise that choice had been a mistake on my part.

Having said that, after our discharge, I still tried my best to breastfeed her full-time. She'd cry. I'd cry (you know how emotional one can get after giving birth!). Especially to the slightest comment that I wasn't producing enough for the baby.

Baby refusing to feed + engorged breasts + hurtful comments + surgical pain = giving up.

Sadly, I gave in to the bottle after a few weeks and she became a happy baby.
Was I a failure? I didn't think so at that time. She was happy to have Daddy feed her. Mummy was happy Daddy could feed her.
I still had my bursting boobs to contend with though. Finally when the leaking wouldn't stop (who said I didn't have enough milk?) the doc prescribed Parlodel for me. I popped just ONE and fainted a few hours later while in the toilet and again the next morning whilst getting out of bed. I mean, really collapsed. Blacked out. My boobs also dried up immediately after that single pill. I personally wouldn't recommend taking Parlodel to anyone. Apparently, it had an adverse effect on my blood pressure. If you can, please bear with the pain and let the milk supply run its course.

With my second child, the C-section pain was expected and the boy just latched on to my boob like a pro from the word go. Just as it had happened with my daughter, in the beginning, it was hilarious how milk would start squirting from one boob while I was feeding my baby on the other. At times, I'd be yelling at Mike, 'Mike! Bottle!' and he'd come running with an empty milk bottle to place it on the unutilised boob just so the milk from this Mama Cow didn't go to waste!
The lil bub would drink and drink and drink. Even through the night. I was tired but I perservered. I felt 'rewarded' each time the womb contracted whilst he fed. Convinced myself it was helping my tummy get back in shape (which it did).

My saddest regret was to not have taken a longer time off to spend with my baby. I had to get back to work just after the standard maternity leave ran out. A week before it ended, I started introducing the bottle to him. He refused. We went out and bought different shaped nipples and finally he was more accepting of the NUK brand.

I had to contend with leaking breasts (used a motherload of breast pads) at work because I didn't find the schedule nor place convenient to express my milk (I was a school teacher).
In the evenings, back from work, I'd pump out my milk and keep a couple of bottles in the fridge and these would be for his daytime supply. (Oh, the comments that I may not have been producing enough milk still came, until the bottles of milk were spotted in the fridge!).

It was heart wrenching the first few days because I'd come home and my domestic helper would tell me my son had refused the bottle the whole day. I'd put him on the breast and he'd suckle like mad. After about a week of putting the bottle to him in the day, he took to it. It was still breastmilk and we'd not introduced formula to him yet. In the nights, he'd sleep beside me and he'd suckle through the night. This routine continued for 6 months. Not a long time but at least we tried. Was I a failure? I'm not sure. I feel I should have tried harder with my girl and I should have fed longer with my son. I should have done better. It's what mums do isn't it? Beat themselves up.

Cosfest VIII - A Happy Event ( @ Downtown East)

I know next to nothing about Cosplay (simply defined; dressing up as a Japanese Anime character) but I am definitely intrigued by the commitment of the 'players'.


By chance, we were at Downtown East, Pasir Ris http://www.downtowneast.com.sg/

yesterday and the first inkling that something was up was when we saw a load of Japanese Anime characters getting off a car, coloured wigs and spendid costumes in tow. They were erm, headed for Burger King.

We sat munching on our dripping Subways and observed that they were swarming everywhere. That's when we realised that there was a Cosplay event on. It was Cosfest VIII. http://www.cosfest.com/Cosfest.htm

I knew there would be something interesting ahead when I'd lugged my camera along that morning! First off, I need to ask for the forgiveness of all serious Cosplayers. Please excuse me for the tongue-in-cheek write-up to come. This aunty has no knowledge of what these are called or which anime these characters hail from. I do realise the time and effort these people have put in (also the money spent) and I respect that this is a serious artform. But it's a Monday and we could all do with a light read. Enjoy!

My daughter could only shake her head in despair when I called this a mutant Pikachu.

What?! Don't you agree? Doesn't it look like an anorexic Pikachu? A bit out of sync with the local weather if you ask me. Would rather have chosen to be a bikini-clad anime character, if you ask me (again).

Maybe this is Sailor Moon with a hair dye gone bad.

Her eyes! This girl on the left had such mesmerizing eyes! It was no wonder that she was a photographer's favourite even if her costume seemed one of the simplest around.

Erm...what's with the star?





















Lolitas in all shapes and sizes. There is hope yet for me.
















Modern day knights or pest-busters?




(Below pic) Star Wars of a different kind.




Handsome Trio!

Symptoms of Inner Peace

Many of you might have received the below poem in an email which was making its rounds some years ago. It had struck a chord with me and I had it pasted near my office table till it fell off the board this morning from ageing sticky tape!

The author is said to be Saskia Davis. She had written this in 1983, while serving as the Director for the Northwest Center for Attitudinal Healing, an organization founded on the principles of Inner Peace.

Symptoms of Inner Peace

An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.

A tendency to think and act spontaneously, rather than on fears based on past experiences.

A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others and judging other people.

A loss of interest in conflict.

A loss of the ability to worry.

Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.

Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.

Frequent attacks of smiling.

An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saskia says:

"as the author of the Symptoms of Inner Peace, I want to say that it has been my experience that there are times in some of our lives when we are growing spiritually, and things can feel out of control, even good things like Inner Peace. At those times, I have found there are a few things that are helpful:

(1) To find someone to walk with, metaphorically speaking, someone who can either relate to what you are going through, or if not, at least someone who will not judge you in a negative way or develop fear. This might be a friend or a spiritual teacher or even a spiritually oriented therapist, someone whose path you respect.

(2) Another thing that is really essential is physical work. Work helps us to ground our new experience of self in the physical world.

(3) And, finally, a sense of curiosity and patience is required, because when we are in the middle of transformation, sometimes it is pretty difficult to see who we are becoming; and it takes a while before it all begins to make sense. Meantime, curiosity can help keep us out of fear and judgement against ourselves."

(Credit: Saskia comments from http://dreamunit.net/blog-en/?p=36 )

More love letters from Michael

After yesterday's post, I was so sure the other 'love letter' from Mike had been of the song lyrics from Lionel Richie's 'Lady'. Sshh....don't tell him this but I can't find it. The good news is I did find two others instead. How cool is that?


Let me backtrack.... after staying up till 4 am to watch CNN's Michael Jackson's memorial service at Staples Centre the night before and then having to go to work shortly after, I came back home last evening in a daze (yes, I'm a night bird who can sleep late but who needs to wake up late too).


Barely making it through dinner, I forced myself to catch the local production, 'Red Thread' (if only to listen to the poor diction of some Chinese channel crossover actors) partly due to the subliminal advertisements urging us to 'catch the season finale of Red Thread' and I've got to admit, partly due to some stellar acting. Anyhow, I could hardly keep my eyes open through Red Thread and finally fell into deep stupor on the living room couch. Apparently, Mike (who had also stayed up late the night before, to catch MJ's memorial service) had also fallen asleep concurrently in our bedroom with his PSP still running.


So anyhow (what the heck am I getting at? oh yes, I was talking about the love letters), I woke up feeling so refreshed at 10.30pm and pleasantly surprised to find No.1 and No. 2 (that's what I call my kids sometimes) quietly doing their own thing in their respective rooms. You've got to realise that as a full-time working mum, this is hard to come by. They're usually surrounding me with their antics right up till past midnight. I've really got to start falling asleep on the couch more often in the evenings. This should send them packing into their rooms earlier.

With hubby snoring away, I snuck into the bathroom for some overdue ME time. That meant slathering on a tub of cheapo Watson's hair conditioning cream and wrapping it up with an old Genting hotel disposable shower cap (Yes, this aunty here doesn't care that it's called disposable for a reason. I'm one of those who will bring back all those tiny bottles of shampoos from hotels. Why throw when it's still useable? Am I saving the world in my own way, then?).


Anyhow, I cover my face with a nice green mud mask, touted to keep my face supple and sit on the loo to read a gossip magazine. Forty-five minutes and a nice bath later, I suddenly have the urge to pull out a big rectangular storage tub from under our bed.

Hey Presto! What do I find? Amongst the usual 'I-don't-need-but-can't-bear-to-throw' stuff, I find a nice Burberry make-up pouch filled with old receipts (from 1999 and with the ink still intact - isn't that hard to come by nowadays?), photos and of course (finally, the end of my story) the lover letters from my dear, Michael.


So here they are:

"Truly from Lionel Richie"

and Janet Jackson's "Let's Wait Awhile"

Janet Jackson's "Let's Wait Awhile", not to be confused with telling me to cool off but he'd written that to me because we had to be apart for a while. We'd bought the cassette tape with this song at a Pasar Malam (night market) the night before he was due to leave the country and while he was away, I just played it over and over and over. It became one of our favourite songs.

You will notice on the top of the letter, he referred to me as 'Maknenek' (a.k.a 'kaypoh' / busybody). Who isn't? Anyhow, I referred to him as 'O.G.O' (Oh Grumpy One). Who isn't? We've stopped calling each other that for years now though. There's a nice fuzzy feeling when I see these letters again. It reminds me of why I married him.

Michael Jackson - Love Letter

Nah! It's not a love letter from Michael Jackson. It's a 'love letter' written to me by my very own Michael, in the 80's. Notice the folds of the ageing paper? Even the way Mike folded it was darn 'stylo mylo' lah (stylish).

It's the lyrics of 'The Lady in My Life' from MJ's Thriller Album. Mike loves singing and I've been told he's got a pretty good voice and we loved Michael Jackson together.

MJ's Thriller album was the rage then and it was light years ahead of competition. People stayed home just to catch the premier of his videos. Our home copied videos circulated no end (in fact, that was how Mike and I ended up together eventually) and our home copied cassette tapes were played and rewound until the tapes snapped. Apart from scaring apeshit out of me with his rendition of Thriller (whilst prancing and moonwalking around me in circles) along dark Edgware Road in Seletar Camp one night, Mike would croon the ballads into my ear.
Being one of those teenage idols, Mike even 'invested' in a pair of expensive, glossy, what he called, 'Michael Jackson shoes' from C.K. Tang! It really seems like only yesterday and I remember those days of Michael Jackson's music playing at our weekend 'functions' (parties) so clearly. Yet, it's not yesterday anymore and Michael Jackson (Bless His Soul) is no more.

Anyway, I digress. Mike's always said he's not good at expressing himself (yah, that's why I'm the one blogging) and he'd given me two such letters; copying song lyrics by hand. I believe the other song is 'Lady' by Lionel Richie.

It stirred my heart no end in the past. I still think it's sweet because ahem...such letters have become a thing of the past after nearly 2 decades of marriage!!! To be fair to him, he did sing it again (to me, he said) last night when it was shown on cable's MTV channel. Though I'm trying (it's difficult) to place less importance on physical ownership of items, I'll always treasure these letters. Simply priceless! Love you, Michael (and Michael).

Michael Jackson - This is it

When I lost a loved one recently, people around me were very comforting and understanding. They all knew what it was like to lose someone close, someone you imagined would be around forever. They rallied around and gave their hugs and condolences. It helped lots.

But Michael Jackson; I couldn't even count him as a mere acquaintance, much less a friend. The nearest I got to him was at his concert in Singapore at the National Stadium in 1993 and even then, the distance that separated us was laughable. Yet, I join millions of other people around this globe who can't quite get over the shock of his death. What to make of this loss? Why now? Why not after his series of comeback concerts? Why? Why? Why?
The answer is apparent. Michael Jackson, though undoubtedly proclaimed by earthlings as the "King of Pop", is a mere human. We're all equal, you and I. We're only human.

I do not need to state the obvious. The memorial service at Staples Centre said it all. You and I know his name will be etched in history for time in memorial. There will never be another like him.
Sold out concerts. What could have been. What a waste.
Sigh. I have to say, 'Sway, lah!' (bad luck!) Calling your concert 'This is it'.
Couldn't have been more accurate. Well, though this is the end of the road, it's only an earthly path. Bigger things are in store for MJ and bigger things are in store for us.

For a short while, the earth comes together to mourn the loss of Michael Joseph Jackson; what he has done and what he could have done. For a short while, the world comes together. If only for that single moment, then Michael Jackson has not lived in vain.

Whilst we mourn, let's not forget, that even Michael Jackson could not bring his beloved glove along with him.

Are you pregnant?

It's a Monday evening, I've just come back from work and I've got 15 mins to take a shower and eat my dinner because we're due to attend a supposedly life-changing seminar.
Once out of an office-do, I opt for comfort. I squeeze into my 3 year old denim knee-length cut-offs with an imprint of vintage Mickey Mouse and an old but comfortable T-shirt. I do look at the loosening collar of the T and wonder if it's going to be rude turning up in that.

Hubby: Are you wearing that?

ME: Erm...yah, I think I shouldn't wear this old T too.
(I fling open the wardrobe and pull out a white blouse I've never worn since buying it 3 months ago. It's white, loose, billowy and just about long enough to cover my tummy)

Hubby: WHAT type of fashion is that?

ME: (gulping down food) Aiyah! Never wear before what! Don't care, lah. No time already.
(Son stares at blouse, shakes his head and chuckles)

We go to the seminar. 3 hours later, finish it off with food and chat with friends.

Friend: Eh, (points to my tummy area) by the way, are you pregnant?



Yep, guess that's another outfit headed for the Salvation Army.

Weighty issues with weightless people

Happy Youth Day!

I don't wish to be a youth again but I do miss my 24cm (oops, I mean inches) waistline and 44 kg marking on the weighing scale! Not that I don't love myself (I do love myself to bits, jiggly fats and all and I thank God everyday that I am still alive and kicking!) but if only to shut some people up.

I'm trying not to be obsessed about my weight issues but looking for healthy and reasonable ways to lose some weight as I am fully aware that the excess baggage is detrimental to my health. But it's hard not to think about it since I've been reminded of my excess weight 3 times just last week. Sigh.

#1 Someone close tells someone closer that I've put on a lot of weight. Oh gee thanks! I really needed someone to point that out to me. Why didn't I realise this before?

#2 A stranger (shopping beside me) tells me that an outfit is nice and I should buy it. I said no, the design was not to my liking. That someone says I should because it's very nice and it would fit me. I decline politely again. She says she would buy it for herself if she could but it was way too big for her. However, she insists, it would fit 'my size'. That outfit was a size 'M'. That stranger was really scrawny looking. Guess she meant well but it also meant that I've been firmly promoted to a full-fledged fatty.

#3 An acquaintance (whom I find boastful and whom I try to avoid) tells someone he had mistaken someone else for me. When he realises his mistake, he agrees (loudly) that it could not have been because, he says (to me), 'Oh, cannot be, unless she has lost a lot of weight'.


Uh-huh. So there really are plenty of people concerned about my not looking as thin as before (or worse still, thin like them) more than I am concerned about myself.
Funny, I am more concerned about my spiritual growth as a human.

I'm not really rattled nor do I feel hurt that they say such things. I'm more amused, actually and an incy wincy bit irritated. Ok, I lie. I'm very irritated.

So, I am fat. Aiyoh, you may be thinner than me (yadah, yadah, yadah, whatever) but what the heck does it all mean? I'm confident of myself the way I am and though I prefer to keep mum about intimate details, I've been told I'm still sexy (yes! unbelievable but true!). This is a shallow knee-jerk retort on my part but can you look at yourself in the mirror and love yourself? So there! Eat your thin hearts out! I've got better things to do. (But first, my shallow self has to go admire and appreciate my fuller boobs now that I'm a full-fledged fatty. Yep, the silver lining; bigger boobs come with the territory).