MUSIC CALMS YOUR SOUL.
Tears In Heaven
Right Here Waiting
More Than Words
The Rose
♥ www.SunghaJung.com
I could listen to him all day.
Friday
80. Beethoven reincarnate.
79. Unexpected.
THERE'S A MOMENT IN TIME AND IT'S STUCK IN MY MIND.
I woke up feeling under the weather and sluggish. Walking out of the lift and seeing you wait by the road with your bike really lifted my spirit. Thanks for the extra trip down to the shop, this time with my packed lunch and Horlicks McFlurry.
Work's slow and unchallenging, so I have only the memories of your earlier visit and the lingering taste of sweet, malty and salty Horlicks in my mouth, accompanied by songs from the 80s - 90s on the radio. Hmmm... Friday can't get any better once the churning in my stomach stops.
I woke up feeling under the weather and sluggish. Walking out of the lift and seeing you wait by the road with your bike really lifted my spirit. Thanks for the extra trip down to the shop, this time with my packed lunch and Horlicks McFlurry.
Work's slow and unchallenging, so I have only the memories of your earlier visit and the lingering taste of sweet, malty and salty Horlicks in my mouth, accompanied by songs from the 80s - 90s on the radio. Hmmm... Friday can't get any better once the churning in my stomach stops.
Thursday
78. Tsamina mina zangalewa, this time for reflection.
FOREVER YOUNG, I WANNA BE FOREVER YOUNG.
"It's now 8:03 pm."
I feel like going Africa just listening to this song.
-
I'm surprised at my eagerness to talk about my day and the frequency of my blogging too. It's a good thing I guess, all these thoughts has to go somewhere, there's only this much my mind can contain.
Two weeks in Garde Manger flew by in a blink of an eye then it's onto another kitchen for us next week. Maybe it's too soon to say but it's a safe bet to say that Garde Manger might be, could be, HAS GOT TO BE the best kitchen to be in, out of all 5 kitchens. Gbye Garde Manger, Hello Top Table.
The past week has been all about kitchen boot camp (duh) and rushing of 500 word essay and entrepreneurship assignment; which resulted in an ongoing debate (with myself) about my choice of study and possibly my career in the hospitality, Food & Beverage industry, as well as my dream of running a small cafe. One component of the assignment was to work out the business start up cost and the figures I drew up scared me. I am, after all, a self-proclaimed numerophobic.
There have been other routes to take but stubborn as I am (plus the opportunity to continue studying was too great to turn down), I chose to press on. I'm not regretting my decision but I'm just so worn out sometimes, I feel like throwing in the towel, especially when the fear of a "better tomorrow" that I'm working towards never coming creeps up on me.
I have dreams and when I dream, I dream BIG. I'm not content with letting my dreams drag on year after year and remain as 'just dreams'. So I push myself to work hard in hope of turning my dreams into reality and that means high expectation of myself and high expectation means higher chance of suffering a disappointment or disappointment(s).
On days like this, I just want the affirmation that I'm doing fine.
Like this, "This is definitely feasible."
Thank you. (:
Wednesday
77. There's much to look forward to.
FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE.
...cos it's a PUBLIC HOLIDAY, I can finally not wake up at 5:30 am.
Following that, there's a long-awaited 2 weeks break the week after next. Thank God for small favors, and a doting boyfriend, too.
All I did was made a passing remark that it would be nice to have a folder in which I can keep all my recipes in order and poof! Houdini appeared at my workplace a day after with a personalized folder. What more can I say?
...cos it's a PUBLIC HOLIDAY, I can finally not wake up at 5:30 am.
Following that, there's a long-awaited 2 weeks break the week after next. Thank God for small favors, and a doting boyfriend, too.
All I did was made a passing remark that it would be nice to have a folder in which I can keep all my recipes in order and poof! Houdini appeared at my workplace a day after with a personalized folder. What more can I say?
Sunday
76. Draw yourself a map.
THE ONLY THING CONSTANT IS CHANGE.
"It's hard to watch people change right in front of you..but the worst part is remembering who they used to be."
That above applies for two people in my life. But I'm done talking about the other.
Today it's Nic.
Hey you pugzywugzy:
I feel sad whenever I see you not smiling the way you used to. It wrenches my heart out when I read those entries of yours that spills with heartbreaking sadness and honesty that you're too proud to let the rest of the world know. It strucked me most when I read the entry you wrote about Junda and I, urging us not to quarrel and to cherish what we have and how anger poisons and clouds our ability to make sensible decisions. And because I've always been your unofficial "guardian", I feel a teeny weeny bit guilty when I am out enjoying being in love while you mopped around the house out of love.
Almost everyday without fail, I spot a bit of sadness and longing in your eyes and much as I want to offer you the world, I know nothing I can give will fill the gaping void in your heart. I was telling Junda about your current state and the metaphor I gave was that you have lost your anchor, which is why you're floating around without an aim now. And he surprised me with a totally different point of view. He said, "She has just been RID OF the anchor, which means she's free to move on now and needs to draw herself a map."
Come to think of it, it makes perfect sense. I guess that's what a partner and being in a relationship has been for you - An anchor. Says who do we need to be anchored down? It gives us a temporary feeling of "safe haven" but it leads us nowhere. So what you really need to do is get your "bearings" right, get used to this sudden found freedom, draw yourself a map and sail away from this depressing chapter of your life. Just like how you're a captain of your own ship, you're the one responsible for your own happiness.
Stop beating yourself up, stop clinging unto the ghost of a 'it could have worked out' relationship. The world would say "It wasn't worth it" but its worth and value can only be measured by how it made you a better person and how much you learnt from it. If She chose to embark on her journey of self-development during her relationship with you, then her value of this relationship must have been real high. And if this relationship wizened you up and made you grow up, then perhaps the world will start to see that it was worthwhile after all.
"It's hard to watch people change right in front of you..but the worst part is remembering who they used to be."
That above applies for two people in my life. But I'm done talking about the other.
Today it's Nic.
Hey you pugzywugzy:
I feel sad whenever I see you not smiling the way you used to. It wrenches my heart out when I read those entries of yours that spills with heartbreaking sadness and honesty that you're too proud to let the rest of the world know. It strucked me most when I read the entry you wrote about Junda and I, urging us not to quarrel and to cherish what we have and how anger poisons and clouds our ability to make sensible decisions. And because I've always been your unofficial "guardian", I feel a teeny weeny bit guilty when I am out enjoying being in love while you mopped around the house out of love.
Almost everyday without fail, I spot a bit of sadness and longing in your eyes and much as I want to offer you the world, I know nothing I can give will fill the gaping void in your heart. I was telling Junda about your current state and the metaphor I gave was that you have lost your anchor, which is why you're floating around without an aim now. And he surprised me with a totally different point of view. He said, "She has just been RID OF the anchor, which means she's free to move on now and needs to draw herself a map."
Come to think of it, it makes perfect sense. I guess that's what a partner and being in a relationship has been for you - An anchor. Says who do we need to be anchored down? It gives us a temporary feeling of "safe haven" but it leads us nowhere. So what you really need to do is get your "bearings" right, get used to this sudden found freedom, draw yourself a map and sail away from this depressing chapter of your life. Just like how you're a captain of your own ship, you're the one responsible for your own happiness.
Stop beating yourself up, stop clinging unto the ghost of a 'it could have worked out' relationship. The world would say "It wasn't worth it" but its worth and value can only be measured by how it made you a better person and how much you learnt from it. If She chose to embark on her journey of self-development during her relationship with you, then her value of this relationship must have been real high. And if this relationship wizened you up and made you grow up, then perhaps the world will start to see that it was worthwhile after all.
Thursday
75. Putting a rein on that swinging mood.
COS YOU HAD A BAD DAY.
We all have bad days; days when we just don't feel like talking, smiling, being happy. For us girls, we attribute it to our monthly 'Pre-menstrual symptoms'. For the rest of the human kind, we call it the 'Moodswings'. Though moodswings are inevitable and ok from time to time, it crosses the line of being ok when it affects everyone you come within 2 metre-radius contact with.
For me, it was the accumulated lack of sleep, endless to-do list AND PMS which resulted in me feeling totally rotten the whole of last week. Not only was I easily irritable, I was an emotional wreck and almost nothing pleases me, not even the weekend that was jammed-packed with exciting events. Looking back, I must've been a company from hell and poor, poor boyfriend had to suck it up and take everything in.
We all have bad days; days when we just don't feel like talking, smiling, being happy. For us girls, we attribute it to our monthly 'Pre-menstrual symptoms'. For the rest of the human kind, we call it the 'Moodswings'. Though moodswings are inevitable and ok from time to time, it crosses the line of being ok when it affects everyone you come within 2 metre-radius contact with.
For me, it was the accumulated lack of sleep, endless to-do list AND PMS which resulted in me feeling totally rotten the whole of last week. Not only was I easily irritable, I was an emotional wreck and almost nothing pleases me, not even the weekend that was jammed-packed with exciting events. Looking back, I must've been a company from hell and poor, poor boyfriend had to suck it up and take everything in.
This week started off on a slower pace considering that I took days off to clear my sleep debts (notice this word surfaces from time to time) and not having to work means I get to come home earlier, which means I get to sleep earlier, which then means I wake up to the world a happier and less grumpy person!
So as the title of this entry suggests, 'Putting a rein on that swinging mood' and donning on what I call the 'Happy Glasses' (I just really like this picture so I'm clearly finding ways to insinuate it into the entry).
Mid-year resolution: To take things a little more lightly and not be such a grouchy, snappy bitch and hard-to-please girlfriend.
Thank you for bearing with me. (:
-
Overdue Pictures to welcome the weekend:
This Saturday's must-have:
Alright! 500 word essay awaits me, so is the weekend!
Edit: The 'anal' in me is kicking in. I feel like kicking blogger if it was something tangible now cos the font, ohgod, the FONT!!! WHY IS IT SO SMALL and no matter how I look at it, doesn't look at all like all the previous entries?! (Takes a couple of deep breathes)
74. This is my best explanation.
I'M TOO TIRED TO FEED YOUR NEED.
I always begin my entries with a little quote or some line from a song. It acts sort of like a pre-cursor to the entry if it's somewhat related to it or totally random and unrelated to the entry itself. And today, while I waited for the usual 'brainfart' to kick start my entry, that came to mind.
As my fingers did a hopscotch across the keyboard (seriously, they do cos I type with both my index, only), I watch the words that materialize across the screen and form the foreboding sentence. Only then did I allow myself to admit that this thought has been on my mind for most of the time I am conscious.
It is always 'I' who wasn't there for you, 'I' who neglected you, 'I' who wasn't there to nurse your heartbreak, 'I' who left you lonely, 'I' who shoulders the blame and take on the patchwork-repair of our friendship.
I don't even want to start asking, "What about you?"
'I' am NOT ok. 'I' have overestimated my tolerance level and 'I' am weak and exhausted and it's time to admit that I need to give up this act of pretence. The pretence that things are good, or will get BETTER, the pretence that not a single thread of our patchwork friendship is out of place. The truth is ugly and the truth is, everything is unravelling, everything is bursting at the seams.
I'm feeling the strain. The strain of having my feet in a pair of shoes that I grew up wearing and loved that doesn't fit anymore. It's painfully plain and straightforward - both the wearer and the shoe feels the strain and one or the other will call it quits one day.
We've changed. You love to bask in the company of friends whereas I now seek solace in solitude and rejoice when I could snooze for an extra 3 minutes without missing the morning bus. You reminisce the times we talk every night. Truth is I hardly talk on the phone to ANYONE and when I do, I end up spitting fire at my boyfriend because I'm too tired.
You talk about vulnerability of friendships but has it occurred to you that I am human and feel vulnerable too? You make me feel like I have the responsibility to fill up all the empty pockets in your timeslot, that I have to give you priority slot of my time - how can I do so when I hardly have time for myself? You then attribute it to the presence of a partner in my life. If I may summon a witness in this "court and jury", I would put my boyfriend on the stand and make him declare how much of my time he has and during the measly time, how much cheerlessness, disquietude and angst he had to put up with.
You feel the strain of not having me around. I feel the strain of being constantly needed by you and the strain of feeling 'indebted' when you complain I'm never there.
I'm way below the expectation you have set for me. To meet it I need to give up all that I have meticulously calculated and allocated time for and I don't have it in me to watch the world I carefully built crumble.
I explained to you before and I thought you understood. There is no such thing as a 'flawless' person. This is the best I can give you. I'm sorry I don't have time to be the bestfriend you want me to be.
I always begin my entries with a little quote or some line from a song. It acts sort of like a pre-cursor to the entry if it's somewhat related to it or totally random and unrelated to the entry itself. And today, while I waited for the usual 'brainfart' to kick start my entry, that came to mind.
As my fingers did a hopscotch across the keyboard (seriously, they do cos I type with both my index, only), I watch the words that materialize across the screen and form the foreboding sentence. Only then did I allow myself to admit that this thought has been on my mind for most of the time I am conscious.
It is always 'I' who wasn't there for you, 'I' who neglected you, 'I' who wasn't there to nurse your heartbreak, 'I' who left you lonely, 'I' who shoulders the blame and take on the patchwork-repair of our friendship.
I don't even want to start asking, "What about you?"
'I' am NOT ok. 'I' have overestimated my tolerance level and 'I' am weak and exhausted and it's time to admit that I need to give up this act of pretence. The pretence that things are good, or will get BETTER, the pretence that not a single thread of our patchwork friendship is out of place. The truth is ugly and the truth is, everything is unravelling, everything is bursting at the seams.
I'm feeling the strain. The strain of having my feet in a pair of shoes that I grew up wearing and loved that doesn't fit anymore. It's painfully plain and straightforward - both the wearer and the shoe feels the strain and one or the other will call it quits one day.
We've changed. You love to bask in the company of friends whereas I now seek solace in solitude and rejoice when I could snooze for an extra 3 minutes without missing the morning bus. You reminisce the times we talk every night. Truth is I hardly talk on the phone to ANYONE and when I do, I end up spitting fire at my boyfriend because I'm too tired.
You talk about vulnerability of friendships but has it occurred to you that I am human and feel vulnerable too? You make me feel like I have the responsibility to fill up all the empty pockets in your timeslot, that I have to give you priority slot of my time - how can I do so when I hardly have time for myself? You then attribute it to the presence of a partner in my life. If I may summon a witness in this "court and jury", I would put my boyfriend on the stand and make him declare how much of my time he has and during the measly time, how much cheerlessness, disquietude and angst he had to put up with.
You feel the strain of not having me around. I feel the strain of being constantly needed by you and the strain of feeling 'indebted' when you complain I'm never there.
I'm way below the expectation you have set for me. To meet it I need to give up all that I have meticulously calculated and allocated time for and I don't have it in me to watch the world I carefully built crumble.
I explained to you before and I thought you understood. There is no such thing as a 'flawless' person. This is the best I can give you. I'm sorry I don't have time to be the bestfriend you want me to be.
Friday
73. Late for late call.
WE'RE ALL ADDICTED TO PERFECTION,
CRITICS OF OUR CREATIONS.
I mentioned few posts earlier that I now have to re-adjust my body clock to conform to my new culinary practicum aka "bootcamp" hours: 10pm Bedtime / 5:30am Wake-up call.
Have I succeeded? Hmm..uh..eh.. More or less.
Am I enjoying it or growing to like it a teeny weeny bit? NOOO.
However, up till yesterday, I actually did fine and was never, (was close) but NEVER late. (Applause please) Then, yesterday morning I woke up at the first sound of my alarm and DELIBERATELY snoozed it, saying outloud, "The soup is not ready yet."
Minutes went by and suddenly, by some unseen force of nature, I opened my eyes and caught the faint rays of sunshine spilling in from the window. The birds were chirping exceptionally loud (it's usually still dark and quiet if I woke up on time at 5:30 am). My eyes darted to the clock sitting atop the television and propelled by the time it showed AND my heart attack, I sprang out of bed and made it in/out of the shower, out of the house and onto the bus in record time. The way I ran, you would've thought I was training for the Youth Olympics.
I'm no Gordon Ramsey-wannabe to actually eat, drink, breathe and dream about cooking. I think it's probably the number of hours I spent cooking during culi prac and the lack of sleep that has my body conditioned to thinking it hasn't "stopped" cooking even during the 4 hours of my supposed "periodic state of rest".
And after all that psycobabble, I've yet come to the mainpoint; in which the title was a derivation of. Yesterday, I came close to being late for Culi prac (notice how I always say 'Culi prac' instead of 'school'), today, I WAS LATE.
The reason why I emphasize on 'Culi prac' is because our grades for the semester is base on a daily marking system, as well as that of exams and practicals. Attendance and punctuality, much to my dismay, is one of the components. And because of a certain 6-wheeled public transportation, I was late.
The lecturers were apparently unimpressed by my "Youth Olympic-worthy-sprint". And I am not the least bit impressed with them brandishing their pens (like a fairy would her wand) and just like fairy magic, my marks for the day went "POOF!" right before my contacts-enhanced bambi eyes. At that instant I really wanted to stomp my feet on the ground and stab my stubby finger at the bus's direction and whine, "It's not meee! It's the BUSSS!!! It was stuck at the junction right outside school for TWENNY MEEENITESSS!!!"
But I didn't, would love to, but I didn't. Just gotta suck it up and chalk it to up to a bad day. The irony. I survived reaching school by 7:20 am for a good 3 weeks, but I was late for that ONE day lesson starts at 8:20 am.
CRITICS OF OUR CREATIONS.
I mentioned few posts earlier that I now have to re-adjust my body clock to conform to my new culinary practicum aka "bootcamp" hours: 10pm Bedtime / 5:30am Wake-up call.
Have I succeeded? Hmm..uh..eh.. More or less.
Am I enjoying it or growing to like it a teeny weeny bit? NOOO.
However, up till yesterday, I actually did fine and was never, (was close) but NEVER late. (Applause please) Then, yesterday morning I woke up at the first sound of my alarm and DELIBERATELY snoozed it, saying outloud, "The soup is not ready yet."
Minutes went by and suddenly, by some unseen force of nature, I opened my eyes and caught the faint rays of sunshine spilling in from the window. The birds were chirping exceptionally loud (it's usually still dark and quiet if I woke up on time at 5:30 am). My eyes darted to the clock sitting atop the television and propelled by the time it showed AND my heart attack, I sprang out of bed and made it in/out of the shower, out of the house and onto the bus in record time. The way I ran, you would've thought I was training for the Youth Olympics.
I'm no Gordon Ramsey-wannabe to actually eat, drink, breathe and dream about cooking. I think it's probably the number of hours I spent cooking during culi prac and the lack of sleep that has my body conditioned to thinking it hasn't "stopped" cooking even during the 4 hours of my supposed "periodic state of rest".
And after all that psycobabble, I've yet come to the mainpoint; in which the title was a derivation of. Yesterday, I came close to being late for Culi prac (notice how I always say 'Culi prac' instead of 'school'), today, I WAS LATE.
The reason why I emphasize on 'Culi prac' is because our grades for the semester is base on a daily marking system, as well as that of exams and practicals. Attendance and punctuality, much to my dismay, is one of the components. And because of a certain 6-wheeled public transportation, I was late.
The lecturers were apparently unimpressed by my "Youth Olympic-worthy-sprint". And I am not the least bit impressed with them brandishing their pens (like a fairy would her wand) and just like fairy magic, my marks for the day went "POOF!" right before my contacts-enhanced bambi eyes. At that instant I really wanted to stomp my feet on the ground and stab my stubby finger at the bus's direction and whine, "It's not meee! It's the BUSSS!!! It was stuck at the junction right outside school for TWENNY MEEENITESSS!!!"
But I didn't, would love to, but I didn't. Just gotta suck it up and chalk it to up to a bad day. The irony. I survived reaching school by 7:20 am for a good 3 weeks, but I was late for that ONE day lesson starts at 8:20 am.
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