I woke up this morning, sat up and spent a good 30 minutes pondering on life and death.
There is something sobering about how life and death works. I find it disturbing, intricate and interesting all as one.
Life in itself is rich. The opportunity to live life, to wake up every morning and waft in the scent of a brand new day is incredibly fulfilling.
Yet, I am frequently plagued with the truth that where I am today, it will not be this way for eternity. It is not meant to last till the end of time. It is not a place where I am commissioned to live forever.
In death, there is sorrow, heartache and a deep sense of loss. In every death, there is mourning. However, in situations like that, I can attest to the comfort of God upon my grieving heart and settle in the promise that that person is dancing in the arms of my Heavenly Daddy.
Today, it struck a chord deep within me. My time here is short, life is whiling away. There is an urgency in my spirit, the time is now.
The hour has arrived, the clock is ticking and there is so much to do. We all have so much to do.
With that, I am so challenged to sow into everlasting purposes. To not get caught up with temporal treasures and be lulled into earthly pleasures.
Instead, have abiding causes for my Loved One and to carry an interminable mandate: To be a radical believer for Him and be an ambassador of His love.
CS Lewis summed up my heart by saying this,
I long for the real thing (as CS Lewis puts it). I often wonder of how magnificent the sights, how glorious the presence.
Till then, whilst I am here, there is much to do.
The race has begun.
I am in it, you are in it and I pray that it will be your heartbeat to finish strong; keeping your faith.
For Him,
There is something sobering about how life and death works. I find it disturbing, intricate and interesting all as one.
Life in itself is rich. The opportunity to live life, to wake up every morning and waft in the scent of a brand new day is incredibly fulfilling.
Yet, I am frequently plagued with the truth that where I am today, it will not be this way for eternity. It is not meant to last till the end of time. It is not a place where I am commissioned to live forever.
In death, there is sorrow, heartache and a deep sense of loss. In every death, there is mourning. However, in situations like that, I can attest to the comfort of God upon my grieving heart and settle in the promise that that person is dancing in the arms of my Heavenly Daddy.
Today, it struck a chord deep within me. My time here is short, life is whiling away. There is an urgency in my spirit, the time is now.
The hour has arrived, the clock is ticking and there is so much to do. We all have so much to do.
With that, I am so challenged to sow into everlasting purposes. To not get caught up with temporal treasures and be lulled into earthly pleasures.
Instead, have abiding causes for my Loved One and to carry an interminable mandate: To be a radical believer for Him and be an ambassador of His love.
CS Lewis summed up my heart by saying this,
"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing."
I long for the real thing (as CS Lewis puts it). I often wonder of how magnificent the sights, how glorious the presence.
Till then, whilst I am here, there is much to do.
The race has begun.
I am in it, you are in it and I pray that it will be your heartbeat to finish strong; keeping your faith.
For Him,
M.
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"Evil may ferment, wrath may boil, and pride may foam, but the brave heart of Holy confidence trembles not."
Charles Spurgeon
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I am reminded, time and time again, that I can never out-love God.
Just as I began to tilt my head heavenward, look towards the beautiful sky which is decorated with fluffy white clouds, I let the rays of the sunbeam hit my face. I savoured it, not wanting to let the moment pass.
In that short moment, in my heart, I sensed a culmination of love. So much so that my heart was not only flooded, it began to overflow.
Love consumed me, there seemed to be too much of it; yet fulfilment and contentment came just as easily.
I find it pretty difficult to express the state of my heart right now. For once, I am struggling for words. Grappling for fitting words.
All I can say is I love You, my Awesome God. I love You, more than my life itself.
I was having my daily conversation with Him. My ears were whispered into, to turn to Psalm 33.
Just as I began to tilt my head heavenward, look towards the beautiful sky which is decorated with fluffy white clouds, I let the rays of the sunbeam hit my face. I savoured it, not wanting to let the moment pass.
In that short moment, in my heart, I sensed a culmination of love. So much so that my heart was not only flooded, it began to overflow.
Love consumed me, there seemed to be too much of it; yet fulfilment and contentment came just as easily.
I find it pretty difficult to express the state of my heart right now. For once, I am struggling for words. Grappling for fitting words.
All I can say is I love You, my Awesome God. I love You, more than my life itself.
I was having my daily conversation with Him. My ears were whispered into, to turn to Psalm 33.
I began to read and upon reaching verses 20-22, I just began to tear up.
It was a wonderful trickling of joyful tears, coming out of a heart brimming with immense love.
Here is what Psalm 33:20-22 (emphasis added) says,
“We wait in hope for the LORD;
He is our help and our shield.
In Him our hearts rejoice,
For we trust in His holy name
May Your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord
Even as we put our hope in you.”
Unfailing love.
A love that lasts forever, a love that knows no bounds, a love that completes, a love that never runs dry, a love that grow stronger with each passing day, a love that covers all sin, a love that is flawless and perfect, a love undeserved yet lavished upon, a love so great that nothing – here or beyond – could ever come close to anything like it.
It is that unfailing love that has captured my heart.
And, to that capture of unfailing love, I will my life to. Always and forever.
(Verse 1)
If I wrote a note to God
I would speak what's in my soul
I’d ask for all the hate to be swept away
For love to overflow
If I wrote a note to God
I’d pour my heart out on each page
I’d ask for war to end
For peace to mend this world
(Pre-Chorus)
I’d say, I’d say, I’d say
(Chorus - 1st half)
Give us the strength to make it through
Help us find love, cause love is over due
And it seems like so much is going wrong
On this road, we’re on
(Verse 2)
If I wrote a note to God
I’d say, Please help us find our way
End all the bitterness
Put some tenderness in our hearts
(Pre-Chorus)
(Chorus - Full)
Give us the strength to make it through
Help us find love cause love is over due
And it looks like we haven’t got a clue
Need some help from you
Grant us the faith to carry on
Give us hope when it seems all hope is gone
Cause it seems like so much is going wrong
On this road we’re on
(Bridge)
No, no no no
We can’t do this on our own
(Chorus - Full)
(Bridge)
(Ending)
If I wrote a note to God
P/S: Beautiful song, breathtaking voice. I teared up almost immediately.
Dear Dee Dee,
It has been two years (already?) and our friendship hasn't even taken a backseat.
If I were to compare it to anything, I would say our friendship is like lavender. Rows and rows of lavender. Absolutely beautiful and incredibly sweet-smelling.
I see you 5 days in a week, text you on the remaining 2 days and the times we catch up amounts to almost 6 days in one whole week (and on the 7th day, I rest).
You have been my source of joy, tons of laughter and heaps of fun. I am so very blessed to call you my dearest friend.
Happy Birthday, love.
Tons of love, many hugs and kisses,
Mellie.
It has been two years (already?) and our friendship hasn't even taken a backseat.
If I were to compare it to anything, I would say our friendship is like lavender. Rows and rows of lavender. Absolutely beautiful and incredibly sweet-smelling.
I see you 5 days in a week, text you on the remaining 2 days and the times we catch up amounts to almost 6 days in one whole week (and on the 7th day, I rest).
You have been my source of joy, tons of laughter and heaps of fun. I am so very blessed to call you my dearest friend.
Happy Birthday, love.
Tons of love, many hugs and kisses,
Mellie.
Comfortable armchairs; fantastic for curling up with a book, lots of plush cushions and surrounded by favourite reads.
I can't think of a better way to unwind and relax.
I can't say I'm too sorry playing it all by myself. Only because, I am winning every game. =p
37 I Love You-s.
I can't help but feel incredibly loved right now. And yes, this is for remembering (gloating might be included) purposes.
One of the greatest blessings of God upon my life (aside from my family) is fantastic friends; a circle of close-knit, almost family people. Those whom I talk to on a daily basis, text when I come across anything remotely interesting, share my bed with, converse for hours over cups of latte or tea and mostly, those whom I trust with my life (secrets included).
I love you too, dearest.
Of late, I think that my posts have been rather personal. However, I believe that some things are worth sharing; to inspire, to encourage and to strengthen.
The December schedule was out, I am to lead worship today. I was hyped up, so enthusiastic about it. The first few days, I couldn’t wait for Sunday to arrive; rubbing my hands together gleefully at the thought of it.
Come Friday - between rushing to meet assignment deadlines and hunger pangs - I drove to seek for food, completely forgot and turned into a junction, which is a double-line (translation: I was not supposed to make a turning into that particular road).
Unfortunately for me, the police were lying in wait that day and I was flagged to the side of the road.
The wheels of motion were already set; hence the officer–in-charge carried it out by the book. Reluctantly, however.
Playing dumb, I innocently waited for him to pop the question. He did. And, I replied, “No. I am a Christian, I will not succumb to doing that.”
Disappointment made apparent, he decided to give it one more shot by saying, “Well then, I have to do what I have to do. If only you could float me with some cash, this could all go away.”
I remained defiant, maintaining my stand.
As the summon was issued, I couldn’t help but feel crushed. My morale plunged into disappointment.
The summon clutched in my fist, I slowly trudged back to my car. As I sat myself down, tears began streaming down my face.
I didn’t know what caused the waterworks.
All I knew was at that moment in time, something transpired in my heart and my mind could not comprehend what it was, but I knew it was a consummation of love. It was something so precious, so tangible, so palpable.
I had to drive a distance to regain my composure before making my way back.
Upon reaching home, I scrambled to my room, knelt before my King and proceeded to have the most beautiful 2 hours of my entire life.
All I can say from this incident is:
1. NEVER EVER cross a double-line.
2. More importantly, NEVER forget that the double-line exists.
I am merely digressing, for humour purposes (If that actually worked).
This post is not meant to bluster, boasting my own song of being ‘holier than thou’.
See, this incident was a test of faith.
No one was around at that moment to witness if I did decide to perform that act. I will honestly say, there was that flickering thought, “How easy would it have been, if I had just settled it then and there.”
There is a price to pay, to do the right thing.
This incident, this test of faith costs me RM 180. In your walk of life, it may be something else.
I’ll tell you something else more important: Pay that price (literally, in my case).
Because, I am sure I passed with flying colours.
The result of this little test of faith is an experience so awesome; nothing could ever quite amount to it. It is utterly priceless.
I am so ruined for all else.
---------------
In my not understanding, You have never been more real to me.
I will give you my highest praise and deepest worship, no circumstance is going to hold me down. You still reign, my precious Lord.
I will give you my highest praise and deepest worship, no circumstance is going to hold me down. You still reign, my precious Lord.
---------------
I was conversing with a friend, and perhaps, I should share a portion of my dreams in life here. For solidifying purposes, to not forget it and some day if I need direction, I could look through the chronicles of Chatty Lass and be sure to make the right decision.
See, I enjoy cultivating and nurturing my imagination. In fact, I believe that it is rather healthy to do so. Time and again, it has provided escapism from the harsh reality into a world of endless possibilities and countless dreams. Suffice to say, I name day(or night)dreaming as one of my favourite pastimes.
So, here goes.
What I am sharing today comes straight from my heart, no fancy trimmings. They happen to be my deepest desires in life, straight from the pages of my journal.
The process of translating matters of the heart into words is no simple task, and please understand that I don’t ever do this lightly.
As I transferred the details of my journal into cyberspace, I noticed that the ink on the pages were smeared and blotty. My vision got cloudy.
I raised my hands to my cheeks and realised they were damp.
All bundled up against the chilly air-conditioner.
This is my 200th post.
I must say, this is not too bad at all; for someone who contemplated deeply and carefully took all matters into consideration before she decided to have a blog.
Perhaps, it should be referred to as a milestone. Or, an accomplishment for reaching the pinnacle.
For the past one year, I have shared some of my life's story on Chatty Lass, both the good and the bad.
This blog has been my source of encouragement and strength (I've received emails and compliments on it being a source of encouragement and inspiration to some. My heart flutters with joy, to know that you were blessed by the articles.), chronicling a part of my life.
Tonight, I am yet again blessed. Blessed to be amongst youths who are crazy for God, lifting up explosive praise and incredible worship to the most Beautiful Saviour of all.
I loved every second of it, and I am not going to trade it for anything; to do it for the rest of my days.
I must say, this is not too bad at all; for someone who contemplated deeply and carefully took all matters into consideration before she decided to have a blog.
Perhaps, it should be referred to as a milestone. Or, an accomplishment for reaching the pinnacle.
For the past one year, I have shared some of my life's story on Chatty Lass, both the good and the bad.
This blog has been my source of encouragement and strength (I've received emails and compliments on it being a source of encouragement and inspiration to some. My heart flutters with joy, to know that you were blessed by the articles.), chronicling a part of my life.
Tonight, I am yet again blessed. Blessed to be amongst youths who are crazy for God, lifting up explosive praise and incredible worship to the most Beautiful Saviour of all.
I loved every second of it, and I am not going to trade it for anything; to do it for the rest of my days.
My 20(++) year old body is no longer a sport for pulling an all-nighter or for being in debt with sleep.
My peepers are pleading for some shut-eye, as they are about to fall off their sockets. Physically, I am still agile, if you ignore the droopy shoulders.
However, enough grouchiness.
I hurriedly raced home today.
I shuffled my feet to the familiar object which I so love, bringing both joy and comfort to my soul through the years.
I sat at its’ stool and let my fingers do the talking. They began to trail up, down and over the keys. A simple melody was played, and my mouth began to sing.
I don’t know if my head sang, but I am certain it was my heart bursting forth in words of adoration.
I felt strength coasting through my weakened state.
I could feel the tender arms of my Loved One drawing me close to Him, tucking me under the safety of His wing.
I bared my soul to Him and I am greeted with kisses from heaven. I know with an eternal assurance, the amount of love He has for me.
I have never been left alone to fend for myself, not for a second.
Huge storms could be raging around me, waves crashing over me and the thunders roaring, but He is with me on that boat.
He was then, He is now and He always will be.
It was truly unimaginable pleasure, moments in life that I so live for.
P/S: With my thesis paper completed (Topic: How the Universe Came into Being, Scientific and Religious Views), I am blown away by the magnitude of my Loved One. So. Blown. Away.
My peepers are pleading for some shut-eye, as they are about to fall off their sockets. Physically, I am still agile, if you ignore the droopy shoulders.
However, enough grouchiness.
I hurriedly raced home today.
I shuffled my feet to the familiar object which I so love, bringing both joy and comfort to my soul through the years.
I sat at its’ stool and let my fingers do the talking. They began to trail up, down and over the keys. A simple melody was played, and my mouth began to sing.
I don’t know if my head sang, but I am certain it was my heart bursting forth in words of adoration.
I felt strength coasting through my weakened state.
I could feel the tender arms of my Loved One drawing me close to Him, tucking me under the safety of His wing.
I bared my soul to Him and I am greeted with kisses from heaven. I know with an eternal assurance, the amount of love He has for me.
I have never been left alone to fend for myself, not for a second.
Huge storms could be raging around me, waves crashing over me and the thunders roaring, but He is with me on that boat.
He was then, He is now and He always will be.
It was truly unimaginable pleasure, moments in life that I so live for.
P/S: With my thesis paper completed (Topic: How the Universe Came into Being, Scientific and Religious Views), I am blown away by the magnitude of my Loved One. So. Blown. Away.
I so mean it.
I have bloodshot eyes, I look like a hooded raccoon, and my skin is breaking out.
4 more sleeps, and I am hibernating for one whole week.
P/S: My baby Ruth, HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY! I cannot thank God enough for a sweetheart like you. I love you.
"All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship..."
*
*
In every circumstance, in every predicament, through the storms and joyrides, I have every reason to give You praise, my unchanging One.
I love You with all of me.
Phone rings, I look at the caller ID and smile.
XXXX: Hi. It's so good to hear your voice, it has been some time since I last did.
Melissa: Hey. The feeling is mutual, on this end of the line.
XXXX: So, what are you doing now?
Melissa: *looking at pictures of Johnny Depp (He was crowned the coveted "Sexiest Man Alive" award by People magazine, again)* I am looking at someone smoldering and gorgeous now.
XXXX: *without skipping a beat* Now, you are just making me blush. Haven't I told you not to stare at my pictures?
Melissa: *rolls eyes* I was staring into Johnny Depp's captivating eyes, love.
XXXX: *wails* You are just an ace at making me feel small.
---------------
XXXX: Hi. It's so good to hear your voice, it has been some time since I last did.
Melissa: Hey. The feeling is mutual, on this end of the line.
XXXX: So, what are you doing now?
Melissa: *looking at pictures of Johnny Depp (He was crowned the coveted "Sexiest Man Alive" award by People magazine, again)* I am looking at someone smoldering and gorgeous now.
XXXX: *without skipping a beat* Now, you are just making me blush. Haven't I told you not to stare at my pictures?
Melissa: *rolls eyes* I was staring into Johnny Depp's captivating eyes, love.
XXXX: *wails* You are just an ace at making me feel small.
---------------
The assignments had done me in.
I clocked in at 4.30am (as of this morning) and woke up to hit the road less than 3 hours later.
I almost fell asleep at the wheel.
This is not happening because of a one-night vigil, but spanning more than 2 weeks of accumulated sleep deprivation.
My sleep issues aside (I can't let it slide too far away from me, I am rather short-tempered and grumpy now), I can't help but mention this.
I've installed a hit counter at the right, lowest corner of my blog. It is to keep tab of visitors and readers alike.
Now, I do not profess to be a know-it-all or proclaim that my opinions (and solely mine) are a must to follow, as I know best.
No, it is common decency.
A few highlights, if you may.
You see, I capitulated, gave up resistance, caved in and succumbed to the lowly temptations of Facebook, all in the name of friendship and maintaining its' ties. How noble!
Sarcasm on hold, Facebook is an ingenious creation, perfect for long-distance communication and teasing, cool enough for day-to-day updates.
But, one of the biggest sins FB ever made was to include those pathetic quizzes and silly games. It annoys me to no ends to open my Live Feed and see those nonsense.
The quizzes are abysmal. Let me reiterate that, the quizzes are abysmal.
Your name is as it is, each letter does not represent your so-called personality or trait. You have no control of the future, therefore quit wasting your time on counting the chicks before the eggs hatch. Or, leave foolish comments like, "Wow, just what I want" or "Our kids are going to be the best of friends, we should arrange for playdates".
Secondly, this is perhaps the most informative news you'll ever receive in your lifetime.
Do not publish your relationship woes on FB. (This community message is brought to you by Chatty Lass, whom you should not despise but heed her advice, for your own sake. How's that for a tagline? Pretty awesome, isn't it?)
But seriously, haven't you heard of the words 'part amicably' or 'handle slippery issues with more care' (instead of announcing them to the world)?
My bed is howling my name, my brain pleading profusely for some shut-eye.
I shall digress, for now.
I clocked in at 4.30am (as of this morning) and woke up to hit the road less than 3 hours later.
I almost fell asleep at the wheel.
This is not happening because of a one-night vigil, but spanning more than 2 weeks of accumulated sleep deprivation.
My sleep issues aside (I can't let it slide too far away from me, I am rather short-tempered and grumpy now), I can't help but mention this.
I've installed a hit counter at the right, lowest corner of my blog. It is to keep tab of visitors and readers alike.
Now, I do not profess to be a know-it-all or proclaim that my opinions (and solely mine) are a must to follow, as I know best.
No, it is common decency.
A few highlights, if you may.
You see, I capitulated, gave up resistance, caved in and succumbed to the lowly temptations of Facebook, all in the name of friendship and maintaining its' ties. How noble!
Sarcasm on hold, Facebook is an ingenious creation, perfect for long-distance communication and teasing, cool enough for day-to-day updates.
But, one of the biggest sins FB ever made was to include those pathetic quizzes and silly games. It annoys me to no ends to open my Live Feed and see those nonsense.
The quizzes are abysmal. Let me reiterate that, the quizzes are abysmal.
Your name is as it is, each letter does not represent your so-called personality or trait. You have no control of the future, therefore quit wasting your time on counting the chicks before the eggs hatch. Or, leave foolish comments like, "Wow, just what I want" or "Our kids are going to be the best of friends, we should arrange for playdates".
Secondly, this is perhaps the most informative news you'll ever receive in your lifetime.
Do not publish your relationship woes on FB. (This community message is brought to you by Chatty Lass, whom you should not despise but heed her advice, for your own sake. How's that for a tagline? Pretty awesome, isn't it?)
But seriously, haven't you heard of the words 'part amicably' or 'handle slippery issues with more care' (instead of announcing them to the world)?
My bed is howling my name, my brain pleading profusely for some shut-eye.
I shall digress, for now.
P/S: Paying due tribute to my oodles (and what seems to be never ending) assignment loads, coupled with religious late nights, updates of this less-than-Chatty lass will remain in this form (for at least another 1.5 week).
No worries, for the lack of updates. This *points above* proves that I am still alive and kicking, albeit a rather weak kick.
Be back soon, lovely ones.
for myself, of course.
And, I'm loving it.
The pigment (at the far left) is so gorgeous. The texture is very fine and despite its' off-putting colour at first, it morphs into a beautiful pinkish nude sheen.
The reason for getting this collection (by the way, this is MAC's Holiday Collection 2009) is because of my itching to try out a gel eyeliner, AND the uber cute pewter bag with teal coloured details.
Touchwood, I am rather contented with this. The liner is a marriage of a kohl pencil and a liquid liner. It glides on effortlessly with the liner brush (mini MAC eyeliner brush #209).
I have a feeling that Christmas is gonna be splendid this time around *winks*
Love, Max (and his Mama).
You know, I don't understand people. I really don't.
No one can say I didn't try. I did, and I realised that I'm not good at it.
Along the way, I did pick up some really good friends and loaded them on my truck of friendship.
Till now, we are still on that same truck, venturing on new sights and places together. Absolute joy, that bunch.
I have been away for a couple of days (almost a week) and I apologise in advance to return with an angst-ridden post.
However, I need to blow off some steam. What better way to do it than in writing?
I am, by nature, a short-tempered person. My friends know it, my family; even more aware of it.
I do not throw hissy fits. I get pissed off, rant and tell it straight to your face that whatever it is that you are doing, it annoys me. To my very core.
People, in general, can't accept that. Why? Because, they prefer for you (me) to be good-natured and Little Miss Sunshine all the time.
No, I am not that sort of person. When I get mad or upset, I do not conceal it (unless there is an incredibly valid reason for me to do so).
At the very least, take pride in knowing that I won't be back-stabbing you.
Now, after that, I will calm down (I do not lose my mind in the heat of anger, mind you) and forget about it. Let bygones be bygones, no use harping on the past.
I am not one of those punctilious people who remembers each singular sin inflicted upon me. I have better use for my memory and brain.
With that, I hate (note the word, it is not often that I use it) people being Nosy Parkers and mega blabbermouths.
Even more so, I hate Nosy Parkers and mega blabbermouths who take me for an idiot, thinking that I actually lapped up all of their fake charm and flirting. (Word of advice: I can see right through you. Don't bother being an imposter, I am well aware of your phony remarks.)
Nothing gives you the right to judge a person. The age-old analogy of one finger pointed to a person and the remaining four, right back in your face, should be applied in life and has nevertheless stood the test of time in the area of relevance.
Should you open your disproportionate pie hole (seeing that it is overdeveloped), might I suggest that you look at yourself in the mirror beforehand.
Do not think that you are better than any person. You are not. I am not.
Do not, for a second, think that you are the best or if you are anywhere close to that. Life is fragile, it could be taken away from you in the bat of an eyelid.
You can only talk so much about people. In the end, I think that that person is feeling so empty and worthless on the inside, that he/she has to succumb to such a deed. I almost feel sorry for this bunch.
Nothing gives me the right to judge someone (even if it is something as obvious as the abominable snowman).
It is not about 'who-did-what-and-I-will-never-do-such-a-thing'. It is never about that.
It does not count if you murdered a person accidentally or intentionally. The sum-up? You took a person's life. There is a price to pay, the reckoning. It is the death penalty.
What I am trying to get across to you is, at some point or other, we have all made mistakes.
The difference is, I learn from it and I don't judge a person because of his/her mistake.
Look beneath the outburst or mistake. It happened because of a spark that set it off and a given opportunity.
You and I, we are an inch from falling into that. Chances are, it is because the spark has not yet been ignited or the opportunity has not come, did we not do what the other person did.
If it had been us in that position, who's to say that we won't fall into the same thing?
Think about this, ponder upon it.
P/S: My dearest Saviour,
Thank you for loving me, despite of my vast imperfections. Thank you for smoothing out my rough edges, and prompting in me the conviction of sin. I love You.
Daddy and Mummy,
Thank you for always reminding me this, patiently imparting values and embedding principles in me. I couldn't have asked for a better set of mentors and parents.
No one can say I didn't try. I did, and I realised that I'm not good at it.
Along the way, I did pick up some really good friends and loaded them on my truck of friendship.
Till now, we are still on that same truck, venturing on new sights and places together. Absolute joy, that bunch.
I have been away for a couple of days (almost a week) and I apologise in advance to return with an angst-ridden post.
However, I need to blow off some steam. What better way to do it than in writing?
I am, by nature, a short-tempered person. My friends know it, my family; even more aware of it.
I do not throw hissy fits. I get pissed off, rant and tell it straight to your face that whatever it is that you are doing, it annoys me. To my very core.
People, in general, can't accept that. Why? Because, they prefer for you (me) to be good-natured and Little Miss Sunshine all the time.
No, I am not that sort of person. When I get mad or upset, I do not conceal it (unless there is an incredibly valid reason for me to do so).
At the very least, take pride in knowing that I won't be back-stabbing you.
Now, after that, I will calm down (I do not lose my mind in the heat of anger, mind you) and forget about it. Let bygones be bygones, no use harping on the past.
I am not one of those punctilious people who remembers each singular sin inflicted upon me. I have better use for my memory and brain.
With that, I hate (note the word, it is not often that I use it) people being Nosy Parkers and mega blabbermouths.
Even more so, I hate Nosy Parkers and mega blabbermouths who take me for an idiot, thinking that I actually lapped up all of their fake charm and flirting. (Word of advice: I can see right through you. Don't bother being an imposter, I am well aware of your phony remarks.)
Nothing gives you the right to judge a person. The age-old analogy of one finger pointed to a person and the remaining four, right back in your face, should be applied in life and has nevertheless stood the test of time in the area of relevance.
Should you open your disproportionate pie hole (seeing that it is overdeveloped), might I suggest that you look at yourself in the mirror beforehand.
Do not think that you are better than any person. You are not. I am not.
Do not, for a second, think that you are the best or if you are anywhere close to that. Life is fragile, it could be taken away from you in the bat of an eyelid.
You can only talk so much about people. In the end, I think that that person is feeling so empty and worthless on the inside, that he/she has to succumb to such a deed. I almost feel sorry for this bunch.
Nothing gives me the right to judge someone (even if it is something as obvious as the abominable snowman).
It is not about 'who-did-what-and-I-will-never-do-such-a-thing'. It is never about that.
It does not count if you murdered a person accidentally or intentionally. The sum-up? You took a person's life. There is a price to pay, the reckoning. It is the death penalty.
What I am trying to get across to you is, at some point or other, we have all made mistakes.
The difference is, I learn from it and I don't judge a person because of his/her mistake.
Look beneath the outburst or mistake. It happened because of a spark that set it off and a given opportunity.
You and I, we are an inch from falling into that. Chances are, it is because the spark has not yet been ignited or the opportunity has not come, did we not do what the other person did.
If it had been us in that position, who's to say that we won't fall into the same thing?
Think about this, ponder upon it.
P/S: My dearest Saviour,
Thank you for loving me, despite of my vast imperfections. Thank you for smoothing out my rough edges, and prompting in me the conviction of sin. I love You.
Daddy and Mummy,
Thank you for always reminding me this, patiently imparting values and embedding principles in me. I couldn't have asked for a better set of mentors and parents.
I haven't been tearing up and crying for the longest time.
The question came - strangely but making enough sense in my mind - if my heart had indeed grown numb and frigid, unfeeling and untouchable.
I couldn't get any more wrong than that.
The past weekend has been amazing for me.
I sat for hours, crying and weeping. Prostrating, kneeling down, my face drenched with tears.
None of the waterworks were credited to sorrow or hurts, but it was for thanksgiving. Tears of comfort. Tears of love. Tears of reassurance.
My heart was set ablaze with more passion than before, my soul; quietened with gentle whispers of love.
My eyes are looking ahead with clarity, willing me to move forward; undaunted by fear or doubt because I have in my palm, a beautifully scarred hand closing in on mine. His hand.
My goodness, one touch. Just one touch is all it takes.
One touch, and I am ruined for all else.
The question came - strangely but making enough sense in my mind - if my heart had indeed grown numb and frigid, unfeeling and untouchable.
I couldn't get any more wrong than that.
The past weekend has been amazing for me.
I sat for hours, crying and weeping. Prostrating, kneeling down, my face drenched with tears.
None of the waterworks were credited to sorrow or hurts, but it was for thanksgiving. Tears of comfort. Tears of love. Tears of reassurance.
My heart was set ablaze with more passion than before, my soul; quietened with gentle whispers of love.
My eyes are looking ahead with clarity, willing me to move forward; undaunted by fear or doubt because I have in my palm, a beautifully scarred hand closing in on mine. His hand.
My goodness, one touch. Just one touch is all it takes.
One touch, and I am ruined for all else.
The weather was lovely this morning.
I decided to soak up some sun, whip up a simple brunch and dine in the garden.
I decided to soak up some sun, whip up a simple brunch and dine in the garden.
I love all things sugary. I must have something sweet after each meal.
Some spare time, and I decided to channel my likings in my header. =)
Some spare time, and I decided to channel my likings in my header. =)
When I was 5 (or 6), I commited the biggest sin known to the beauty world: I accidentally shaved off half of my eyebrow.
The details are hazy, but I recall looking incredibly awkward and wishing for the thousandth time that my overly itchy hands did not do something so idiotic. I also remember peering real close in the mirror every single day to check if wisps of those tiny hairs would already grow and blossom into an eyebrow once again.
I was not disappointed, but my patience was stretched to the limit. It took months, and the agony was excruciating. I vowed, never again will that happen.
As I inspected my freshly shaped eyebrows this morning, the memories of the incident engulfed me. I slumped on the floor for 5 whole minutes, laughing. It was a splendid way to start the day.
My eyebrows are pitifully light in colour, that they are sometimes non-existent on my face. However, I shape them once every 2 to 3 weeks.
My friend who occasionally tags along wonders the reason for my disciplined and religious need to engage in that practice.
I then explained to her that eyebrow shaping is not an act of vanity, it is a necessity.
It is because the eyebrows shape a person's face. It is a way of expressing emotions.
For instance, you furrow your eyebrows when you are not pleased with something, you raise an eyebrow (or both) quizzically when you do not understand a question posed to you.
Which is why, unruly and unshaped eyebrows looks horrendous. (On some days, I wish I had my tweezers with me. I would grab ahold of those eyebrows, wield my tweezers and work some magic on 'em.)
I am meticulous about my eyebrows, and only my beautician (and myself) is allowed to touch them. Anyone else who inches closer and exposes my eyebrows to possible danger, I will not hesitate to break their arm (I mean it.).
With technology, there are abounding ways to make one's eyebrows look gorgeous.
An increasing choice for many, is to do the eyebrow embroidery (or what I dub as 'permanently stenciled eyebrows').
I've had several recommendations to do the procedure (of stenciling eyebrows), but I politely declined.
I usually calculate my risks before plunging into a decision, and I realised the risks for beauty mishaps or malpractice is rather high.
The person brandishing the needle could be having a rough day and to add some humour or blow off some steam, she would stencil my eyebrows too high and I would look like a perpetually suprised rabbit.
Now, I'm off to fill in my eyebrows, curl my lashes, dab on some Vaseline and I'm good to go.
The details are hazy, but I recall looking incredibly awkward and wishing for the thousandth time that my overly itchy hands did not do something so idiotic. I also remember peering real close in the mirror every single day to check if wisps of those tiny hairs would already grow and blossom into an eyebrow once again.
I was not disappointed, but my patience was stretched to the limit. It took months, and the agony was excruciating. I vowed, never again will that happen.
As I inspected my freshly shaped eyebrows this morning, the memories of the incident engulfed me. I slumped on the floor for 5 whole minutes, laughing. It was a splendid way to start the day.
My eyebrows are pitifully light in colour, that they are sometimes non-existent on my face. However, I shape them once every 2 to 3 weeks.
My friend who occasionally tags along wonders the reason for my disciplined and religious need to engage in that practice.
I then explained to her that eyebrow shaping is not an act of vanity, it is a necessity.
It is because the eyebrows shape a person's face. It is a way of expressing emotions.
For instance, you furrow your eyebrows when you are not pleased with something, you raise an eyebrow (or both) quizzically when you do not understand a question posed to you.
Which is why, unruly and unshaped eyebrows looks horrendous. (On some days, I wish I had my tweezers with me. I would grab ahold of those eyebrows, wield my tweezers and work some magic on 'em.)
I am meticulous about my eyebrows, and only my beautician (and myself) is allowed to touch them. Anyone else who inches closer and exposes my eyebrows to possible danger, I will not hesitate to break their arm (I mean it.).
With technology, there are abounding ways to make one's eyebrows look gorgeous.
An increasing choice for many, is to do the eyebrow embroidery (or what I dub as 'permanently stenciled eyebrows').
I've had several recommendations to do the procedure (of stenciling eyebrows), but I politely declined.
I usually calculate my risks before plunging into a decision, and I realised the risks for beauty mishaps or malpractice is rather high.
The person brandishing the needle could be having a rough day and to add some humour or blow off some steam, she would stencil my eyebrows too high and I would look like a perpetually suprised rabbit.
Now, I'm off to fill in my eyebrows, curl my lashes, dab on some Vaseline and I'm good to go.
The much needed holidays are here, and she is coming to stay for a whole week. I am thrilled to catch up with her, soak up on the quality time. Ahh, sheer bliss.
My two accompaniments for this brief holidays are The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (pic below).
P/S: Reviews will be up once I'm done with 'em.
My two accompaniments for this brief holidays are The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (pic below).
P/S: Reviews will be up once I'm done with 'em.
Yes, you heard right.
This Chatty Lass is on a mission.
A mission to be in ship-shape condition, lose a whole lot of excess weight, get rid of jiggly thighs and wobbly arms, banish love handles, and let my thump-thump resound in its' best rhythm.
Bertha (my treadmill) and I have embarked on our journey of discovery.
I shall ring Jessica Alba for a physique comparison in one month's time.
I am not particularly fond of ageing. Very not fond of it, to be honest.
I am already in the second decade of my life, and my adolescent acne is not clearing up. It is getting a little better; going through a calmer patch, but not altogether gone.
When I peer into the mirror, I see lines forming at the bottom of my eyes, coupled with dark circles and eyebags (credit goes to my religious late nights).
Those visible-only-in-a-close-up lines are like premature stalactites. Give it another 10-15 years or so and they will mature to a full-fledged, highly visible (even from afar) crow's feet.
Don't get me started on jiggly thighs, love handles, ghastly cellulite and bulging veins on my hands and feet.
As much as I try to slow down the process (this is where the eye cream, rigorous DAILY exercise and healthy food intake comes in), ultimately I am getting old.
Counteracting ageing requires a lot of discipline, and positive outlook.
Most importantly however, the revelation has to dawn on you (me) that you (I) are not able to erase ageing.
I am all for looking your best, at all times, at whatever age you are.
But, I believe more in embracing life and loving yourself for who you are on the inside.
"Those lines and scars are beautiful," says make-up maven Bobbi Brown.
There is nothing chic and hip about a 40 or 50 year old dressing like a teenager, behaving like one, slapping on theatrical, four-inch thick make-up or being a Botox Barbie.
What it does is it highlights insecurities. What it does not do is make one look more attractive.
To send some shocking, reality check waves into the system, it comes (to me, at least) as an abysmal attempt to turn an old hag into a Cinderella once again.
The attempt is an epic failure, needless to say. (Cinderella's fairy godmother only managed to transform her outfit, not her features or take some years off her face.)
I may be from a prehistoric era, but I am not a paladin of assets' augmentations, facial alteration (disfigurement, in my opinion) and those bunch of rigamarole.
For what it's worth, those lines are well-deserved by one as it can only come with age.
I look at them as a lifetime achievement; where you would have to go through the ups and downs of life before you are granted with your mark of maturity and stamp of approval.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror once again, I am beginning to fall in love (all over again) with what I see.
Related post:
I am already in the second decade of my life, and my adolescent acne is not clearing up. It is getting a little better; going through a calmer patch, but not altogether gone.
When I peer into the mirror, I see lines forming at the bottom of my eyes, coupled with dark circles and eyebags (credit goes to my religious late nights).
Those visible-only-in-a-close-up lines are like premature stalactites. Give it another 10-15 years or so and they will mature to a full-fledged, highly visible (even from afar) crow's feet.
Don't get me started on jiggly thighs, love handles, ghastly cellulite and bulging veins on my hands and feet.
As much as I try to slow down the process (this is where the eye cream, rigorous DAILY exercise and healthy food intake comes in), ultimately I am getting old.
Counteracting ageing requires a lot of discipline, and positive outlook.
Most importantly however, the revelation has to dawn on you (me) that you (I) are not able to erase ageing.
I am all for looking your best, at all times, at whatever age you are.
But, I believe more in embracing life and loving yourself for who you are on the inside.
"Those lines and scars are beautiful," says make-up maven Bobbi Brown.
There is nothing chic and hip about a 40 or 50 year old dressing like a teenager, behaving like one, slapping on theatrical, four-inch thick make-up or being a Botox Barbie.
What it does is it highlights insecurities. What it does not do is make one look more attractive.
To send some shocking, reality check waves into the system, it comes (to me, at least) as an abysmal attempt to turn an old hag into a Cinderella once again.
The attempt is an epic failure, needless to say. (Cinderella's fairy godmother only managed to transform her outfit, not her features or take some years off her face.)
I may be from a prehistoric era, but I am not a paladin of assets' augmentations, facial alteration (disfigurement, in my opinion) and those bunch of rigamarole.
For what it's worth, those lines are well-deserved by one as it can only come with age.
I look at them as a lifetime achievement; where you would have to go through the ups and downs of life before you are granted with your mark of maturity and stamp of approval.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror once again, I am beginning to fall in love (all over again) with what I see.
Related post:
---------------
The stamp of a saint is that (s)he can waive his own rights and obey the Lord Jesus.
Oswald Chambers
---------------
P/S: It has been raining persistently, for the past two days.
The air is damp, and Max is not too pleased with it, but the smell of rain on the grass is heavenly.
P/S: This video is too cute, for it not to be shared.
---------------
Shortsightedness and the lack of understanding produces lacklustre judgement.
Melissa Cheah - 2nd October, 2009.
---------------
I haven't been really writing for some time already.
In some way, despite my initial (still prominent) detest for Facebook, it managed to worm its' way into me.
Bear in mind though, I am rather occupied with the aforementioned social networking site only because of long lost communication and catching up with mates. Apart from that, it is a far cry from being user-friendly.
I shall try to write something soon. Perhaps in a day or two.
In some way, despite my initial (still prominent) detest for Facebook, it managed to worm its' way into me.
Bear in mind though, I am rather occupied with the aforementioned social networking site only because of long lost communication and catching up with mates. Apart from that, it is a far cry from being user-friendly.
I shall try to write something soon. Perhaps in a day or two.
He loves me during my lowest points, encourages and spurs me on during the good times.
We've had our fair share of bickerings, arguments and differences, but he has never stopped loving me.
He loves me despite it all, irrespective of whether or not I deserve it.
It has already been 20 years, yet I still wake up to morning kisses and cuddles.
I love you, my Daddy.
We've had our fair share of bickerings, arguments and differences, but he has never stopped loving me.
He loves me despite it all, irrespective of whether or not I deserve it.
It has already been 20 years, yet I still wake up to morning kisses and cuddles.
I love you, my Daddy.
No, not in the bathtub. Where's the fun in that?
Aromatherapy candles, an engaging read and splish-sploshing around the tub. Very... common. (Which brings to my memory, I haven't been doing that for ages. Must book myself a room and do that.)
Men, we women like that. Don't ask why, we just like it. Capiche?
An unexpected downpour and I am strutting through the rain, undaunted. No scrambling and squealing, no umbrellas.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I strutted with poise, carefully treading, so that I wouldn't slip and land on my bum.
I may get a flu and fever tomorrow, but while I was at it, I loved every second of it. (Note to self: Stock up on vitamins tonight.)
Aromatherapy candles, an engaging read and splish-sploshing around the tub. Very... common. (Which brings to my memory, I haven't been doing that for ages. Must book myself a room and do that.)
Men, we women like that. Don't ask why, we just like it. Capiche?
An unexpected downpour and I am strutting through the rain, undaunted. No scrambling and squealing, no umbrellas.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I strutted with poise, carefully treading, so that I wouldn't slip and land on my bum.
I may get a flu and fever tomorrow, but while I was at it, I loved every second of it. (Note to self: Stock up on vitamins tonight.)
As my class ended, I was plastering an elephantine grin (my mouth actually ached) and smiling till my (already small) eyes look like slits on the drive back.
Welcome back, my darling holidays. I have missed you. Still cute as a button. We shall catch up soon enough, over ample pillow talk sessions.
Before I head off and savour my holidays (four fantastic days!), leave you with something to laugh about.
ACTUAL names of pet dogs
Welcome back, my darling holidays. I have missed you. Still cute as a button. We shall catch up soon enough, over ample pillow talk sessions.
Before I head off and savour my holidays (four fantastic days!), leave you with something to laugh about.
ACTUAL names of pet dogs
- Sirius (see-rious) Lee Handsome
- Rafikikadiki
- Peanut Wigglebutt Ed
- Scuddles Unterfuss
- Sophie Touch and Pee
- Hairy Putter
- Major Deposit
- Cowboy Von Dawg
- Scooby Poo Branch
- Inspector Foo Foo
ACTUAL names of pet cats
- Edward Scissorpaws
- Optimus Prrrime
- Buddha Pest
- Snoop Kitty Kitty
- Miss Fuzzbutt
- Toot Uncommon (as in Tutankhamun)
- Poopurr
- Cookie Lee Catfish
- Stretches the Cat
- Clawed Monet (the parents must be huge fans of CLAUDE Monet)
Source: Veterinary Pet Insurance
*
P/S: To my Muslim readers, Happy Hari Raya Aidilfitri.
To the rest chipping in on the holidays, Sleep On.
Related post(s):
The weather has not been kind the past couple days. It was sweltering.
This morning, she decided to play nice. Sent 'em beautiful pearls tumbling down.
I never get tired of hearing the raindrops fall. I never get tired of watching the droplets slide and slither down my windshield and windows.
My way of saying thanks?
A mug of peppermint tea with two teaspoons of brown sugar, a bikkie and The Men's Guide To The Women's Bathroom by Jo Barrett.
This morning, she decided to play nice. Sent 'em beautiful pearls tumbling down.
I never get tired of hearing the raindrops fall. I never get tired of watching the droplets slide and slither down my windshield and windows.
My way of saying thanks?
A mug of peppermint tea with two teaspoons of brown sugar, a bikkie and The Men's Guide To The Women's Bathroom by Jo Barrett.
Colin Alfie feels indebted to me, after receiving a mention on this humble writing pad of mine.
She repays and reciprocates by bestowing me with the highest honour she knows, a 15-second of fame (of me!) on her ranting tablet.
Colin Alfie's love letter to William W. Williams.
P/S: Atticus is my son's name. =)
PP/S: "Colin Alfie, you are most definitely a keeper.
You pulled me out of the depth of the abyss, drawing me deeper and deeper into your sacred craziness. You are an exquisite creature, one of a kind across this decaying land.
Along with the man of my life, the one who is the very reason for this thump-thump of mine to resound against the perfectly arched fortress, we shall live in eternal happily ever after."
She repays and reciprocates by bestowing me with the highest honour she knows, a 15-second of fame (of me!) on her ranting tablet.
Colin Alfie's love letter to William W. Williams.
P/S: Atticus is my son's name. =)
PP/S: "Colin Alfie, you are most definitely a keeper.
You pulled me out of the depth of the abyss, drawing me deeper and deeper into your sacred craziness. You are an exquisite creature, one of a kind across this decaying land.
Along with the man of my life, the one who is the very reason for this thump-thump of mine to resound against the perfectly arched fortress, we shall live in eternal happily ever after."
Dear readers,
From here on in, my sidekick, compadre, buddy, gorgeous mate, Debra shall be known as Colin Alfie (courtesy of yours truly).
That is, C-O-L-I-N A-L-F-I-E, Colin Alfie.
Oh yes, she now addresses me as William W. Williams (Beats me why she had to choose William).
Don't encourage her though. I am not fond of my newfound name.
From here on in, my sidekick, compadre, buddy, gorgeous mate, Debra shall be known as Colin Alfie (courtesy of yours truly).
That is, C-O-L-I-N A-L-F-I-E, Colin Alfie.
Oh yes, she now addresses me as William W. Williams (Beats me why she had to choose William).
Don't encourage her though. I am not fond of my newfound name.
I have not been writing something substantial for more than a week.
This time around, the bout of emotional ardour hit hard. I have not fully recover. My emotional state is a hodgepodge of feelings meshed together, some more than the others.
I am not ready to share just yet.
I need to gather my thoughts, regain my composure and pick up my feet once again; to freefall into the unknown, to venture out into the open and smell the roses.
Anyway, I am going to raise positivity up a level, pop the smiling mode in overdrive and write.
I recently checked and I am sashaying into the second phase of my life. Well, almost.
Life whiles away far too quickly. Our days have been numbered. Since the beginning of time, from the very moment the hot prince of air kisses our lips.
I disliked the idea very much when I was younger. I despised the idea of death, an ending from this world to a beginning in eternity.
The two things that I hated most was to visit someone in a hospital or to attend a funeral.
It was not because I did not care for the person. I just loathed the aura, the vibe the hospital releases. It was far from pleasant, it was horrible.
In the case of funerals or wakes, I would tear up and sniffle at Amazing Grace (which is a top hit for the event, mind you).
All that changed not too long ago, a year ago to be exact. I had to 'fess up to reality.
Now, since I am still not fond of talking about it in person, I am putting it in writing.
One day (that day will come, the uncertainty is on the when) I will be pushing up daisies. It's inevitable.
When that day comes, forget the achievements, accolades (if any). Strike that out from your eulogy speech.
Make it raw yet delicate, tell others of who I was to you. A side of me shown to you, a facet of my personality you have managed to catch a glimpse of that others may not have the opportunity of. Random (sometimes doofus-y) acts which made you laugh, stuff that make you go, "That is so like Melissa", all that.
This post may be riding on a solemn, depressing (to some) tone.
My take on it most imperative is: In every end, there is a beginning.
However, do not let it have a beginning only when it has reached an end. That would be tragic, on top of heart-breaking.
This time around, the bout of emotional ardour hit hard. I have not fully recover. My emotional state is a hodgepodge of feelings meshed together, some more than the others.
I am not ready to share just yet.
I need to gather my thoughts, regain my composure and pick up my feet once again; to freefall into the unknown, to venture out into the open and smell the roses.
Anyway, I am going to raise positivity up a level, pop the smiling mode in overdrive and write.
I recently checked and I am sashaying into the second phase of my life. Well, almost.
Life whiles away far too quickly. Our days have been numbered. Since the beginning of time, from the very moment the hot prince of air kisses our lips.
I disliked the idea very much when I was younger. I despised the idea of death, an ending from this world to a beginning in eternity.
The two things that I hated most was to visit someone in a hospital or to attend a funeral.
It was not because I did not care for the person. I just loathed the aura, the vibe the hospital releases. It was far from pleasant, it was horrible.
In the case of funerals or wakes, I would tear up and sniffle at Amazing Grace (which is a top hit for the event, mind you).
All that changed not too long ago, a year ago to be exact. I had to 'fess up to reality.
Now, since I am still not fond of talking about it in person, I am putting it in writing.
One day (that day will come, the uncertainty is on the when) I will be pushing up daisies. It's inevitable.
When that day comes, forget the achievements, accolades (if any). Strike that out from your eulogy speech.
Make it raw yet delicate, tell others of who I was to you. A side of me shown to you, a facet of my personality you have managed to catch a glimpse of that others may not have the opportunity of. Random (sometimes doofus-y) acts which made you laugh, stuff that make you go, "That is so like Melissa", all that.
This post may be riding on a solemn, depressing (to some) tone.
My take on it most imperative is: In every end, there is a beginning.
However, do not let it have a beginning only when it has reached an end. That would be tragic, on top of heart-breaking.
---------------
Your attitude towards life not only defines who you are,
but the quality of life you are after.
--------------
Drats.
I almost singed my entire lashline.
Close proximity to fire is never good or beneficial.
Not if you are born with a sparse lashline. Not if you desire to glue on falsies till the lashes magically grow again.
I think I am gonna put off cooking for awhile.
My lashes, as well as my slightly burnt pinky finger would thank me for it.
Related post(s):
I almost singed my entire lashline.
Close proximity to fire is never good or beneficial.
Not if you are born with a sparse lashline. Not if you desire to glue on falsies till the lashes magically grow again.
I think I am gonna put off cooking for awhile.
My lashes, as well as my slightly burnt pinky finger would thank me for it.
Related post(s):
Related posts:
P/S: My dad looked at the pics, turned to me and said, "You look fat." He is taunting me, this man I love.
I hear people talking about karma everywhere.
They refer to all things happening in their lives (good or bad, particularly when the bad reigns and good is subdued) to karma.
I checked out the definition of karma, in order to correctly write and address this post.
They refer to all things happening in their lives (good or bad, particularly when the bad reigns and good is subdued) to karma.
I checked out the definition of karma, in order to correctly write and address this post.
- Fate or destiny
- The good or bad emanations felt, to be generated by someone or something
Friends (and followers of Chatty Lass, if you remember), I do not believe in fate, destiny or luck. No such thing.
It is an excuse made; a sugarcoated, catchall excuse thrown out for the happenings amidst us.
Which is why, I do not believe in karma as well.
I am sick and tired of hearing laments.
It makes my stomach churn with disgust when I read of it, especially if it is from the same group of people, over and over again.
The government has done enough in the area of censorship, I am most definitely not gonna add to it.
It is a (somewhat) still free country, it is their choice and freedom to voice out whatever they are feeling.
However, if they see opportunity in everything and it triggers them to relate their sob story like clockwork, you've got to wonder if that bunch are alright in the head.
I, for one, would love to peer into their hearts instead. I can foresee a heart dark as soot, smudged with bitterness and coated with anger.
They could go on and on for months - relating incident after incident, from the beginning till the end of time - of how they had been mistreated, manipulated, used.
They would then cite karma as the best solution to their predicament, how they hope the ninny who had 'sinned' against them receive identical (if not worse) treatment someday.
I've got two words for you. Grow. Up.
You are certainly not the first person to have gone through it, you will also most definitely not be the last.
Why waste your breath and time harbouring such nonsense?
Share with you something.
I have been through that lonely, dark tunnel. The worst hours of my life. I sat in a corner, curled myself up in a foetal position and cried for hours.
That happened so many times, until one day. It was not too long ago actually.
My sleeves were soaked with tears, balled up tissues with snot pilling up in my bin.
I wiped away the remaining pearls, peered into the mirror to check for signs of bulging goldfish-like eyes (they were a tad bit swollen) and said,
"No more. No matter what happens, I am going to be resilient, and I am going to wish that person good. He/she is not going to affect me. Life is too short to hold grudges against. I only have one life, one shot. I am going to make it count."
I shared this quote here, I think it's fitting just right now for repetition.
"It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart".
Anne Frank - July 15, 1944
Loving life and believing in the good just because,
M.
P/S: Huge THANKS to awesome, talented budding photographer (plus editing), Debra. I love you stax.
PP/S: Next time, I am gonna swab on loads of insect repellent. The mosquitos there must have had a jolly good time sucking my blood and leaving their mark on me.
Thanks Deline.
(I am gonna be found laughing, all the way into La-La Land.)
Ris Low: If I'm fheeling noh-tee, then I'll wear something rahd and lhoud. Something you know (WATCH the hand gestures and expression on her face, it's priceless) boomssss.
She even had to pause before she stammeringly blurted out the course she is pursuing.
I rest my case.
I have to say though, the video is wicked funny.
Otherwise known as doughnuts.
The perfume which has stood the test of time (to me) - Alluring, musky, ethereal.
My thoughts are all over the place, my feelings are like a batter which is not mixed evenly, with clumps along the sides of the bowl.
I apologise in advance, if this post not all primped up to the likes of my previous entries.
My conscience is clear as I am putting this down in writing.
There were times where I have talked about people, behind their backs. I am guilty of that. I cannot write about this without being honest about myself, because I have pledged to tell the truth at all times, no matter what the costs might be.
But, never have I - intentionally, with premeditated motives - intend to stumble and bring down someone by slandering or libeling.
Identifications first. What is gossiping or what is the act of gossip?
According to Proverbs 6:16-19,
Understand this, gossip is destructive.
You can never imagine the extent of hurt hurled to the faces of those at the receiving end. If that person does not get up on the right side of the situation, his/her life was crushed at the tip of your tongue.
This I admit, I have difficulty trusting people. I've said it out loud.
I do not swallow blindly everything that comes out from people's mouth, without double-checking. Sometimes, I triple-check.
So, I hate (Hate is one word in the English language that I use sparingly. Suprisingly, love is another.) people lying to me.
When I find out about it, (trust me) I will not be pleased. One of my principles - The truth is out there and worth pursuing.
Every now and then, people do point out that I do not have a large circle of friends. It is not because I am arrogant, snobbish or anti-social.
I have a tendency to compartmentalize, where I do not share unless I know the person like the back of my hand. After I have dissected you, taken you apart with my deductions and I sum up that you are of no threat, friendship ties may proceed.
However, if my friendship with you has taken a downturn; constrained to puny proportions, surviving just on a need-to-know basis, you might want to analyse yourself and figure out the why.
After bringing this out in the open, I have to add that as much as it hurts (when you stumble upon the truth), forgiveness is essential. For yourself primarily, and the other person.
I have gone through it - struggled with hurt, wrestled with unforgiveness. In the end, I was a bitter, miserable person.
The second I forgave, it was as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. It was liberating, my life was spun 180degrees. I was a changed person.
Till today, I remember what I have gone through. Where I am today, the ongoing journey thus far.
I remember them not as sour memories with pangs of hurt crippling my heart, from expanding.
I remember them, to tell you how gossiping can destroy a life. I remember them to let you know I understand your predicament.
I remember them, most importantly to show you that I am still standing and you can overcome it.
P/S: Cui Lin, I received your email. No apologies needed, I am thankful you are making an effort to change. I love you, the amount much more than when we were first friends, about 15 years ago.
I apologise in advance, if this post not all primped up to the likes of my previous entries.
My conscience is clear as I am putting this down in writing.
There were times where I have talked about people, behind their backs. I am guilty of that. I cannot write about this without being honest about myself, because I have pledged to tell the truth at all times, no matter what the costs might be.
But, never have I - intentionally, with premeditated motives - intend to stumble and bring down someone by slandering or libeling.
Identifications first. What is gossiping or what is the act of gossip?
According to Proverbs 6:16-19,
- Gossip is having a false tongue.
You speak untruths, even when you know the whole wide picture. You are clear on the truth, yet you choose to sing your OWN song about the whole matter. - Gossip is to have a heart fabricating hurtful schemes.
Meaning to say, it is intended. It is on purpose. It was planned in advance - the whole story outlined, even hitting the highlights with feigned emotions. - Gossiping is to be a false witness that launches forth lies.
- Gossiping is for any person sending forth contentions.
You want to cause strife, promote division. You hate to see anyone having good relationships and friendships. It angers you, it makes you feel jealous.
Understand this, gossip is destructive.
You can never imagine the extent of hurt hurled to the faces of those at the receiving end. If that person does not get up on the right side of the situation, his/her life was crushed at the tip of your tongue.
This I admit, I have difficulty trusting people. I've said it out loud.
I do not swallow blindly everything that comes out from people's mouth, without double-checking. Sometimes, I triple-check.
So, I hate (Hate is one word in the English language that I use sparingly. Suprisingly, love is another.) people lying to me.
When I find out about it, (trust me) I will not be pleased. One of my principles - The truth is out there and worth pursuing.
Every now and then, people do point out that I do not have a large circle of friends. It is not because I am arrogant, snobbish or anti-social.
I have a tendency to compartmentalize, where I do not share unless I know the person like the back of my hand. After I have dissected you, taken you apart with my deductions and I sum up that you are of no threat, friendship ties may proceed.
However, if my friendship with you has taken a downturn; constrained to puny proportions, surviving just on a need-to-know basis, you might want to analyse yourself and figure out the why.
After bringing this out in the open, I have to add that as much as it hurts (when you stumble upon the truth), forgiveness is essential. For yourself primarily, and the other person.
I have gone through it - struggled with hurt, wrestled with unforgiveness. In the end, I was a bitter, miserable person.
The second I forgave, it was as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. It was liberating, my life was spun 180degrees. I was a changed person.
Till today, I remember what I have gone through. Where I am today, the ongoing journey thus far.
I remember them not as sour memories with pangs of hurt crippling my heart, from expanding.
I remember them, to tell you how gossiping can destroy a life. I remember them to let you know I understand your predicament.
I remember them, most importantly to show you that I am still standing and you can overcome it.
P/S: Cui Lin, I received your email. No apologies needed, I am thankful you are making an effort to change. I love you, the amount much more than when we were first friends, about 15 years ago.
The Christians are in a different position from other people who are trying to be good.
They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one; or - if they think there is not - at least they hope to deserve approval from good men.
But, Christians think that any good he (she) does comes from the Christ-life inside him (her).
He (she) does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.
They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one; or - if they think there is not - at least they hope to deserve approval from good men.
But, Christians think that any good he (she) does comes from the Christ-life inside him (her).
He (she) does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.
~ C. S. Lewis ~
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Melissa: Darling, say 'Thank you, Mama'.
Max: *bents in, looks me straight in the eyes and plants one on my kissers*
---------------
I swear, being a mum is so fulfilling. It does also help that my son is amazingly brilliant. *gloats*
Next up, I am going to teach him to say 'I love you'.
If his squashed-in face friend can do it (He needs to work on his pitching, sounds a little off-key), it'll be a piece of cake for Max.
God loves you.
You're rebellious, you cheat, you commit immorality, you're selfish, you sin, but God loves you with an intensity beyond anything I could describe to you.
He loves you, and He loves you so much that He gave His only son, Jesus Christ to die on that cross; and the thing that kept Christ on the cross was LOVE, not the nails.
~ Billy Graham ~
With blogs sprouting overnight, faster than green beans miraculously budding into bean sprouts, it is a no wonder many are turning to blogs as a writing pad to share, show off their latest gizmos and purchases, and announce the what's hot in their lives.
I beg to differ.
I've had friends asking me to do daily updates on my life, post journal-like entries. I declined by politely (but firmly) informing them I do not support their cause in blabbing my personal life to the rest of the world.
Most of the time, I am not too sure if my readers actually take the effort to read between the lines of my writings, comprehend the message I am trying (very hard) to convey and take it to heart.
I have been putting off writing this post for a long time, torn in-between two lovers; 'Should I?' and 'Should I Not?'.
Alas, I linked arms with 'Should I?', exchanged two kisses with him (one on each cheek, muah! muah!) and heaved a sigh of relief.
I beg to differ.
I've had friends asking me to do daily updates on my life, post journal-like entries. I declined by politely (but firmly) informing them I do not support their cause in blabbing my personal life to the rest of the world.
Most of the time, I am not too sure if my readers actually take the effort to read between the lines of my writings, comprehend the message I am trying (very hard) to convey and take it to heart.
I have been putting off writing this post for a long time, torn in-between two lovers; 'Should I?' and 'Should I Not?'.
Alas, I linked arms with 'Should I?', exchanged two kisses with him (one on each cheek, muah! muah!) and heaved a sigh of relief.
- Channel your own, distinctive voice.
It is pointless, of no use, to bust your butt attempting to copy or imitate another person's style of writing.
You may think what you are doing is inconspicuous. Do not be too quick to come to that conclusion.
Even blind Martians can tell that you are being a try-hard. Not to mention, a phony (You are as real as Lindsay Lohan's preposterously large overnight boobs).
Develop your individual sense of writing, a voice of your own instead of snagging others'.
You are probably the last person on Earth anyone should trust with a secret. Chances are, you are a mega blabbermouth. - Big, bombastic words DO NOT make your writings interesting and smart-sounding.
To utilise those words, you need to properly understand the English language, hand-in-hand with blessed creativity to pull off a coherent sentence.
Otherwise, it looks as though you have an incessant yearning to inject variety in your posts. Turning to the faithful ol' Thesaurus, you exchange your mundane words for something more spicy-sounding.
Thing is, the list of words listed are only similiar on a superficial basis.
An example, if you may.
The word gnaw means to bite on or chew persistently.
Saying "I gnawed on my serving of chicken parmigiana today" sounds rather wrong and out-of-place. No doubt it indicates you did perform the act of chewing persistently to digest your food.
The proper usage of the word would be "One of my dog's favourite pastime is to gnaw on a bone." - Simplicity in language is the best.
Now, I only use certain words because they fit into the occasion. They are an accurate depiction of what I am trying to say. Instead of a long-winded sentence, I can sum it up in one word.
Learn this, language is just one facet of the entire writing experience.
An excellent command in language is definitely a plus point.
That said, some of the best books I've read are uncomplicated, simple and yet astonishingly life-changing. - Bring substance into your pennings.
Let's say you have just gone through a whirlwind of things gone wrong; you just suffered a break-up and you are not sure if the light of day will ever shine on you again, your assignment mates are being ninnies and playing refuse to cooperate. You have had enough, and you turn to writing to blow off some steam.
99% of the time, you would begin typing furiously; cursing, ranting while wailing about injustice, calling your mates imbeciles and lazy bums, your former bf/gf a useless piece of crap.
Grow up in maturity, bring depth into your writings.
Do a 101 on how to deal with stone-headed people, or how it has moulded you to be a tougher person in handling sticky situations.
On any given day, it makes you seem like the bigger person (while you try to pick up the pieces or let your fume of fury die off). - Each writing style is unique.
Meaning to say, there is no right or wrong.
James Patterson and Sidney Sheldon are acclaimed best-selling authors. They excel in writing thrillers, political thrillers. Yet, they are as different as light and day.
The spine of the read may be the same (conspiracy theories, attempts to foil the government, FBI solving brutal murders) but I am brought into separate dimensions, looking through the disparate perspectives.
Same case scenario applies to us. - DO NOT brag.
Please, refrain from this.
Do not subject your readers to disgusted barfing.
Praises, accolades, achievements, even exam results should be avoided, at all costs.
Those who have ungraciously and unashamedly done that should be sent to the guillotine.
On an average, humans bathe 2-3 times a day and wash their hands 6-8 times a day (Maybe a little more if we get our hands dirty with chores and odd jobs around the house.).
I was keeping score (for no particular reason).
I shower 4-5 times a day, wash my hands (with soap) almost 20 times a day.
*circles eyes around the room* I think I am morphing into a hygiene zealot.
Waittt...
I think I know the root of the issue.
I am becoming obsessed with numbers.
This is bad. REAL. BAD.
What if I turn into one of those OCD (Obssesive-Compulsive Disorder) people? Where I would go mad if I don't get to wash my hands 2-0 times a day? Where I would INSIST on lathering up that amount of times eventhough my hands are not dirty?
Hmmm...
You know what?
No need to be alarmed. I think I just like numbers =)
I was keeping score (for no particular reason).
I shower 4-5 times a day, wash my hands (with soap) almost 20 times a day.
*circles eyes around the room* I think I am morphing into a hygiene zealot.
Waittt...
I think I know the root of the issue.
I am becoming obsessed with numbers.
This is bad. REAL. BAD.
What if I turn into one of those OCD (Obssesive-Compulsive Disorder) people? Where I would go mad if I don't get to wash my hands 2-0 times a day? Where I would INSIST on lathering up that amount of times eventhough my hands are not dirty?
Hmmm...
You know what?
No need to be alarmed. I think I just like numbers =)
This book kicks off with,
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman of fortune and passable good looks amuses herself in London with fashion, philantropic works and flirtation, until a suitable gentleman makes an offer. I consider the pursuit of bonnets and a husband fairly alike - I do not want to acquire an item which will wear out and bore me after a brief acquaintance, and we must suit each other well."
A modern day classic, I peg it as the perfect marriage between Pride and Prejudice with The Shopaholic series, Sex and The City thrown in as an added bonus.
The Rules Of Gentility is highly amusing, with rotating perspectives from the lead couple, Philomena Wellesley-Clegg and Inigo Linsley.
Fighting the urge to fast-forward to the last two chapters as the plot progresses (It is a very bad habit, I confess. It cuts off the anticipation.), I hurriedly read through the book, laughed and felt along with it.
I daresay, chick-lits are usually not my inclination as a choice of read, but this book is based heavily on Jane Austen's masterpiece, who so happens to be one of my favourite authors of all time (I did mention that this book is inspired by Pride and Prejudice, did I not?).
I think my moolah well-spent. (I gave up a quarter of my Dior lipgloss savings for this book.)
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P/S: I have been reading four books simultaneously during the flying holidays. Which is why I kept the review short, my brain needs to adapt and switch between the storyline of the books.
(I dedicate this post to my Worship Team.)
My dearest Worship Team,
My sincere thanks to you for bearing and putting up with me, supporting me all the way and most importantly, serving Him with all your heart.
Seeing such attitudes and enthusiasm, it spurs me on. It fires me up.
As I watched the church fall in worship to the King, swept into His arms of love, it evokes unspeakable joy in my heart.
I look around and am truly thankful to be given an opportunity to be on the platform with all of you. I am remarkably blessed.
I couldn't have done it without you, and we couldn't have done it without God.
This is my prayer for you,
"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."
Colossians 2:6-7 (New International Version)
Our greatest days have yet to come.
I love you,
My dearest Worship Team,
My sincere thanks to you for bearing and putting up with me, supporting me all the way and most importantly, serving Him with all your heart.
Seeing such attitudes and enthusiasm, it spurs me on. It fires me up.
As I watched the church fall in worship to the King, swept into His arms of love, it evokes unspeakable joy in my heart.
I look around and am truly thankful to be given an opportunity to be on the platform with all of you. I am remarkably blessed.
I couldn't have done it without you, and we couldn't have done it without God.
This is my prayer for you,
"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."
Colossians 2:6-7 (New International Version)
Our greatest days have yet to come.
I love you,
Melissa.
I really like this.
Not quite suprising, some of her invaluable advice shared are spot-on and affirms that I am on the right track as well as I have given others fitting advice for the right path.
Fellow genteel women, my sisters-in-arms, gorgeous goddesses - Listen up, and listen good.
- Stop making excuses for a man and his behaviour. Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.
- Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that's not meant to be.
- Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.
- If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve, then heck no, you can't 'be friends'.
- If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.
- Don't stay because you think "It will get better". You'll be mad at yourself a year later for staying when things are not better.
- Always have your own set of friends separate from his.
- Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. If something bothers you, speak up.
- NEVER let a man know everything. He will use it against you later.
- You cannot change a man's behaviour. Change comes from within.
- Don't EVER make him feel he is more important than you are, even if he has more education or is in a better job.
- DO NOT make him into a quasi-god. He is a man; nothing more, nothing less.
- NEVER let a man define who you are.
- NEVER borrow someone else's man.
- If he cheated with you, he'll cheat on you.
- You should not be the one doing all the bending. Compromise is a two-way street.
- You need time to heal between relationships. There is nothing cute about baggage.
Deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship. - You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you. A relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals.
- Make him miss you sometimes. When a man always know where you are, and you're always readily available to him - he takes it for granted.
The Holy Grail of advices? - NEVER move into his mother's house.
---------------
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
to the soul who seeks Him.
Lamentations 3:25 (New International Version)
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Lamentations 3:25 (New International Version)
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Modernity is fantastic. We are living in an age where everything is done in an instant, at the snap of our fingers.
Life is fast-paced, with more being achieved because the advancement of technology enables us to take dreaming up a notch, procreate reality in a different dimension than in the time of our grandparents.
I sincerely love it.
However, like it or not, that isn't always the case with God.
I am pretty sure most of the time, instant isn't a popular term in God's big book of vocabulary.
Last time I checked, patience was written in bold.
Due to the era we are living in, most of us complain even if we have to wait 30seconds longer at a fast-food outlet.
Likewise, we expect the same thing when we are asking from God, wherein direction is sought after or for an answered prayer.
We use the (what I coin to be) overrated proverb, Time Is Precious. We cook up excuses and say, it is our need when it is more of our want-s.
Learn to wait on Him, build reliance on Him.
Going ahead of God's timing will procure mistakes, sometimes costly mistakes.
When that happens, many a times regret floods in and the all too familiar "I wish I would have just be more patient and waited, instead of .........." would be uttered in a sombre tone.
Just as the waiting patiently part is vital, understand that God's timing does not necessarily align with a perfect fit to our desired timing.
Wait patiently all the same, because (I love this verse, found in Ecclesiastes 3:10. It has brought much joy to my heart)
"He has made everything beautiful in His time."
Waiting patiently and loving it,
M.
That's it!
I am very annoyed, it grates on my nerves, to visit blogs and have background songs blaring on my speakers.
Particularly if you bunch of nitwits have nincompoop sense of musical taste.
It irks me, it makes my blood boil.
I would hate to put my speakers on mute every single time I were to drop-by your page, because I would be listening to my preferred songs and at least I have the courtesy not to blast your ears with it. Only because I know, you wouldn't like it anyways. It is too refined and sophisticated for your puny brains to handle.
Do me and yourself a favour. Remove it. Then, the term 'civilised' can actually be labelled across your forehead.
I am very annoyed, it grates on my nerves, to visit blogs and have background songs blaring on my speakers.
Particularly if you bunch of nitwits have nincompoop sense of musical taste.
It irks me, it makes my blood boil.
I would hate to put my speakers on mute every single time I were to drop-by your page, because I would be listening to my preferred songs and at least I have the courtesy not to blast your ears with it. Only because I know, you wouldn't like it anyways. It is too refined and sophisticated for your puny brains to handle.
Do me and yourself a favour. Remove it. Then, the term 'civilised' can actually be labelled across your forehead.
The past has a way of weaving itself seamlessly into the present, paving its way into the future.
Someone once said, "You can let go of the past, but the past won't let go of you."
Briliant quote - I nod my head in agreement, throw my hands (and legs) up in the air with acceptance.
During my adolescent years, I adored the long-haired, arrow-shooting, bow-holding boy in LOTR.
Someone once said, "You can let go of the past, but the past won't let go of you."
Briliant quote - I nod my head in agreement, throw my hands (and legs) up in the air with acceptance.
During my adolescent years, I adored the long-haired, arrow-shooting, bow-holding boy in LOTR.
Make no mistake though, I am still a very avid fan of Tolkien's works. I read LOTR (all 3 books) once every year and I've been doing that for the past 5years. (I am slacking a little this year, I have yet to start on my annual ritual.)
If you are going bonkers with curiosity, I am referring to Legolas from the Lord Of The Rings trilogy.
I thought that he was incredibly good-looking, only to be severely disappointed when I saw the real Legolas (minus the shiny blond hair and piercing blue eyes).
I am way past that stage right now (meaning that I do not like boys, primarily pretty boys - examples of them: Zac Efron, Chace Crawford or even so-called cutesy David Archuleta.)
I go ga-ga over men like David Boreanaz (post-Buffy, ala Special Agent Seeley Booth in Bones), Patrick Dempsey (in Grey's Anatomy) and Daniel Craig (just the abs, really).
If I could turn back time, I would rather be swooning over the macho, swashbuckling, sword-wielding man =)
Every morning (afternoon, where holidays are concerned) to get my engine all revved up for the day, I plunk down in front of the comp for approximately 30mins to check up on the latest updates on celebrity gossip as well as do a swift drop in (staying long enough to say 'Hi' sometimes) at my favourite sites.
Saw this (look below) at one of my favourite blogspots.
See the entire post here.
Just so you can see it better
Debra,
You are also my first real friend in college. I like how we compliment each other, you being completely nuts and me, being me.
Plus, you should give it a rest with the chicken thigh. It was epic, one to remember as part of college life. We made our mark in the library, we would forever be remembered by the stain you caused *grins*
I know this is your way of saying you miss and appreciate me.
Back at you.
Date you next week =)
P/S: It was potato salad, love. Not mashed potatoes.
I am famed, notorious for being a bozo and making a fool out of myself.
It is not that I intend to be one. From what I can gather, most of the time I was just caught unaware at an act of total randomness or being a klutz.
I think we all have gone through the usual tripping on something and falling on our derrieres. Rather common, that one. I have lost count on the times my posterior has suffered and be taken refuge as my landing pad.
To be honest, I find some of my clumsiness and (unintended) foolish acts kinda funny.
I'd like to remember some of them, hence this post.
In an event where my memory fails me one day (It is bound to happen, a few years from now), I can still look back at my posts and have a good laugh.
Incident No.1: Dicksy the Dog
I swear, that is the dog's name (Not 100% positive about the spelling though).
I've always loved dogs, see.
My aunt had Dicksy and he was alright-cute. I loved to nuzzle up to my toys when I was a little girl, so Dicksy (looking like one) was about to receive the same treatment from me when he suddenly snapped.
That dog nearly bit my nose off, and left me with two holes for a nose (Harry Potter fans, the imagery is similiar to Voldemort).
My aunt shrieked loudly. My parents were furious but amused. I, however, was traumatised.
Silly Dick.
Incident No.2: Quick, Duck!
To say that I disliked school would be an understatement. I despised more than half of the subjects taught.
Reaching age 17, I was over the moon when one of my friends could actually drive.
The day finally came when we had a completely free day, no lessons were ongoing. My friend proposed that we grab some sustanence as breakkie and do a little sightseeing.
I was thrilled. The lot of us cramped into her automobile, had the radio on full blast, singing at the top of our voices.
I noticed a policeman ahead of us. Fearing that we would all get our butts in trouble for playing truant and face demerit consequences (as we were in pinafores during what was supposed to be 'school hours'), I shouted, "Quick, duck for cover!" (It was reflex.)
My mates started laughing non-stop and one of them said, "Even if we all ducked, our chauffeur is still in uniform. We would be in trouble nonetheless."
That became our constant joke. Till this day, when I regale the incident in my mind, I would throw my head back and laugh aloud.
Ahh, the good times.
Incident No.3: Squint-Eyed Embarassment
(Note: This particular incident is not to mock, or disrespect.)
One of my church members had a serious bout of cross-eye.
It was bad, bad as in when she is actually talking to you, her peepers would have this faraway look to the east (Not exactly east, it was very compass-like. You wouldn't know which way she was looking.)
She was standing in front of me and chatting away, dishing anecdotes.
Since she did not refer to me by name, I naturally assumed she was talking to someone else (I have my manners. I would never intrude uninvited into a conversation.).
Mistake on my part? I never bothered to look over my shoulder.
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Squinty: Blah, blah, blah..... Yada, yada, yada..... It's so funny, isn't it? Don't you think so, MELISSA?
Melissa: *stammers* Uhhhh, yup. Sure is. Would you mind repeating it again? My mind (my eyes, actually) was somewhere else.
I think she was a little hurt that I wasn't paying attention.
Who's to blame? It is not my fault that she didn't look me in the eye and referred to me by name. Nor is it her fault that her eyes tend to stray east-ward.
Cross-eyed people make my life a tad bit more challenging, I must say.
Incident No.4: Flying Shoe
This happened in an outing with my youth group, during a trip to the bowling alley.
I was all pumped up for it, as I haven't been bowling for years.
Upon reaching the counter, I realised my shoe size was no longer available. Itching to bowl, I laced up a pair of shoes, ignoring the difference of one shoe size.
I chose the ball I wanted and was on my way to show off my bowling chops.
I took a couple of steps back, swung my hand back and jogged lightly to the lane.
Along with the bowling ball - my shoe flew, did a little somersault in the air and landed right into the middle of the lane.
My entire youth group roared with laughter; the guy-in-charge was having a hard time trying to keep a straight face as he retrieved my shoe for me.
Thing is, my shoe-flying incident didn't only happen once. It happened twice.
Needless to say, I stayed away from the particular bowling alley for almost a year.
Incident No.5: Stuck!
Gals love all things beautiful.
As much as I hate to admit it, most of the time I prefer gorgeous but less practical heels over proper, not toe-pinching and stable footwear.
The reason? Vanity's sake. Because, not only does it add miles to my height, it makes my feet look dainty.
I was to sing with my friends for my church's anniversary. My choice of shoes? My sexy black lace heels.
I walked up to the platform, reached out for my mike when I realised one of my stiletto heel was caught in the gaps.
Desperate to tug it out, I maintained my calmness and tried to inconspicuously wiggle my feet to free the trapped heel. It didn't work.
The intro to the song was played, I had no choice but to begin singing, with half of my body lower than the other.
After the deed was done, my friend had to bend down, allowing me to stabilise myself with one hand on his shoulder while he emancipated my heel.
This happened in front of a 300-400 person crowd.
T'was very, very embarassing.
My only consolation was that I did not topple over while trying to worm my foot out.
That would have been epic embarassment.
*
This post is far too long, I should put a stop to it now.
Perhaps, some of my doofus-in-action stories should just follow me to the grave, they are too personal to share here.
It is not that I intend to be one. From what I can gather, most of the time I was just caught unaware at an act of total randomness or being a klutz.
I think we all have gone through the usual tripping on something and falling on our derrieres. Rather common, that one. I have lost count on the times my posterior has suffered and be taken refuge as my landing pad.
To be honest, I find some of my clumsiness and (unintended) foolish acts kinda funny.
I'd like to remember some of them, hence this post.
In an event where my memory fails me one day (It is bound to happen, a few years from now), I can still look back at my posts and have a good laugh.
Incident No.1: Dicksy the Dog
I swear, that is the dog's name (Not 100% positive about the spelling though).
I've always loved dogs, see.
My aunt had Dicksy and he was alright-cute. I loved to nuzzle up to my toys when I was a little girl, so Dicksy (looking like one) was about to receive the same treatment from me when he suddenly snapped.
That dog nearly bit my nose off, and left me with two holes for a nose (Harry Potter fans, the imagery is similiar to Voldemort).
My aunt shrieked loudly. My parents were furious but amused. I, however, was traumatised.
Silly Dick.
Incident No.2: Quick, Duck!
To say that I disliked school would be an understatement. I despised more than half of the subjects taught.
Reaching age 17, I was over the moon when one of my friends could actually drive.
The day finally came when we had a completely free day, no lessons were ongoing. My friend proposed that we grab some sustanence as breakkie and do a little sightseeing.
I was thrilled. The lot of us cramped into her automobile, had the radio on full blast, singing at the top of our voices.
I noticed a policeman ahead of us. Fearing that we would all get our butts in trouble for playing truant and face demerit consequences (as we were in pinafores during what was supposed to be 'school hours'), I shouted, "Quick, duck for cover!" (It was reflex.)
My mates started laughing non-stop and one of them said, "Even if we all ducked, our chauffeur is still in uniform. We would be in trouble nonetheless."
That became our constant joke. Till this day, when I regale the incident in my mind, I would throw my head back and laugh aloud.
Ahh, the good times.
Incident No.3: Squint-Eyed Embarassment
(Note: This particular incident is not to mock, or disrespect.)
One of my church members had a serious bout of cross-eye.
It was bad, bad as in when she is actually talking to you, her peepers would have this faraway look to the east (Not exactly east, it was very compass-like. You wouldn't know which way she was looking.)
She was standing in front of me and chatting away, dishing anecdotes.
Since she did not refer to me by name, I naturally assumed she was talking to someone else (I have my manners. I would never intrude uninvited into a conversation.).
Mistake on my part? I never bothered to look over my shoulder.
----------
Squinty: Blah, blah, blah..... Yada, yada, yada..... It's so funny, isn't it? Don't you think so, MELISSA?
Melissa: *stammers* Uhhhh, yup. Sure is. Would you mind repeating it again? My mind (my eyes, actually) was somewhere else.
----------
I think she was a little hurt that I wasn't paying attention.
Who's to blame? It is not my fault that she didn't look me in the eye and referred to me by name. Nor is it her fault that her eyes tend to stray east-ward.
Cross-eyed people make my life a tad bit more challenging, I must say.
Incident No.4: Flying Shoe
This happened in an outing with my youth group, during a trip to the bowling alley.
I was all pumped up for it, as I haven't been bowling for years.
Upon reaching the counter, I realised my shoe size was no longer available. Itching to bowl, I laced up a pair of shoes, ignoring the difference of one shoe size.
I chose the ball I wanted and was on my way to show off my bowling chops.
I took a couple of steps back, swung my hand back and jogged lightly to the lane.
Along with the bowling ball - my shoe flew, did a little somersault in the air and landed right into the middle of the lane.
My entire youth group roared with laughter; the guy-in-charge was having a hard time trying to keep a straight face as he retrieved my shoe for me.
Thing is, my shoe-flying incident didn't only happen once. It happened twice.
Needless to say, I stayed away from the particular bowling alley for almost a year.
Incident No.5: Stuck!
Gals love all things beautiful.
As much as I hate to admit it, most of the time I prefer gorgeous but less practical heels over proper, not toe-pinching and stable footwear.
The reason? Vanity's sake. Because, not only does it add miles to my height, it makes my feet look dainty.
I was to sing with my friends for my church's anniversary. My choice of shoes? My sexy black lace heels.
I walked up to the platform, reached out for my mike when I realised one of my stiletto heel was caught in the gaps.
Desperate to tug it out, I maintained my calmness and tried to inconspicuously wiggle my feet to free the trapped heel. It didn't work.
The intro to the song was played, I had no choice but to begin singing, with half of my body lower than the other.
After the deed was done, my friend had to bend down, allowing me to stabilise myself with one hand on his shoulder while he emancipated my heel.
This happened in front of a 300-400 person crowd.
T'was very, very embarassing.
My only consolation was that I did not topple over while trying to worm my foot out.
That would have been epic embarassment.
*
This post is far too long, I should put a stop to it now.
Perhaps, some of my doofus-in-action stories should just follow me to the grave, they are too personal to share here.
When high-powered book editor Margaret faces deportation to her native Canada, the quick-thinking exec declares that she's actually engaged to her unsuspecting put-upon assistant Andrew, who she's tormented for years. He agrees to participate in the charade, but with a few conditions of his own. The unlikely couple heads to Alaska to meet his quirky family and the always-in-control city girl finds herself in one comedic fish-out-of-water situation after another. With an impromptu wedding in the works and an immigration official on their tails, Margaret and Andrew reluctantly vow to stick to the plan despite the precarious consequences.
(Source: IMDb)
I am not a big fan and staunch believer of rom-coms.
I prefer those soppy love movies, The Notebook is the best thus far. Find me one which will make me weep and get all snotty to that extent, and I will declare it a contender. Till then, I remain unmoved.
Let the record state that it is not because this 5'4 sharp-tongued but otherwise chatty lass is cold and unfeeling. It is because she has pledged to be an undyingly devoted realist.
But, I must say for a rom-com (My all-time, still unbeatable favourite is My Best Friend's Wedding), The Proposal is one to watch.
The movie maintains its element as a rom-com, yet it is not corny as to the likes of its predecessors (Four Christmases - utter disaster, The Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, 17 Again - Zac Efron is such a pretty boy. Ugh...).
The chemistry between Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds is delightful and easy on the eyes. I also laughed, a whole lot I might add, at the witty retorts and punchy lines (though most of those watching are less participative. I am placing a conjecture that it is due to their lack of comprehension.).
Not to forget, Reynold's puppy-dog expressions are immensely adorable (Anyone who is able to resemble the cuteness of Max is a genius).
One downside, which made me squirm in my seat and understand the expression 'It makes my skin crawl'.
I point accusingly at jack-of-all-trades Ramone. The burlesque dance routine he did, made me shield my eyes from the screen and blushed to the hue of a ripe tomato. Thankfully (for me), the cinema's lightings are dimmed.
I almost forgot. The best part of the movie? The uber cute Samoyed puppy, who goes by the name Kelvin in the movie. So. Darn. Adorable.
Rating: 3/5
I used to have Post-Its stuck on my mirrors and walls, precious words of wisdom scribbled on them.
Usually, they are quotes I love. Or, words which have left a deep imprint in my heart that I never want to forget.
I was sifting through the scraps of Post-Its and itty-bitty pieces of papers, torn at the edges but with life-changing words scrawled on them.
I am immortalising one of my dear favourites here, today - for it to be an unceasing reminder to all of us.
---------------
Usually, they are quotes I love. Or, words which have left a deep imprint in my heart that I never want to forget.
I was sifting through the scraps of Post-Its and itty-bitty pieces of papers, torn at the edges but with life-changing words scrawled on them.
I am immortalising one of my dear favourites here, today - for it to be an unceasing reminder to all of us.
---------------
People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.
Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.
by Mother Teresa
---------------
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.
Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.
by Mother Teresa
---------------
for a change.
Did a little something-something to my header last night.
Came to the conclusion that it was not quite right. So being the eternal fussbudget, I started from scratch all over again.
For now, this *points below* is gonna be sticking around for awhile.
---------------
Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks.
God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.
John 4:23-24 (New International Version)
---------------
Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks.
God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.
John 4:23-24 (New International Version)
---------------
I have looked to God for many hours and meditated on those verses.
As a worshipper first, then a worship leader, it is my heart’s quest to bring a new sound to heaven. An anthem of praise, a banner of extravagant worship hung high across this generation.
Now listen, because this is important.
Regardless of how incredible the musical compositions, beyond the shouts and cries, above all else, to worship is to be lost in loving Him.
It transcends the circumstance you reeled in, the tribulations obstructing your path, whether or not you are ‘in the mood’ to do it.
Worship is a time for you to express your adoration and declare your love for the One who first loved you.
It is a time for you to be overgenerous in your praises, superfluous in your adoration, lavishing Him with gratitude and being profusely in awe of the Magnificent King.
To come to that point, to reach that climax, you have to be inherent of your worth in Christ Jesus.
You have to be rooted in your heritage – You are heirs of the Most High God, you are called His beloved and most importantly, you are deeply loved and highly favoured by Him.
A price was paid for your ransom, for you to live more abundantly than ever before.
He was blameless, but He became sin’s offering. His life was the price paid, for our salvation.
When you begin to grasp, become aware and cognizant of the full measure of His love, I assure you, a free-flow of tears would stream down your face.
To even begin to comprehend it, I am at a loss for words. It is unimaginable, undeserved. Yet, it is so gentle and tangible, without reservation.
The time has come, for us to settle in the security, rest in the assurance that we are loved.
However, it is no highway option, no easy route, most certainly not a boulevard to reach the gateway.
It is a long and winding road (Ah, the Beatles!) to the top of the hill. Upon reaching nonetheless, a phenomenal view bursts in grandeur.
I remember a piece of correspondence I wrote to my Worship Team after Alive! Concert. Here is an excerpt of what I said.
As a worshipper first, then a worship leader, it is my heart’s quest to bring a new sound to heaven. An anthem of praise, a banner of extravagant worship hung high across this generation.
Now listen, because this is important.
Regardless of how incredible the musical compositions, beyond the shouts and cries, above all else, to worship is to be lost in loving Him.
It transcends the circumstance you reeled in, the tribulations obstructing your path, whether or not you are ‘in the mood’ to do it.
Worship is a time for you to express your adoration and declare your love for the One who first loved you.
It is a time for you to be overgenerous in your praises, superfluous in your adoration, lavishing Him with gratitude and being profusely in awe of the Magnificent King.
To come to that point, to reach that climax, you have to be inherent of your worth in Christ Jesus.
You have to be rooted in your heritage – You are heirs of the Most High God, you are called His beloved and most importantly, you are deeply loved and highly favoured by Him.
A price was paid for your ransom, for you to live more abundantly than ever before.
He was blameless, but He became sin’s offering. His life was the price paid, for our salvation.
When you begin to grasp, become aware and cognizant of the full measure of His love, I assure you, a free-flow of tears would stream down your face.
To even begin to comprehend it, I am at a loss for words. It is unimaginable, undeserved. Yet, it is so gentle and tangible, without reservation.
The time has come, for us to settle in the security, rest in the assurance that we are loved.
However, it is no highway option, no easy route, most certainly not a boulevard to reach the gateway.
It is a long and winding road (Ah, the Beatles!) to the top of the hill. Upon reaching nonetheless, a phenomenal view bursts in grandeur.
I remember a piece of correspondence I wrote to my Worship Team after Alive! Concert. Here is an excerpt of what I said.
“In spite of all we have done tonight, the most glorious moments of your worship should never be when you are up on the platform. It should be that of your personal moments with Him, just you and Him alone.”
Begin to rise up in worship, your mouths shouting aloud His praises. Let your face radiate His beauty and your being, shine forth His glory.
I love you dearly,
Melissa.
