The countdown to quarterlife.

Someone once told me, if you want a fulfilling life, then join the Army, visit exotic places, meet strange people, then kill them. Mine isn't that fulfilling afterall, since the only exotic place I could think of I had visited is Santorini Island in Greece, which may be far from exotic for some of you. I have met strange people but I have not kill them. I can barely run 5km, what more join the army and get shipped off to Iraq.

In a nutshell, I cannot see how fulfilling my life can get.  My everyday routine is so mundane that if you lead my life, you probably would have jump off cliffs by now. I have just returned from a whole morning at trial with my Walking Encylopedia and my brain cells are close to collapsing from exhaustion. If there is a brain cell tribunal, I am sure I have alot of complains from mine. Overworked and underfed.

I honestly believe now, with every ounce of strength - emotionally/mentally/physically I have in me, I haven't quite grown up and fully developed to be the mature woman I would have expected to be as I near towards my quarter-life. On some days, I still feel I live in a glass house and if someone decides to pelt pebbles at me, my santuary of happiness will shatter. The essence of every pursuit of happiness is to be able to detach yourself from worldly things and live life knowing that nothing is eternal, nothing last forever, and in some ways or another, we either get left behind or leave someone behind.

Nobody likes a whiner. Trust us on this one (if you don't believe us, ask Michael Moore!) Seriously, I've really got to cut that out. It's driving some people fucking nuts. Every time I whine (especially in public) it must make you want to leave me on the side of the road. This waffling about how unfulfilling my life is has got to stop. I change my mind faster than Rudy Gulliani changes his politics. Do I freaking love my job or not? Do I want to go for a smashingtastic holiday or not? Do I like coming to work and replying nasty emails or do these nasty emails make me want to cry and go home instead? I am starting to remind you of the schizo ex-girlfriend from college  - and that is never a good sign.

I was once a 3 foot cutely chubby kid that everyone loves, even when I was just babbling endlessly about how I enjoy colouring my parent's stark white walls with permanent colourful marker pens. The keyword there was COLOUR. White just wasn't my taste when I was tiny and cute. Well, I did not stay 3 foot forever. I grew taller, a little and all my antics were not so funny as my height increased too. Pretty soon, that "being cute" thing started to wear a little thin. I had to back it up with some serious substance. After all, the world is filled with formerly cute kids who couldn't quite cut it at the next level.  When I turned 6, my parents sat me down and gave me the "talk". They warned me, "If you want all this continued love and affection, you're going to need to raise your game." For starters, no more painting on walls.

So, I took their advice with a kilo of salt, knowing they have my interests at heart and that for the next 15 years, my hands will be in their pockets. I do not want my inheritance to be cut off nor I found the idea of camping in the garden appealing. Besides, 12 years later, I had to be begging them for a car. So...I took the safe road, the higher road - I did not become a stripper, I live my parents' dream - made them proud and made myself so miserable a professional.

All I have to do now is be grateful for the blessings in life and grow up!!

6 phases of being in the Legal Profession

PHASE 1

You are listening to jazz -- Your first day at work is great. Your fellow co-workers are wonderful, your office is cute, and you love your clients !


PHASE 2

You are listening to pop music -- After a while you are so busy that you are not sure if you're coming or going anymore.




PHASE 3
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
You are listening to heavy metal -- This is what you feel like after ONE month.
 
 
PHASE 4
 

You are listening to hip hop -- You become bloated due to stress, you're gaining weight due to lack of exercise because you are so tired and have so much work to do and, when you do get home, you feel sluggish and suffer from constipation. Your fellow co-workers are too cheerful for your liking, your clients don’t understand a word you say and the walls of your office are closing in.

PHASE 5

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
You are listening to GANGSTA RAP -- After more time passes, your eyes start to twitch and you forget what a 'good hair day' feels like as you just fall out of bed and load up on caffeine.


PHASE 6
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Y ou are listening to the voices in your head -- You have locked your office door to keep people out. You wonder WHY you are even here in the first place and WHY you became a Legal Professional!

 

Just us

I have quite an obvious indifference on whether people likes me or not. I also think my Achilles' heel is probably my poignant intolerance towards humourless people lacking in intellect, emotion, empathy or character. The raison d'etre for my blatant sarcastic attitude is that - life is so short  and I shouldn't waste time with shallow idiots who make Paris Hilton sound like Mother Teresa.

I do need to work on how I relate to others. SM had a point when he said I needed to review my relationship skills. Look, I know I can sometimes shut down and give you that blank stare when my brain cells cannot make sense of the words that are coming out from you and I may have lapsed into the leagues of unintentional rudeness at times.

I have meet vastly different kind of people in my growing years (until I stop growing and became the small person I am today) and was exposed to a disapora of individual personalities. Now, I find myself to be more selective. refining the group of people I hang out with. or maybe the proper word is discerning.

Nick Hornby once said that it was no good pretending any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party. I think ours would. SM's idea of a great movie are characters who speak in a language that I can only understand if he translates them for me. Okay, I admit. There may be a slight communication breakdown. But I think I can relate to his record collections. Perhaps.


A small part of me tends to agree with this sentiment. The idea of being in a relationship with someone who shares my interests and similar perspective on life is warmly comforting. I tend to be very passionate about the things I love so there's a large part of me that wants to be with a man whom when I read a great book, hear an amazing song, watch a deeply moving film or discover a new restaurant, I can run up to him excitedly and yell, "Look what I found! This is US!" Then I suppose SM will just look up from my IPhone - take a 5 seconds pause - give me that sheepish you-are-just-so-cute polite smile and go back to killing whoever or whatever he is killing.

On the other hand, doesn't every couple start off by talking about all the things they have in common? And if the relationship doesn't last, don't you just end up thinking about all the ways you were so different? More importantly, isn't life much more interesting being with someone who not only has different interests but also brings a different perspective to life?

Although I think we get together with someone because they are similar with us in many aspects, share the same goals and visions and are interested in traipsing the journey together. I cannot emphasise it even more that my primary consideration of being with someone is because I can laugh with him.  I like to know after a long day at Planet workplace, I have someone to go back to and laugh about things, share a joke and lie in bed together giggling.

Perhaps the ideal goal of a relationship between two people isn't a merging of two individuals. On the contrary, maybe the healthiest long-term relationships accept that, even between the closest people, infinite distances exist and the key to happiness is to not only wholly love someone but also to be comfortable with the great expanse that inherently lies between you.


Honestly, I don't know what the future brings for me and I'll confess that there are times when this uncertainty makes me a tad nervous. Maybe then again, I just think damn too much.
 
Like Papa Walrus once said, I am too smart for my own good.

Jokerbird my pet crow

I went through a chronic phase once whereby I simply enjoyed doing things alone. I meant it. Alone. Just me, myself and I. Three of us but still alone. You get my drift. It started somewhere around after the Christmas breaks in England and lasted for awhile when I returned home. So for slightly under 18 months, I enjoyed going to the malls by myself, eating on my own, cooking on my own, watching tv by myself, taking walks in the park alone, slurping chai tea latte in my favourite coffeehouse on my own and taking long bus rides all by myself.

How did I even fell into this vacumm of solitude?

Well, once upon a time, in a land far away where the temperatures were as cold as your freezer and the people spoke in a funny accent, I had a pet crow (named Jokerbird) whom I love with all my heart and soul. Life was brilliant then, I tell you. I chirped and sang to it on a daily basis. Yes, I chirped and sang for the crow of mine not vice versa. I fed it with the finest bird feed and let it drank from Avian bottled water. However, much to my horror of horrors, my pet crow eventually got sick and tired of me and died. The unexpected death of my pet crow was traumatic. I found it difficult to get through the days without the chirping and singing. It was such an agonising period and there was such a huge void in my life that could not be filled then. No one could take my sorrows away and in my depressing state, I slipped into desolation.

Now - wasn't that touching? No? You peoples are so hard to please. I tell story, not only you all did not applaud but also failed to appreciate the literary depth of such a heartwarming tale. But it is okie. I am a very forgiving person. I understand how some of you did not go to my University in the North East of England and would be unable to appreciate the magnitude and impact of the death of my pet crow in my life. My Uni had Gordon Sumner, a.k.a. Sting and Jonathan Ive, a.k.a father of the Ipod.  That is enough said.

Sorry, I burned all pictures of Jockerbird when it left me all alone in this big wide world to fend for myself. Otherwise I could have shown you how shinny its feathers were when it was still alive and useless.

Anyway I have broken out of my routine of living in loneliness. I found solace in lame jokes and lame people.

Ahh, It's Moanday again!

Weekend flew by so quickly and even before I could say, "Ahh, I lurveee weekends", its Moanday already.

I am a pretty emo kiddo when its the weekday. I don't know about you but I wish I had a bottomless Cayman Island account (Oh, I do!!) to support my lavish lifestyle of La Mer facials, Milk Spa, Honey Caramel Hair Treatement and carviar for every meal. So while I am waiting for my wish to be granted, I still have to drag myself to Planet Workplace every day save for the weekends and the days when I can hardly crawl out of bed. In case you are wondering how I manage to wake up daily, stay alive at Planet Workplace and go back to bed - I am telling you this - it is no easy feat - I kid you not. Through forced repetition, I eventually became pretty good. Thereby, over the years, I have learnt to embrace my Moanday Blues with grace and a less cranky attitude.

During my Uni days, I told myself that if I miss the Moanday morning classes, I will fail that subject, not graduate, not fulfill my childhood fantasy of suing people and be a disgrace to the family clan so much so that my parents will throw me out of the house and I will not be able to afford my closet of designer clothings when I am 25. Yes, so with much persecution and sacrifices, I found myself bleary eyed sitting at the front rows of most lectures on every Moanday mornings for five years - silently chanting in my head - this is for the greater good. Want to know what happen?

I am in my ne plus ultra, a member of a profession most parents dream for their child but unfortunately for me, I am almost 25 and I still can ill-afford a closet of designer clothings. All those hours of torture listening to the dronning of old clever people talk about law did not bring Hermes or Dior knocking at my door. I should have just stuck to my childhood dream (Suing people is a childhood fantasy)  and be a stripper. I am pretty sure I would be able to confirm my status as an avatar of fashion chic.

I have yet to wisen up. I still follow the rules. I still step on my accelerator when the light turns yellow because yellow means "nyeh nyeh, the light is changing red soon!" and I still come to work every Moanday, even when I least want to because I have yet to find someone to pay my bills, feed me and clothe me. I also don't think anyone has yet to come up with a technology to make my car run on water. I also have not managed to psycho my parents to buy me my VW Beetle. Threatening to camp outside in my garden does not seem to work anymore with them as they get older. My closet is still very much void of portentous fabrics. So many wishes unfulfilled.

I think I am in need of a long holiday. One that will see me spend my entire trust fund in an attempt to set my own record for most luxurious holiday ever abroad in a semi-comatose state. This is another wishful thinking. Like I said earlier, wishes take a long time to come true.

Truthfully, I have another wish. I wish my Moanday scenarios would involve the following :-

kissing hubby dearest in the morning, ushering him off to bring home the bacon, going back to lie in my 100 thread Count Egyptian Cotton Sheet bed, having the butler serve me English breakfast in bed, getting up and look pretty, hitting the gym to maintain my bootylicious figure, catching up with my other pompous girlfriends, going for Volcanic Ash Thai Spa,bathing in lavender scented milk, looking sexy and showering hubby dearest with hugs and kisses when he returns home with the Bacon. 

Ahh, Bliss!

Alright, enough wishful thinkings. Since it is Moanday and we all have alot to do before the sun sets, y'all better go back to starring at your computer screens and wishing that time will fly by faster - I bid you all adieu and have a lovely Moanday till my next whinning and screaming.

My heart cries

That feeling of being with you, of being so close to happiness have been ephemeral. I was so close to reaching that famous happy ending, almost believing that what we share is not pretend. I cannot go on dreaming for I know I am. Romantic dreams must die.

Slowly, your hands are slipping out of mine.

We have grown apart and the feeling is no longer the same. You are now that stranger again I am trying to get to know. for everything we once shared, it felt so real, so true, so maddening that I stopped trying to process it - I just relegated myself to just feeling what felt right. I hunger now for tactile confirmation, for sensory input that all I felt is not just my imagination.

I gave myself reasons why I should not be attracted to you. I tried so very hard. Yet, the subtle truth was undeniable. I was falling in love. heart first. I found the best of me in your eyes. You, the rare and unexpected friend.

we forged a closed relationship. there were no channels of communications; lest one should offend the other. it was a relationship predicated on false presumptions and inaccurate assumptions. we were restricted by our perpetual walks on tippy-toes and prolonged moments of fragility. these were the circumstances i found myself stuck with. trapped. like a bull in a chandelier shop.

Yet, I continue to cling on, desperately trying to console my soul. desperately trying to hush down the whimpers of my heart. Truth be told, if you lean close enough, you can hear the beatings of my trepidation.

no matter how hard we try to be different, we still end up living life according to platitudes. there's just too many of them out there. for instance, i'm now coveting what i don't have... but i'm not going to deny myself that feeling. i should not let you have me. you just would not appreciate it.