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March 23 'Sweating Out'It is possible to hear yourself sweat. It doesn't happen instantly. First, you become aware of the mettalic hum of the nearby speakers. Then, comes the forlorn rattle of ice cubes in cocktail glasses, then the subtle but unmistakably self-conscious clearing of throats. And then comes a terrifying symphony of creaks, groans, squeaks, scrapes and shuffles you never noticed before, all pouring out of that pitiless black void in front of you.
And then - in the moment, you're absolutely sure of this - you can feel and hear the beads of sweat erupting, like the sound of bubble wrap popping. It's pure, exquisite agony.
I felt that when I played the piano piece during assemblies. I noticed my face heating up like Rudolf's Nose, knowing fully well that I'm lighting up my pores with Cycloptic beam. Heh. But I was controlled in the second assembly and regardless of the mass, I released myself.
"Where there is total absence of yourself beauty is"
March 21 Oh. My. God.Whoo-ee!!! I just came back from a debating seminar held in King's College, and it was certainly held in a lecture hall. King's people are so rich! (I mean, like, ancient buildings that looked like it managed to hold on and ride out the harsh conditions of modernization; or they are very well-preserved) Either way, this entry log is not about how King's have acres of land to themselves with dorm buildings, almost university-campus-like (but smaller, like a little town obscured in the slums of suburbs) and cute british-y lampposts which my friend, Kate, dubbed 'fairy lights'.
So! The demonstrated debate was rather lively, but not quite, and yet, they hold a very huge amount of tension. Translation: They were speaking so quickly that I was sure they lost it or I lost it as I try to stay on the edge of my seat and absorb all that is said. I mean, whoa! I admire people who speak fast, yet with definite clarity; but not going too fast a pace would be suitable for the standard audience. I was rather strummed by the fact that they could squeeze so many words, key points, 'No, thank you', 'Yes, I accept' phrases of the Point of Information people...
I am clichely speaking, speechless. I was in awe, but not dropping-down-on-my-knees-worshipping. Seriously, what do you take me for?
What I meant by Point of Information is when one person from a team is speaking, the other person from the other team would say, "Point of information!" out very loudly with some 'funny' gestures (think early men tipping their hat when they pass a gentlewoman). The point is, these are used to either break the flow of your 8-minute speech or make you lose track of what you were going to say via continue on. It is very distracting and rather rude. As distasteful as it sounds, it is necessary to utter those three nasty little words now and again to frustrate the opponent.
Guess what? Impromptu debating's next Wednesday! Yay!
Am I so looking forward to it? March 17 "Busting A Gut""Busting my gut" is my dad's most used phrase; he uses it when the emotional pain he felt was too much in him. He told me that he had been spiritually empty before he found God, but still, the trials and tribulations of life needs a courageous shoulder to bear. He has been discriminated and facing stress in his workplace, he has to come home to an unresponsive wife (and I'm not talking about sex here, guys; it's a matter of language) and has to deal with my teenage dramas and angst from me. I truly believe that he was in a vicious cycle, a turn of change has slowly surfaced, breaking old habits.
My dad is a remarkable man, someone whom I turn to for advice, someone with implicit and explicit knowledge to share, someone with reasonable lectures and arguments, someone who encourages and speaks from the heart; My dad tells no lies in the family. He is honest, direct and forthright.
His way of educating me through persuasion, diplomacy and experience has brought me as I am today, developed naturally in my own time, given sufficient freedom. I marvel at how he taught me to be independent in general, to be able to speak out, and also to be emotionally wise (I would not conform easily to the pressures from society e.g. sex, peer pressure etc.), yet still he would holding on protectively, providing a safety net always.
Always receiving me no matter the time....
He loves me and would do anything, even sacrifice for me. He has done so much.
I need to treat him better, and not always lose my patience with him. For what he's going to say or explain, are gems that could be of value to me in the future.
Ah, the sun has come out through the thick misty haze. It is a time of reflection, a time of realisation, a time to break the cord, a time to pull the plunge.
There is nothing to lose if we show love to our family. There is nothing to lose by saying "I love you" to your blood and flesh. There is nothing to lose to embrace them and show affectionate gestures to the ones you love.
Because deep inside, they truly appreciate what you've been doing and showing all along.
Give your dad a hug today, no matter their response. Just hug them tight and pour your emotion into this praise, "You are a remarkable man. I love you."
Say and do that to your mother as well. March 16 Competitions and PerformancesWell, well, well.
Look who's back.
Me.
^.^
Right'io! Let's get on to what I'm going to write.
Heh. (Sorry, I'm in a terrific jumpy mood; although it doesn't make much sense)
Anyway, I had a Race Unity Speech Competition last Wednesday night. I was nervous, because I'm afriad I'll forget my lines, goof up when I'm in the limelight and well... I just prepared the speech two nights ago. I practised speaking to myself, friends and family just for a few minutes before I went to the designated location: 40, Vermont Street, Ponsonby (St. Columbia Centre).
To my surprise, we were seperated into three rooms, so only about 20 people in one room. As you probably guessed, it was female-dominated. I made friends with the candidates, talked to a finalist last year, Ipshita, an apparently debating champion (as told by Lee), Tracey, the youngest competitor, Carey (girl) from EGGS and Rikki, who just transfered to MAGS. You'd probably noticed the abbreviations, e.g. I'm from MRGS. So, yup, for those not in NZ, EGGS stand for Epsom Girls Grammar School and MAGS for Mount Albert Grammar School.
Well. (Gee, I'm doing lots of 'well's) Me being the 5th speaker, everything was in place. At the final course of the competition, we had to wait for the judges to deliberate. Our room took the longest time whilst the other two rooms were like dismissed in what a few minutes after the winners were announced. Oh, yea, it's just a regional heat. If you get to the next round, you'll be competing nationally.
I have to say I did great! :P Not my first time speaking in front of people, but definitely the first time under tense competition pressure and also in front of the small section of strangers in the world. So, I console myself with the idea that if I goofed up, no one will remember 10 years down the road.
I did really well. :P I didn't get through, but I got good reviews, proudly announcing certain words such as 'powerful beginning, passionate, sincerity' etc. Ain't it wonderful? :D
The next day, I was invited to perform a music item in both assemblies (To my M'sian friends: We have two assemblies here because Butler Hall wasn't large enough to fit all 2300 students). So, I was wracked with uncertainty and nervousness the night before and the following day. It's understandable that I got some minor mistakes in a popular film thematic song.... Grr. My muscles were tensed. I did great in the second assembly.
Wanna know the song? I bet you do.
It's Titanic's theme song, Celine Dion's best. Oh, and it was arranged and handwritten by my M'sian piano teacher back home. Kudos, sir!
March 07 Cancerous TumourA few weeks ago, I was suspected to be a smoker by a couple of doctors and a radiologist.
As from the radiologist's report: A coarse band of density in the right midzone which is probably post inflammatory scarring. Otherwise, lungs and pleural spaces are clear. Cardiac, mediastinal and hilar contours are normal.
It was a shock to me. I knew it wasn't what it was expected, but the report was there. My dad and mom was awfully worried. The radiologists discussed among themselves, rang up a doctor and sent us there. The doctor, Mr. Stone, said 'I'm sure she'll be fine' and then told us that he would seek another doctor's advice of my X-ray print. It wasn't traumatic, fretful or depressing for me, but I can sense anxiety levels shooting up like high-blood pressure patients in my dad. My mom spoke in Cantonese, "Why do you have so many things?" (literal translation)
Her comment did cause a pang in me, and I began to feel guilty. I was worried on future medical costs as I don't want to burden my family with more expenses. We're trying to save up for a house and my education, and I know my parents spent a lot on me (music, my face, general well-being, health, school etc.) That was the first sign of remorse.
Later in the day, I shut myself in my room and studied, trying to distract myself from a sense of loss. Softly, I prayed; I did not cry, I prayed. After that, I just went out to get myself a drink of water; my dad called me in. He showed me the information he gathered from the Internet on lung-related problems. I didn't want to hear about it - first sign of withdrawal. Then, my dad accused me of not being anxious or health-conscious of my own body. He said that publicly in the doctor's office in Cantonese, so no one would understand except us.
Sigh. I understand the fraught from my dad and the silent concern from my mom (though she doesn't say it; sometimes I'm not sure what she's feeling).
Then, I began to think whether I should tell my friends and boyfriend. I thought of the doctor telling me I have 'six months to live'. If it were so, I wonder if the friends I told would be willing to book a flight to Auckland just to see me. Real friendship would be tested then. But if I were to face a situation like this, I would not have want to afflict or saddle my friends with worry... especially not my boyfriend. So, I kept quiet and told only acquaintances, friends with no strong attachments yet. I did just that and managed my week with optimism and unfaltering smiles, just confining myself into a few hours of seclusion when I felt like thinking. I am proud that I've managed to uphold my stance.
I was positive that my body would repair itself, but it would take time. It's just a scarring anyway, the source unknown (although I have a few sneaky suspicion of second-hand smoke).
The Good News is that I've got word that it was a false alarm!You couldn't believe how relieved I was to hear that! Sure it was rather dramatic for a while to think that I was inflicted with this tragedy, like the main character in the world. :P But in the end, I'm grateful that none of my worst fears came true. People like to imagine themselves as the tragic victim, but would want to come out alive at the end; that's normal histrionic behavior.
Finally, I'm ready to tell everyone my story. March 05 Still GoingA friend is someone who shares with you a smile, a tear, a hand.
No modern medicine or meditation has quite the same healing effect as a friend. Friends can take the space once occupied by loneliness and fill it to the brim with partnership and purpose. Isolation is replaced by delightful companionship. (That's where the 'delights' come in into my MSN url: alycedelights). I like putting a smile on people even if it means making myself look like a fool, but not like a complete idiot. You know what I mean anyway. Heartache... is healed by the joy and satisfaction of camaraderie.
Hugs for FriendsIn the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. - Kahlil Gibran
Is there anything more pleasant than the voice of a friend when we're feeling the full weight of failure and frustration? That sound alone can bring hope to a surrendered heart.
Is there anything more comfortable than the arm of a friend steadying us when we become weak-kneed from the stress and strain of life's weight on our shoulders? That helpful arm serves to remind us that we don't have to face tomorrow alone.
Friends seem to appear out of nowhere when we need them the most - to reinforce us for unexpected or extended battle. They come without fear for themselves, because they know sacrifice is part of friendship. They come to walk with us, side by side and step by step, until we find a way to defeat the enemy.
Every time a friend rescues us at just the right time, another memory is made. Celebrate those memories often. Life those diamond-bright moments to the light and be thankful for the pressures that brought them into existence. Above all, don't forget to thank God. He was the one who knew exactly the right time to send you a friend. |
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