Moving

So it's been 6 years since I started blogging as the Sassy Slumbering Girl.

What a name, seriously. Well, let's just call it an act cute moment. I couldn't find a blog name, I thought my short hair was sassy and I really loved to sleep. So, I became the Sassy Slumbering Girl.

Today, things are far from the same. Ok well, other than the fact that I still think my short hair is sassy, I don't care that much for sleeping anymore. Perhaps I've awakened to many new and important things in life, I don't see the need to laze in my slumber any longer.

And therefore, I'm moving. on.

If you don't know me (or don't know me well enough), but would like to continue to keep in touch with my writings, drop me an email at [email protected].

See ya!

There's a little bit of truth...

There’s a little truth behind every 'just kidding', a little curiosity behind every 'just wondering', a little knowledge behind every 'I don’t know', and a little emotion behind every 'I don’t care'.

Toilet conversations

Do you ever talk to yourself in the toilet? I do.

Sometimes I revisit and tweak answers that I should have given people. Other times, and mostly too, I imagine scenarios and rehearse my lines as if the scenarios were really happening.

Just last night, while I was showering, I imagined myself giving a talk to an audience, explaining why I went into social work. It all started with a question that an audience member posed me: "You are from an elite school. How would you relate to students of neighbourhood schools?"

I found myself saying that you had to discover what moves you, because that thing that moves you would give you a sense of purpose in doing that branch of social work, and give you reason to carry on. As I talked about what moved me, I found the tears coming.

We are all more alike in our human-ness than we think we are. We have universal desires and yearnings, and therefore what moves us is merely a representation of these universal themes that happen in human life. Connection, loss, acceptance, meaning, love, achievement, belonging... I may have grown up different from you, but really, I am alike with you than different.

Do you have conversations with yourself in the toilet? Start one today, and you may learn something new about yourself.

(Then again, maybe you might just think I'm crazy.)

Gabe Bondoc sings "Your Smiling Face" (James Taylor cover)

Youtube celeb Gabe Bondoc brings a smile to my face again, after a long hiatus :)

Deactivate

In an attempt to stop myself from following facebook updates of people I don't even care about, I decided to deactivate my facebook account.

Well, apparently "deactivate" is different from "delete". When you "delete", your whole account vanishes from the face of this earth. When you "deactivate", you simply make yourself invisible to the facebook world, but your account still exists. And get this, the moment you log in again, you're back on facebook, like nothing's ever changed. I mean, then why in the world have a "deactivate" option???

My whole purpose of deactivating was to create barriers for myself to get back on again, without the loss of friends/photos/info added by friends or myself. I can't bring myself to totally delete the account because some part of me already lives on facebook.

But with no barriers at all when my fingers assume a life of their own and type my email add and password to try (yes, just trying) to log in again? No extra dialogue boxes to fill out personal particulars again? No "if you deactivate your account 3 times it'll get deleted by the administrators" warning?

I mean, seriously, what is the point of the "deactivate" option?

It just doesn't make sense.

Birthday

Today I turn 31. As I lay in bed, sick with a bout of what I think should be gastric flu, I turn contemplative. Last night I received a surprise bouquet of flowers from two friends, and I was so touched I almost cried. Four years ago, I would have commented that the flowers were a waste of money because they would simply wilt and die in a matter of days. Practical me, with practical wants. Today, my heart leaps at embracing that short moment of beauty and spontaneity. A moment in time that words cannot capture, but only the heart can feel and appreciate. Sick with gastric flu, yes. I still couldn't resist the urge to walk over and smell the scent of the white lilies. I hope it lingers a while more...

Men

Jack Neo saga is the rage these days. Just waiting for woman #30 to make her appearance, ala Tiger Woods. Heard from somewhere that Jack's been appointed to make some movie for the Fathers For Life movement. Well, if that happens, it would be mockery.

We were having lunch at the office pantry a couple of days back, and my colleague shared that how children view their fathers is linked to how they see their fathers treat their own wives. Really, you could be such an involved father with the kids, but when the kids see your unfaithfulness to your own wife, how do you think they will see you? You really can't separate the two.

And then, we talked about how the Jack Neo saga has led many women to start warning their men to behave. Misbehave, and we will walk out on you - with the kids. My colleague said with a laugh, women always start with a threat right? I totally agree and I would do that too. Trust, once broken, can never be rebuilt.

The number of stories I hear of unfaithful men just keeps going up. Men, is it that difficult to stay faithful? To women, I say, protect yourselves. 

The New Year

Reunion dinner was steak and champagne, after which we sat the Singapore Flyer which almost lulled me into a bored kind of sleep. Visitation was to the same old folks' rental flat, where I devoured giam chye arh (duck with salted veg), ayam buah keluak and assam pork... a meal I had dreamed of the day before. Before that, I kinda fell asleep on the foldable chair, while some TV programme was flashing in the background with some hokkien-english conversation taking place between the older adults. Some minutes before that, my brother was fooling around along the corridor in my lil' cousin's sky-high neon purple platforms (he walks much better than I do in them, quite the natural). Today, I wake up with some memories, tinged mostly with talk about the IR. Yes, the IR. Some Indon guy gambled away $1,000, and got arrested for stealing someone's mobile phone at Changi Airport Terminal 1. I mean, it's only been three days since the IR opened, and we already have a crime. Lord, help us. But anyhows, CNY was not bad, especially so with family around. One year older with loved ones is always good for the soul.