Last night was fraught with dreams. 3 in all. All had feelings of anxiety and tense-ness.
Dream #1
My granny decided that she wanted to go to Europe. By herself. At her current age of 94.
I remember her packing a lot of things. A lot of luggage. And she was trying to carry them all to the airport. I remember thinking how the hell was she going to survive the long flight there? Let alone carry all those bags of things? And how was she going to converse with the Europeans there? I remember being very worried about her having a cardiac arrest on board the plane……Sigh.
In reality, she’s in hospital again. And I was trying to plan for a trip to Europe at the end of the year. Put the two together and the above dream was what I got.
Dream #2
I dreamt of a Caucasian man named Chris. He was singing, albeit with a croaky voice, some old jazz song. He was drunk and got into an argument with someone else in the hotel lounge. It spiralled into a melee. Someone had his head smashed with a green beer bottle.
In reality, he’s a prominent figure in the domain name industry. An Australian with a caustic tongue at times but otherwise dedicated and passionate towards his cause.
Dream #3
It was a murder/crime scene again. Somewhat related to Dream #2 in that it was the same hotel. I don’t remember what I was doing in the hotel room. It was a suite. I was supposed to be investigating something when I came across a set of skeletal bones underneath a short flight of steps which led from the living room to the sleeping quarters. They were exposed because a tile had come loose and fallen off, revealing some sort of a crevice where the bones were. It was a female skeleton which was clutching a smaller skeletal frame, which I took to be of a young child’s. I remember a senior police officer coming by to take over the crime scene investigation. He was Caucasian and was dressed in a smart suit. He looked tres chic, as if he had just walked off a fashion runway. I couldn’t remember what else happened after that….
Damn it. The 3 crime novels I read over the last 2 months had such am impact on me?
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Bad Dream
I feel like as if I didn’t sleep at all last night.
I was tossing and turning for quite awhile.
And when I finally slept, I ended up dreaming. I don’t know whether to consider it a nightmare or what but I know that I was feeling very very tense.
I might be reading too many crime novels recently. Time to change to a different genre for now perhaps.
The dream was a very long-drawn one. It was a homicide scene. Two bodies involved. Chinese men. It was at a HDB block I think, or an apartment building or somewhere with a very large room accessible by various staircases.
The scene was complete with police barricades and tape. There were police technicians milling around, waiting for further instructions. Others were scanning the area for any signs of evidence.
I remember I was the one person at the scene of the crime who was appalled that the bodies weren’t covered up and I went to cover them up with black body bags. Big mistake cos when I went near to do that, I remember being quite horrified at the bloodied and slashed up corpses and the awkward positions they were in. The men had crew cuts and were probably in their 20s or 30s.
And I remember feeling nauseous and choked up by the horrible rich and warm iron-copper smell of the big big pool of blood which had congealed beneath the bodies.
I think I was one of the detectives on duty. I remember trying to console the family members of the two men and carrying a young boy who was the child of one of the victims. The family members were somehow all seated on thick piles of mattresses. Some women were sobbing but most of them were just sitting there looking bewildered and not speaking.
I remember there was another detective who was following me around like a puppy, apparently enamoured with me. He kept saying that he wanted to go home with me and meet my mother.
I cannot remember what else happened after that but I remember running, chasing and being chased along corridors and staircases.
One of those dreams where you’re tensed and on edge all through it.
I woke feeling super uneasy. And I woke up wayyyyy before my alarm sounded again.
Couldn’t get back to sleep after that. Argh.
I miss K :(
*wails*
I was tossing and turning for quite awhile.
And when I finally slept, I ended up dreaming. I don’t know whether to consider it a nightmare or what but I know that I was feeling very very tense.
I might be reading too many crime novels recently. Time to change to a different genre for now perhaps.
The dream was a very long-drawn one. It was a homicide scene. Two bodies involved. Chinese men. It was at a HDB block I think, or an apartment building or somewhere with a very large room accessible by various staircases.
The scene was complete with police barricades and tape. There were police technicians milling around, waiting for further instructions. Others were scanning the area for any signs of evidence.
I remember I was the one person at the scene of the crime who was appalled that the bodies weren’t covered up and I went to cover them up with black body bags. Big mistake cos when I went near to do that, I remember being quite horrified at the bloodied and slashed up corpses and the awkward positions they were in. The men had crew cuts and were probably in their 20s or 30s.
And I remember feeling nauseous and choked up by the horrible rich and warm iron-copper smell of the big big pool of blood which had congealed beneath the bodies.
I think I was one of the detectives on duty. I remember trying to console the family members of the two men and carrying a young boy who was the child of one of the victims. The family members were somehow all seated on thick piles of mattresses. Some women were sobbing but most of them were just sitting there looking bewildered and not speaking.
I remember there was another detective who was following me around like a puppy, apparently enamoured with me. He kept saying that he wanted to go home with me and meet my mother.
I cannot remember what else happened after that but I remember running, chasing and being chased along corridors and staircases.
One of those dreams where you’re tensed and on edge all through it.
I woke feeling super uneasy. And I woke up wayyyyy before my alarm sounded again.
Couldn’t get back to sleep after that. Argh.
I miss K :(
*wails*
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Anecdote
Three of us brought a new temp out for lunch today. A very young girl. 19 and still studying in poly. It was her first day with us and we were having drinks at Killiney Kopitiam after lunch.
Us: How’s the first day so far? Are you reading up some of the policy documents?
She: Yes, I’m reading. There’s quite abit to read.
Us: Better read properly yah. There’ll be a test for you in the afternoon.
We meant it to be a joke and we were laughing to ourselves…She took it seriously though and asked us…..
She: Will it be an open-book test?
Us: *momentarily stunned*
And then we broke out into peals of laughter…HAHAHAHAHAHA…...
Ah, the innocence of youth.
We did not expect her to ask us that question at all and were caught by surprise. I felt abit bad though because she turned red-faced when we all burst out laughing. Haha. :D
Us: How’s the first day so far? Are you reading up some of the policy documents?
She: Yes, I’m reading. There’s quite abit to read.
Us: Better read properly yah. There’ll be a test for you in the afternoon.
We meant it to be a joke and we were laughing to ourselves…She took it seriously though and asked us…..
She: Will it be an open-book test?
Us: *momentarily stunned*
And then we broke out into peals of laughter…HAHAHAHAHAHA…...
Ah, the innocence of youth.
We did not expect her to ask us that question at all and were caught by surprise. I felt abit bad though because she turned red-faced when we all burst out laughing. Haha. :D
Monday, September 13, 2010
Saturday evening
I had a fruitful (but somewhat lonely) 2.5hours on Saturday evening. I managed to grab a quick dinner, buy a pair of ballerina flats, get a skincare set and also find 3 French storybooks and 2 English books from Kinokuniya.
The book covers have been lovingly wrapped in plastic already. :)
The flats are still sitting in the shoe box awaiting their first day out.
And the skincare set is also still in their packaging….
I told K if this goes on, then he’d better come back to SG soon. Hahaa..
The book covers have been lovingly wrapped in plastic already. :)
The flats are still sitting in the shoe box awaiting their first day out.
And the skincare set is also still in their packaging….
I told K if this goes on, then he’d better come back to SG soon. Hahaa..
The blues
I feel like throwing a tantrum in office now. Or a “hissy fit” as the Brits call it.
How nice it would be to smash some windows, break the copier machine, spray graffiti on the walls, throw the contents of rubbish bins all over the floor, slash the window blinds, break some chairs, whack the fax machine into submission, punch some people, pluck out the stuffing from the cushion at the main door………
Oh friggin Monday blues.
How nice it would be to smash some windows, break the copier machine, spray graffiti on the walls, throw the contents of rubbish bins all over the floor, slash the window blinds, break some chairs, whack the fax machine into submission, punch some people, pluck out the stuffing from the cushion at the main door………
Oh friggin Monday blues.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
9/11
I watched a little of a documentary last night.
It was a special feature on phone voicemail recordings which families received from their relatives who were trapped in the twin towers on September 11, 2001.
Eac year for the past nine years, a documentary related to the event is shown on television. Each year I happen to catch several minutes of a documentary programme on the incident. And each time round, the interviews with families and rescue workers alike never fail to make me tear.
I remember the time when it happened. It was late at night and I was in my hostel room. Block 15 of NTU hall 1. Room 226 to be exact.
My TV was on the floor and it was on. I was packing up my room and listening to Channel News Asia. I was soon crouched in front of the TV with my eyes glued to the screen, watching the live footage of the events happening at the site.
I was one of the rare few who had a TV in their room. Before long, neighbours from along my corridoor and even some from downstairs were camped in my room watching the news. The rambunctious atmosphere when you pool a group of young folks together was not there that night for sure.
I digressed.
Anyway.
I guess something so horrific and painful would be remembered for many more years to come, especially by the families of the victims.
My silent regards and best wishes to them. From this corner of the world.
It was a special feature on phone voicemail recordings which families received from their relatives who were trapped in the twin towers on September 11, 2001.
Eac year for the past nine years, a documentary related to the event is shown on television. Each year I happen to catch several minutes of a documentary programme on the incident. And each time round, the interviews with families and rescue workers alike never fail to make me tear.
I remember the time when it happened. It was late at night and I was in my hostel room. Block 15 of NTU hall 1. Room 226 to be exact.
My TV was on the floor and it was on. I was packing up my room and listening to Channel News Asia. I was soon crouched in front of the TV with my eyes glued to the screen, watching the live footage of the events happening at the site.
I was one of the rare few who had a TV in their room. Before long, neighbours from along my corridoor and even some from downstairs were camped in my room watching the news. The rambunctious atmosphere when you pool a group of young folks together was not there that night for sure.
I digressed.
Anyway.
I guess something so horrific and painful would be remembered for many more years to come, especially by the families of the victims.
My silent regards and best wishes to them. From this corner of the world.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Fleeting thoughts
Little thoughts zipping here and there.
Touch and go. Touch and go.
I can almost see them.
Like little water boatmen.
Skittering across the surface of a small lake.
Leaving silvery tendrils in their wake.
I’ve caught some.
But most have seeped through my fingers.
What I have I share.
In the little snippets that follow.
========
I am not trying to be racist or anything. But I’ve noticed that most Indians, especially those who have studied overseas, are good conversationalists.
========
I am a simple girl with simple needs. I don’t ask for much. Or at least in my opinion I don’t demand for much. So why do I sometimes feel like I’m missing out on something, somewhere somehow.
========
I won’t get to speak to K today. Not until tomorrow morning. It’s been a week. I didn’t realize it. Times does fly past when you occupy yourself with things.
He’s been surviving on bread and pasta and oranges. But he just bought some chicken fillet and chopped bacon. I hope he’s getting enough nutrients.
========
I think I’ve grown more assertive over the years. But it is not enough. And I still feel uncomfortable in being assertive in anyway.
Chloe feels this too.
========
Sometimes, I miss my straight hair. Haha.
========
Kel told me he saw me running yesterday night. Haha. He was in a friend’s car and was going past me. It must have been an unglam sight because I wasn’t doing too good yesterday. Running with a slight diarrhea was definitely not a good idea. I had to stop several times as I felt quite breathless.
========
I want to go home on time today. Granny’s in hospital again. I need to go CGH after work and then see where I can grab some dinner first before going home. Was thinking of hiding in a corner of a café, armed with a plate of steaming hot pasta and my book.
========
It’s a rather cold day. I am wrapped up in a jacket. With the sleeves of another woolen cardigan covering my forearms, and a blanket over my legs. My fingers still feel stiff though.
========
In the little snippets up above.
What I have I’ve shared.
So it’s back to the work and daily grind.
And I do hope functionality engages my mind
For if it is not to be the case
Then I will find myself back in the first space.
Like little water boatmen.
I can almost see them.
Touch and go. Touch and go.
Little thoughts zipping here and there.
Touch and go. Touch and go.
I can almost see them.
Like little water boatmen.
Skittering across the surface of a small lake.
Leaving silvery tendrils in their wake.
I’ve caught some.
But most have seeped through my fingers.
What I have I share.
In the little snippets that follow.
========
I am not trying to be racist or anything. But I’ve noticed that most Indians, especially those who have studied overseas, are good conversationalists.
========
I am a simple girl with simple needs. I don’t ask for much. Or at least in my opinion I don’t demand for much. So why do I sometimes feel like I’m missing out on something, somewhere somehow.
========
I won’t get to speak to K today. Not until tomorrow morning. It’s been a week. I didn’t realize it. Times does fly past when you occupy yourself with things.
He’s been surviving on bread and pasta and oranges. But he just bought some chicken fillet and chopped bacon. I hope he’s getting enough nutrients.
========
I think I’ve grown more assertive over the years. But it is not enough. And I still feel uncomfortable in being assertive in anyway.
Chloe feels this too.
========
Sometimes, I miss my straight hair. Haha.
========
Kel told me he saw me running yesterday night. Haha. He was in a friend’s car and was going past me. It must have been an unglam sight because I wasn’t doing too good yesterday. Running with a slight diarrhea was definitely not a good idea. I had to stop several times as I felt quite breathless.
========
I want to go home on time today. Granny’s in hospital again. I need to go CGH after work and then see where I can grab some dinner first before going home. Was thinking of hiding in a corner of a café, armed with a plate of steaming hot pasta and my book.
========
It’s a rather cold day. I am wrapped up in a jacket. With the sleeves of another woolen cardigan covering my forearms, and a blanket over my legs. My fingers still feel stiff though.
========
In the little snippets up above.
What I have I’ve shared.
So it’s back to the work and daily grind.
And I do hope functionality engages my mind
For if it is not to be the case
Then I will find myself back in the first space.
Like little water boatmen.
I can almost see them.
Touch and go. Touch and go.
Little thoughts zipping here and there.
Friday, September 03, 2010
It's been 3 days
A shell provides an excellent home for hermit crabs, snails, clams, oysters, abalones, cockles….you get the drift.
I’m retreating into my shell for awhile. K left for Nice 3 days ago and I find myself missing him terribly and wondering if he’s taking good care of himself over there. And…I find myself suddenly with some spare time also.
Spending some time alone for the coming two to three weeks (or maybe even longer) seems like a nice way to take things slow, especially with work being on a ramp-up and possibly being hectic in the next 2-3 months.
Let’s see…..I can…
Read my books. Spend some time wandering in malls with a little bit of shopping thrown in. Run. Skype with K. Sit in a corner of a café reading or observing the world going by. Blog. Do some research for my year-end trip. Visit Kinokuniya and Borders. Take some time to breathe a little slower. Get up to speed on French again. Go for my facial and massage. Take care of my terrariums. Do some art and craft.
Ok, seems like a lot to do already haha. :)
And then after that...I'll probably throw in some meet-ups with close friends. :D Some long overdue dates....haha..
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