Category Archives: Uncategorized

Max at 1 week!

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It is amazing how this little creature has made me see past the difficult labor (traumatic, really, if I am looking at an outsider’s POV), and realise that it was all worth it. He is tiny, but I am at a loss for words on how he sums up the whole meaning of life!

This is him in his first week. A bit grouchy in the photo but otherwise a perfect angel. As of writing, he is already at 48 weeks so it will be it interesting to document his growth ❤

Four years and a lifetime 

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Serendipity, coincidence, or destiny. 

I am not sure what to call it but I find having my last post dated 13 July 2013 and having my baby’s first birthday on 13 July four years later insanely magical, as if a pumpkin turned into a golden carriage right before my eyes! 
Just goes to show that a lot of things can happen in a blink of an eye. I might even win the lottery today and have an entirely different life next week.

So, it has been 4 years, three countries, two continents, and a jam-packed adventure since my last entry. I read through my previous ones and think that my rants are all immature. Ah, how different my future blogs will be from now on! 

Meanwhile, here’s my little angel, almost exactly one year ago.

Yikes! 1 month awreaydy!

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My counting prowess (or lack of it) would surely make my Nursery Math teacher cringe. I stopped at Day 5, or 5 days before I went back to Philippines, and forgot the next series of numbers after 5. And now I have been home for almost a month already. Jeez. Will update that one of these days, thanks to the free WiFi our neighbor has (un)consented for us to use.

Meanwhile, I’m still praying for this elusive enlightenment. I’m bartering with the gods to give me a month’s worth of constipation just to overcome the suspense of what’s to happen in the next weeks.

If other people can win the lottery, surely I can have this one little wish come true.

Random thoughts on a Monday

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Bum-mer. 

Who ever said that being a bum is the best job in the world ought to be slapped a thousand times. Only 11 days and already my entire body is seriously clamouring for some work to be done. I feel as if in a few more days of listlessness my brain cells would eventually reach a melting point. Yeah, true that we wish to be free from work pressure while we are employed, but that wish, I learned, should never be taken seriously longer than just that exact moment. Can’t wait for this torture to end and the new torture to begin.

Candy Crush Crushes.

Please. Please. Please. The last thing this game app needs to be is a platform for flirting. When someone gives you a life or even invites you to play the game, it is never tantamount to inviting you for a date, or should not be misconstrued as flirting.

Please control your hormones.

 

 

Make it work!

As Tim Gunn of Project Runway would always say, “make it work!”

I’ll try – no, scratch that – I’ll make this day productive, as woozy as I may feel. Soon as I get my ass up, I’ll run to the clinic to get medicines, go to the remittance center to get my money, then maybe color my hair, then go home and finish writing my $500-gig. As my boss would always say, “Make things done, get things happen.”

Let’s do this.

And I saw the sign…

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Nope, I don’t do karaokes. Unless you’d like to go deaf for the rest of your life. Let me explain the title.

As of writing, I am still jobless and still waiting – courting, even – for my love job to get back to me. Seeing as I am at the crossroads of my life, I made a deal with the gods above – Roman,Greek, Catholic, Indian, Chinese, etc – to give me a sign whether I should wait or move on. This was on a Thursday. I didn’t see the sign during that day which, mind you, was too specific the probability is very unfavourable to me. This was to see our store’s bus on the street. Currently, we have only two buses all throughout Singapore going on specific roads at different timings with which I don’t have access – at least the timings and where it’s currently at. Well, there are about at least 10 buses of the same bus number (please refer to Singapore bus routes for more understanding). And oh, there are about 17,046 buses in Singapore as of 2011, so the chances are really, really, really low…

I opened my Facebook and saw one of my managers post the photo of the bus and asked myself, is this the sign I have been waiting for? After a few more hours of wandering into the city running little errands, I opened my Facebook and saw another manager post another photo of our bus. Picture this – I’m desperate, very stressed, and very willing to believe that this is the sign I have been waiting for. But then, since this is just, maybe, an alternative, an indirect way of convincing me, I asked for an extension. Just one final day to see if this will happen or not.

Nope, this is definitely not what I meant by “I saw the sign.”

WP_000306Friday. I left home at around 3:30pm and had to rush somewhere near my previous office to meet with one of my bosses based from another country. Catch up and you know, give me my present from New York. Yay!

By the time we finished, it was already 5:00pm and I had to rush to my boyfriend’s office before 5:30pm, I forgot all about the sign. It was already a short time to try to look for it, and where I’m going to is not part of the route. Well, I know about the area the buses go to since I recommended it. So probably the photo in Facebook is all the sign I’m looking for. Sometimes, we just have to be contented with what we have.

Suddenly, while talking to my Mom on an overseas call, I saw a bus design that I have stared at countless times during the time we were getting it approved.

I saw the sign!

I tell you, I felt as if I won the lottery during that time. I know that the manifestation of my sign is by no means any indication of what’s to happen or that it can be a scientific hullabaloo for the things to come, but hey, surely someone up there is listening to me. Or maybe just playing pranks and laughing at my expense. But anyway, this made me happy. And optimistic. Whether it does or does not merit any truth, I’ll definitely write about it. But as of now, this placebo is enough to get me going.

In the meantime, join me in badgering the gods above to answer my prayers. 

One painful step towards evolution from laminated to digital

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My boss once said, “why do I have to pay them if they are taking my blood? It should be the other way around!”

I couldn’t agree with him more, but that’s not how things work in a clinic. Tsk tsk.

After a long weekend, my Monday started unconventionally. Blood was drawn out. Pain was inflicted. And out came $35 from my wallet and into the cash registrar of the ever-friendly nurse.

Working in a foreign country means that one has to have a valid work pass, and since mine’s about to expire by January of next year, the company decided to have my renewal early so as to remedy complications or problems should there be a need to do so.

Unfortunately, in order to change my laminated work pass into the new and digitalized one, I had to face one of the worse inventions of mankind (at least in my opinion)  – the syringe. Enjoying the memoirs of Anne Rice’s bloodsuckers from the Vampire Chronicles doesn’t mean I enjoy having the life of me sucked out and transferred to a small tube (of course that may be an exaggeration). Chanting “I’m a big girl now” repeatedly as a form of pep talk wasn’t working for me, especially when it got too loud for others to hear. But. I. Had. To. Do. It.

So, I went early to the polyclinic and queued for quite a while before the auntie over the queue kiosk informed me that, alas, the polyclinics do not perform the HIV testing anymore. That was one queer moment when relief and disappointment ironically hit me at the same time. Relief that I got to save a few ounces of my blood for a while, and disappointment that I have to face the same ordeal – this time it’s for real –  in less than an hour.

A few bus stops away and I reached a small private clinic who, with all force, insisted that I do all the tests in the generic check up form even when my approval letter only states that I do testing for HIV only. To explain, I have had Tuberculosis, chest xray, and general check up within two years, so by right, I really don’t have to do them all over again which is why my In Principle Approval (IPA) Letter only indicates the requirement for blood testing. Called my boss afterwards and was told that I’d be spending more than a hundred for unnecessary tests; so I took my papers and puncture-less arm with me and went to the neighboring clinic.

The clinic located just three shops away had a friendlier doctor who didn’t see me as an opportunity to draw more than just blood. I appreciated the fact that he opted for small talk will sticking the needle to my effortlessly found vein (I am horizontally challenged ie thin, by the way).  Either he was really friendly, or I was really mortified. I went to office in one piece, though, and will be picking up the results on Wednesday morning. This is one of those tests you wish you would fail. Haha.

Aesthetic Freedom in Facebook

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With just one scroll of the mouse, I managed to annoy myself big time by seeing two pictures posted by random contacts in my Facebook.

One is a closeup of a child’s bum with diapers drawn down plastered with mushy, gooey, and ridiculously orangey yellow substance that though I do have as well, would prefer not to see – especially if it belongs to another person. What if I happened to be eating in front of my computer while mindlessly browsing through my wall? The vivid picture surely isn’t appetizing.

Just two posts down is an extreme closeup of a relative of whoever while taking his final rest inside his coffin. I could almost imagine him asking if he can grab that photo and make it as the primary picture of his Facebook. Jeez. Sure, the internet is free for all and it can get as democratic as it virtually can, but please please, bear in mind that having a little stop sign with the posts can do wonders for the sanity of others. When can we say that posting in Facebook can be a little too much?

I guess, we won’t be able to say this at all. The best gauge would probably be to put yourself in someone else’s shoes: how would you feel if shit stares you in the face?