Ah Choo!

Even when SARS was at its scariest, most people were not compelled to don masks when they were unwell.  And so, this is why I couldn't help but wonder the effectiveness of this public campaign of getting people to sneeze into a piece of tissue in public places and not use it to chope seats at foodcourts during lunch hour, or wipe their mouths thereafter...

It's my birthday!

And so it is, my birthday today, and I busk in the Lord's love for me.

Surely, I am greatly blessed, highly favoured and deeply loved, 

every day of my life!

Matthew 25:29

And of course it wasn't any surprise that today's devotional should be exactly, and I mean exactly, what I wrote about yesterday.  Coincidence, you say?  But I sure know this is divine intervention in its place...

Matthew 25:29

29 ‘For to everyone who has, more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who does not have, even what he has will be taken away.

...precisely because this parable is, ironically if you may, the very foundation the Matthew effect was based on.  The thing is this, I may be in the world, but I am not of the world.  While I may lament about the seemingly disparity in society, I stand steadfast in the Lord's love for me.  I know that I am greatly blessed, highly favoured and deeply loved, for He who did not spare His own son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? (NKJV Romans 8:32)  Need I say more?

The Order of Things?

Traditional Custom?

And you must know that my jaws dropped a good five inches when I was told at point-blank that a girl cannot, god forbids, stay with her parents in the bedroom she grew up in once she is married.  She is, of course, highly encouraged to live with her in-laws, or to rent a room from someone else, or if money is not an issue, to rent a flat elsewhere until flat ownership becomes an option.  That, or when she finally gets her hands on the long-awaited keys to her public apartment.  It's merely an upkeep of a Chinese custom, you say?  But to me, it's discrimination.

Egalitarianism, or not?

And you must know that I cannot not roll my eyes when I overheard at the water cooler that opportunities are given to old-timers because the people-in-charge, you know, the people with designations that begin with the letter D, are more comfortable with them than the newbies.  How does one make of having a proven track record if one is bypassed of an opportunity because s/he is new in the organisation?  Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't this in the like of nepotism, almost?

Mars or Venus?

And you must know that I couldn't help but wonder the plausibility of opposite attracts.  How does it work when the poles are fundamentally different?  And if John Gray were right, something must be inherently wrong because we have yet to start killing each other.

Natural Order of Things?

And I must admit I don't always get the natural order of things, like how my quality of life seems to be  diminishing despite living in one of the richest countries in the world, or like how wages have been stagnant for the longest time for especially the sandwich class despite being highly educated in a meritocratic society.  Of course, I also don't get why parents have no qualms telling their children to stop misbehaving in public because "that auntie/ uncle will scold you".

And at times, "You're welcome!" is something I need to hold my tongue to a stranger when something as simple as holding the lift door for him or her is taken for granted.

And at the end of the day, if you ask me, I reckon we may be rich, but we are poor...

Who's the Boss???

And just like the looming Facebook Timeline, the time has come (too early!) for one to be reminded that s/he is an active contributor to the nation's economic development.  As an occupational hazard, I would, at times, painstakingly remind (read: nag) students to be mindful not to waste resources as they're financed with tax payers' money, until one day, an unwitting comment...

"You have to pay taxes, right?  So, you are paying yourself to work!?"

Will you marry me?

And while it was not much of a surprise, it suddenly dawned on me that it was definitely harder than one could ever image.  "It's been ten years..." M lamented out of the blue this afternoon.  It took me a while to connect the dots but when I did ten seconds later, I realised that she hasn't let it go, not even after ten long years.

"...since he proposed."

Alas, it was a fairytale that stayed a fairytale, a love story that never really did come true.  And I could only guess the pain from the glisten in her eyes as she spoke about the bus ticket from 1995 with the scribbling I love you... or the plastic lunch box from McDonald's from eons ago where she kept every letter and card he'd written since the day they met, or how she'd noticed his relationship status change from Engaged to Married on Facebook, yet again.

And I couldn't help but wonder why ask "Will you marry me?" if it were never intended to be?

And it's yet another Chinese New Year...

The year is 2012.  The year financial analysts slated as the year of an impending drought, and intensity uncertain.  The year with the looming eurozone debt crisis and an impending US presidential elections (and consequences undefined).  The year where Singaporeans wrangled in parliament and on online plaftorms about political salary packages.  Ironically, this is also the year geomancers contended an auspicious year because this is afterall, the highly anticipated Year of the Water Dragon, which will not only bring forth a year of propserity to those who believe, but also a much needed boost to our flailing birth rate.  But whatever it is, I believe Chinese New Year is nothing without Jesus, and of course, Chinese New Year goodies!  Dig in, everyone...

Kung Hei Fatt Choy!

My first handbag...

2004 - 2011

Chrissy 2011

You know it's Christmas when you start getting pressies...

 Envirosax, my preferred choice.

It's Elmo!

You know it's Christmas...

when Toffee Nut Latte is in the house.

Beauty Fool

For the life of me, I don't even fancy green, yet I am drawn to the colour every time without fail.  I have, in my possession, a couple of green blouses, and two green dresses (but thankfully no green bottoms, yet).

And so, it didn't make sense now that I would visit my hairdresser, and inform her "I would like to perm my hair today."  Now, if I had paid attention to her raised eyebrow instead of greedily helping myself to the latest fashion magazines she'd plonked on my lap before she started the "procedure", I reckon I probably wouldn't look half like a dishevelled mop hair with fly-away hair sticking out in all the wrong places than I was to begin with.

But the damage is done, not just to the wallet but the image, for I was told this: "Ms Josephine, rebonding's better..."  And what's more convincing than the image-conscious eighteen-year-olds' staunch belief of what's good, and not?

'nuff said.  No more perms, ever!

So in love...

I think I am in love.

It's been a long time since I felt this way.  For the longest time, the purse, or handbag if you must, is but a handy accessory to hold all my other accessories, the 'junk' that I need to survive.  Short of being a mamak shop, the quintessential stuff I need to get through the day includes the lip balm, the packets of tissue, the emergency flu tablets, the purses (the wallet, the coin pouch, the card holder, you know?), the organiser and pencil case, the brolly and the ever-important water bottle.

Of course, despite the pragmatic function of the handy purse that may appear in the form of a shoulder bag, a tote, a messenger sling, a boho, just name it, the handy purse serves a greater function than just being the carry-all.  It is, (un)fortunately, a fashion accessory.

And so, when I set my eyes on this lambskin beauty last week, I knew it has to be it!  But at S$2260 a pop, 10 reasons Why I Gotta Have It! does not quite suffice.  Sure, I reckon I am in love with it now, but for how long?

Vote for Change?

Election fever!

And with an average of 20,000-strong rally crowd at almost every opposition  party's rally, I couldn't help but wonder if this were the impetus for the incumbent singing a, well, somewhat different song.  To many netizens, some (re)actions are too little, too late.

Me?  For one, I most definitely am put off by the superficial dangling of an S$80 million 'carrot'.  For another, I'm sure I am not the only one who was appalled by the 'vote wisely...or live and repent' threat by a highly revered public figure who has brought this little red dot to where we are thus far.  Every day, I would tell myself that I've had it with the human squeeze on the train or the near impossibility of owning my own apartment or car.  I have daily grouses of how the absence of a feeder bus service leaves me stranded at the bus stop every morning, how quickly the money in my wallet depletes or how meagre my salary is (believe me, it is!) despite being highly educated with a Master Degree, no less!

However, a rationale mind beckons for me to assess the bigger picture.  It is true some issues raised at the rallies of the opposition parties resonates with me, and possibly many, many fellow Singaporeans, and these are issues that are very, very real.  However, beyond having fun watching them calling each other names, using smear tactics and questioning the individual's integrity or sexual orientation, I couldn't help but wonder how many potential candidates actually want to serve the people and to be their voice.

Between absent-in-action and dubious agenda, which is the lesser evil?  Between personal grievances and national affairs, which is more important?

Will I vote for change?  Yes.  But I remind myself to vote wisely too.  Or maybe, I should practise drawing tortoises now...

The best, yet...

By my favourite nine-year-old,

and my favourite five-year-old,

and, beloved friends, HG and F, who still get my name wrong...

Trade-off?

Once again, I was caught off-guard with the question I loathe the most, well, one of questions I dislike.

The difference was that I surprised even myself with my response.

"It's nice to have a regular paycheck.  I've not worked for a while..." and I found my voice fading away.

Regular?  Now, would that mean normal?  Or common?  Perhaps approved?  Or commonplace?  What about correct or customary?  How about daily, established or everyday?  Or general, habitual, lawful, or legitimate?  And maybe natural, official, orthodox or proper?  Or routine, traditional or typical?  Or just usual?

No, wait, I've digressed.  You see, for a few days now, I found myself wondering about  its trade-off.

Sanity?

Maybe...

No, no biggie...

I remember very well, the phrase resounded in my mind that day, and that which I completely forgot today, much to my dismal - "Don't give away your joy".  There are good days and there are, well, not-so-good ones, and some days are just grayer than the others; a little gloomier, a little more unbearable, a little less tolerant.  Good days are days when I laugh things off.  My no biggie days, I call them, where I'll simply shrug it off even when the sky rumbles.  No biggie...

But, today is not one of those days.  Today is one of those days where Little Ms Porcupine's quills are provokedly aggressive.  To cut a long story short, I couldn't help but wonder if the sales associates forget that they're just working in the shop.

Now, four hours later, I remind myself that it is a privilege to be doing what one loves and making a decent living out of it.  And so, yes, I shall not give my joy away, and no, no biggie about not getting that beautiful dress akin to a midsummer's night dream.

Shhhh....

Who?  Me?

Yes.  Me.

Sometimes, I surprise even myself, as I find myself flabbergasted by the exuberance of my verbosity.  The past two weeks stood witness to my flustered state of mind due to an impertinent offline chat I had with a friend.  And I couldn't help but wonder if the abrupt cessation of the forthcoming messages was due to an inadvertent hint of neurosis that may have seeped through our conversation.  I would have loved to believe it as simply a figment of my imagination but he did not answer my question!

The thing is this: How could one be so strapped for time in fourteen days (and no, I did not count) that he can't drop a short note that says, "Crazy busy.  Catch ya later." or something in the like?  Where are the manners?

And of course, I am still waiting for the reply. =P

By Faith

There are times when I don't understand why some things happen in a certain way, or why certain things happen.  It's like this: I thought my Lord, God, will fulfill all my heart's desires, for now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that [I] ask or think, according to the power that works in [me] (Ephesians 3:20), but sometimes, I don't exactly get what I want or what I think I want.

There is, some sort of divine intervention, I'd always felt in my life that I can't explain.  But what I do know is that my faith is in Him and His plans for me, that God has planned something better for [me] so that only together with [me] would they be made perfect (Hebrews 11:40) as I keep my eyes on Jesus.

Eat, Pray, Love

EAT Chinese.  I fell in love with Chinese food at 27 when I moved to Hong Kong.  Before that, it was always Italian.  Oh, and McDonald's!  I simply cannot resist that deep-fried chips though everyone tells me it works against my waistline.

PRAYer interceded.  I prayed for long-lost childhood friends.  A connection, someway, somehow.  I wasn't sure how it was going to work, but I found some, or rather, they found me.  And I can't help but feel God's love for me.  It's amazing how my ludicrous wish can happen even after a 20-year hiatus.  God is simply awesome in His works!

LOVE life.  I figured I do not need a glamourous jet-setting lifestyle to love life.  To love life, I reckon, in simple terms, is to be a blessing to the people around me - my family, my friends and even strangers.  I know that I am blessed to be a blessing, the same way God blessed Abraham.  And I know that I love much because God first loved me.  And to that, I say Amen!

Say my name, say my name

"It all began in 1971 with a microscopic bacterium that was genetically altered to devour oil spills..."

The early morning witnessed the voluntary exploitation of my refreshed mind into editing what I consider impossibly profound texts for the tender 14-year-old.  I can almost see the thought bubble of Joe - Devour oil spill?  Huh?  Is it even edible?  So profound was it, with examples of DDT and Love Canal, that I had to succumb to Wikipedia (and no, though with all due respect to the people who are trying their utmost best to make the website as credible a source as it can be, I still don't trust it).

Inadvertently, I was reminded of an amusing conversation amid simplifying the abstruse articles.

"So, what do I call you?"

"How about my name?"

"Hmmm..."

And the conversation soon digressed to alien life-forms and the weather.

I couldn't help but wonder why the need to change the way of addressing someone when a relationship status changes.  No, don't get me wrong, terms of endearment in the like of honey, baby and darling are sweet, but my inquiring quotient is raised if one encounters extreme difficulty to address another by the name.

My name is Josephine or simply Jo, J-O without the E.  What's yours?