Give me a chance to miss you

I was driving home and heard this song on the radio where the lyrics caught my attention, '...go away, give me a chance to miss you...'   It made me think of all the relationships we have where not only familiarity breeds contempt. So does constant closeness and too much intimacy too, breeds contempt, that is. Likewise too much love and care can also breed contempt at times. Interesting, aye?

So I pondered, just fleetingly of all my relationships with family, friends and also love interests. I've always been hot on pursuit of people I want to know and spend more time with...could be in the form of being supportive or perhaps just in my mind a project to fix (sounds bad, but I'm not intentionally trying to fix, but to basically help people to come out of a rut). When I get all the attention I wanted or have found myself doing all that I could do, in contribution or in any support, all I want to do is to move on and break free. Isn't that odd?

I was once told by an old friend that I'm very passionate of people, absolutely loving and caring for them but can drop people quite quickly too. Hence I hurt people terribly. It's almost like love them and leave them in the end. Not very good, aye?

Nevertheless, I think of all my intense exposure to and interest of people or even things, I need space to breathe. Turn my back and walk away for a breather and then come back again as I've given it a chance to air, so that I can miss them, and love and care for them just as passionately. Perhaps that's why the lyrics of that song is so appealing to me, it certainly strike a chord in me...  Go away, give me a chance to miss you...

All things alcohol

Without a doubt I have a penchant for anything ethanol based or fermented ;-).

Of late, my palate has accommodated to the taste of beers. It wasn't a natural progression, this sudden surge of liking them beers! It is definitely a learnt or rather acquired taste that grew with fondness due to the warmth spreading from my taste buds to my heart and mind. May I say, it is the strong influence from the company I'm with. My hubby dearest, inclusive.

Where shall I begin? I grew up on pilsners and lagers - good ol' Calsberg, Anchor, Tiger and not then to a darker and more mysterious toasty malty beer, The Guinness. Such ruled my life up to my mid 20s.

America exposed me to hard liquors and liqueurs, and flavoured beers. I eventually gravitated to a Dutch beer - Heineken, and the Chinese Tsing Tao. Then went nuts with beers from micro breweries.

Upon returning to my homeland, I reverted back to all beers I grew up with as imported beers are way too costly for my pay package. That was my world of beers right up to 30s. Then I gravitated towards lagers like Tiger, the Thai Chang beer and lots of Guinness.

When I met Martin, I fell in love with not just him, but all the beers he loves. The growth in loving Aussie beers began. All the Matilda bay beers, but I never abandoned the Irish Guinness ;-).

Then bam...I'm all into Whisky and reds. Beers became a distant memory...until I met a bunch of astrophysicists who are mad about their beers. My love for beers grew in tandem with my love for reds. Reds are a great influence from my sister dearest.

Eventually, a Portsmouth colleague came along, and taught me how yummy beers can be. This, my love for the Pale Ale and the Indian Pale Ale began. I'm taught to look at the clarity, the head and the aroma and the different types of grain in beers.

This year, I met a Dutch who shared all his notes about beers with me, and my love for Belgian and Dutch beers grew in leaps and bounds. I can't differentiate whether it's because I like this Dutchie heaps, hence my palate expanded or I'm just totally changed with regards to my open mindedness towards beers. The latter must hold more water than the former, as I still can't stomach the Yokel Grolsch that he sings praises of... Yuck. In a nutshell, I like it all except for weak piss types with the likes of Foster, the XXXX, VB etc.

Whilst my taste buds also gravitated towards sparkling Shiraz, sparkling whites and white wines like SBS, Chardonnays and Verdelhos. As for reds, I've moved beyond just my all time fav Shiraz fruit bombs to red I never liked before ... But now I love Malbecs, Cabernet Sauvignons, Cabernet Franc ... But still not Pinot Noirs. I guess I'm just not a Burgundy girl.

I've also gone towards all gaga with Japanese alcohol...Sake! Nikkas! Yum...;-).

Very well, all these talk of alcohol, I'd sum it all up as I'm moving towards liking almost or most alcohols. I'd better take it easy...as I can't end up having to join the AAA! Teehee!

The cougar and the cub

Let me air my thoughts from my many observations of late with reference to the subject title. I've come of age where I'm in the cougar category if I choose to be. Cubs are a aplenty, and let me tell you, young blood is fun and refreshing - they're cute, boyish and makes you giggle like a little girl. What more to say is that the cougar holds the reins at all times (I think!).

Seriously, I can't say enough to my cougar gal pals that when you age, so will he. When he's pushing 40s, he's going to get into this Elvis Presley syndrome with a tendency of hip gyrating and gazing at girls with mini skirts. At that same time, you'll be in your mid or late 50s, all veriose-veined and equipped with muscular calves from those 35-40 years of trotting around in stillettos.

Yes, you wouldn't mind the experience, but that's all  but that's all there is to it...an experience leading to an eventual heartache. Meat to fall back on? Hardly, because you're past your marketing time. You're no Zsa Zsa Gabor, Elizabeth Taylor or Demi Moore. So don't compare. In fact, we know how the story ended for these golden girls.

Generally, Women folk long for something that lasts a little longer (no pun intended!). I'm not talking about mere live-the-moment antics, but the semantics and reality of life. Unfortunately the world is made for men. I hate to admit it, but it's true... I've seen wrinkly, pot-bellied bastards have young women bating their eyelids and dropping at their arms... Of course, waiting for the old fart to croak and inherit all their $$. How fair is that? Well, lots of women have the idea that if old men can have young barbies, so can they have their toy boys!

I've seen a few in my lifetime, starting-to-wrinkle aunties having hot, juicy cubs holding their hands. When you delve further, these cubs are just there for a free ride with rich aunties. Oh, sad, sad world.
Wake up, ye mommas and aunties! Temptations will always be aplenty, but use your brain and logic. While he's in your his 20s and you're pushing 40s, there is compatibility from many aspects. Don't make me name them. Don't forget, deep down, you're still wired female, and have deep seated traditional values of happily-ever-after dreams. The younger male and older female thing of large disparity of age difference, it'll never work. So, cougars, if you're just having 'fun', keep it at that level, and don't cry wolf to your girlfriends whe things go pear shape!

Privacy

No two person sees privacy the identical way. I 'd liken that to preferences as rare as snowflakes, where no two flakes are ever identical. Of course there are some more similar, but never identical.

The term 'privacy' is so loosely used to basically keep others away from being a sticky beak into your affairs. I understand this, as I practice this. Sometimes I catch myself being a hypocrite of not walking my talk on this, but I keep myself very aware to minimise if not completely make sure I keep my principles and definition close to my heart and live it accordingly. Privacy is privacy, and termed as it is that you should mind your own business!

Often I hear of misunderstandings amongst two people who are the best of friends even...of where one of them cries betrayal of personal information being leaked to a third party. The relationship is marred forever, and never to be the same again. Some completely fall out, and never to be contact again in more extreme cases.

I've learnt to understand this ... I hate being betrayed, therefore I should never betray others. If I'm informed of very private information, I should just keep mum about it. There isn't a need for the childishness to be trigger happy with the information unless you are told to keep mum. There is engh common sense in your head to discern such.

Then again, what is common sense to me isn't common sense to the next person. S, sometimes spelling it out might help, and better still just don't say a thing that you know you treat as sensitive information, unless it's really necessary as in stopping a nuclear war :-).

Some see information as power, and they want to know everything about you, minute accounts of your life and all that of your family.  However when you thought it is an information sharing session, you find that there's nothing the other person has to say about their side of things. One ya traffic relationship, I'd call this...

Nevertheless, just speak less and listen more. If you are a person as private as I am, but yet open to have general talk ranging from A to Z, just be aware to not use any of your personal contacts as an example. Even who the person A you're speaking with doesn't know person B, there's no reason to talking about person B. That's gossip.

Stick to your guns that when you mean privacy in a true sense no matter he much you're prodded for information. Private means private. There's no two ways of looking at it.

Adaptability

...doesn't come naturally to me. I was shell-shocked to be holed up in a confidential meeting with senior staff to listen to both my bosses' announcements of leaving the institute. I was at the brink of bursting into tears. My direct boss said he's given 3 years' leave to get on to a new role overseas starting 1/1/16, while my other boss will be retiring some time in 2016.

Over the years, I'm completely settled in my role, and learnt how these two men tick, and now I'm worried about dealing with future unknown supervisors. My current bosses have protected me from silly political people, and given me support in various sticky situations including time off to heal from my insidious illness. I'm wondering whether I will have similar support via new bosses.

As a support staff overlooking a support team for this Institute, the role we play is important. We oil the wheels of processes by moving paperwork and also following up on various things ranging from day-to-day processes to reports and various bookings or setting up of meetings to events.

Most of all I'm worried about the adapting to any female boss. There is a historical aspect to this, as I've always had teething problems working with female bosses that sometimes lead to a fall out. Women bosses at that level can be picky and micro-managing types because they've fought their way up to the top and they love to show who's the boss. So tiring it can be, and dealing with sometimes unnecessary work that borderline with diva ways is vomiticious.

The more I think of it, the more vulnerable I feel. I hate changes. It just gives me the heebeejeebees.

This got me thinking that of today's announcement of how their looking into succession plans, and how we all have the opportunity to improve further and shine without a break into the smooth-running business within the work structure. It is a nice plan ahead, but it's at talk level. I'm cynical that way.

Have I lost my sense of adaptability? I must now reframe my mind and learn to adapt whether I like it or not.

Take that bit between your teeth...

...and just move forward, like I always do to face up many situations in life. May it we'll be a challenge or something that you know will snow ball to a different direction if you doing anything to rein it in.

Too many times I hear of reasons made up by dwellers to not move forward from situations, digging themselves deeper into the pit of despair. A despair in refusing to be courageous or simply became faithless and hopeless hindering them from moving forward. Take control...as it is the best way in carving as much the path you want to take rather than being taken for a ride, or on to someone else's ride.

You will see what I mean, and why I take this stance...

I had a bit of a sinister twist in life before. A suspicious growth that I pondered over at one point of my life. Daily checks didn't ease my mind, and I documented the evident changes. I took notes, and had catharsis with my sister and husband. Soon after, I made a courageous decision as talking ain't going to cut it. I saw a GP and verbalised my suspicions and pushed for tests to be done via referrals and to specialists and surgeons.

True enough, it is a potential terminal illness. Afraid I was, and shattered by the diagnosis. I was given options, and a decision must be made. My sister was the first I broke the news to, and then my husband, who couldn't keep it down well.

A discovery of such dashed my hopes of ever being a mother. It is an instant squelch to my youth and dreams. I grieved for my unborn children for a day whilst handling my husband's grief manifesting in gradual bursts of denials, growing by the minute.

I knew it's going to be a journey. My journey to organise, in which I did. From diagnosis to operations, and from treatments to post-treatment follow-ups I documented and made appointments. I organised my husband to accompany me, and made sure he had his father to support him. I multitasked.

Whilst in the midst of juggling illness, I decided that I have to mange how others react towards me. I found that how I react has a domino effect on how they react. I allowed grief to wash over me, as in the course of treatment, so strong are the drugs that I'm living outside of my body, physically and mentally. What a life changing experience.

I received in many forms of emotions ranging from worries to denial that manifests in rejection, anger, discomfort, and fighting off the cloud of depression that hung around like a bad smell, I kept moving forward. I know I had to have my bit of control that I'm still contributing to the workforce and the society. A different bit to put myself to good functional use.

Dad's 80th birthday celebration was looming in the horizon then, and I made that my celebration too - as the end of my treatment. It all panned out well, though I didn't look my best. Looks was secondary anyway. So glad I took that bit between my teeth to wade through to this day.

What shades? Who's Grey?

Some time last year, I had a girlie night out with my childhood friend. Both of us heard of this movie title but not paid attention to its contents or even genre.

Wow, speaking of soft p*rn, it was really that just that. K*nkiness to the 7th layer of l*st. I'm just putting asterisks to some words so that when the general public do their word search for reads, it won't lead them here. My blog is not about such, as you see.

What an eye-popping and eye-prying open kind of movie it is, I for some reason got unexpectedly hooked. I read the trilogy in 3 days. A book a day. What an achievement, not.

Did I learn anything? Yes and no. Yes to the fact that it takes all sorts to rock some world. I absolutely love intensity, my man with intense emotions reflecting in his eyes. That makes my heart skip a beat. No to the fact that it's just entertainment for a wee kick to jump start *ahem*...and my darling hubby was curious as anything after I returned from the movie. I told him about the movie title and he jumped on to the internet and read up about it.

For days to end, he'd ambush me in a passionate way. Funny, yet cute as can be. For weeks thereon, saying that he'd like to watch the movie with me. I just decided no all the way, as I enjoyed keeping this as a little girl secret, that my mind has been deflowered. An imagery kind for me to delve into without him referring to any part of that movie. That keeps us original.

So, am I the shady girl who is delving into grey areas? I think not with pain, but yes with intensity in laws of attraction. Teehee hee!

Romance...

...is it for everyone? I believe it is. I had an awesome read today, so beautifully written, so intense and wanting that I caught myself holding my breath from the first sentence to the last... Would be rubbish writing to some, but not to me... And here goes, from the huffington post, entitled "1 want to be single with you"...

I want to be single with you.

I want you to go have a beer with your friends, for you to be hungover the next morning and ask me to join you anyway because you feel like having me in your arms, for us to nuzzle against one another. I want to talk in bed in the morning about all sorts of things, but sometimes, in the afternoon, I want us to decide to take different paths for the day.

I want you to tell me about your evenings with your friends. To tell me that there was a girl at the bar who gave​​ you the eye. I want you to send me text messages when you're drunk with your friends, for you to tell me unimportant things, just so you can be assured that I think of you, too.

I want us to laugh while we're making love. For us to we start laughing because we're trying new things and it just doesn't make sense. I want us to be with our friends, for you to take me by the hand and take me to another room because you cannot take it anymore and you feel like right there you have to make love to me. I want to try to stay silent because there are ears that could hear us.

I want to eat with you, want you to make me talk about me and for you to talk about you. I want us to rant about the North Shore vs. South Shore, West suburb versus East. I want to imagine the loft of our dreams, knowing that we will probably never move in together. For you tell me about your plans with neither head nor tail. I want to be surprised, for you to make me say: Take your passport; we're leaving.

I want you to have your life, for you decide on a whim to travel for a few weeks. For you to leave me here alone bored and wishing for the small Facebook pop-up with your face that tells me "hi."

I don't always want to be invited for your evenings out and I don't always want to invite you to mine. Then I can tell you about it and hear you tell me about yours the next day.

I want something that will be both simple and at the same time not so simple. Something that will make sure that I often ask myself questions, but the minute I'm in the same room as you, I know. I want you to think I'm beautiful, for you to be proud to say that we're together. I want to hear you say you love me and I especially want to tell you in return. I want you to let me walk ahead of you so you can watch my bottom swing from left to right. For you to let me scrape the windows of my car in winter because my butt wiggles and it makes you smile.

I want to make plans not knowing whether or not they will be realized. To be in a relationship that is anything but clear. I want to be your good friend, the one with whom you love hanging out. I want you to keep your desire to flirt with other girls, but for you to come back to me to finish your evening. Because I will want to go home with you. I want to be the one with whom you love to make love and fall asleep. The one who stays away when you work and loves it when you get lost in your world of music. I want to live a single life with you. For our couple life, would be the equivalent of our single lives today, but together.

One day I will find you.

This post originally appeared on HuffPost Quebec and was translated into English.

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Calm down...

...well, I am calming down. With a slight flurry of thoughts, passing in little frames and snippets of what would and could be, and catapulting ahead with nothing in between, earlier, that is :-).

I'm gearing into reframing my mind, rethinking thoughts I had for the past few days, giggling at funny moments and scowling at absurd situations. Funny how the mind works, and with an imagination as vivid as mine, I see my Ally McBeal moments.

So, what did I actually do to calm myself down? I dived into my fears, looked at the many facets of my life, all the nooks and crannies and pockets of dark and lit areas. I made a decision, and have comfortably settled by coining it as pragmatism and put it in a course of plans to be eventually transferred to actions.

My to-do list...dive back to reading, gear up for academic writing and do something academic soon. It's about time. My excuse? Well, it's just 1.5 years post-treatment, so another 1.5 to come out of being high-risk, then add another 2 years for an all-clear. Roughly I'm looking at signing up for the continuation of my further education.

That is my procrastination, at least it calmed me down a wee bit.

Well... It has been a while

Hello blog. It has certainly been a while since I last logged in. Was I too busy? Nah, I was plain slack mostly, but a whole lot has happened since my last active blogging...like yonks ago.

Let me see, what was it that I could say so far? I had a crappy few years between 2008-2011, like 3 years of doing my time as a new migrant to the land of Oz. Then a few gruelling months of job hunting before I landed an unexpected role while I held till now.

So, part of 2012 was trying, then I was at cross roads of which path I'd take. I know, so cryptic, right? Well, I suppose writing all these down is a reminder for me and not really about letting readers or followers know what's going on.

2013 was an especially crap but sobering year. Unexpected, and painful. It's almost like a crash course, if not lessons learnt of "expectations lead to disappointment." The journey was very private, lonesome and heart-wrenching. It was a year that I aged. Tremendously aged.

2014 was the year of balancing and forgiving the unforgiving. It's like reclaiming myself back to an extend but accepting new normals. I'm at this point gearing into my new normal. I must say that a lot of demons were set free, if not expunged. Glad I did it.

2015, halfway through it, I had a bit of a Cyndi Lauper syndrome, just internally, not outwardly. Yes, I was wishing that I'm 20 years younger.  I mustn't say I had regrets, but looking back retrospectively, I should have handled things better and made better use of my limited time. I did look back on what have I achieved all these years. I certainly did a Rip Van Winkle. I realised, that is... but I'm now aware, and I'm reclaiming the youth I didn't make use of... the mapping of the mind type, not the experimental path, but the sobering front.

Well, having said all these that I've said something but actually not said anything, I might as well sign off again to catch my beauty sleep. Whatever that's left of my beauty.