Do you ever feel that you could do anything – if you just knew what it was?

Nothing is worse than not having a clear direction. Without a clear direction, you are either paralyzed or busy running around in circles. Each of us is unique and different. Each of us has something special to offer to the world. Each of us has our own natural gifts and talents. For some of us, we have just not been awakened to them yet. That’s why we feel frustrated and zapped of energy.

Two women left indelible marks in my life this week. They are Susan Boyle and Hollie Steel, both participants in the ongoing third installment of Britain’s Got Talent.

Boyle, 47 and Steel, 10 didn’t know they had a wondrous gift that God had given them until they opened their mouths to sing. Boyle, the spinster who has never had a relationship was the target of many a joke and jeer because of her frumpy outlook and dressing. But floor the audience and get a standing ovation she did when she did a rendition of ‘I Dreamed A Dream’. Even Simon Cowell, the hard to please judge, is tipping her to win the competition.

Steel, the tiny little girl who looks just like any other school-going kid wasn’t impressive initially when she did her ballet performance. It was stereotypical. But when she launched into ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’  and hit all the high notes, she was proclaimed a child prodigy in the making.

There is greatness in all of us. Some of us lucky ones have already been enlightened to what our gift is. As for the rest of us who are still searching, come will that day when we truly come alive!

Comments(0)

Each family is unique and self-defining, an exotic culture with a language, a style, a rhythm unlike any other’s. What we experience shapes who we are – and who we will become.

The family is a living, pulsing organism, continually changing and continually reinventing itself. Its existence is an inspiration – for our greatest acts of love, our worst nightmares, and our finest dreams.

We cannot choose the family we wish to be born into. We cannot choose who our parents nor sibilings are. We just have to make the best of it. And surprising, we still manage to.

Thus when I heard that J was permanently estranged from his parents, it came as quite a shock to me. He doesn’t even contact nor talk to them anymore.

Yes, we don’t always see eye to eye with our parents. Yes, they may restrict our movements or even lay curfews. Yes, they may nag at us. I don’t deny that even in my relatively small family, quarrels are still inevitable. But at the end of the day, I still love my parents because they gave me flesh and blood. They loved me in their own way. They brought me up. They gave me a decent education. I still love my parents no matter how imperfect they may be.

There’s a recent touching television commercial commissioned by the Ministry of Community Development, Youth & Sports (MCYS) titled ‘Funeral’ which looks at relationships in a different light, through a woman at her husband’s funeral.

Like the protagonist, I remember Dad not because he was perfect. Rather, I remember him for his imperfections that made him perfect.

It is an open secret that Dad snores. And his snores are exceptionally loud and disturbing. I had to contend with his snores each night. But strangely, I became used to hearing them each night as the years went by. In fact, I would press my ears next to the wall to hear the rippling effect from the next room. Dad’s snores were just like the incoming waves rushing to hug the shores.

So what if Dad’s snores every night were more than a earful and could even penetrate the walls of my room next door? To me, they had grown to become a beautiful symphony.

I remember Dad for watching television and providing a live commentary at the same time. Yes, it too was irritating initially. Why couldn’t Dad just keep his comments to himself? It was his unique way of letting his creative juices flow and rewrite the lousy script or build up the tension. And it also served to enhance the bond between father and son each time we watched television together and discussed the serial unfolding.

I remember Dad for reading the newspapers aloud. Who needed a newscaster at home? His loud and booming voice was a foil for my peace and quiet. Only much later did I realise he was attempting to speak better English and this was his way of learning each day.

When Dad’s illness was at his worst, his snores each night, his live commentaries and his read-alouds were comforting signs. More importantly, it was a reminder that he was still alive. And I was grateful he was still alive. I always had this fear that should I drift off to sleep, I wouldn’t live to hear him again. Some years later, I was right. My Dad was no more.

At the end of it all, it’s really these small, minute things that I remember about my Dad. Like in the commercial script “the little imperfections that make them perfect for (me)”.

Comments(0)

Black is a mystery. Black is appealing.

Black is a power that appeals. Black is alluring.

Black is the dark side we have been warned to stay away from. Black is sexy.

Black is decadent. Black is the colour of my hair.

Black is the shadow that lurks after me. Black is my own silhouette.

Black is the colour of my face after a rotten day. Black is when the lights are off.

Black is harbouring no more hope. Black is the state of mind where everything starts anew.

Black is the colour that heats up our bodies. Black is the colour that helps us look slim.

Black is everything. Black is where our worst fears come through.

Black is the smoke screen we must see through. Black engulfs us.

Black corrupts us. Black protects us.

Comments(0)

I find it strange how some clothing companies can have different branches in town offering almost the same items, yet their service standards differ as vastly as heaven from earth.

Into Store A I stepped. I liked the T-shirt but it didn’t have my size. I certainly wasn’t going to buy a T-shirt which was not my size. I requested the sales assistant to help me check if the other branches carried my size. He started hemming and hawing. Excuse me, this was slightly after 10.30am and there was no other soul in the store. Did he need to plaster his hair with more gel, file his nails or polish his boots?

It was a simple request but it only resulted in a deafening silence. Sensing his reluctance, I proceeded to ask again. This time, he grudgingly took down my particulars and promised to call me after he had checked. But deep down inside, I knew he would not bother at all. I further tested waters by asking if his company practised a transferring of stock policy should my size be found at the other outlets. He bluntly said no. Alright. I’ll leave.

Not one to give up so easily, I exited the store and walked three streets down to the next nearest store. And trust me, I was treated like a member of the royal family at Store B. His cheery smile was matched by mine. The only thing the sales assistant at this second store of the same clothes company didn’t do was to roll out the red carpet, sit me on a throne and serve me tea. He empathised with me and cheerfully called all the other outlets (actually there were only 2 other outlets). He was back in less than 3 minutes and told me the size I wanted was available at Store C. He even took the initiative to ask if I wanted to transfer the item over. Of course I said yes.

I was first treated shabbily, then royally. It really makes me wonder if there is a common service standard that applies across the board for all outlets. Maybe they should just hire me as their service quality consultant.

Comments(0)

Hey, I’m not sure if you have watched the latest blockbuster in town? It’s titled “Women catfight in AWARE”.

AWARE, of course stands for the Association of Women for Action and Research. And trust me, the blockbuster is so good with its plots, twists, hue and cry that a second-parter and third instalment is on its way. It’s definitely value for money. More important, it’s free entertainment.

The Old Birds could not believe they were unceremoniously disposed out of office during the AGM by a team of fresh upstarts. They raised a hullabaloo and questioned the motive and integrity of the New Guard. They demanded to know if the newcomers shared AWARE’s vision and values, including equality for all regardless of race, religion or sexuality. More importantly, they hissed at a conspiracy theory that the New Birds had hatched a devious plan to oust them both from office and physically (by changing the locks to the office).

The latest development is that the Old Birds are mooting a vote of no confidence in the new exco commitee in the forthcoming EGM.

And the New Birds, by maintaining their silence and refusing to kowtow to the questions of the Old Birds only added to the brewing storm that is threatening to spill out of the teapot. Add to the drama the employee of the newly elected president when it issued an official statement stating it did not support her plan to run for presidency.

Then they dealt a deadly blow to the Old Birds by claiming that death threats were received and they feared for their lives. To add extra fuel, they accused the Old Birds were slanting dangerously to becoming a pro-gay and pro-lesbian organisation with their views on this alternative lifestyle.

Behind closed doors, the women cried, quivered, shouted and banged tables. Call for press conferences too they did.

When I first read about this saga, I could not understand what’s the fucking problem with these women. Maybe it’s just inherent in all women that they get jealous easily. Women are funny creatures. If you shower them with too much attention, they suspect that you are being unfaithful to them and thus are trying to mask your guilt. If you don’t treat them well, they will complain that you don’t have a place for them in your heart. As men, we have a tough job understanding women.

Then I started to view things from a wider picture. From a third person’s viewpoint, I feel it all boils down to power. The women who have been in power for the last 15 – 20 years want to continue to wield power. The new bunch of women wanted power, and seized it in a pseudo coup d’état. Who doesn’t like power? It feels so high and mighty being the president of XYZ organisation. You have the clout. You have followers. You only need to dress pretty and walk daintly. You only need to delegate work to your subordinates. But remember, power corrupts.

It’s showdown on May 2 at the EGM. In the meantime, let the catfights continue. Scratch scratch here, claw claw there. Meow here meow there, meow everywhere!

Comments(0)

A told me I gained weight. But B said I lost weight. I don’t know who to believe.

If I were to believe A, then I would have to start shedding off the excess kilos. If I were to believe B, then I would have to pack on more muscles.

Really, does it matter whether A or B is right? Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. To some, being big is bliss as there’s more to hug. Moreover, it’s a sign of security. But for some, only a size S will do for them as any excess is fat, fat and fat.

Thinking about it, what is most important is knowing I’m at my ideal weight. This I can confirm as I just took my in-body analysis. There’s no need for me to gain or lose any kilos. There’s no need for me to lose any body fat. That’s the best news!!

Comments(2)

I feel the next best alternative to cohabitation is to have an overseas holiday together. For it to be effective, it is advisable for the holiday to be at least four days and above. I speak from experience as I learnt it the hard way.

Taking an overseas holiday together reveals the entire truth (not always the pretty truth but its ugly cousin as well). Lovers meet weekly, twice weekly, thrice weekly, x weekly and always present their best side to the other party. You are immaculately groomed, on time, polite and obliging all the time. It is as if you are the God or Goddess incarnate.

But pierce through the thick mists and you realise this is nothing else than a pretty wallpaper facade. The ugly truth hides behind it.

An overseas holiday successfully pierces through the thick mists. No one is that adept at acting for so many days, unless you are a first-rate actor or actress. There are times when you let your guard down and that is the moment I’m waiting for.

Terrible toilet habits, noisy sleep patterns, uncalled for mood swings, irregular meal times, temperamental tantrums…

Who in their right frame of mind would hang their intimate body inner wear in the bathroom for all to see? Who in their right frame of mind would hide under the blanket sheets and refuse to eat when it’s time to do? Who in their right frame of mind would play disappearing acts like a three-year old? Who in their right frame of mind would wander off without any prior notice? Who in their right frame of mind would appear perpetually lost in a world of their own as in a daze?

I saw them all. I cringed at them all. I was shocked by them all. I was disgusted by them all. Whatever happened to the God or Goddess incarnate? I think it’s more the Devil incarnate more appropriately!

There’s no need to finish reading the rest of the script. Just fast forward me to the end of the script. It’s a good thing I didn’t commit.

Comments(1)

It’s been an interview of sorts lately. Contractors/interior designers of all shapes and sizes have been walking in to take a look at the place and then giving us quotations.

Interestingly, one look at the contractor/interior designer and we can tell the quality that he/she represents.

In walked this lady dressed like a model from the runway show, complete with an immaculate dress, and her signature accessory – her LV bag.

Next, in walked this man with a beautifully maintained designer goatee beard.

And then, in walked this man who parked his car, a Mercedes Benz convertible, only a mere 2 min ago.

Questions went through our heads. So part of our renovation cost will be going to that lady to pay for her next LV bag? Or are we going to have to sponsor the man to continue with the designer goatee? Or worse, to help pay for that guy’s monthly car instalment?

No thank you. We would still prefer some hardworking, down-to-earth Chinese uncle. Yes, in these economic times, uncle power rules! So if your company is Tan Ah Kow Interior Design and Construction, please step forward. If your name is Super Milan Interior Design, don’t waste your time with us.

Comments(1)

Being recently single again, I’m reminded of the words of an American trainer who gave a talk some months ago. He said “some of us date not because we fall in love but rather because we are lonely.”

When I first heard this, I laughed it off. Now recalling this classic sentence, I feel there’s so much meaning in it. In fact, both that trainer and I are guilty of it.

I date not because I want to fall in love but rather because I am lonely. I think that’s why none of my relationships have lasted beyond the one year mark. I just want company when I feel lonely and need someone to talk to, never mind if the listener actually understands what I am talking about.

The fear of being lonely is one of my greatest fears. Imagine living in a house with no one to talk to. Imagine going through the downs of life with no one to complain to. Imagine suffering the injustice of the world with no shoulder to cry on. I can never live a life like that. I will go mad. I need to be surrounded by people. I feed on their energy. That’s why I date. And when I get the company I hanker for, then I’m no longer lonely.

But that’s also where the first problem lies. Because my starting point is ‘not feeling lonely’, after a while, the law of diminishing marginal returns (now this is my own theory) sets in. It’s just company right? And when it starts to get boring having to contend with old company, it’s time to seek new company.

That’s when I start the dumping process. I dump my partners exactly in the same manner as how I dump my old clothes. When I get tired of them or when they no longer fit into my grand scheme of things, sorry it’s time for them to go. There is no compassion in the way this is carried out. You may term it merciless if you want to but it is vintage me. Very often, it is done via email or sms. And then that person is forever formatted from the archives of my memory.

Let the truth be spoken but I hate it when people start clinging onto me like a leech. They expect me to reply sms or pick up the phone immediately. Remember, I’m not a recruit in the army. I don’t have to report at a specific time, place and fashion. In fact, except for my army days, I never had to. Having been put in numerous leadership positions from my schooling years to my corporate world years, I was already used to giving instructions and I liked being in control. Even as a lifestyle coach now, my clients listen to me. If they are told to stay off certain foods and they do not, they know the consequences they have to face.

The second problem is that I have no lack of suitors. That’s why I can afford to dump without having to think twice. It’s always exciting to meet new people and test them out. I know in the process, I have broken some hearts, but like the Chinese saying goes, 男人不坏, 女人不爱 (if a guy is not a bad boy, the girl will not love him).

Yet, ironic as it seems, when I went past the stage of just seeking yet another company initially to really, truly falling in love in this last relationship, it still came to naught in the end. Perhaps it could be because I loved my ex more than the other way round. I planned all the weekly outings. I wrote love sonnets for the special one. I created surprises along the way. I initiated overseas getaways. I took countless photographs to remember each memory. I uploaded both our Facebooks with our dating pictures. Alas…alas…alas…If I was loved more instead, I wouldn’t have had to put up with someone’s incessant drama moods and insecurities.

It’s good being single. In fact, I’m enjoying my new found freedom so much now that two of my clients, who knew about my breakup, noticed it. They commented me on my glowing complexion and exuberance today.

Nonetheless, I think the message is clear. I still need to be in control. Die I will the day I cede control to another person who runs my life for me. I am not a chess on the chessboard. I cannot live under such circumstances. I make decisions and my word is law. And as for the next special one who walks into my circle, I will make sure I am loved more as it’s more fortunate and less tiring to be loved than to love.

Comments(2)

One of the most common yet sensitive subjects to discuss is sex. In my opinion, sex is really a double-edged sword.

You can view sex as a transaction between two consenting adults. The objective is made known. Then the place, date and time are agreed upon. Both go into this ‘meeting’ knowing what to expect.

Once the transaction is over, both leave happy as they have achieved what they have set out to achieve. As human beings, we have our primal needs. It is akin to a successful negotiation or a fruitful meeting. So who did I shag tonight?

As a means to an end, the transaction officially ends after both have climaxed. However, in some unique cases, one consenting adult may want to continue the dalliance further as some good vibes linger in the air. This is when things get a little complicated. W was telling me this happened over the last weekend and he’s in a fix. I told him he should have stated it clearly from the very start that it was just sex and nothing else. No sorrowful tears when it comes to parting nor constant pleading for a follow-up unless both are agreeable.

To stretch the analogy a little further, transactional sex is like collecting badges. How many badges have I collected over a particular period of time?

This reminds me of the stickers I used to collect when I was younger. For those around my age, the ‘know your schools’, ‘army stickers’, ‘care bears’ etc best sum up the stickers.

Perhaps the best example of a badge collector is Annabel Chong. At the age of 22, Ms Chong became world famous by engaging in 251 sex acts with about 70 men over a ten-hour period on 19 Jan 1995, thus setting a world record. I bet as an avid badge collector, Ms Chong did keep a secret diary book on the potential partners, sex lovers or the hopeless flops.

When we were younger, we used to trade stickers with our friends or classmates so that we could get the stickers we don’t have and finish pasting the entire sticker book. But in life, we don’t trade our partners with our friends or colleagues. If one day this were to happen and we find our friend or colleague in bed with our partner, the relationship is over.

Besides viewing sex as a transaction, I also see it as a beautiful encompassing act between two consenting adults used to cement the relationship. In any relationship, besides the emotional, mental and spiritual stimulus each partner gives the other, we cannot forget the physical. As most of us are also kinesthetic people (besides being visual),  we love to be in a touchy feeling kind of mood. It makes us feel good. After a tender loving session in bed, both of you feel on top of the world. Both of you feel connected at a different level that you just want to make things work out between you. Intimacy is crucial to sustain any relationship. Exploring each other’s body is like scouring a world map for treasures. How do I excite? When do I stimulate? Where do I tantalise?

Sex is good. It depends on how you view it. Use it well and it will serve you well in return. Misuse it and it will just be another routine exercise you go through day in day out, week in week out, month in month out, year in year out…kind of reminds you of the sucky job as an employee right?

Comments(0)