The April Fools of My Life

I did not even realize yesterday was April Fools. For someone who loves laughing at other people’s misery and misfortunes, including my own, the fact that the universal joke day passed by so uneventfully is a very sad fact. Come to think of it, there isn’t a single April Fools  that stands out in my mind. It’s a sad, sad thing.

I’m not one who makes jokes and devise devious pranks for a laugh. You’d only have to see me throwing a half-empty cup with its mouth facing towards me during a football game to know that I naturally do things that make people laugh without any intention of making people laugh. By the way, that cup hit the head of a guy sitting two rows in front of me, and I spent the rest of the game squatting behind my seat because I was convinced I was going to get beaten up. But you know, I laugh at anything. I’m very easy to be made to laugh- a guy flipping vertically over his bicycle, a college buddy getting stuck in his sister’s super-80s prom dress after my encouragement to try it on, tripping over a phantom cable on a football field, getting hit in the crotch by a 120-mph tennis ball, a fart at a yoga class… you name it.

So really, there’s gotta be tons for me to laugh at and with on April Fools. But no, there isn’t anything for me to laugh at or with. There was nothing funny that happened yesterday, and though I did laugh, it wasn’t because of an April Fools joke. And now I’m trying to  rake my brain to recall a single funny memory of an event that happened on April 1, and… I got nothing.

It bothers me that no one has played a joke or a prank on me. I don’t normally  do a prank on others simply because I’m too lazy. I saw this video on CNN iReport, where a group of office employees cover their boss’ office with aluminum foil. See, I don’t do that, because one, it’s too much work, and two, these people must have stayed late the day before or come in much earlier on April 1 to carry out this prank, and honestly, I’d rather sleep. I don’t do jokes or pranks sure, but considering my klutz-iness and blond-inside status, I am a prime target for an April Fools joke. However, for some unexplainable reason, I have never been a victim of  April Fools day, and I can’t understand why no one bothers to pull a joke on me!

The first thing that came to my mind is unpopularity- don’t bullies target the least popular kids? I may possess some extreme anti-social graces but I am not unpopular. So this theory of hierarchical system of popularity doesn’t apply here. So then I thought, maybe people are so busy in their work that they forget about having a laugh on my expense. We all know how the recession is affecting everyone, and everyone is worrying about their jobs and their next paychecks. Obviously the said group of employees above has no concern over the recession, or they are just taking revenge on him for all the things he’s done over the year. I don’t know, I’m just guessing here. Then, I thought, why is it, that when an April Fools prank is targeted towards random people, I’m still not random enough to be a part of that random people. It’s almost like I’m fated not to be laughed at on April Fools Day.

Hang on, a memory from way back when has just emerged. I think this happened when I was in primary school or maybe even 7th grade. It was April Fools, and this group of boys were scaring the girls in my class by telling them there was a cockcroach on their skirts. Of course all the girls looked down in horror then giggled stupidly in relief, except me. I looked down, and seeing nothing, I said something that was not very ladylike at the boys and did not emit a single girlish giggle. I appreciate creativity in a guy, you see, even from such a young age.

A lot of funny things have happened to me which made people laugh at me and me laughed at myself. I have had an M&M’s dropped into my pants, and I sat with the damn thing between my butt cheeks for the whole day. I only found out that there had been an M&M down there when I took off my jeans at home and heard a ‘clink’ sound. I have lied down on the floor to proof myself and my buddy that Leonardo’s Virtuvian Man ratio is correct by measuring the length of my body and the span of my arms. My buddy then theorized that the circumference of my palm would equal that of my face, so I naively put my palm to my face and ended up slapping myself in the face with a little help from my buddy. I can go on and on and on.

All these funny things that have happened to me occurred on any other day than April Fools. I guess April Fools to me is like Valentine’s Day. Why do you need a special day to have a laugh when on the remaining 364 days of the year I get farted on the face, get made fun of because of my short tongue (it’s really short) or laughing at my friend for being so constipated it made him dizzy? I’m made fun of and I made fun of my friends almost every single day of my life so in all honesty I need not feel upset that no one is pulling one on me on April 1.

You know what would be really cool though? Getting proposed on April Fools. That would be very, very eventful indeed. But we all know that ain’t gonna happen to me. So I’ll settle for 364 days of April Fools.

The Scary Truth of the New Astrological Sign

I took a “What’s Your New Astrological Sign” quiz on Facebook. Of course I took this quiz for pure fun, but based on my experiences, these kind of quiz no longer surprises me. The answers have always been the standard description of my star sign, and this description describes my personality quite well. Maybe it’s just biased psychology; my mind unconsciously agrees with whatever is written because it is made up of traits that I like- love to travel, needs challenge, cannot be tied down, stubborn, etc, etc.

However, this New Astrological Sign quiz kind of took me aback a little. Not only it provides the standard description as other astrological quizzes, it also pegs the bad sides of me quite to the T:

Buoyancy characterizes the Sagittarian Rooster. He’s atwitter with chitchat and agog with stories of adventure. This subject, born under two of the most high-strung signs, will be nervous, frank, candid, and a bit carried away with himself. The word is enthusiasm but it’s more than that. Sagittarius/Roosters are full of dash and elan. They cut an impressive figure wherever they go-and they go everywhere! Superficially, this character appears boastful and cocky. But deep down he is serious, dreams of helping the downtrodden and cares enormously about others. His love life is highly charged, but uneven. Great passions come alive and carry him to heavenly heights. The next week, it’s over. The paradox lies in this person’s odd relationship to deceit. He can’t stand untruth and yet is capable of some devious fibbing of his own. This approach makes cementing love into anything more permanent than a roll in the hay in a grass hut. The sex is surely delicious. But don’t count on this character to still be there in the morning.

If any one of my friend is asked to describe me, they would say 99% of what was written above. On the one hand, I’m quite pleased that this astrological stuff has turned out to be more than just ancient beliefs and eve my cynical side is nodding in agreement that there may be some truth in how the stars were alligned on the day you were born could affect your personality. But on the other hand, I’m sure I’m not the only Sagitarian Rooster in the world, and although this quiz result doesn’t apply to all of my fellow Sagitarian Roosters, there must be a percentage who sees their personality being described accurately just by entering their birthdates. It kind of makes me feel less unique. I’m starting to think that these characteristics are what make me ME, and having to share these with others? I’m selfish that way.

The Election Hangover

Before I seriously put on my political hat and evaluate the recently ended US presidential campaign and election, allow me to state a few things. One, I am not a US citizen, but I’d like to think of the US as my adopted home away from home. Two, I am too liberal to be dress myself in Republican red. Three, I know very little of politics than what I see and hear on CNN, so don’t crucify me for this post. And four, I am just honestly stating my opinions and asking questions that have been bothering me, so if anyone can give me an insight or two and enrich my political knowledge, it would be really great.

Now, let’s start.

When it was announced that Obama and McCain were the presidential nominees for their respective parties, I was very excited. I think the Obama- Clinton fight was a big challenge for Obama to overcome, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who was curious to see how he would take on McCain for the presidency. And you know of McCain as the Maverick, McRage, etc, and with his 26 years of experience, you expect some really heavy, interesting and exciting campaigning from him, against the fresh, inspirational campaign of Obama’s. So, the stage was set, may the best man win.

The Vice-Presidential nominees were next to be announced. Obama’s choice made sense. Joe Biden has experience, especially in foreign policies, something that a lot of people say Obama lacks knowledge in. Biden may be a more hot-headed senator than Joe Cool Obama, but you see how they have chemistry and how they really support each other. And, most importantly, Biden has a sense of humor- I believe anyone who can laugh at themselves is someone you can get along with. So, you know, Obama- Biden is a good partnership in my eye.

And what did McCain do? Pick a governor, with very little experience, and from a state that she claims she can see Russia from just because it shares a little strait of a border. And this close proximity is her qualification in foreign policy. Wow. Seriously, of all the 50 states, of all the Republican candidates in USA, Sarah Palin? Really? I mean, I have nothing against Alaska; my parents and a few of my friends have gone on a cruise there and they said it’s really beautiful, and I’m sure Alaskans are very nice people. But, McCain, haven’t you been criticizing Obama for his lack of experience, and you selected this woman with even less experience than Obama as your running mate? I mean, SERIOUSLY?! 

That woman was the beginning of the end for McCain. Yes, everyone was excited, a female running mate! We’ve seen the excitement from Hillary’s campaigns and women voters are the key to the presidency! But, really? He’s like 72 years old, and I’m sure he’s in good health to be able to campaign vigorously at his age, but should he become president, his plan B is this woman. Seriously? 

And I don’t understand McCain’s ad campaigns. I mean, I haven’t seen them all, again, I only know what I know thanks to CNN, but what I’ve seen are not very inspiring. What’s there to inspire when he just kept attacking Obama? Obama is promising change, McCain is just attacking his background, his middle name, and the list goes on. In a diverse society like America, is it really wise to criticize all these things? Didn’t you think, McCain, that your undecided voters may have one or more similar backgrounds as Obama’s? 

And then, THAT interview happened. I think a fifth grader can do better than Sarah Palin when asked the same questions. I couldn’t even bear to watch it because I felt to embarrassed for Palin. OK I admit I wasn’t doing any better than she did; I didn’t know what the Bush Doctrine was prior to the interview, but as a Republican Governor of Alaska, and as John McCain’s running mate, shouldn’t you have some inkling of an idea? 

As if the interview wasn’t bad enough, the Canadians decided to prank call her. The fake Sarkozky asked if she would run for presidency in 2012, and she GIGGLED. OK, you’re pretty cute Sarah Palin, but when you talk to another head of state from a country that doesn’t think much of your own country, you ought to have some sort of professionalism. Seriously, where did this woman come from?

And I hate how she puts herself as the model of working mom, that she would be your friend in the White House. Girl, Michele Obama is a working mom, Hillary Clinton is a working mom, MY mom and sisters are working moms. Don’t put yourself on a pedestal like that to get our sympathy. I honestly take that as an insult; just because you share the hardship of being a working mom does not make you any better than any working moms out there, and it offends that you’re using this angle to impress the women voters. You want to score points with the working moms? Make sure that when they take their kids to the hospital, they won’t be turned away or be burdened by thousands of dollars in medical bills. Make sure their kids don’t have to be deep in debts in their effort to get a college degree. Make sure the job market and the economy is healthy so that they can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that their kids would have better future and better lives. If there are really wars to be fought, make sure the soldiers are equipped properly and safely so they can come home alive and well to their mothers. When you’ve done all this, Sarah Palin, you can crown yourself The Working Mom of All Working Moms.

I just don’t get it. I mean, this should have been one of the most exciting campaigns ever! And in his concession speech, he was thanking everyone for job well done, for all the efforts put in, etc, etc. If I were McCain, I’d be like this is a shit campaign! Who the hell let me select Palin? Why the hell did anyone convince me she would be a good running mate? Why didn’t any of MY advisors give her any coaching before the Couric interview? Obama has over 2 million people on his Facebook, why do I have only 600 thousands? Why didn’t anyone teach me all this techy stuff to connect with the young voters? How come Obama has all those cool celebrities endorsing him, and I only have Arnold? Can’t you people find me some cool athletes and the Republican equivalent of Oprah?

It’s not that I wanted McCain to win, but I just thought there’s more to McCain than what we’ve seen. Well, I guess after what happened to Al Gore in 2000, it’s the Republican’s turn. Yeah, we kinda feel bad about Florida and all, so we’ll screw up this campaign to make up for it, and leave some good materials for the SNL people to do their skits. 

Oh McCain, it’s really sad that we saw the man that we know you are capable of being during that concession speech. I’m sure Obama would’ve won regardless the campaign McCain was running, but man, to bow out with such an embarrassing running mate and aimless presidential campaign? 

The best man did win. And it’s about time change arrives in America. Yay Obama!

Extra Fee for Extra Leg Space

Singapore Airlines announced that it will start charging US$50/ way for passenger choosing to sit on emergency exit seats for the extra leg space. I understand that some passengers specifically request for seats there for this extra room, and I even know a number of people who have to have these seats because they are freakishly tall (6′3″ and taller).

But I wonder, is it fair to charge this extra $50? I mean, with the taxes and fuel surcharges that add up to even more than the air ticket price itself, and with the current economic crisis, is it fair, really?

I can swallow extra charges for more air marshals in planes, better foods served during flights, better in-flight entertainment, etc. But extra leg space? It seems to me that SIA is taking advantage of this situation to make more money. I’m just surprised that SIA dared to put a fee for this. I mean, they are one of the best airlines in the world, and they are risking their reputation for providing the best customer service by charging for extra leg space on a row that is required to be wider than others? 

I remember when one of the US airlines announced that the whole economic class cabin was to have extra leg space. The rows were made to be wider, giving everyone in economic class, whether sitting on the emergency seats or not, more leg room. I cannot remember if this particular airline increased their airfares- in the spirit of capitalism I’m sure they did- but I don’t mind paying extra because I know everyone is enjoying the same benefit.

I guess you can say that the benefit of this extra leg space in SIA flights would be enjoyed only by those who are willing to pay for it. So I guess in a way, it’s pretty fair. The extra charge would free up these emergency row seats to those who really need them, and the freakishly tall people can battle it out without us normal height people spoiling the market. 

I can’t help but wonder however if we normal height people would have to fork up more money for some other ‘privileges’ during a flight. Those sitting on window seats would have to pay an extra $50 for the view of the fluffy clouds. Those sitting on aisle seats would have to pay an extra $50 for easier access to the toilets. The possibility to generate more revenues are endless.

I guess during a financially hard time like this, anything is chargeable.

The Redundancy of Wisdom Teeth

The mandibular third molars, better known as wisdom teeth, grow in most people between the age 17-25, an age range deemed old enough to garner some wisdom. In fact, these teeth could be of valuable assets when they grow out properly.

I beg to differ.

These damn teeth have given me nothing but misery. I cried myself to sleep for the whole week during my junior year in college because my left wisdom tooth was growing slanted and pushing the tooth next to it, hence causing unbelievable pain that not even the strongest pain killer could help me bear. The process of extracting it was so painful, regardless the anesthetic, and the after math of the extraction was even worse. It was pure torture.

And of course, five years later, I had to go through the same thing. My dentist this time had a bit more finesse, but the pain, the swelling, the soreness, they’re all the same. And now, even after my stitches have been removed, after taking painkillers, my mouth is still not the same. I am still tortured.

Why on earth do we still need wisdom teeth? Are they going to help us chew better? Well, I was doing fine before they came out. My dental bridge is supported well enough, I don’t see how these four extra teeth would help in anyway. And I don’t have any missing molars that I’d need my wisdom teeth to come in as replacements. Even if a molar was missing, there’s such a thing as artificial teeth these days. So why hasn’t evolution kicked in and gotten rid of these damn things altogether? Maybe Sarah Palin is right after all…

Seriously though, why do we still need wisdom teeth? They don’t give us anymore wisdom, they do nothing, they provide nothing, even their benefits… they’re redundant. These 4 teeth are redundant. Our existing teeth are fine without them; they don’t need anymore help in chewing. 

So now, with an ice pack pressed tightly to my right cheek, hoping in some way it would reduce the swelling, I feel a series of throbbing pain in my gum, although I have had my stitches removed, stitches that were irritating my gum and my cheek, so much so that I developed TWO ulcers. Even now, without the stitches, I still feel this empty space that has been sown and closed up pulling in whenever I swallow. I fear it’s going to open up and ooze blood till I pass out.

I’m not being dramatic, but seriously, I am in a lot of pain. So I beg you evolution, please, pretty please, just stop these mandibular third molars from torturing us. Just eliminate them. Please.

A Pilgrimage

My long-awaited European trip is finally here. I have packed my bag (no doubt I will unpack and re-pack it because I just feel like it), I have listed down all the must-see sights in Italy, and I have brushed up on my limited Italian so that I can be seen as less of a tourist and more as someone who is genuinely interested in the country and its culture.

I can’t help but feel that this trip is coming at the right time. Some of you know that I have left my job, I have left that crazy boss of mine to deal with all th BS on her own, and I cannot be happier mentally. On the other hand, I am having this ultimate quarter life crisis where I am completely lost as to what to do for the rest of my life. I thought I did know, but when I tried to pursue things that I thought were meant for me, some barriers showed themselves up and I did not know what to do but run away from them.

I need this trip to Europe, and to spend a week or so in Italy on my own so that I can just be alone among strangers and find out who I need to be, and who I want to be. I certainly hope that among the Renaissance masterpieces I will be able to figure some things out and be inspired by the genius of these Italian maestros.

In a way, I feel like Santiago selling his sheep to make the cross to Africa, to pursue something that is so unclear and yet the certainty that the journey will change my life is there. I cannot be anymore intimidated and excited. See you in three weeks’ time.

I am my own worst enemy

Background story #1:
Sometime during my junior year in college, my buddies and I seriously got into tennis. So serious that we were actually playing 2-3 sets a day everyday (though it lasted for only a week, but that is a major achievement for us lazy bums). Considering I once represented my junior high in a national tennis tournament, I had a bit of air about me being the best tennis player in our group.
We were playing doubles, and I was serving to this guy, who is overweight and has never hold a tennis racket in his life. I gave him a considerably soft serve, knowing he would not be able to return it otherwise. However, through sheer beginner’s luck, he returned my serve so perfectly that I stopped on my track momentarily before running after the ball. For some reason, I was in shock a little longer than I realized, and before I knew it, the ball hit my crotch. At 120 miles an hour.
I could only imagine how painful it must have been for guys to be hit between the legs until that day. That day, I experienced such immense pain that I could do nothing but keeled over and lay on the ground in a fetal position. I tried not to cry, because there’s no crying in tennis. From that day onwards, I stop underestimating overweight dudes.

2. Background story #2:
Also sometime during junior year at college, we trashed IU in the most humiliating manner at Ross Aide. The student section was just living it up, throwing cups and abuse at the IU bench, and this guy decided to rush the field. Needless to say, the cops were on him immediately. Five minutes after this kid got arrested, the players went up to the student section and started pulling us down to the field. The cops could not be bothered to arrest all of us so they let us roam free on the field. I’m quite sure that kid who rushed and got arrested is still kicking himself for not waiting for another five minutes. It’s almost tragic.
Anyway, we were happily walking on the field, after all, this was our first and last time rushing Ross Aide, and I was happily chatting away as I normally do. The next section of this story is verbatim from my buddy KY: I was just walking and pretending to listen to you (KY is a guy, obviously) when suddenly I didn’t hear your voice anymore. I got worried because you probably noticed I was half-listening and had gotten mad at me, so I turned to look at you. Only I couldn’t find you. I looked around me, and you were nowhere to be seen. Then somehow I decided to look down, and there you were, flat on the ground. The funny thing is, there was nothing anywhere near us that would trip you and make you fall. So how the hell did you end up there?
My answer: there was a TV cable, and by the time KY saw me on the ground, the TV crew had gone elsewhere along with the cable. Of course no one ever buys my story of the phantom cable. But I swear, that was what tripped me.

Background story #3:
I was living in Beijing, and it was fall. I had the urge to eat instant noodles, so I boiled some water. As I was pouring the water into the bowl of instant noodles using my left hand, for reason that is beyond my own understanding, my right hand decided it needed washing. So, I burned my own hand. Despite having put my injured hand under running water for minutes till my fingers turned pruny, gigantic blisters still formed on the middle and ring fingers, and my pinky. What did I do next? I consulted Dr. Peng online and checked WebMd.com. So the next day I went to get some needles and sterile solution, I was going to do it the GI Jane way and treat my own burnt fingers. As long as I kept everything clean, I would be all right.
However, I had a vision of my own clumsiness doing more damage to my already damaged fingers. My overactive imagination started imagining things like what happened if I got myself infected? I was in Beijing after all! The air alone carries so much dirt and germs. So, I let myself be persuaded to see a local doctor at our school’s hospital by my Beijing crew. They were worried for me, but at the same time found the whole thing very entertaining. (Prior to burning my fingers, I tripped over a stool and fell at a club, then a week later, I sprained my ankle). They escorted me to the hospital, which could very well have come out from a Stephen King’s novel. I can’t even begin to describe how delipidated the building was, and how could I even trust that they would do a better job than me using a sewing needle to pop my blisters?
An old Chinese doctor saw me and was shocked at the size of my blisters. He then took a syringe and used it to pop my blisters (see, I could’ve done this at the comfort of my own apartment) . I was in so much fear of the hygiene in this hospital that I started crying. My friends thought I was being overly dramatic; I was at first, but the old Chinese doctor also poked my healthy flesh with the syringe while draining my blister. My limited Chinese was not adequate enough to tell this old guy that his eyesight was failing him and that he was now hurting me more. So I just cried. And he patted my shoulder, telling me “Bie ku le.” (= don’t cry). I would stop crying if you took that needle out of my healthy finger! But he was old and he was nice to me, so I forgave him in the end.
I can still see the faint marks on my fingers from this misadventure that started from a craving for an instant noodle. I use oven gloves now more often in the kitchen.

Why I am writing this post:
I fell down a few days ago at the parking lot. If you ask me how I fell, I’d tell you that there was a TV cable. Truth is, I tripped over my own foot. Luckily, no one was around, but like Sis B said, there probably was an old auntie sitting behind a wheel who saw me trip and fall and started laughing at me in the safety of her car.
Then today, I tripped myself twice and nearly fell. Thankfully I did not fall. Had I fallen the first time, I would probably be needing another 7 stitches on my eyebrows. Had I fallen the second time, I would have lost my two front teeth.
I tried to analze how I could possible tripped myself THREE times.
Conclusion: my obsession for wide leg pants. On both days, I am wearing wide leg pants with folded cuffs. Apparently, my pointy shoes tend to get themselves caught on these cuffs. Hence tripping me over. Note to self: pair wide leg pants with round toe shoes.

If you know anyone who is a bigger hazard to themselves, please let me know. I would love to compare stories.

Into the Unknown

What would you do if you find yourself on a boat, all alone and miserable, and the only way to escape the unhappiness is to jump into the dark water with an unfathomable depth?

Would you feel nervous, scared, excited, challenged?

I am feeling a mix of emotions for tomorrow, as I will be jumping head first into this water at 10 am. I am scared and nervous, because I know I cannot fail and I cannot screw up. I need to be able to swim well in this unknown water and keep my head above the water. I am scared of the waves that may hit me unexpected and choke me, keeping me underwater one second too long.

I am trying to turn this fear and nervousness into something positive. I try to imagine myself as Santiago of the Alchemist, when he was tricked and robbed of everything he had in Africa and had to rely on himself and his faith in the universe to help him get back on his feet. I believe that what I am pursuing right now is what I am meant to do. Nothing makes me happier and more satisfied than writing, and this is the one passion, apart from sports, that I have felt strongly throughout my life. I believe that this is where my heart lies and this is my calling.

But there is a nagging feeling of doubt that keeps creeping up in my mind. What if I’m wrong? What if this is a false alarm, triggered by my current situation? What if this is just a trick my mind is playing on me as an easy way out of my problems? 

I want to be sure that what I am doing is the right thing to do. I want to know and be reassured that this is the path that I have been looking for. I want to believe that the fear, the nervousness and the doubt is just a barrier my rational mind is putting up to quiet my heart’s desire. 

Taking a risk is not only putting yourself on the line, but also living with the consequences of going forward or moving backwards. I can let the negative feelings take over, and take a step back, only to wonder the what ifs had I taken a deep breath and let fate take over.

I will take this risk and jump head first into the water.  And I will swim with all my might towards my destination. Whether I reach it or drown along the way, it is secondary. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t find out what’s outside this boat. 

Wish me luck.

My Guilty Pleasure: So You Think You Can Dance

As far as embarrassment goes, I have to say this admission of guilty pleasure tops my list.

I have been a fan of this show since last year, when I caught Season 2 on Channel 5. I cannot explain why or how I got hooked; it may just be the idleness I was living through while job searching in Singapore, but I got hooked all right. So much so that I would glue myself to Youtube every Friday night to catch bits and pieces of the latest episodes, and my Friday night habits still carry on to today. For those who are unfamiliar with the show, it’s basically the dancing version of American Idol.

I have hit the dance floor many times during my college years and even now. And with all modesty (really) I think I’m not that bad a dancer, but there are times when I watch this show that I wish I could move and pull off tricks and lines like the dancers do in the show. My most favorite part is watching the hip-hop dancers or the breakers doing other genres and hence being put right out of their comfort zones.

My favorite thus far is Ivan from Season 2. He started the season dancing Salsa and drew lots of criticism from the judges. From then onwards however, you really see him grow as a dancer as he attempted Argentine Tango and contemporary. His development wowed and impressed the judges, even his contempoerary piece made one of the judges (and yours truly) teared up a bit. But seriously, his dance routine with his partner to Annie Lennox’s Why is really, very beautiful. It’s indeed impressive to see someone who picked up dancing and had no training whatsoever can develop so much and so fast.

So now we are on Season 4, and I am still religiously following the show. If I lived in the US, I would probably be wasting my money calling in my votes for my favorite couples. I’m excited to see two hip hop dancers and a B-boy in the top 5 couples this season, but I foresee the B-boy getting eliminated this coming week. The girls mostly come from the contemporary genre, and it’s not as exciting as the boys because I guess contemporary gives you more flexibility in dancing. I’m just theorizing my own rationality, so those dancers out there, don’t come to me with your knives out.

There is something magical with dance, I suppose. How one can translate music and lyrics into movement is simply magical. That is the case with Ivan’s contemporary routine to Why. You know what the song is all about, and when you see him and his partner translating the emotions of the song into their movement, you’re just captivated.

It’s amazing to see the kinds of choreography that are being danced out each week, and I think this is the most interesting part about the arts. How does one find the inspiration to paint, to create a melody, to find movements that touch people emotionally? I asked this to a band member I knew in New York once, and he said that he simply heard the music in his mind. He is an atheist, but he believes that his gift to hear and write music is a divine inspiration.

I don’t want to get too deep into this post, since it is just supposed to be my admission to my liking this dance show. A friend of mine has called it the stupidest thing he’d ever seen, but to each his own, right?

Random Tired Thoughts

Finally some breathing space.

I had so much I wanted to write about during these past few days when I was tied up with work, but now that I finally have some free time, my mind is completely blank.

I have to admit, it has been a struggle going through work these days. My moods have been up and down; one day I am all motivated to stay put and fight through my troubles, only to find myself completely discourage the moment I step into my office. Another day, I arrive in my office with a frown and zero motivation to do anything. Everyday, I drag myself to get up and get to work, and finally I realize, regardless of my moods, I simply have no more passion for what I am doing.

I often question myself though, is it just me giving up, or is the fight really not worth fighting for? I know that surviving this environment would be a major character building and learning experience, but at what costs do I go through such life training? Is it worth it to lose my temper, coming home late and in a bad mood, losing sleep at night? Does my decision to leave the company mean I’m running away from my problems?

At the same time, I am finally at peace with my decision to take a major gamble in my life. I will leave food science and take my chances in writing through public relations. I wrote my first press release (albeit a fictional one), and I remember feeling intimidated when I was planning my drafts, but I felt exhilarated the moment I finished it. It helps a lot too that I got the highest mark in my class- pat on the back, please- and I feel justified that what I am doing now is right.

So I suppose I can tie this back to my first post about the importance of passion at work. At the end of the day, which is more important for me- the title, the money in my account, or following my heart and doing what I REALLY want to do instead of following the rules? I am happy to say that I finally found some sliver of peace in my mind and that glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Hang on little tomato.