Lovely reminder of those days

Was drawn to this on Webtoon.

It reminded me of those days in my 20s when this made me giddy.

😁 

On playing with fireworks...

There's so much peace now, knowing there is no one hovering around, going 'She is volunteering because of me'.

And the truth of the matter is, I didn't know I was bothered by it, until the void of it happened this year. 

The heart just wants to play. 

My purpose and intention has always been that simple. 

But that narration was twisted.

A sick, twisted sense of joke? 

The need to be recognized as someone important enough to 'make' me volunteer?

The remark left a bitter feeling inside where it matters. 

Where all things were in their places when it comes to serving God.

I thought I had let it go, but turns out I had just buried it instead.

Now, without;

It feels like an oppression was lifted. 

It feels like a fresh breath of air.

It feels like nothing is there now to corrupt what God said is good. 

It feels like I should celebrate.

Because in all the things that has happened, in the midst of it all, I was set free.

Thank you, God. 

My Father who sees all things and knows all things. 

I didn't know it could be so free.

It's taking some time to breathe in this air. 

To sit and bask in this freedom. 

Where the heart matters...

Let's not take it out of context. 

Of two worlds apart.

Of dreams and wishful thinking.

This is a pleasant one though.

One that I would say Yes to.

As crazy as it sounds to.

Yet maybe I am just sleepy.

Just as he is being silly. 

Down the MBTI rabbit hole we go...

The supposedly 'fun' personality test done today led to some interesting unexpected results.

But it got me analyzing, they shouldn't have specifically ask about writing.

Maybe music or art. 

Any other creative options but writing. 

Because.... 

a) Creative writing was a course I wanted to get into. 

b) I had done world building once upon a time. Don't remember what happened to it, but I remember thinking hard and thoroughly about it. 

c) I still beta read for Nana, if that counts. 

d) It reminded me that I have a blog. 

So maybe it's time to remind myself to go back to being abit more NFP when I'm off work. 

The last 3 months and Sayonara

The last 3 months...

You taught us how to make salted fish meatballs. 

You spoke in all the old Hokkien that I have forgotten with the lack of use day to day. 

You taught me there's such thing as good days for haircut in a month. 

Even though I was there for your sake, you maintained old gentleman propriety all the way to the end, through and through.

Whether it was in making sure I got home safely, or telling me to get you if anything arise in the middle of the night. 

Or in all the meals we had together. 

The nyonya fishes you bought just for me and you made sure I was accountable to eating.

In how you tried sparkling water and liked it, Korean fried chicken which wasn't your thing and consistently still enjoying fries at the old age of 95.

And even to the very end, in how you worried everyone would be of heartache when your time was up and it was Sayonara.

My earliest memory of you is one in Klang where you asked me, or rather chuckled proudly, about your grandchildren. 

And of you in the big container lorry, packing away all our boxes and furniture for the big move back.

Despite all the proper rankings on your side of the family, there has never been a proper calling name for you, who is simply Uncle to us.

The hope was for you to have a peaceful death in your sleep and I'm glad it happened. 

R.I.P., Uncle. 

Turning over to the other side

There was a time when I couldn't imagine still being here today. 

Where the darkness whispers 'one slit is all you need', Your goodness have won instead. Over and over again. Every single time.

Thank you Jesus.

Without You, I would not be here today.

A decade old roommate.

'I love you'... 

'Thank you'... 

'It's ok if you want to leave'...

Bold words spoken last night. 

To the stubborn old 84 yo lady.

You stepped in and help raised me.

So many years of sharing the room.

Of locked doors and using the key. 

Of putting up with my shouting. 

Of my mess. 

Of forcing a cup of milo in before school. 

Of blue pea flowers.

Of laundry. 

Of marketing. 

Of cooking. 

Of sewing. 

Of buying my clothes. 

Of keeping house. 

It's because of you, that I learned sleeping on wood is perfectly fine. Because of you, I walk properly. 

Because of you, I eat daun kaduk and bitter gourd now. 

Because of you, no orh kuih or kaya can ever be up to the standards you have set. 

Or that unreplicable fried rice with things I hate in it as a kid, but dearly missed now. 

I'm glad you traveled to Melbourne with me. 

That you had that chance to fly and have a holiday experience on Puffing Billy and the 12 Apostles with me. 

Be free now. 

Rather then be here with that attitude of 'old already useless'.

I'm sorry I couldn't defend you or look after you in your old age.  

I rejoiced every time they shared a story and were annoyed by one of your stubborn actions or quirks. 

Because that is the only 2ee I know.

2ee with spunk and an attitude. 

R.I.P 2ee.

Thank you for letting me say goodbye.

I love you. 

12th June 2024

Class woes

Lesson 1 I learned to use the 3rd inner part of the 3rd finger.

Lesson 2 I was told to make a hole in between that would allow another stick to slip through, so I had to use the 2nd inner part instead to make way.

 

And then there was no further comment on that except to keep practicing and improving. 

 

Until today. Lesson 5 & 6 (because I missed one and had replacement).

We spent maybe 5 minutes on the position.

11 o'clock to the bass drum. Everything has to be reachable in place.

Then it was all about the fingers. A whole hour went by just talking about my fingers.

Apparently using the 2nd inner part leaves me with less room to bounce the stick.

So it was back to the first handling. Which gives me cramp from lack of use.

Then my fingers were too stiff, I was holding it too hard, and so on and so forth.

 

I was upset. It seemed like I wasn't getting things right no matter how I tried.

To sum it all up, I was warned it's the years of holding it wrongly that is messing me up right now.

And if I don't get it down correctly, I won't be able to go far.

But I don't even remember how I held it all these years.

No one ever mentioned what was the right way.

At the end he realized maybe the problem wasn't the thumb and where it landed on the middle finger, but the rest of my fingers blocking the way.

I acknowledged it could be because I am used to curling everything up for the piano.

We even checked out my flexibility on the piano. *eye rolls*

This is suppose to fix all the wrongs.

It's suppose to be fun.

But putting that leap in the heart when I hear someone play a beat I like, into my own playing is...hard.

It's harder to overcome that feeling of failure than I thought it would be.

 

A new season

Why does it feel like my whole heart was going to be displayed bare and raw on all the heads?

I thought I have gotten through it.

The disappointment of being lied that class was going to resume in February but instead was left hanging. 

The whole ordeal with skin peeled off 3 days before Christmas because it was decided during the last practice that we needed to turn our sticks around for a louder effect. 

The switch meant the balance point was higher and that was where finger meet corner of steel and loses some skin. 

No one even noticed it bled during practice, even when I got blood all over the drum head. 

And then to be told after the Christmas performance that I was dragging. 

Yes. I know. I was so afraid I was going to scrape the same location on my finger again. 

Just like how now I'm afraid I am going to be a disappointment from the start. 

For it sounded horrible. 

Even I could tell. 

I had no idea what to play for him to showcase what I know. 

So I did something lame just to have anything come out. 

Because. Yet. In spite. Despite. Dang it. 

I want this.

I still want this. 

Not because of some lack of people situation. 

Maybe not even a God calling thing. 

Just a selfishly human desire to hear oneself and be happy. 

I want to make happy memories of playing. 

The Christmas gift

There was no way on this earth side it could have been known... 

~That Cushion is a boy and turns 6 this year.

~That I was dreading bringing out Machikoro (because he might throw or even tear the cards) and I was looking for something cardless like this.

~That I been wanting to play something that's simple with all the little ones now they have come of age. 

So I am just awestruck that this checks all the boxes. 

Dear Odie2

It breaks my heart to see you all broken like this.

Even more so to hear the news that we have to change your chassis.

I have barely gotten any mileage with you and your first accident had to be such a major one. 

Thank you... 

For the convenience going through tolls with your build-in TnG tag.

For the few naps I have had in you. 

For the 6am drives to the wet market during the years in lockdown. 

For the random road trips by the river and through the paddy fields. 

For the long distances you cover to Robina beach. 

For the trips up to Batu Ferringhi's Starbucks, Hard Rock and Rasa Sayang.

I grew confident and bold in my driving because of you. 

The speed we got up to was only possible because it was you. 

And it was your strong body that is what saved me from what might have been a worse scenario.

I look forward to the new you.

The new chassis that we will go road trips outstation with. 

Every bit of you will still be an original part from your manufacturer's. 

And in the meantime, you are dearly missed. 

I know you are in good hands, Odie2. 

In God we trust. 

1st Major Damage to Odie2

'God is holding you' 

No words can describe the feeling of knowing that to its fullness in a situation like that.

I got away with a bump on the head, some bruises and a scratch.

It is significant to know all the people that are there for you in a moment like this. 

Even more so a God that protected you. 

You never stop learning....

Trying my best to be a good mentor, and at the final leg of this small project....

What else can go wrong?

Laughable moment in service

Vroom vroom vroom!

Someday I hope to look back and still be very amused by how I sound like a Lamborghini on a 60km per hour road here. A runaway racing horse taking some dainty folks in a carriage for a ride. 

May I always burn with such vigor for You. 

Scissors that matters

It's been many years since I took this out. 

One of my oldest memories involved nipping my mother's finger with this. 

I don't remember how it happened, but I remember all of a sudden there was a good amount of blood all over the floor, the cloth and even on this scissors. 

It happened late in the night as I also remember the hushed tones in the chaos because my father was already asleep. 

I had some polka-dot pajamas bottoms in those days that I'm sure were formed from cloth with these. 

Dark blue with white dots. 

I wore them at the wake.

There was not many other pieces of clothing that did not have any red or bright colors on it. 

That sticky brown part at the tip looks abit like it has dried blood on it.

It is probably only my imagination.... fueled by a what if, a longing, a missing of someone I don't even remember what it felt like to have had anymore. 

But I can't bear to clean it properly. Just in case. 

2ee had her own pair of black scissors that looked even more menacing than this one. 

She was also always making me stuff from scratch in the good old days. 

I hope it is still around somewhere for me to claim ownership on. 

Lost and found

I am always misplacing or losing small things. 

This time it is the back piece to my stub earring. 

And for as long as I have been a Christian, I have somehow always found back the little things that mattered to me.

It takes a while. A pause that I have to take. Sit still and be attentive to that gentle nudge inside.

Last night it told me to fluff my blanket, which I did. And I heard the sound of something small bouncing off my bed and a few more times on the floor. I just knew it was the piece.

But I couldn't tell or see where it went even though I looked all around my bed.

So I waited. And trusted.

I was vaccuuming the edges and corners in my room. 

I somehow knew I had to be extra careful, just in case it turned up.

And it did. This tiny piece in a corner semi hidden in the shadows. 

God is faithful in the small things.

It's just an earring piece. So tiny that it could have gone down the toilet or the sink. And yet here it is. It turns up. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Reminiscence from bottles

A collection of bottles that have been laying around because I was a bit attached to them. 

I'm ready to say my last farewell now. Making the effort to keep them on a photo because a picture is worth a thousand words. 

I had really loved that they were each unique and they reminded me of where I have been and what I have done to have owned them. Some of these have even been full or half left when they got back here in Penang after flying or been across many miles from their origin. 

Starting from the left (front row), Fuze tea was from my business trip to Chihuahua, Mexico in 2016. It had all the ingredients, descriptions and details on it in Spanish. I  learned some Spanish from Duolingo that same year after the trip so it was fun to understand more words than just Tea after I had those lessons. Revisiting my fond memories are making me hesitate to throw this one away. Maybe I will keep just this one. Haha!

Next, Sama was a natural mineral water bottle from Amman, Jordan (from the Israel trip in 2018). Most likely given out on one of the buses on that trip. The website written on it is www.sama-jo.com; jo short for Jordan which I find interesting. It was also the first bottle I ever really noticed had a website and email (info@sama-jo.com) written on it.

Peach Bomb was from my Oct 2021 staycation at Katana; there was a mart below that had all sorts of imported food and drinks. It's sugar free, which is a rarity from the peach drinks I commonly see in the market. 

The C.C lemon is a Japan imported RM9.90 (super expensive!!) lemon drink from FamilyMart, bought on a random night after eating the buffet at Rasa Sayang's Spice Market Cafe in Batu Ferringhi in the same year. It was really too sour for me until I had to diluted it 5 times over. But it also ironically got me hooked on (diluted!!) lemon drinks until now. 

On the second row, we have Minere; another natural mineral water bottle from one of the short trips to Thailand years back. Then Pocari Sweat as well as Chilsung Cider were probably random purchases in Penang. Loved that they are considered the common stuff in Japan and Korea. 

There's been many others like them. 

Especially if they were not from Penang.

I somehow just have memories attached to the bottles I keep a little longer. 

There was a Sprite bottle from Egypt; it was bought from a petrol or diesel station stop, which was paid for in a foreign currency that I cannot remember now. The place was crowded and loud with teenagers in uniforms that looked like they just finished school. 

There's a Pepsi bottle with ginseng written on it that was also from Chihuahua; something we would never find here. At the time, I was amused to find the word 'ginseng' on a Pepsi bottle where everything else is written in Spanish! I'm not letting that one go just yet. 

There was a few mineral or spring water bottles from my Aussie trips that I had got rid of last year or so; memorable as they were tough and lasted at least since 2014. One of them, a blue one with pink cap might even have been from 2009!

The collection of everything orange

It's the first time my dad and I are both spending time together, taking photos of this arrangement.

A rare moment I am grateful for. 

Words

"Help me to rest in who I know You to be no matter how I feel."

It has been a long weekend.

Between failure and guilt.

Between tears and laughter.

Between joy and disappointment. 

Between love and resentment. 

You are still God. 

The gift of grace I need right now. 

Between who we are and what You call us to be. 

This distance is an illusion.

It is closer than I can feel.

"I am Yours." 

Engraved where it belonged.

Old Klang Taste + Moving on

 

I ironically left out the traditional type of fishcake commonly used in Korea which is thin and rectangular shaped although that was the inspiration to looking up the recipe for it.

Discovering that what I had made has the same salty, sweet and consistency of the fishball sauce I remember from primary school days was a pleasant surprise.

Those days of recess time where the fishballs deep fried in wantan skins and that big pot of sweet brown sauce to dip them in was just so divine. 

I would eat that every day if the fishballs wasn't sold out. Back then it was only about 20 cents each! 

 

~

God have heard me. 

 

November 15th I will officially go back to my old team. 

 

The mind games that went on for a few weeks after I applied for the position was emotionally exhausting. I'm thankful I have managed to stay firm with my answers and reasons. 

It is now over and I have signed the offer letter. 

 

I find comfort in the redemption story that has unfold this last year.

Ex boss had promised that if it was possible, he would have me back. 

And that have come to pass, 1 year and 3 months later. 

I have not wanted anything as much as this for a while now.

Which made it harder to surrender to God.

It was tough trying to keep the faith, believing His will for me and my desire to go will be the same.

Especially when the thoughts that my boss would also be praying to the same God persisted to make me feel smaller and unloved.

 

But God loves not one above the other. That is a truth no matter what happens. 

It is still the truth to hold on to even if anyone deny me of things because of this choice that I have made. 

 

There will be consequences, I am sure.

But knowing that God has won this battle for me makes me bolder and ready to stand firm for what I want and what I believe in.