the yellow foolscap letter

Today I find a bumpy envelope addressed to me.

“Birthday Girl!”

No name. Belated from the UK. My sister’s earnest handwriting.

Dear girl always makes me smile with her scrapbooking genius. Its a letter for me, written one part essay, one part instruction manual. “Super (wo) Man!!!”, it salutes, like a generous birthday greet. a superman cardboard cut-out falls out from the letter, except the cut-out is adorned with my face instead of o’ Kent (she even chose a picture she knows I favor).

And so I am greeted by a grinning ‘Super-Myself’ accompanied by four other strange looking parts of cardboard puzzle. What are those? The curiosity of a child approaching new toys fills me. What a treat. They are oddly shaped. They don’t look like they can fit together. For a moment, the fact that it could be a puzzle I was unable to piece mocked my recent musings for some jigsaw love. ( I am tired of coming home and being unconstructive in my free time, and decided jigsaws could be the missing cherry). I finally gave up her odd little cardboard bits, and read her manual on the flip side of the yellow foolscap letter.

“1 piece original cloak,” Ah. The red piece fitted neatly beneath ‘Super-Me’. Of course. Its Superman’s red cloak. “The original, the full-flavor, your cape is constantly introspective and self-improving, which can be a little tiring at times.” True.

“3 pieces special cloaks”. Genius. Interchangeable capes. For days when being red and shiny just isn’t enough. They’re exactly the same shape and size as Superman’s red cape, but these other ones are patterned, instead of plain graphic red. One of them- a street map. Another one, a mosiac of my scribbled name. The last one, she sketched Martin Luther King, Mahatma Ghandi, and Harvey Milk. The little buffet of male role models should be further analysed later. Meanwhile, the powers of these capes are named: Direction. Yourself. People. How well-thought out. Whenever I need divine intervention. What else can a person want?

The idea is winsome. She’s outdone herself again.

One thing that strikes me hard, how vulnerable i feel at the moment, and how my sister understands that I need strength and support. Thank you. Life doesn’t deal us with special capes. We have only bare flesh. Can people really own capes? perhaps. Capes sewn from experiences of hardship, capes borne out of love, capes modelled after iconic role models. We need capes. Because this journey called Life, I’m afraid sometimes we require superpowers.

Super-Me. She even included blue-tack so that I could attach the cape right away. But she stuck it right across my smiling mug. In my haste to remove the bluetack (for what? to confirm that the face was indeed mine?), the print from my mouth tears off slightly as well. So now Super-me is partially disfigured. I am missing some teeth and gum.

Even better, I hadn’t realize the significance of the blue-tack and tossed it aside for the colourful cardboard bits. Now I don’t have anything to fasten the cape onto Super-Me. And I have a disfigured grin. That is Everyday me. Flawed, and cape-less. Which isn’t so bad. What do you do if at age 24 you’re perfect and with perfect super-powers? What else would life have in store right?

No really, I’m not trying to put a nice spin to things. Naked and flawed Super-Me resonates with me. I am tired, tired, tired everyday from work. I wake up and I groan, I go to bed, and I wish i don’t wake up from my dreams. Optimism weaves in and out my consciousness, leaving me with yo-yo-ing spirits on a daily basis. I had thought this job was the best I could’ve scored after the months of searching. I don’t disagree yet. But yet the stress is getting the better of me. Sandwiched in this reality, I’m frantic and fidgety- am I stuck? Am I going to fail? Am I not going to be able to run away?

I’ll locate the blue tack.

P.s. how come the cardboard cut-outs smell like Play-doh?

Filed under: quirks, smilies, working world

Saturday Ingredients

The luxury of an early Saturday, with nothing laid out ahead of it. The trick, to start early- as early as you would a work day, and then coax yourself in believing its your secret Monday.

After my early morning driving lesson and a quick work appointment, I was free in town at 10.40am. It might still be morning, but Orchard was already packing up the weekend crowds. I was beside myself. What to do? What to throw into a Saturday to make it worth its while? What can I eat or taste on a Saturday in Orchard that will make my weekend sweeter? What can I occupy my time with downtown- a movie, a magazine browse and brunch, a quick coffee with a spontaneous friend? I was getting desperate. Nothing came to mind. Nothing sufficiently satisfying came to mind. I had the luxury of time ahead of me, and the only thing I could think of- was how I wouldn’t do the time justice.

The desperation broke finally, when I resigned myself to the weekend work I had planned for myself, and that no time is better than leisurely time spent at home. On the way home, I stopped at a bakery and bought an apple pie. Apple pies are a new favourite of mine, especially with those golden brown criss-crosses. On the train home, I nodded off- and reached my stop, with the happiness of knowing that my naptime, unlike on a work day, will be possible today. The last stop before home, a trip to the second hand book shop. Get a really really cheap weekend novel. Something trashy. I’ve been reading too much literature. In the end I chose Mark Haddon. Not really trashy. But will be entertaining.

Now I’m home. On my back against the arm of the sofa, the laptop on my tummy. A book, lunch waiting, a movie. And of course the weekend work. Here’s to a good one.

Filed under: smilies, working world

Part-time Fund-raiser, Full-time Mishap

Pretty satisfying day at work, no matter there is bring-home-work to boot –  no complaints from this trigger-easy idealist here. Compared to some days I spend in a blur in the new environment – not learning, not conversing or interacting, only devising, trying to outwit, impress with proposals set in fancy Microsoft o-seven layouts (verve colour theme only), today the roads are definitely well-signposted, and my energies directed. Emotions proceeded in upwardly mobile fashion today.

11.30 am. Mild frustration: Coordinating and liasing out-of-jobscope affairs. Today trying very hard not to offend the visionary second boss, produce the work she wants, without losing sight of my own butt. Failed. Stepped on the toes of ideas, was stumbling block of lofty ngo development, for a minute. Yes definitely want to get my salt’s worth working in non-profit – that is why I am fiddling with thehumanrightsandthewomens(in)equality even though its not in paid job function. Price: Just have to toggle between being new at everything. Note to self: Don’t burn fingers.

2.30am. Necessarily Reassuring: Finally confidently cornered Mr Talk this afternoon and reviewed my workload and confirmed that the next serve in court is his, not mine. Big fat sponsor must not swim away under our noses he says. No way, not on my watch, Mr Talk.

5.30pm. Intense Gratefulness: Mr UndertheRadar’s unexpected helpfulness and patience today won me over- upon my desperate attempts to fix a falling excel workbork. This strongly reaffirms my belief that I work amongst the good people. Good people on the ground, good people high up the ladder. Walking people textbooks. UndertheRadar’s dexterity and sensible, practical nature shines in sharp contrast to my short-sighted soaring, expenseless nature. UndertheRadar’s workcred offers me much room for thought and improvement -someone who seems inconspicuous and unpromising on the outset, but whose abilities grow on you, and manages to wean off distrust over time – never mind he doesn’t deliver sometimes, because the times he does, it will always be appreciated.

The Best Save of all: And so I leave for work recharged. Because today has been a fruitful day. My own efforts over the last two weeks (which caused me to let visionary second boss’s visions slide) are bearing fruit: sponsors are getting back with interest. Working for a cause at the end of the day is the ultimate save-all. If you’ve had a goworkod day, great; but even if its been an absolutely thankless dreadful day, you’ll know that at least you’re not slaving your eyes out for corporate soul-less greedy nothings. You’re trying to find synergy among altruistic, if not, pure spirits in today’s dark world.

Filed under: daily grind, smilies, working world

“Blogging is dead”

Perhaps my brand of blogging was never alive and kicking anyway. Its not scandalous, its not current, its nowhere regular, its overtly personal, and sometimes a little too much ego- everything is about me-me-me.

I really like the old man barber tucked in a garage in this side lane in Little India – which I discovered from looking out of my window seat in the office. I’m gonna interview him soon… take a week’s worth of pictures perhaps and put it up here or somewhere else- who cares if blogging is dead. Its fun.

There are a lot of more reasons why I really adore the location of my current office. The wackiest characters you sight. The unadulterated pace of leisure- you find in the old, solvent, puberscent alike. Its an ease you’d be hard-pressed to find I daresay in most parts of urban or heartland Singapore: a skip in the step, a half-second lazy paddle on a bicycle with no helmet, a reflective moment over cold bean curd dessert.

It doesn’t hurt that my job is very much like its surroundings; that is- friendly, laidback, and with soul.

Filed under: daily grind, smilies