Yes, yes, this is a continuation of the super-mammoth post at the beginning of the year. I promise though, that this one *shouldn't* be as long and/or windy...
I've done up to 7 things I'm looking forward to happen/achieve this year. Here's some more, though I don't think it will make 11.
8. I've been living in our current house for a while. In fact, this September will mark the tenth year anniversary since we've travelled to the solicitor's office and got the keys in our hot little hands. Throughout these years, we have done quite a few... reorganising, redecorating, re... whatever it is you want to call it. Still, there are so many things we've accumulated, clutters we can't seem to get rid of. So my goal this year, is simply to decluter; to finish what we've started as a second study, and to make every room in the house look... mmm... tidy-looking :)
9. By February this year, it will be 2 years before my husband turns the big 40. Whilst he is adamant he doesn't want a party, I want to give him something memorable to celebrate this wonderful, important milestone. I have started gathering photos for the powerpoint presentation I want to create, a kind of 'Fred, This Is Your Life' presentation. So I need to get myself into gear and actually create some slides :)
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I Find Myself Standing At A Crossroad...
I can just see this turning into another long-ish, mammoth-sized post, so if you are reading this, the only pre-warning wisdom I can impart is... bear with me - I will get to the point... eventually...!
A bit of a background story. Up until the time I married my husband, and even for up to a year afterwards, I became really REALLY clucky. I had this vision of us trying to conceive almost immediately; I even, at one stage, contemplated how ideal it would be to conceive during our overseas honeymoon; how great of a story it would be. At that time, my niece was about two months old and growing, and, having been a product of 'the baby in the family', with a large age difference between me and my older sisters, I have always envisioned how great it would be for my child to have a playmate around the same age.
And then my personal situation started to change. For one, I began having a kick-ass job, working as Marketing and Communications Assistant in an Engineering company. It was a job in which I found my niche as a quasi Event Co-ordinator, and in the 14 months I was in this long-term contract job, I gained a lot of skills, experiences, worked and met with some wonderful, lovely people, and got the respect I could only so far imagine or seen depicted in movies. I loved this job SO MUCH that when my director regretfully informed me that his director above him wouldn't approve his proposal to make me permanent, the first thing I did, after bowing my head and accepting this not-so-great news, was to vacate the office, call Fred, and CRY!
You know that phrase 'when one door closes, another one opens'? For a while, I didn't want to believe it; I really thought I've failed, both myself and Fred; that I've had a perfect job but couldn't manage to keep it, even though I've busted my ass for it.
Well, I was wrong, wasn't I? Out of the blue, a recruitment agency in which I've signed up... oh, I don't know, about 3-4 years prior, call me to tell me there's a position going at BCE. So I thought it can't hurt to try. Went for the interview, and the recruitment agency rang back whilst I was on another interview somewhere else to tell me that I've gotten the job.
From then on, job-wise, things were on the improve. At the same time, I have also gained a nephew, and Fred and I were often called for babysitting duties. I have often said that my husband was a kids' magnet, for good reason; babies/small children seem to latch on to him. Maybe it's his utterly silliness that the children can relate to; maybe it's the fact that his face could be so animated that fascinate the little people.
For the longest time, I felt this pinch and pang in my heart every time I saw my husband cuddling or playing with my little niece; she was so taken by him she would just crawl up to him and sit on his lap, demanding that he'd read to her her favourite book; she would gulp whatever Fred tried to feed her I was tempted to see if she would eat gruel off the ground; she would CRY if Fred moved too far away from her pram whilst we were strolling through the supermarket aisles.
My cluckiness, however, began to dissipate (rather rapidly, if I recall) when my nephew reached age one upwards. I guess this is where the whole parents and non-parents have difference of opinions, but simply put, the kids were driving both Fred and I absolutely bonkers; the fact that they scream and plough into Fred even though they've been reprimanded by both Fred and their parents; the fact that both my niece and nephew would get progressively louder when Fred and I are having a conversation with his brother and sister-in-law, and there isn't anything any of us can say that can shut them up - not even the threat of 'Uncle Fred and Auntie Maria will go home if you don't behave'; or that in the course of two hours that the kids were in our house, there would be chips crumbs and papers all over our carpet...
In addition to this, there is... let's just call it my not-so-rosy past, eh?? I didn't have a set of loving parents growing up; my Mother was an overbearing, constantly worried-over-the-smallest-thing, harsh disciplinary individual, in which the slightest disobedience would hear her wrath for DAYS, if not YEARS (I'm not joking - she will bring up past behaviours she had scolded us for every single time). My Father was an arrogant, cheating son-of-a-bitch who believed, despite the fact that he was living in the 20th, and 21st century, that he was the main breadwinner and therefore, whatever he demanded should be granted and all hell would break loose to anyone who even attempted to defy him. Together, they formed a very toxic set of parents, who grumbled and whinged about one another... to their children, which put said children in a very awkward position.
I guess, with all these factors weighing on my mind, I have, first and foremost, a very strong conviction that I would never put my child(ren) through what my parents have put me through; I would be lenient, I would give my child(ren) choices, I would trust him/her/them, and I would, at one stage, let go of the rein completely. I also have, about a million doubts and apprehensions about undertaking the immense responsibility of being a parent; I watch these movies (yes, perhaps NOT the best examples to draw on), most depicting how much angst there are between mothers and their teenage daughter(s); how much parents could be at their wits' ends trying to guide their children through lives; and how, even despite your best efforts, your children might still hate you, don't want to do anything with you, refuse to share their problems with you, or worse, take matters into their own hands and do something reckless and irreversible such as taking their own lives. I only need to look at my non-existing relationship with my parents to know that to this day, there are things they have done and put me through I can't forgive, nor get over; there are scars they've left in my heart that will never heal, and still bleed from time to time.
Deep down inside me, hearing all these tales, even from my work colleagues, about how manipulative some mothers can be, how they can drive you absolutely crazy with the simplest gesture, the seemingly heartless phrases - all of which I can relate to but don't never reciprocate with tales of my own for fear of revealing all that happened in my previous life, pre-meeting my husband - there is one conviction that I hold firm, a belief that is still unwavered; that the parents should be the adults, and therefore they should know better.
Little by little, my cluckiness is resurfacing. Lately, particularly when I'm baking, I wish fervently, and can easily envision a little daughter standing right next to me, helping me fold the batter and licking the dough off the wooden spoon. I have a similar vision when I'm making cards, delighting in the possibility of being able to show my little girl the marvel of creating something out of thin air with just a few stamps and colouring pencils. I look at my husband and wonder whether our son would look like him, what personality traits he would inherit from either of us; I long to see those little, chubby, flailing hands reaching out, and my husband's arms reaching out in reflex. I've begun wondering how it feels to have someone call you 'Mummy', and to have the word 'Daddy' directed at my husband.
On the other side of the coin, I still, really, really love my current life. I can only imagine, from the stories I've heard, from witnessing first-hand how Fred's brother and sister-in-law cope with two children, that children consume so much of your time; time that I, at the moment, constantly whinge about not having enough of, having to juggle full-time work, my passions for writing/cardmaking, doing general housework, spending quality time with my husband and family. I love being able to stay up until 2AM, writing to my heart's content when the inspiration and the imagery inside my head is bursting out of me; I love being able to not wake up until 10AM, or later, and do so very very peacefully.
In hindsight though, the list of luxuries above pale in comparison to the effect children might have on my relationship with my darling husband. We have a very special, wonderful relationship,he and I; we have this amazing connection. It has taken both of us a long time to get here, with my husband mostly working relentlessly in bringing me out of my shell; for me to not be afraid to assert myself and contribute to discussions instead of saying "It's up to you" just to keep the peace; for me to show my affection more without feeling that I'm being silly.
But kids change everything, and I'm afraid that we might lose what we have. I don't want to resent Fred, for whatever reason Mothers resent their husbands; I can easily see me doing that, however inadvertently; from blaming him for the labour pains to the fact that I'm a big blob when I'm heavily pregnant. I am cranky when I don't get enough sleep as it is, so I can only imagine what kind of foul mood I will be in when I get waken up several times throughout the night when our child wants nutrition, or requires a nappy change. Most of all, I don't want the practicality of raising a child and maintaining order in the house to drift us apart rather than bring us closer together. I really, really don't want to be one of those couples (in the words of my friend Leanne on her blog French Kissing) whose highlight is watching a telemovie on a Friday night, who only has sex once a week; or worse, who become bitter at one another and exist in the same house solely for the purpose of providing some kind of a stabil environment for the child(ren), but has long forgotten why they were drawn to each other in the first place...
And now that I've rambled pointlessly, I shall stop at that and contemplate some more.
A bit of a background story. Up until the time I married my husband, and even for up to a year afterwards, I became really REALLY clucky. I had this vision of us trying to conceive almost immediately; I even, at one stage, contemplated how ideal it would be to conceive during our overseas honeymoon; how great of a story it would be. At that time, my niece was about two months old and growing, and, having been a product of 'the baby in the family', with a large age difference between me and my older sisters, I have always envisioned how great it would be for my child to have a playmate around the same age.
And then my personal situation started to change. For one, I began having a kick-ass job, working as Marketing and Communications Assistant in an Engineering company. It was a job in which I found my niche as a quasi Event Co-ordinator, and in the 14 months I was in this long-term contract job, I gained a lot of skills, experiences, worked and met with some wonderful, lovely people, and got the respect I could only so far imagine or seen depicted in movies. I loved this job SO MUCH that when my director regretfully informed me that his director above him wouldn't approve his proposal to make me permanent, the first thing I did, after bowing my head and accepting this not-so-great news, was to vacate the office, call Fred, and CRY!
You know that phrase 'when one door closes, another one opens'? For a while, I didn't want to believe it; I really thought I've failed, both myself and Fred; that I've had a perfect job but couldn't manage to keep it, even though I've busted my ass for it.
Well, I was wrong, wasn't I? Out of the blue, a recruitment agency in which I've signed up... oh, I don't know, about 3-4 years prior, call me to tell me there's a position going at BCE. So I thought it can't hurt to try. Went for the interview, and the recruitment agency rang back whilst I was on another interview somewhere else to tell me that I've gotten the job.
From then on, job-wise, things were on the improve. At the same time, I have also gained a nephew, and Fred and I were often called for babysitting duties. I have often said that my husband was a kids' magnet, for good reason; babies/small children seem to latch on to him. Maybe it's his utterly silliness that the children can relate to; maybe it's the fact that his face could be so animated that fascinate the little people.
For the longest time, I felt this pinch and pang in my heart every time I saw my husband cuddling or playing with my little niece; she was so taken by him she would just crawl up to him and sit on his lap, demanding that he'd read to her her favourite book; she would gulp whatever Fred tried to feed her I was tempted to see if she would eat gruel off the ground; she would CRY if Fred moved too far away from her pram whilst we were strolling through the supermarket aisles.
My cluckiness, however, began to dissipate (rather rapidly, if I recall) when my nephew reached age one upwards. I guess this is where the whole parents and non-parents have difference of opinions, but simply put, the kids were driving both Fred and I absolutely bonkers; the fact that they scream and plough into Fred even though they've been reprimanded by both Fred and their parents; the fact that both my niece and nephew would get progressively louder when Fred and I are having a conversation with his brother and sister-in-law, and there isn't anything any of us can say that can shut them up - not even the threat of 'Uncle Fred and Auntie Maria will go home if you don't behave'; or that in the course of two hours that the kids were in our house, there would be chips crumbs and papers all over our carpet...
In addition to this, there is... let's just call it my not-so-rosy past, eh?? I didn't have a set of loving parents growing up; my Mother was an overbearing, constantly worried-over-the-smallest-thing, harsh disciplinary individual, in which the slightest disobedience would hear her wrath for DAYS, if not YEARS (I'm not joking - she will bring up past behaviours she had scolded us for every single time). My Father was an arrogant, cheating son-of-a-bitch who believed, despite the fact that he was living in the 20th, and 21st century, that he was the main breadwinner and therefore, whatever he demanded should be granted and all hell would break loose to anyone who even attempted to defy him. Together, they formed a very toxic set of parents, who grumbled and whinged about one another... to their children, which put said children in a very awkward position.
I guess, with all these factors weighing on my mind, I have, first and foremost, a very strong conviction that I would never put my child(ren) through what my parents have put me through; I would be lenient, I would give my child(ren) choices, I would trust him/her/them, and I would, at one stage, let go of the rein completely. I also have, about a million doubts and apprehensions about undertaking the immense responsibility of being a parent; I watch these movies (yes, perhaps NOT the best examples to draw on), most depicting how much angst there are between mothers and their teenage daughter(s); how much parents could be at their wits' ends trying to guide their children through lives; and how, even despite your best efforts, your children might still hate you, don't want to do anything with you, refuse to share their problems with you, or worse, take matters into their own hands and do something reckless and irreversible such as taking their own lives. I only need to look at my non-existing relationship with my parents to know that to this day, there are things they have done and put me through I can't forgive, nor get over; there are scars they've left in my heart that will never heal, and still bleed from time to time.
Deep down inside me, hearing all these tales, even from my work colleagues, about how manipulative some mothers can be, how they can drive you absolutely crazy with the simplest gesture, the seemingly heartless phrases - all of which I can relate to but don't never reciprocate with tales of my own for fear of revealing all that happened in my previous life, pre-meeting my husband - there is one conviction that I hold firm, a belief that is still unwavered; that the parents should be the adults, and therefore they should know better.
Little by little, my cluckiness is resurfacing. Lately, particularly when I'm baking, I wish fervently, and can easily envision a little daughter standing right next to me, helping me fold the batter and licking the dough off the wooden spoon. I have a similar vision when I'm making cards, delighting in the possibility of being able to show my little girl the marvel of creating something out of thin air with just a few stamps and colouring pencils. I look at my husband and wonder whether our son would look like him, what personality traits he would inherit from either of us; I long to see those little, chubby, flailing hands reaching out, and my husband's arms reaching out in reflex. I've begun wondering how it feels to have someone call you 'Mummy', and to have the word 'Daddy' directed at my husband.
On the other side of the coin, I still, really, really love my current life. I can only imagine, from the stories I've heard, from witnessing first-hand how Fred's brother and sister-in-law cope with two children, that children consume so much of your time; time that I, at the moment, constantly whinge about not having enough of, having to juggle full-time work, my passions for writing/cardmaking, doing general housework, spending quality time with my husband and family. I love being able to stay up until 2AM, writing to my heart's content when the inspiration and the imagery inside my head is bursting out of me; I love being able to not wake up until 10AM, or later, and do so very very peacefully.
In hindsight though, the list of luxuries above pale in comparison to the effect children might have on my relationship with my darling husband. We have a very special, wonderful relationship,he and I; we have this amazing connection. It has taken both of us a long time to get here, with my husband mostly working relentlessly in bringing me out of my shell; for me to not be afraid to assert myself and contribute to discussions instead of saying "It's up to you" just to keep the peace; for me to show my affection more without feeling that I'm being silly.
But kids change everything, and I'm afraid that we might lose what we have. I don't want to resent Fred, for whatever reason Mothers resent their husbands; I can easily see me doing that, however inadvertently; from blaming him for the labour pains to the fact that I'm a big blob when I'm heavily pregnant. I am cranky when I don't get enough sleep as it is, so I can only imagine what kind of foul mood I will be in when I get waken up several times throughout the night when our child wants nutrition, or requires a nappy change. Most of all, I don't want the practicality of raising a child and maintaining order in the house to drift us apart rather than bring us closer together. I really, really don't want to be one of those couples (in the words of my friend Leanne on her blog French Kissing) whose highlight is watching a telemovie on a Friday night, who only has sex once a week; or worse, who become bitter at one another and exist in the same house solely for the purpose of providing some kind of a stabil environment for the child(ren), but has long forgotten why they were drawn to each other in the first place...
And now that I've rambled pointlessly, I shall stop at that and contemplate some more.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
'Recap 2010-Plans for 2011' Post (Part 3)
Gee we always say the year has gone quick but when you spell it out like I've just done in the previous two posts, you could definitely pack a lot in in a year's time.
I'm taking a leaf out of my friend's Liss' blog Frills in the Hills and create an '11 Things I'm Looking Forward to 2011'.
1. I'm looking forward to have a better work-life integration. I love my job - I really, really do. But if you look at my previous posts, apart from our big US trip, everything that has happened last year revolved around my work, and I am conscious of the fact that I do very little outside of work; I don't socialise much, I become a hermit, I close myself in at home and most of that is spent sitting on the couch, either watching TV or writing. So this year, I'm going to do a bit more of 'other stuff'.
2. Hmmm.... ok, this will also serve as a reminder when I start bitching about Fred's family. Contrary to the (silent) upheavals strengthening the tension, and yes, my resentment towards almost every member of Fred's family member last year, Fred and I had a good time at Christmas, and again at New Year's, chatting with his brothers/sister/sister-in-law. And so this year I'm going to continue that and reacquaint myself with them; going to the movies, having a good ol' girl chat with sister-in-law and Fred's sister... fun things like that.
3. This year WILL see me more actively trying to publish my book. For starters, I will join the Queensland Writers' Association and enjoy the networking that comes from being a part of this group.
4. I would like to get back to the things I've neglected in the name of writing my unpublished books. I think I will set aside a couple of hours each week resuming my TESOL qualification. I started this... oh... I think 2 years ago now, when my husband and I thought about changing the scenery and teaching English in Jakarta (a large market for it). Whilst this dream may not be realised, there is no reason as to why I can't finish what I started and get my TESOL diploma at least. I'm sure this can come in handy sometime, somewhere...
5. Still running along the same theme of number 4, I'm going to get back on my creative roots - making cards and scrapbooking. It's a little daunting because I haven't touched the stuff in a little over 2 years, but just like I've said over and over about the only thing stopping me from writing some days is my own self-doubt, so is my reluctance to be daring and just create a card/page out of nothing.
6. Once we've been bitten by the travel bug, we can't stop. So Fred and I have been talking about going overseas again at the end of this year. At the moment, we're tossing up between going to the Philippines with the in-laws, or, failing that, back to Jakarta, my beloved hometown.
7. I say this every year, and this year is of no exception... well, alright... maybe with a little bit of a difference. My weight has always remained in the 69-70kg mark, and whilst I'm about... 2-3 kg overweight, I'm really not going to fuss to shed those kilos. What I am fussed about is the fact that my tummy can go balloon up more often than it deflate, and I know that it is due to lack of regular exercise and eating too many good food and not balancing that with eating moderately. So this year, I am going to try really hard to keep a more regular, well-shaped, somewhat flattened tummy. I'm going to try to do a power-walk or bike twice a week and make/eat more side-dish vegetables.
8-11 - I've drawn a blank! Might have to come back to this later :) (Dear God - I just realised that that would be post number 4.... in one day!).
I'm taking a leaf out of my friend's Liss' blog Frills in the Hills and create an '11 Things I'm Looking Forward to 2011'.
1. I'm looking forward to have a better work-life integration. I love my job - I really, really do. But if you look at my previous posts, apart from our big US trip, everything that has happened last year revolved around my work, and I am conscious of the fact that I do very little outside of work; I don't socialise much, I become a hermit, I close myself in at home and most of that is spent sitting on the couch, either watching TV or writing. So this year, I'm going to do a bit more of 'other stuff'.
2. Hmmm.... ok, this will also serve as a reminder when I start bitching about Fred's family. Contrary to the (silent) upheavals strengthening the tension, and yes, my resentment towards almost every member of Fred's family member last year, Fred and I had a good time at Christmas, and again at New Year's, chatting with his brothers/sister/sister-in-law. And so this year I'm going to continue that and reacquaint myself with them; going to the movies, having a good ol' girl chat with sister-in-law and Fred's sister... fun things like that.
3. This year WILL see me more actively trying to publish my book. For starters, I will join the Queensland Writers' Association and enjoy the networking that comes from being a part of this group.
4. I would like to get back to the things I've neglected in the name of writing my unpublished books. I think I will set aside a couple of hours each week resuming my TESOL qualification. I started this... oh... I think 2 years ago now, when my husband and I thought about changing the scenery and teaching English in Jakarta (a large market for it). Whilst this dream may not be realised, there is no reason as to why I can't finish what I started and get my TESOL diploma at least. I'm sure this can come in handy sometime, somewhere...
5. Still running along the same theme of number 4, I'm going to get back on my creative roots - making cards and scrapbooking. It's a little daunting because I haven't touched the stuff in a little over 2 years, but just like I've said over and over about the only thing stopping me from writing some days is my own self-doubt, so is my reluctance to be daring and just create a card/page out of nothing.
6. Once we've been bitten by the travel bug, we can't stop. So Fred and I have been talking about going overseas again at the end of this year. At the moment, we're tossing up between going to the Philippines with the in-laws, or, failing that, back to Jakarta, my beloved hometown.
7. I say this every year, and this year is of no exception... well, alright... maybe with a little bit of a difference. My weight has always remained in the 69-70kg mark, and whilst I'm about... 2-3 kg overweight, I'm really not going to fuss to shed those kilos. What I am fussed about is the fact that my tummy can go balloon up more often than it deflate, and I know that it is due to lack of regular exercise and eating too many good food and not balancing that with eating moderately. So this year, I am going to try really hard to keep a more regular, well-shaped, somewhat flattened tummy. I'm going to try to do a power-walk or bike twice a week and make/eat more side-dish vegetables.
8-11 - I've drawn a blank! Might have to come back to this later :) (Dear God - I just realised that that would be post number 4.... in one day!).
'Recap 2010-Plans for 2011' Post (Part 2)
June came and went and to my, and everyone's relief, things at the Centre finally settled. My boss, who became an Acting Director, came back, healthy though he did have on-going medication problem which turned him yellow at one stage, and wouldn't go to the doctor if his ex-Secretary (i.e. me) didn't point his unnatural face colour to him. The new Director was apppointed - ironically enough another boss of mine (I have three!), who is also a very dear, close friend to Neil. And the person replacing my boss whilst he was Acting Director replaced the current director. Yes, it's like playing musical chairs in here for a while, and we were hoping that the status quo would prevail just for a little while longer.
August - ahhh... the anniversary month. Before we got there though, August also saw me taking the most amount of sick leave in one month! It started with what I thought was a head cold - my head was pounding so hard I could feel even my cheekbones hurt. So I took a day off and spent a day being utterly miserable because the headache was that bad I couldn't even sit still to watch daytime TV. Braced myself to go to work the next day, and the next day, and then I had to resort to gulping panadols throughout the day to keep the pounding ache at bay.
Taking this as a sign that something's not right in my world, I went to the GP, and then to the dentist. And what do you know - two wisdom teeth, one on the top and one on the bottom, had compacted the rest of my mouth and pushing all the other teeth - hence the stabbing pain from my mouth.
So off I went to the dental surgery to get these removed, and being told that I had to take MORE days off. Spent the remainder of Thursday afternoon after the operation swallowing my own blood (yuck!!!!), changing the cotton-ball-wrapped-in-gauze to blot the blood dry, and feeling my cheek going absolutely numb. Oh, and let's not forget the half-drugged state, too!
But I was on the improve in no time, and by the time 14th August rolled over, my husband and I were able to enjoy a lovely cruise lunch along the river, with no whinging, so-much-in-pain wife to deal with, celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary.
I have NEVER been so excited to greet the month of September. As part of the deal, I have asked my husband to give me tickets to the USA instead of throwing me a massive 30th birthday party. And the lovely man that he was, he did just that. So on the 6th of September, we flew to LA, get a connecting flight to Miami, and braced the 4-hour drive to Orlando (nothing like baptism of fire here, driving on the wrong side of the road and all). We spent a week here, visiting the 4 parks of Walt Disney World, got sunburnt, perspiring heavily, took LOADS of photos, went on so many roller-coasters (some in total darkness, which I must say was THE best type), and rubbed shoulders with celebrities the like of Winnie the Pooh, Genie from Aladdin, and Jafar...
After that, we spent three weeks in glorious New York. It is the place I've always wanted to go to ever since I practically could say the word, and all I can say is... OH... MY... GOD!!!!! I have never fallen that much in love with anything (except for my husband) in my life. New York exceeded all my expectations; it was love at first sight (or even before that) and I dream, every day, of being able to live there. I could go on and on here - the landscape such as Central Park and Rockefeller Center, the breathtaking building architectures like Empire State Building and Grand Central Station; the fact that Macy's, one of the many major department stores, open until 9:30PM on weekends, and 8:30PM on weekdays. The bustling Times Square, jam-packed with people even until past midnight. The Chinatown, where we had the best yum-cha ever. And the list goes on... and on... and on...
In October, we continued our US journey, trekking to Vegas. I have likened The Vegas Strip to 'Crown on steroids' - I have never seen so many casinos, in so many different themes, in one stretch of a street. Watched unforgettable shows including 'Cirque De Soleil' La Reve and 'The Lion King'.
By the time we reached LA, our travelling fuel was super-low and in badly need of refuelling. After 5 weeks of living out of hotel rooms and suitcases, airport- and airplane-hopping, we have had enough; we wanted, so very badly, to go home and marvel at the massive amount of space a four-bedroom-plus-a-study house could offer.
The rest of the year flew by so fast it really felt like it was gone with the flick of a finger. But this year, I have also cemented my extra-curricular activity as the singer for the Centre, with my singing ability being called upon for various Liturgies and ceremonies. Whilst I wouldn't go as far as forming my own band, or, as someone suggested, perform at the Sydney Theater, I must say I quite enjoy performing on this low-key, local level, and my nervousness become less and less each time I have to get up on that 'stage' and sing in front of a microphone.
And, since this is yet another bigger-than-Ben-Hur post, there will be a part 3, where I will reveal what I hope/plan/expect in 2011.
August - ahhh... the anniversary month. Before we got there though, August also saw me taking the most amount of sick leave in one month! It started with what I thought was a head cold - my head was pounding so hard I could feel even my cheekbones hurt. So I took a day off and spent a day being utterly miserable because the headache was that bad I couldn't even sit still to watch daytime TV. Braced myself to go to work the next day, and the next day, and then I had to resort to gulping panadols throughout the day to keep the pounding ache at bay.
Taking this as a sign that something's not right in my world, I went to the GP, and then to the dentist. And what do you know - two wisdom teeth, one on the top and one on the bottom, had compacted the rest of my mouth and pushing all the other teeth - hence the stabbing pain from my mouth.
So off I went to the dental surgery to get these removed, and being told that I had to take MORE days off. Spent the remainder of Thursday afternoon after the operation swallowing my own blood (yuck!!!!), changing the cotton-ball-wrapped-in-gauze to blot the blood dry, and feeling my cheek going absolutely numb. Oh, and let's not forget the half-drugged state, too!
But I was on the improve in no time, and by the time 14th August rolled over, my husband and I were able to enjoy a lovely cruise lunch along the river, with no whinging, so-much-in-pain wife to deal with, celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary.
I have NEVER been so excited to greet the month of September. As part of the deal, I have asked my husband to give me tickets to the USA instead of throwing me a massive 30th birthday party. And the lovely man that he was, he did just that. So on the 6th of September, we flew to LA, get a connecting flight to Miami, and braced the 4-hour drive to Orlando (nothing like baptism of fire here, driving on the wrong side of the road and all). We spent a week here, visiting the 4 parks of Walt Disney World, got sunburnt, perspiring heavily, took LOADS of photos, went on so many roller-coasters (some in total darkness, which I must say was THE best type), and rubbed shoulders with celebrities the like of Winnie the Pooh, Genie from Aladdin, and Jafar...
After that, we spent three weeks in glorious New York. It is the place I've always wanted to go to ever since I practically could say the word, and all I can say is... OH... MY... GOD!!!!! I have never fallen that much in love with anything (except for my husband) in my life. New York exceeded all my expectations; it was love at first sight (or even before that) and I dream, every day, of being able to live there. I could go on and on here - the landscape such as Central Park and Rockefeller Center, the breathtaking building architectures like Empire State Building and Grand Central Station; the fact that Macy's, one of the many major department stores, open until 9:30PM on weekends, and 8:30PM on weekdays. The bustling Times Square, jam-packed with people even until past midnight. The Chinatown, where we had the best yum-cha ever. And the list goes on... and on... and on...
In October, we continued our US journey, trekking to Vegas. I have likened The Vegas Strip to 'Crown on steroids' - I have never seen so many casinos, in so many different themes, in one stretch of a street. Watched unforgettable shows including 'Cirque De Soleil' La Reve and 'The Lion King'.
By the time we reached LA, our travelling fuel was super-low and in badly need of refuelling. After 5 weeks of living out of hotel rooms and suitcases, airport- and airplane-hopping, we have had enough; we wanted, so very badly, to go home and marvel at the massive amount of space a four-bedroom-plus-a-study house could offer.
The rest of the year flew by so fast it really felt like it was gone with the flick of a finger. But this year, I have also cemented my extra-curricular activity as the singer for the Centre, with my singing ability being called upon for various Liturgies and ceremonies. Whilst I wouldn't go as far as forming my own band, or, as someone suggested, perform at the Sydney Theater, I must say I quite enjoy performing on this low-key, local level, and my nervousness become less and less each time I have to get up on that 'stage' and sing in front of a microphone.
And, since this is yet another bigger-than-Ben-Hur post, there will be a part 3, where I will reveal what I hope/plan/expect in 2011.
A Long Overdue 'Recap 2010-Plans for 2011' Post (Part 1)
Yes, I know, I know, I've been slack... having a 10-day break with so many things put on my to-do list, performing various balancing act between having a time to myself and spending quality time with my husband, sleeping late (I'm talking about 2-3AM here) and as a consequence sleeping in and not waking up until the sun is already out for a few hours, battling with the lack of air-cond in our place, and going to several after-Christmas sale, and I just... simply... haven't gotten round to it. Until now.
So New Year's Eve came and went, and whilst we stayed up, my husband and I (rather shamefully here, I might add) stayed at home. We had a lovely home-cooked dinner, we watched a few episodes of our favourite TV series, my husband played Final Fantasy XIII on his brand-spanking new Playstation 3 he bought from the US, which he only stopped around 11:55PM. At midnight, we cracked open the bottle of Moet Champagne we got as a Christmas present, toasted the New Year, and watched the 10-minute fireworks show on television before my husband then resumed playing his Playstation game and I, with perspiration drenching down my face and back, attempted to write beautiful, meaningful little passages for my books.
It hasn't escaped me, however, that the change between the year that was and the year ahead is the time to reflect; to recap on the year that has been and to set goals/hopes/expectations for the year you're about to face.
Let's start with the recap. 2010 has been a big year, in both ends of the spectrum. From the get go, my work is branching out to 2 Service Centres, and with the role I was (and still am) in, it required me to pack all my belongings, including laptop and screen, and moved from Dutton Park to Springwood. I was able to enjoy the novelty of having a proper morning tea and afternoon tea break whilst helping the PA and the Area Supervisors settled everything in to the centre, and began training the new Area Supervisors' secretary.
It was a new beginning for all 45 staff in the centre in mid-January, and I found myself instantly weaving new friendships with the other Secretary and the new Secretary to the PA - friendships that, thankfully, still continue to blossom to this very day.
February rolled over and the biggest bombshell dropped on me this month, was the sudden passing of our beloved Director, Neil Bloxsidge. The news came as a hard blow to all of us, and for a long while, I lived in denial, in constant hope that this was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from, and that one day, I would, and find that his passing was all a big mistake. For months afterwards, I kept wishing that whoever had played this cruel joke on us would turn around and laugh devilishly and Neil would miraculously appear, back into our lives; striding into his office, turn around the corner and greet us with that trademark, comical smile. For the longest time I could ever remember, I blamed God for dealing the crappiest, most bitter card He had dealt to one of his most wonderful, loving, generous followers, and my faith in Him was shaken more than ever before.
March - as if dealing with Neil's death wasn't enough, the acting Director replacing him, one of my bosses I have been working for/with for the large part of 2008 and all of 2009, fell ill that he had to be off in hospital and recovering for 6 weeks. His replacement was nothing like him, possessing a thick Scottish accent that was rather difficult to understand, and for the first time in... God knows how long, I was literally overwhelmed and showed my panic/resistance to change; everything was changing, and was happening too fast for my liking.
In May, I turned the big 30. Whereas some people dreaded reaching the end of their 20s, I actually couldn't wait. I was bouncing off the walls counting the days to my birthday. And boy, did I celebrate it in style! My husband, blessed his gorgeous heart, bought me a super-stylish Cue jacket that just fit like a glove on me, and accentuated all the curves on my figure. I also had a cocktail party with my closest friends, drank some cocktails, and had a wonderful, cheerful, unforgettable night.
And now, having realised that this post has turned rather mammoth, I will end part 1, and continue part 2 with the rest of 2010 and plan for 2011.
So New Year's Eve came and went, and whilst we stayed up, my husband and I (rather shamefully here, I might add) stayed at home. We had a lovely home-cooked dinner, we watched a few episodes of our favourite TV series, my husband played Final Fantasy XIII on his brand-spanking new Playstation 3 he bought from the US, which he only stopped around 11:55PM. At midnight, we cracked open the bottle of Moet Champagne we got as a Christmas present, toasted the New Year, and watched the 10-minute fireworks show on television before my husband then resumed playing his Playstation game and I, with perspiration drenching down my face and back, attempted to write beautiful, meaningful little passages for my books.
It hasn't escaped me, however, that the change between the year that was and the year ahead is the time to reflect; to recap on the year that has been and to set goals/hopes/expectations for the year you're about to face.
Let's start with the recap. 2010 has been a big year, in both ends of the spectrum. From the get go, my work is branching out to 2 Service Centres, and with the role I was (and still am) in, it required me to pack all my belongings, including laptop and screen, and moved from Dutton Park to Springwood. I was able to enjoy the novelty of having a proper morning tea and afternoon tea break whilst helping the PA and the Area Supervisors settled everything in to the centre, and began training the new Area Supervisors' secretary.
It was a new beginning for all 45 staff in the centre in mid-January, and I found myself instantly weaving new friendships with the other Secretary and the new Secretary to the PA - friendships that, thankfully, still continue to blossom to this very day.
February rolled over and the biggest bombshell dropped on me this month, was the sudden passing of our beloved Director, Neil Bloxsidge. The news came as a hard blow to all of us, and for a long while, I lived in denial, in constant hope that this was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from, and that one day, I would, and find that his passing was all a big mistake. For months afterwards, I kept wishing that whoever had played this cruel joke on us would turn around and laugh devilishly and Neil would miraculously appear, back into our lives; striding into his office, turn around the corner and greet us with that trademark, comical smile. For the longest time I could ever remember, I blamed God for dealing the crappiest, most bitter card He had dealt to one of his most wonderful, loving, generous followers, and my faith in Him was shaken more than ever before.
March - as if dealing with Neil's death wasn't enough, the acting Director replacing him, one of my bosses I have been working for/with for the large part of 2008 and all of 2009, fell ill that he had to be off in hospital and recovering for 6 weeks. His replacement was nothing like him, possessing a thick Scottish accent that was rather difficult to understand, and for the first time in... God knows how long, I was literally overwhelmed and showed my panic/resistance to change; everything was changing, and was happening too fast for my liking.
In May, I turned the big 30. Whereas some people dreaded reaching the end of their 20s, I actually couldn't wait. I was bouncing off the walls counting the days to my birthday. And boy, did I celebrate it in style! My husband, blessed his gorgeous heart, bought me a super-stylish Cue jacket that just fit like a glove on me, and accentuated all the curves on my figure. I also had a cocktail party with my closest friends, drank some cocktails, and had a wonderful, cheerful, unforgettable night.
And now, having realised that this post has turned rather mammoth, I will end part 1, and continue part 2 with the rest of 2010 and plan for 2011.
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