"relics"

It is always funny when you get the lyrics wrong and think "omg, that doesn't make any sense at all!".

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When I was a kid, everytime I heard Hall and Oates' Every Time You Go Away, I'd feel sad. Well, it is a heartfelt song, really so I bet that was really what they were going for.

I'd sing the whole song too, somehow, I had memorised it--in the words that I thought the lyrics to be.

It would start with a..."If we can't solve any problems... Why do we lose so many tears..."

Then I'd get excited and belting the part "...going on and on and on".

Then, I'd sing the chorus tenderly (as tender as someone with a voice like mine could!)

Every time you go away, you take a piece of MEAT with you....

Nagbaon? :-)

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Translation:

Nag = a prefix to denote doing
Baon = packed food

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It is quite fitting. Me, thinking that if you leave, you better bring something to eat, it would be horrible--and acceptable to go hungry! ;)

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Camille, it you are reading this, sorry for what I'm about to write.

I remember you saying that you once thought Karma Chameleon was actually "Karma CAMILLE AH" :-)

That's kinda cute too!

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(I hope you clap your hands)

brace(let) yourself

Today, I thought I'd wear a couple of bracelets.  I really haven't worn any for a while.

By lunch time, I had regretted doing so as the charm attached to one kept getting in the way.

Luckily, I was not chairing any meeting today.  In fact, it was a blessing that all my meetings were conference calls.  It would have been horribly annoying.

I decided to suck it--meaning, endure the pain.  For some reason, I am not very comfortable taking accessories off, setting them aside and putting them back on after a task.

Like rings.  I wash my hand wearing them.  On days that I do, wear a ring or rings.

My watch.  My watch especially.  It remains around my wrist.  All day.  

So it was settled.  

Bracelets were staying.

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As I adjusted the troublesome charm, I realised that both bracelets I had on were gifts.  And from the same person too.

The same person who spammed today.

And by spam, I don't mean someone sending an email that I don't care to read.  Instead, someone framed by some malicious email application to make it appear that I was actually receiving a legitimate email from a person known to me.

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Maybe I should send my regards.

guardian

I saw this online and I thought it was really cute.It reminded me of my doll. The one that scares the living. I don't know about monsters and the dead. I refuse to think about it! LOL.

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I thought I'd share the photo with my Mom, so I sent her an email saying...

Hey Mom, I thought I'd sent you this so you'll understand why I love (my doll's name) so much :)

The next thing I knew, I was reading a loooooooooong email from my Mom about being shocked that I was a very scared child and feeling guilty that she didn't realise that I was seeking protection from a toy. She even went as far as saying, she should have asked me to sleep in their room.

Great. While trying to be cute, I managed to stress my Mom out!

I quickly explained that it was meant as a joke and that I was never scared of monsters coming for me at night.

I was tempted to add that I was sometimes scared as a grown up--especially a few weeks after watching Sixth Sense and driving home that night I saw White Noise, but decided against it. I didn't want her to feel like she was oblivious to my supposed needs. Plus of course, I'd be just teasing.

My mom replied that she initially thought it was a joke, but somewhat wondered if I was revealing a childhood fear.

I can imagine that as a Mom you should be ready for anything. Ready to listen to a child, no matter how seemingly silly her issue is.

At this age, my Mom still feel perhaps like I am that small child who can't sleep without her doll.

You know what? Maybe I still am :)

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(I'd post the source as a comment as soon as I am able to make out what it is.)

our daily "braid"

When I was a kid, I learnt how to braid my hair one summer.

The concept is easy to understand, divide the hair into three sections and alternate moving the leftmost and rightmost chunks of hair to the middle, taking the place of the center section. French braiding added a step, which was securing a "row" of hair from the side and incorporating that into the chunk of hair you are about to set as the center section.

No idea if that made sense to anyone but me.

Braiding our household help's hair was easy enough, but braiding my own hair was a completely different story!

As the french braiding starts on top of my head, my arms would hurt so much not even halfway through!

Long story short, by the time it was time to go back to school, I've gotten the knack of french braiding!

Only--I got tired of it too. I don't think I ever went anywhere with my hair braided.

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And now, guess what? French braids had become quite the trend again!

One would think that I'd jump at the chance to do my hair. Wrong. So wrong.

(For some reason, I can't stop thinking "conehead" whenever I braid my hair!)

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I did however, started going to yoga class with my hair in a fench braid to keep my hair away from my face--which was genius! You won't believe how well it secures my fringe. No more pushing loose hair away! :)

I wish I had though about it a long time ago--not to be trendy or anything, but only to be able to focus more on my alignment and less on my tresses.

invisible

Today, I'd write about invisibility.I know a good man who would always joke that he is invisible, I think he does it only because he likes the song. In reality, he probably knows that he is seen, maybe not by as much as one would see someone flashy, but those who see him recognises such marvel.I took the first photos not knowing what was there.

When it dawned on me what was there... I realised how lucky I am to have made the discovery ;)

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It is amazing how translucent and seemingly colorless the dragonfly is--for me, that is what makes it outstanding.

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It seems odd to some people how I decide on things, or how I choose to see things. I think that I may sometimes--maybe often, take the expression "live simply" quite literally.

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In this context, I may be taking SIMPLE and BASIC as synonyms.

I'd be one who would pick a white shirt from a pile of clothes. I think there is no better drink than water. Vanilla ice cream is quite, the bomb. Sugar and milk kill the tea. Salt is the only thing that a steak needs.

911 victims and heroes

in my prayers tonight.

Boston Guy

As a new chapter had begun, I thought it is an opportune time to write about...Boston Guy.

Who is BG?

He is a Mr. Wrong who comes into your life at the "perfect" time.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't that he is horrible.  In fact, chances are he is quite likable, maybe funny or charming even.  He is someone you could...stand.  And stand to spend time with. A lot of time with, even.

Only, he isn't the one for you.  And you know it.  Fair enough, maybe not immediately. But in any case, at some point, you knew. And sort of, well... ignore the fact.

You can even make excuses and silly statements like "We have a connection.  Really.  REALLY" talking to yourself.

Your friends don't like him for trivial reasons.  And strangely, you understand why.  

And because he isn't the one, after a few weeks, your brain will just refuse to dumb itself any longer.  You physically and emotionally, will not be able fake it anymore.

Then, it's over.  Just like that.

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BG being an okay guy won't be crushed.  In fact, he probably knew all along what was happening and was just too happy to be part of something seemingly of his interest.  You.  Dating you.  

Dating.

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Later, you'd realise who BG really was for you.

In hindsight, it would appear that BG really is, at a critical moment, a (destined) much needed...distraction.

Maybe to tide you through a rough patch, restlessness or even, boredom.

The latter sounds bad.  Demonic.

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Why Boston?  I'm not saying.  

I do know a pretty girl who'd probably be nodding, smiling and shaking her head as she reads this though.

Oh and BG doesn't have to be from--or even, had been to Boston.