master packer

Ninety nine percent of my stuff are now packed and it is the our last night in our home for four years. It didn't really seem like four years. It is funny that although I love this place, I don't really feel any loneliness in changing addresses. Maybe it has a lot to do with the fact that I will still be with my family.

I remember answering a questions about where I would love to live with an annoyingly corny answer that was somewhere a long the lines of nowhere specific geographically, as long as it is a place of love and refuge. I'm not really the mushy kind, but I meant that. And I hope even when I grow up, I do not lose track of what is important :)

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As it is my first time to pack for anything other than a trip, I realise that with the right tools and the endless supply of plastic wrap, bubble wrap, packing tape and boxes, I am quite the packer!

What good I am in packing, makes up for my unpacking skills--or drive. I wonder how long it would take me to fix my new room.

di biro

I've taken care of plants before. Twice. Each consisted of a variety of cactus species in a relatively big petri dish-ish pot. As there was clearly variety, maybe I could say few instead just counting to two.

Regardless of my (home) cactus experience. I had never taken care of a plant in the office until recently.

We had an activity to plant a money tree. Yes, it is not a tree, nor does it have potential to be a tree. It is a vine.

I kept it on my desk because I felt bad for the person who came up with the activity--especially since I heard what people were saying about her programme.

I'm glad I did.

I noticed that every week almost, a leaf from either of the vines would dry up and simultaneously a new sprout would sprout.

I actually feel excited watching it change.

Of course I have to keep myself from pulling out the drying one. I need to accept that nature works in nature's time. You can't rush into what you know to be the end. You can predict beginnings, but you can never quite tell when that sprout would sprout.

How would things be on Monday?

moving on

It had been a roller coaster week at work topped with drama, no thank you to my prescription--that I took the last of yesterday (yey!).

I had also been little by little clearing my room and doing some packing as we are moving homes this weekend.

It is only when you are forced to look at your room that you realise marvelous--and horrible things. Over the last two weeks, I had come to a conclusion that...I let my room go.

Admittedly, my room is an eyesore in our lovely home :(

I am blessed to have a sister in law who accepts me, no matter how my room looks. Because I love her and know how much she likes organised and well put together places, I have vowed to make sure I never fall into the trap again.

lucky week

This week had been hectic with one of my major projects going live coupled with the one week prescription I was given making me moody--as much as it an acceptable justification for trivial actions, I hate it :(

I could say it is one of those interesting streaks.

There were however, more good things that came with it.

I was able to hang out more with a good friend, it had been some time since we really got together.

I received five cheques that were refunds for my medical bills overpayment.

I also picked up some cash on the floor. In a public place. With no one else in sight.

Finally, the zit on my forehead had finally cleared :)

Life is good.

the girl with the dragon tattoo

A definite must see! Gripping--I was anxious, overwhelmed, sorrowful, angry, relieved and in horror throughout the movie. Not a lot different from how Boys Don't Cry made me feel when I saw it for the first time.

When I think about Hollywood coming up with their own version with Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara (whom I have only seen for two minutes in Youth in Revolt), I wonder how it would fair. The Swedish version put the bar up there.

Somehow, I keep imagining Keira Knightly playing Lisbeth.

way back to (an old) love

I haven't been reading lately, I am unsure how I stopped going to bookstores.

I picked up a copy of La Vie En Rose--no, not the one about the french singer but a refreshing read about English people aspiring to sell rosé in France.

I'm almost through, but rushing through it seems wrong. Even if it means that I would watch The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in the cinema before reading the book--not really ideal. I'm a bit of a book dork that way.

The Millennium Trilogy had been sitting in our bookshelf since last year and somehow I feel like kicking myself for not making time to read it before.

again

I saw an episode of How I Met Your Mother wherein Ted went on the same date seven years apart.

If you didn't see that particular episode, my synopsis would not make sense and would have no connection to what I have in mind to write about.

So maybe, I should elaborate.

In 2002, Ted went on a blind date where he looked for typos in the menu, cracked a silly joke while the girl made excuses about being jobless and didn't stop talking about her cats.

It somehow didn't go so well as to bear a second date.

In 2009, Ted goes to another blind date where he looked for typos in the menu, cracked a silly joke and the girl made excuses about being jobless and didn't stop talking about her cats.

Both dates, the same girl.

No, I don't want to write about blind dates. But being the same person each time you get into something, or take a chance with someone.

I'd like to think that I have gone a long way since 2002, but somehow I remain to be that person.

Specific things that made me happy then, still make me light up.

I still go crazy about wrong slogans or silly expressions, laugh at ridiculously corny jokes, make excuses for eating too much sampaloc and talk for hours about Anne Rice or Neil Gaiman. Actually, I can still talk for hours. There. Annoying. I know.

So maybe, I too go into these things as the same person each time. Somehow.