And I turned into a gym rat today....
It started when my mother wanted me to accompany her to California Fitness at Novena's Velocity. Each step towards Cali Fitness got those jitterbugs going and I started worrying about everything, anything - from my attire to the fear of being crushed by those gigantic cold metal machines. Give me the sun anytime, baby...not those gray things that manipulate me.
Cali Fitness was swarming with buffed-up youths, sporting a moonlight-tan which they proudly showcase through their racer-back singlets and what nots. If not for the fortunate coverage of 'em polo-tees, I'd probably have fled. The initial stare-me-downs led to a catwalk arena of ladies in sports bras and the latest yoga apparels, punctuated by white towel-clad models idling around the changing room - just like home. (Not really.)
Then there were those huge gray machines. Treadmills, stairtrainers, cycling machines and everything else that threatened to crush my bones peppered the entire level. I huffed and panted my way through brisk-walking on this treadmill with at least 50 options of cardio/fat-burning/hill/interval-training while my mum looked on in amusement. Then it occurred to me - damn, I forgot to stretch.
I said a meek hello to the "I forgot what its name" machine that works both the arms and legs, my mother's best friend in Cali. Gym ain't my thing, for it requires at least a minute's worth of psycho-motor confusion before my limbs finally accepted that they aren't in control - the machine is. I have had enough - its back to the treadmill with my normal jogging pace, plugged into the Pod blasting pumpin' House music.
Suddenly, I wanted so very much to dash down the dock, lace on those bindings and hit the water. I love my tan. :)
Sunday, August 19, 2007It started when my mother wanted me to accompany her to California Fitness at Novena's Velocity. Each step towards Cali Fitness got those jitterbugs going and I started worrying about everything, anything - from my attire to the fear of being crushed by those gigantic cold metal machines. Give me the sun anytime, baby...not those gray things that manipulate me.
Cali Fitness was swarming with buffed-up youths, sporting a moonlight-tan which they proudly showcase through their racer-back singlets and what nots. If not for the fortunate coverage of 'em polo-tees, I'd probably have fled. The initial stare-me-downs led to a catwalk arena of ladies in sports bras and the latest yoga apparels, punctuated by white towel-clad models idling around the changing room - just like home. (Not really.)
Then there were those huge gray machines. Treadmills, stairtrainers, cycling machines and everything else that threatened to crush my bones peppered the entire level. I huffed and panted my way through brisk-walking on this treadmill with at least 50 options of cardio/fat-burning/hill/interval-training while my mum looked on in amusement. Then it occurred to me - damn, I forgot to stretch.
I said a meek hello to the "I forgot what its name" machine that works both the arms and legs, my mother's best friend in Cali. Gym ain't my thing, for it requires at least a minute's worth of psycho-motor confusion before my limbs finally accepted that they aren't in control - the machine is. I have had enough - its back to the treadmill with my normal jogging pace, plugged into the Pod blasting pumpin' House music.
Suddenly, I wanted so very much to dash down the dock, lace on those bindings and hit the water. I love my tan. :)
Mini Revolution : The Next Phase
It started off with Visa's aggressive marketing of the new Visa Mini back in 2002. "Are You Ready for the Mini Revolution" probably had an inkling that they would kick-start the next revolution in mankind, otherwise known as the Mini Revolution.
The downsizing of debit/credit cards meant that ladies could fish it out of their tiny clutch purses to pay for their (probably just as tiny) cocktails. It meant that these cards could also be hidden in their bras, for who likes to carry something in their hands when out on a wild night of partying? Order, flash the mini, tuck if back into your bra, drink, and its party time. Very convenient.
Then came along Macintosh to steal the limelight, with 2005's Mac Mini and more recently, iPod mini with other fast-catching competitors like Zen Micro and random China products we see around Sim Lim. So small that they fit into tampon holders, iPod Shuffle (Gen 2) wins them all by morphing itself into a paper clip.
Whilst "bigger is better" back in the retro days, the revival of vintage and retro in 2006/7 only seems to emphasize the Mini Revolution before that. Bring on 'em aviator shades, with tunic tops the size of garbage bags and chunky plastic wedge heels. More interestingly, strutting the fashion arena are increasingly pint-sized girls. Be it 11 or 21 years old, most undergrads I noticed (while dining at NUS Arts Canteen a few days back) fall below my line of vision, looking startlingly alike my students who are about 13 years of age. Has the Mini Revolution taken over the physical size of our local girls too?
Hence the rise of those lovely Volks Beetles and Mini Coopers. Tiny cars for tiny people to zoom around the tiny island of Singapore. There has also been recent spottings of the new Picanto and the likes, equally mini though not as pleasing to the eye. Ah well, bring me my SUV anytime. Small ain't for me, although I still love my Mini Debit. Hah!
Friday, August 17, 2007It started off with Visa's aggressive marketing of the new Visa Mini back in 2002. "Are You Ready for the Mini Revolution" probably had an inkling that they would kick-start the next revolution in mankind, otherwise known as the Mini Revolution.
The downsizing of debit/credit cards meant that ladies could fish it out of their tiny clutch purses to pay for their (probably just as tiny) cocktails. It meant that these cards could also be hidden in their bras, for who likes to carry something in their hands when out on a wild night of partying? Order, flash the mini, tuck if back into your bra, drink, and its party time. Very convenient.
Then came along Macintosh to steal the limelight, with 2005's Mac Mini and more recently, iPod mini with other fast-catching competitors like Zen Micro and random China products we see around Sim Lim. So small that they fit into tampon holders, iPod Shuffle (Gen 2) wins them all by morphing itself into a paper clip.
Whilst "bigger is better" back in the retro days, the revival of vintage and retro in 2006/7 only seems to emphasize the Mini Revolution before that. Bring on 'em aviator shades, with tunic tops the size of garbage bags and chunky plastic wedge heels. More interestingly, strutting the fashion arena are increasingly pint-sized girls. Be it 11 or 21 years old, most undergrads I noticed (while dining at NUS Arts Canteen a few days back) fall below my line of vision, looking startlingly alike my students who are about 13 years of age. Has the Mini Revolution taken over the physical size of our local girls too?
Hence the rise of those lovely Volks Beetles and Mini Coopers. Tiny cars for tiny people to zoom around the tiny island of Singapore. There has also been recent spottings of the new Picanto and the likes, equally mini though not as pleasing to the eye. Ah well, bring me my SUV anytime. Small ain't for me, although I still love my Mini Debit. Hah!
"Will I wash away, turning like a storm? I need a place where I belong..."
I found a place to hide away those tears, those fears, the hurt that comes and goes.
I found a place to seek solace.
Put down the tired mind, the exhausted frame. Fighting an emotional battle with someone so close is draining. Battling one's inner turmoil is exhausting.
How ironic, that I am always welcome into that world of solace, only to realise that I can't hide there forever, but to address the problem myself. Ultimately, the self has to bear all the pain...just to see the sun peeking over the horizon at the end of it all. The pain, the anguish of accepting my own flaw is something I would prefer not to bear, but for the sweet victory at the end of it all, perhaps 2 months is a mere temporary prick in the heart (and ego).
Sunday, August 12, 2007I found a place to hide away those tears, those fears, the hurt that comes and goes.
I found a place to seek solace.
Put down the tired mind, the exhausted frame. Fighting an emotional battle with someone so close is draining. Battling one's inner turmoil is exhausting.
How ironic, that I am always welcome into that world of solace, only to realise that I can't hide there forever, but to address the problem myself. Ultimately, the self has to bear all the pain...just to see the sun peeking over the horizon at the end of it all. The pain, the anguish of accepting my own flaw is something I would prefer not to bear, but for the sweet victory at the end of it all, perhaps 2 months is a mere temporary prick in the heart (and ego).
Old soul.
The desire to head out for a night of partying has toned down to coffee sessions with friends, or simply chillin' at home (the bachelorette's pad).
They call it "being jaded". I call it "acceptance".
Turned into a cynic from failed interaction-turned-relationships, we pick ourselves up and over again. Everybody is in search for "the One" in their lives, but who, will we know? When will we know? Will we know? Will we be sure? There's plenty of room for error - all we need to do is to try. :) Blame not the players, blame not the countless dating that you witness - we are all but seeking our desired "Ones".
Wisdom runs deep. Only fools do not listen.
Like how information are only pieces of paper, and how certificates are mere paper qualifications - why does the world still look upon such paper like gold? Hire 'em scholars immediately because of golden scrolls and smart academic brains...regret later for that's all they know how to do - study. It ain't all about studies, its about knowledge and wisdom.
Wisdom. I claim not to be smart, but I am wise.
Not the "old man kinda wise".
I claim not to feel love, but perhaps it isn't really love yet. Love, like a flower, turns beautiful when it blossoms. This, the impatient will not witness; they will not feel. Endless declarations of "I love you" become meaningless.
If I keep this up, it is no longer an "old soul", but a "naggy woman".
And here's every reason to wakeboard at Tuas.
Thank you. :)
Thursday, August 09, 2007The desire to head out for a night of partying has toned down to coffee sessions with friends, or simply chillin' at home (the bachelorette's pad).
They call it "being jaded". I call it "acceptance".
Turned into a cynic from failed interaction-turned-relationships, we pick ourselves up and over again. Everybody is in search for "the One" in their lives, but who, will we know? When will we know? Will we know? Will we be sure? There's plenty of room for error - all we need to do is to try. :) Blame not the players, blame not the countless dating that you witness - we are all but seeking our desired "Ones".
Wisdom runs deep. Only fools do not listen.
Like how information are only pieces of paper, and how certificates are mere paper qualifications - why does the world still look upon such paper like gold? Hire 'em scholars immediately because of golden scrolls and smart academic brains...regret later for that's all they know how to do - study. It ain't all about studies, its about knowledge and wisdom.
Wisdom. I claim not to be smart, but I am wise.
Not the "old man kinda wise".
I claim not to feel love, but perhaps it isn't really love yet. Love, like a flower, turns beautiful when it blossoms. This, the impatient will not witness; they will not feel. Endless declarations of "I love you" become meaningless.
If I keep this up, it is no longer an "old soul", but a "naggy woman".
--------------------------
And here's every reason to wakeboard at Tuas.
Not to mention, the stash of the day!
Thank you. :)
The world is full of contradictions....
To ere is to be human, they say. We all are but humans, and I have a handful of contradictory statement-action cases handed out to me this year. Lots of things have happened this year, particularly in the past few months since my last paper in NUS. It makes school life boring and mundane, and more sheltered than I have ever imagined. Lucky tertiary students we all are.
When someone claims to have reached a standstill in his life, only to date around 2 weeks later. Don't get me wrong, the issue I'm addressing here is "consistency" versus "contradiction".
When someone claims to have put aside time for me, only to have me realise that I have to bend my schedule around his. When I tell people I will make time to have coffee with them, only to realise obligations have kept me away from these coffee dates for close to a year.
As much as I try my best to suppress my bitchiness with concerns to a few particular statements someone had stressed upon me, as the great Jer puts it, my blog houses my own feelings...so, bitch away.
And then, I'm stumped for words.
Because, I realised by now, its over. I certainly do not care whether he dates another girl so close to home, whether she's got a superb figure and stuff...because I come away guilt-free (why should I be, in the first place) and he's moved on. It makes the decision clearer because it shows me how blind I was to obligatory feelings in the past; it shows me that I'm no cynic to love as I have forced myself to believe; it shows me that I can't force love itself.
And, it also allows the heart to embrace again. When I thought it wasn't capable of "feeling" anymore. "hmm", indeed.
To ere is to be human, they say. We all are but humans, and I have a handful of contradictory statement-action cases handed out to me this year. Lots of things have happened this year, particularly in the past few months since my last paper in NUS. It makes school life boring and mundane, and more sheltered than I have ever imagined. Lucky tertiary students we all are.
When someone claims to have reached a standstill in his life, only to date around 2 weeks later. Don't get me wrong, the issue I'm addressing here is "consistency" versus "contradiction".
When someone claims to have put aside time for me, only to have me realise that I have to bend my schedule around his. When I tell people I will make time to have coffee with them, only to realise obligations have kept me away from these coffee dates for close to a year.
As much as I try my best to suppress my bitchiness with concerns to a few particular statements someone had stressed upon me, as the great Jer puts it, my blog houses my own feelings...so, bitch away.
And then, I'm stumped for words.
Because, I realised by now, its over. I certainly do not care whether he dates another girl so close to home, whether she's got a superb figure and stuff...because I come away guilt-free (why should I be, in the first place) and he's moved on. It makes the decision clearer because it shows me how blind I was to obligatory feelings in the past; it shows me that I'm no cynic to love as I have forced myself to believe; it shows me that I can't force love itself.
And, it also allows the heart to embrace again. When I thought it wasn't capable of "feeling" anymore. "hmm", indeed.