House

"Cos I was born with a heart three sizes too small." - Gregory House, M.D.

Why do I like House?
He makes me feel like, Oh finally somebody gets me.

with raised eyebrows

General observations from more than 10 years of teaching:

Every parent has a favorite. Good parents try to treat every child equally. That does not always conceal which child is the most loved.

Teachers have preferred students/ parents too. I try my best to provide unbiased service for all. Still, there are a few who are dearer and closer to my heart. These are not always the most gifted. Often it's attitude or shared values. Sometimes it's pure chemistry.

Mothers of sons tend to show more vulnerability than mothers of daughters.

Angry mothers are the least rational among all irrational creatures. Their logic is Angry Bird's.

I am guilty too

Years back, at least three years ago, I bought the 362-page book "The Complete Idiot's Guide to OVERCOMING PROCRASTINATION".

I haven't finished even the second chapter. That's less than 25 pages.

In fact, it's been so long I've forgotten what the first two chapters say.

Ha, ha.

(The price tag is still on. Expensive. Maybe I should start reading it ... um, one of these days.)

Honor Thy Elders

I regret not yelling ASSHOLE at the asshole behind the wheel this afternoon, who had to toot and could not wait even just three seconds for my elderly aunt to finish crossing the street inside a mall's parking area. Dude, if you really are rushing, don't go to the mall during such holiday season. Moron.
I could have thrown a rock at the car.

Elders must be treated with respect.

Must be my Confucian upbringing.

reluctant

My last blog post was dated May 19, 2009.

More than two years already
but I still shudder at the idea of writing again.

My stomach feels sick.

It's a latitude where you can't tell
whether you're living in dreams or reality
Or ever floating in-between
People say life is but a dream, but these days
I am unsure which is which

Reached up my hand, through the water's surface
into thick air, that felt void
my body hanging mid air

A city of smog underneath
Bustling in an awful silence
Blood trickles down my toes
Drips down, vanishes in the clouds
wait
One drop fell on a man's head
Down his hair, into his scalp

Still he went about his business
Not knowing

I must have been dreaming
It was of bonfire and warmth and
Blissful dances
Then the cold woke me up and
In the dark I see
It was only a mist
Only a mist
And I shiver

Legal Murder: Euthanizing Premature Babies

"Some weight should be given to the economic considerations as there is a real issue in neonatal units of 'bed blocking'" ... The statement reflects a growing view among child specialists that babies born under 25 weeks should be denied intensive care and allowed to die. Next month the [British] Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health will debate a motion at its annual conference that it is "unethical" to provide intensive care routinely to babies born under 25 weeks.

The complete article in The Sunday Times

If the so-called civilized society regards economic imperatives more highly than love and charity (Mt.22:37-40), soon enough the world might start endorsing euthanasia on infirm and decrepit men and women for "ethical" reasons.


So bid you an earlier farewell to your parents and grandparents?
Will you be ready, when the society deems you unfit to contribute, to have your offspring and loved ones bid you an earlier farewell?

Monday: Freeze A Grin

This is the way of the work force: using women as if they were men; using men as if they were animals.

~Yu, Shanghai University graduate

The Chinese have it right again.

I am sorry
I never mean to leave you alone in your struggles
Never mean to only watch you from this distance

You have retained my admiration, if not respect
For not giving up, for keeping up the fight
When others have chosen to rest

Yet I am too frightened to be near you
I even become too tense to laugh
Your presence petrifies me

You tell me how worthless I am
Vomit on me your words of contempt
As I feign indifference and neglect

We keep hurting each other

I am sorry

Frazzled

How long has it been since I last enjoyed my obligation-free holiday.. that holiday when I can do ‘nothing’.. save those I feel like doing.. and not even worry about spending too much and getting fat?

Ten years – no, fifteen, twenty years!

Is the grown-up world that malicious?

Holidays have become synonymous with endless demands from the gods of the world. There is ‘no choice’ but to obediently, dutifully, attend to others’ needs. There is ‘no choice’ but to whip myself to run faster in this rat race world – not so I can win the race, just so I won’t be left too far behind. There is ‘no choice’ but to do my work.

“You can change the way you look at it,” says someone.

But I have become too guilty to sleep. I can’t even enjoy a massage without having a million thoughts running through my mind.

Like a candle burned from both sides.

There was a day in university, when I decided to skip classes for one whole day – ‘floating’ at home, doing nothing, with no questions asked – simply to de-clutter my heart and my mind. How resurrected I felt the next day!

I’m glad I did it. Grateful for it.

There is no more chance do it now. If I skip there’ll be arrangement to do for my substitutes, who will most likely be unhappy. My bosses will demand a ‘professional’ explanation. And the HRD will deduct my salary.. dammit.

Have I reached the point of no return?

I never said, but really
I admire Heidi Klum
She is a masterpiece
Truly a work of art
One I marvel at
Even though she
Does my self-esteem
More harm than good

Wonder what he's thinking?
"Football. Sex. Food. Sex. Politics. Work. That weird smell in the car. World peace. Sex. Am I good looking? Work. Sex."
Are we so different after all? Uh, yes.
- Anonymous

Mothers' Stories

Four Catholic mothers are chit-chatting in a café.

The first mother says to her three friends, “My son is a Priest. Whenever he walks into a room, everyone greets him ‘Father’”.

Not to be defeated, the second mother says, “My son is a Bishop. Whenever he walks into a room, everyone greets him ‘Blessed Bishop’”.

The third mother adds on, “My son is a Cardinal. Whenever he walks into a room, everyone greets him ‘Holy Cardinal’”.

The fourth mother remains silent.

Finally, no longer patient in waiting, the three mothers ask in chorus, “What about your son?”

The fourth mother replies, “My son is a successful young executive. He’s six feet tall.. has broad chest and muscled arms.. He's friendly.. very handsome, and always well-dressed. Everytime he walks into a room, all women sigh, ‘Oh my God…’”.

Life is beautiful, but being stressed out is never that pretty.