my heart is broken

After 3 intense months (Oct till now) of being infatuated with Mr Incredible, I finally found out the dreaded truth that every girl hates to know about her crush. Exactly 2 and a half hours ago. Don't ask.

Right now, my heart is beating like the fragile wings of a tiny little dove, my body is shaking not from the cold but from sobs, my head is spinning from scolding myself, and my eyes are brimming with tears that keep overflowing onto my cheeks, even onto my keyboard as I type.

I'm now scared to set my hopes so high again, getting them dashed by another girl's presence is horrible. I don't know what to do now. I mean, I know what to do...the usual jazz...just (try to) get over him and stop thinking about him, but I dun wan to do it... I don't think I can trust myself not to repeat this one-sided thingy again...

I should have known that this infatuation will only hurt me. Why am I so silly as to keep all his SMSes, to find chances to talk to him, and be thrilled even when I see the spelling of his name. I risk being labelled a psycho and a stalker. But I'm NOT, I just adore him too much. I keep running back to this worn and beaten track of unrequited love. Why do I get my heart held on a string, and then get it broken?

Just now was the only time I ripped off my nonchalent mask normally shown to the world. I took my time crying at the orchard MRT station...there were some ah bengs beside me fooling around...but i sat with my back towards them and faced the wall, i cried silently while telling Karen what happened...who I saw him with...like in drama serials, the female lead feeling devastated after seeing with her own eyes the reality unfolding...that he's not yours and can't be yours and won't be yours...

I know I can’t forget him...Mr Incredible is such a perfect character - talented, godly, humourous, motivated, good-looking, passionate, sensitive, hardworking, savvy, committed. And this had to happen on the SAME day he raised the bar of any possibilities between us. And he was the one to both make and break me. I CANNOT blame him, it would be irrational to dump my repercussions of unrequited love all on him. It's me, not him (as cliched as it sounds). But... How do I just put away someone who have been running back and forth through my mind every other day? How do I make that as easy as opening and shutting a door? How do I make the pain dissipate overnight? How??? I know the answer of course...to lift it all to the Lord. But then again, I am either too stubborn or too disappointed to do it...

The hurting feeling is coming straight from my bones. I feel I am the bearer of a burdensome sorrow, yet at the same time, a bystander watching, as if from the outside of me. I feel so so numb. In a very deep sense, I want to not be myself. I feel like I want to do just about anything to become someone else, to crawl out of my circumstances where rejection and tears could not follow.

Perhaps, this is the same kind of internal sorrow and extreme sadness that leads young girls to cut and abuse themselves. Anything at all to numb the heartache. Numb me.

As I thought about all these things, I thought, how strange to be a Christian— one who promotes to others a message of healing and redemption — and to almost consciously reject that faith myself, when pain comes right smack in my face. Why am I so ironic?

There's a broken heart for sale. Any takers?

jesus is the reason for the season

Santa lives at the North Pole ...
JESUS is everywhere.

Santa rides in a sleigh ...
JESUS rides on the wind and walks on the water.

Santa comes but once a year ...
JESUS is an ever present help.

Santa fills your stockings with goodies ...
JESUS supplies all your needs.

Santa comes down your chimney uninvited ...
JESUS stands at your door and knocks, and then enters your heart when invited.

You have to wait in line to see Santa ...
JESUS is as close as the mention of His name.

Santa lets you sit on his lap ...
JESUS lets you rest in His arms.

Santa doesn't know your name; all he can say is, "Hi little boy or girl, what's your name?" ...
JESUS knew our name before we did; not only does He know our name, He knows our history and future and He even knows how many hairs are on our heads.

Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly ...
JESUS has a heart full of love.

All Santa can offer is HO HO HO ...
JESUS offers Health, Help and Hope.

Santa says "You better not cry" ...
JESUS says "Cast all your cares on me for I care for you."

Santa's little helpers make toys ...
JESUS makes new life, mends wounded hearts, repairs broken homes.

Santa may make you chuckle but ...
JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.

While Santa puts gifts under your tree ...
JESUS became our gift and died on a tree.

It's obvious there is really no comparison. We need to remember WHO Christmas is all about. We need to put Christ back in CHRISTmas because Jesus is still the reason for the season!

Merry Christmas!

a force to reckon with

Cast off those shackles, people, here is a force to be reckoned with.

Remember the famopus "dustbin band" STOMP (http://www.stomponline.com/) who performed in Singapore in 1999? What makes STOMP so appealing is that the cast uses everyday objects in non-traditional ways to play music. STOMP takes the everyday sounds of pipes and brooms, lighters and garbage pail lids, and creates the extraordinary.

What's happening in Singapore? We're going to have our very own STOMP-inspired band, called the Strikeforce. The Strikeforce is a collective of performers from all walks of life that fuses Rhythm, Movement & Drumming into one exciting display of Raw-Power, Innovation & Energy. The core motivating factor is NOT Talent only but Commitment and Willingness to Learn. This band transforms plain dustbins into mini art forms cum boisterous music instruments. The strikeforce is all about 'community drumming', to take music to the streets, straight to the people.

The Strikeforce is made up of an interesting mix of different ages, personalities and occupations that range from teachers, Africans, engineers, designers, IT managers, salesmen, and students of all shapes and sizes. This group has ages ranging from 6 to 66 coming together for 'drum circles' in an Informal but highly Inclusive manner, which means whoever you are, JOIN IN! The Strikeforce started with an intention to educate the young, inspire the yuppies and enrich the elderly. We do not differentiate people and we break the stick-in-the-mud mindset that the Chinese do not have a sense of rhythm.

The Strikeforce is a core and integral part of the City Harvest Music Ministry. This elite group of musicians are constantly called upon to perform at various national and community events like the Chingay Parade. With heart thumping, earth shaking beats, The Strikeforce gave stunning performances each and every time, combining not only their instruments but also coordinated dance steps to give the audience an amazing show.

The Strikeforce.

A Force to reckon with.

i'm a metrosexual spy

I spy with my little eye...something beginning with 'M'!

A Met.roh.SEK.shoo.ul, for the smaller-eyed uninitiated, is a noun for an urban male with a heightened aesthetic sense who spends a great deal of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle.

For the past few months, I have been spotting guys who lists the calorie count of their food, checks their reflection in anything reflective, styles their hair to perfection, loves clothes and the very act of shopping for them, and describes themselves as SNAGS. But all these are straight men, as straight as a ruler, who seem stereotypically gay except when it comes to sexual orientation.

I spy that Singapore is a haven for the metrosexual. The typical metrosexual is a young man living in a metropolis — hence the term 'metro-sexual'. The typical metrosexual is a clotheshorse cum narcissist. His middle name is "vanity". Like soccer captain David Beckham, who has been known to paint his fingernails, the metrosexual is not afraid to embrace his feminine side.

Mark Simpson invented this term in 1994 and since then, there is no escaping the metrosexual. My own example of a RMM - Rather Macho Metrosexual (just as tough inside, but softer at the edges) around me is succinctly described below:

• Owns a full set of branded bags - matching haversack, duffel bag, gym bag, messenger bag (note they're 'matching')
• Does some mean cooking - curry, pasta and the like
• Enjoys dressing up in safari style - with highcut boots, carabina utility belts and the works (note key words are 'dressing up')
• Willing to tweeze or trim eyebrows
• Wears bright undies and maybe Calvin Klein boxers (as compared to Hanes tighty-whities)
• Takes nicely to fragrances and facial mists

AND YET...

• Secure in his heterosexuality, squirms at the mention of gays
• Reads lad mags such as New Man, Maxim and FHM
• Able to get out of the house and be seen with hair unstyled
• Owns shoes like dirty sneakers and worn-out moccasins like a old scrubby frat
• Has own DIY toolbox complete with powered handdrill
• Freak for tech gizmos, sports, drums and anything the boys dig

IN ALL...

Quite suave, confident yet image-conscious. Still a metrosexual.

Any guesses who? Or are you one too?

goodbye wunderman, hello yamaha!

As it was increasingly apparent that the account servicing cum data analytics position at DYR Wunderman is unsuitable due to the dog-eat-dog environment and cut-throat world of advertising over there, it is now a memory card slotted away somewhere in my brain. Plus Johnnie Walker isn't so much my cup of tea (or whiskey) either. Perhaps the only stuff i'll miss are the free-for-all vendin' machine, my trusty lappie and da nice blue pool table.

So after some deliberation, it's bye to Wunderman and hii to Yamaha! Mind you, music education rawks! Let's explore what this means. "[The Marketing Executive] develops, executes and manages strategies for all music courses in support of sales objectives and cultural initiatives. In the pipeline will be A&P work, branding activities, marketing collatarels, localised concerts, event roadshows, school promotions, website revamp, marcom stuff... In other words, prepare the company for the future, spread the love for learning music, be a history-maker and world-shaker." *grins*

How does that sound to me? Pretty trippy! Don't just take my word for it, grill me about it one month later!

scribbles from a small island

Stuff to entertain your gwai-lou friends...

Three men are sitting around a table outside a coffee shop. A 'coffee shop' in Singapore doesn't mean anything like Starbucks, even less a café in a hotel. It's a very downmarket place where you find cheap food, dirty tables, steamy air and disgusting social habits. Singaporeans frequently take their meals in coffee shops, with much insouciance.

All three men are wearing polo shirts with faded horizontal stripes and wilted collars. Two have sand-blasted denim jeans; the youngest one in his late twenties in a pair of bermudas. Two are in sandals, the third in boots. They're working-class men, maybe electricians or crane drivers.

There isn't much conversation. They just sit there, comfortable in each other's company, coming up with an occasional remark -- in Hokkien -- between puffs of tobacco. 'Unwinding', I suppose, is the word.

'Reddening' is another apt word. Their faces. Steadily reddening from beer. There are three large bottles on the table, mostly finished. Then along comes the Tiger Beer sales promoter in blue and yellow. She's in her mid-thirties, getting a bit plump, with hair and nails done up, and a skirt oh too short for her varicosed legs. Quite apparently, she's never heard of colour co-ordination either. Poised midway between being an Ah Lian and an Ah Soh, there is an attempt to be fashionable, crushed by the reality of working in a sweaty coffee shop.

But she's chatty, and the men's faces light up when she approaches. Heterosexual men are so predictable! They joke with her, she ribs them back, saucily. She refills their glasses from the last of the bottles, and ask if they want more. Ya, sure, they say. And she goes off to fetch another three bottles. What an easy job!

* * * * *

Smoking and drinking are, sadly, part of our broader culture. Men [seem to] think they're more manly or macho if they do that. It's very hard to deny men, gay or straight, their [idea of] masculinity. In addition, beer and tobacco are addictive. Once people are hooked, you can't ban it like you can ban chewing gum (but even then, I can tell you, the chewing gum ban doesn't work very well).

Unless we want to be isolationist like North Korea, it will be difficult to turn off the spigot. We can try to maintain a public policy that is at the more prohibitive end of the global spectrum of opinion, but we can't insist on a level of intolerance not supported by worldwide trends.

Or else, just imagine this scenario, say in the lucrative tourism sector of our economy, for one. If we totally banned smoking in Singapore, three-quarters of our Japanese and Chinese visitors would be suffering cold-turkey in our lushly carpeted hotel rooms, vowing never to come back. We wouldn't want that to happen, don't we?

for when i am weak, then i am strong

I was agonizing, slumped in my chair. This is the critical moment in my life. I have not made any progress, but on the contrary, fallen. This is the Defining Dark.

I shouted angrily, with building rage: "God? Are you up there? Do you know what's happening in my life? When I was down in the dumps, nobody helped me, God, nobody!" I shoke my fist. I asked:" Is this the reward for all those years of breaking my back? Is THIS what kind of God you are?" I covered my face with my hands.

Slowly, an angel moved behind me.

To stand guard about with vigilance.

To thwart the enemy for me.

Then, I had a revelation -- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10.
"He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

A revelation indeed!!!

My weakness is not a detriment. When I am weak for God, it is an advantage. God’s work can only be done in God’s strength, not my own strength. It is not easy to accept of it; it is far from easy to see its full meaning.

I personally don't like to feel utterly weak. I have let my weakness defeat me at times. My focus gets stuck on myself and on my circumstances, not on Jesus Christ.

The christian often tries to forget his weakness; God wants us to remember it, to feel it deeply. The christian wants to conquer his weakness and to be freed from it; God wants us to rest in it. The christian mourns over his weakness; God teaches us to take pleasure in infirmities. The christian thinks his weakness is the greatest hindrance; God tells us that it is the secret of strength and success.

God’s strength is given to the work that is done in faith. It takes a living faith to take pleasure in weaknesses, and in weakness to do our work, knowing that God is working in us. Without seeing or feeling anything, to go on in the confidence of a hidden power working in us — this is the highest exercise of a life of faith, amid outwardly unfavourable circumstances.

Help me, God!
It is in being crippled that I learn to cling,
and in limping that I learn to lean,
that victory comes not in how I struggle
but in how completely I surrender,
and this is how I am to grow,
by being defeated constantly.
Your power is perfected in weakness,
so that when I am rendered weak,
You are given the opportunity to be shown strong.

Amen.

I stood up. I am now strong.