每一次听到我英文部门主任的消息，我的心都久久不能平复。
她的先生今天来我的学校收拾她的东西，学校里的资深教员纷纷围着他慰问主任。他也不讳言她的近况。他说她常常发高烧，并有惊风的情况。起初只是翻白眼，后来越来越严重，甚至整个身子往后弓，像杂耍般。
她那可怜的孩子也已经三个月大了，却变相地失去妈妈。
每一次听到她的消息或探访她之后，我都会不由自主地发起呆来，脑子里都是‘为什么’：
为什么这样不幸的事情会发生在她身上？为什么会这样？为什么在这个时候发生？如果她没怀孕，是不是就不会这样？为什么好人没好报？为什么 。。。
这么年轻的生命，因为一次中风，整个命运都瞬间改变。她的唯美，她的完美主义，她的干劲，她所拥有的职衔和荣耀，都一一化为乌有。
为什么生命是如此奇妙，却又是如此不平？给我们这么多希望，又给我们莫大的绝境；给我们幸福，又给我们更大的痛苦？
每一次想到她，心里就有莫名的痛楚。她不是我的亲人，却与我有着一种比只是同事之间更加深刻的连接关系。
法丽娜，妳快醒来，快快好起来啊！我好想念那个不停催我做这做那的妳。我再也不会希望妳别这么快回校了！
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Wee Nam Kee Chicken Rice 威南记鸡饭餐室
After picking up Coco at her enrichment centre last night, we ate at Wee Nam Kee Chicken Rice （威南记鸡饭餐室）opposite Novena Church. We were hungry and tired and it was late. We didn't have many choices. But my sister sang praises of this place, so there we went.
The Mainlander server took our order: steamed chicken, $11.
When the chicken came, there was a chicken wing on top of the dish. We started eating.
To our horror, beneath that one and only chicken wing, which was only just the mid joint and the tip of the wing itself, the rest were all breast meat!
Even when we packet chicken rice home, we would order chicken drumstick rice, or worse comes to worse, chicken without breast meat.
Now, the whole plate was breast meat! Imagine our dismay.
The Mainlander server took our order: steamed chicken, $11.
When the chicken came, there was a chicken wing on top of the dish. We started eating.
To our horror, beneath that one and only chicken wing, which was only just the mid joint and the tip of the wing itself, the rest were all breast meat!
Even when we packet chicken rice home, we would order chicken drumstick rice, or worse comes to worse, chicken without breast meat.
Now, the whole plate was breast meat! Imagine our dismay.
The last few pieces of thick, dry breast meat that no one could bring herself to down
And the cucumber slice feedback cum silent protest I left behind(awful)
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Pushed over the limit
I replied the lawyer to confirm the facts I gave him in our last meeting after 3 weeks he emailed me.
Even up till that point, I was still trying to give him yet another last chance.
I was trying to see if he would really change.
Indeed, what we said about him came true. He handed me his money for a few instances. After that, no more.
His debts remained huge. I only managed to pay off $1000 to Standard Chartered in August. He promised to give me $2000 every 29th of the month. But no, he 'don't have the money'. Expectedly.
The last incident was the breakdown of the washing machine.
It's been two weeks since it broke down.
It's beyond repair.
He bought a second-hand washing machine. I was against it even before it came. I bought second-hand furniture because they were cheap and faults would be obvious to the naked eye. But I would not buy a second-hand electrical appliance because you never know how it was handled. And if it'd worked well, why would the owner sell it?
He insisted that the store was 'reputated' and the washing machine was a 'trade-in', so it would be in working condition.
But no. The washing machine didn't budge beyond the second stage.
I said,"I told you so." (Yeah, I know it's hated, but he never listens to his wife. So I had to say it.)
Then he got the man to replace something inside the washing machine and promised that it would work.
No still. It was still at the same fault.
Then the person promised him a cheap washing machine. I told him to get a refund.
All the while, I was handwashing my clothes. Already very frustrated.
Then he went down to the stores to look at the washing machines himself.
I just felt very ... sad, for a lack of better word, about our marriage.
I have been wanting to watch Julia Roberts' new show. But I don't have a company.
Which couple doesn't shop for a washing machine together?
We.
I asked myself why our marriage is in such a sad state?
The only answer I have: this is not a marriage.
A marriage without sex, money, love, trust, faith, good words, future ...
I asked myself if those two years of happiness during courtship had worth the many pains and agony I've gone through for these five years.
I asked myself if Coco going to a good school has been worth all my misery for marrying a jerk.
I had told myself I would put up with the loneliness of being a single mother when I decided to have Coco, but this loneliness and frustration of being married to a lousy husband has been absolutely tormenting. I asked myself if it's really the loneliness that I cannot handle, or is it the daily frustrations of being with such a man that is causing me to break down.
I feel that being married to him has hurt me in all ways, even in my job. I suspect that his bad reputation had reached the ears of the bitch or even my First Boss to make them feel that I deserve a D since he was a triple D case.
By divorcing him, I will lose the flat, and my home studio will never come true. I'll probably really have to slog in a job I hate forever. I know I might lose Baby since it'll be difficult for me to keep two kids.
Even so, I know, in my heart of hearts, the divorce has to be done. Sooner or later.
Even up till that point, I was still trying to give him yet another last chance.
I was trying to see if he would really change.
Indeed, what we said about him came true. He handed me his money for a few instances. After that, no more.
His debts remained huge. I only managed to pay off $1000 to Standard Chartered in August. He promised to give me $2000 every 29th of the month. But no, he 'don't have the money'. Expectedly.
The last incident was the breakdown of the washing machine.
It's been two weeks since it broke down.
It's beyond repair.
He bought a second-hand washing machine. I was against it even before it came. I bought second-hand furniture because they were cheap and faults would be obvious to the naked eye. But I would not buy a second-hand electrical appliance because you never know how it was handled. And if it'd worked well, why would the owner sell it?
He insisted that the store was 'reputated' and the washing machine was a 'trade-in', so it would be in working condition.
But no. The washing machine didn't budge beyond the second stage.
I said,"I told you so." (Yeah, I know it's hated, but he never listens to his wife. So I had to say it.)
Then he got the man to replace something inside the washing machine and promised that it would work.
No still. It was still at the same fault.
Then the person promised him a cheap washing machine. I told him to get a refund.
All the while, I was handwashing my clothes. Already very frustrated.
Then he went down to the stores to look at the washing machines himself.
I just felt very ... sad, for a lack of better word, about our marriage.
I have been wanting to watch Julia Roberts' new show. But I don't have a company.
Which couple doesn't shop for a washing machine together?
We.
I asked myself why our marriage is in such a sad state?
The only answer I have: this is not a marriage.
A marriage without sex, money, love, trust, faith, good words, future ...
I asked myself if those two years of happiness during courtship had worth the many pains and agony I've gone through for these five years.
I asked myself if Coco going to a good school has been worth all my misery for marrying a jerk.
I had told myself I would put up with the loneliness of being a single mother when I decided to have Coco, but this loneliness and frustration of being married to a lousy husband has been absolutely tormenting. I asked myself if it's really the loneliness that I cannot handle, or is it the daily frustrations of being with such a man that is causing me to break down.
I feel that being married to him has hurt me in all ways, even in my job. I suspect that his bad reputation had reached the ears of the bitch or even my First Boss to make them feel that I deserve a D since he was a triple D case.
By divorcing him, I will lose the flat, and my home studio will never come true. I'll probably really have to slog in a job I hate forever. I know I might lose Baby since it'll be difficult for me to keep two kids.
Even so, I know, in my heart of hearts, the divorce has to be done. Sooner or later.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Insecure about photography?
I dreamt that I had a rude shock when I opened my photo album. The pictures were all gone!
I have quite a few 5-pieces-of-4R-per-page photo albums just for the past one year alone. Among them was an album specially for Coco's photographs. When I opened that one up in my dream, I was horrified to find that the photos have gone missing.
In the dream, I was too shocked for words. My babysitter was equally dumbfounded when she saw me panic.
I haven't been taking photos actually. I have been reading up on strobes and studio photography. I wonder if that could have contributed to the insecurity portrayed in my dream.
I have quite a few 5-pieces-of-4R-per-page photo albums just for the past one year alone. Among them was an album specially for Coco's photographs. When I opened that one up in my dream, I was horrified to find that the photos have gone missing.
In the dream, I was too shocked for words. My babysitter was equally dumbfounded when she saw me panic.
I haven't been taking photos actually. I have been reading up on strobes and studio photography. I wonder if that could have contributed to the insecurity portrayed in my dream.
Friday, 8 October 2010
Fall from great height
Some time ago, I dreamt of myself falling from great height.
The fall was petrifying. As I fell, I kept asking myself if it was a dream or reality. And I was going down, down, down ...
As I hit the ground, I woke.
A nightmare no less.
The fall was petrifying. As I fell, I kept asking myself if it was a dream or reality. And I was going down, down, down ...
As I hit the ground, I woke.
A nightmare no less.
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
'Fire!'
Coco didn't do very well for her Chinese Paper One (composition) yesterday.
She didn't complete it in fact. She said that the classroom clock was down and she didn't have a watch with her. As a result, she left the last paragraph undone.
I was quite disappointed, but there was nothing I could do.
Today, I had her practise her English composition. I gave her a three-picture fire scenario and gave a time allowance of 50 minutes.
To my pleasant surprise, I thought she wrote very well for a 10-year-old.
Her work:
"Sniff, sniff!" "What's that smell?" I thought as I walked towards the block of flats I lived in. It was quite late at night and I had just returned home, tired out, after a whole day spent at the zoo as a school excursion. The moon was shining so brightly, that I looked up to admire it. Suddenly, I noticed, beside the moon, there was a huge billow of black smoke! "How strange ..." I thought, I looked at the black smoke closely and relised that the smoke was coming from Mother Earth! With a dawning horror, I knew in a flash, what was happening. Black smoke could only mean one thing: Fire! And it was nearby too! I decided to go there and see how big the fire was ... ...
As I came in to sight of the fire, I stopped in my tracks. A shophouse was burning up! The place was engulfed in smoke! It was Uncle Lin's shophouse that was burning up! I had a crush on Bethany, Courtny and Faith's sister Hope for the longest time I could remember! I hope the Lin family were out. Suddenly I remembered to call the fire brigard. I whipped out my cell phone and called the fire brigard ... ...
Suddenly, I heard a distant scream, familiar to my ears. It was Hope's voice. I heard a "Help!". It was Hope calling for help! Muttering a fast prayer under my breath, I turned to look at the shophouse. Hope was trapped on the upper level of the shophouse! I felt my jaw fall open. Hope! I whispered a prayer that before the fire got to her, the fire brigard would come ... ...
"Ee-aw, ee-aw!" the fire brigard's sirens could be heard. The firemen extinguished the burning inferno while the captain had went to the window which Hope was at just now and carried her down. I was releved that Hope was not hurt. Hope thanked me for calling the fire brigard and I started dating Hope. It turned out that Hope's mother had forgotten to turn off the stove and thus caused a fire. Hope learned never to trust her mother with anything flammable and I learned that the old saying of if you do a good deed, you will be rewarded is true!
(red font - mistakes; blue font - my addition)
I like how the writing made me laugh out loud. I haven't been tickled by a piece of writing for too long. I thought it cute to add the 'crush' bit and how 'I' ended up dating Hope for the good deed I did, and Hope's learning never to trust her mother with something flammable again.
I am almost proud that Coco is developing her style of writing. The pictures came in a model composition assessment book, but she did not even bother to check out the 'pompous' - as some people call it - or bombastic vocabulary used in the model compositions.
I do notice that she has a preference for '... ...' . In fact, all her first three paragraphs end with the same punctuation mark.
Having been a Paper One marker at the all-important PSLE exam, I had a nasty surprise at how high a standard many children's writings were. I remember feeling totally uneasy and worried about my school kids' composition results at PSLE as I marked those fantastic scripts. Compared to these scripts, my school kids are at Primary 2 or 3 standard of writing. They won't be able to match that kinda standard for another ten years.
The marking experience made me do a reality check and decide to send her for enrichment lessons on her supposedly-already-good English. I guess it was a wise decision after all. It has so far piqued her desire to be better in the language to match up to the centre's standard.
And for the writing that I see now, boy am I glad to say that for once in my life, I think I've made a right decision. Of course, she might have developed her writing ability on her own, but it doesn't matter to me. I needed her to know that for something that's already great, it still has room for improvement.
(Talking about 'room for improvement', I better start preparing student's remarks for the year-end result slips!)
She didn't complete it in fact. She said that the classroom clock was down and she didn't have a watch with her. As a result, she left the last paragraph undone.
I was quite disappointed, but there was nothing I could do.
Today, I had her practise her English composition. I gave her a three-picture fire scenario and gave a time allowance of 50 minutes.
To my pleasant surprise, I thought she wrote very well for a 10-year-old.
Her work:
"Sniff, sniff!" "What's that smell?" I thought as I walked towards the block of flats I lived in. It was quite late at night and I had just returned home, tired out, after a whole day spent at the zoo as a school excursion. The moon was shining so brightly, that I looked up to admire it. Suddenly, I noticed, beside the moon, there was a huge billow of black smoke! "How strange ..." I thought, I looked at the black smoke closely and relised that the smoke was coming from Mother Earth! With a dawning horror, I knew in a flash, what was happening. Black smoke could only mean one thing: Fire! And it was nearby too! I decided to go there and see how big the fire was ... ...
As I came in to sight of the fire, I stopped in my tracks. A shophouse was burning up! The place was engulfed in smoke! It was Uncle Lin's shophouse that was burning up! I had a crush on Bethany, Courtny and Faith's sister Hope for the longest time I could remember! I hope the Lin family were out. Suddenly I remembered to call the fire brigard. I whipped out my cell phone and called the fire brigard ... ...
Suddenly, I heard a distant scream, familiar to my ears. It was Hope's voice. I heard a "Help!". It was Hope calling for help! Muttering a fast prayer under my breath, I turned to look at the shophouse. Hope was trapped on the upper level of the shophouse! I felt my jaw fall open. Hope! I whispered a prayer that before the fire got to her, the fire brigard would come ... ...
"Ee-aw, ee-aw!" the fire brigard's sirens could be heard. The firemen extinguished the burning inferno while the captain had went to the window which Hope was at just now and carried her down. I was releved that Hope was not hurt. Hope thanked me for calling the fire brigard and I started dating Hope. It turned out that Hope's mother had forgotten to turn off the stove and thus caused a fire. Hope learned never to trust her mother with anything flammable and I learned that the old saying of if you do a good deed, you will be rewarded is true!
(red font - mistakes; blue font - my addition)
I like how the writing made me laugh out loud. I haven't been tickled by a piece of writing for too long. I thought it cute to add the 'crush' bit and how 'I' ended up dating Hope for the good deed I did, and Hope's learning never to trust her mother with something flammable again.
I am almost proud that Coco is developing her style of writing. The pictures came in a model composition assessment book, but she did not even bother to check out the 'pompous' - as some people call it - or bombastic vocabulary used in the model compositions.
I do notice that she has a preference for '... ...' . In fact, all her first three paragraphs end with the same punctuation mark.
Having been a Paper One marker at the all-important PSLE exam, I had a nasty surprise at how high a standard many children's writings were. I remember feeling totally uneasy and worried about my school kids' composition results at PSLE as I marked those fantastic scripts. Compared to these scripts, my school kids are at Primary 2 or 3 standard of writing. They won't be able to match that kinda standard for another ten years.
The marking experience made me do a reality check and decide to send her for enrichment lessons on her supposedly-already-good English. I guess it was a wise decision after all. It has so far piqued her desire to be better in the language to match up to the centre's standard.
And for the writing that I see now, boy am I glad to say that for once in my life, I think I've made a right decision. Of course, she might have developed her writing ability on her own, but it doesn't matter to me. I needed her to know that for something that's already great, it still has room for improvement.
(Talking about 'room for improvement', I better start preparing student's remarks for the year-end result slips!)
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
This is Life
Every once a week when I take my elder kid to her enrichment class, I would pop over to visit my Boss who is still heavily sedated in an ICU ward.
Our close working relationship is only part of the reason I visit her so frequently. Another part of the reason is I feel that to a large extent, her stroke not only affected her destiny, it also has a great impact on mine.
If not for her stroke, I would not get a D. She would be at the management meeting to speak up for me for the amount of work I have done and the academic impact I have made on the upper levels.
If not for her stroke, I would not contemplate quitting. All along, I thought I would be a teacher till I die, amidst the grumbling and grouses.
Whenever I visit her, I think about how she would feel if she could feel, how she would think if she could think, how things would be very different for me and for her if not for her stroke, how life indeed makes sport of us, albeit in a not-so-funny way, when she will be able to get up and walk, when she can start on a physiological therapy to ensure her mobility, when she will regain her senses.
When she called me on 24 August and asked if everything was alright, I was tempted to tell her that I was given a D. But I thought it not exactly appropriate since she wasn't my sup and was on her maternity leave. I thought that she would be informed about it when she returned to work in October anyway, and she would be able to speak up for me then.
It was only a matter of days, and she fell to a stroke. And my fate, and hers, were sealed.
I wish I could say that life is unfair, juvenile as it sounds. Yet I know: this is life.
Our close working relationship is only part of the reason I visit her so frequently. Another part of the reason is I feel that to a large extent, her stroke not only affected her destiny, it also has a great impact on mine.
If not for her stroke, I would not get a D. She would be at the management meeting to speak up for me for the amount of work I have done and the academic impact I have made on the upper levels.
If not for her stroke, I would not contemplate quitting. All along, I thought I would be a teacher till I die, amidst the grumbling and grouses.
Whenever I visit her, I think about how she would feel if she could feel, how she would think if she could think, how things would be very different for me and for her if not for her stroke, how life indeed makes sport of us, albeit in a not-so-funny way, when she will be able to get up and walk, when she can start on a physiological therapy to ensure her mobility, when she will regain her senses.
When she called me on 24 August and asked if everything was alright, I was tempted to tell her that I was given a D. But I thought it not exactly appropriate since she wasn't my sup and was on her maternity leave. I thought that she would be informed about it when she returned to work in October anyway, and she would be able to speak up for me then.
It was only a matter of days, and she fell to a stroke. And my fate, and hers, were sealed.
I wish I could say that life is unfair, juvenile as it sounds. Yet I know: this is life.
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