Sad Sunday afternoon for kitty

Sasha had a bath. This was her climbing onto Joel's bed and licking herself dry.

And this was a drier Sasha snuggling up to a sleeping Joel's leg looking sad and woebegone.

What I'd miss

Today we sat around in the open quadrangle, singing praises to God while music from the guitar rang out to all four corners of the soccer field as we sang to our hearts' delight. Only then did I realise that this is what I'd miss most about University life...sitting in a circle with good company, in common intent, gazing up to the lovely blue sky and passing clouds and knowing, knowing that I'm loved.

That I'm very much treasured and loved.

Sunday Afternoons

Sunday afternoons are meant for sleeping, meant for laziness to kick in, meant for a little belly rub and neck scratch.

But Sunday afternoons are also well-spent strolling hand in hand through the park, to the reservoir. They are well-spent dancing in the rain or praying side by side. They are well-spent sitting beside the lazy permanent resident of the park, chuckling at her tosses and turns, talking about anything that Sunday brings.

I love Sunday afternoons. :)

Assault

Got assaulted today...by my mom.

Started out with a jog in the morning on the usual route. Was about to cross the road when I stupidly deviated from the pavement and stepped into a hole in the grass (I think). Next thing I knew my headphones detached from the iPod which went flying in another direction and a loud 'crack' sound, and I'm on the grass. Pushed myself off the ground and felt momentarily glad that I missed the pavement and landed on the grass instead, sat there for a while groaning over my left ankle. Some auntie pushing a silly cart saw me and went on her way, like any typical Singaporean would. I then stood up, picked up the iPod and hobbled to the nearest bus stop and took two buses back.

My brother accompanied me to the doctor's, doctor confirmed that it was only a sprain, gave away $12 for a 5 min consultation. My mom rushed back because my brother phoned her and said I was crying (I was not!) and in pain, and saw that I was neither. Then began her assault. I never quite comprehend my consent to be accupuntured. She had her needles and I was screaming my head off. Then she proceeded on to rub at the injured bit with some ointment and was merciless at that. I writhed and trashed about, hitting her arm as she determinedly went on her way and calling me an ingrate for hurting her so. It was a horrible horrible bit of ordeal.

The ankle swelled even more after that and I could not bring myself to school. And the worst bit is knowing that all the nice 5 min doctor advised was to 'R-rest, I-ice, C-compress, E-elevate it and you'd be well in a week!'

Ironic thing is that last night before sleeping I read this medical case about how this pregnant woman who was suffering from some illness refused to have the c-section against the doctors' advice, but apparently the doctors went ahead with the procedure, saving both mom and baby. The woman sued the hospital after that and the judge said that she had a right to her bodily integrity and freedom of choice so it was an assault to her.

I suppose with regards to moms, children like me have neither such right nor freedom of choice. :p

I saw what I saw

A rather inspirational song by Sara Groves. It's really touching and encouraging at the same time. A fair bit of tussle at home today, I don't wish for better parents but somehow I've always wished for more inconsequential things to worry about, like clothes, what to write in blog, what hairstyle to cut, maybe what grades I'd get. I hear you say that it builds character. But the process is painful and ongoing, there's no way to abandon it or even an option to throw in the towel and declare 'I quit'. It's a burden, yet a blessing if it builds character. Yet in my weak moments I'd gladly be that happy spoilt person. This 'character-building process' has brought me neither joy nor peace.

I saw what I saw and I can't forget it
I heard what I heard and I can't go back
I know what I know and I can't deny it

Something on the road, cut me to the soul

Your pain has changed me
your dream inspires
your face a memory
your hope a fire
your courage asks me what I'm afraid of
(what I am made of)
and what I know of love
and what I know of God

we've done what we've done and we can't erase it
we are what we are and it's more than enough
we have what we have but it's no substitution

Something on the road, touched my very soul

I say what I say with no hesitation
I have what I have and I'm giving it up
I do what I do with deep conviction

Something on the road, changed my world

Hm

I wonder who still reads this blog. Ah well.

Few weeks after AnnTIC and being fired up about the need to raise awareness about social injustices, the importance of standing up against these structural evils etc, only to return to Singapore and reading news of the assassination of Bhutto, the killings in Kenya. Then a brief holiday in Vietnam and seeing the remnants of the war, the people affected by Agent Orange.

It's like hoping for light in the world of darkness.

I feel blessed to be in Singapore yet burdened by it. Because I know that for the one who is given blessings more will be expected of her.