I Cry Defiance

You are my senior. You have only to ask, and I will follow.

Be careful what you ask for.

You can ask me to hurry up. You can take things easy. You cannot expect me to hurry while you take things easy. If I run, you run. If you walk, I walk. If I turn around and not see the baton there waiting in my hand, don't expect me to continue running.

You can ask me to hurry up. You can ask me to double check your work. You cannot ask me to hurry up while having to double check your work. If you want me to hurry up, I have to be able that trust you will do your job. I cannot hurry while doing my job and your job at the same time.

You can trust my judgment. You can question my judgment. You cannot cherry-pick which parts of my judgment to trust. My judgment is rendered in its entirety, after considering all the aspects in totality. My judgment is not rendered for your convenience, but your best interests. You take it, good with the bad, or you reject it outright for its flaws.

You can act in good faith. You can keep your power. You cannot keep your power while pretending to act in good faith. That is either hypocrisy or denial, neither of which I condone.

You can ask me to be detached. You can ask me to be loyal. You cannot ask me to be detached while being loyal. Detachment means I feel nothing for you, even loyalty. Detachment requires that I not be here, under-appreciated for what I do. I've given up greener pastures for my loyalty. Don't expect me to feel nothing for what I've given up.

Choose.

Closing a Chapter

I've often wondered what the phrase "closing a chapter" actually means, in the context of life.

Unlike the pages of a storybook, life isn't sorted into neat little bundles of narrative, where events happen sequentially. Unlike prose, there is no discernible main plot and subplot to life, no protagonists, no antagonists, no foreshadowing, no metaphor beyond what the interpreter of life chooses to impose.

Where does that leave Pan Narren's, the storytelling ape?

I'm glad my friend has sorted out his issues. It's been such a long time. To be frank, I don't even miss the money anymore, because I've long since given up hope on it. I'm just glad that he's sorted himself out.

I wonder now, as I've wondered a lot in the past year, whether the money would have honestly made a difference. I don't know, but the speculation drives me fretful. I still wonder to this day, if I was able to make a difference, would I have made that different choice? Would I have avoided the pain, knowing that doing so I would give up the wonderful life I have now?

Life isn't a narrative. I can't flip the pages back, because I don't have any pages to flip back. I can't look forward and skip to the ending. All I can do is to live my life as best as I can.

In that sense at least, perhaps I can "close" this "chapter" with some dignity. Best wishes, old friend, and know that you mean a lot to me still.

Motto of the Day

"Your incompetence does not dictate my sense of urgency."

WTF?

Bloody #@$@%!!! Is my face THAT feminine?

Spoken at Lunch

Me: I'll have the fish and chips.

Waitress: Okay, what would you like to drink?

Me: I'll just have the water.

Waitress: Oh, I'm sorry, we don't serve water here. How about mineral water?

Me: -slightly annoyed- Okay, I'll have an ice tea then.

*****minutes later*****

Waitress: Oh, I'm sorry, we're out of fish for the fish and chips. Would you like to order something else?

Me: -incredibly annoyed- Oh really. Must be the lack of water here.

Word of the Day II

Wanker

1. (UK, Australian English, New Zealand English, slang, pejorative) An idiot, a stupid, annoying or ineffectual person.
2. (UK, Australian English, New Zealand English, slang, pejorative) Someone who shows off too much. Someone who is overly proud of himself.

Don't ask what brought this about.

Ridiculously Tired

Am swamped at work this week. Have a number of corporate training sessions to give, plus am in the midst of changing office.

I must be getting paranoid. I read this on LMD's site and instead of being amused, as I normally am, I started wondering if I happened to be responsible for the "particularly slow and boring training session".

I started becoming particularly paranoid when I realised that I could be reading about a colleague's sexual habits. That would be wrong on so many levels.

Then I looked at the date of posting. It was Wednesday. I didn't conduct a training session on Wednesday. -phew-

Stupid paranoia.

Edit - Am back to being paranoid. LMD's post was at 00.22 Wednesday, which means she was referring to Tuesday afternoon. Ugh. Argh.

Hot and Prickly

I'm down with rashes. Doctor says that it's probably a food allergy. I wouldn't be suprised if I was poisoned somehow after this bit of drama. It's either that or I am just developing an allergy to drama.

I hate antihistamines. They make me drowsy. How's a person supposed to work up righteous rage and smite heathens when he's drowsy? The best I could manage today was an indignant outrage.

I also lost the weekend sleeping off the antihistamines. No swordfighting, minimal gaming, and depleting my diminishing supply of Harry Dresden novels.

I think I'll go kill something now. If I just round up enough effort to be arsed about it.

Drama Dinner

Drama rules my life.

Sunday dinner was supposed to be a simple affair. Miyabi at Raffles Town Club was promoting two lobster specials. Mummy received the flyer, and dragged the whole bunch of us for dinner. So far so good.

When we arrived there, guess what? No lobster. Promotion + no lobster = hissy fit throwing mom.

A scathingly-worded comments card, an email and a harassed floor manager later, we arrived again tonight for lobster. I couldn't resist peeking at the reservation list. Lo and behold, beside my mom's name - "Lobster Reserved".

We arrive at the entrance and the floor manager points at my father's sandals. Wrong dress code. Mummy is not to be denied and browbeats her way to the teppanyaki table. I roll my eyes.

As we are seated, we are served green tea. As the teacups were being placed on the table, I suddenly feel a scalding sensation on my left shirt sleeve. I turn around and I see steaming green tea emptied on my sleeve. Waiter turns a funny shade of white and disappears. The floor manager turns a funnier shade of pale. I lift my sleeve up until the tea cools, then check for burns.

Let's just say I'm glad they don't use scalding hot water for their tea.

Having had it up to my eyeballs in drama, I laugh off the spill and continue with dinner. Not five minutes after the spill, I spot a familiar face. Let's call them Mr and Mrs Chew - parents of an old friend of mine. I walk up to them, wet sleeve and all, to say hi.

They of course ask the question. I reply as honestly as I can. They deserve to know. The silence is defeaning right up to the point my brother steps up and Mr Chew asks him about his life.

When life gives you drama, you make ironic humour.