Emotional Intelligence much?

Screaming bloody murder at a stranger over the phone wasn't exactly my idea of getting the message across to the intended party. But since the said party has been playing hide and seek with me for months now, the pent-up rage just came gushing out once I handed out my ultimatum. All that shouting and yelling felt damn good. Except that I pity the person on the other end of the phone. I wish I took a couple of minutes to apologize to her that the rage wasn't directed at her and she shouldn't take it personally before slamming down the phone. On the other hand, I promptly comforted myself that at some points of our lives, whether we like it or not, we will somehow serve as an outlet for someone else's frustrations, rage, disappointment etc. Either we could empathize and reason that it is not about us and move on, or we could let it spoil our mood and ruin our day. That totally depends on our emotional intelligence.

Easier said than done of course, when I have allowed many incidences get at me and fly off the handle countless times. So much for emotional intelligence!

But my emotional intelligence seemed to be on a high just yesterday when I caught myself thinking, how bad would it be even if I couldn't get what I wanted? My life would not change a single bit because of that. So why should I get all worked up and drained because of a few idiots? I was smiling smugly to myself as these thoughts raced through my mind, proud that I've attained some enlightenment and determined not to let those idiots affect me.

Judging by my outburst today however, that revelation suddenly doesn't seem so revealing after all. Hahaha...

I am Sherlocked

No one will believe just how out of touch I have been. Mad Men, Homeland, Downtown Abbey, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Dexter, The Walking Dead... Not a glimpse of them have I caught. Not even Glee, of which the work-laden former Prime Minister Gordon Brown is a secret fan. Like a friend quipped when I innocently asked years ago what is F4 and who is Cheryl Fox, 'Which planet are you from?' And I was away from Singapore for only six months.

Not that I haven't heard of these gripping, fun, suspenseful, humorous, violent, smart, thought-provoking (depending on which series you are talking about) dramas, Facebook makes sure I get updated on my friends' sofa-bound activities. As tempting as these tv series are, I am careful not to get sucked into it all. Because I know how easy they can get me hooked and there is no turning back once I eat drink sleep these addictives. For each season of a series, 13 straight hours would be spent glued to the small screen. Multiply that to say 5 seasons of it, that's 65 hours of my life. I wouldn't exactly call that time wasted. Who doesn't need some entertainment every now and then to spice up our mundane daily routine? But I can certainly use those hours to write and read. In case you don't know, I am making up for lost time.

That being said, I am only human and I am weak. I couldn't resist the temptation any longer and finally succumbed to Sherlock. I will not go on and on about the pure joy of watching this critically acclaimed series. You can find out by yourself if I have piqued your curiosity. Just be warned that you might be enticed to watch it all over again if you are a sucker for posh English accent and dry humour like me.

The pure joy had to be marred however by a lurking companion while I was devouring Sherlock (pun intended), namely, guiltiness. Guilty because I was spending precious time away from writing and reading. Then I reasoned this self-inflicted remorse makes the respite all the more bitter-sweet. Furthermore, with 3 episodes per season, not much time is being wasted, really. That got rid of my demon. I am amazed, yet again, at my super ability to romantise things too positively. Hehe.

The dormant volcano of drama-watching will not and cannot stay inactive forever.

 

Temporal insomnia trivia

Do you know a cup of espresso contains a whopping 80 to 150mg of caffeine? Just about right in causing insomnia.

According to the Wikipedia, there is no strong evidence that a full moon can lead to insomnia. Despite that, many still believe the magnetic pull of the moon affects our moods and increases brain activity, very effective in ruining a good night's sleep.

Although a midday shut-eye can improve memory function and lower blood pressure, the quick fix might reduce our nighttime sleep drive.

So next time before you gulp down that aromatic black brew, look out of the window and double check if the moon is bright and full. I didn't. That's why I am writing and dump linking this post at 4 o'clock in the morning, with the birds already twittering outside.

Photo credit: here

Yes, me time is a big deal

I realize I rarely write about the little one on this blog. Whether it is a conscious or unintentional effort, I cannot tell. Considering that I spend the better part of my days with her, the few meager hours I have to myself after she meets her sandman are therefore particularly precious in my eyes. That feeling is probably more apparent here because it seems that I rant about everything under the sun except the love (loves, in case the man reads this) of my life. Unwittingly, this space serves as a stress outlet where I can be utterly self-centered and self-seeking without a tinge of guilt or shame.

Likewise, it is just as important that I steal away every now and then for a much-needed breather, either with the girls or on my own to preserve my sanity. As much as I love my little treasure with all my heart, I am aware that honoring me and my interests is essential for my mental health. I become more balanced and more patient. Yes, this sounds like a selfish mother but I am not built to be a superwoman. I remember asking a girlfriend why not enroll her kids for the everyday program in the daycare instead of the present two-days per week program. Her reply 'what would I do without my kids?' struck me silent. Clearly, she is a selfless mom and I admire and respect her for that. Yet, I do not strive to be someone whom I am not.

The man's recent weekend trip with the boys prompted me to sound him out if I should do the same. I am not so worried about his reply which was some form of a chuckle. Whether it's a yes or no, I have yet to find out. The fact that I am more concerned if I could enjoy a girlie trip, without the thought that things will fall apart at home in my absence and if the little miss demanding can handle that, is validation that a longer me-time is out of question for the now.

Or perhaps I should just learn how to let go.

 

 

Another evidence of Bill Watterson's wit

This was in my inbox when I was running against time to meet a deadline of an article. A dose of humour is always welcome when one is in a panic mode.

Photo credit: here

 

Converse shoes have to be scruffy

I can't stand a pair of new crisp white converse which I bought in Singapore last September. I have yet to begin the arduous process of breaking in the shoes because they are so embarrassingly clean and dazzling that I need a pair of sunnies to deflect the glare. And I got self-conscious the few times I worn them. It's a vicious cycle, I know. So when it was pouring one day, I put them (the shoes, not the sunnies) out in the open just so they could drink in the elements. One of my ongoing attempts to achieve the used-rugged-look without wearing them. Let's just say I have a long way to go.

Apparently Converse has come up with a Well Worn collection, a new line of sneakers with dirty and broke-in shoes, designed especially for people like me!

Photo credit: here

 

Books Music Write

Procrastination is the thief of time.

What am I waiting for? Inpsirations? They hardly come by these days. Why can't I stop dragging my feet and get started on writing?

Don't make excuses. There is no such thing as a writer's block. I either write or I am simply lazy.

I love my sleep. A power nap gives me more energy to deal with the tasks of the day but when I oversleep, the long sleep would spin cobwebs in the head which keeps me groggy all day. As the saying goes, 'If you want your dreams to come true, don't oversleep.' Don't let the sloth monster get to me!

Read a book, for goodness sake! Not some Facebook updates or gossip news which though entertaining, aren't exactly helpful in nourishing my mind.

Stop wandering off to those online shops and please unsubscribe from their newsletters. I can only wear that many pairs of trousers and shoes. And it's not as if I have dates everyday. No, fetching the little one from the kindergarten doesn't count. For it is only 5 minutes walk which doesn't exactly call for dressing up. It's their business when the mommies like to flaunt their fashion sense. Some feel good about wearing the latest trend everyday but it is not for me. I am way past that. Comfort and minimalism work best for me these days.

Do listen to music again. New music please, since I am at it. I have literally forgotten the intense pleasure and joy good songs can bring me. Some songs are capable of stirring up such emotions in me that I have goosebumps all over and I would even cry. I don't even know most of the songs on radio these days. Okay, I am a music snob and am a hater of commercialized songs written solely for the mass appeal but that's not the point. Our brains crave music. Why and when I stopped listening to music is beyond me. I better feed my soul asap before it dries up like a well.

Off to buy some new songs! Ha Ha!

 

A Tiger in the Kitchen

I have never heard of the book, A Tiger in the Kitchen, before and when someone like the ex-editor of POSKOD recommended that I read the book, I know I just had to get it and quickly devour the pages. I have yet to devour it till the last page, I am only halfway through. Reading the book is a torture however. On my stomach, that is. The way the author, Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan, describes the dishes both her grandmothers and aunties cooked, makes my tummy rumble each time I flip the pages. I can almost smell and taste the food she writes about. A memoir of her quest on learning to cook the food she grew up with and reconnecting with her Singapore heritage, it is a story every homesick Singaporean should read. The quote in the book by Calvin Trillin on Singaporeans cannot be truer: 'Culinarily, they are among the most homesick people I have ever met.' Even Cheryl herself admits, 'When it comes to Singapore, I miss the food first, and then my family.' That just about hits the nail on the head and partly the reason why I wrote I am what I cook.

Now, some might think I got my inspiration for the article from this book. I wish I could say I did because the article would be far more polished than the current one, given that the book is written by an established writer. The accusation, if any, is not unwelcome though, flattering even. For I can see the similarities: the unwillingness to enter the kitchen at a young age, the rebellious streak, living overseas and suffering from homesickness while developing a yearning to define who we are by learning to cook our childhood food and the cuisine from the country where we are based now.

At the same time, I am thankful that I didn't know about the book earlier. Her story and her words would have impressed and influenced me far too much that I wouldn't be able to find my own voice in my own article. With the book as a source of reference, the article might eventually become an art form of plagiarism, not unlike The Assassin of the Secrets.

Shouldn't I be glad that I am not voracious reader? :)

Published!

Ever since the move to Germany, I have been embarking on a journey of learning. A journey of Iearning a new language, how to cook, swim, write, and how to drive again. No one knows if I would be picking up these skills if I were still living in my comfort zone, namely my beloved Singapore. My guess is most probably not. I would be too contented and comfortable that I wouldn't have the courage to get out of the rut to venture. Being in a new country must have given me the liberty and independence to start all over again.

To be able to discover my passion of writing through blogging and subsequently listen to the burning desire to do more in this department is a blessing. A blessing to not let fear hold me back and for me to work towards my dreams. One step closer to my dreams is a recently published article about my relationship with food and homesickness while living abroad. It is a topic which I have been wanting to write about for a long time but I am the queen of procrastination. I finally put my foot down and began to work on it. Upon completion, I submitted it and waited in agony for two long weeks. The reply finally came that it would be published on POSKOD and I couldn't believe my eyes for a few seconds. I was stoked! I wanted to scream, jump and dance! I wanted to tell the whole world about it! I was beyond words! (Okay, enough of exclamation marks)

There might be some who think it's no big deal but there are many more people out there who know it is a big deal to me and who are truly glad and happy for me. I am very thankful for them and you know who you are. :)

Here is the link to the article. Go over and have a look. Click like if you like what you read or feel free to leave your comments there. Thanks!

 

The Power of an Understated Outfit

There was a birthday brunch today and the weather forecast was grey and windy. The only concern was not to freeze my gams off so it's a no-brainer to pair the oversized green sweater and black skinny with neon-pink socks and brown brogues. With a couple of armbands thrown in. This is my go-to ensemble of late. Comfortable and tidy, I could wear it everyday.

Then the man remarked, 'Don't you want to dress up?' Rolling my eyes, my very quiet reply was, 'I find this dressy enough!' while he avoided my killer glare. Hahaha...

I didn't feel like fitting in today and his hint that I should slip on a dress was a loud one. Not that I don't like dresses, I love them! But I suspect I am suffering from dress-tights-boots fatigue at the moment. By merging the attire with comfort and plainness, I suppose my brain is signalling me to take a break. I don't intend to abandon my dresses forever. Who knows, I might wear one tomorrow. The point is, keeping it simple is refreshing and assuring. Being dissimilar also provides a sense of freedom to experiment until I come to the epitome called my personal style. In other words, I feel good in my effortless and practical outfit today and therefore I think I must have looked quite alright too. :)

Photo credits: here, here and here