Friday, August 21, 2009

PPact 2012 Revisited

Trust me when I say I (sort of) get it why Kyoto Protocol founders might be a bit ambitious when they first formulated the scheme and how now, 3 years before it expires, they're rushing up to do their part because time is running out.

Today it's 3 years before PPact2012 expires and I'm still nowhere near what I vowed to be. I got distracted. A change is timely, if that summer I still plan to meet the other 8 and be able to hold my own. An engineer, a concert pianist, an artist, three businesswomen, a fashion designer, and... Me. In our twenties in Paris. Toasting our successes with a triumphant reunion. Ka-chink.

6 years ago, sitting around in our Crescent Girls' uniforms with Hershey pies in Orchard Burger King, it sounded carpe diem-ish and inspirational and glamorously romantic. Now it makes me feel like screaming, "Yes, I'm seizing the day! Seizing the bloody day I tell you! Seizing!" Tempus fugit indeed. Well I've got about a thousand days to prepare myself for D-Day and the clock is ticking.

Sunday, August 16, 2009


Came across a quote yesterday, "on peut rire de tout mais pas avec tout le monde", i.e. we can laugh at everything but not with everyone. Some days I find that very true.

Things that I initially find amusing, ridiculous, or out-of-this-world are, well, the only reality for others. The butt of these jokes are, more often than not, real life subjects, which makes me feel rather guilty and unfeeling sometimes. I wouldn't be laughing if I was in their shoes, or even just standing next to them. I know, I know, I sound like a goody two-shoes, but I'll say what I want here and the world be damned. Particularly when it comes to unflattering rumours concerning people I know, I hate being in a position where I get pulled in and curiosity gets the better of me. I'd look back at the memory and find myself repulsive.

But then I normally swallow the lump in my throat and shrug it off. Then go back to being (or trying to be) a good sport. You can't seem too sensitive about things, I suppose. A sense of humor is an essential must-have in most dinners/lunches/brunches, much like a pair of socks when a guy's wearing loafers. You don't really pay much attention to them but if someone has none you'd realize that something's a bit off. Like an alarm would go off somewhere indicating the unwelcomed presence of a spoilsport. Breakfasts are much more forgiving, you can always feign drowsiness or attribute your disinterest to lack of sleep.

I don't know why I care about such things, really. Sometimes I can be disgustingly self-conscious. Oh well. *yawn* I've successfully bored myself to drowsiness. Over and out.