I deflect an arrow
A well meaning arrow
That aims to protect
Me
Its trajectory:
I'm unsure
I bolt to intercept-
Velvet lining
The diamond is unscathed
The diamond does not know
How much do I know?
As much as I have been showered
I drink in felicity
Unpolished
A diamond is but a stone
But I am confident
My diamond is forever
Tuesday, July 22
I couldn't enter the site. That was going to be RM440 down the drain. Not to mention a whole decade's worth of nagging.
How could I mistype my mother's name? I tried a gazillion permutations, to no avail. And there was no password retrieval system. Even if I called to ask if there was, what was I supposed to say? I forgot my mother's name? That was to be the joke of year.
My heart fluttered in its cage like a desperate bird, for I was sure the world was ending.
Wait, my helpline.
"I'm going to die." This I repeated to the person on the other end. Frantic. Pulsing. Dying.
"What's going on? Babe, calm down. Tell me."
So I said, "I'm going to die."
When rationality finally took control, I related my predicament, and was rewarded with an unexpected scolding.
The poor guy thought I had cancer or some terminal illness.
It stung, and there was nothing I could do. I went to bed early that night so I could wake up to make the phone call that would determine my fate.
As it turned out, the site only works with IE. I was using Firefox, not only on my comp, but also William's. Bill Gates must really own America.
From this I learned never to lose my head, or risk being bundled in a straight jacket. And also, for anything, anything at all, there is my helpline, who would, with the perfect balance of patience and kindness, knock some sense into me.
How could I mistype my mother's name? I tried a gazillion permutations, to no avail. And there was no password retrieval system. Even if I called to ask if there was, what was I supposed to say? I forgot my mother's name? That was to be the joke of year.
My heart fluttered in its cage like a desperate bird, for I was sure the world was ending.
Wait, my helpline.
"I'm going to die." This I repeated to the person on the other end. Frantic. Pulsing. Dying.
"What's going on? Babe, calm down. Tell me."
So I said, "I'm going to die."
When rationality finally took control, I related my predicament, and was rewarded with an unexpected scolding.
The poor guy thought I had cancer or some terminal illness.
It stung, and there was nothing I could do. I went to bed early that night so I could wake up to make the phone call that would determine my fate.
As it turned out, the site only works with IE. I was using Firefox, not only on my comp, but also William's. Bill Gates must really own America.
From this I learned never to lose my head, or risk being bundled in a straight jacket. And also, for anything, anything at all, there is my helpline, who would, with the perfect balance of patience and kindness, knock some sense into me.
Wednesday, July 2
How shall I have fun today?
That, for the past few weeks, was the only thought that entered my mind each morning. To enjoy myself, and to contribute to the foreign country's GDP, were my missions.
But the once-in-a-lifetime trip turned out to be more, much more than that.
According to Mooi, sharing a holiday is like having a microscopic view into the travel partner's character and personality. I cannot agree more.
I expected a hassle free holiday, short trips with different friends. The final leg of the journey- I wasn't so sure. My, was I surprised.
Did I harbour too high hopes because of our past encounters? I thought of how good we were together last year. Perhaps I overlooked some tell-tale signs? It was as if being in a different continent made you a different person. Halfway through I felt gratified that I did not travel as initially planned.
I suppose I was affected by it to a limited extent. Thankfully the remaining company and the awesome sights more than made up for the disappointment.
But Spain, ah, Spain was where the real fun started!
If my brain were spread out like a mind map, one would see clearly that Gaudi and "mini-ducks", and of course, Sweden, will always be directly associated with you. I knew you were easygoing (I'd like to think that I am quite too, and that I didn't pester you into visiting places that did not interest you), but we hit off with a solid note, didn't we?
While I basked in the warmth of friendship that Spain provided in abundance, Germany manifested the special bond between family members.
The genuine hospitality is an infinite times better than that found in any 6-star hotel. I felt so comfortable, and with gentle coaxing from the various beers you introduced to me, our conversation flowed like never before. I discovered what I've been missing, and that has only made me want to know you better. I'm glad I could spend some time with you, and I quietly believe that wherever the tides bring us, we will remain as we are: great cousins.
Now, time for my Oscar moment:
This trip would have been impossible without the support of Mum and Dad. Thank you for financing this incredibly expensive holiday of mine. And thank you Mum for having a sleepless night worrying for me when my luggage was "lost in transportation".
Thank you too, Fatty, for the countless e-mails. Words fail to explain how keeping in contact with you brightened my days.
Thank you to all the friendly and helpful people I've met throughout my trip. Every little bit succeeded in making the small yellow-skinned tourist a happy one.
And lastly, thank you to all my travel pals. I shed some old skin, took in a lot of exciting sights and knowledge, and discarded some excess baggage.
I had immense fun.
That, for the past few weeks, was the only thought that entered my mind each morning. To enjoy myself, and to contribute to the foreign country's GDP, were my missions.
But the once-in-a-lifetime trip turned out to be more, much more than that.
According to Mooi, sharing a holiday is like having a microscopic view into the travel partner's character and personality. I cannot agree more.
I expected a hassle free holiday, short trips with different friends. The final leg of the journey- I wasn't so sure. My, was I surprised.
Did I harbour too high hopes because of our past encounters? I thought of how good we were together last year. Perhaps I overlooked some tell-tale signs? It was as if being in a different continent made you a different person. Halfway through I felt gratified that I did not travel as initially planned.
I suppose I was affected by it to a limited extent. Thankfully the remaining company and the awesome sights more than made up for the disappointment.
But Spain, ah, Spain was where the real fun started!
If my brain were spread out like a mind map, one would see clearly that Gaudi and "mini-ducks", and of course, Sweden, will always be directly associated with you. I knew you were easygoing (I'd like to think that I am quite too, and that I didn't pester you into visiting places that did not interest you), but we hit off with a solid note, didn't we?
While I basked in the warmth of friendship that Spain provided in abundance, Germany manifested the special bond between family members.
The genuine hospitality is an infinite times better than that found in any 6-star hotel. I felt so comfortable, and with gentle coaxing from the various beers you introduced to me, our conversation flowed like never before. I discovered what I've been missing, and that has only made me want to know you better. I'm glad I could spend some time with you, and I quietly believe that wherever the tides bring us, we will remain as we are: great cousins.
Now, time for my Oscar moment:
This trip would have been impossible without the support of Mum and Dad. Thank you for financing this incredibly expensive holiday of mine. And thank you Mum for having a sleepless night worrying for me when my luggage was "lost in transportation".
Thank you too, Fatty, for the countless e-mails. Words fail to explain how keeping in contact with you brightened my days.
Thank you to all the friendly and helpful people I've met throughout my trip. Every little bit succeeded in making the small yellow-skinned tourist a happy one.
And lastly, thank you to all my travel pals. I shed some old skin, took in a lot of exciting sights and knowledge, and discarded some excess baggage.
I had immense fun.
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