Till we meet again, Elle

My dear Elle has passed away yesterday.

She was weak on Sunday evening, and her cough turned persistent on Monday night, and she was panting away throughout the night. We decided to bring her to the vet after work on Tuesday, but, when we returned home after work on Tuesday, she was already dead.

She was laying near the door, and she was still warm and soft, which showed she had not died all that long before we came back.

What a faithful, loyal and loving companion she was – waiting for our return but it was not meant to be.

My eyes are swollen from all that crying but I am still affected.

Everything triggered memories of her – a leash, a harness, a bowl, her medication. What is worst, I am still not used to not having a dog shadowing me.

I think if I feel this way, Muffin would feel worse.

Muffin is the other Chihuahua, which we love just as dearly.

They are companion dogs, and Muffin has never been alone in the house before. There was always Elle around.

Thank you Elle for the years of love, loyalty and companionship. I know you have crossed the rainbow bridge and we will all meet again one day.



I was recently pressured to add a relative to my Facebook account, by none other than the relative herself.

It was during Chinese New Year, and through one of the gatherings, she found out I have an active account and after she got my number, called me and asked me to add her in.

I did, to my detriment.

I should have just pretended to agree but conveniently forgot.

She may not have many “friends”, but she sure made sure those few she had did not forget about her, or her riches.

You see, this relative of mine is a homemaker, but somehow her husband must be a goldminer or something, because even though he is a regular employee who got his degree only recently, he seemed to be doing pretty well. By “pretty well”, I mean he (aka they) has at least 2 private properties under his (or their) name/s, and 2 cars. Oh well, call it sour grapes if you like, I detest the way she updated her status ending with “district 9” or insinuations of the said district.

It would start off with “I love my new home! Birds chirping, greenery all around, and in district 9!” or “Traffic jam in my residential vicinity (and posting a picture of the Orchard Road Presbyterian Church)” or the sorts.

I think I would let her go at it until I am totally sick of it. Then I shall do the necessary. That is what the “delete” button is for, isn’t it?

What three wishes?

Recently I heard that a church (not my church) has asked its members to think of three wishes and go to church on new year’s day to get prayed for, so that the wishes would come true.

I never knew God was a genie in a magic lamp.

He is omnipotent, omnipresent, the Alpha and Omega, and nothing is impossible with Him. It is as easy as snapping a finger for Him to fulfil our whims and fancies, but frankly, is that good for us? And what end or purpose will that serve? Boost our ego?

In my personal opinion, I find the implications of what the church did was not very right.

Christians should be have the resilience of faith in God, come what may.

And see God for the Almighty One He is. Not a genie from a magic lamp to fulfil our every wish, whim and fancy.

A cousin even posted this on her facebook  “Come to church with 3 wishes. They will be fulfilled.”

How misleading!

A swollen lymph node made me think I have cancer

I was just minding my own business yesterday when I felt there was lump right under my chin.

The first thought that came to my mind was – has my double chin ballooned to that size overnight?!

But then I felt it, rubbed it and peered into the mirror several times (hmmm, perhaps that was an understatement….but I think I did not try touching or looking at it for more than 50 times….maybe 40+ times, but definitely under 50).

By the end of the day, the small lump has hardened and grown. I am convinced by then this is no double chin. It could be a tumour! Perhaps even a cancerous one! Oh no! I am still so young! What am I to do if this is really cancerous?

Feeling disconcerted, I decided to go to the doctor for a good check.

The doctor listened to my ranting with the patience of Mother Teresa, and he was nodding his head the whole time, but made no attempt to touch the tumour.

I was the one who asked him, “Don’t you have to examine it?” and he said, “This is an infection of the lymph node.”  OW! Am I going to die?

He then explained the diagnosis, symptoms, and treatment of a swollen lymph node to me at length, and I am shamed by my own ignorance.  I am not going to die after all, and after I complete the dosage of antibiotics, I should continue to live.

And since I had a bad breakout just days before, I also shamelessly asked for some acne cream to treat those spots.

Now my doctor is no ordinary general practitioner. He is the best-looking doctor you will ever see. And kind-hearted to boot. With the patience of a saint. For single ladies who are looking for a tall, handsome, kind-hearted, patient man who is a doctor, sorry. He is happily married with three kids.


Most people I know hate the rain. Or at least, the inconveniences a rainy day brings with it.

I don’t. I love and thrive on rainy days. My mood is lifted whenever I see an overcast sky and I dare say I am exuberant when the rain pours down – the heavier the better!

This weekend is one of those days. It was gloomy for most of Sat and Sun, this being the monsoon season and all, and boy oh boy, did it rain – cats and dogs too.

I had planned a picnic at the grounds of Botanical Gardens in the late afternoon of Saturday and when it started to pour at 4pm, my spirits were lifted even though it was raining heavily. Yes, it could disrupt my picnicking plans, but hey, I can always seek a sheltered area for that. Nothing could dampen my lifted mood!

We proceeded despite the rain and the downpour had become a drizzle when we reached the gardens.

We found a perfect sheltered spot near the lake, and laid out our mats and picnic basket.

My sister had prepared sandwiches and sausages and a bag of organic chips with a salsa dip. I brought a bottle of sweet wine and a flask of hot tea, which was perfect for the rainy weather.

By the time we settled down, even the drizzle had stopped and the sun was out again. Can’t say I wasn’t a tad disappointed. I was actually having fun!

The Sunday morning was a harsh, hot, sunny day, but I was hopeful when I saw the first dark cloud which rapidly grew bigger and darker. Before I knew it, it was pouring!

And poured it did! I made myself a cup of hot ginger tea, propped up some pillows behind me on the couch and laid down with a book, with the rain pelting heavily onto the ground outside. This is life!


For the past 35 years, 11 Nov came and went by without much fanfare. The attention received this year was based purely on merit of the many 1’s, 6 in all.

I’d know – my husband’s birthday fall on 11 Nov. For every year before this, 11 Nov came and went without any more of a mention other than on the newspapers’ date of print.

It was reported in the papers this morning, the day after the mayhem of more than 500 couples tying the knot and many parents inducing births on 11 Nov 2011, that I wonder what the fuss is all about.

One of the couples getting hitched said they had an 11-yr age gap between them, and wanted to celebrate that by getting married on 11.11.11. My eyes rolled.

Then another couple who were interviewed said that 11.11.11 is an easy date to remember. Well, where wedding anniversaries are concerned, it is better that way for the wives, i.e. give the husbands no excuse at all.

Clever of the bride, yes, but too little faith in her husband-to-be, it seems. Has he such a bad memory that he cannot even remember his own wedding anniversary? Or perhaps it didn’t mean enough to him to make an effort to remember? My eyes rolled to the top of my head.

Parents, on the other hand, have some interesting things to say too.

One beaming father wanted his newborn son to be ahead of his peers in life, to come first in whatever he does. What bodes better than a birth-date that denotes exactly that? If an induced birth can give that edge, why not? Poor kid, I thought. With parental expectations at such heights before he is even born, I feel so very sorry for him. My eyes rolled to the top of my head and stuck there.

Although I think this is cheesiness at its peak, cliches do stick in the mind, don’t they?

Name Dropper

How do you tell if someone is insecure, and perhaps coupled with a low self esteem?

I have a colleague, A, who has to name-drop under every circumstance. And in many instances, the name that was dropped would not raise any eyebrows at all.

A: I had a tummy-ache. Think I ate something wrong.
Me: What did you eat?
A: I went to a Japanese restaurant X, which was located at ABC Mall, and we ordered the most fantastic bento ever!

Now knowing A, she would call a coffee-shop a restaurant if they so much as take her order at the table and serve it to her.

Then I complimented a fellow colleague on a nice dress on another occasion.

A butted in and claimed that she has the same dress in another colour and that she got it from Fox at an exorbitant price.

Who cares if she has the same dress?! And nobody is asking where she got the dress from. And Fox, exorbitant? The apparel there are mostly under $50.

Moreover, Fox is not the type of brand I would want to be name dropping all over the place. Fox has the same stature as Cotton On, Giordano and Hang Ten as far as I am concerned – shops from which I buy cheap tees to sleep in. I have to quantify that I have nothing against Fox. It is a cool, nice, mass market brand.

You’ve got to admit name-dropping is an art. It is supposed to be a classy act where there isn’t any blatant, obvious, in-your-face names at every punctuation, and especially not non-upmarket names. For those who don’t know any better, I think the best thing to do is to just ZIP it.