Met up with an old friend for coffee on the last day of 2018. We both came to realisation that it has been 20 years since we last met. We were classmates in 1996, then we were in different classes, two years later after graduating from primary school, we went to different school. And lastly, we went on the different colleges and different career path, living in different cities. Honestly, my memory of our friendship was very vague because we were just a couple of 10-year-old kids back then, doing silly things as kids. It is so for all my other friendship built during primary school years.

I have to attribute our reunion to the advancement of technology and social media. Without Facebook or Instagram, we wouldn't have reconnected after we had parted ways, and distance between us is literal considering the fact that she was an ex-air stewardess.

I looked at both of us, it's amazing how we still can easily recognise each other across the room after 20 years of growing up. We caught up and filled the gap. So much has happened, to us, to our common friends. I joked and said I was glad this reunion did not turn into selling session for some products or whatnots.

It feels like I got a new friend, even though she is an old friend. During the 20 years, we both met some friends along the way and shaped us who we are today, and now, we share hobbies and relate certain life experiences together.

I believe everything has its timing, and this, is a perfect example where friendship blossom when the timing is right. 

To many more years of friendship to come!

6 years

Some medical professions have to sit for an exam to acquire license to practise. My profession does not have such license in my country at the moment, hence there is not such exam for us.

It is not uncommon to hear that someone had dreams where they missed or were late for exam they took years ago, or for future exam.

I just woke up from a dream that I was terrified of my professional exam, for a profession I've been working for the past 6 years.

Interesting Title

I don't usually read food blog. I go to these sites for updates of new restaurants in town and mostly (1) just to look at the pictures and (2) the address and business hour.

I saw this article about a new cafe I've noticed. At the exact shoplot, the previous business was also a cafe, and disappointed to say the former cafe served really lousy food. The new cafe is known for the similar thing the previous cafe was: bright beautiful interior, cool spacious balcony seating, interesting food presentation.

Hence, I'm quite skeptical about the new cafe. I wanted to know if the food in new cafe taste the same. I read every word of the article. Fantastic grammar and fancy words, but they're all just fluff: they serve distinctive french toast, with [different types of fruits].

You know who else serves -distinctive- food? The previous cafe.

I left a message at the blog to ask for elaboration on their food. The author replied "The dishes all had interesting ingredients added to them that made them taste a bit different than expected."

I can't help but to read it in sarcastic tone. Sure, I can put wasabi in french toast and make it taste -very- different than expected, too.

I read through the article many times, but no, it's mostly neutral adjectives and list of ingredients used in the dishes but not the description of how the food turn out to be. It's either someone is trying to be polite or this is what food blogs are becoming: to cover as many diners as possible to draw readership, put together a few words just to fill the space.

I know this will have readers wondering about the food and just have to give it a try.

But that also means less credibility for the food blog because every diners will be mentioned, everything sounds interesting at their site. At the end, no one is distinctive.

Of course, I do still see good food articles around, and it's fun to read them. But food blogs that give me half-hearted work, I guess I can understand why you're not enthusiasted about the diner you cover. 

How's your day?

Yes, I miss you. I want to hear from you. But I just hope you'll also put in effort to keep the conversation going. Or at least, ask me about my day. Perhaps you just don't care afterall.

There seems to be trend where people want to be seen "keeping their cool" and just be too nonchalant to be bothered when they don't hear from close friends, like it's absolutely a grown-up thing to take it easy. Because, you know, everyone is busy, everyone has their life going on and kicking. And if you're bothered by the absent of some messages, "you need to get a life."

Well, my life is to stay in touch and to hear about old friends and to meet up when they're back in town. I am busy with my life but I miss you despite of that, not only when I'm all alone at 3am in the morning.

;(

God clothes you.

“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.”

                                                                                                                                    [Matthew 6:28-31]

This hit me today when I looked back at the flower photos I took recently. The time frame between a flower blossoms and withers is very short. They’re only beautiful for a fleeting moment. Yet God made them with much care, each one of them, down to minute details. I still do not use filter for any of the photos posted. The colours are just amazing. Know that our lives are in God’s hand too. Do not worry.

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day is enough trouble of its own.”

                                                                                                                                    [Matthew 6:32-34]

It's never too late to start kickboxing!

So after almost 3 years of not seriously train in kickboxing, I gave the punching bag a go at the gym. Boy, I miss those feeling! And every punch follows were harder and stronger. For a moment my mind was fully focused on thrusting the perfect punch, bam bam bam. It took my mind off things that bothers me. It's such an addictive feeling. I'm sure my techniques are rusty now. But my previous kickboxing trainings do help me to regain the moves easily. Picking up kickboxing from certified trainers is money well spent.

Text me any time

Of all the time I want to retreat from any human being and have my own space, the urge to talk to people such as finally using a phone for its original purpose of invention and call a friend up, has to emerge during the time I lost my voice due to cough and sore throat.

But just so you know, I'm still fine if we can text. "I may be busy, but you can text me any time." is something that always makes my day. It means I'm not a bother. I know everyone is busy and has their own life to carry on. But it doesn't mean they're selfish or don't care about the people around them. Because I do have my own time to reply a message or to pick up a call, and I do not like anyone asking me question such as why didn't I reply a call or a message. In fact, it is even more important to discuss issues that holds more weight at the right time - when we're not going to be interrupted, when we've had a better idea what to say, when we're in the right state of mind to say things that are graceful, not hurtful.

I need people to understand if I ever say "It's ok." when they cannot spend time with me, I mean it. I'd rather have an uninterrupted session with a person than meeting up just for the sake of a quick touch-and-go kind of catch up. Of course, there are exceptions. When time is really merciless, we''ll just have to make do with what we have. I just hope people don't underestimate my love for them.

The reason that I am happiest when I am stationed at my Emergency Room satellite lab is because I can have peace of mind when I cleared up all the work and didn't have to make small talks with other colleagues, as I'll be the only lab staff there. However, there are times when the ER nurses will suddenly walked in, and poured out their dissatisfaction about certain things at work, and left. There's no burden on me because they aren't looking for counselling. And not so much for words of comfort, either. I just need to listen, and nod with an understanding face.

I like it when people want to talk to me. So I don't have to figure out when is the suitable time to talk to them. And I don't have to worry about whether I'm being clingy or if whatever I say is too much for them to handle. And I've run out of topic for small talks, even with the people I care so much that I'd rather do small talks than not hear from them. I just hope they'll put effort in keeping the conversation going. But I guess. well, if they want to talk to me, they would. I really don't want to ask that insecure question of Why don't you ever text or call me. Of course, I do think about stuff like that. And it bothers me. But I don't want to be a bother. I myself hate answering that question, I certainly do not want to make my friends go through that.

You may think I need to get a life and then I'll stop thinking why certain people don't contact me. But what is life if friends I call friends don't keep in touch? What is getting a life but not making connection with people I care?

If you have never figured out why people with depression commit suicide, that may mean you've never had depression, not even the milder kind of depression. Because only in depression, committing suicide is the only, most logical thing to do, to end all miseries, (hopefully) once and for all. I once thought only weaklings and cowards commit suicide because they dare not face the world. But in fact, it's the other way round. One needs so much courage to kill oneself. And I am the coward now. I'm glad I am one. Because every time after I walk out from the grasp of depression, I'm relieved it is still great to be alive and life is still interesting. Only during depression I couldn't see all that, and I need to stay in touch with people who are more alive than I am, to remind me the beauty of life, and to hang on till I walk out alive, again. Hence, it's a great deal for me to keep in touch with people, to be able to text friends any time.

No I'm not thinking about killing myself right now, and this post wasn't intended to end morbidly at the first place. The original idea was to only to write out what's in the first paragraph. Well, I guess it's time to stop, and go watch a movie online.

p/s: I just watched Black Swan. It is extremely disturbing indeed. Perfect. But disturbing.

Love in a cup

After a very long time, I guess it could easily has been a year, I asked for a cup of coffe with teddy bear coffee art on it, specifically wanted Mr. Chef and Mr. Chef only to do it.

There was once I let another barista on duty to make one for me. He failed it so badly that I didn't want to take a picture of it. Of course, I was nonchalant about it and drank it anyway, making a mental note to only let Mr. Chef make my coffee art in future.

So today I finally managed to get Mr. Chef's time. I let the waitress who took my order to ask if Mr. Chef's available before I placed my order. When he came out 20 minutes later and ready at the coffee machine, waiving at me. I sprung up from my seat, couldn't hide the silly smile on my face. Mr. Chef told me he has not been making coffee for a long, long time, too, and he apologised in advance. 

"Is it on mocha or latte?"

"Hmm.. You usually ordered mocha. :) "

:) He remembers. And he made sure the bear was smiling, the way I like it.

Because coffee art is very much an art, and there is no art without love.

How do you know your restaurant is failing?

It is extremely congested in the area where your outlet is, and it usually is. You can no longer say your diner is at a location where finding parking is a nightmare because the other restaurants down the street, next street and a block away, all suffer the same fate. But, the other restaurants are packed with customers, people are waiting to be seated, while while yours are empty and quiet. Perhaps that's the reason why that part of town is happening - patrons from other towns come to these restaurants.

You also can't give the excuse that your place is newly established, hence yet to draw customers. It might be partly true. However these people are just looking for a place to hang out, if they'd rather wait for tables at a crowded cafe than not having to at yours, then there is a problem.

Another hint is, if Cher Linn doesn't like it. There are restaurants where I go in with a hungry stomach, hungry enough to eat just about anything irrationally, yet I walk out without a word. Because it's better to keep quiet than say something cruel, such as "You should fold your business." 

Don't get me wrong. I am for restaurants that want to improve themselves over time. It doesn't mean the whole world hates you just because Cher Linn is not fond about you. But my scale is pretty accurate. The restaurants that I am not impressed with, they'll barely survive. Every customer that walks in later are only prolonging the drag to the end of their business. The restaurants that I find favor in, somehow they will attract their own loyal patrons, and many more, sometimes even to my frustration that it's no longer my place to chill. But yeah, words got out and people from other towns will come to visit them.

I know a lot of hardwork has been put into establishing an eatery, and I should not pass the death sentence lightly. That's why I will not be a food critique. There's too much pressure to be truthful and gentle at the same time.

This writing is my own observation, about myself.

What do I do with all I need to say?

It is true that people may not remember what you said, but they will remember how you made them feel. Caitlin & Will - Address In The Stars



A dear aunty from church has gone home to be with the Lord on Sunday. It was not something that never crossed my mind, to be honest. In fact, it was what I feared and thought about a lot the moment I saw her first tumour marker result with my own eyes, about a year ago. I tried to be strong and optimistic and I told her it's going to be OK. We all have heard of miracles and people who battled with cancer and won. But she told me calmly that she knew what was going on and it was not really OK. And I silently cried when I heard an experienced surgeon in my hospital decided he was unable to remove any tumour from her because it's spread expansively.



But she fought on, and she fought bravely. She cut her hair way before she's going to lose them to chemotherapy. Her faith in the Lord never waver. In and out of hospital, cycles after cycles of chemotherapy. When she was about to win over cancer, when I was excited to see miracles with my own eyes, the disease relapsed, and it got much worse. It's amazing that she still never question the Lord why this happened to her, when she was only starting to enjoy being a grandmother. After losing her husband to cancer 20 years ago, she raised up her four children single-handedly. All has grown up to be God-fearing, faithful children of God.



She's a great counsellor. In fact, she was a certified one. She listened with her heart and advised with compassion and love. She passed no judgement, and she made time for troubled souls. She had great strength and faith. She lived life passionately and loves adventures. She was warm and joyful and witty and smart and humble and kind. She was inspiring and wise and caring. I didn't know her very long. But throughout the time I had with her, she was like a mother to me. It ached me deeply to see her going through all these. But I was comforted to see that she remained strong spiritually, and she never lose herself despite facing a life-challenging condition.



That day I went to visit her in the hospital. I bought a bouquet of African daisy with me. African daisy always has strong, bright colours. I think they are reserved for fighters like her. If life is a battle, she fought it beautifully. That's the first time I know the name for the flower. It will always reminds me of her.



I guess a proper closure does help to move on. I managed to see her in person about a month ago. It was a very short meeting, and an impromptu one, too. But during that visit, I have her all to myself, and listened to her talk, and she never stop smiling. I guess you know when you're with an angel. I took some time to grief about her passing, and as the church grief together, it gives me healing, too, albeit slowly.



Lord, I miss her. I can't for the day to come to meet her again.