I CAN'T BE WITH SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T READ COMICS

I read the funnies every day.

When I was a kid, my dad had the daily newspaper delivered to his office, and he would bring it back with him (the newspaper, not the office!) when he came home from work. I would pounce on it and immediately flip to the back of the features pullout. The comics were always on the second and third pages from the back; I'd read every single strip, even the ones that were boring and not very funny. In fact, I'd start with those first, and move up to the ones I loved the most. There are only two situations where I like to save the best for last: when I read comics, and when I eat.

Sunday comics were an especial treat, not just because the Sunday strips were longer and came in full colour, but also because dad would buy two different newspapers on Sunday, which meant -- yay -- extra comics! We used to pull out the comics and pass them around. Dad read them too. I don't think Mom did.

These days the comic strips in The Sunday Star and The Sunday Times are pretty dismal. There are fewer strips, for one thing. Even The Star's daily strips are disappointing... but thank God there's the INTERNET!

I'm really sad that Bill Waterson isn't doing Calvin & Hobbes any more. Regardless, it's still one of my everyday MUST READS, including these:

• Zits


• One Big Happy


• Luann


• 9 Chickweed Lane


• Peanuts


• Baby Blues


• Questionable Content


• Rose is Rose

I used to read Dilbert every day too, but even though it's witty, satirical and sarcastic, after awhile the cynicism got to me. It's... kind of depressing, really. Comics, like everything else that I read for entertainment and/or relaxation, have got to be feel-good -- that's why I don't like Garfield either. It's not even funny! -_-"

The great thing about comics is, they remind me not to take life (and myself!) too seriously. And you know, if you're too grown-up and serious and sensible to read comics, then... um... well. I think it's a SIGN.

Goals for the year

I know it's already March, but better late than never...

1. Finish the #%&@£¥! thesis (otherwise #3 to #6 below can't happen!)


2. Complete all Elijah House modules (a prayer counselling course for Christians)


3. Unpack everything & get the house organised (note to self: GIVE AWAY MORE BOOKS)


4. Spruce up the design of my official, professional website (obviously not this one) & get it launched


5. Go away alone for two or three days' holiday (preferably somewhere with a beach)


6. Publish something for Kindle, on Smashwords, or both (I'm thinking a collection of short stories)

I think that's more than enough to go on with, don't you? It's all doable, though. #1 is on track, which makes me very happy, and I've started on #2. The rest will have to be accomplished in the third & fourth quarter of the year, but that's okay :)

I'll get help elsewhere, thank you

A friend is paring down her book collection, so I went over to her place to grab some of the good stuff. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it!) our tastes differ widely -- I like romance for light reading, whereas she recoils in horror at the very thought; she has a fondness for self-help books, whilst I turn up my nose at them in disdain.

I always avoid the "self-improvement" section in bookstores. I think part of it stems from the fact that I feel reading is not the way to go if you really want to solve a problem or rectify a situation. Reading is so... cerebral. It's all about theory. And from experience, I know that having all that theory, that knowledge, can be a sort of security blanket. You try to find out as much as possible about a situation in order to feel that you have some sort of handle on it, but in reality, you're not doing anything about it. Understanding is good, up to a point, but too much of that and it becomes hiding instead.

There's another thing about self-help books: they get my back up. You know that feeling when you're at a social gathering and someone says, "I know just the thing that will help you"? The inner recoil you have when someone walks up to you and gives you totally unsocilited advice, when they don't know the first thing about what you're going through? Well, I sort of feel that way with self-improvement books. Who do you think you are, and what makes you think you are qualified to tell me what to do? I know, it's a bit silly, but I have never liked benevolent "I just wanted to help" types. I suppose I could still read and discard whatever I didn't like or didn't agree with, which brings me to my next point...

I'm terribly skeptical about most self-help books. They're often either filled with generalisations, or advice that worked for the author in the author's particular circumstances. I'm skeptical because the author is trying to say, "My way is the best way" and I don't necessarily believe that there is always one best way for everyone -- I don't believe that his best way will be my best way. The more popular the book, the more skeptical I become. Some people would say that the book's popularity proves there must be something to it, or the masses would not be rushing to buy it. But I've seen fads come and go, watched the mob mentality at work, and found that people jump on the bandwagon all too easily. All it takes, for example, is a celebrity endorsement, and consumers will be out in droves to get the book. No, just because a book is popular, that doesn't mean it's good.

The funny thing is that I'm starting to realise a lot of Christian books are really self-help books. They covertly masquerade under the cover of religiosity or spirituality, but they are always telling you how you should live out your faith, how to know God better or pray more effectively or live a more holy life or whatever. This might explain why I haven't bought a Christian book in years and haven't read one in at least as long. Not that I don't need any help, but the kind of help I need, I don't think books can give me: I have the Bible, I know the right things to do -- it's the doing that's hard!

Inspiration: Story starters

The website Creative Writing Now ran a contest in August last year, asking for "irresistible story openers". The contest ran on Twitter with the hashtag #storyhooks. Some of the entries are so intriguing that I want to write the story to find out what happened! Maybe it'll be the same for you:

From @maryannestahl:

• It looked dead, but I began to back away just in case. [This was the winning entry!]


• Light rushed across the floor of the barn as I opened the doors, ready at last to face the truth.


• Clive had made a lot of promises in his short life, but the one he made the most was the one he could never keep.

From @drzolla:

• She bit with astounding force. Lost, she barely heard her master. Stop! Not him you fool! Her eyes opened in terror.


• She gripped the small gun hidden in her wedding dress.The truth could not come out before she was legally married.

From @UWishUWereMe666:

• My first time. That I remember? There isn't one. My real first time? Around eight, when mom started going out.


• The food makes me tell Her everything. She sits and watches me, asks questions, I can't speak. I wish for death.


• Love. All I wanted. A kind word or compassion. But now I've made up my mind. They'll see what it's like to be cold.


• The red runs down the drain.I wonder how long it will last, to go back to normal. Why did I die my hair scarlet?


• The screams filled my ears. The beauty was magical. The sight entrancing. How I love the smell of blood in the morn.


• She cupped a fragile bud. One twist and it would be torn from all life. Just like humans, Death seldom makes sense


• He smells, paint thinner, human filth. "Your money!" Look him in the eyes, bring my hand, tap the nozzle. "Do it."


• "Perhaps I should have run," I say with a feral smile. "But he was so delicious, John. And he suffered beautifully."


• She smiles at me. "I have no intention to punish you or break you." My hands spasm. "I plan to remake you entirely."

From @staceyface80:

• Incredibly, it was a gypsy standing on the side of the road that finally broke up their marriage.


• The strangest thing she had ever found while cleaning hotel rooms had been a baby. It was a story she loved to tell.


• She had read that the creation of a thousand origami cranes granted the creator one wish. It was time for her to wish


• Joni knew the circus had come back to town when she arrived home and all of her sister's creamic birds were shattered


• That summer she found her mom smoking weed, and the Miracle Worker came to town to lay his hands on the lucky few

From @catpriestess:

• This is it-the the end of it all, she thought.Of course, it wasn’t entirely true-The Nameless would always be around.


• She knew he was dead. She wanted so much to just let go and go with him. But she knew she couldn’t, not just yet.


• The psychic shockwave of intense pain hit her like a freight train. She knew SOMETHING was wrong, but not the cause.


• Heretic. Murderer. Every day, Izra heard them whispering it as she passed.


• It was the last thing she ever said to me. And it will haunt me 'til the day I die.


• Everyone had worried about nuclear war-but it was conventional weapons that did us in.

From @MarliciaF:

• Treat everyone with respect, or one day you may wake to find you are what you despised. I know; it happened to me.


• Pale morning light burned her soul like a laser but left her body whole, her memory clear; that was the final irony.


• The box on the table was an ordinary box, wrapped in common brown paper and addressed to me; it filled me with fear.


• The pocket watch tick-tocked in time with the church steeple clock; unfortunately neither one told the correct time.


• Lightning zig-zagged across the sky, wind filled the sails and lifted the boat to the sea beyond the ominous clouds.


• Adele turned the brittle pages; in time all knowledge would amount to nothing; soon, only the present would matter.


• It’s a dream game variation; you go in first and set the scene; I’ll follow and sow the ideas that will set us free.


• You think you know someone; that you understand them, then they go and do something unexpected, and ruin everything.


• Ansel shut his eyes and plugged his ears; all the colors, shapes and NOISE, disappeared; now maybe he could think.


• Acrobatic white flakes tumbled in the air and coated the ground like snow; except it wasn’t cold and it didn’t melt.


• Heavy security protected the glittering jewel, alarms, guards, dogs, cameras…not a problem; I had it all figured out.


• The car bucked and coughed along the remote desert road, spewing steam from the engine before shuddering to a stop.


• She stood at the window snapping green beans and wondered what it would be like to snap his head from his shoulders.


• Some people might see the cup as half-empty, others might see it as half-full; I see it as a means to an end.


• Learning to dance is simple; just hold your partner, but not too tight, listen to the music, and follow his steps.


• “It’s not difficult to set an effective trap; all you need is the right bait.” Abby grinned. “We have that.”


• The stairs wound around a central post, just like in her dream; and the winking lights danced upon them, beckoning.


• If Scot hadn’t opened the letter, made the call or followed those directions he wouldn’t be here; wherever here was.


• In Maggie’s eyes, Mark could do no wrong. He pulled the switch and hoped she’d understand.


• Don’t make things so complicated; simple is better and truth is stranger than fiction.


• Alex measured the passage of time by the water dripping from the ceiling; it wouldn’t be long now.


• He sauntered through the doorway, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Remember our little problem? It’s been solved.”


• “You’re not one of us, are you?”


• The green man tipped his hat to the lady in white; or did he tip the lady in white to his hat? I’m all befuddled.


• Like it or not, the day was hot, the snow cold and ominous clouds billowed in the sky; perfect—just perfect.


• Everything about the offer screamed ‘too good to be true”, but Ian couldn’t resist.


• Jess knew how to fly without wings, how to crash and burn, and how to rise from the ashes…like the phoenix.


• It was the day of reckoning, of resurrection, and of death.


• Life came easy for Erik. If he wanted something he usually got it. For nothing. This time he didn’t. Or did he?


• It all began with a cracked ceramic cup.


• His veil of lies distorted everything, like smoke on the water; like a funhouse mirror; or a game of telephone.


• It all started when I noticed his ears. [This one made me laugh!]

From @DDms428:

• How does a person go on living after the death of her first born and a husband who is having an affair?


• Inside each being dwells an iniquitous entity, hungering to emerge, and woefully mine has.


• Officer and Mrs. Guy Towers had the ideal life until they adopted twin toddlers, daughters of the evil psychopath, J.


• Rebecca looked tired and desperate as she leaned over the small yet pregnant frame of the young girl.


• Believe me when I tell you, he was no normal preacher…


• This is a long journey that I’m dying to share.


• Last night I went to bed dreaming of my sweet Edward and this morning I woke up to find his lifeless body lying by my side.


• Upon entering and with only the moon glowing, the park looked deserted and empty, but boy was I wrong.<./li>
  
• I know I sound a little bitter, but wouldn’t you if your mother slept with your boyfriend?


• Struggling to keep the waves from sucking me under I could see him on the boat’s deck, smirking at me.

From @retirementstory:

• I've waited forty two years to tell you this story.

From @GreatAbakening:

• We laid under the stars until I saw that scar of hers in the moonlight. She was only nine. My daughter's seen enough.


• He was looking in his grandfather's attic and found a wicker mask, caked in dust and strewn with spider's webbing.


• Amidst petty conversation, she turned to me and asked what time it was. That's when I found that I'd lost my phone.


• Victor Lansing was a specialist at bringing antiques to life with patient restoration and a haunting secret.


• Having left them all behind me, it was harder for me to accept the accident on my own.

From @KyleeAnnHintz:

• Dark sounds filling the empty space in my head, agony struck through my temples like an electric lightning bolt.


• The fear of them finding out, she couldn't take it. Angelina packed her bags and found herself soon staring at Death.


• The call comes in. People fighting. Officers form a barrier to prevent suspects from escaping the bar on 4th Street.

From @RuthEkblom:

• Don cowered under the hedge, trembling, ribs heaving as he fought to control his breathing as silently as possible.

From @franciscangypsy:

• The hunger gnawed at him. Everyone could see that. But what lay behind the hunger no one knew... or really wanted to.


• "Don't be dramatic." "Calm down." How can I when every time I look at you, I see exactly how you're going to die?


• It seems apropos for some reason. That if a wild fire were to occur, it would be somewhere like Dismal Swamp.


• They say Hell burns. I say it's endless winter. It steals your soul, your energy. Numbs you until nothing is left.


• It was almost small enough that she could imagine that she didn't see it. Or that she imagined it.


• His hands shook. Constantly. He blamed the Parkinsons or his nerves. Only his victims knew the truth. Now I do too.


• It's a big question: What if. What if it rained? What if she never came? What if Bill's heart was where it belonged

From @MarilynPullen:

• Lucy really hated being dead

From @Lizzetu:

• I turned the key in the lock and opened the door with a pounding heart.

From @Ipodguy88:

• On his way to bury the bodies, Herbert suddenly remembered he forgot to pick up his mother's birthday cake.

From @ReemaViqar:

• Moonlight gilds the waves to liquid silver;eerie &desolate is the shore with only stepping stones for wandering souls

From @MCMJ:

• Every day when she awoke, Lucy peeked into the living room to make sure her father's corpse was still there.

From @MorningAmbassdr:

• "Go to your window right now, and look carefully at the street below; I'm sure you'll see what I'm talking about."


• Mentally projected slides of my life hovered ghostly in the air, beckoning entry as I sat in the jukebox diner booth.


• Elena remembered the turquoise of the lake that afternoon; shaking the start of it all was not an option.


• Albert, busy gloating over his current strokes of good fortune, did not notice the other entering the hall.


• Their jeep shrunk until it was as miniscule as they were, so it took them a hot day's trek back to its parking space.
• "What you tell me now reminds me of a story told by my folk for ages, in which the hero also bears your name, Sam."


• The remaining particles plummeted while dust drifted down and the wheels of her mind spun, flashing with protocol.

From ‏@lovethejester:

• Cold and disoriented, she stood up out of the snow, still reeling from the spiral plunge she had taken from the sky.

From ‏@MattjOsborne:

• I have accidentally deduced, after years of accidentally deducing, that I am quite strange, indeed.

From ‏@mamafeenix:

• Did I ever tell you about the time my Uncle Troy tried to kill the monkey?

From @dorme99:

• Anna made up her mind. No matter what happened tomorrow, she knew her answer would be “No.”

From @Lisacwilliams01:

• The sounds of jazz music & people shouting for beads form a surreal soundtrack as I fight to regain consciousness.

From @animefan61:

• It had been four days since he had any sleep, but it was necessary to keep moving.

That's it :)  The site doesn't have any other writing contests running at the moment, but you might want to keep an eye on this page just in case.

Reminisces: Thank God that's over

I hated school.

All the way from Standard 1 to Form 5, I hated school. It was not a place of learning to me; it was a place where you were stifled, questions were not welcome, you were to give only the expected answers, and teachers only cared about their students getting As. I wanted the As to make my dad happy, but at the same time I disdained them as trophies of intelligence, because it was clear to me that you didn't need to be smart to get an A; you just needed to have a great memory. So I didn't work hard for them, because I didn't think they were worth it. Not that I didn't work at all; I did enough to be consistently placed within the top 20 or so in the form, and in the end passed SPM with 4As out of 10 subjects. Heh.

It wasn't that I was reluctant to attend school; I never played truant and didn't make excuses to skip classes (although I might have if I'd been sure it would work with my parents!). I attended classes faithfully, and did my homework for the most part. But I felt trapped, and the lessons didn't engage me. No doubt I did have some good teachers, but very few of them were inspiring. In fact, I can hardly recall any of their names now.

I never thought to tell my parents that I hated school. Perhaps I didn't think it would accomplish anything, or I accepted school as something you simply had to do: one of those things that are a fact of life, that can't be fought. But the moment I had a chance, I left. I was glad to get out of the system, so relieved to be able to escape to private college after Form 5. I chose a programme with a system that was the complete antithesis of what I had been through: the Canadian Matriculation Programme, 70% coursework with the last 30% riding on the final exam. And I loved it. I loved the projects with practical applications of theory, the more informal class atmosphere, the discussions where we were encouraged to speak up and contribute ideas. It was fantastic.

Many people have warm memories of their school years and the time spent with friends and classmates, even if they did not enjoy the educational aspect of it. But as a child I was very introverted, bookwormish and a little awkward around people. I did have friends, but we didn't interact a lot outside the classroom. No sleepovers or outings and stuff. I don't have memories of doing anything particularly exciting or interesting: most of the time I was escaping into the pages of a book. (I told you, bookwormish!) Which meant that there was not much to redeem the tedium of being stuck in a system I couldn't stand. I was always being caught for surreptitiously reading novels while the teacher was teaching!

I'm now 34, having graduated from university 12 years ago (goodness, has it been that long?!). Strangely, my dad still harps about the fact that I could have done better in school, had I worked harder. What he doesn't understand is that I didn't see the point of working harder. And you know what? I don't regret it. I can't imagine how my life could possibly have been better had I scored 10A1s. I have pursued my dreams and done what I wanted to do. I have a job I enjoy, that gives me enough money to have a comfortable life. I am, to all intents and purposes, probably considered successful by most. Apparently not by my dad, though. All because I did not get straight As 17 years ago.
 
 
 
This post was partly inspired by this article. The article reminded me of my loathing for our education system. Yes, I am the product of a national school... a former mission school, but for all intents and purposes a national school, nonetheless.

What does this say about me?

Current contents of fridge & freezer:

• 5 varieties of ice-cream


• 2 varieties of cheese


• 3 varieties of mustard


• 4 types of chocolate


• Mayonnaise, dijonnaise & salad cream


• Hotdog relish


• Romaine lettuce


• Leftovers


• Lozenges


• Low-fat milk


• Butter


• Oranges


• Frankfurters/hotdogs


• Baby carrots


• Yoghurt


• Tomato ketchup


• Prunes


• Bacon bits


• Tomatoes


• TimTam biscuits

HMMM.

Literally losing sleep over it

Apparently our bodies' natural sleeping pattern is to sleep for four hours, wake for one or two, then sleep again. That's what the BBC reported recently.

I've read something similar before, although I can't remember where. I normally sleep straight through the night, but I'm wondering if I should experiment with this by trying to sleep at nine and setting my alarm to wake me up at, say, 1:00am, then going back to sleep at 2:00am and finally waking for the day at 6:00am. It would be interesting to see if I'd feel more refreshed when I awake, and more alert throughout the day.

On the other hand, I've been severely sleep-deprived this entire week. A few times I've tried sleeping two hours, like from midnight to 2:00am, then getting up and working on my thesis through the night, and going to work once 7:00am rolls by. It's a crazy way to live. I'm absolutely exhausted and couldn't even sleep in this morning because I was attending a whole-day seminar at Elijah House from 9:00am to 6:00pm. On the plus side, my supervisor thinks I should be able to submit my thesis by May! Finally!