I've had my share of rocky relationships but sadly, I realized that my worst one is the relationship that I cannot sever, it's a bloodline.
I discovered this during one of those long drives, the ones that let my subconscious mind take the wheel (safely, I have to add!) and my conscious mind just starts whirring away at the thoughts that pop into my head at random.
I was thinking about how the words we speak has the power of building people up or tearing people down. We really should mind the precious time we spend with the people around us. There's no denying how impactful positive people are when you are surrounded by them. You bond, get support and most importantly get help to thrive in this very difficult life.
But then there are the people who berate you, mock you and put you down. These are the individuals that are naturally incline to be grumpy at the world so they're grumpy at you. I use to have friends who would join the same activities after school as I did just so they could prove they were better than me.
And people wonder why I only keep in touch with a couple of friends since highschool. Pfft!
I still have people that are gifted at finding ways to see the negative at every good thing that happens to me.
New promotion? "You'll have to spend more time at the office now"
Weight loss? "There is no way you can keep this up"
New purse? "Someone is definitely going to steal that from you"
Not only do I have a negative Nancy that I can't get rid of, I find myself thinking of ways to please this person. I keep spending time planning on ways to make this person happy, to buy something as a gift, to please this person.
Why are we destined to be like that dog who yelps in pain when their master kicks them in the ribs yet the very next second we're sitting at their feet, begging for attention, begging for scraps of love?
This makes me depressed.
Thursday, 26 July 2018
Monday, 9 July 2018
Time versus Energy
On one of my long commute from the office back home, I was listening to a podcast and stumbled upon this concept of time management versus energy management.
The speaker was talking about how mistaken everyone was when it came to pursuing better time management. Instead we should all be working towards a more efficient use of our energy.
His logic was that we all had 24 hours in a day. No matter how much we try to squeeze in or cut and slash out, we are still stuck with the same number of minutes as our neighbor.
Now energy on the other, we can manipulate somewhat. What energy our bodies can spend may not necessarily be the same as the person sitting next to you. You may get tired easily or you may bounce off the walls with exuberance. Either way, you can control (to a certain extent) how much energy you want in your everyday life and that is what really matters.
I suppose this makes sense.
How much can you possibly do within those 24 hours when you're depleted of energy. The same 5 tasks might take a whole day for a person who's hungover, but only 5 hours for someone who got enough sleep.
We might be on to something here.
If this theory proves true, people will benefit more from polyphasic sleeping (sleeping in short periods, multiple times a day) and more exercise (since the more energy you spend, the more energy you get).
However, there is a danger to polyphasic sleep, not everyone can do this.
Also, not having enough sleep could sabotage the exercise benefits.
Do we stick to the time-tested method of organizing all the given hours in a day, potentially forgoing an important revolutionary way to maximize every day of our lives?
Or do we try maximizing our energy, discovering a new, better way to live out the rest of our lives, potentially wasting it all away if we're doing it wrong.
My brain. It hurts.
The speaker was talking about how mistaken everyone was when it came to pursuing better time management. Instead we should all be working towards a more efficient use of our energy.
His logic was that we all had 24 hours in a day. No matter how much we try to squeeze in or cut and slash out, we are still stuck with the same number of minutes as our neighbor.
Now energy on the other, we can manipulate somewhat. What energy our bodies can spend may not necessarily be the same as the person sitting next to you. You may get tired easily or you may bounce off the walls with exuberance. Either way, you can control (to a certain extent) how much energy you want in your everyday life and that is what really matters.
I suppose this makes sense.
How much can you possibly do within those 24 hours when you're depleted of energy. The same 5 tasks might take a whole day for a person who's hungover, but only 5 hours for someone who got enough sleep.
We might be on to something here.
If this theory proves true, people will benefit more from polyphasic sleeping (sleeping in short periods, multiple times a day) and more exercise (since the more energy you spend, the more energy you get).
However, there is a danger to polyphasic sleep, not everyone can do this.
Also, not having enough sleep could sabotage the exercise benefits.
Do we stick to the time-tested method of organizing all the given hours in a day, potentially forgoing an important revolutionary way to maximize every day of our lives?
Or do we try maximizing our energy, discovering a new, better way to live out the rest of our lives, potentially wasting it all away if we're doing it wrong.
My brain. It hurts.
Thursday, 5 July 2018
Tiger Grandparents
Thanks to Amy Chua's book, most of parents these days know about tiger parenting or are "helicopter parents" themselves.
There's nothing wrong in making sure your kids have the ability to thrive at life, even if it means breathing down their necks for most of their life (please, you just don't stop being a tiger parent, it follows you to the grave)
Obviously there are pros and cons to this type of parenting but I'm not going to argue. I would like to consider myself a tiger mom but I find myself leaning towards attachment parenting more.
But have you ever heard of tiger grandparents?
These are the ones that adore and dote on their grandchildren as many other grandparents do but with one difference; they do strict grandparenting too.
Sure they sneak in treats and desserts when the parents aren't looking and are quick to step in when they witness some discipline being carried out.
These grandparents also want their grandkids to learn an additional language, one that is usually not spoken within the family but could potentially provide an economic and social advantage later in the child's life.
These grandparents want their grandkids to be the biggest and most active kid in the playground, easily overshadowing other children at the sandbox, secretly laughing at one kid eating the sand.
These grandparents want their grandkids to stop crying immediately if they were not physically hurt.
Much similarities can be obtained from tiger parenting and grandparenting, but in my own experience, there is one big difference.
You also become the target for their tactics.
If the child is not learning Spanish as an elective language, the parent gets berated for not preparing the kid for the future, possibly limiting options in career possibilities. A career in technical support is easily achievable if one can speak 5 different languages. Why, little Petunia could even be a diplomat or work for the United Nations! They ignore the fact that you had to go through grueling hours of extra classes to learn a language that you barely use in the past 10 years of your life.
If the child is not walking by the age of 1, the parent gets blamed. From coddling to insufficient care during pregnancy, grandparents can find a myriad of ways to point fingers at the parent. In fact, grandma steps in by lifting baby up my the armpits and guiding her to take steps while grandpa conveniently puts the pacifier on a high table.
Never mind that the child might learn how to walk before she learns how to get her butt off the floor.
Perhaps there needs to be the next Amy Chua and write a self-mock memoir to expose the world to tiger grandparents. I think plenty of parents today can submit little tit-bits to make a book possible.
I know I can.
There's nothing wrong in making sure your kids have the ability to thrive at life, even if it means breathing down their necks for most of their life (please, you just don't stop being a tiger parent, it follows you to the grave)
Obviously there are pros and cons to this type of parenting but I'm not going to argue. I would like to consider myself a tiger mom but I find myself leaning towards attachment parenting more.
But have you ever heard of tiger grandparents?
These are the ones that adore and dote on their grandchildren as many other grandparents do but with one difference; they do strict grandparenting too.
Sure they sneak in treats and desserts when the parents aren't looking and are quick to step in when they witness some discipline being carried out.
These grandparents also want their grandkids to learn an additional language, one that is usually not spoken within the family but could potentially provide an economic and social advantage later in the child's life.
These grandparents want their grandkids to be the biggest and most active kid in the playground, easily overshadowing other children at the sandbox, secretly laughing at one kid eating the sand.
These grandparents want their grandkids to stop crying immediately if they were not physically hurt.
Much similarities can be obtained from tiger parenting and grandparenting, but in my own experience, there is one big difference.
You also become the target for their tactics.
If the child is not learning Spanish as an elective language, the parent gets berated for not preparing the kid for the future, possibly limiting options in career possibilities. A career in technical support is easily achievable if one can speak 5 different languages. Why, little Petunia could even be a diplomat or work for the United Nations! They ignore the fact that you had to go through grueling hours of extra classes to learn a language that you barely use in the past 10 years of your life.
If the child is not walking by the age of 1, the parent gets blamed. From coddling to insufficient care during pregnancy, grandparents can find a myriad of ways to point fingers at the parent. In fact, grandma steps in by lifting baby up my the armpits and guiding her to take steps while grandpa conveniently puts the pacifier on a high table.
Never mind that the child might learn how to walk before she learns how to get her butt off the floor.
Perhaps there needs to be the next Amy Chua and write a self-mock memoir to expose the world to tiger grandparents. I think plenty of parents today can submit little tit-bits to make a book possible.
I know I can.
Wednesday, 4 July 2018
Fah La La
If music be the food of love, play on.
(oh my gawd I'm such a show off!)
Music has always been a big part of my life. Who hasn't pretended to be Michael Jackson in front of their mirror, dancing to Billy Jean alone in their bedroom? I even was part of a troupe. Thankfully those were the days where cameras in cellphones were not readily available in a teenagers hand.
I remember having my heart flutter at the discovery that my then-boyfriend shared similar interests in my taste in music.
I also remember being viciously "attacked" by fans of different music genres. Those were the good times, when we argued passionately about which was better; music you could tap your feet to or music you could bang your head to.
Suffice to say, my taste in tunes have changed throughout the years, unlike my fashion sense.
I still wear (but barely fit) into baby-Ts. Remember those?!
I've gone from swing music from the 40 to rock bands of the 90's. I've facepalmed myself in embarrassment and surreptitiously left my playlist set to public.
Along the way, I've learned not to judge a person by the music blaring out from their headphones. Too many times I've asked what someone was listening to and recoil in shock at their music selection (and then quickly took it upon myself to "educate" them about "real" music, a trait I *must* have inherited from my father)
Too many times I've been on the other end of the conversation, either smiling smugly at someone's obviously shock and awe at my taste or blaming technical glitches for playing I Want It My Way (BSB fans, hollar!).
But like fine wine and good cheese, I'm become better as I age. I have come to realize that even the sound of people tapping their nails on glass is pleasurable. Who am I to judge someone who enjoys Gregorian chants (I for one, love them).
I do know that music moves all of us, even if it's different kinds. Isn't that wonderful?
To be connected by something that is same same, but different!
(oh my gawd I'm such a show off!)
Music has always been a big part of my life. Who hasn't pretended to be Michael Jackson in front of their mirror, dancing to Billy Jean alone in their bedroom? I even was part of a troupe. Thankfully those were the days where cameras in cellphones were not readily available in a teenagers hand.
I remember having my heart flutter at the discovery that my then-boyfriend shared similar interests in my taste in music.
I also remember being viciously "attacked" by fans of different music genres. Those were the good times, when we argued passionately about which was better; music you could tap your feet to or music you could bang your head to.
Suffice to say, my taste in tunes have changed throughout the years, unlike my fashion sense.
I still wear (but barely fit) into baby-Ts. Remember those?!
I've gone from swing music from the 40 to rock bands of the 90's. I've facepalmed myself in embarrassment and surreptitiously left my playlist set to public.
Along the way, I've learned not to judge a person by the music blaring out from their headphones. Too many times I've asked what someone was listening to and recoil in shock at their music selection (and then quickly took it upon myself to "educate" them about "real" music, a trait I *must* have inherited from my father)
Too many times I've been on the other end of the conversation, either smiling smugly at someone's obviously shock and awe at my taste or blaming technical glitches for playing I Want It My Way (BSB fans, hollar!).
But like fine wine and good cheese, I'm become better as I age. I have come to realize that even the sound of people tapping their nails on glass is pleasurable. Who am I to judge someone who enjoys Gregorian chants (I for one, love them).
I do know that music moves all of us, even if it's different kinds. Isn't that wonderful?
To be connected by something that is same same, but different!
Monday, 2 July 2018
30-day writing challenge
I love to write. I really do.
Do I write a lot? Nope.
Do I write well? Harharharhar
Do I want to write? All the time.
Do I have time to write? Harharharhar
But that's going to change.
For the next 30 days (disclaimer, does not include weekends and public holiday because cloning humans is not common practice yet) I'm going to try to write at least 350 words.
And I'm going to post it here.
Gasp! The embarrassment! The self mock! The possibility that one day I might look back on this and force the earth to open up and swallow me by sheer will power! What if someone actually reads this?!
But what if this is a small step towards something bigger, something that I could never have imagine?
Would it be worth the risk?
Yeah.
Do I write a lot? Nope.
Do I write well? Harharharhar
Do I want to write? All the time.
Do I have time to write? Harharharhar
But that's going to change.
For the next 30 days (disclaimer, does not include weekends and public holiday because cloning humans is not common practice yet) I'm going to try to write at least 350 words.
And I'm going to post it here.
Gasp! The embarrassment! The self mock! The possibility that one day I might look back on this and force the earth to open up and swallow me by sheer will power! What if someone actually reads this?!
But what if this is a small step towards something bigger, something that I could never have imagine?
Would it be worth the risk?
Yeah.
Tuesday, 23 January 2018
My love/hate relationship with coffee
I love coffee, I really do. The creamy bitterness rolled into a punch-in-the-face result.
Love it.
But just like any relationship that's bad for you, I need to stay far away from that seductive call of caffeine that promises a really great time but always ends up with me in a fetal position.
Love it.
But just like any relationship that's bad for you, I need to stay far away from that seductive call of caffeine that promises a really great time but always ends up with me in a fetal position.
I use to be a coffee fanatic. I could take over 4 cups a day and still have good night's sleep. I did it for the flavor.
When I was still studying, I'd look forward to coffee breaks where I'd enjoy a huge cup of steaming coffee, usually from one of those packets that already had the sugar and creamer in them.
Half and hour later and I'd find an excuse to make another cup while pouring over my notes.
While other kids were gulping down energy drinks, I'd be sipping from my cup of joe.
Think of me like the boring-non-pop-culture-savvy version to Lorelai Gilmore
But as usual, I over-did the whole coffee thing and now I can't have any. For health reasons.
Obviously, the overall aim of drinking coffee was to stay awake, but it was beginning to get out of hand.
Suddenly I realized I was more dehydrated than usual, was getting migraines more and being an irritable friend.
That's when I decided this relationship needed to be long distanced.
At this point in my being, middle-aged and questioning life, I only get to flirt with coffee. Lines have to be drawn and boundaries must not be crossed.
So if forgive me if I get misty-eyed whenever the rich aroma of a freshly brewed cup of coffee wafts past me.
I'll be in at the entrance of a coffee franchise, pretending to look at my phone while I inhale deeply.
Update: Dagnammit wrrxxrw couldn't wzzrrssw help wwrrsszz myself and caved ssswwwwfffzzttwrrrwwdddddd
Thursday, 4 January 2018
Hello 2018
Nope!
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
Nope, no new years resolution for me. Not this time!
I am *not* going to set myself up for failure.
I am *not* going to struggle to achieve un-achievable goals.
I am *not* going to be the 92% of people who failed to achieve their resolutions at the end of this year.
Who needs to get fitter? I love my jiggly, flabby, going-to-wear-a-tent-to-the-beach body.
Who needs to sleep more? The bags under my eyes make me look like an emo rockstar.
Who needs to eat better? I love my instant noodles and chocolate. One after the other, preferably.
I'm going to be gentle on myself. I'm taking it easy on myself. I'm not going to push myself so hard and beat myself up when I don't realize a goal.
I'm not going to stress so much either. I'm going to breathe more, to take moments to self reflect more.
To schedule in white space more.
So nope!
No resolutions to better myself for 2018.
Wait a minute.....
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
Nope, no new years resolution for me. Not this time!
I am *not* going to set myself up for failure.
I am *not* going to struggle to achieve un-achievable goals.
I am *not* going to be the 92% of people who failed to achieve their resolutions at the end of this year.
Who needs to get fitter? I love my jiggly, flabby, going-to-wear-a-tent-to-the-beach body.
Who needs to sleep more? The bags under my eyes make me look like an emo rockstar.
Who needs to eat better? I love my instant noodles and chocolate. One after the other, preferably.
I'm going to be gentle on myself. I'm taking it easy on myself. I'm not going to push myself so hard and beat myself up when I don't realize a goal.
I'm not going to stress so much either. I'm going to breathe more, to take moments to self reflect more.
To schedule in white space more.
So nope!
No resolutions to better myself for 2018.
Wait a minute.....
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