Joni Moves to New Zealand

Hmmm...that doesn't sound right, does it?

I knew today wasn't going to be your ordinary mid-week workday. I just knew it! When I decided to go into work 45 minutes earlier than usual, oh boy, I should have known I was in for trouble. Call it messing with the intricate subliminal invisible forces of balance of the Earth's energies in the natural course of bla bla bla bla...

So how it happens is, H.R calls and asks if i'd consider relocating to New Zealand for a permanent role in Finance. They want you!?

Funny I always thought those words would sound a lot better. Like having them sung in a Michael Bublé song. Or with champagnes popping. Or like hearing my winning name at the Oscars.

After all your toiling days at school and at work, to believe words like that would just make your career, and to finally hear those words that you thought would be the most magical words to ever tease your ears, and then realise they really weren't all the candyfloss and fairycakes you imagined them to be.

You want fame. You want fortune. Anything less is for unambitious fools!! You want glory. But silly girl, you're in love...and the world simply couldn't make you an offer good enough if it couldn't give you that...

Ah, but the Pleasures of Housekeeping!

Miracles happen on Mondays. Has anyone noticed? I could have sworn I had three plates, one saucepan, two glasses, a couple of forks, and a frying pan in this sink this morning. Come to think of it, make that three glasses - I washed down some juice on my way out the door.

And if i think really hard, I'm pretty sure I sculpted Ayers Rock from my bedsheets as I rolled out of bed today. The bathroom was in a state to be desired, and I wrote a mental note to myself to take the juice and milk cartons to the recycling bin downstairs. Must remember not to scrunch up the note and recycle it with everything else! Gosh, speaking of the trash, it really needs to be taken out. Yup, this apartment is leased to one tenant only. New colonies will require pre-approval.

Anyhow, true to its title of Miracle Mondays, I come home from work, and behold! A most profound sight!

Everything in the sink found its way into the steamy dishwasher. They're dry and ready to be reused. And spotless. The kitchen - good to go! Cartons - disappeared! Incredible!

The bedroom: Fluffed pillows. Check. Clean and pressed sheets. Check. Fresh towels on the side of the bed. Check.

Next stop: Bathroom. Dandy!

I mean, call yourself a sceptic, but Mondays have made me a believer! Never underestimate the good karma of taking the old lady across the street. God IS watching, and rewards you in the most unexpected ways...

Heart on Canvas

"The canvas. Why do I look at it? Every minute - I steal a glance, then turn away. Am I ashamed? It's nothing spectacular, but i take another peek anyway. It's the faceless girl with the red hat and red dress. It's the way she's sitting, knees together and feet apart, relaxed and sure, that reminds me of something familiar. Something familiar, or something I desire? Her figure. Her curly long black tresses thrown to the wind. The dog she's patting. The iron-cast table on which her elbow leans and her fingers in the air. The purple building behind her with the black-rimmed windows and creeping greens that stream over the window sills. An archway that leads...to an indeterminate place."

Was it a random thought that manifested onto canvas? Look again. Look carefully.

As my eyes catch the worthless painting again, my subconscious unravels its secrets. The girl with the perfect body. Dark voluminous curls. The things I desire of myself. The street scene. The buildings behind her. I'd like to think it represents Europe, or at least a warped version. The windows especially, one opened. That's my room. This is somewhere I'd like to be, at least once in my life. To wake up to the dancing aromas of brewing fresh coffee from the little cafe downstairs. My alarm the sounds of a fiddler playing to the passer-bys. It's Sunday morning, and the streets are alive. Downstairs. From where I live. In the purple building. The dog. The scruffy friend I've never had but have so longed for. Sassafras. A scruffy sounding name for a scruffy dog I'm yet to have.

I started painting yesterday afternoon after yet another unfulfilling trip to yet another monstrous shopping centre filled with shameless excuses for consumerism. The lack of mental stimulation ate me up whole and spat me out in frustrated pieces. In the end, it was one of my simplest childhood delights that brought peace back to me, a kind that only art can provide. Here's hoping my first affair with the canvas with be an exciting, but lasting one.

And may dreams come true....

Butterfingers Meets Wolf

There is little I fear about travelling and being alone. I'm no stranger to my own company, nor to foreign streets and neighbourhoods. In fact, most of the time, I'm simply skipping along through the woods like the freckle-faced girl in a red velvet hood on her way to see her grandma. That is until she meets the big bad wolf.

In this case, my proverbial big bad wolf wasn't actually all that big. Or bad. I did nevertheless lose a few freckles from our meeting at the basement carpark last Friday evening, and the one handshake that was extended to me, I wish now that I hadn't accepted.

The basement of my building serves not only as a carpark, but has a few storage and workrooms/sheds for its residents. I have the luxury of parking pretty close to the entrance of the lifts, but of late, I've been coming home from work to find an old man working in his shed almost directly behind my parking space. I hate that he insists on talking to me every single time we cross paths, but figuring he was an owner-occupant in this building and merely wanted to get to know the neighbours, I reluctantly obliged. By the 2nd meeting, I realised he was more than friendly. He was senile.

On Friday, i came home as usual. I noticed the shed opened, but instead of the old man, there was a younger man, standing outside my car waiting for me to come out. I stalled as long as I could, but if only I had brains larger than a fairytale girl's at the time, I would have panicked sooner, realised that I needn't put up with this, and driven away. Afterall, there were plenty of visitors' parking spaces outside. But no. I was a fairytale girl in fairyland where all endings are inevitably happy, so I came out of the car with my fairy godmother in tow.

He extended his hand and introduced himself as Paul. He looked normal at first, but his speech tells me he has a mental problem. What kinda place IS this? I introduced myself in a firm, but bright manner as I would greet anyone, and took his hand. He held on and wouldn't let me go. He looked at me with glazed eyes, slouched posture and slurred speech and wouldn't let go of my hand. My heart sank.

Still in semi-fairyland oblivion, I kept surprisingly calm, and finally I yanked my hand out of his grip. Then he says: "Boyfriend? Boyfriend?"

Three thoughts in one second: "Was he speaking to me like that because I was Asian, thus would only understand simple, broken English - kinda like 'taxi? taxi?'", "Is he asking if I had a boyfriend?", or "Is he asking to BE my boyfriend?" - Either way, i don't wanna know what he wants!

Whilst he continued to initiate more questions, I gave him mono-syllable answers as I hurriedly got my things out of the car, but God help me, everything was slipping through my fingers. I was weak with fear physically before the reality reached my head. I couldn't open any door quick enough, keys were finding the floor and wouldn't fit key holes.

I got into my apartment, slapped myself a few times, then exchanged stories with the apartment manager over the phone. According to her, Paul has a mental illness, but is harmless, although he's been specifically instructed to 'stay away from girls'. The old man is his father - an Alzheimer's Disease sufferer. As for me, I get a new carpark space on a different level.

I know now that I should have done things differently, but all I had in my head at that time was that I shouldn't discriminate against people with mental illness. They probably do know that they're different, and treating them as such might only drive them to anger, or perhaps violence. The last thing i wanted to do was upset him. More than anything, I realise how terribly ill-equipped I am of handling such situations. How will I know, if it happens again, whether I'd instinctively protect the other person's feelings, or learn first to protect my own well-being? If there are any girls (or guys) who have been in a similiar situation, I'd really like to hear about how you dealt with it.

Good and safe night to you all.

Oedipus The King

OEDIPUS THE KING

It's been thousands of days since I washed my hands clean of high school English Literature. Antigone - daughter of Oedipus. Oedipus, the king who killed his father and married his mother. When your memory clearly fails you and everyone's looking at you for signs of intelligence and culture in Sophocles' ancient Greek tragedies, given that tiny mousehole of an opportunity to prove yourself, you say: "Yes, sick man. That Oedipus. Sick man, he was."

As the play unfolded before me on Saturday night in the Playhouse at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre, I began to realise that Oedipus was a freak by no fault of his own, but was doomed long before he was even born, by the Gods' cruel game of sealing a murderous and incentuous fate upon a 'could have been' innocent man.

All of us, my colleagues and I, thoroughly enjoyed the play so much that we vowed to make another night of it. Something else of course - Greek tragedies are so terribly intense, but I must say it has renewed my interest in good quality plays. Front row seats like what we had would be perfect as well, the tickets this time with compliments from David.

A few note-worthy moments:

• Lead actor, Marcus Graham, apparently has a permanent, let's call it, deformity on both his little toes such that they both stick out conspicuously. According to Qing and Nicola, that was all they could focus on for the first half hour. They could even work out the bung toes from inside the leather shoes he wore from thereon, or so they say. :)
  
  
• Jocasta the Queen and wife/mother of Oedipus, so casually says that the mother is every male child's first fantasy, as in, before a man desires any other woman, he first desires his mother. OK, we loved the play and all, but them Greeks had some weirddd ideas, hey??
  
  
• Oedipus, after witnessing his wife's/mother's suicide proceeds to stab his eyeballs, then throws a colossal tantrum on his back in the city of Thebes, kicking around, screaming and spinning about, a sight to which I suddenly broke into uncontrollable giggles.
  
  
• The narrator (bear in mind that this was a modern interpretation) sums up the story towards the end, in the most sensible and discreet way, by calling Oedipus the father-killer and the mother... , and she left it there.
  

Good night to you all...

afantasylife@hellokitty.com: The Japan Diaries

Tuesday, 28 May 2003

"Hi Mum,

I'm writing to you from school. Don't have anything to do after lunch, and i have 20 minutes before my last class for the day. Yeay!"

"I have my lesson with Toshi tonight. Yesterday i received two requests from new students, so I'm going to meet one on Saturday afternoon, and one on Monday night."

"Monday night one is a student who's going to do Dentistry overseas…the other guy is a businessman - and he's going to the US in a few weeks' time! It's almost as if he wants some kinda crash course!"

"… my turtles are doing fine. I wonder if turtles get bored cos' all they seem to do is constantly burrow through the rocks, like they're trying to dig their way out! They have to put up with earthquakes, train noises, loud music when i come home, and I think the only time they get a GOOD night's sleep is when i sleep as well!"

"…the earthquake from up north yesterday will bring its aftereffects today. I don't know how much of it we will feel down in Tokyo."

"Keanu Reeves is in town!!! Waahhhh....he's in Tokyo promoting his new film Matrix Reloaded. Is that out yet in Melbourne?"

"I can't WAITTT to get my digital camera and Fred! I'm missing out on a lot of good photos without my dig cam."

"Love you both...hugs and muaxxx…Joni"

Fred, my toy monkey since 1989. Never loved any other as i did him. A faithful travelling companion, his time ending at the end of my Japan trip. Still missing you...

Where did I go in JUNE?: Kyoto

Friday, 20 June 2003

"Hey my darling brathaaa!!

It's my last day at Elementary School today. Sighhh...I can't believe one week finished so quickly, and as usual, I get SOOO attached to my kids. (In Junior High, I teach one grade per week, rotating btw Grade 1, 2, and 3, and at the end of each week, I miss the kids of THAT grade as i move to the next - it's an endless cycle!)"

"… gosh, once you enter that class, you can't help but simply fall utterly deeeeppp in love. At the end of the class, the kids just run to you and tap you on the shoulder (or wherever they can reach!! They're just shortiess..kawaiii!!) and they GRAB your hands like they've known you all their lives."

"Today i had 8-9 year olds (3rd grade) ... oh goshhhh... the sweetest babies... with their big, big EYESSS...and plenty of smiles."

"My company recruits A.L.Ts (Assistant language Teachers) for the Board of Education in various cities. They have contracts all over Japan in fact, so if i renewed my contract for next year, i can choose another part of Japan if i wanted."

"We work in public schools, which means we integrate into the Japanese education system…"

"We have normal working hours, weekends off, and on average I have about 4 classes a day. The rest of the time I prepare for my next lesson, or study Japanese, or do whatever I please…"

"We get about 7-8 weeks paid summer vacation...hehhe...boy am I looking forward to that!!"

"So bro, you wanna come??? I think you'll just LOOOVVEEE it, especially if you love children. Ok then...i'm gonna go now...what's been going on? How's exams?? :)"

"Take care now...and great to hear from you..hugs!, Joni"

This email was written to my 'brother', Reza, a special friend whom I found amongst the thorns of fake people. Thank you for shining above the rest.

Thursday, 19 June 2003
"Hi everyone!!

It's an EXTREMELLLLYYYY HOTTT day in Japan!! Totemo atsui, desune!?? I'm one big sweatball walking around."

"… I just spent the last six hours with one hundred and fifty short, smooth-skinned, baby-teeth grinners with super-high energy, and also happen to be 150 of the most adorable, cutest and most LOVABLE little human beings I have EVERRR had the pleasure to be with. Yeaaa...i started Elementary School this week."

“Today, I had second graders (8 yr olds)…I had lunch with them at their desks in the classroom, and they talked and talked and talked in Japanese, trying their hardest to get me to understand them, but most of it i don't.^_^ But does it bother them? Hmmm..nope! They just keep talking and asking and asking and asking."

"… kids are so intuitive and sensitive to everything. They'll come up with all sorts of charades-like body language to get me to understand what they say, and I guess it's the same for me when i'm teaching them. I've become an actor these days - body language in the classroom speaks a universal language!"

"And all they want is a big big smile, and energy to match theirs, and that's what I aim for everytime, regardless of how i'm really feeling...you leave all your own issues outside the door, and you just devote the next 50 mins to each new set of children."

"But seriously, I don't know how to say this, but they're just angels. Japanese children are like ANIME come to life!"

"I have about 20 or 30 little people escorting me EVERYWHERE (to class, to the bathroom, to the teachers room, EVERYWHERE!), and I only have one pair of hands, so it's about three kids to each hand, and the rest would have to hold on to my elbows or my shirt. Children just love to be loved..... sighh...don't we all..."

"Anddd...Kyoto............was absolutely BEAUTIFUL.....so traditional and heaps much better than Tokyo."

"Bye guys! hugss! Miss you all…Love, Joanie"

Where did I go in JULY/AUGUST?: Shizuoka

OUTSIDE JAPAN?: South Korea

Friday, 29 August 2003
“Hi Everyone!!

How are you guys going? It’s been a while since I sent you guys an email. I think my last email was from Seoul, huh? Well, I’ve been pretty busy with stuff (yea, despite the super-long summer holidays, I still find myself “busy with ‘stuff’”)…"

"That’s right! I climbed Mt. Fuji!"

"I got down just yesterday afternoon, and I’m a little sunburnt and super extremo SORE all over! I woke up this morning completely unable to move…But at least I can say ‘Yeayy! JOANIE CONQUERED MT. FUJI – all the way to the 3776m peak!"

"…when a Canadian friend first proposed Mt. Fuji nearly 2 months ago, my mind went: ‘Gee….this person OBVIOUSLY doesn’t know me at all! Joni? Climb a mountain!?? Hah! Joke of the century! He must be mad, but I’ll play along, hey?!’"

"The idea wouldn’t leave my head."

"I knew that I would never forgive myself if I was here living in Japan, but I didn’t at least die trying to climb this infamous mountain."
"The itinerary:

Arrive at starting point, Level 5 of Mt. Fuji.

Climb from 11.30am and arrive at Level 8 by 4.30pm.

Have some dinner, sleep till midnight at the resthouse on Level 8. (Dinner provided plus slave-ship style sleeping arrangements – unique, but adequate.)

From midnight onwards, climb to the peak in darkness, arriving at around 4.30a.m. to catch the sunrise.

Following this, back down again to level 5, then hop onto our bus to take us back to Tokyo."

"The climb from Level 5 to 8 was great…absolutely breath-taking scenery."

“When you find yourself eye-levelled with the clouds and then beyond them as you go higher, that was totally amazing."

"The climb from Level 8 at midnight, however, was a totally different story. In fact, my friend Yoko had to ‘retire’ from the rest of the journey at the resthouse because she was ‘mountain sick’, throwing up and all…So we left her behind."

"By now, I too was nauseated and yearning for oxygen."

"The climb…became dangerous, and you had to be at your wits at all times and did what was necessary to survive. Climbing in near complete darkness, up steep narrow rocky paths, the wind ferocious. As well as freezing temperatures and tiredness, I was taking constant breaths as deep as I could in attempt to regulate my breathing. Nausea was taking over."

"…all you saw looking over the edge was a blanket of fog over complete darkness, and an infinite depth that one can potentially fall into.”

"…had to crawl on our hands and knees to prevent being blown over the edge by sudden strong winds. I didn’t want to be there anymore. It was awful. From Level 8 onwards, I was praying to God."

"The view from the peak was amazing. Unfortunately, the promise of a beautiful sunrise was not fulfilled due to terrible weather."

"And if we thought climbing 9 hours to get to this peak and spending only 30 minutes up there was frustrating enough, the climb down was utterly miserable! My knees screwed up about an hour from the climb downwards because the path was steep and slippery, and was completely covered with running stones. The pressure on the knees was overwhelming...I was in agony…"

"Midori looked after me all the way, and was amazing support."

"Holding the mind together is crucial…there was no one to cry to and the pain was enough to make me give up, but how else was I going to get down but to do it myself."

"About an hour and a half to the base, the guide finally…helped me with knee braces and a walking stick (which eased the pain a little) and that’s how I limped all the way down. It was only when we finally reached Level 5 that it dawned on us…It was done."

"As for my legs and the rest of my body, it’s going to take a few days to recover. I hope my knees will not be an on-going problem. So, there! I’ve done it! And now I can sleep better, knowing that I didn’t chicken out, and that now I have one thing less in life to regret not doing. But I’ll definitely not climb another mountain again – ever! :)"

"Catcha guys soon! Hugs, Joanie"

As it turned out, my knees never fully healed. Doctors have not been able to work it out or do anything for me, and I’ve had to live with crippled knees for the last two years. Prolonged walking hurts me. Slopes bring paranoia. Was it worth it? I guess. At least I lived to tell the story.

Where did I go in SEPTEMBER?: Osaka, Kobe & Nara

Where did I go in OCTOBER?: Hiroshima & Miyajima

Where did I go in DECEMBER?: Nikko

OUTSIDE JAPAN?: Hong Kong & China

Sunday, 28 December 2003
“Hey everyone!

Are the Christmas carols still ringing in your heads?? They are, for me! I’m singing them everywhere I go, and…if it doesn’t drive me nuts, it’s actually kinda…nice… “doo doo-doo-doooo…walking in a winter wonderland-d-d-d..” By the way, Merry Christmas to all of you! Sorry I couldn’t send out greetings earlier – have been away. Here’s da latest update!"

"Well, it’s been two days since I got back from a 2-week trip to Hong Kong/China. And guess what? The first morning back in Japan, I drew open my curtains and saw SNOW blanketing the street, the trees, the cars, and the roofs of houses! It was SOOooo beautiful I was leaping with excitement!"

"Anyway, it didn’t snow last night, but the previous day’s snow hadn’t all melted away – which goes to show how cold it is here! BRRRRrrrr – it’s colddd! The winds are icy, and there’s no way I’m leaving my house without a scarf, beanie and gloves. But it’s kinda good cos it means I can go shopping for a nice wARRMMMmm coat – preferably something furry! Yeay! ^_^…hehee…"

"… shopping in HK is absolutely cRAZZZzzzyyyYYY!! I’m telling ya – it can’t be done! It just CAN’T be done! I mean, there’s SOOOOOO much to see – its virtually endless – shops and shops on every street in every district!!"

"I can’t disclose how many times I had to go to the money changer to stretch out my Yen, but….let’s just say…I have to cut out on a lotta other luxuries now that I’m back..."

"And the great thing...was having local friends who really knew how to get around, so I got to see heaps of Hong Kong. I have to admit that initially, I thought HK was just another Asian city – fast-paced, commercial, dynamic and just filled with people rushing madly around! But…then I know now why so many choose to call HK home. Went up to The Peak one night and saw the expansive panoramic HK night skyline…and gosh...i was just in awe."

"Ahh well..that’s that, everyone. This is my little intro to my winter holidays, and the photo presentation will be up soon, so look out for it!"

"Miss you all heaps- thanks to ALL who sent Christmas cards and present (Thanks Rina! Muax!). Wishing all of you an wonderful and safe and exciting new year in 2004! …Let the parties begin!!"

"Hugss, Joanie"


I never saw snow in my city again after that day. But my real winter wonderland experience was in Sapporo, Hokkaido two months later, in February. The monumental snow and ice sculptures at the Annual Snow Festival; sumo-wrestling Abbie at 2a.m. on the way back to our hotel to the horror of Japanese locals; soaking in a natural hot spring with snow-capped mountains and bare trees in the distance and snow all around me. Moments like this...nothing else in this whole world matters...

Where did I go in FEBRUARY '04?: Sapporo, Hokkaido
Where did I go in MARCH '04?: Mito & Komatsu, Kanazawa

Virtual Reality

Last week I had three friends, all unacquainted, ask the same questions on a topic that continues to be in the centre of my thoughts, each and every day. It was about Japan. It seems nearly two years after my return from a life less ordinary, I still can't get it out of my system. I won't let myself, nor will the people around me. Little do they know I'm grateful, for without their questions, I only have myself to remind of those things that now seem surreal. Leading a conventional life post-Japan requires conformity, acceptance and a good pair of running shoes to stay in this rat race that rewards you with four weeks of annual leave, office politics, and RSI.

Memories. déjà vu? A photo. A smell. A familiar word. A sound.

It doesn't take much to flash me back to that place and that time where I was living in the most advanced virtual reality - one that lasted a year - one that returned me a different person. I've learned, the hard way, to internalise these thoughts until that opportune question is presented to me. There was once a time when I beguiled myself into believing that anyone with a functioning set of ears would suffice as a suitable audience to all my chin-wagging. I was desperately bubbling over with more to say than I had words for. How to get an audience? I tried the photo presentations, the bribery dinners, the long roadtrips with no escape. But in the end, where was the satisfaction that I thought would ensue? My stories fell on many a deaf, disinterested ear. It's ok. You can't impose your life on someone else. You were never meant to verbalise that moment when you sat at the edge of the world, feeling never surer that Heaven had descended on that very place. You have to let it be. You can't define something that won't be defined and cannot be encapsulated by words. Words will simply confine it. Or worse, change it. Let it be. Set it free.

Found some old emails I sent to family & friends whilst I was in Japan. They were just sitting in an old inactive email account, so i've decided to post them up on my blog. If it's not your thing, you've been warned! ^_^ I'll keep them generally in their original form to maintain their authenticity, censoring only certain 'explicit' details. So yup, read at own will.

A Little Angel

Everytime i see this photograph i can't help but melt away. Mao Yamada. Could he be an angel? The most adorable kind? He's all the cutest pies in the world, all the sweetness bursting in one little package. He was only days old when we were first introduced, and it was love eversince. He's deserving of all my thoughts and presents, and from the regular progress reports I receive from his parents, their lives are simply filled with sheer joy of having him around. Aunty Joni loves you baby, can't wait to see you again in Japan.

Just found another photo baby's otosan sent to me. Isn't he just the most gorgeous thing?? So sweet you could just eat him up...or at least plant a hundred kisses on those juicy cheeks...^^

Where's Wally?

I've never lived in any other Australian city ever in my life. It was always Melbourne. Over the years, you can't help but grow to take your surroundings for granted. Yea, sure, there was the city and the Yarra running through it, the alley cafes, the clubs; we've rated the best finds from the sushi joints to the chocolate bars, from steakhouses to yumcha in Chinatown, and we know the fastest and smoothest routes to get to anywhere. Desensitised - that's what it was, and not necessarily a bad thing either.

Then I get posted to Brisbane. 3-month project.

What's disorientation? It's half way to Cairns before wondering why the kilometres to Cairns were getting smaller and smaller. Surprise surprise. I was heading towards the Great Barrier Reef and i hadn't even packed my snorkelling gear. Within my first 2 hours, I pulled over for a map check every 73 seconds, threatened to play dodg'em cars with oncoming traffic (thanks to the ingeniously designed one-way streets), and covered as many suburbs as half a tank of petrol would cover before arriving at the apartments.

On the upside, the riverside serviced abode was/is a 2 queen-sized bedroom, ensuite, walk-in robe, living, dining, study, laundry, double TV, and balcony that captures the view of the Brisbane river and city lights. Downstairs - swimming pool, gym, sauna, mini-golf and tennis courts.

I dropped my bags and cried most nights on the first week, and then pulled myself together. Homesick.

After a couple of weeks, i was back in Melbourne with a renewed appreciation. I was home! Bring on the speeding road ragers, the forsaken weather, the icky roadsides and my tiny, ant-filled apartment. Yatta! It was home and i was there... ^_^

Anyhow, i'm back in Brizzy again til the end of November. I can't explain it, but i'm doing heaps better. No more tears. Went exploring last night - the night markets at Southbank Parklands were so super groovy I can't wait to show Gav when he gets here...

Fish have only a 3-second memory...

I've been reading alot of blogs lately. Known ones. Random ones. It's because I have heaps of unallocated time to do all the things i would do if i could just gather a scrap of motivation. You can only look out from your apartment balcony at the BrisVegas city skyline for so long, and after that, when it's too late to be out alone and too early to call it a night, you get this nudging idea about starting a blog too.

So yes, i've read blogs, known and random, and enjoyed some more than others, and totally respect everybody's need for expression and their unique styles of doing so. I think the variety is great. So here's my deal.

I don't wanna talk about what I had for lunch today, what time I woke up, and especially not what I did at work. Nor do I wanna share my deepest darkest secrets because they'll be deep and dark no longer if they're at the access of an infinite number of people. Could you really replace close proximity interaction when it's story-telling time?? I don't think so. I'd rather my closest friends know that I trust them each individually & enough to share certain 'naughty' things with them (^. .^) over rounds of English Breakfast tea, in a dimly-lit room, tealight candles, and jazz in the distance, and best of all with my every facial gesture and charade-like body language as I tell it. Oh, that and it's fun too!

Having said all the things i didn't want for this blog, i haven't really given much thought to how i'd like it to be. I just wanna write things down. I just wanna pen some thoughts somewhere. Heck, it's possible that I'll be tempted to vent, and spread a gossip and poke fun and self-glorify (or self-loathe at odd times), but golly, who knows!? I haven't even started yet! It might be an interesting tune-in, or it might not be, but you know I can't satisfy everyone anyway, so I guess I'll just focus on the person writing the blog - it's my blog - my journey, I call the shots, hey?