Archive for January 11th, 2011

January 11, 2011

2 down, 98 to go

Before I forget, I finished my second book last night.

I chose “Manhunting” by Jennifer Crusie.

It was very good! Very, very, very good, actually. She just happens to know how to put funny and romantic into the same book EFFECTIVELY without going too corny, if you know what I mean. Very witty, too!

I am so much in love with Jennifer Crusie. i wish I could write like her.

Right now, I am reading “Hot Spot” by Debbi Rawlins. Yeah, more romance in my system. You should hear my thoughts these days, I think I am writing a book in my brain! But I have not written a single line yet. Thou shall not smirk at my book preferences! I want something that would pull me out of my misery, and this looks like it could be the answer.

Who knows, it may be in the stars that I would become a novelist some day. I always wanted to be one.

Heeh. 98 books to go!

January 11, 2011

To be remembered as…

There is no such thing as coincidences. I think.

A few hours ago, there were only two lines that kept playing in my head:

If I die young bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

(“If I Die Young” by The Band Perry)

Okay, maybe it is not the most pleasant picture that you can summon up, but I think it would be a nice way to go. If you know what I mean. Satin and roses. Mmm.. Red roses, to be exact. Pink Satin though, or maybe white?

However, I do not want to be remembered as the dead lady wrapped in white satin on a bed of red roses. No. I do want to be remembered as a person who was able to touch lives.

More than anything in the world that I like doing is helping out people. I want to be remembered not because I helped them, but that I was a friend. I want people to say, “hey! I remember that her…!” Even if they do not remember why or how we met, but I think it would be great to be remembered.

Unfortunately, my pessimism gets the better of me and would jump right in and say that I am a lousy person and that nobody will remember me. By the time I pass from this life on to the next, my pessimistic self would say that nobody would attend my wake, nobody donated packs of instant coffee to my grieving husband, and nobody would make salted peanuts to share with everybody.

Then again, I am not a wallflower – though I try so hard to be one. Do you have any idea how hard it is to melt into the background when you have a presence that just seems to jump at people? No, have not gone into the phase of accepting my overly enthusiastic presence.

The last thing I want is for people to remember me for being too loud. LOL

Although right now I do have some people who may remember me for being a loud mouth. :-s Be aware that I do not do this on purpose, my voice, my size, and my presence is like that by default. Even I am ashamed.

Should I be?

Anyway, I have drifted far and wide with my ramblings.

Remember this, if you please, IF I DIE YOUNG, REMEMBER THAT i AM A RAMBLER.

January 11, 2011

I am not depressed; just miserable

Last night, I felt the world turn as though going in a downward swirl. For a moment, I felt as though somebody was flushing me down the toilet along with all the undesirable things in the world. Then I looked up, and I realized that I was not being flushed by somebody, it was actually I who had been grabbing the rod triggering the flushing.

Who would be so stupid to do that? I thought. Well, obviously, that would be me.

Then I wondered.

You see, as what J. Gitomer once said, “Obstacles can’t stop you. Problems can’t stop you. Most of all, other people can’t stop you. Only you can stop you.”

This brings me to my life focus for the past few years. To be unstoppable. For several years, I believe I was quite unstoppable. I juggled three jobs, made everything work out, and for the longest time I just ignored that growing mass of black goo growing at my feet. Burnout, stress, fatigue, and the impeding doom called unhappiness.

I do not know what made me look down and stare at the black goo. Maybe it was because some friends were getting appalled by the size of the goo, or maybe it was because they just pointed out that perhaps I should sit for a while before the goo got bigger.

But the problem is, I am a hard headed person. Apart from that, I am the epitome of the Cowardly Lion. I was scared. I was not scared of the black goo, hell no, I was not scared of the goo at all. I was scared, however, of letting people down, of not being able to provide, and of not being able to survive. I am a survivor, I know, but what about the other people who are counting on me? So I pushed on. I thought that maybe if I pushed harder, moved faster, kept myself busy, that eventually the black goo would go away and leave me alone.

Obviously, when I started ignoring what my body was telling me, I failed to notice all the changes and soon enough, by the time I blinked and stopped at the nearby concession stand, I was waist deep in black goo.

The thing is, I am not really happy with all this movement, stress, and goal of being “unstoppable.” While it is true that nobody else is responsible for stopping us, I think at the end of the day, it is still up to each of us to stop ourselves before going overboard. I do not have a problem with stopping. I do like stopping. Stopping makes me feel happier, better, and less mopey. Of course, when I strolled instead of sprinting, the black goo started to disappear little by little.

UNTIL… Well, responsibilities and obligations gave me the wake up call and as though I was a child caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I sprinted as fast as I could in panic.

Guess what?

I am now neck deep in black goo.

But no, I am not depressed. I am miserable. I know how to stop myself, and I want to stop myself.

But gosh darn it! Somebody should give this Cowardly Lion some good old potion of courage from Getafix or the Wizard of Oz!!

Courage tonic ~ Priceless