And love will lead you there...

I'm an odd cat. I read and re-read stuff I wrote, and chuckle to myself because the me I wrote about, or rather, the me that wrote, writes rather optimistically with rosy-glasses intact! Well, you know what they say, behind that smile, the smiler doth feels sad and is carrying a world of hurt. The sad stories that only hearts can heave and sigh away are carefully hidden behind those glossy lips and toothy grin. A Chinese friend said that in her language there is a saying that expresses this charade well, in translation: "In every home, there is a book that has never been read".

That you may find reality in my uncanny existence, I think today, the blog missive will attempt to pull those tortoiseshell glasses off. So, pull up a chair and let me put the kettle on :) Let me tell you some of our downs in Canberra so far...

1. I still seem to be the only person I know among students in the department who is not receiving a stipend at the end of the month, or bi-monthly, from a generous funder.

2. Hence, on Aloha Fridays, when the guys and gals invite for a pint, I craft a sob-story of having to rush to get Kimo out of school and that Wendell's on his shift, and such; I refrain from beer simply because I have no money for flavoured drinks of any sort.

3. When your budget is $20 (or less) a week for food, vegetarianism becomes a close friend and the stretching of food becomes my Arts and Crafts session - how do you rebirth a meal? Of late, a slice of home-made bread dunked into a doctored-up from-the-can satay sauce was surprisingly satisfying. Not so different from eating a RM1.50 roti canai telur (egg paratha) from the local vendors in Sabah :) As for Kimo, he eats his usual balanced diet, but now, jello is a daily addition because a pack of jello makes a good 4 servings, enough to last him the week (on alternate days). Sad? But true...

4. Finding Xmas wrapping paper a little pricey at AUD$3-4, I proceeded to recycle the papers in my office. Stark white, I got a friend to sketch Chrimassy-looking cartoons on it, which I proceeded to colour in. Said friend's hubby got so sad at my measly colour pencils (2 shades of silver and 2 shades of purple), he went to get "magic colour" (inked color pens) at the campus newsagent. I'd say, that was the best looking wrapping paper I had ever seen! Personalized, too. Touched, grateful and humbled? True!

5. And...

... what am I thinking?

I am just not cut out to moan! Maybe when I show off to my sister next time, that I had made it through sheer grit! [Anything to get Tania's goat!! :)]

BUT... seriously, the following are what counters all the sad stuff combined:

6. That I cannot complain that we have been blessed today: We have a house-sitting stint coming up, where we get to save some money! True! And about time...

7. Kimo has successfully been weaned off his diapers! He now can pee and poo on his own, albeit, with a minor mishap or two. Still! And about time...

8. Wendell has a job that pays, not as much as he would like, but it pays!! Good! And just in time...

9. I have written over 30,000 words since I arrived for thematic papers that may or may not feature in my dissertation/thesis. This is equivalent in length to an Honors thesis. Really? Yup, took a lot of time...

10. My revised thesis topic is the most daring, most beyond-my-imagination, most new, most scary, most different, most exciting to anything, any academic thing I have done in my life. Truer than true! The time has come...

Happy weekend, all!

"What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger"

p/s Not forgetting neighbours and friends who give away toys and food that cheer us to no end: Satay sauce among many things spiced-up our meagre diet; Second-hand toys galore for Kimo to supplement his cars and blocks. The kindly neighbour giving his kids toys away due to their leaving for their home country this week, said that it was our "right" to receive as neighbours! How cool is that? A merry Christmas for Kimo indeed!

Hope springs... eternal

I love, absolutely love, cats. The first cat, Wendell and I had adopted, came from the dumpster in our first rental. At the eve of our wedding, we were concerned about hauling our stuff and of all things, spray-painting my so-called wedding shoes silver. When suddenly, at the parking lot, we heard the driest-ever kitty mewling coming from the scraggliest-ever kitty in all Sabah. After properly bringing him, Tiger, into our home, he became bigger, stronger and worm-free. Tiger also learned to potty where humans do, rode with us in our weekly trips back to Tamparuli and was the most affable cat around.

One morning, it didn't come home. Worried that it had gotten into some kind of territorial fright, I went out searching for it. The children in the next apartment had been friendly with Tiger, and this particular morning, one of them was up and engaged me in a conversation at the corridor. From across the air-well partitioning each apartment, I asked if the child had seen Tiger. The child said, "I have a kitty, too" and promptly pulled up Tiger from under his armpits to show me. Tiger had apparently spent the night at another family's house. I didn't admonish the child but went back into our unit, woke Wendell up and told him about Tiger's turning-away of affection for us. Tiger was indeed an incredibly good children's cat.

We had two other tortoise-shell tabbies after Tiger. Both with unique characters; lives and ends. They say that pets are therapeutic and provide unconditional love. I once felt so stressed, I grabbed Dulcie and began stroking her fur rhythmically for half an hour, my stress melted away, I felt dozey and actually fell asleep. When I woke up, cat was sleeping beside me and I felt a 100 times better.

There are no kitties to be had, today. The timing is simply not right, among other considerations. We were back-up pet-sitters the other day. Somebody at the university posted an email in the mass emailing list I was on, asking for a house and pet-sitter. I responded to the pet-sitting opportunity, and soon, we were introduced to Sexton, a massive 15 kg orange tabby! It took to us, and Kimo was giddy with excitement by the novelty of having an animal around. We didn't have to assume any pet-duty 'cos I suppose the original house-sitter got everything covered. But till today, Kimo remembers the house number of said kitty.

The feeling that you don't fit in because you're different - your hair, weight, hobbies, talking style - renders eventually that feeling that you don't belong in a particular group, or with a set of people, or even family. I am a rather snory person: I snore when I've had a tiring day; I snore because my sinus is dry and constricted. I've even caught myself snoring. Wendell got irrirated with me for snoring through the night and causing him sleep deprivation. But it was when he insisted that I could have had controlled my snoring the night before that something in me snap: I felt stigmatized and thought at once that this is probably how people feel when prejudiced for the colour of their skin. The feeling was that intense that it scared me, that I could feel so out-of-place; so rejected.