The past two weeks were insane and right after I was done with the last of the insane week – the horrific Financial Statement Analysis, which was subsequent to the even more horrific tax paper; I had this long list of stuff I planned on doing. A lot of it involved food, sorry, can’t be helped.
Suiee fed me well. It was a heavenly breakaway from the fortnight of Gardenia diet.
Now that I get a breather, I actually sat back to ponder and think that life is somehow rather beautiful. And here is my list of life’s little pleasures, in no particular order and according to current memory:
1. Getting to instantly eat something when you start craving for it.
2. Egg tarts, either Tong Kee’s of India Street’s
3. ICE CREAM! Doesn’t the cold sensation and the feel of licking it off make you happeeee?
4. Grocery shopping?
5. IKEA. IKEA excites me more than clothes do. Owh, they have great ice cream too.
6. Eating peanut butter off a spoon
7. The smell of vanilla
8. The aroma of apples and cinnamon in the oven
9. Coffee when it’s made perfectly
10. A good solitary swim
11. Hot peppery stew with lots of parsley on a cold, rainy day
12. Good music
13. Tengok drama sambil makan
14. Dark chocolate
15. Crackers dipped in hot coffee
And owh, speaking of little pleasures, I rewarded myself with these over the weekend =)
Parsley, heaps of parsley
Yeah i know St Pat's is long over but i had this can of Guinness in the fridge so i poured it over the beef.
Then... Apples and Cinnamon came out of the oven
And i topped it all up by eating this off the spoon =D
I was listening to a song by Lenka, Live Like You’re Dying.
Well basically the message is about appreciating life and not putting it to waste, because people who know they are going to die will live each day to the fullest. However, sloughing through these two weeks having midterms after midterms and assignments after assignments (although I basically stay blur the whole journey, but a sense of guilt eats up a lot of energy too) is so not living to the fullest is it? If I ever were to die soon, I won’t touch any of these things with a 10 feet pole. Well, this is metaphorically.
Now literally, I think I’m living up to the song title. I’m really living like I’m dying. I AM dying. Accountancy eats away my life. I haven’t slept early for God knows how long. That means lost youth and a bad liver. I lack sleep. That means bad complexion and dark eye circles. I drink coffee to stay awake. It makes my teeth yellow. It makes me feel guilty for procrastinating, which it makes my heart go pitter patter all day long – I might get a heart attack. I worry, I get scared, I get pressured, I have nightmares of going to exams and forgetting to study this chapter or that. This is so not the quality of life a human being should have. It ruins me, physically and emotionally.
I wish someone could tell us for sure if the world is coming to an end in 2012. Studying how to analyze financial statements and evade tax would be pointless then, and I can go on with my jolly life before we all die.
I am sorry for putting you on queue to enter my brain dear effin Financial Statement Analysis. I need this. It’s therapy. And a dying person gets to have therapy.
This is Bullet. She is one of the toughest, most notorious, stubborn mutt-bitch I have ever seen. We picked her up from the Sunday market back in 2003. She and her two other sisters were just puppies. Three boys were carrying them in a box and they caught me starring at their pups. Naturally, they approached my mom and I to ask if we wanted to keep them, or they would be sent to SSPCA the next day. We brought the three puppies home with intentions to help home them.
Bullet was the fattest one of all. She had a short stub tail and I think she probably exerted a ‘bully’ sort of aura. Her siblings were afraid of her. She ate first, walked first and cried the loudest. I called her ‘bulat’, not wanting to name her because I knew she would be given away someday, and her owner then would want to name her. Naming is a special owner-pet sort of thing. We couldn’t keep her because there wasn’t room in my house for another dog. She was finally given away, but because she was such a whiner, my friend threw her back into my car porch in the middle of the night. We did not have much of a choice but to keep her. The name ‘bulat’ stuck, got altered a little bit and became Bullet.
Bullet’s characteristics of a notorious, stubborn bully had stuck ever since. My mother hated her because she would whine for hours, non-stop to get attention or into the house. She was resourceful, in a bad way. We tried to keep her out of the house, but she found ways in, climbing through gates, windows and under fences. She could jump over things without a problem, she was that fit. She did not get along well with my other dog. I think it had something to do with the fact that he gnawed on her ear when she was a tiny creature. So when she grew up to be faster a fitter than him, she pushed him around, ate his food, snatched his territory and bit into his fat ass mercilessly. She is also very, very good in manipulating and playing around with her fellow human’s psychology, ie: fake choking and crying for attention. She as so persistent that her whining and attempting to climb in through the window, hanging there halfway because she obviously will not fit, will go on for hours. Mom calls her troublemaker.
However, despite the fact that my mother hates her and my father hits her, bad, when she goes after the other dog’s arse, I can sense that she loves us with all her heart. I have a fair explanation for all that she does. Attention and love is all she seeks, and perhaps she would like to have more than what Hero gets. She tries very hard to please (when she’s sleeping and hears someone coming, she’ll go to the back door to bark at nothing because she wants to show that she’s doing work). She’s resilient towards humans, never fighting back no matter what. She’s a smart, strong girl that helps us rid the rodents in the house, and mind u, she is awesome at it. She knows when I’m sad, and when I cry, she licks away my tears. Anytime of the day when she sees your coming, she gets up and wags. She’s easy to feed, because she eats everything. And during Chinese New Year, she is one of those dogs who are damn afraid of firecrackers. But then, the moment you go out to accompany her or stand with her, she bucks up and goes all out barking at them bravely, the way Hero does instead of whine and whimper and trying to get into the house. it touches me, and makes me think of the extent she goes to, trying to please and impress us, and it makes what we do for her seem so minute.
My family has recently moved to someplace with a bigger compound. I was thrilled that my dogs would finally have a bigger place to run around in. However, trip after trip back to Kuching, I couldn’t manage to bring them over for a million and one reasons. However, this trip, I was determined. But before that, mom wanted her neutered because there were lots of strays in the area. I was doubtful as she was already 7 years old, but we went for it in the end.
When I went to pick her up yesterday, it broke my heart to see her lying there, unconscious. Her eyes were half open, her tongue was sticking out, and her incision area was still bleeding. The vet helped me put her in the back seat and I drove home slowly.
She did not wake up until a few hours later. She refused to eat anything yet. When she stood up, she looked like a newborn calf that could not stand properly yet. She seemed so fragile and frail compared to the healthy, energetic her I used to know. She refused to eat and kept vomiting. Until this morning, it was the 7th time.
I decided that it was time to call the vet. She told me to bring her in straight away to be put on drips because she was convinced my dog had contracted Parvo. I on my way to the temple, so I decided to wait to see how Bullet did later because someone had mentioned to me before that the vet is the mata duitan kind. Everything I got from Googling ‘Parvo virus’ made me want to cry. Terms like ‘deadly’ and words like ‘symptoms: vomiting, lethargy, bloody diarrhea (the vet was convinced she would get bloody diarrhea later on’ worried me. Mom however said she was progressing fine, only a bit weak from not eating, but she was alert. I prayed hard. And after more Googling, I finally saw what I wanted to see – that neutering may also lead to vomiting, nausea and loss of appetite.
When I got back, I thanked God that there was no more vomit on the floor. She drank the glucose solution I gave her. And I was contemplating whether or not to give her eggs since she had a wound. She still refused to take solid food. It was so contrasting because she would gobble up anything and everything before this. I suddenly thought of bananas and drove out to buy some. To my delight, she ate half =) But thankfully, no more vomiting. I think she’s recovering. And even when she is this weak, upon seeing us, she’ll wag and try to get up and walk towards us.
I look at her being so weak and it makes me feel as if we inflicted all of this on her. We wanted to move her to a better place, we wanted to keep her ‘safe’ by neutering her, and this is where it got her. Do good intentions justify this? I am writing this post as a reminder to me, that next time, when she whines non-stop and my irritation is hitting the roof; I shall remember that she loves us with all her heart and I promise to love her even more.
Therefore, dear Bullet, I know you’re a tough bitch. Get well soon. You’ll be chasing rats and cats off our compound in no time and singing along to the Paddle Pop ice cream man. Big sister here loves ya, heaps.
