Making Light of Things

September 2004 Archives

In Better

Faith has been feeling rather down these past few days. The nausea has been acting up, and while she hasn’t actually thrown up yet, it pains me to no end seeing how lousy she feels. She’s amazing in that she hasn’t uttered a “this sucks”-type statement yet. Truly a wife of noble character.

Min said not too long ago that they named it “morning sickness” because “sickness” would have been too general. That really cracked me up. Faith normally feels worse come night, anyway. She doesn’t seem to take to sour things that most post-pregnant women swear by.

If you have any pointers that might help, do tell.

Blackmail Material

Before Faith’s parents’ place was undergoing renovations, there was a pretty thorough cleaning effort, and things that should have been forgotten weren’t (insert Lord of the Rings theme song here).

Over the last few nights Faith has been studiously reading through a set of diaries I wrote a lifetime ago. In an attempt to marry her I pulled all the stops: I gave her my past. All the deepest thoughts (you begin to realise how shallow your teenage psyche was), a collage of activities. All encapsulated in two books. The fact that she’s poring through them like she was taking the bar kinda scares me. I can’t for the life of me remember what I wrote then.

I named my diary Faith. I named her Faith because at that time I tknew there was a snowball’s chance in hell that I’d ever get the chance to confide in her, and her in me. I read the first entry of my second diary. I gave away my very first to my best man Eric when we were childhood buddies.

The first entry was spent explaining why I continued to name my diary Faith, and the deep yearning in my heart for us to even be normal friends. I had given up holding the torch for her. At that point in time, it seemed like I had been holding on for three years too many.

I wanted her to just be a friend, but from a quick browsing of the diary it looked like I couldn’t describe her without the word “lovely” being used alongside at least four other adjectives.

Turning myself to face the inside of our bed I see her sleeping. It has been a heck of a ride, and God had really been kind to us both.

To My Sister

Happy 21st Min. If I had things my way, you’d have a fireworks display right outside your window.

Take care of yourself.

Coming Ins and Going Outs

Quite a bit has come and gone, and I have not had the time to blog about it.

Faith’s parents stayed over the whole of last week due to the renovations that are going on in their house. It was nice coming home from work to a family setting. When they left a few days ago, it occurred to me that the house was awfully quiet. It still is. That would probably change once the kid comes along.

Having had a long courtship and more than enough time to talk about what to call our children, we thought we had it all nailed down. If we had a girl, she would be named Anne after Anne Bronté, whose works I once loved so much. If it were a boy Iwe would name him Keith, after Keith Green, whose music has truly pierced both our hearts.

Now I’m not so sure. Anne’s still standing strong up in the ratings, but Min has some apprehensions about Keith, due to some unplesasant experiences with one. Oh well, we have six months more to make a decision. Please, no comments asking us to name our kid after you.

Follow Your Heart

Meg becomes a chef. She speaks the words my heart doesn’t dare whisper, but I find such a striking resemblance to who we both are, and where we both are at.

I studied Management Information Systems at the University of Arizona back in 2000 because my mum casually mentioned that she wouldn’t pay my way if I did English, which would have been something I wanted to do for the longest time in my life. I knew she didn’t mean it, but the fear of not having an “economically viable” job scared me. I loved the word and I liked computers. I guess “like” would just have to do.

If you’ve been reading Tribolum for some time, you’d have concluded that I’m bloody idealistic. I’ve had a few people who left comments, basically telling me to suck it up, and that most people don’t have jobs they like anyway. Even though the words were harsh, they were true.

I just want to be The Catcher in the Rye. Maybe that’s why I identify with Holden Caulfield so much. We know what we want to do, but.

Thanks, Meg, for having the courage to go where many of us dare not tread. Thanks for being an inspiration.


I quit my job at the non-profit. It was a hard decision to make, and many of you will probably think it was the irresponsible one, with the baby coming and all. But I believe I made the right decision.

I’ll be freelancing for a bit, mostly photography and web design. If you have any of projects needing these skills, do contact me.

Go Bill!

Stuck at a newly bought office computer, I discovered that Microsoft Internet Explorer is good for one particular task.

Downloading Mozilla.


During lunch I met someone with whom I lost contact with for many years. She was pushing her sleeping son around in a pram. I didn’t even know that she got married, or what she did.

Where did time go?

Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

I can’t believe I woke up last night thinking of Sliding Faux Columns.

I love it when the subconscious is working, but it scares me sometimes.

Children Dying

Remember what I said about my new pets being my training ground for parenting? And where I said the fish were the first step and the hamster being the next step, progressively getting harder?

I take that back. Fish are very enigmatic.

We used to have eleven neon tetras, along with other fish in the tank. Yesterday we saw one swimming weird. Today he seemed miraculously healed. Or rather, there wasn’t any weird-swimming fish to be found in our tank. A quick demonstration of basic arithmetic concluded that we now had seven neon tetras. There were no remains and no floating fish, but we had somehow managed to lose four of them.

In the other tank that held two redeye (no scientific names at the local petstore), only one was left. Again, absolutely no sign of the other having ever existed.

We are baffled. Much as I would like this to be my foray into being an illustionist, the last thing I need is a missing baby.

The hunt for red eye (and neon tetras) continue.

Je suis en retard

Having children lowers your IQ. It’s not your parents’ fault.

It’s not my fault.


I have a tech problem, and I know a few of your Mac gurus actually pop by every now and then.

So here’s the scenario: I acidentally pulled out my firewire drive while my powerbook was in sleep mode. Now the thing won’t mount.

I’ll be eternaly grateful if you have the solution. It will save me a lot of photos.

Training Ground

When Vernon, Boon Ping, Jonathan and baby Benjamin moved to the States last month, they left us two tanks of freshwater fish and a bag of maternity clothes. Faith was already pregnant then, but we didn’t know.

It began a routine of Saturday fish-tank cleaning and many trips to the pet shop to buy aquatic plants and knick-knacks to decorate the tank. It was a lesson in commitment; the very first step.

It was Teachers’ Day two days ago and Faith was the recipient of a very generous student who gave her a small hamster. It came in a small disposable cup layered with sawdust.

We spent $120 yesterday buying the most spiffy cage, food, toys, bath powder and sawdust. We swelled (ok I swelled) with pride that we were giving Squeaky (we named her after she squeaked) the best.

I stayed up till 2am trying to show Squeaky the ins-and-outs of her new apartment. It features a Penthouse powder bathroom and neon green wheel that actually rotated round on the horizontal plane as well as the vertical. I just had to give Squeaky directions to the amenities.

Continue reading Training Ground »


MT 3.1. Dynamic. About time.

More Powerful Than I

I switched back to Apple because it meant not having to upgrade your computer every six months.

I was wrong.

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