My inflight encounter

It was Christmas eve and everyone who ordered wine was politely informed by the air stewardness that they normally do have to pay for alcohol. Since it was a special festive day, it was free, and that after this last Christmas eve flight out of Sydney, the next lot of passengers will need to pay as per usual practice. Those comments were probably unnecessary. I guess some people were about to reach for their wallets anyway but to keep comments to "Yes it's complimentary today" would suffice.

So I happily ordered my complimentary Adelaide Hills chardonnay and laid back into my seat, though I felt slightly robbed of leg room in this Boeing 737 plane for some reason. The man in front of me didn't make things any easier, pushing his chair as far back as the seat would allow him and happily squeaked his chair while caressing his wife/girlfriend/fiance/mistress, whoever she might be. Slightly annoyed, I decided to blast some rock music into my ears while flipping through Qantas's inflight entertainment booklet.

As the plane was about to descend, I felt a slight ringing in my right ear. The change in pressure continued to push against my ear drum and I quickly removed the headset, thinking that I might have self-inflicted some enormous vibration via the headset. Making pretentious yawns and swallowing my saliva down my throat did not ease my suffering, which by this point, I was seriously ready to cry.

Flashbacks of my most painful experience with unbearable-suffocating-pressure-dropping battle emerged before my very eyes as though they were recent. The plane was bound to land in Spain and my ear drums felt like they were going to rupture anytime. No one could help me, no one knew what was I going through, and I cried because of the unbearable pain. Eight years have passed and a second merciless test has come to haunt me. I could only pray. As soon as the wheels hit the runway, the pain started to ease and I quickly continued my ritual big yawns to try and push out the trapped air in my ears. I was still partially deaf an hour later.

My pre-flight rues

One
Carrying my luggage around Sydney for five hours. I had so much time to spare after parking my car at a friend's place that I decided to walk around Sydney. My housemate who tagged along with me offered to share the burden. The bag wasn't heavy at all, but it felt like a tonne of bricks by the minute.

Two
Catching a train from the city to the airport. Let's do the maths.
- Wollongong to Sydney airport - 26 stations 2 hour ride $18.60.
- Sydney central to Sydney airport - 5 stations 10 minute ride $12.
I wonder where the justification for this cost come from.

Three
Flying on Christmas eve night. There was nothing much to do at the airport. I couldn't buy a gossip magazine to read, purchase any sinful snacks to munch on, nor browse through the surf shops - everything was closed. I hate that. To add to my misery, there was no proper Krispy Kreme donut shop at the Qantas departure lounge. All that existed was a tiny makeshift cart, with the cashier about to finish for the day.

Year End Musings

This may or may not be my last entry for the year. I will be flying to Melbourne tomorrow and I should really start packing. As I reflect on the number of journals written over the past year, I wonder if I've left out the simple pleasures of talking with girl friends about the exciting or messy things in life. Blogging has been my primary avenue to pour out feelings, frustrations and occassional gossipping. And I intend to stay that way, unless I get bored of writing and updating the world, as some previously devoted fellow bloggers have done.

Of late, I've been going through an exciting three week period, the heart in worship mode every night. I cannot explain why, something inside is stirring me to praise God and be thankful for what I have and what He's done in my life this year. Nehemiah was the main subject of study in the pastors' sermons for the past few weeks and I felt that I relate so much to what Nehemiah faced when he returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the walls. He faced opposition, both without and within, and never gave up. He prayed the prayer of strength, and that is something I want to hold on to, to boldly ask God for that extra shower of energy and his continued presence in my life.

Another new year is near, and another whole new chapter in life will unfold. Here's wishing everyone a Happy Christmas and a great new year ahead.

Emmanuel
Words and Music by Reuben Morgan

Holy, holy
I will bow before my Lord and King
Hallelujah
You have come to us
You make all things new

Emmanuel, Jesus Christ
You'll never let me go
My Shepherd King
You're watching over me
Emmanuel

So amazing
You have named the stars of the deepest night
Still You love me
You have called my name
I will follow You

Bridge: Holy holy God Almighty, There is none like you

Of bon bon and eucalyptus

I must have sent people frantically googling for "pom pom" in my "Onoj - Part 2" entry.

Walking past some Christmas deco shelves at KMart today doing my last minute Chrissy shopping (or rather just starting), the red and green crackers caught my eye. As I picked up the colourful package, I glanced at the white price tag located on the edge of the shelf. The description read "Christmas Bon Bons". At that point, I realised I had exposed myself to total embarassment on cyberspace for mispelling bon bons. I could not believe how I could get it so wrong - bon bon versus pom pom. They so do not sound alike. Okay, I admit. I didn't know how to spell it, only that I overheard people excitedly exclaiming its name and I thought it was pom pom.

It is true that if you do not know the meaning of a word, you are certainly going to mispell it. I remember in my second year of high school when there was only a guy and myself left in the last round of an interschool Spelling Bee competition. Given the word "eucalyptus", I did not know what it was and totally mispelt it, giving the nerdy looking guy the champions title. Since that time, I hated the word with a mighty passion and avoided any association with it.

Ten years have passed since then, and I repeated my mistake.

Creative Team

I gave hugs and said my goodbyes before leaving the church hall. I had made so many friends in the creative music team that I actually will miss them as I'll only see them again next year. Funny enough, as I reflect on the people whom I've hanged out with the most, it's actually the guys - the drummer, the bass guitarists and the acoustic/electric guitarists. The girls in the choir do come hug you and kiss you on the cheek and all that usual thing, but I haven't really spoken much to them really. Something to add to my new-years-to-do-list.

The year is almost over. I still can't believe that I've been in Wolly for almost one year and I thought I would get through the days with much difficulty. But God has been good. Very good. I can count the many blessings I've received. I hate to list the negative stuff, so I won't go there at all.

My Christmas will be spent in Melbourne and my new year will be enjoyed in Sydney. I can't wait.

Onoj - Part 2

She sat down at the table with her new group of only-just-met girl friends. To her right, there were three seats unoccupied, and two guys gladly joined them leaving the seat next to her empty. He came by the table and sat down next to her. Jokingly she told him that the seat was already taken. "Really?" he exclaimed and proceeded to stand up. Grabbing him by the arm, she shook her head and grinned, and he sat back down.

The pom poms on the table were irresistable. He grabbed his green pom pom and held out the other end to her. Overjoyed, she squeezed that end while he pulled and popped his gift. There was a miniature yellow comb that dropped out and he proceeded to comb his eyebrows with it. Everyone on the table laughed. His antics were exquisite. It was her turn to pop her red pom pom and in return, she held the other end to him. This one was a tough one because it refused to break open. He held her shoulder for more support as she leaned back to stretch her pom pom. A little toy car was inside.

They talked for a while, to her it seemed like forever because she knew more about him now than before. Where he works, what he does, and a little more information about his family. He is such an inspiration. And he invited her to spend Christmas with his family. She was shocked, but politely refused. It was an opportunity that she had to pass, but glad that he extended the invitation.

She loved him even more.

Pre-Chrissy celebs

My church put up a community lunch last Saturday for under priviledged families who otherwise would not be able to afford a decent meal for Christmas. We wanted them to be blessed with good food, great company, and a live Christmas band. The list of songs were pretty funky and tough to coordinate together as a band and with the choir. Who said Christmas carols were easy to play? Let alone Christmas carols Hillsong modified style!

As we were practising our carols on Wednesday, wooden tables and plastic chairs were laid out in the hall. They looked boring. But the next day when we came back for another practice, the place was totally transformed with nice tablecloths, fitting chair covers tied with golden bows, and fresh flowers in vases, all fit for kings and queens.

The invited guests started turning up at 1pm for the buffet. There was a man who arrived without his family, thinking it was a food-readily-packed giveaway session. When he realised he was in for a real treat, he quickly taxied in this family! We had kids programs and a jumping castle at the backyard of the church. Everyone was just having an awesome time.

Later that night, we had a Chrissy party at my cell group leader's house. We ate and stuffed ourselves full. A piece of advice: Try not to laugh too much with a full tummy. You'll have a hard time trying to sleep.

Onoj

She thinks of him at sporadic moments in the day. He's hot, funky, cool, not-so-tall, dark, and handsome. Her type. The emotions go wild everytime he's in sight. Glancing across the room, her eyes catch his. He smiles, and her heart skips a beat. She smiles back. Over the moon. Happy with the two second attention shower.

Her legs go weak, and she still manage to pull herself together. Does he know he magnetizes? How? She doesn't have a clue. The smile is all that matters, something she holds on and thinks of. Dreams are meaningful now, and she remembers.

One day he will make the move. She's confident.

An expensive justification

Should I spend Christmas in sad, pathetic Wolly or fly down to happening, exciting Melbourne where I can see loved ones?

Should I give Wolly a chance for Christmas or fly on very expensive late minute tickets to Melbourne?

Bear with me, please. I'm trying to justify spending $300 for a Syd-Mel return ticket. I'm undecided, as usual.

Cruising Together

We reached King Street Wharf with conflicting memories of which wharf number the ship was parked. With only five minutes before the ship was due to depart, we hurriedly paced our steps towards the end of the deck where I finally saw a familiar figure in a queue of hundreds of middle aged men and women. Another colleague of mine had just made it into the ship as the steps were about to be folded away. He and his wife were led astray by an Indian cabbie driver who pointed towards Circular Quay instead of Darling Harbour.

John Cadman III was smaller than I had expected. With 196 people on board and the capability of carrying 250, the two ship decks looked rather tight for space, with dinner tables lined at the sides and the buffet table placed in the middle of the floor. The observation deck gave the best 360 degrees view of the whole harbour. While it was cruising out, we enjoyed glasses of champagne and chardonnay semillon. It was very romantic, unfortunately my other half resides in Melbourne and totally missed out on this.



The food was excellent, though not spectacular but I certainly enjoyed the fresh oysters, the big tiger prawns, and the juiciest turkey meat I've ever tasted. Seriously. The dessert was a little let down with only fruit cakes to offer and fresh fruit platters. Somehow I was hungry for a chocolate mud cake. That craving disappeared when we alighted the ship and instead adjourned to James Squire for some drinks. The other popular lounges were totally sardine-packed with hyper Saturday night party animals. As we were about to take a ten-seater table, the waitress who was cleaning the table informed us that the indoor tables were only for restaurant goers and not for customers just wanting to order drinks. My colleague politely asked her to look around if she could locate any vacant picnic tables outside. She glanced quickly and nodded her head for us to sit down. Who has dinner at 11pm at Circular Quay anyway?

We stayed the night at a friend's place at The Rocks, with a little window shoppping the next day and some good laksa at a Malaysian restaurant. I guess this serves as preparation for a food frenzied galore when I return to Malaysia next month for a well-earned holiday.

Unfortunately not all weekends that start out nice end out nice. I returned to my car to find a piece of paper stuck under my wipers. It was an infringement note for parking overtime. We had forgotten to check the parking signs, assuming that the park-all-day-for-free area applied to the adjacent lot that we normally do park the car for endless hours. After a very expensive cruise, we had copped a very expensive fine.

EMA

I was watching the European MTV Awards with total embarassment and disbelief. The unknown host, Barat, was just an absolute shocker, with limited vocabulary and grammatically wrong English sentences. I wonder if he was really meant to look and talk like a fool. He even introduced Coldplay as Green Day and vice versa. Hello?!

Madonna opened the night with a raunchy sexy Hung Up song (urgh!), with lots of out-of-tune notes and tired words. Must be age that's catching up. Isn't it not surprising that Best Female went to Shakira and Best Male went to Robbie Williams? Duh. At least Green Day won Best Album and Best Rock.

No dentists, please.

I was reading one of Soph's blog entries and it reminded me of my four crooked teeth on my lower front. Many people in the past have given compliments about how white and how straight my teeth are. I kid you not! They wished they had these set of teeth. If only they knew.

Everytime I smile, my lower lips cleverly cover the bottom row and my upper front teeth hide the chaotic-looking slightly blemished teeth, each fighting for that little bit of space. To add to my despair, all four of my wisdom teeth are still alive and well. Two of them are sitting comfortably upstairs, while the other two culprits downstairs are at a slight angle, contributing to the mass teeth jam in front.

How come an apple a day doesn't keep the dentist away?

And how come an apple a day doesn't keep pimples away? I have three zits on my face, mainly due to stress and working late I think. Monday I left work at 6.30pm, Tuesday I left the office still with unfinished urgent jobs at 10pm, Wednesday I left at 7pm after being told what I was doing could be done by a large photocopy-and-fold equipment, and today my manager told me I need not do overtime.

I have two days to wipe these pimples off my face before going on a company cruise along the harbour. Do invisible hide-those-ugly-zits creams exist? I simply do not know.

Mr Loner no more

I remember a previous journal entry I wrote about a grumpy-loner-don't-care-who-you-are late fifties mechanical engineer who didn't seem to know I existed. The only time I hear him speak more than three words is when he approaches my colleagues to delegate some electrical related work. Other than that, it was just mere words that consisted of "Hi" and "Hey" and no names attached to it after that.

I also remember hoping a thousand years that I will never work on the same project as him. If that happens, the heavens will fall and the earth will crumble, unable to handle the frustration that I may have trying to fit in or squeeze out information from him, eventually portraying myself as "less educated". I hate to look silly.

Guess what. I've been delegated as the electrical resource for his project, simply because everyone else is busy with their own work and my boss thought this would be a good experience for me to work on a multi-discipline project. After a brief description of the project, my boss left my desk and instructed me to have a chat with Mr. Loner, whose desk is tucked away in a corner in the far end room of the hall. I decided to send him an email instead to initiate the meeting, though it's probably easier, in all mechanical sense, to walk over to his desk and introduce myself as the unfortunate resource he has to deal with.

Surprisingly, he was quite a chirpy fellow throughout the whole discussion, even calling each of our team leaders/bosses "parasites" because we also have to include them as part of the resource on the project. Most of the time, they won't be involved. Those are just extra hours they can charge their admin work hours to. After an hour of explaination, descriptions and some blank stares, I left his room with shocked yet relief feelings. He ain't that bad after all. After this discussion, I still have not heard my name mentioned at all when we greet each other at the hallway. It must be too hard to pronounce. Alright, I forgive him. Some people end up calling me "Sue" anyway and that's the worst thing ever! I used to kick myself everytime I intro myself as "Sue" when talking to customers or suppliers over the phone. Guess I've learnt to accept the fact that it's much easier and quicker to get things done that way. Let's just hope it's not a permanent thing. It would be a major catastrophe if my mind slipped and I signed off documents as "Sue". Argh!

Just today he approached a process engineer who sits next to me. There is a cubicle-like barrier in between us so that we don't peek at what each other is up to at the desk. It sounded like he now needed a process dude on the project to help out. My ears pricked up when I heard my name mentioned as being the other project member. Hah! So he does know my name, in full, and I wasn't eavesdropping. Cheeky bugger.

The day I did overtime

9.30am there was a power cut. I was halfway typing a social email to a colleague. Down the hall, I could hear the frustration of the mechanical drafter because he hadn't saved his work. A couple of minutes later, emergency sirens filled the air and from our windows, we saw one, two, no three fire trucks turned in, reported at the guard house and proceeded past our sights. Something big must have happened. Somewhere. Moments later, a hazardous materials fire team truck also arrived. Busybodies started making phone calls to find out what happened.

9.45am apparently a circuit breaker caught fire. Can be a reliable rumour. I don't care, I had hoped the power surge would continue such that it was impossible for most of us to do any work. Some of the guys were preparing to play office cricket. So far no one had come to tell us to evacuate.

10.00am power was restored. Sigh, back to work.

8.00pm and I was still in the office, finally packing to leave. I wasn't sure if I was fortunate or unfortunate to be in the office round about 4.30pm when everyone had scooted off after the monthly department meeting that ended at 4pm. I usually take off as well but somehow I decided to return to the office, hoping to do an hour of research on my job. In walked my boss and he hurriedly asked me to help out to locate some drawings for an urgent analysis of the explosion that happened this morning. Explosion? Geez cool stuff. The main distribution board of one of the mills had exploded and because they were oil circuit breakers, they caught fire pretty quickly. A lot of equipment were damaged and production will be down for a few days.

I foresee that our share price will drop again. This has been the second fire in the space of three months, the first being in our Victorian plant. Thankfully, no one was injured when this happened. This has really caused me to rethink my environment that my job requires me to be in. I'm surrounded by hazardous materials, poisonous gasses, high voltage equipment, the list goes on. Will I remain here for long? It's getting scarier by the day.