work it

I feel really bad, I am a really bad girl.  This is a worse feeling than regretting over having an outburst at someone.

This is a feeling of knowing that I have disappointed other colleagues in my work due to my poor discipline.

I am deeply embarrassed, for being less than professional.  I have many reasons and causes for my lack of preparedness in these pieces of music, but they are lousy - a musician will always find a way to be prepared no matter how horrible her schedule is.

So I gotta have a plan, a working plan for all my homework for the Bach, the Mozart, the Vivaldi....and work it.

I have to work it, hard.

To prevent this awful awful feeling in the next rehearsal.

What it means

I used to think that I was living it all for him, for the meaning of what life meant to be half of this unit, the unit that was made up of Justin, and Janet.

Life = whatever that is Janet + Justin put together = a perfect combination of imperfection in harmony

He had many roles outside of our world, the best friend to his pals, the CEO, the good biker, the grandson, the brother, the good son.  But I think all that meant more than that because he had me.

And in my corner I was the noisy girl, the best friend to my best friend, the sing-song girl, the fashion girl, the flea market girl, foul-mouthed girl...and all that meant more than what they were because I was also his girl.

So now what, now am JUST a singer, a noisy girl (occasionally), flea market girl (once in a long while now).  Sigh.  Hmm, at least for Thursday, I am almost her whole world now.

Is a life only better and fuller because one is needed?  When one is needed?

It's not always bad, I only feel like this about a few times a week.  My solution is distraction.  Work still make me feel good, reading still does me good.  I find I enjoy solitude a little more than I think it's healthy...but what is healthy?  Sometimes perhaps it's just the music I listen to when am alone, too melancholic.

He and I both agreed that there is no meaning in life that needs figuring out.  Life is what we make of it.  In these times I find myself searching for it, amongst the crowded schedule of errands, appointments, singing, planning, driving around, cleaning, sorting, crying, laughing, reading...

Because I didn't realise that I didn't need a meaning of life because I always had him there, at the end of my day, giving me the VERY meaning of my life.

What meaning of life do you need when you have a soul mate who was your noon, morning, evening, dusk, black, white, evil, good, silly, lover, brother and best friend?

You don't.

I didn't.

Until I find it again, I will just get busy, collecting some happiness in little wonderful things like reading a good book, listening to someone tells me I sang good.

Or help someone helpless.

Letter eighty-five - Day one-hundred-and-thirty-seven of your vacation

Dearest J,

Susheela told me she watched an interview on TV the other day, of Janet Jackson, talking about her coping with her brother's departure.  Janet says that she is now at a stage where she focuses on being happy.

I think of you often on the days when I don't write here.  Now I remember not too long back I told Nell that I was through with mourning but I find myself, more often than I had expect, sit around and feeling like shit missing you.  I cleared out your wardrobe in the study last week, and re-organise a few things around.  Packed your socks and underwear, and your white shirts.  Wasn't easy, but necessary, I know, it is part of my journey.

Speaking of Janet Jackson focuses on being happy, show you here a few shots of happiness.

pics by Callista, Feb 7th, 2011

Had a bad fall at audition on Tuesday, sprained my left ankle.  Was on doctor's painkiller and the following night I had a dinner show, I did the dance routine with my back-up dancers as rehearsed, no pain.  The swollen foot was covered under my fishnet stockings and inside my low heel Latin heels.

The clients were happy, I was happy.

Not so good for the foot that needed rest.  Here's a picture from the gig...

pic by Brandon Lim

The swell has gone down a little today.  I slept with the food rested on three pillows, greater height elevation helped.  I stayed in whole of today and mostly work on my desk with my left foot on the table. Fed myself with my leftover pasta salad.

Just spoke to Mama on the phone.  Told her am nursing the foot at home.  She said there were four tables of guests at her birthday lunch on Tuesday.  She said she and gang went to visit you today at the park, with Aunty Alcie and Aunty SeeMing.

Finally booked a slot to record a new batch of demos.  This month should have been the month for my project of a tribute concert for you, to debut the song I wrote for you...it's not quite done and there is no concert.  I will make sure the song see day light one day ok.

Ok, on with the night.  Work some more, shower, eat, read (am at final part of The Fountainhead, it's so exhilarating) and put my foot up.  Am good.

This little movie here, is you, and I.




Love you always,

B

Letter eighty-four - Day one-hundred-and-thirty-two of your vacation

Dearest J,

Am listening to this song titled Chloeitchka, from Fung Chern Hwei's album From The Heart.  Piano & strings, no vocals.  I like it very much, I told a few friends that this song would be my choice for my funeral music.

Thursday has been here since Nov 17th, it's date I remember better than other `important dates' like people's birth dates.  By next week Thursday, February 17th, it would turn three months, Thursday and I.  And for your departure, four months plus sixteen days.

Love,

B

Letter eighty-three - Day one-hundred-and-twenty-eight of your vacation

Dearest J,

Now I know time is a relative thing.  I remember one of your favourite quote is Einstein's,

Sit next to a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. Sit on a red-hot stove for a minute, it seems like an hour.  That's relativity.

I asked myself if not having you next to me for over 127 days is a long time or a short time...I have no answer.  I touched the crisp white pressed shirts that still hang in your wardrobe and smell them, I smelled your old bike jacket next to the shirts.  I sit down coolly and think,  this is confusing, it feels like a century since you've been gone - at the same time it feels like it was just yesterday since I kissed you goodbye as you left for your Ulu Yam ride.

Some days I have it good.  Some days I just muddle through a sea of dark clouds, feeling listless and meaningless.  I know, every minute I spend decided to go on, it's a battle won.  On a bad day, I give myself the patience of staying on to continue to gather more reasons to breathe.

My letters are getting less and less regular, am hoping that I will not force myself to sit down just to write to you and find myself writing rubbish.

This morning the scanner stopped working, I spent an hour trying to troubleshoot, finding possible solutions on the net.  No hope.  I left for dance class.  Came home to continue.  Now that I don't have you around to be my tech support, I want to be more self-sufficient.  Zal made me call the tech centre for Epson finally.  16-minute conversation later, I had some results but still no scanner working.  They said it's to do with a new iMac software update, so now I wait for a patch to come in to fix this scanner situation.

Had a nice time hanging out with Mama at dinner.  Every time I go over to listen to her talk while I lie on the bed in the guest room, I get so comfortable that I never feel like leaving.  She is still coughing.  I told her that she's taking forever to get well because she misses you a great deal.

It's so late now.  Am going to get some rest now.

Miss you much,

B

Letter eighty-two - Day one-hundred-and-twenty-three of your vacation

Dearest J,

Went to your house today with my parents & sister.

Your mom gave me my ang pow and smiled, "Find a new boyfriend." ....I don't remember what were her exact words but you get the message la.  She hopes I find a new boyfriend soon I think.

I don't know which is harder, to find a boy I like here, or to meet someone who will like me for me here...or to actually imagine that one day come soon when I would stop comparing people to you.

Anyway, you will be glad to know that....actually, am glad to know that am in no rush to find that person.  Mostly because I have never rated this city as a great place to meet good people, for that purpose.

Started reading The Fountainhead a few days ago, I was reading it day and night in Taiping.  One of those great reads that make me stop in the pages for breathes, and to recover I needed to sip water.

There was a lot of news on TV about road accidents.  I was reading the book while mom watched the news at sister's.  We saw a few bodies lying lifeless next to vehicles on TV.  Mom turned to me and asked me about you.

I just told her flatly that I wasn't there when you fell so I don't know the details.

Sigh, I remember how I used to annoy you with my endless queries about useless details and trivial,  you used to tell me they don't matter.  Now I can truly appreciate whenever I get asked about the detail of your accident.

This time this year, am serious about taking up meditation.  I will call TP's brother to get details about his meditation class on Mondays.

Going to do some music work now before I call it a night.  Tomorrow morning parents go to Singapore and am having a packed day with social events: a yu-shang lunch gathering and a house dinner party.

Am so happy am reading a book the way I am now, hungrily.

Miss you,

B

Letter eighty-one - Day one-hundred-and-twenty-three of your vacation

Dearest J,

There's a strange kind of wind here.

My parents are here, they like Thursday.  They are quite amused by her.

A very good singer passed away two days ago, heart attack.

It's going to be a very busy season, in more than one way.

Love you,

B