Why aren’t kids made from Play-doh?

I might be an anti-men (generally) and anti-marriage bigot, but I do love kids from the bottom of my poor heart. The fact that men and marriage are the only politically-correct requisites for having kids of my own (apart from a working reproductive system, of course) pains me.

On a happier note, Thai kids have such funky hairstyles. And I so love their stubby little arms, fat little legs, bright little eyes and chubby little cheeks. They loll around pavements on their little diaper-wrapped bottoms, watched lovingly by proud parents and envious, cooing strangers. I have not seen a single Thai kid with a PSP/Nintendo in hand and am determined never to buy one of those malicious gadgets for my kid. Kids should run on the grass and play in the mud, not stare spellbound into cold, isolating, life-sapping machines.

*Aww* Fat little ball of joy! Spotted: Jatujak Market, Krungtheb.

We saw such a lot of cute children’s clothes; so much so that we started to toy with the ‘buy now, give birth later’ idea. I’m glad sanity prevailed. But the fact that my father has already gleefully reserved household items for “his grandchildren’s use” remains. The fear that I won’t be able to fulfill my parents’ wishes for “as many grandchildren as possible” is starting to haunt, even when I am (an anti-men, anti-marriage bigot) aged just 21.


The weather is attempting to murder me, lor.

A Primary 2 girl gave me 2 drawings she did, which took me by surprise,  because all I did that day was prance round the classroom like a newly-escaped tigress who lost her cubs. I absolutely breached international safety guidelines for bad vibes emission. She even gave me a little hug before she went home!

I think her drawing of me looks uncannily like me.

They like to give me drawings and I find it so sweet. Some more drawings by students:

Hmm decipher the meaning of this one? Cat will evolve into dog/pig, and then elephant, and nothing’s left in the end except a foot print.

By Jayde, who’s a very sweet girl with the best manners.

By Drago, who’s my friend Cleopatra’s brother! He’s only 8 this year. He’s also very well-mannered and never fails to greet me.

Maybe I shd send future kids to drawing lessons so they’ll all be well-mannered.

Of potatoes and kids

Went jogging for the first time in years today. I didn’t die. Guess I can do it again tomorrow. If I manage to shed my couch potato ways the Health Promotion Board should name me as its spokesperson.

But blah, I found to my horror that I can no longer cycle. After a night’s deliberation, I tried at my void deck, constantly embarrassed by the presence of passers-by. I still ram into walls. Not being able to cycle at the ripe old age of 21 is a joke. And I thought it’s one of those skills that never leave you once you’ve acquired it. I’m sad. I only jogged as it seemed a waste not to, since I was already perspiring from ramming into walls.

My sense of adventure (however warped) is inspired by the travelogue of Zhang Su Li, titled “A Backpack and A Bit Of Luck – stories of a traveller with no sense of direction”. Borrowed it yesterday and couldnt put it down. I simply need to do something with my life instead of vegetating into manure. Even manure has a use. I need to go out and happen to things, instead of waiting for things to happen to me.

Been teaching. Kids are so unconditioned by the evils of society they break my heart. The way they look at me, it’s as if they are giving their heart and soul to me whole, despite me being such a meanie teacher. A boy asked me to taste his handmade Filipino kueh. And he said:

“May I tell you something, Miss Poh?

“Yes” (sweetly- how can I not be sweet to him!?)

“Do you want me to tell you how to make it?”

“Didn’t you already tell me just now?”

“But do you still remember?”

“Uhh.. no…” (he totally rambled in his Filipino-accented English. I was so amused I didn’t really register anything!)

“Ok, I write down for you!”

And so I got:


It’s high time I abstain from blogging. An imaginary blog exists in my brain and I post entries there at least 20 times a day.


my tuition kid gave me a hard time today. i get that experience most prolly due to many conditions:

  1. my PMS
  2. his exam stress
  3. my work stress
  4. my non-existent fragile attachment to this job

exams tomoro, but he refused to cooperate. i said things like “im very busy now you know. i can just stop coming. if you dont want to pay attention why should i continue teaching you?”

he was repentant/hurt/sad, on the brink of tears. i was losing patience. and i dont care much about keeping this job anyway, since i cant cope; what with my internship and 2 other tuition kids.

it was really intense. i was pricked by some things he said. he was pricked by things i said too. i told his mum i cant continue this, with my punishing schedule and his reluctance to cooperate. luckily she was really nice.

and while i was meditating after i got home (high blood pressure lah, must cool down), he called me and said he was “sorrwy” he “said the wrong things….”

aww. and meditation really helped calm me down. luckily it did, or else i may end up saying things to hurt him again over the phone.

it can get quite difficult to extricate myself from situations like this, when ive already devoted much time and effort and emotions to fellow humans.

and it sucks like this. i cant bring myself to abandon him. yet the situation really calls for me to abandon stuff. let go of certain commitments. i feel bad. but i know i cant go on piling duties on myself when my battery strength remains the same.

i feel quite bad, too, for being harsh to him. i didnt say sorry. but i wished him good luck for exams and asked him to work hard. i wish i could communicate with kids better, not like the parents in Cheong Suk Wai’s sunday times column. i love her column.

the kid’s really a 30 yr old stuck in a 9 year old body. and i realise i cant really communicate with him, unlike my other kid. he’s a kid-kid, not kid-adult. he says funny and innocent things to make me laugh out loud. he worries about not catching his tv show.

the other guy says morbid and dark stuff to make me worry. he speaks truths with his puckered-up lips, brows furrowed. truths that remind me of the real adult world outside, not the sanctuary of the nursery we are in. he says stuff like “you come here for the money only what!” that really got me.

it’s half true, anyway.

hooper and kingshaw.

whatever it is, i just wish the little guy’s unhappiness and its causes would be alleviated and ultimately cleared. i dont want to see him so unhappy, yet add on to his suffering. i dont know, but it’s painful. maybe im worrying too much. but all kids should just be allowed to be kids. i need to ask laolao how to make him interested in studying.