Youngest kid of six with an inferiority and black sheep complex, but determined that God saves not just his soul to heaven but the remainder of his manic-depressive life, so others won't say he became a Christian and remained a jerk.
i won't be transparent before i'm opaque. and you'll get to know me starting from the small things: who my favourite bands are. what kind of movies i like. who are my heroes.
I’m convinced that when confronted with sincere, real love, the Jesus factor will become obvious. But let’s not plant the cross before we carry it. I’m not trying to con you.
Some dreams are meant to be achieved. I know that. But maybe other dreams are meant to drive us, privately. Never known to anyone but ourselves.
It is a sadness that, when choosing between crying and sighing, will choose sighing. I'd almost say that melancholy is being sad about sadness itself.
On memory and nostalgia
It saddens me when life moves forward and people decide that certain things are worth forgetting.
I've learnt that the word irregardless is filed as a non-standard word in the English language. That's a lexicographer's way of saying it's not a real word.
Crowds are fickle things. So when we stand in the thousands and cry against the present government, do we know who we're actually crying for?
People always want the best for themselves. But I want to sometimes take second or third or fourth best, just so that the loser down the road doesn't always have to come in last. It must feel like shit to always come in last.
On growing old
Leasehold property make me feel sad. It doesn't matter how old the family photos are that you put on your wall. It's your family but it's not really your wall.
I ask you, if God loves everyone, and if God is also incapable of loving evil, how can there be such a thing as an evil man?
On a daily basis
One line quips, like this.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
ON WHAT YOU DO: JOB DESCRIPTION
For someone who enjoys talking as much as I do, I really don't like to give people too much details about what I do. I don't think they're interested enough. Take for example one of Chinese new year's top questions: what do you do?
I could go on about how I work in a production center for a global publisher of legal, tax and employment text. I tell them that we have our regional head office in Sydney and that I serve the Australian market, and that we are a huge production center, boasting more than 150 headcount. Jargon jargon jargon. I don't like to tell people all this. I much prefer to translate all of that into something that my listener will understand. I give them the simplest possible answer because I really don't think they care so much.
So this past few days, I've been pulling out my usual job description, which goes something like this: I'm a subeditor. You know when a lawyer refers to all these books and journals to do research? I'm the guy who makes sure the English there is alright.
Not entirely accurate, seeing as (1) we don't just serve lawyers, (2) we don't really do journals, and (3) we don't just clean up the English. But really, do they look like they care? Usually no. which leaves me happy enough to cap the dialogue on jobs right there and then, so the both of us can move away from the small talk and sink our teeth into the next bit of brainless exchange.
Oh, and yes. if you never knew what I do for a living, yeah. I do that.
Labels: language, society
7:32 pm ]