I just feel so anxious to finish les miserables. It's a great book but way too long, that I find myself scanning through words sometimes just coz I wanna be reading other books already. A terrible habit, not being able to keep to one thing for long. I'm glad I'm only left with a quarter of the book to go... Although there is still a whole pile of unread books on my shelves, I feel the urge to go out and purchase these books:

Mud sweat and tears 

Ex libris 

Wrinkle in time 

The Martian 

Go set a watchman 

Look who's back

Odyssey 

Ulysses 

In search of lost time

The book thief 

The Little Paris Bookshop and The Storied Life of AJ Fikry, 

The last bookstore in America 

Surely the list is longer than this but I had forgotten to note down the titles and so they have vanished from my mind.... I wish sometimes that I have photographic memory. 

The balloon

Little Melody went to the fair. It was a wonderful place, littered with Viking ships, roller-coasters, giant Ferris wheel, carnival games, cotton candy, juggling clowns, and beautiful balloons. It was a cool and breezy summer day, the heat wave had just passed, and the days were pushing languidly towards autumn. 

Little Melody was thrilled. She loved rides- the ones where she got to scream her lungs out and feel the blood rush to her head, she loved carnival games-the ones where she threw bean bags at milk bottles and shot at revolving balloons, and most of all, she loved the sweet cloud-like feel of cotton candy on her tongue. 

She held grandpa's hand loosely as she skipped around the fair, trying to decide where to start her fun. A clown with a humongous red nose and shoes walked past little Melody, he was carrying a bunch of glossy red balloons. Little Melody gazed greedily at the balloon. She loved balloons, especially the red ones. The clown smiled at her, and with a flick of his hand, plucked a single red balloon out from the bunch and placed it in little Melody's tiny hand. Little Melody smiled shyly at the clown, mumbled a quiet thank you, and held on tightly to the red balloon. She was afraid the balloon would fly away if she loosened her grip for a second. 

With the balloon in one hand, little Melody walked to the carnival games section, wanting to try her luck at winning a teddy bear.

"5 shots for a dollar!" said the man at the air gun booth. Little Melody searched her pockets for 4 quarters with her left hand, as her right was still gripping tightly to her red balloon. She found the money, picked up the gun and shot at the revolving balloons. She missed all the balloons. She couldn't aim the gun properly with just one hand. little Melody was sore at not winning anything but decided that she would much prefer to take a heart-dropping roller coaster ride than try her hands at silly carnival games. She ran to the queue of the roller coaster but was told by the ticket master than she could not bring the balloon with her if she were to go on the ride. Little Melody made a face and looked as if she was going to cry. She walked out of the queue. She could not leave her balloon behind, not even if it was in the care of grandpa. 

"Who cares for roller coaster rides anyway?" 

At 7:23pm the sun turned amber and painted the fair in a soft, lazy orange glow. By this time, little Melody's sadness had grown to a monstrous proportion. She had been rejected from entering all the rides, she couldn't play the carnival games properly with one hand, her right arm was sore, and her palms were red and angry from gripping the balloon too tightly.

Grandpa and little Melody sat on a wooden bench and little Melody began to cry. Her day at the fair was ruined and she did not have any fun at all but she couldn't let go of the balloon, because it was hers and she loved it. 

Grandpa looked kindly at little Melody. 

"You know sometimes, we have to let go of the things we love, no matter how hard it is. The harder you hold on to something that is not meant to be held, you lose a bit of yourself and then one day, without you knowing it, all of your joy will be devoured. All that will be left then is sadness, emptiness, and a longing of what could have been."

Little Melody looked at grandpa with tears still glistening in her wide blue eyes. 

"I must let balloon go?" She asked. 

Grandpa nodded gently. 

"You will be free to enjoy all the things you love at the fair. Moreover, a balloon is not meant to be tied to anyone's hands. You know what I think? Balloons are at their best when they are flying high above the clouds." Grandpa winked at little Melody as he said this. 

Little melody understood then that one cannot hold on too tightly to anything in this world. One has to learn to let go, even if the heart aches a little at first. 

She loosened her grip on the red balloon,  its string brushed gently across her little palms and the balloon floated slowly into the dusty pink and orange skies. 

Little melody watched the balloon fly higher and higher. Her heart felt a tinge of sadness and joy, joy because the balloon did look like it belonged to the skies, joy because she was now free to enjoy the fair and She no longer had to fear losing the balloon. 

With a leap and a skip, little Melody and grandpa walked hand in hand towards the wonders of the fair. 

The tongue

The tongue is a wretchful thing. Sometimes people justify their malevolent words by saying that they are only being straightforward and honest.

Really? 

I wonder if there might be a tinge of selfishness and meanness to such behavior.

We have to question the real motive behind our "honesty" sometimes.

Is the intention of our brutal honesty for the good of the person? If that is the case, then yes, I think one should be direct and point out a person's misdoing.

Or do we say something negative to someone just because we feel like it and because we think that being straightforward is a commendable trait and we want to be able to pat ourselves on the back for it? 

If your words are meant to bring a person down, then keep them to yourself. 

If we could endeavor to say only words meant to lift a person up, I guess the world may be a better place to be in. 

The Demise of CNY

It's funny how people never stay in one place...the cousin and I were talking about the upcoming CNY and we realized that things are never going to be the same as they were in the past. Our place used to be filled to the brim with people during cny and all the cousins had fun together. And then we grew up, misunderstandings arose, and we grew apart. People harbor bitterness, anger, pride, unwillingness to forgive and forget, embarrassment over what you think people would think of you...relationships become more complicated as we grow older. I think things really started to fray when grandma passed away. I guess when they say "家有一老如有一宝“，it is true Coz the elderlies tend to be the pillars of support that hold a family together. We were wondering if CNY will just cease to happen for future generations if no one makes the effort to preserve it. Probably it will just die in our hands. 

Eating habits

I've never really paid attention to how people eat, only to their speed of eating. I've also never really noticed how I eat. I've been told recently that I tend to assemble my food so that each mouthful has a bit of everything. I thought everyone does that?! 

I think I do this especially when it comes to noodle soup/ramen. 

Wouldn't it be a bit plain if you eat the noodles on its own without the accompaniment of say, a piece of charsiew and some vegetables? 

I had beef noodles yesterday and my ensemble went like this:

Kway teow, broth, beef slice/ball, chilli padi, basil, and onion. It just doesn't taste the same if one item is missing. This is why I always ask for extra basil when I order beef noodles. I think i need to get larger spoons, it can be a little tough sometimes trying to heap so much ingredients onto one tiny spoon. And i also understand now why restaurants always give us ladles for ramen... 

Tracking books

http://www.vox.com/2015/12/29/10634416/reading-list-books?utm_campaign=vox&utm_content=feature%3Afixed&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook

Definitely not something new to track what you read. Wondering if i try it out too or would it be a waste of time? I'm still struggling with the "should I give up on a book halfway" question. It feels like a pity to give up on a book and yet, reading something you don't really feel anything for makes reading a chore and also a waste of time. 

If- Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, 

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, 

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise: 

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster 

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken 

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, 

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools: 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings 

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, 

And lose, and start again at your beginnings 

    And never breathe a word about your loss; 

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew 

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you 

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’ 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, 

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, 

    If all men count with you, but none too much; 

If you can fill the unforgiving minute 

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

The cat on my lap- edited by Callie smith grant

This is like chicken soup for the soul- the cat edition. The stories combined love of cats and faith in God. Some of the stories are nothing short of a miracle. A story about a stray who came to a family but eventually had to be given away, walked 8 miles back to the family. It was then diagnosed with FIP and was advised by the vet to put her down but the family decided to bring her home and see what happens. Turned out that it was a misdiagnosis and the cat thrived. Another story about a family with a cat who ate almost everything in sight and getting into trouble when it ate something that caused intestinal blockage. The family couldn't afford the surgery and the cat would have to be put down if it didn't recover on its own without surgery. The author prayed for God's help. The next day she received a phone call from the vet that he had decided to perform the surgery for free; the cat survived. Another story about a girl of 6 with anorexia who refused to eat. The author then brought a kitten who was not thriving to the girl, and put her in charge of nursing the kitten back to health. With her thoughts on the kitten, the girl began eating so that she would be well enough to take care of the kitten. The girl was eventually cured of her eating disorder. 

Some of the stories brought home the message that pets could well be the ones who take care of us. Like how cats helped the authors through chemotherapy, loneliness, mend broken relationships, etc. 

I felt a tinge of envy when I read stories of sweet cats who would sit in their owners' laps, draped themselves over the owners' shoulders, etc. my cat is a completely different story. He would rather die than sit in my lap or even to sit beside me. The only thing he ever did that came remotely to sweet was sniffing my face in the middle of the night or early morning, or sitting on top of me when I am asleep, and coming to the door when I return home.  Bummer.