Before I start my ranting for the day, let me just give a huge shout out to my brother Lance who is celebrating his 27th birthday today. Wishing him success, health and wealth...!
Today's topic is about assuming the worst, about being negative.
Here's what triggered this topic: a friend of mine recently told another friend that she was too fat for her height, and "humbly" suggested that the friend go on a diet and try to loose 20-25 pounds, otherwise no guy would want her. I've spoken about weight before, and this has nothing to do with the actual weight problem. The issue is more to the fact that my friends and I who were sitting at the same table listening in on the conversation were confused. Did my friend (let's call her Kate)actually say that because she was genuinely concerned about my other friend's (let's call her Ann) weight and guy problems or was she just trying to be mean? Can't deny the fact that Kate can be a b***h when she needs to (pardon the language!). My friends and I looked at each other around the table, then one by one started criticizing Kate for her weight comment, and she got upset because she said she was just really concerned that Ann was a bit on the heavy side.
Honestly, I look back at that conversation and how we reacted as friends, and I am embarrased. Why did I think the worst of Kate? Why did I immediately assume that Kate was just being mean or hurtful, instead of thinking she was genuinely concerned that Ann was a bit too heavy for her own good (and by this I mean for health reasons). For the record, I personally don't think Ann needs to lose 25 pounds! But that's not the point, the point is why was it easier to assume Kate was just being cruel instead of being genuine?
As human beings, it's often so much easier to just assume the worst about everything: about people, about situations, about just about anything. Like when your boss suddenly calls your extension and asks you to go up and see him, and the entire way there, you are thinking "Oh my God, he's going to fire me." Or when you try and call your boyfriend ten times and he doesn't answer, and you automatically think he's dodging your calls because he's bored with you. Another one that is most familiar to me is when I walk into a room and people stop talking, and I automatically think they were talking about me. They probably were, but again, that's not the point.
So why is it so difficult to think of the best instead of the worst? Why is being positive so challenging, and negativity seems to just be woven in our brain cells?
I'd like to think that I am a person who can objectively see things from different perspectives, thus leave no room for negativity. But evidently, I'm not, even though I try really hard to be. Being positive is supposed to make life so much easier, but it's so difficult to even try to be positive. What's that all about?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The View From Outside
At the risk of sounding cliche, people really do judge a book by its cover; they make assumptions and comment on things they only see on the outside, without even bothering to know what goes on on the inside.
Case in point: when I recently posted on my twitter that I'd be leaving for Paris again, I got more than a few remarks, all along the lines of: 'You're so lucky to be traveling all the time!' and 'What a fancy jet-setter!' These were comments made by friends, family members, and people I don't even know but have been following my twitter updates. (Btw, I appreciate my followers' comments!)
I always find it quite hilarious how people always think that I have the best job in the world. They think that because I travel and work in fashion, that I live this glamorous life filled with shopping, partying, mingling with A-list crowds and just basically having the time of my life. This is what they think they see from the outside: I go to Paris, Switzerland, Singapore, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and a few other places for work all the time. I host a series of events (cocktails, dinners, exhibitions) locally, I get featured in some local magazines sometimes, and I get to meet some important and interesting people (e.g. Ronan Keating, F1 drivers Mark Webber and David Coulthard, Jay Kay of Jamiroquai, Louis Koo/Hong Kong film star, and the list continues).
And while all of those facts are true, they're missing some things too. Here's what they don't see: I sit in economy for long haul flights and have neck pain every time I travel. I skip a lot of meals because my meetings run so long and everyone in the industry doesn't seem to need to eat. When I travel, I mostly see the inside of a hotel conference room, meeting room or showroom - and that's about it. Even at this very moment, I am in my hotel room trying to catch up on 317 emails that I missed while I was on the 13 hours flight from Singapore to Paris. I stand on my feel in super high heels during all the events/cocktails/dinners/exhibitions and can't feel my toes by the time I go home (which is most likely past midnight). I have to work twice as hard as everyone because of all the traveling because the day-to-day work back home keeps on going even when I'm not around. And, the last thing that seems to be invisible even though it's the whole point my existence: I travel so much I miss important milestones in my children's lives. And friends, that really really sucks.
I find it so hilarious that I can't contain my laughter every single time someone tells me they think I have the best job in the world, simply because I get to travel the globe. What was even more funny was the fact that someone thought I earned a mega-huge salary in Euros. Hah! I wish!
Look, don't get me wrong. I don't hate my job. Not at all - I would have stayed 10 years if I hated it. It's just not the all fun and fancy like people think it is. A lot of hard work goes into everything we do, and not forgetting that a lot of sacrifices are made to do these things too. So it's not just all fun and games. Trust me, it's not all wine-and-dine, partying and jet-setting around the world. It's exhausting, tyring, just like any other job. Sure, there are perks... But don't let the perks fool ya. It's still a tough job to do...
So once in awhile, instead of always focusing on talking about the glamour part of my job, I wish people would talk a bit about just how hard I work, how much effort I put in in trying to be the very best at my job, and every now and then discuss how crappy I feel everytime I have to leave my kids behind. Can't hurt to at least try it out.
Case in point: when I recently posted on my twitter that I'd be leaving for Paris again, I got more than a few remarks, all along the lines of: 'You're so lucky to be traveling all the time!' and 'What a fancy jet-setter!' These were comments made by friends, family members, and people I don't even know but have been following my twitter updates. (Btw, I appreciate my followers' comments!)
I always find it quite hilarious how people always think that I have the best job in the world. They think that because I travel and work in fashion, that I live this glamorous life filled with shopping, partying, mingling with A-list crowds and just basically having the time of my life. This is what they think they see from the outside: I go to Paris, Switzerland, Singapore, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and a few other places for work all the time. I host a series of events (cocktails, dinners, exhibitions) locally, I get featured in some local magazines sometimes, and I get to meet some important and interesting people (e.g. Ronan Keating, F1 drivers Mark Webber and David Coulthard, Jay Kay of Jamiroquai, Louis Koo/Hong Kong film star, and the list continues).
And while all of those facts are true, they're missing some things too. Here's what they don't see: I sit in economy for long haul flights and have neck pain every time I travel. I skip a lot of meals because my meetings run so long and everyone in the industry doesn't seem to need to eat. When I travel, I mostly see the inside of a hotel conference room, meeting room or showroom - and that's about it. Even at this very moment, I am in my hotel room trying to catch up on 317 emails that I missed while I was on the 13 hours flight from Singapore to Paris. I stand on my feel in super high heels during all the events/cocktails/dinners/exhibitions and can't feel my toes by the time I go home (which is most likely past midnight). I have to work twice as hard as everyone because of all the traveling because the day-to-day work back home keeps on going even when I'm not around. And, the last thing that seems to be invisible even though it's the whole point my existence: I travel so much I miss important milestones in my children's lives. And friends, that really really sucks.
I find it so hilarious that I can't contain my laughter every single time someone tells me they think I have the best job in the world, simply because I get to travel the globe. What was even more funny was the fact that someone thought I earned a mega-huge salary in Euros. Hah! I wish!
Look, don't get me wrong. I don't hate my job. Not at all - I would have stayed 10 years if I hated it. It's just not the all fun and fancy like people think it is. A lot of hard work goes into everything we do, and not forgetting that a lot of sacrifices are made to do these things too. So it's not just all fun and games. Trust me, it's not all wine-and-dine, partying and jet-setting around the world. It's exhausting, tyring, just like any other job. Sure, there are perks... But don't let the perks fool ya. It's still a tough job to do...
So once in awhile, instead of always focusing on talking about the glamour part of my job, I wish people would talk a bit about just how hard I work, how much effort I put in in trying to be the very best at my job, and every now and then discuss how crappy I feel everytime I have to leave my kids behind. Can't hurt to at least try it out.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A Special Boy
Did I ever mention that my son has speech delay?
Yeah, well, he does.
Matthew is five years old now, and will be turning six in May. It's a miracle he's even around actually, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining about his speech delay or about him being small and underweight.
See, Matthew was born prematurely at 33 weeks, weighing slightly less than 2 pounds. He was an IUGR baby - which means that he wasn't growing in the womb. No one really knows why, the OB/GYN just said there may have been blood clotting the umbilical cord so he wasn't getting food (I was, and I gained so much weight it freaked me out). When he was born, he was so tiny, and the NICU doctor said he had a 50/50 chance of survival. They had to test everything: lungs, heart, brain, blablabla. But he was breathing on his own so the doctor said the chances were good. After 24 hours, they told me he would be fine and just had to catch up on growth. They also told me he would most likely have one or two delays, being premature and all. At the time, I just thought, yeah, whatever, as long as he's alive.
Well, he's definitely alive!
More than alive, he's extremely smart, talented, and he is such a well-behaved little boy. He can be cheeky at times, but hey, he's a five year old kid, it's expected!
When he was three, he was already doing puzzles for six year old kids. He draws better than me (OK, I suck at drawing so that probably doesn't count), and he has photographic memory. He remembers everything! He knows the route from home going to the mall, to my office, to his school - he remembers everything. In fact, I think the only reason he's doing so good in school (spelling tests, etc) is because he memorizes things. He's also so happy all the time. He's always smiling, laughing and the sparkle in his eyes makes me forget about all the bad things that happen in life: a bad day at work, a really nasty customer, sickness, whatever. One look at him and I can literally feel the negativity float away.
And, he's a really good big brother too. He is protective of her and always remembers to get her stuff when just the three of us (me, hubby and him) go to the mall without my daughter. He'd be all "Mama, buy this for Kaela!". It's so sweet it makes me tear up.
The thing is, this year all his friends will be starting 1st grade, and while we'd love for him to go to primary school too, it seems like there aren't a lot of schools out there who can accommodate his needs, and with his language and speech problem, it seems like he may have difficulty going to a normal school.
Over the past few weeks, my husband and I have been in a constant debate (not with each other - just with the options). Do we let him stay back another year and hope he catches up? Will he be OK being the only 7 year old in the class? (around here nowadays, people always go to 1st grade at the age of 6).
If we don't make him stay back, will he be too stressed out in school because he'll have a hard time in class? Will his friends make fun at him in class? Will a school even accept him with his speech problems? A million questions pop through our minds every second, and we can't seem to feel comfortable with ANY answer at this point. It seems like every option has some sort of negative impact so we can't feel like we're one hundred percent sure with what we decide.
Geez, being a parent really sucks sometimes.
So anyway, what we've been doing the past week is just trying to approach the schools one by one, asking if they can accommodate our special boy. We started out with a long list of schools, and I think we've crossed out all but 4 after speaking with them. I'll be calling the 3 schools tomorrow, and the 1 school has already said they can accept him, but it'll cost my husband and I an arm, a leg and a few other body parts, meaning that private school costs the same as 3 years of my college tuition. My husband says inflation, I say rip-off.
The only thing we can do right now is just pray. I guess, if we reach the bottom of the list with zero results, it must mean he's meant to stay back this year. But you know what, I'm hopeful. My boy has beaten the odds before, it's not impossible that he can do it again.
I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying to just stay grateful that he's even alive. I'm trying to keep my focus on the fact that he's such a healthy, wonderful, well-behaved, generous, kind and funny little boy. And that should be enough. Right?
Yeah, well, he does.
Matthew is five years old now, and will be turning six in May. It's a miracle he's even around actually, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining about his speech delay or about him being small and underweight.
See, Matthew was born prematurely at 33 weeks, weighing slightly less than 2 pounds. He was an IUGR baby - which means that he wasn't growing in the womb. No one really knows why, the OB/GYN just said there may have been blood clotting the umbilical cord so he wasn't getting food (I was, and I gained so much weight it freaked me out). When he was born, he was so tiny, and the NICU doctor said he had a 50/50 chance of survival. They had to test everything: lungs, heart, brain, blablabla. But he was breathing on his own so the doctor said the chances were good. After 24 hours, they told me he would be fine and just had to catch up on growth. They also told me he would most likely have one or two delays, being premature and all. At the time, I just thought, yeah, whatever, as long as he's alive.
Well, he's definitely alive!
More than alive, he's extremely smart, talented, and he is such a well-behaved little boy. He can be cheeky at times, but hey, he's a five year old kid, it's expected!
When he was three, he was already doing puzzles for six year old kids. He draws better than me (OK, I suck at drawing so that probably doesn't count), and he has photographic memory. He remembers everything! He knows the route from home going to the mall, to my office, to his school - he remembers everything. In fact, I think the only reason he's doing so good in school (spelling tests, etc) is because he memorizes things. He's also so happy all the time. He's always smiling, laughing and the sparkle in his eyes makes me forget about all the bad things that happen in life: a bad day at work, a really nasty customer, sickness, whatever. One look at him and I can literally feel the negativity float away.
And, he's a really good big brother too. He is protective of her and always remembers to get her stuff when just the three of us (me, hubby and him) go to the mall without my daughter. He'd be all "Mama, buy this for Kaela!". It's so sweet it makes me tear up.
The thing is, this year all his friends will be starting 1st grade, and while we'd love for him to go to primary school too, it seems like there aren't a lot of schools out there who can accommodate his needs, and with his language and speech problem, it seems like he may have difficulty going to a normal school.
Over the past few weeks, my husband and I have been in a constant debate (not with each other - just with the options). Do we let him stay back another year and hope he catches up? Will he be OK being the only 7 year old in the class? (around here nowadays, people always go to 1st grade at the age of 6).
If we don't make him stay back, will he be too stressed out in school because he'll have a hard time in class? Will his friends make fun at him in class? Will a school even accept him with his speech problems? A million questions pop through our minds every second, and we can't seem to feel comfortable with ANY answer at this point. It seems like every option has some sort of negative impact so we can't feel like we're one hundred percent sure with what we decide.
Geez, being a parent really sucks sometimes.
So anyway, what we've been doing the past week is just trying to approach the schools one by one, asking if they can accommodate our special boy. We started out with a long list of schools, and I think we've crossed out all but 4 after speaking with them. I'll be calling the 3 schools tomorrow, and the 1 school has already said they can accept him, but it'll cost my husband and I an arm, a leg and a few other body parts, meaning that private school costs the same as 3 years of my college tuition. My husband says inflation, I say rip-off.
The only thing we can do right now is just pray. I guess, if we reach the bottom of the list with zero results, it must mean he's meant to stay back this year. But you know what, I'm hopeful. My boy has beaten the odds before, it's not impossible that he can do it again.
I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying to just stay grateful that he's even alive. I'm trying to keep my focus on the fact that he's such a healthy, wonderful, well-behaved, generous, kind and funny little boy. And that should be enough. Right?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Website - Yay!
Hey Everyone,
I know I'm a bit late with this but I'm happy to announce my official website is now up. Find me on www.shannon-hart.com and read up on the latest details on my book and my writing, plus you can also see what other folks are saying about my book.
If you are more interested in my day-to-day nonsense, however, stick with me here... :-)
I'll continue to post updates on both, and you can pick and choose your preference of reading material!
I know I'm a bit late with this but I'm happy to announce my official website is now up. Find me on www.shannon-hart.com and read up on the latest details on my book and my writing, plus you can also see what other folks are saying about my book.
If you are more interested in my day-to-day nonsense, however, stick with me here... :-)
I'll continue to post updates on both, and you can pick and choose your preference of reading material!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
New Year, New Resolutions?
What was I doing when the clock struck midnight? Sleeping. Doesn't sound like much fun, right? I know. Oh well.
But just because the start of the New Year wasn't exciting or mind-blowing, it doesn't mean I can't have a good year this year. In fact, a slow, uneventful start could very well lead to one of the most exciting years ever. It doesn't matter how you start it, what matters is how you live it.
I'm trying something new this year - I'm not going to have a long list of resolutions and promises that I can't keep. I did that every year for as long as I can remember, and where did that get me? Absolutely nowhere. I'm still standing in the same place I've been standing since I first started the resolution thing.
Have I lost weight? No.
Have I stopped drinking coffee? No.
Am I exercising regularly? No.
Well, yes, if you can consider running around chasing after my kids "exercise" - but if you don't, then the answer is no.
So there. Nothing was accomplished. I made resolutions and promises, and I broke every single one of them... And when I look back on those things I never managed to do, I feel defeated. Like somehow, I'm not a good enough person, which brought me to the thought, "So what is the point of doing it?"
That's why this year, I'm doing it differently. No promises, no resolutions. I've decided I'm just going to live my life to the best of my ability, as positively as possible, and work on things one day at a time, because maybe without the pressure, I may actually achieve things.
When I was in school, yes, pressure lead to anxiety, which lead to me being more productive. But now, perhaps thanks to the fact that I am maturing (and aging), it doesn't seem to work that way anymore. I think these days, I am much more interested in the bigger picture: enjoying life. Different perspectives can change the way you do things.
This year I've created a "Book of Randomness" - a book that I scribble on with thoughts and stuff that pop into my head (when I'm too lazy to turn on the computer). In this book, I've listed down a bunch of "Wishes" that, without too much pressure and too much strain, I'd like to be able to achieve. These are not resolutions, these are not promises that I'll never follow through on. These are bigger dreams that I hope to be able to accomplish in time just by being positive and an all-around good person. No deadlines, but accurate and positive dreams.
Good person = doing good in everything, which means in work, in society, in parenting, in household finances, etc. Simple, but hopefully effective.
Check back here for updates on whether this works or not. I may be wrong, (or I may be delusional) and this may not even make any sense to anyone else but me, but I'm feeling so good about this. So how can I not try it?
Monday, December 21, 2009
The BEST Christmas Dinner EVER
Ah... Christmas is around the corner. Funny how it felt like just yesterday, I had Christmas dinner celebrations with my group of friends, exchanged gifts and due to our busy schedules, had one of the shortest Christmas dinners in history.
Yesterday, we had an early Christmas dinner with friends from our cell group - a newly created cell group for young couples, and a unique one at that. We had the dinner at Aprilla & Yosi's house - Yosi, an amazing comedian and Aprilla, an amazing party organizer who created a spectacular dinner for us.
Pictures were taken, the delicious dinner was served (at a table set like it was set for royalty!), and fun games were played. It was guys against the girls, and we couldn't have been more competitive. Us girls even threatened the guys with sleeping on the couch that night if we lost (jokingly, of course!) but we ended up scoring a tie between the teams and learned a lot about each other... For example, all guys apparently watched Hawaii-Five-O and James Bond movies, while girls know the contents of TV Guide by heart - we knew all the TV shows! One valuable lesson learned as well: never EVER bid for less than 4 seconds to guess something. You won't even finish your first clue by the end of the 3rd second. (Note to my dear husband Michael a.k.a. mancing69 on twitter: the show is called "Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader", and NOT "Who Wants To Be A Fifth Grader?").
At the end of the night, after exchanging gifts, I didn't want the night to end - but it had to. All the way home, my husband and I couldn't stop talking about how much fun we had, and how happy and blessed we felt to be a part of such a dynamic, loving, fun, exciting, humble and generous crowd.
Someone wise once said "Show me your friends, and I'll show you your future" -- with these friends, I'm looking at an amazing and spectacular future ahead!
This special post is dedicated to our very special friends Shelvia, Doni, Aprilla, Yosi, Maya, Budhi, Awie, Fen, and special guests of the evening Sidney & Etha.
Sweating the Small Stuff
You know that book, "Don't Sweat The Small Stuff"? I first saw that book on the shelf of my then-boyfriend (now husband). When I saw it, I thought to my self, hmph. Not sweating the small stuff seemed highly unlikely for someone like me. I am a freak for details and order, how could I ever not sweat the small stuff?!
This is the kind of person I am: when someone gives me a printed out excel sheet and a line is missing, I send it back and ask them to fix it. When someone gives me a present with a bow on it and the bow is crooked, I fix the bow before taking it off and opening the present. When a colleague is erasing a pencil written sheet, I check the sheet, re-erase to make sure there is absolutely no trace of it ever being written and give it back to her. I spot mispellings of people's names in magazines. I clean a whole row of tv screens on an airplane to make sure my friends and I can watch spotless on-demand movies on our 13-hours flight (ask Boris, he'll confirm this!) I plan a minute-by-minute itinerary for all my business trips, including a scheduled bathroom break and try to squeeze in 15 minutes of shopping after lunch.
Yeah. Detail freak. Or OCD maybe - I am confused which one is more appropriate.
Anyway - not sweating the small stuff was near-impossible for me to do. Until recently, when I discovered that sometimes, letting things happen out of the norm and order is actually OK to do.
So here's the story: normally, on the last day of my trips, I would book a taxi in the morning to go to the airport. If my flight was 12, I'd book the taxi at 8 to leave at 9 and reach the airport by 10. But last week on Wednesday (my flight home was Thursday), I was coincidentally speaking to the reception and she offered to book me a taxi early. Normally, I would have said, "Oh, it's OK, I can do it in the morning." But that night, I sort of thought, well, why not?
It would have been out of the ordinary habit, and it would have meant me changing my minute-by-minute schedule the next day, but hey, why not?
So I agreed to it, and the lady booked me the cab. I went back to my room, thinking it was such a big deal that it changed my routine, but whatever.
Thursday came, and it was snowing cats and dogs outside, and the minute I got to reception, the guy on standby for the morning shift said, "You're so lucky you booked a cab last night, otherwise you would not get one. It's snowing today and taxi's do not want to take passengers when it's snowing."
I stood there with my mouth opened and my jaw nearly touching the ground ala Ally McBeal. It would have taken me forever to get a cab had I insisted on ordering one in the morning, and I would have missed my long-awaited flight home. Amazing!
Now, to some people, this might not be a big deal. To some people, this may only be making something out of nothing. But for me, it was a no bullshit kind of way to smack me in the face and tell me that life needs to take it's course sometimes, and made me realize that I can't try to plan and schedule every single thing. And sometimes, the course that is set out for us is better than what we planned.
Cutting the long story short, I'm home, I'm happy, and I'm a bit more open minded now. I can let go of some of the small stuff because my perspective has changed: (a) they don't matter that much and I shouldn't waste time and energy on them, (b) it's OK to make mistakes or miss a few things because if they work out, they work out. If it's a mistake, I can learn and move on.
The new year hasn't started yet, but I'm starting early with my resolutions. I'm not going to sweat the small stuff.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
