Do you remember what you were like and what you enjoyed when you were eighteen?
A girl told me recently that while my brother was in ACSI and RJC, there were a number girls who thought he was hot. Of course, as an older sister who cannot fathom my brother in any sexy way, I find this extremely funny. Girls were digging his bad boy rep on the outside, but alas, no one seemed to be onto his squishy soft good-naturedness on the inside. Well, I’m about to pop the bad-boy-bubble RIGHT NOW and announce that my dearest little brother, who I love very much, is indeed a bad boy with a good heart.
He will be done with his studies soon in London, and to celebrate the excitement of having him back in my physical life, here’s a list of how (and why) my brother is a bad boy with a good heart. Feel free to take a tip or two.
PS: My brother hates me Facebooking/blogging/posting about him, and he really hates attention. (I know, so unlike me right? They don’t make them any more opposite than this!)
So, for the sake of your entertainment (and I will probably be scolded for this), I hope you like this post!
Disclaimer: I hope you are mature enough to know that this is just a tongue in cheek post for fun, and not to be taken seriously. Bad boys are only cool if they have a good heart. Stay in school and study hard like my brother does.
Countdown to the month of his return! *JUNE 2013*
Between a busy schedule of attending events, meeting up with friends and business contacts, going for drinks, travelling and editing pictures of myself, I was looking forward to a mid-week movie break with my Dad this week. Oh finally, a much deserved break! If you know anything about my Dad (and you probably don’t), the men in my family are massive DC/Marvel comic fans. One of my cousins has a room
glorified dedicated to these colourful action books, and another has a room adorned with affiliated and limited-edition memorabilia.
So of course, we made plans to see the notorious Iron Man 3. Let me point out here that my Dad hates to spend money on anything fun or frivolous. Especially if it’s for himself. He is so incredibly selfless that he would wear the same shirt for 10 years so that me and my brother can have new ones. Half of his shirts are free or torn, and my brother has the nicest computers and the latest technology in our house. Anyway, I celebrated this momentous movie by trawling the internet for discounts on movie tickets.
My hands were jittery and my heart fluttered with excitement at the thought of this long-awaited date with Daddy. I couldn’t wait for the day to come, and it finally came. Being the champion that I am, I fell sick.
“Boohoo, Daddy I think I’m sick. I really want to watch Iron Man 3 with you and your friend, but I can’t last 2 hours in the theatre. I’m going to go back to bed. Are you OK to watch it with your friend?”
“Sure, you better rest.”
“I did all the research for you Daddy. Go to any Shaw theatre, and make sure you use your UOB credit card, NTUC card or Passion card for the cheapest movie rates. The best you can get on a weekday is $7.50. It will be more expensive if you watch in 3D though. I picked all the best timings and locations for you and whatsapped it to you too.”
“Ok thanks, love you, see you later!”
The door slammed on my dreams, but I soon had some of my own. I drifted off into an afternoon slumber.
(The stuff of sweet dreams.)
My Dad came home from the movie as I was pulling myself up from my afternoon siesta.
Rubbing my eyes, I said sleepily, “How was the movie Dad? Was it $7.50 at the places I picked for you?”
“It was good. Me and my friend watched it for $4.50 each. We watched at Filmgarde.”
I jerked straight up, indignant. “$4.50? Cannot be! I checked every single major movie theatre website in Singapore and went through 50 over bloody promotions to get you the best rate. (OK, I didn’t say bloody in front of my Dad but you get my drift.) How could you have gotten such a low rate? Why you watch at Filmgarde?! Got $4.50 meh?”
“Ya. We got the $4.50 senior citizen rate.”
“You’re a SENIOR CITIZEN!?!?!?”
“Haha. Yes dear I am.”
“But how come?! You’re not that old, right? How old are you?”
“58. My friend was over 55 too, categorizing us as Senior Citizens. ”
I can’t believe it. My strong and awesome father is a senior citizen. Before I know it, we’re all going to be senior citizens too. Let’s all gather at the void deck, complain about the younger generation and their internet, and play chess together.
Here’s a slightly more “senior citizen”-looking photo of us.
#things are not what they used to be
No joke, guys. I had such a great time at this party, and I want to show you what went down! I’ve been sorting out lots of exciting stuff with consulting, my new company, my blogsite (yes, I think you will smell a new .com real soon!), and a bunch of other things… bla bla I’ll stop with the excuses now. #lousy
Seriously though, I have so much stuff to put up here VERY SOON so bear with me and wait a little longer? Please? Forgive me?
Thanks to you everyone who messages me on Facebook, Tweets at me when you’re bored or laughs at all my lame jokes on my blog. I LOVE YOU!
-I’m in Indonesia this weekend but I’ll be back with lots of content soon! Read me next week, squeak squeak!-
The one who laughs at pretty much ALL my jokes. The one who shares my swearing and sarcasm. The blonde to my brunette. The billy to my silly.
I usually meet up with Ania (that’s how her name is pronounced in her language) several times a week, if I’m not already on the phone gabbing away with her. However, I’ve been on trips quite a bit the last month (KL, Japan – blogposts/pictorial stories to come!) and
she’s currently back home in Europe this month. It’s a funny feeling not seeing her and talking to her for such a long time and I am in need of an Ania-dote! (You see what I did there? An Ania antidote…? Hurhur.)
The upside is that she’s coming back so I’ll see her very soon – which means you probably will too 😛 (More pictures lah.)
Miss you banana!
I’ve always rushed around life and people, but recently have had the luxury of more time to appreciate what’s around me. It’s a
good great feeling.
Of the last couple of months, a lot of people have been giving me “visions” or a “word” from God. (“Visions” or “Words”: These people who walk closely with the Lord usually get visions or words popping up randomly in their head. It is usually random to them, but extremely meaningful to the receiver that they are meant to share it with.) It’s amazing how much you HEAR when you actually LISTEN.
“Hey Estelle, I have a word for you. Let me pray for you.” Mr Glasses came up to me at a Christian group gathering.
We sat down and I happily stretched out my hands, eyes closed. Mr Glasses didn’t know me very well, and I don’t think he knows much about me. In my mental blankness, I was open to receiving, but mostly waiting to hear something about me (me Me ME!)! Instead, Mr Glasses gave me a special word about my Mom and Dad. He felt from God that my parents were very anointed, and prayed a prayer of thanks for them as he was compelled to tell me that I am extremely favoured by God. A lot of bad things could have happened to me and my siblings, he said. “But they don’t happen, because you have very prayerful protection from my parents.”
I have to interject here and explain to YOU that I’m not a perfect Christian. Throwing back to our teenage days, my brother and I have been up to TONS of trouble. We were breaking out of our individual crowds, and we thought we could do whatever we want. My life was a focus of fun. I’ve always believed in God, yet never quite cared that HE was there, somewhere. God wasn’t that important to me – after all, I was alive, living the good life, and having a ball of a time. So how important could God be?
I always continued going to church, but Jesus was more like a once-a-week Sunday 2-hour hobby. He wasn’t a priority. Hey, I’m a busy person. I also got distracted easily.
(Shiny red things!!)
I don’t pray before my meals, and I never used to pray in general. But thankfully for me, my parents prayed more than their fair share. They were regular and prayerful ambassadors of God – always praying for other people, for many families, and for us children individually. They were never shy of asking for prayer from all their Christian relatives, bible study friends, church pastors and visitors.
“What did they pray for?” You may ask.
“What did they NOT pray for”, I will say. They prayed for every single thing, big or small. It doesn’t matter if it was a complex issue with someone’s boss, or a spot in a parking lot. They prayed for me and my brother to have protection, wisdom, and favour with others. I remember my Dad’s favourite prayer – he seemed to utter this pretty much everyday. “I pray Lord that you will break all curses, chants, negative thoughts and negative words in this household or against this household. Thank you God. Amen.”
My parents prayed in the car, as they walked and they talked, and even prayed as an answer when I asked any questions. I think you get the point – my parents pray. A LOT. So Mr Glasses wasn’t very far off.
I’ve never really had anything bad happen to me, but somehow I knew that I wasn’t the kind of daughter that made them proud. I was good in some ways, but argumentative and selfish in others. I also made choices they didn’t approve of, and made them worry a lot. “You’re so popular,” they said. “But what about living a more meaningful and productive life?” They always sighed with sadness.
I was young and rebellious, but they loved me anyway.
And then, things started happening. A shaking of all sorts of things. The kind of things that grab you by the shoulders and scream at you for attention. A lot of things happened, and one of the most noticeable things was that my brother got into a car accident. I will never forget this moment – I was overseas and didn’t check my phone calls and messages. When I finally picked it up, my heart was in my throat as I read a long message from my Dad, explaining the details of my brother’s car crash.
The only thing he had been drinking was ice lemon tea, nor was he speeding excessively. It was raining and the car started to skid while going down a wet slope. It skidded (I imagined to the right), smacked into the railing on the side and spun around. It continued spinning as it was sliding down the slope, and culminated in crashing through – not one – but TWO concrete walls.
I remember that my Dad’s message ended in something like, “On-lookers called the police and the ambulance, because it looked like someone had died. But your brother is OK. His friend who was in the passenger seat, wasn’t wearing a seat belt, but he’s OK too. They are both a little shaken, but otherwise scratch-free.”
The car was not so fine, it was crushed like a tin can and had to be written off.
My brother doesn’t like to talk about this, but he does admit that there was no reasonable explanation for him and his friend (SANS SEAT BELT) surviving this crash (SCRATCH-FREE!). Anyone could have been burnt, hurt, killed – It’s so clear to me that the 1 reason is 100% prayerful protection.
Actually, my brother’s life is full of testimonies – this is one of many. Somehow, things seem to affect me by always happening to those around me. Miracles, some would call it. Did good things happen to us because we were good kids? No, not really. Far from it. Good things DIDN’T happen to us because we deserved it – but because Jesus died on the cross for us. We are redeemed, and so we can claim all these good things. Oh, the unmerited favour!
Even when we didn’t care about God, he never once stopped caring about us. He knows us, and he loves us. What grace. What mercy. What goodness… It’s pretty awesome.
I wasn’t expecting this, but I was overwhelmed with instant peace.
I hung my head low, and my eyes were still closed as Mr Glasses finished his prayer over me. I whispered my thanks to God for the testimony and revelation of my parents and their power of prayer. I started crying and laughing at the same time – it was as inexplicable as the waves of love that was overcoming my body.
Mind blown! I guess my parents’ unconditional prayers on me and my brother is but a subset of their unconditional love for us. Mr Glasses gave me a sharp take-away, and I nodded in willing surrender as he divulged, “Sometimes, what your parents tell you may sound like nagging, but open your heart to hear them. God uses your parents to talk to you. What your parents tell you might be prophetic. So don’t just hear what they say – listen to what they say.”
I don’t know if I want to tell my parents that their nagging might be prophetic… what if they use it and abuse it?! But I will keep it in mind, and remember to LISTEN to them when I hear them. I thank God everyday for them. Amen. 🙂
Thank God today. For your friends, your family… For the good things, and for the bad things that you don’t see.
Guess what phone this is???
Nope, it’s not an iPhone. Not an Andriod or Nokia either.
It’s the ALL-NEW, revolutionary, BLACKBERRY z10. Looking forward to checking it out, I heard about some features I think I might like…
– GESTURES: The new BlackBerry 10 operating system is built around touch based gestures. Not something to get used to on the first day, but supposedly has an amazing “flow”
– TYPING: Better keyboard than ANY other touch phones apparently. Smarter predictive text. No more embarrassing auto-correcting of “boardgame sessions to “bisexual sessions”!
– CAMERA: 8 megapixel shooter for images and 1080p video – top end specs for a smartphone camera. Forward facing camera is said to shoot 720p video, great for video calling or self-shot videos.
– TIME SHIFT: The Z10 camera has an interesting feature called Time Shift, it takes multiple pictures with one click. ONE CLICK, MORE PHOTOS!
– EMAILS: Are still mega fast and awesome.
… I wonder how the battery life and other things would hold up though? What do you think? It looks pretty promising. I can’t believe this is a BLACKBERRY!
After the press conference this week, I will update you terrific techies about the other things we want to know – namely, the retail price and release date in Singapore.