It's funny

The potato chip packaging crackles. The voice of Eliza Doolittle and Professor Higgins resonates in the hall. It's a lazy and cold Sunday afternoon in suburban Chippendale. It is now the beginning of the end of the first half of 2008. Winter is dripping wet this year.

Feeling fidgety from the mug of mocha two hours earlier, yours truly is now sitting in front of a friend's laptop screen churning out random thoughts on her blog while listening to Julie Andrew's singing in the background. It's funny how I blog when I have caffeine and alcohol in my body system. Simply funny.

Since many of my recent posts included pictures or videos, I thought this post would only contain words. Words. As empty as they are being just words, they are nevertheless important. At least to me. It's funny how the pitter patter of rain makes you think of what you say or do.

In a few days, the Melbournian will become a Sydneysider. Our Epping hall will yet again become a refugee camp. I am so glad that the sofa-beds are well-used. See, a first class Honours is not everything, my dear. Your second class upper has managed to secure you a place in one of the world's leading research institutes in children's medicine. We second class upper scorers rock!

I am looking forward to the change in dynamics in our Epping household. Now, it's 3 Leos against 1 Scorpio, with the lion having two lionesses in his pack. It's funny that I choose to look at it from an astrological point of view. I have an evil grin on my face now imagining the future.

Uprooting has consequences. It makes you think of both your past and your future. What shaped your present? What will become of you? It's funny that we reflect and ponder but do nothing about out thoughts. What good is just 'abstract doing'? What does that change? Nothing. It may change the way you think. It may change the way you talk and carry yourself. But in essence, does it really change anything?

The rain has stopped. The tip tap of my typing is clearer now. Passers-by avoid the brown puddles outside, just as we avoid setbacks in life. Once in a while, we misjudge a shallow pool of water and end up cursing an expletive when the water soaks our new suede shoes and opaque stockings. In my opinion, misjudging is what many of us do best. Every decision is like that puddle of water. It's funny how I think puddles of water represent the decisions we make in life.

Wouldn't it be lovely if decisions were all made for you? Wouldn't it be lovely if you had the world at your feet? Wouldn't it be lovely if there were no puddles of water?

Hell no.

It's funny I think that despite how inconvenient setbacks are in life, they are crucial in shaping a better designed future. Without these puddles, how would I know which puddles are deeper than others? How would I know which to avoid? How would I know which to ignore and just walk into?

I am still fidgeting from the caffeine in my system. I am distracted by the activity in the kitchen. What are we having for dinner, I wonder. Something hearty and warm, I hope. I am thinking of my trip to Gold Coast more than dinner. It's funny how an event further away from the present excites me more.

We want the future to come faster but prefer to revert to the past. Why is that? Have we not made mistakes in the past as well? We will also make mistakes in the future so why the preference? Funny how we are fickle-minded and are natural whiners.

Simply funny.