Letting Go

After so long, most of the time, the warm-up lead is routine. A comfortable, easy, routine. The movement is fluid, like clockwork. The first clip is usually a breeze. Past the third clip, it is high enough to not hit the ground in case of a fall, unless the rope has way too much slack. After clipping in at the seventh, it is time to let go.

Staring at my hands, willing them to relinquish their hold, I block out the awareness of the distance I will drop. I inhale deeply, exhale, let go and let myself fall.

It seems easy. It is in fact, easy, for most climbers. It isn't for me, unfortunately. It is for me, the hardest part of my training. Many a time I simply couldn't do it. The fear isn't just in my head. It is real, it is crippling.

It's been three years since I took up sports climbing. It's been at least half as long since I took up lead climbing. The best I can do is clean a 5c (5.9) lead route. I can finish some 6a (5.10a) routes, but with one or two (or more!) rests, so they absolutely do not count. It is easy to blame my lack of progress on my lack of actual climbing - serious climbers climb 4 times a week, minimum, whereas I do once, sometimes not at all. My tiny stature - short limbs and all - makes a good excuse, as well as my limited brute strength and power, being a lady and all... *Ahem!*

Truth be told, even if I were more committed in my strength training in the gym, I'd still be held back by the one aspect I don't care to condition - mental strength. My climbing partner's been constantly reminding (which is how I politely mean nagging, scolding, threatening etc.) me to overcome my fear of falling.

This is the reason I am compelled to persist in the falling exercises - to learn to let go, and trust that everything will be fine. Yes, fine, in spite of risks of scrapes and bruises, and shameful involuntary squeals...

Predictability

It usually is great when outcomes are highly predictable. One knows what to expect, one knows there will be no surprises. Except, in circumstances which the predicted outcome isn't the one one really wants.

Sometimes, I wonder - truly wonder - if sentimentality is actually hardwired in me. Time after time I've been disappointed and frustrated by responses, which predictability is so high I can almost forecast them word-by-word, and yet, I still willingly participate in events that call for them. Did I honestly believe that this time would be different from the previous countless occasions? No, I didn't. But I still went along. I wish I could understand why.

So here it is - the cycle of getting what I expected I'd get; then, facing the familiar wave of annoyance and exasperation; and finally, the resolve to not put myself in the same situation ever again. A resolve that will not be kept.

I wish I could care less. I really do. An emotionless being operating on pure logic and reason can't be that fun, but at least (s)he wouldn't hurt.

Bad For Tummy

A long-time friend and colleague was, like me, diagnosed with functional dyspepsia several months ago. We're both more or less fine now, but this condition doesn't really just "go away". It lingers. For life. We just have to be careful to not actively invite episodes.

So, a bunch of us went out for lunch and decided to try this place we never knew existed until we saw it. The set meal, which we all decided to go for because we love the convenience, came with either a cold beverage, in form of carbonated drinks, or a hot one, coffee or tea. I decided to go for coffee without a second thought. I said to my functional dyspepsia-mate, I don't take soft drinks. He said he was going for coffee too, and that we made the right choice because soft drinks are bad for our troubled tummies.

Really?

Coffee is also bad for our tummies, I said. Well, yea, he agreed, but not as bad as those darn "sparkling" stuff are.

I wouldn't disagree with him. Carbonated drinks are hard to swallow, saturated with artificial flavouring, colouring and sweeteners, and well, they make me burp more than I'm willing to put up with. Plus, I love coffee (so that I'm OK to ignore whatever artificial stuff that might be in the brew... *ahem*). Cheers!

It's kinda cool to have a fellow sufferer... not cool that we're suffering, but at least we're in good company. =P

Curious

Every so often when sleep eludes me - this instance courtesy of the delightful white coffee I had at dinner - I simply sit and ponder life. Sometimes, it's life in general, sometimes it's mine specifically. Tonight, I'm thinking of all the people who like, dislike and downright detest me, and the reasons I think compelled them to.

I thought about those so vindictive in addition to cutting me completely off they talk behind my back, attempt to turn mutual friends against me and / or write nasty, slanderous public posts. It hurts, of course, but I am aware, to a good degree, why those who I know despise me feel that way. I have faults and I know what tick some people off, but I don't usually bother to modify my attitude unless the person affected is someone I truly love and care about. Well, I don't go about routinely pissing people off for fun, but as someone once said to me - if one isn't hated by anyone at all, one doesn't have a personality.

It is in this contemplation that I realised that there is one person, whose disapproval of me began a long, long time ago and has since festered into a full-fledged, open hatred, who I never knew how I offended. I couldn't care less now than I have cared all these years past - that I didn't realise I never thought about the reason - but I feel, right now, a pang of curiosity. Of course, I know very well that nothing will be different eitherway, but there is this part of me that really wants to get to the bottom of everything. It is an affliction and a serious one too. Sometimes, even after I get answers by putting together tell-tale signs and all that, I will still pursue the matter until I get a concrete confirmation. So, yea... I'm very curious - I'm wondering what could I have said, done, or been, that could have made someone keep so tenacious a grudge - and it's puzzling because I don't care at all about the said person, and as I said, I will not change a thing, regardless. It is simply much like reading a detective tale and desiring to get to the page where the criminal mastermind is revealed.

Anyway, some things in life will always remain a mystery, and some things are better left as such. Ignorance is not the bliss I want, but sometimes, it is the only bliss there is...

Curry Puffs & Stuff

People who eat curry puffs are generally more concerned with the filling. Beginners at making curry puffs, on the other hand, are concerned with how the crust turns out - or so I'd like to believe. Otherwise, I'm just odd...

I'd never attempted these local breakfast favourite before because they are absolutely found every where one looks! The motivation came from the time the seller of one of the best we had disappeared. One day, he just wasn't there at his stall anymore. A couple of weeks later, the stall itself was gone. I wasn't devastated that I lost the source of a yummy afternoon snack, but it was annoying enough. I decided... what the heck, I can't do worse than the worst I'd eaten.

I started with the shortcrust pastry version (recipe) and yea, they were good, but not impressionable enough that I cared to go for further attempts.

Recently, I mustered enough courage to try these with layered pastry crust (recipe). It was a lot more work, but worth every bit of extra effort.

The crust was delightfully crispy and not exactly horrible to look at... with shortening at that. Imagine if I'd actually used lard!

These days, I get excited the moment I decide to challenge myself in the kitchen. Someone asked if I really do bake every weekend. Well, I don't... sometimes, I just deep-fry curry puffs *Ahem!* Perhaps it's the continuous inspiration from my roomee, perhaps the very satisfying sense of achievement when first (or sometimes, second) attempts turn out great. Or perhaps the narcissist in me needs continuous little culinary successes to remain narcissistic...

Angry Face

Hello, did you see my angry face today?

I don't really want to be angry, for being angry is detrimental to my health and anyone who makes me angry sure as hell isn't worth affecting my well-being for. The body, however, isn't always successful in performing in ways the mind intends it to..... so, I got mad, despite not wanting to.

Did you like my angry face? I'm sure you don't, for it is horrible, and extremely fearful to behold. Surely you prefer my laughs, smiles, my amicable or even neutral facial expressions, to... whatever you saw today. Surely! So, grow some brains and stop infuriating me already!

Foo

The first programming language I learned was Pascal. Then, C came along. I don't remember whether Java or C++ was next, but it was in my C++ class that I first encountered examples of functions called foo. My lecturer never explained the name, nor did anyone inquired - I suppose, an identifier, by any other name (as long as it isn't a reserved word), works just as identifiers should. I admit, although slightly intrigued, I never cared enough to ask questions about it. I simply assumed the "oo" there most likely stood for "object-oriented", or something sensible like that.

Since completing my undergraduate studies, I have, at times when googling for stuff, came across examples with foo in them, and... I know, it shouldn't have taken me so many years to actually google it up. Turns out, its origin has nothing to do with programming.

foo usually appears alongside bar, though why I'd no recollection of the latter, I have no idea. "Foobar" came from FUBAR, which is acronym for F***ed Up Beyond All Recognition, a term used by the US Army during World War II.

I'm not a programmer but I'd once spent about a week coding continuously, with hardly any sleep, because the deadline was fast approaching and my application wouldn't run properly. So yea, I think I get it...

Further reading I
Further reading II