general things...

Joel Jan's room looks like a toy store. I remember the days when I used to cut out doll furniture from discarded boxes. I think that Joel Jan has tons of lego. This is all my fault, I know. A result of those years when I succumbed to shopalcholism and lego was my trip. Tomorrow I will have to buy an organizer for his collection of train magazines.

That boy is a month shy of six years old and he is already an avid collector. I bought him this tin wind-up car at a collector's show, it still stands on his bedside stand and no one is allowed to touch it. He has his own shelf for his special things which no one is allowed to touch except himself. On that shelf, he has several spider man things, and small boats to remind himself that he is saving up for a real boat someday.

Sometimes, I shake my head in wonder.

Note this, he and his father built a space station together. It's been standing there for months. The only thing he does is open the gates in the morning and make the little lego people walk in and out of the gates. Sometimes, when the spirit moves him, he frees the rocket from its locks and lets it fly about a bit. In many ways, it's pretty much like a real rocket station .

Books. That boy has books. It's all my fault, I know. I cannot resist buying books and he knows it. If we go to a bookstore, he knows that if he asks me to buy him a new book, I will say yes. Mainly because we have read through all the books on his bookcase. I should really sort them. I would send them off to the Philippines if not for the fact that no one would be able to read them.

Sports. Gymnastics, swimming, biking and now he wants to try tennis. We visited the tennis club last week. At six, he can start mini lessons.

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Then there's me. I've taken up badminton as a sport. I wanted to do table tennis, but it seems that the majority of those playing table tennis over here are youngsters. So, goodbye to the days of spins and palo. Yesterday, I forgot that I was playing badminton and kept on using my backhand. The trainer reminded me that badminton is best played by backing up and hitting the shuttle with forehand. Okay, okay.

I do like badminton, so I've decided to sign up for one year. I bought myself really professional looking badminton racket. Not bad. It's one that the sporting goods store will re-string for me if the strings should break.

I am one kilo lighter than I was the last time I wrote on this blog. No, I am not telling how heavy I am. My end goal is 60 kilos. That seems like a reasonable weight goal to me.

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I seem to have a secret gene of competitiveness. Darn it, I just hate being the one who lets the shuttle fall. I also am intent on doing whatever it takes to lose all that extra weight.

This is just like language school all over again. How come I was never like this when I was back home? Why oh why did I never want to be the best at something back then? Is it because I didn't have to be the best or is it because life was just so easy?

Over here, I am learning what struggle means.