my worst nightmare came true yesterday...well sort of.

Eversince I started working at Citibank, I've been terrified that one morning, I would stroll into my office and find two policeman standing by my desk waiting for me. Not that I am into money laundering or anything, it's just that the stress of dealing with other people's money kind of got to me.

So yesterday afternoon, I was talking to my boss at the far end of the office when this girl comes up to me and goes "Melody, there's somebody here to see you."

I did a complete 180 degree turn and found two policeman standing by my desk.

Really, I nearly fainted. It was a scene right out of my imagination.

Then it turned out that they were merely delivering some plastic cards. Don't ask me why they need CISCO guards for that.

my past has returned to haunt me.

One of the main reasons why I agreed to go on stage was because I assumed that having just returned home after being away for 4 years, there would hardly be anyone I know who would recognise me. Besides, it was a silly party whom I didn't think many people I know would attend.

Ha.

It's a small small world.

I got a message on my phone from a friend this afternoon: "Hey! I've reliable news that u were on stage at a cleo bachelor bash at zouk couple mths back. So is this true?"

I have been tracked down. By a schoolmate I have not met for about 6 years. Who so happened to be at the event because she was working at a company that represented a few of the bachelors. Who so happened to be my friend's new colleague.

Who so happened to find out that their mutual friend is me.

what more to say to this besides that the glory and power of God should never be underestimated.

The weekend re-opened my eyes to the power of prayer, the inspiration faith brings and the beauty of the church family who are willing to pray and plead for help to the Almighty simply because.

The courage of the ones involved impressed me. And the love of their friends touched me.

It was a weekend where one was reminded that miracles still happen...

I am impressed. Not all bankers are dull. (Granted he isn't exactly a banker since he's actually here on an internship...)

Not only can he draw, he does it darn well too!

I defy the norms by being an oxymoron...

I am an intelligent beauty...

How to make a Mel

Ingredients: 5 parts intelligence 3 parts crazyiness 5 parts beauty

Method: Add to a cocktail shaker and mix vigorously. Serve with a slice of fitness and a pinch of salt. Yum!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

You can stop rolling your eyes now.

my dearly missed brother finally came back from Thailand.

And to show his immense love for his sister, he bought me.....facial wash.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's incredibly sweet of him to buy me something, but facial wash??? Only a 16 year old BROTHER would do that. Honestly, facial wash?

To top it off, he doesn't even have it with him. Someone else took his suitcase by mistake, leaving him theirs. So he had to make a report with the airport and left the wrong suitcase with them.

The airport called later this morning saying that they've found his suitcase and would send it to him this afternoon.

They brought him the suitcase he left them.

Yes, his suitcase is still missing.

See what Care Bear you are.

I'm a pink bear...

Think it fits Shimona better. Pink has never been my colour.

(Although I know my mom would beg to differ, having to raise a daughter who insisted on having a room with pink walls and who 10 years later would ask her "Why is my room pink?")

She expects me to solve this.

Yeah right.

1. I cannot count.
2. Numbers freak me out.
3. I cannot count.
3. My brain freezes at the sight of numbers.
4. I cannot count.
5. 1996 was the last time I ever had anything to do with Math as a subject.
6. I cannot count.

And she expects me to work out how the computer calculates something?

Maybe I will do it sometime.

But not now when I'm supposed to be working....at a bank...where numbers practically fly around the entire office.

*bursts sporadically*

For a really long time, I had wanted to be a part of the corporate world - the big board meetings, the fast-paced environment, working with executives and managers making decisions that would impact many people...

I dreamt of being a part of an organisation that was practically living and breathing, moving on its own momentum. I imagined owning a fast car, living in a penthouse apartment...practically living the high life.

Maybe it's just my general world-weary cynicism. Maybe it's simply because I'm sick of my job. Or it could be that I'm just plain lazy.

I am now a part of the living, breathing organisation. And although I am most certainly not living the high life or even anywhere near it, I come in constant contact with people who are almost there. And I realise I do not want the life I thought I wanted, if I have to pay the price they did.

Coming to work at 9 in the morning, then staying till close to midnight during weekdays. Having to come back to work during the weekends, or even during public holidays. An in-tray that's never empty. The constant pressure to perform or risk losing your job. Having to deal with office politics. Surviving in the cut-throat, dog-eat-dog of a world. Running the rat race....

No thank you. There is more to life than that.

They may have their fast cars. They may have their penthouse apartment. But how much time do they actually have to enjoy it? The office has become their house. Why the need for luxurious living when one's life has practically been sold to the company?

I will not deny the fact that I would love to lead a luxurious lifestyle, but more importantly, I want meaning in my life. I want a life not sold to my work, unless it is work that is sold to God.

So give me my simple apartment. Give me my public transport. Give me my friends who care and love me with no hidden agendas. Give me my Levi's. Give me my foodcourt meals. Give me a life where I can come home to my family, to my candlelit room, to my novels, to my writing, to my photography, to my craftwork, to my little artistic indulgences.

Give me my time with God who will in turn give me everything I've ever wanted - peace, happiness and contentment.

Faith is a genius.

Thanks for coming up with this new design!

And for all of you who are blinded by the yellow/orange. Too bad.

I like it.

He never wrote, much less called.

When I met him on MSN, our conversations lasted hours, three quarters of which was filled with silence. The other quarter consisted of me asking questions and him giving vague answers.

When we did talk on the phone, I had glorious monosyllabic responses.

It's been a long journey.

It started with the longing for a playmate, then the fervent wish that I never had one, but on the night I first left Singapore, I found myself wondering.

Would he forget me?

Would we become strangers upon my return?

Would he ever establish a relationship with God?

It goes without saying the amount of joy and relief to nkow that he has decided to make a stand to live for God and it honestly amazes me he got this far.

He was only 11 when our father passed away. The robbing away of his male role figure. The confusion, the agony and the numerous questions as to why our father? Why us? Why? Especially since my father lived as best as he could to please the God he loved.

I was afraid. We were all afraid. Would Shannon ever learn to love and trust God? Would he out of sheer spite transform into this uncontrollable rebellious teenager who hates God? After all, the odds were against him. It looked like God robbed his father away from him.

I left Singapore less than 2 years after our father passed away. And when I returned for the holidays, I realised that he had indeed changed. But amazingly, he rose above everything to become the sweetest, best brother one could ever have.

Of course, it was rather annoying to have your 14 year old brother wanting to keep tabs on you, refusing to let you leave the house until you gave him the low down as to who you were going out with, where you were going and what time you were going to be back. But it touched me to know how much he cared.

It was as if I never existed in his life when I was away, but when I came home, I saw a change in him. It was as if he took it upon himself to be the man of the house, excusing the occasional teenage moodswing. He stayed with the family, and best of all, he stayed with God.

It is easy to dismiss him as another lost teenager when you look at him. With his shocking mess of strange coloured hair, his love of so called worldly music and that swagger when he walks, who can ever guess that deep down, he has got a soul that is willing to listen. A heart that is so open to love?

Honestly, I cannot tell you what his relationship wit God is like. That is his story to tell. But I can say that it is not a frivolous decision on his part to commit his life to God.

The journey has just begun Shannon.

Jesus promised those who would follow him 3 things:

That they would be absurdly happy, entirely fearless and always in trouble.

Your decision will bring you on a path where challenges seem unending, where pain seem unbearable. But never forget this. You are now God's child, and if you hold fast to your faith, stay firm with what you believe, you will not only see the light at the end of the tunnel. You will get little safety lamps along the way.

My dear brother got dunked by the pastor on Saturday (May 29)...