So much for an elective, I wrote in to the GERPE/UE appeal system, nbs office, lecturer and SBS office. Language electives sent in their rejection emails already, so basically I'm left with no choice.

If SBS rejects me, I'm so going to pay a visit to their office personally. But till then, have faith Jessie :) I told the Lord, if I get the elective I'm going to be so thankful. Ok rephrase, even if I get the elective or not I will give thanks. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus".

So much for a 3AU elective. My aspiration is to be a mugger this sem. Studies come first, all else queue behind. Heavenly papa is excluded from the queue lah, He has VIP tickets! 2nd upper here I come!!!!

Was at the main church this morning to help out in the sale of bags for Hope House. That place is like a second home for me in Thailand when the group of us went for our mission trip last December. Though each woven bag cost about $10-20 and the fact is the max we can raise is a few hundred or so, I found myself rejoicing each time the envelopes grow with money.

I saw my earthly papa circling the missions booths several times from the corner of my eye. As the common Asian practice, we show minimal eye contact, we don't talk unless necessary, that's how I was brought up and that's a silly tradition to uphold actually. Till finally he walked over and browsed at the Chomthong pictures board, I attempted on small talk and asked "Where's Mummy?". He mumbled some feeble reply, fished out two $50 notes from his trousers and motioned me to take the money.

Other than being in a minor state of shock I was furiously trying to explain that we were not accepting donations, we were just selling bags, fans and key chains in hope of raising some money. But he persisted and I declined repeatedly while he was saying "never mind lah just take" and "no no no just take the money" half of the time. So finally I decided to hand him over to Auntie Poh Chean, our team leader, and let them settle it for themselves.

Moments later, he returned to the booth, briefly grabbed 2 bags and a fan and scurried off. That's my father. That's just him.

I think being in Accountancy has served me well. Is the word mercenery? The moment I saw him scooting off with the items I automatically began my mental calculation. That's obviously a loss we're making and that's obviously the biggest donation anyone would make in the morning. In fact no sane person would voluntarily donate money when it's obvious there's a sale and they are numerous booths of other countries in the same hall. So I figured out, the money must have been partly in support of me, because I was there at the Chomthong booth. Now that's just my father.

Then when my mummy stopped by the booth she gave one of the bags away when we initially had two, so the Accountant me saw a second stab at my stomach. This is getting bad, I'm behaving more and more like those miserly, stingy financial controllers I see in the corporate world. But I caught myself in the act and reminded myself not to be such a calculative freak where God's work is involved. 2 Corinthians 9:7 "So let each one give as he purposes in his heart, not grudgingly or of necessity; for God loves a cheerful giver".

I wonder how my parents feel when their children goes on mission trips and they probably haven't gone for any in their lifetime. How much they would have wished they were at the front line doing missionary work, but the wish has diminished to become secret longing and silent support.

When I was a kid, my father used to tell me how he wanted one of his children to be a pastor. And that was before my younger brother came along. So there was one period of time I seriously thought he was serious and I would seriously have to take up some serious business. Then when Yong Hui came along the mental burden was naturally lifted and obviously I no longer take my father's words as seriously as before. Just that when I recall all those things he used to tell me while I was a child, it's just funny to me now.

Vanessa commented that my father seemed fierce. Not that the remark actually mattered, she's probably the 13485726th person telling me that already. A better idea of the environment I grew up in? Stand 8 terrace houses away and you can hear the howling of my dad. People always say how mothers would scrutinise boyfriends or girlfriends of their children, I think my future boyfriend will have a very,very good time gaining my father's approval next time.