CFA Level 1

It's been 6 weeks since the exam so obviously I had clean forgotten about the exam. Just remembered yesterday that results were due out today, and then started to panic and get nervous. Ignorance was much preferable bliss.

Work kept me too busy all morning, but as 9am ET approached I found myself checking my inbox quite frequently, and when the email finally came in, I only read the 1st line. and it was enough. it read: "Congratulations. I am very pleased to inform you that you passed the June 2011 Level I CFA exam. You are one step closer to achieving your goal of earning the globally respected CFA charter." Truly thank God! Not so sure about wanting to move on to Level 2, but at least I don't have to repay the sponsors for the amount of the exam and the course. Anyhow I foolishly forwarded on the message to my team to share the good news, and after that realised that there was a breakdown of the score at below... ooooopps...!

These weeks have been very stressful and hectic, but God has still continuously poured down blessing after blessing to make things come together slowly.

on roofs

suddenly, in a span of 2 weeks, we have 2 roofs over our heads.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

update soon!

PHAT!

collected my wedding gown today, and like I predicted, those measurements the lady took at the shop last time were too good to be true! size 4, come on... i'd be quite happy being an 8.

the dress fit, but i wouldn't have been able to stay in it for more than half an hour without suffocating; and i'd quite like to breathe normally on my wedding day, thankyouverymuch. anyway, so it's too late to order another dress in size 6 or something larger, so i guess i'll either just pay £30 for the tailors to take it out slightly at the waist, or i'd have to make sure i lose some flab to fit it!

to be quite honest, exercise has taken much a back-seat in recent months. ever since the CFA classes started, the thought of going to the gym or exercising never even crossed my mind. Since i still eat the same amount of food/ junk food, and the miracle of youthful metabolism isn't quite working to my favour anymore, i can feel the inches getting added on. all that will have to change very soon, starting in 2 weeks. though i wish i could go do something NOW.

guess my health is also starting to deteriorate. Just as I was starting to get complacent about not having been stricken by serious illness since moving here, i nearly passed out at work (again!). absolutely hate causing unnecessary drama and having all the boys in the office find out the reason why, but i'm just thankful that they are all so sweet and nice. 2 of them even walked me down to the sick bay just in case i fainted on the way... and the only other lady in my team insisted on taking me home in a cab. i'm truly blessed. on a lighter note, that blue shirt i have in my wardrobe is cursed - was wearing that same shirt when i last fainted at work, and also when i got knocked down by a bicycle. coincidence?

owell, like daddy says, i just have to deal with one thing at a time. and it is now time to study. just finished the 1st part of my 1st mock exam. couldn't sit there for the whole duration of the paper (3 hours), as expected, but just rushed through and did it in 2. the result: a multitude of errors. Somehow just can't seem to remember the gazillion things and grasp some key concepts, especially in the area of economics (yucks! who even cares?). God help me in these last 2 weeks.

better return to the horrible books, and save my story finally using the NHS for another time.

235 of 246

as with all other singaporean couples out there trying to settle down, we tried to apply for a HDB flat. Both times it was just a formality, thinking that we were probably not going to get it given the high odds against us (9:1 for the 1st time and 8:1 for the second). but time was running out for us, and we needed to double our chance quickly (but failing twice).

So the first time in Mar, i was quite relieved to have received an email from HDB essentially saying "thanks for playing, try again". afterall, I didn't really fancy Sengkang.

However, to my pleasant surprise this morning, I got an email this morning saying that the ballot for April had been completed and I have been assigned queue number 235. Was quite happy (ok, more relieved) at first, until i found out that actually the number of flats available is 246. This essentially means that we'd prob be left with not much of a choice at all. but then again, some choice is better than not having the option at all. not that i really like punggol... but what God gives, it's probably better just to take and say 'thank you'.

so, we'll see what happens, but at least that is one thing settled! all in all, i'm still thankful that the process went so quickly for us, as so many people before us have tried countless times and are still unsuccessful.

Dear Diary (13 Apr)

13 Apr 11

Dear Diary,

Today, Ah Gong died. While the rest of the family was gathered at his bedside as he slipped away, there I was, 10,000 miles away, frantically trying to find a way home.

But I didn’t make it in time.

Was still on the way to Heathrow when Sharon told me that he was gone.

My last words to him, in very broken hokkien, was a mixture of “wait for me to come back today”, “please believe in Jesus now, don’t’ delay, there’s no more time”, and “remember I’m getting married this year?” and then I couldn’t say anymore, I didn’t know what else to say. Aunt Carrie sounded distraught enough, telling me in a hurry to speak to Ah Gong because he was passing away, and that was 7.20am in the morning. He finally went his way at 4.15pm. (All London times)

I’m still waiting for the flight, after missing the 1^st one I booked for this afternoon. Can’t seem to do anything. I didn’t bring any book, save the CFA, which I have absolutely no heart to read. I didn’t pack much with me this time, travelling light for once. After all, when it’s a matter of life and death, how much can one carry?

I’m not sure what Ah Gong left behind in material terms. He worked hard all his life, especially in the earlier days. Ah Ma used to tell me the stories of how he would do back-breaking coolie work to feed the family of 5 children. He was always skinny from the time I knew him, his lean fame definitely carrying more muscle than fat. It didn’t take me very many years to overtake him in weight. At his healthiest, he was 45kg at most. The grandparents had a large role to play in bringing Sharon and I up, given how much time we spent with them before and after kindergarten each day (remembering that school only lasted 3 hours then). They gave us breakfast, lunch and dinner, and we used to be at their place everyday. This has now evolved into a Friday night tradition, where the whole family gathers for a meal every Friday night, only missing out in exceptional circumstances. Any attempts to arrive late would be thwarted by his constant phone calls. He must have looked forward so much to having everyone together. Ah Gong’s culinary skills were top-notch, and he used to rule the kitchen, making all kinds of food from sting-ray on freshly plucked banana leaf, crabs, the clams we used to pick from Kranji beach, curry, and the best egg toufu with ketchup dish in the world. But he stopped cooking quite a few years ago. That was when his health started to fail him. He has been in and out of hospital since, and never really recovered fully.

Ah Gong was also very cool. He used to have the funkiest things like tinted glasses, chunky rings and crocs. He had no qualms walking to the market to have a sit down meal alone, where we bumped into him a few times. In his latter years he also had a mobile phone with a very cool ringtone. I also remember him asking me to help him put Ah Ma’s picture on his phone wall, which was very sweet. He didn’t get much education, but he tried to teach us English when we were in kindergarten, copying out months and days of the week from the calendar, practicing with us.

He was also a true adventurer, and really the 1^st one in our family to migrate. Coming to Singapore from the sleepy fishing village of Pulau Ketam was his idea. He came, found work, and went back to bring his family over. Just a few weeks ago, he insisted on making a trip back there, which my parents obliged in taking him. I hear that he endured the whole journey in the car and was truly happy to have made it there. Maybe at that point he knew the battery bar was running low.

The only thing that remains a mystery, and will continually haunt us for the rest of our lifetimes, was whether he was saved. He has heard the Gospel many times, but never wanted to believe, mostly because he was afraid about how the rest of the relatives would view him. Afterall, he used to be the Taoist medium who got into scary trances. Apparently, Uncle Kelvin and Auntie Bee Pheng spoke to him a few days ago, and he nodded twice, when asked twice if he wanted to believe. That is a huge reaction, considering the next day he could only move his eyes. He did try to react by closing his eyes when my mum mentioned Jesus, which could be taken in 2 senses. The whole day today, I prayed that the Lord would be gracious to him and not harden his soul any longer. If he had been snatched from Satan’s grip, even at the jaws of death, then God could take him away into eternity even if I don’t make it home in time. Because I know it would be goodnight, not goodbye. I didn’t make it home, but I’m not sure if it’s a prayer answered. Afterall, who am I that God should listen to me?

I don’t know what to do when I get back, and I’m not sure I’m prepared for what I’m about to witness. But no amount of preparation will prepare one for the final moment. Yet, I can’t wait to be home, to be with the family. It is truly a big family that has gone through thick and thin together. That was one wonderful thing Ah Gong left behind, one that surpasses everything else. I love all of them, and I know we all miss Ah Gong already.

Now get me on that plane; it will be the longest flight of my life but I know at the end of it is a family that grieves together.

Heathrow Airport Terminal 3

London

1929h