15:20.

Drizzly Wed noon. At home. Singapore.

Am on the last day of my 2-day MC. After resisting a trip the doc's for over five days, I finally made a stop yesterday and realised oh, this must be worse than I thought when she went, "Oh my dearrr, this is very bad" after looking at my swollen tonsils.

But bygones on that. It will pass any way.

It was Ray's :) birthday on Sunday and when he told me about how Matt announced his birthday on stage and the whole congregation sung him happy birthday, I was so gleeful I amuse myself. But see, dearest, it's very important to me that you have a happy birthday. Very :)

We tell each other that the next time our birthdays come around, we would spend it with each other.

Till we are back in the same country again, hey, we will hold on tight to Dad and each other. Things will work out. They always do. God watches over us, and watches our backs. We are covered.

En route to take a land (re: Joshua 1), and thus we are fighting, thus we are in the waiting, thus we go through every thing we do. Because we are not going to carelessly settle on a land to be in, because the land we are going in to take has to be part of our calling. When we go there, when we enter together, we want to be sure it's in God's plan A and we are meant to be there. 'cause as for us and our households, we are going to serve the Lord.

I'ven't blogged in a while. Work has been busy, and I was even reluctant to see the Doc 'cause I want to stay on top of stuff and keep working but I know this break does me good. I've slept so many hours over the last two days their combined number probably make up what I get over a usual three-day period.

A recent article I did caused some cyber waves. I suppose me, the journalist is used to such stuff. But yes, me as a person gets bothered. Not very, but I guess I sigh and wish they understand how the industry works.

The local media's deflectors are oft schooled in the prejudice of S T = hallowed broadsheet, T N P = scum of the earth tabloid.

Sadly, not many have examined both papers to test this stereotype that the system has impinged on our general mindsets. Those who do might find to their surprise that the content differs not in the expected way. And that the tabloid - free of the responsiblilites of a national broadsheet - employs its freedom to not only resist acting as the g o v mouthpiece (it doesn't report on every announcement and when it does report on the official stuff it deems important enough, the tabloid offers alternative coverage to the straight coverage of the broadsheet), but goes out on its limb to push the envelope to bring you the heavy news you whinge that our local media should report.

(Btw, the tabloid's reporters has made their ways to war zones and crisis areas very promptly, in recent events, even faster than the broadsheet)

Of course, we do take liberties with headlines and photographs to draw you in but again, examine the broadsheet. They have used far more graphic photographs than we have.

There is too, of course the irony known to industry people who have worked on both publications - that the tabloid's newsroom is the family friendly one, where editors protest over content being too salicious, where the style of socially responsible journalism is preached and practised.

Not many people bothered to notice but it's official - the broadsheet is changing its writing style to mirror the tabloid's. But since size matters, it's more acceptable for the broadsheet to employ a similiar breezy style of telling the news.

I don't really want to get into work stuff on this blog but prejudice does puzzle me at times. Sometimes, more than others.

I accept gladly that the journo belongs to the public in so many ways. After all, the highest ideal of this craft is to serve the public, to get the news for the readers so our society can be educated with the power that information and knowledge can bring. So, I am cool with criticism and such.

The reporter gets the crap, it's understood. Hey, it's your byline on the report, even though very often, the photos and headlines are the choice of the sub-eds who lay out the pages. And there are so many stages the rep's raw copy goes through and so many factors that determine whether it gets touched much that sometimes, reps don't see it that right or fair that we carry the blame.

But it's cool by me, really 'cause I know the cost and I made the choice. And I still enjoy this job immensely and believe in it too.

But I guess at the end of the day, I am a person fighting on to carry out the ideals of this craft and when you fight your editors for your story's integrity (and the eds are only doing what they should when they question) and the many stages a story goes through before it gets printed, when you defend your newsmaker (in the situations when you are convinced it's worthwhile), it does seem rather well, sad that readers who don't see the whole process and who don't understand it, ends up slamming you. You end up fighting both sides when you are trying to do the right thing. That's not the most fun.

Any how, I am not fighting both sides. A few arrows come my way is no big deal.

This is still far off from a lynch. Guess it's all good prep for when folks actually come after my head for my writing one day.

Bygones.

It is a humid Wed noon and my cuppa black tea with honey is finished.

Yesterday, I read through my journal started in the last few days of last year.

*shakes head*

Has it been that long?

And: Dearest Lord, You have really brought me - and us - so far.

It is 1619 my time and 1819 Melb time. I remain: thankful.

Cherish the days, folks.