I Love Carla Bruni

Carla Bruni, the First Lady is France is my new idol for the few words she said:

“I’m monogamous occasionally but I prefer polygamy and polyandry. Love lasts a long time but burning desire, two to three weeks.”

“Sex, very pleasant. It’s one of the advantages of getting older . . . age increases sensuality and the pleasure.”

For a First Lady to say that openly with no refrain in an official interview, she had guts of steel and deserves my eternal respects. I am sure those few words liberated many modern day women, who have fear being prejudiced to have such thoughts. I am truly inspired.

Sensous LadyBird Treatment

That’s it. I’m addicted to the LadyBird Treatment. Cupping is the most effective fix to a bad back. While post-therapy feels great, the massage itself is almost orgasmic.

I must admit that a lot of the goodness comes from those strong hands of the male masseuse. It must be those big warm palms pushing into the naked skin. Or how his breathes feel against the skin when he pulls my body towards his to crack a joint. Or perhaps when he climbs over my body and shift his entire body weight over your back, squeezing every breath out of the lungs.

The pain inflicted your muscles feel so good that is almost masochistic. With every rub, and every push, the knots in my shoulders and my back slowly loosen. I can feel the entrapped “air” slowly disintegrate. The stiffness slowly ebbs away. It feels so good, I couldn’t keep from letting a little moan escape from between my lips.

Gosh, I sound like I have been greatly deprived of sex. Perhaps, deprioved of Mark.

And The Flood Gates Opens Today

I knew the man too well. His sms came in at 3:30pm. 4 more came in thereafter.

I am proud that I flatly told him no; that I ceased all communications back then was because I didn’t want to hurt Aerial. And I don’t want to do that now either.

He said he understand. I hope he is a man of his words.

A Dangerous Rendezvous

After 10 years, the dreaded day came. I met Id again.

When I got his invitation, I knew it was a bad idea. I had refrained from replying him, but his secretary called me in the middle of the night when I was in Paris and I had absent-mindedly said yes. Damn!

He looked exactly the same as he was 10 years ago. Arrogant and oh so charming. And dangerous. It had taken so much willpower to cut all ties 10 years ago. 10 years on, I thought I would be able him better.

But no. The moment our eyes met, I could read his mind. And I couldn’t control my own mind. Fantasies swirled in my head, and I felt my heart leapt and melted in an instant. I have not been able get his face out of my mind the entire night. Damn him and damn me.

I knew what is to come – phone calls, teasers, courtship - the whole works.

I have to find some way to hammer my mind to a standstill. God bless me with the strength that I need to resist him.

The Eiffel Trip

Today is the big day. I am going to the Eiffel Tower. Yes, the dream of every little girl who walks this earth, the universal symbol of love. Every girl wants to go up the Eiffel Tower with the man of their dreams, and kiss above the Paris skyline. I’m 35 and have long realized that was a corny Hollywood cooked-up dream. I am in Paris alone and no man in tow. But to see the tower still felt like a dream come true.

It was quite exciting. I made it a point to leave the hotel early, so I could have breakfast at Eiffel. I told SL about my breakfast plans last night and he was green with envy.

I got out of the train station and followed the signs. Walk a few blocks and still no tower in sight. I was starting to wonder whether I stopped at the right station when it appeared from behind the build. My heart actually did a cartwheel for a few seconds. I stopped to take in the view. Eiffel was beautiful!


It’s tall and strong, yet slender and soft. That adrenalin rush however, was only for that few seconds.

The exhilaration diminished with each step I took. Damn, it was far! My tummy was starting to growl. The thought of a yummy warm breakfast was what kept me going.

Some things just look better from afar, and Eiffel is one of them. As I approached the base of the tower, I see the raw steel bars that the tower was made off. It’s anything but slender. It’s hard and cold. The edges are cruse and rough. Nothing romantic about it.

And there was no food! The stalls were still closed. Nothing edible in sight.

And to top that, the bee line for the elevator was turn off – it was looong. The price for the elevator ticket was steep - €30 (RM180). I was starting to feel miserable about Eiffel. My tummy said, “let’s get out of here and get some real food”. My brain says, “that’s it, so fast?!”?

Then I saw it – the entrance to the stairs. Plus it was far cheaper. To climb the stairs, I paid €4. OK, I may have bad knees, but I am quite sure I can still make it. I’ll climb slowly. The incentive – no queue. No rocket science there – I decided to rely on knee power.

Probably 100 steps into the climb, it started to feel like a bad idea after all. The stairs seems to spiral forever. I kept looking up and all I see was darkness. The bold was biting my nose. My muscles were starting to burn. But I was too far up to abandon the climb. And it was not characteristic of me to give up. I soldier on.

As with all journeys and all stairs, there is always an end. And I did reach the platform. The view was breath-taking. I was happy. And the universe rewarded me – there was a bakery up on Eiffel! I bought a chocolate croissant and a cap, and had my breakfast, not under the Eiffel, but on Eiffel! What a treat!

I took this picture and sent to SL. He said the tower looked short. That idiot! I replied that it looked short because I was halfway up. Hrmphhhh… But he was a sweetie, send gentle loving rubs to my knees. Up above the Parisian sky, on the monument of love, I knew I could love him forever.

Dairy in My Life

The recent China-tainted-milk scandal has affected many people. From infant formula, the ban has now expanded to cover M&Ms, Dutch Lady, Danone and more.

For a country with hard a black-and-white freisen cow, it is quite amazing how much dairy we consumer everyday. I didn’t realize this until I embarked on my Blood A-Type diet last year and decided to cut dairy. Initially, I thought cutting milk, butter, ice-cream and cheese was easy. I don’t fancy them anyway.

But I realize later that dairy is in almost all our our daily essentials, it's used in our breads, cakes, cookies and even crackers. There’s dairy in dressings and sauces. There's dairy in my tuna mayo sandwich. There's dairy in omlettes and scrambled eggs. There’s dairy in my every morning essential – my Milo! They even use milk in my favorite fish-head bee-hoon. How to resist?

OK, I chose to be healthy. But I didn't choose to live a miserable life starving off good food. I am ,after all, a Malaysian living in Malaysia - people from the land who loves food, and living on land with plenty of good food.

A year on, I think I have done a pretty good job. I have cut out almost all dairy products from my diet. There are only a few areas where I fail. I still need my Milo every morning, but I drink it “kosong” these days. And I still need a dash of milk in my coffee. I have tried substituting milk with soy milk. It was yucky. Some things just can't be substituted.

Hiring Salespeople

Finding the right person to fill a job tough. It’s my weakest skill yet.

I have had 4 people taking my trade sales and marketing position in the last 2 years, and still can’t find the right fit.

Mind you, I’m no Scrooge; I’ve panned out titles from manager to executives, salaries from RM3 – RM4K. And I swear, it was no shoddy interview process.

Yet, somehow, I end up with staff the gives me ball-rolling exercises and push me further on my journey of cynicism.

I look for the usual traits required of a good salesperson:
- Extrovert – good inter-personal skills and can relate comfortably with people
- Must carry themselves confidently.
- Can speak “decent” English.
- Can work independently.
- Willing to go the extra mile.
- Willing to travel.
- Have car and can drive one.

I admit, my first staff, was too obedient. He was years of industry experience and spoke great English. I thought those traits were sufficient.

So when I hired his replacement, I added a new criteria: Must be street-smart and able to think on their feet i.e. resourceful, quick to troubleshoot and jump at opportunity.

My second one was just that. She was extremely street-smart, and she could charm customers out of their skin. Customers have nothing by praises for her. But she was a rebel and an attention-craver. An emotional time-bomb that later exploded on me when her baby popped; a risky staff that cause too much imbalance in the department’s culture. She is, however, my best staff of all the staff I have had for this portfolio.

My third one, can speak “decent” English. However, writing skills were missing. So was half her brain. A "chimbo" who told customer stock “frizzed” instead of stock “frozen”. I pretty much told her that the only time one can use the work frizz is when one is referring to public hair.

So... back to the hiring process one more time. This round, I conciously looked for good writing skills on top of all the other criterias.

The current one can speak and write reasonably well.

Thought I've done a pretty good jod until.....

Guess what – next time, even if candidates tell you they own their own cars, please remember to ask if they have motion sickness. We spent 4 days in traveling around Singapore in taxis. The poor guy spent half the time zoned out by anti-histamin, and the other half puking. Poor guy. And poor me, for this only means that I can't entrust him visit Singapore more often so I could focus on other areas.

Sigh… God is teaching me to be patient…I know. This is my lesson this life. But dear Goh, oh God, it’s already the 4th one, can’t you grant me a break.

Malaysia - the next big movie making country

I no longer need to watch E! for celebrity gossips. I no longer go to the movies. All I need to do for entertainment now is to read Malaysian political news.

Does anyone know how to contact Micheal Moore? I want to beg him to make a flim of Malaysian politics. Forget documentaries, we have enough materials to make a few blockbuster movies:

(1) a Rambo-Jackie Chan type action-packed movie on a C4-dynamite murder of a beautiful Mongolian model

(2) CSI-type movie of forensic flaws and conspiracy;

(3) Ally Mcbeal type movie of courtroom hullabaloos;

(4) Evita-like soap opera on short and stumpy Avon women who became one of the top women in the country and resorted to murder;

(5) Mind You Language-lie sitcom of language booboos…. And so much more.

Malaysia is rich in content. Some budding scriptwriter should pen all these down and make a gazillion bucks from copyright royalty.

Weddings

June is a month of weddings. That’s because it’s the 5th month of the Chinese lunar calendar. Chinese rarely get married in the 6th month; only the highly spirited, highly modern and the highly desperate do it in June. Fengshui master everywhere concurs it’s a not-so-good month - signs of half year marriages i.e. couples are always separated. Chinese don’t get married in August, the 7th month of the Lunar calendar – ghostly month – causes very bad luck.

Thus is the reason why I have had to attend to so many weddings this month. Yew Meng, Carols and Shookie’s.

I know, I know, weddings are happy occasions. That “once in a lifetime” moment for your dear friend, and you should be there to celebrate their joy. But the reasons I hate wedding far outweigh the above:

• It means I need to part with at least 100 buck a pop, more so if there is blood relation (not that I'm stingy, but hey, these are bad times);
• It means I have to work (jie-mei, usher, reception, program coordinator, the tea lady, etc);
• It means I have to dress up, brave the traffic and waste 4 hours of my time eating bad Chinese food when I could be watching CSI at home;
• It means I have to keep entertaining barrage of the same question, “when’s your turn?”

What can’t people believe these facts…

• Some people love to be single
• Some people can live together and do need to be married
• Some people can have perfect companions and don’t need to live together
• In fact, some people love themselves so much and are entertained by themselves so much, they never get lonely and they don’t need companions.
• Some people don’t need a STATUS
• Some women don’t need husbands, and definitely no maternal instinct for children (even in singular form!)

My aunt said I 'm not getting any younger - the usual. And this was coming from someone who got married at 48 and is still not 100% happy (albeit 95%).

I was actually quite offended this afternoon when this question shot from the mouth of my dear gay friend, Kenny. I rolled my eyes at him – “What about you? Do you ever think about getting married some day”? He answers “No” without thinking, but said “It’s different for you” – meaning because I am a woman. Once would think that gays being common victims of a stereotypical society would be one of the least stereotypical people. Guess not…

So, I have decided to employ a new strategy. Actual an old principle applied onto new settings. Every Chinese New Year Loh Sang, Wedding, whatsoever, I am going to bring a new man. Can’t convince them, confuse the helluva them…..

Sometimes We Do Need to Believe In The Good Ol’ Witch Doctor

Malaysian doctors prescribe antibiotics like candies, especially those locums. Every sick patient walked out with bag of colourful capsules.

I’m no fan of antibiotics. I totally agree with the effects of antibiotics resistances. Over the years, I have found that taking antibiotics all the time cause your immune system to be ineffective. Bacterias evolves and get stronger. Body's immune system on the other has not been had to fight anything, gets protected and lazy, subsequently becomes a weak army.

In fact, the last years times, every time I got sick, I allowed my body to battle it out on her own. I recovered eventually, albeit it took a little longer. But slowly, I got sick less often.

3 days ago, my arched nemesis came back to haunted me, after more than 18 months – my 2 useless ‘good for nothing but trouble’ tonsils.

I had fever all day and the fever came and went. Every time I took paracetamol, it subsided. About 5 to 6 hours later, after the effects of the medicine subsided, the fever came back. Day 2 was the same thing, except that the tonsil got bigger (it was agony to even swallow my saliva), and my ears were getting more infected. Even talking was too much of an effort. I had already resorted to sign language-ing my staff. And I was due to fly to Manila in 3 days. Na-ah, I don’t want to be sick on a trip. That's hell.

So no choice, I raised my while flag and went to see the doctor.

Sure enough, doc said “waa...very serious…not just white spots, but your tonsil are already coated in white”. I was quite amazed by my own pain threshold (hehe). He can’t tell if it was a viral or bacteria infection, but in lieu of my dire need to get well within a short period of time, I’d have to try antibiotics. Anyway, I told him, “gimme the strongest one you have”. He did – it was 110 ringgits strong, and doc said he needed more patience like me….go figure.

But I must say, that one of the most well-spent 100 ringgits. I woke up painless the next morning. Tonsils were still inflamed, but smaller. Painless eating, talking and laughing. Fever was gone and I was back to being the usual energetic bunny.

Sometimes, maybe sometimes, must put some trust in the docs.

The "Thou Must Never Let Your Bro Look Bad In Front Of Woman" Conspiracy

Have you ever noticed that when there is debate about directions, the women are always assumed wronged?

It gets more interesting when the woman is right! They boys will band together, agree with each other, twist your words and confuse you, even when they know you are right, and they are wrong!

I’m serious. It’s amazing. They may be friends, they may be enemies. They may even be strangers meeting for the first time. But no no no…. “bro’s ego getting puncture by a woman, looking bad in front of the women, we must protect”.

We went to Sling's new house this evening. I followed Al's car. Rud drove there separately. Al, being the typical "over-ego-fied" mail chirps "oh, very easy top get to my house, 4 roundabouts, staright, stgaright left and you're there. Simple!" Teah right....

I followed his car and there was no 4 roundabouts. 3, then a a left then before the 4th roundabout comes. So, out of concern, I called Rud and told him the correct directions.

He gets lost coming to the house and blames me for giving wrong directions, where in fact, when he repeated it, he didn't follow my instructions correctly.

When I told, Al nicely butts in and say "where got people give directly like that one. That's why I always say 4 roundabouts, then left..."

It was a big disucssion, OK. Rud reiterated it to everyone in the room at least 3 times.

Well, I certainly didn't think I made a mistake. But there was no jury. The old foggies there just stayed out of it and let it be assumed that the boys are right "since they usually are..."

We drove out, and god damn it I was right. Rud to a diff route. I told mom to update Rud. At whaddaya know - no apologies, no admission of wrong judment or wrong accusation, zilch. I was so tempted to text him "NO ALL WOMAN ARE BAD AT DIRECTIONS" but decided to win gracefully. The thing ALL men can't do!

I’m quite sure this is nature and definitely not nurture, since evry man behaves like that.

Sex and the City

I just watched the movie... finally. And in Singapore, because it's not going into cinemas in Malaysia.

Oh, I have forgotten how good the show is. I laughted and cried, and laughed and acried again.

I walked out missing Mark. He is definitely my Mr. Big.

Shoozzzzzz!

4 women went to Singapore for a weekend and came back with 20 pairs of shoes!

Being a Vegan and Being Thin

This year is a year of miracles; a year of things you never thought would happen come true.

The first was being alive long enough to see Malaysia having a viable and balanced 2-party governmening system (not quite yet, but we are definitely witnessing the start of it).

The second was hearing myself lament that “I’M TOO THIN”.

I went to see Dr Ng, the weight-loss doc, last September. As the same time, I went on the Blood-Type Diet (the basis of the diet is that certain types of blood digest certain types of food better). Since then, my weight has dropped from 60kg to 51.5kg in 3 months.

No, no, I’m not anorexic. I do not ogle at thin models and wished I look like them. I changed my diet solely due to health reasons. Despite cutting carbo and gyming, I was feeling increasingly bloated. My metabolic rate was dropping and I was feeling so sluggish every day.

The diet recommends that I cut red meat, cut dairy products and eat more vegetables. It wasn’t too hard since I’ve always loved my veg anyway. I gave it a go and the results felt good. These days, I feel more energetic. My skin is much clearer and I have less clogs and breakouts. My cholesterol dropped by half. Even my dentist says my teeth are better. I have have adopted the diet as a permanent lifestyle choice and proudly declares myself a Pescetarian (i.e. vegetarians who eats fish).


The flip side of this is that my wardrobe no longer fits me. My pants are hanging of me like drapes. I had to buy new pants, but it’s too hefty to change your entire wardrobe at one go. So, I had to take my pants’ waistline down by 1.5”. And it’s not just pants. My boobies have shrunk! And girlfriend, bras don’t come cheap these days, OK. Even my ass shrunk! Luckily panties are expandable.

From weighing myself every morning to ensure that the needle doesn't go up, I am now watching that the needle doesn't go down.

Ladies, believe me… Being thin is NOT beautiful, it’s NOT sexy. Make sure you keep your curves.

4 Days On And It Sure Looks Good

Just 4 days after elections and I am quite impressed with how the bi-partisan system is working. Everyone is more careful with their words and less reckless with the decisions.

I am very happy with what Lim Guan Eng has done in a mere 4 days and I hope he continues his good work.

Bravo Opposition.

The reality is now starting to sink in for many BN leaders and candidates. Even the thick-skin Samy Vellu, who refused to resign after the fiasco, has now come out to say he will not take up any cabinet position. All I can say is “Good riddance!”

Zakaria died yesterday morning. News of his passing spread wild and fast. I couldn’t have possibly rejoiced over someone’s death; that would have made me an awful mean person. All I can say is “God is alive and he knows!”

The bloody Toyol said today that he would be check and balance to the new Opposition state government. Yeah right… Why didn’t you check on your staff and yourself before? Why only now after you have lost? Very free now, is it? I just hope that someone with follow-up on the Auditor-General’s report and pin down all the overspending in the various ministries in the past. Make them cough out the money they’ve pocketed!

Data Privacy Act, Please & Soon

It is my hope that one of the first few things the Opposition will push for is the implementation of a Data Privacy Act.

The same government who assures you that you data is private misuses it for their own benefit.

Apalling hypocites who really deserved this loss.

Who Next?

As expected, a day after the big crash, there are calls for Pak Lah to step down.

A part of me thinks he should because I seriously don't know how he could go on in the party and continue to command respect.

But the thought of who could possibly be the next premier scares me. Who I ask? No. 2 ? The *kapow blast* eliminator?

Oh dear God. Between a *kapow blastor* and Reformasi Anwar, I really think I'd much prefer the latter. Sure, Anwar may not be pure and angelic himself, but at least her has not *kapow blasted* anyone yet. Gee, what kind of example are we going to set for our kids - if we have a *kapow blastor* prime minister.

So what now, brown cow... sigh...

A Day of Fresh Hopes

I woke up today with a renewed spirit. Yesterday’s election saw BN biggest loss in history. They lost control of Kelantan, Kedah, Penang, Selangor and even Perak!

Poticians are all still in shock.

Koh Tsu Koon'ss defeat – was expected la…

But Selangor and Perak were really surprises.

And poor Samy! - he didn't have to leave the party, people threw him out.

No more Toyol menteri besar - that was icing on the cake.

I was also shocked about Sharizat’s defeat. I didn’t think she did such a bad job.

MCA lost EVERY parliamentary seat in KL. My poor man is devastated. I guess they need to grief now. I just got off the phone with him and he’s all bitter about us crazy, ungrateful Chinese.

But I think this is truly inspiring. For once, the word "people power" truly meant something. For once, we as citizens, felt the power of change in really in our hands.

I look forward with pride, joy and most importantly hope. I look forward to a better Malaysia.

Politican Has No Respect for Data Privacy

In the last few days, I have been inundated with sms-es from the BN Kampung Tunku candidate, Sheah Kok Fah. I received 8 spam sms-es - 4 in Chinese, which for the life of me, I could not read on my own and required translation; 4 in English – all 8 repeating the same stupid message to vote for him on March 8. It’s annoying.

More than annoying, it’s despicable. This MCA rep obviously has neither inkling or respect about data privacy.

The sender of the sms obviously knows my IC number (to be able specify in the sms that I am a registered voter and that my polling station is in SRK Kampung Tunku), and knows my handphone number.

I have never given explicit permission to any political party to send me such messages. My data has been hijack, stolen, leaked, etc... regardless of how one wants to verb-alize it, essentially my data has been used without my permission. I know it's not Celcom selling me out, else, Mr Sheah would have addressed me a Mr LKK. So, how did he get my mobile number?

"Dear Mr. Sheah., this is what we call SPAM. It is also called BREACH of Data Privacy. In many countries, it's illegal!.

One may claim that it was his campaign staff who executed the sms blast and that he knew nothing about it. However, whether it's the campaign staff or the database, the leader of this campaign is expected to assume responsibility. Even if one purchases database from another company, he must ensure that the data is credible and permissionable. Mr Sheah either doesn't know about data privacy or doesn't care. Either is not an acceptable trait from a future representative of the "rakyat".

If there aren't enough resons for me to punish MCA, Mr Sheah has just given me the final straw to make that decision to vote for the opposition.

Ra Ra DAP!!

Lives Passed and Coming

Has it ever dawned on you that our lives are so intertwined with each other, and with that of the people around us – their past and their present.

I have always been an atheist. Too stubborn and rebelious to obediently succumb to popular beliefs. I am not sure how I came to believe in reincarnation, but I do. Perhaps it’s intuition, perhaps it was an awakening of knowledge already deeply entrenched within me. You just wake up one day and suddenly realize that you do.

There are also other feelings I just can't find explanations for. Feeling old os one of them, not because of an aged body, but and aged soul. Things that I am experiencing for the first time this life, I feel like I am in familiar territories. Strangers that I meet for the first time, they feel so close and comfortable.

This last year with M has been rather interesting. Our relationship which started out based purely as canine sexual desire became less sexual. We talked much more that we fucked. Despite the lack of passion, I feel that the bond has strengthened. He feels so right for me, like we are a perfect fit. And I am happy with where we are now. I don’t need commitment, public display of our adoration for each other, marriage, or any sort of affirmation. (Karen goes nuts that I can let things hang like this). I am happy and I think that’s all that matters.

Vince said we had many past lives together, as a couple, and matrimony partners. Seems that he wronged me, I hated him and yet we love each other. Apparently, he will be an important companion till my twilight years; but nope, he will not be my husband or soulmate. I don’t have one this life.

Thank you, hallelujah. That's one of the greatest lines I have ever heard from a medium. Forget the hope of finding a hubby, you're not fated for one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. What a breath of relief. No need to wonder further.

The twist is there is another constant companion in my life, may be BL, maybe not. Things with BL have been strange too. There is love as in loving-kindness, but the hot passionate love in not quite there. I have tried and tried - as gently and as harsh as I could - to send him away. He is stubbornly loyal and continues to linger patiently in my life.

So it seems, he has karmic debts with me. He’s someone I felt compassion for and had helped many times, over many lives. But life after life, he was and will be nothing more than just a lover.

I am still unsure how I should react to this statement. I don’t want him to hang on to me like that. I want him to be happy; to get that perfect wife and perfect family that he yearns for. I wish there were ways I could just relegate him of all his debts and “release” him from the pain and suffering of being with me life after life. But Vince said that he is perfectly happy with the state where he is now; his definition of happiness is far simpler than mine. And this is why he still lingers around.

I don’t know. I just hope I have done the right thing and will continue to have the wisdom to do the rights things.

I Will Never Marry

After a year of frustration and complaints, it is now clearer than ever that I will never ever get married, at least not in this life.

I know myself – my needs, my desires and my ways - too well to bend. I don’t think it’s a territorial thing although I keep telling BL about infringement of my “space’. My inflexibility to “bend”, to compromise has more to do with the fact that I have found my contentment and equilibrium, and I know bending would mean moving out of that state. This is exactly why U was so unhappy this last year.

I know the timing may not have been so pleasant, but on the 2nd day of Chinese New Year, the built-up frustration finally compelled me to rake up enough courage to ask for my keys that. He said yes.

Although I have not gotten my keys back, physically, but just the fact that I have managed to vocalized that thought has been such a relief. I actually feel so much closer to BL now because the resentment and expectations just vanished after those words came out of my mouth.

I’m a strange woman, I know…

My Inner Peace Adventure

Last December, I chanced upon a meditation retreat. Somehow, everything seemed destined. I needed a short break, thought of Chiangmai, googled it and found a meditation retreat. By some weird twist of events (and from my sheer tardiness in reading for details), I ended up in Loei, 7 hours northeast of Bangkok, near Udon Thani.

This has got to be one of the most rewarding trips I’ve ever made. The retreat, which was run by the Dhammakaya movement, was beautiful. Lush mountains surrounded the area, with a charming stream running alongside. Although the meditation stemmed from Buddhist teachings and was led by monks, it was conducted from a very neutral angle - no pressure, no influence - it was purely for the spread of meditation knowledge.

The scheduled seemed a little gruesome at first – rise at 5am, no food after noon, and bedtime at 10; no handphones, no notebooks, no contact with the outside world. The food part was a little hard, but I got used to it pretty fast. The perk of rising early was that we got to see sunrise every morning, and it well worth the effort.


Meditation

The meditation experience was good. At some point, once you get pass the fleeting thoughts and are able to still your mind, you see a bright sphere that slowly grows in size. The light sends tingling sensations all throughout your body. I also feel the light penetrating through my eyes and forehead, and feel like what some people say, you 3rd eye, awakening. It’s an incredible feeling that I cannot describe exactly with words. The only way I can describe that feeling is that it’s better than orgasm. It was so good it became additive; I would not want to end my meditation at the end of the session.

The entire week in Loei, I felt so peaceful, so centered, so mindful. My thoughts were so clear. I returned from Loei rejuvenated, with a new calm and wisdom.

A month after I've returned back to KL, I still make it a point to try to meditate, if not daily, at least once a week. I have decided to make an annual pilgrimage to this retreat. I truly believe everyone will find some good in meditation.

On that note, I want to say that I awed by the Dhammakaya's objectives and practices. You may say they are cult-like, but never in my life have I witness 30,000 people coming together in one single location, and sit silently for one whole hour. I swear, that whole hour, all you could hear were birds chirping. No force, no blaring instructions. Even the kids were orderly and mindful. If more people behaved like this, then I truly do believe that Dhammakaya's wise abbot's visio of achieving world peace through meditation might just be the solution for the current world.

Live A Lotus Life

“As a lotus flower is born in water, grows in water and rises out of water to stand above it unsoiled, so I, born in the world, raised in the world, having overcome
the world, live unsoiled by the world”

~ Buddha

My Orange Soul

Today
Sadly
I bade goodbye
To my loyal companion

For six years, we spent every day together
For six years, you brought me joy and laughter
Shielded me from harm and injury
For six years, you were the reason for my stardom
But more importantly,
For six years you gave me freedom

Oh, the places we’ve been to
Without you, I would have never dared to

We scaled mountains higher than the clouds
We conquered the east coast north to south
My best memory our journey
To land of nowhere
To wherever the may lead
The scenes, the sights
Wills always bring me
Pride and delight.

You saw it all
You heard it all

From my unforgiving curses
To my sweet praises
Those treasured moments
When my heart was opened
And when it was broken

You met my friends
Those treasured women who means so much to me
You met the men
That bastard Daniel who so betrayed me
The Boonster in my life
And the Mark in my heart

You were there
When success sent me soaring high
And failure humbled me
You were there in trying times,
When I could only cry and sigh
You always gave me peace
To find my strength within
To live life with my head held high

But you have done you duty
Been more than fair to me
I could feel you getting old
Not just age, but your soul

I hate to say goodbye
But I must
I can only thank you
With all my heart

Oh I already miss you so
My beloved orange Punto

The Siti of Puke

I woke up this morning and realize that BL did not come back last night, not that it bothered me much. However, by 11am, I figured I’d better check if he is still alive. He was.

He returned an hour later, changed, showered, and plunged straight to be, with the usual complaints of headaches and body aches (what’s new?)

I was clearing the laundry bag in my dressing room when I picked up his pants and say big patches of brown stains all over the front. Looks like some chocolate sauce to me. So imagine how grossed out I was when he told me it was vomit.

How unhygienic and inconsiderate can one be?! Pukes on his pants, comes back and conveniently just dump his pants for someone to wash. And dump where? In my dressing room, where the clean clothes are! He is well aware I have a laundry room, where he has been leaving his post-badminton-sweat-soaked shirts.

I think it’s time I change my name to Siti.

I made a point to tell him how disgusted I was. He, drowsily looks up from the pillow, apologized, and went back to bed. Talk about remedial action.

I was too disgusted, and I was in a hurry to head out the door. I drop the pants in the yard. “He had better dealt with that @#* by the time I got back”, I thought.

I got home six hours later and he was still sleeping. I nagged again, and again. Finally, he got out of bed, went to the yard and look at his pants. Spray pre-way bleach on it and left it back at the yard. That grotesque thing was there, untouched for a week. When I finally could stand the sight no more, I threw it into the washer. The pants came out…. beautiful. No more chocolaty wine stains, but bleached white patches all over. There is karma… thank you.

Ooh, but that’s not it. I fanned the pants out on the sofa and asked him what he wanted to do with the pants. He said, “What else? Throw la”. “OK, then please throw it away”, I retorted. “Okaayyy, okaayyy”, but it sat there for another week. I save myself a few breaths and bundled the pants up ad into a garbage bag.

Yuck! Pooh! Phat! I am beyond words. Even I don’t make my mom wash my puke.

Please, please, please enlighten me how can one live with a person of such tardy nature.