An Aborted Abortion

Went to the place behind Tawakal this morning. Doc did a vagina scan and shows me the “gestation” area – a little dark sac. OK, no blinking yet i.e. no heartbeat. I don’t feel so bad.

But I would not abort today. How the hell did I know that I had to fast? Aarghhh, I have to wait till Monday.

And the darn thing cost $720!! Damn, the cost of sex!

I'm pregnant!

I am pregnant. No kidding. Took the home test twice; it’s positive. Shit!
It’s Andrew's. Must be from that Awal Muharram weekend when I took the Morning After 48 hours late.

My New Porn Career

It started with me taking a picture of my naked breast and nipple. I sent it via mms to Andrew.

Then, I got bolder and took a photo to my fingers masturbating my clit. After that, all hell broke loose.

Andrew and I have gone on to video recording my ejaculations.

I swear I have a bit of an exhibitionist in me.

I Never Knew...

TIP = To Insure Prominence.

Ejaculation... Not Him, Me!

This is a revelation. I never knew that women could ejaculate.

In the past, every time I let a man play finger me, I have always stopped him because I thought I needed to pee. Only now do I know that the sensation to pee is part of my orgasm. And I can ejaculate.

It’s messy, alright. But it feels so damn good.

A Peek of Everest's Peak.

Today, at 1.58pm, I reached Lukla and completed my Everest Peek trek. I celebrated with my furst meat meal for the week - fried chicken with french fries - totall nett out all the detox over the last week of vegetarian diet.

Real Security

For a woman, which of the following provides a greater sense of security?
(a) A man
(b) A big wad of cash
(c) A man with a big wad of cash
(d) A house
(e) A piece of land
(f) A notebook and a hard drive

My answer: F

Yes, I am a stupid fool.

Did I say I was too horny?

Well, not any more. Mr Asia is even hornier. On the second date, he had already pounced in me in the car; in the night under a big old tree. It was weird. The brake was in my way, the gear was in his way. Plus, every few minute, a car with flashing headlights drive by and I was pretty she the driver witnessed our snogging.

The second date, even more heroic acts. Right at the KLPac carpark as the audiences was arriving.

While both times, we ended up having mind-blowing sex in bed, this whole car deal felt adolescent at best. But I fueled the problem. I get wet so fast with him. Seriously, I have to bring fresh undies with me now everything we do out. I wet even when nothing is happening yet – just flirting. God forbid, I may just run out of panties pretty soon.

*I wonder if there’s such a thing as a pussy plug to prevent wetting. There’s an anal plug. The closest thing would probably be a dildo, but for the dear life of me, I can’t imagine walking around with one.

But sex with him is good. Different. Doesn’t last as long, but certainly last longer than microwave sex. Well, he taught me the joy of using an egg vib.

Just got back from Sri Lanka with him and yes, we made love every day.

But it’s not just sex. He is a very loving man. Despite his constant burping and farting, despite his nose digging and leg shaking, he is such a sweet thing.

And his eyes, oh those beautiful eyes. They melted me. I shouldn’t have looked at them, I know. But I could not resist all things beautiful, let along those beary eyes.

I hope I am not getting myself into trouble. I swore I would not hurt him, so I’d better rope in the leash.

Moral of the story – wear panty liners, don’t look into the eyes, have your own apartment and buy a car without brakes in the center aka buy an mpv!

It’s A Fact, I’m Too Horny

According to expert opinion, one of the reasons for my enlarge lymph nodes could be due to my horniness. It seems that one of the main functions of my underarm glands in to secrete pheromones.

Now that they are removed, I worry if men will still want me.

Got Cut Up and Didn't Know How

I just got out of my first operation to remove swollen lymph nodes under my arms last Saturday. It was September 5, 2009. It was quite a frightening experience. No, not so much the operation itself. I was operated by a breast surgeon at Pantai Hospital. The doc was great – Dr. Patricia was a no-nonsense but compassionate lady. The nurses at the hospital were very good – fast, knowledgeable, comforting and always smiling.

It was the anesthetist that was scary, or at least what he was capable of. I have totally no recollection of what happened to me the moment they pump anesthetic into me. I didn’t know how and where they cut me up. I didn’t know what they took out of me. I didn’t even know I had a tube chuffed down my throat until I complaint of tonsillitis to my doctor yesterday. I know that the doc did a good job. But I can’t help but still wonder every day, what exactly happened to me on the operation table. And it suddenly dawn on me how empty and violated those women who have been drugged and raped feel.

India, a food haven

Back from India, well-fed and constipated. Too much of anything is never good, and such is true to flour, potatoes, lentils and chick peas.

But you put another plate of India food in front of me and I will still gobble it down with pleasure. Somehow, the Indians have managed to make everything tastes yummy.

Their bread, oh their bread. I can eat a naan every day and still not eat the same thing twice for a month. They have a hundred ways to make bread and every one of them taste delightful.

Their claypot bryani is moist and bursting with flavors. Their mutton (and yes, I don’t eat mutton) melts in the mouth. Their cottage cheese is another heavenly creation. It does not taste like cheese at all. I thought it was tofu until 2 days later.

Masala is huge in north Indian food. There is masala in everything – masala chicken, masala fish, masala tea, masala pickle, masala dips, masala chips and every other edible item that can be flavored. They even put masala in their Pepsi, and it taste damn good.
The two little complaints I have is their lack of caffeine and lack of greens. Coffee tastes like milk tea with too much sugar. Even cappuccino tastes like milk tea with extra sugar. The Indian palette is a little on the extreme; extremely spicy or extremely sweet, nothing in the middle.

The favorite Indian food colour – yellow, orange and red. Green is jarringly rare. Green leafy vegetables are not a staple in the Indian diet. Beans are their definition of a vegetarian diet. Any greens, if any, comes out looking dead and yellow.

Indian Autumn

Going to India tomorrow.

Going to Sri Lanka at end of September.

Going to Nepal in October.

This year, I am going to eat eating more chapatti than mooncakes.

The Universe Sends Me Horses

Thought everything was cleared. Daph said he was 42, which makes him a goat. But alas, he is born before the Lunar New Year, which makes him a horse. I swear, the universe is punishing me in some morbid way.

Horses and are big NOs NOs. Alicia, Elaine and MK – all horses – all headaches. I have secretly sworn that I would never in my life hire another horse. Now, I have a horse man.

Three Simple Words That Weight Down the World

I love you

The three words that I want to say so much, but still couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I had a dream a few night ago that he cupped my face and looked at me straight in the eye and told me he loved me. I work up with tears running down my face.

Years ago, with all past boyfriends, I have also wondered what real love is. The love that I had for them somehow didn’t feel like it. I said the three sacred words often enough, but it never really come from the heart. I liked them, and I probably loved them in some way, but never the full-heartedly way. I always loved myself more.

But in Mark, I found that love. He is the first thought when I open my eyes in the morning, and he has my last prayer before I close my eyes at night. My heart and soul is so tied to him that it hurts each time I think about him. I grief every time I missed him. And my heart beams and flutters whenever I see him.

Perhaps this is karma. I said it so much but never meant it. And now that I mean it, I can’t say it.

No More Puppies

So, I dated Asia, I snogged and screwed him. All in just 2 dates. Chemistry was not really there, but the guy is OK in the SX department. A little scary, but perhaps it’s just needs getting used to.

I am bewildered. I never thought I have so much power over men. Common, it’s me we’re talking about. Hardly tall, hardly slim, hardly lanky, hardly pretty. But I know I can tease well. Mark crumbles at the slightest touch of my fingers. BL comes at the sound of my moan. And Andsia, I can flirt and teased, and he’s a goner.

But I worry about Asia. Nice guy, buy shy and very reserved. It’s extremely hard to read him. I just tactfully managed one puppy out; the last thing I need is another puppy so soon.

Dry Spell Was Worth It!

The dry spell is over and it was a huge tsunami last night.

It started at Tenggol, then at Santubong and man, like night was something else. I have never been so high, been done so hard, gosh, I loved it. The earth moved! Well we literally moved the bed a whole feet from the wall.

It was well worth it fighting the 2 hr jam. Dinner at Delucca was ok, the Michael Jackson Tribute show was good. That bottle of German Gewurztraminer set the mood. It was a amazing night! 12 hrs after, I’m still high from the session. Good sex really makes one feel like a woman…. Mmmmm (dreamy)

It’s Wonderful to be Ditched

I think BL and I just broke up. I think… I got back from Tenggol. We had sex. He asked me if I have a ‘yee gong’ (the male equivalent of a ‘yee lai’ or mistress). I said the politically right thing. He wanted my blessings to pursue his future wife. I gave him more than blessings. He packed most of his remaining clothes the next morning. And that was it. No fuss, no tears, no awkward conversations. I am FREEE!!!!!

It's Just Play

Just came back from a wonderful week in Tenggol with M. Despite the 43 sandfly bites that I am nursing now and the dilapidated room, it was a pretty good trip. Dive sites were good and so was the company.

I have gotten much better at my diving now I have gained more confidence with my gear. M is a great dive buddy. I know he will always be looking out for me.

Something remarkable happened too. After an 18-month hiatus, we had one fiery session. I have never had it so good for a while. Perhaps it was all the yearning. As always, with that touch of roughness that I like.

If there is one thing that I have learned these last few months, it’s that sex is not the definition of a relationship, and certainly not the destination of any company. It is just play, one of the many plays we engage in once in a while. With it, love continues to be given and shared.

My Week with Baby

I had to babysit a friend’s baby for a week. I thought she was just joking, but nope, she just thrust her to me and left with her luggage her Hawaii. I was to send him to his regular babysitter every morning on weekends. I would be the night and weekend babysitter.

Murphy’s law – things always go wrong when you need them to be right most. And so Murphy exercised his law on poor baby. That poor baby was left behind in an elevator (with my shopping bag in a trolley; at least I didn’t just walk off with my bags and only left the baby behind) and was thrown out of his pram (don’t asked me how that happened, he just cannon himself out).

At the end of 7 days, I finally realize why he was such a nuisance with me and just wouldn’t stop crying. I had totally forgotten to check his diapers and to feed him. He looks almost like Benjamin Button.

Thank god it was just a dream I had last night.

So much for maternal instincts. I think God is sending me a message.

The Valentine Bug

Valentine’s eve. I went to the mall to pick up swimming goggles. Boy was I thankful people don’t buy sport gears as V-day gifts. The mall is packed to the brim and there were queues every where. The gift shops had a queue going a mile long. The chocolate shops had a queue. There jewelry stores were crowded. Even the pharmacy had a queue for condom buyers!

A part of me cynically scorn these V-day suckers for the naivety but another part of me screams loneliness.

It’s not the gift but the company that I yearn. Over the last few years, I have slowly lost friends. No, they’re alive and well, they are around. But they have partners in their lives now.

I have always said I am comfortable being alone. I now wonder if I am truly comfortable, or it’s just that I have had to learn to say that for my own sanity.

Loving Someone Deeeply.... Platonicly

I finally muster the courage to ask him about us last night. Well, I sort of ask him about us. And I sort of got an answer. As Vincent has predicted, it’s not me. Or so he says.

So what now? I don’t know. But what I do know is I still love this man deeply. And I have been happy the last year with the “benefits”, and I loved him even more.

So what now? I don’t know. Nothing much, I guess. Life goes on the same as it always has been.

Is it right? Is it really love without sex? Possibly…Isn’t that what companionship is about. I didn’t seek out looking for good sex, did I? After all, I am the queen of compartmentalization. One man for sex (as bad as it may be), and one man to enrich my soul.

Lao Tzu said: Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage.

Certainly, being with him has given me so much strength and courage. So does it matter whether I know for such whether he loves me deeply? Is there a difference whether it’s been said or not?

Nay…

Somewhat A Resolution for 2009

The Christmas tree is packed back into its dull, dark box. Another Christmas dinner came and gone, another year just evaporated without many memories left.

Today is a new day in a new year.

I have not made resolutions for a few years now because I believe in living in the moment. However, I looked back at 2008 and was frankly quite disappointed with myself.

Aside from a few highlights, like going back into diving with Mark at Lang Tengah, and my trip to France, I really can’t say that I have don’t much last year.

I just worked, worked and worked. Every day, I was just catching up with work. I ended up neglecting my family and friends, neglecting the community around me, and neglecting myself. I sponsored a child since April, but has not even make an effort to go meet here once. I spent the year being tired and stressed. My temper was short and bad. I had nothing insightful about life, and all I did was complained and complained. So much for all the “zen-ess” from my meditation retreat.

I don’t like the person that I became last year.

This year, I need to make life different. Must not allow myself to get zapped into the rut. I need more to set aside time for myself, for my family and friends. I need to set aside time to sit back and be quiet.

I need to attend to my needs.

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.

The Golden Buddha

Meditation in the last 3 days has been interesting. On Thursday, I started to see a bright light coming from above. The problem is every time I see this light, it makes me feel good and relaxed, and eventually I drift into sleep zone. When I catch myself, then the light comes back, and I drift again.


On Friday, I reminded myself to be more focus. That’s when I started to see the moon instead of a round sphere of light. The same moon I saw on the first night here. The moon was out in the horizon and I felt myself sailing on the sea towards the moon. It felt like an endless journey. Suddenly, the moon turned into a golden lotus. The lotus then turned around and it was Buddha, a golden one. It’s this a dream or I am just hallucinating?

Today, I saw Buddha’s image again, but this time very clearly. I can see the features on his face. The light brighter, and then I started to spin. I got to dizzy I had to open my eyes, and that was the end of that meditation session.

The most stress-free Christmas ever!

Christmas came and went. Today is Boxing Day. It could have just been any other day in Himawan. Theirs was no fanfare; it was just like any other day.


Himawan is a truly peaceful sanctuary. I enjoy the energy here. Everyone is humble, friendly, kind, patient and respectful.

3 days into the retreat, I feel the difference. My mind is more alert and free. I feel lighter, emotionally. Totally stress-free. I now know why the rule is no food after lunch. I find myself more focused during the late evening sessions. I tend to doze off during the morning meditations; I guess it because of the breakfast in my tummy.

Mark finally replied my SMS today, finally. Huge relief to know his surgery went well. His nose is still bleeding, but it’s expected as part of the recovery process. He is checking out of the hospital today.

The Light

Meditation is slowly improving. I started to see the light that the monks talk about. But it doesn’t last long. I am getting used to sitting for long periods now. The last session, I didn’t get stiff legs at the end of the session.

Meditation retreat is great for weight loss! Only 2 meals a day and no food after lunch. I can imagine Mark will keel over from starvation here.


In the afternoons between meditations, I started sitting out in the beautifully landscaped garden outside of the meditation hall. It’s great here. The grass is soft. You see the leave dance in the wind.
Since I left KL, I have not thought much about Boon Lee. On the contrary, Mark was constantly on my mind. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I am worried about his surgery in Bangkok and his recovery. But I guess it’s also a sign of where my heart is.

The kiasu Singaporeans are quite amusing - so much comments, eat like hogs and walk around clutching their belongings as if the people are going to break into their room to steal their precious stuff. There are 2 ladies among the Singaporean group who just couldn't stop farting and burping during meditation. Aside from disgusting, it's distracting. People are shifting spots to avoid them. Me too!

Loei's Moon

After an entire day stuffed up in the bus, we finally  reached Loei. I am so glad I came. This place is amazingly beautiful. Mountains in all directions, fresh crisp air, crickets sing in the night and the moon….. Oh the moon. It is so big and low in the sky, I feel I could just jump and reach for it.  I am looking at it now. It glows and shines, and just lit up the entire sky.

The meditation group is pretty interesting. There are people from all over the world – from US, Africa, Russia, Mongolia, Australia, UL and Italy… and of course a group of noisy, kiasu and ever-critical Singaporeans.

Meditation wasn’t as hard as I thought. I think it’s partly because I had a brief introduction to it in the US and partly due to my yoga practice. As in the past, I still have can shut my mind down. It goes wandering in Wonder-land. Shortly after I closed my eyes and blocked out the other senses< I start to get visions – about work, home, mom, etc. I need to work harder.

Chill, I have all the time in the world.

Here I am at LCCT enroute to Bangkok. What a bad day! Lost my ATM card, missed my flight, had a bowl of inedible laksa & mushy sandwich, and now, my new flight is delayed.

Surprisingly, I am quite cool and composed. Not angry at all. I guess if there’s anything I have now, it’s time.

The Addictive Light

Yesterday was a really good day. During the morning meditation, I started to feel a sense of joy when I was deep in the meditation. I finally saw the light the monks have been talking about. It radiates a light that warms every tiny nook on your body. It sends a tingling sensation through your skin that brings all your senses to live!

After a few experiences with the light, I think I am starting to get addicted to it. I was a little disappointed this morning when halfway through my “enlightening”, the monk guided us to end our mediation, as time was up. Not sure if this is how it shoudl be or not. Should we be rid of desire?

Hmm… apparently teaching kids to be a good person bring good karma. Good to know I am working in the right industry.

This afternoon, I took a short nap and I swear, I have never had, or remembered to many dreams. I don’t know if it’s because of my mind is clearer, dreams are more vivid.

Thank You

"There is no prize awarded for winning last words. A simple thank you will suffice as a display of gratitude and graciousness."

A Whole New Enriching Journey

I have started to get myself a little involved in publishing lately. It’s really been quite enlightening. Authors are people that we should really spend more time with, especially children book authors. Most of the authors or aspiring authors that I have met are the nicest, warmest and dearest people. They are all full of joy and hope. I love their good vibes and vibrant energy, unlike some ranting adult novel authors.

I really would like to become en editor and publisher. There is a great degree of satisfaction to bring a piece of raw test into full bloom as a book. And I certainly think that talented authors with good work deserve some recognition.

It’s e a new and interesting road. I have learned quite a bit in the last few months dipping my toes into script selection and it’s been an eye-opener. Hopefully, before the year is out, I would be able to publish at least one book.

There are so many good authors out there who really need a little help. So far, I have been pretty proud of my little project to help some local authors sell theirs books. Some people really have no idea how good they are; or likewise how bad they are. I have read some good manuscripts, and I have read some mediocre ones too. The good ones warm your heart; the others might just make you cringe and squirm.

Sometimes, authors try to force to many events into their stories and they who piece of work end up to contrived and unnatural. There also those who can argue beauty out of anything done by their kids and spouse.

Having said that, I of all people, knows better how difficult it is to create something out of nothing. Thus, for the effort, anyone’s work should be respected, and their ego taken care of. Any caterpillar has the potential to become a glorious butterfly. Some just needs a little more time and nurturing.

Serene and I are talking about starting a writers group here in Malaysia. I think that’s a splendid idea. I am quite sure it will be a it will more of a learning process for me, than for the authors.

I must say I am on the lucky end of the stick, working for a publisher and having the luxury of being exposed to so many books. I was at a workshop for aspiring authors a few weeks ago. I must say the being the publisher in that room felt like god. The moment these people heard I was from Scholastic, you can see the light in their face. Even the agents look at you differently.

Anyway, the satisfaction of helping someone far outweighs that like short moment of power. This is a new journey, and I will continue to be humble and open.

What lies...

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters, compared to what lies within us.

She Always Gets What She Wants

Britney always gets what she wants. Always. She has mastered the skill of willing things out of her parents. All she needs to do is to persevere and keep asking her parents until they give up and give in. If that doesn’t work, then she stops talking to them. Both are extreme strategies –keep talking, and not talk at all – but works every single time.

So when Britney saw this stick at the store that she thought would make great addition to her toy collection, she told her mom she wanted it. It was white and slim, and it was magical. Britney was thrilled. She could bend and twist it, and it would always spring back into its original shapes. She could tie a string at the end and go fishing with her brother. She could tie the string on both ends and it would become a bow. She could even play golf with it. She could ride on her stick and it would not break. She can’t wait to show it off to brother.

Mrs. Ng was looking doubtfully at the stick and asked Britney if she was sure she wanted it. Britney could sense some resistance coming and launch her counter-measures immediately. “Yes, I want it”, she demanded. “Really?” asked mom again. “Yes, yes, yes, I want it”, she stomped. Mrs. Ng sighed and dutifully paid for the stick.

Britney was so happy. She played with the stick all afternoon. When Aunty Ah Mei came for dinner later that evening, she proudly showed off her new toy. Strangely, Aunty Ah Mei was shocked. She looked at Mrs. Ng, puzzled. Mrs. Ng grudgingly told Aunty Ah Mei that she was force to pay for the toy. Aunty Ah Mei burst out into laughter. Mom joined the hullabaloo and laughed even louder.

Britney was confused and annoyed, but more of the latter. Obviously, there was something between them that she does not know about. “What are you both laughing about?” I had to ask.

“Why did you asked you Mommy to buy this? Do you know what this is?” asked Aunty Ah Mei, giggling between the words. She was pointing at my magic stick. “Yes, it’s my stick and it is magical.” Aunty Ah Mei was still giggling. “Stop it, stop laughing”, Britney pouted.

“Come, let me show you what this” Aunty Ah Mei took the stick from Britney.

It happened too fast. I don’t really remember what happened. All I know was Aunty Ah Mei twisted her hand lightly and I immediately fell this searing pain on my leg. “Ouch!” I screamed. “What did you do? It hurts. Why are you hurting me?”

Aunty Ah Mei smiled, “well, that’s what this is for, it’s a cane. When kids are naughty or do not obey their parents, some parents will use this to cane these naughty kids.” She moved the stick again.

I was taking any chances. I jumped away. Aunty Ah Mei and Mrs. Ng laughed again.

I felt so embarrassed. No wonder Mom was so reluctant to buy it in the first place. It’s a horrible thing! I felt so silly.

From that day onwards, I no longer wanted that toy.

I'm Older Than My Mom

Last week, Mom asked if I wanted to go up to Genting to watch a concert with her. I wasn’t very keen. For someone who has successfully stayed away from that horrendously pretentious and overcrowded mountain for the 15 years, I have been up there twice in the last 6 months. Both times were for concerts with Mom. I was really not up for another gruesome weekend among plastic Vienna and screaming kids until for at least another 10 years. “Whose concert”, I asked. She said it was Michael something. “Oh no, Michael Bolton?” I asked.

“No, Michael Learns to Rock” said Mom. I almost fell off my chair. My mother wants to go to a Micheal Learns to Rock concert! I always thought that band was for kids, albeit kids from an earlier generation. Still, they were too young for me. When did Mom become a MLOR groupie? I guess I should not have been so surprised, since she can name me Shakira's and Augilera's songs these days. Even some Justin Timberlake 'Sexy something' song.

She amazes me these days. I feel like the old fart at home.

Gosh, I still remember her long nag that evening when I wore my first bare back shirt for a party. Now, she’s the one with more back-barring shirts that me. Long before me, she already had a wardrobe of Korean pop-fashion clothes, you know, the dress and leotards thingy.

I remembered the movie I watched with Mark, ‘My Mother is a Belly Dancer’. Well, lo and behold, what do you know… my mom IS a belly dancer. She started belly dancing class last month.

I guess I am happy about it as much as I am bewildered. It’s good that she’s got some hobby.

Commitment-phobic

I almost called it off with BL last week. I have been so frustrated with our every interaction lately, persistently finding fault with him. Gosh, I feel so much like those petty women I swore I would never be. And here I am, behaving exactly like one.

Friends who were eager to dispense advice kept asking me what exactly the problem was. The problem was, and is, I am not sure what the problem is. But there’s a nagging feeling that this is just not right. Two people coming together should be about joy. My relationship is full of frustration, agitation and anger.

The girls said it my issue with commitment, the kind of commitment that BL is expecting of our relationship.

They could be right. I often wonder if all this fault-picking is not my way of finding the imperfections in the union so I can further reinforce my longtime conviction that my soul feeds on freedom.

Sometimes, I think perhaps it’s what BL has asked of me, and what he’s giving back to me simply ain’t enough to balance the scales. This commitment thing, is a huge step for me. He wanted that from me, and once I’ve convinced myself to take that step, I want to see that it’s worth my while, my effort, my courage and my sacrifice (Gee, that was 4 ‘mys’ in a row). You know, a simple transaction of exchanging values. And with everything that has happened, I am feeling cheated all the “mys”.

And yes, I am well aware that affairs of the heart cannot be treated the same way like affairs of P&L statements. What to do, what to do??? Perhaps the business world is too entrenched in me already.

I didn’t that I was really resisting commitment. But then again, I really have never gone into any relationship with the feeling that I’m ready to ride it out for the long-run. Most time, it’s the challenge of conquering and of achieving. It’s funny, isn’t it? I display such eager commitment to my job, but cannot even inch out a fraction o f the same dedication for the people I love.

The very words I coined up a few months back now ring so true in my year… the great eulogy about “Expectations kill relationships. And it’s the people we love most that we expect the most of….”

But then again, I should perhaps add a disclaimer to my infamous quote above. People who are not closed to us do encroach into our private living space. Is that disclaimer good enough? Good enough to wash my selfish sins away? I know, probably not.

Or maybe… maybe…. this is that great love that was meant to be…..

Always A Tiger

Food & Sex

OK, I think this is one of those “Texas, we have a problem” moment.

Last night, after we made hot passionate love (love, not sex because there isn’t yet), the thoughts of food kept creeping into BL’s mind. While I was planting kisses all over his body, he kept reciting names of food that he wanted to eat. A&W waffle with ice cream, pig intestine porridge, fried hokkien mee…. I told him I was not going to get out of bed, get dressed and go slap fat around my waist. Supper is the highway to obesity.

This morning, I woke up all and ready to have a big English breakfast, he says he need to sleep. It is now 11am, half the day is gone. He’s still sleeping and I am still hungry.

Something is very wrong with this scene.

A Naif's Boo Boo with Fat

How much insult can a woman tolerate in a week?

After a big bad blow, I had a big bad row.

After not seeing BL for a few days and missing him, I made an effort to go over to his place to have dinner with him yesterday. Dinner was OK, we chatted while I ate. Immediately after dinner, he moved over to the TV and turned on the mandarin news. It was the end of a long day and I was just too tired to make my brain work doubly hard to translate whatever the newscaster was reading into the lingo I comprehend. With my brain idle, I thought I’d snooze a little on the bed.

BL joined me soon after. We snuggled a bit, he wrapped his arms around my tummy, squeezed it a little and said “fat fat”. I was distraught!! Hey, I don’t usually have a body image problem, but gee, where did that attack suddenly came from? Besides, I don’t think I am fat. I may not be stick-thin like those runway models, but fat I ain’t.

He was perplexed by my display of such extreme reaction to his little remark. I tried to reason with him. It’s common knowledge – the issue of weight is very sensitive among women. “Even if a woman was fat, and she asked you what if she was, you lie!”

To this, he retorted, “But I don’t lie. I always speak nothing but the truth”. Gosh! In the context of him just branding me fat, this was a very bad recovery. It was like stabbing a knife into one’s heart and now you twist the knife around to increase the torture.

“I don’t mean you’re very fat dear, but not what I meant was that you’re not the skinny kind. See, compared to me, you’re not that fat.” And BL rub this jolly beer belly to proof his point. I think my heart sank 6 feet lower. Honestly, I thought to myself, anyone would be thin standing next to BL.

“Don’t worry dear”, BL said, “even if you become as fat as Lydia Sum, I would still love you.” At this point, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cry and smack him. Lydia Sum?!! Lydia Sum is 6 times my size! I think if that knife was really stabbed into my heart, this would be the moment I exhale my last breath.

Vincent said I’ve got to love him to his naivety. I told him my heart is just too shrouded with frustration at the moment to see that far.

A Big Bad Blow

My relationship with BL is on the rocks. I don’t where the problem is – him, me, or just whatever that is or is not between us.

2 years of pseudo relationship with an arrogant bastard has not managed to make feel as half as small as what BL has reduced me to in just a mere 4 months.

Our lifestyles couldn’t be more different. I am a very private person. My private space and time is something I guard. I can work till the wee hours of the night on weekdays, but weekends are strictly off work. I don’t even want to think about work. For the last 3 years, I have made a conscious decision not to work from home because I don’t maintain distinct segregation between my work and private space.

BL is exactly the opposite. He doesn’t have an office to go to. He only has workstation assigned to him when he checks into his office. Unless there are meetings to attend, he works from home. Over the years, he has lost his ability to compartmentalize. He can be watching TV with you work on his notebook at the same time. Likewise, He can be physically in my space, but his mind couldn’t be further away. You pour your heart to him and end up feeling like you’ve just confessed to a blank wall.

Honestly, I am insulted that I have to compete for his attention with NST Online, Star Online and Bernama. Seriously, I would have felt much better if it was another woman than something as trivial as online news.

Yesterday morning was the last straw. I was going down on BL when we woke up in the morning. He made little moans and groans, and then it stopped. I looked up and saw his eyes starring at the ceiling. I stopped and asked him, “What’s on your mind? Work?”. He nodded shyly. I had no words to describe my anger. I stormed out of the room.

I cannot think of any blow to a woman’s ego. Even if it ain’t that great, show some appreciation – FAKE it! Besides, I don’t think I do such a bad job that department. SL has enjoyed it, as well as a line of many AFF guys.

I told a few friends, and they were all in utter disgust. SC is right, I would never be able to go down on BL again without images of yesterday’s faithful event popping up in my head.

I always thought when you find the perfect love, it's supposed to feel like one of those Jerry Mcguire "you complete me" cliches, make you feel a greater you. Why do I feel so mad all the time these days?

Blood Loss II

I feel extremely light-headed. In the midst of my mens, I went for my regular dental check this morning and end up having my wisdom tooth extracted. Bleeding top and bottom. Geez, I need some of those pig livers.

A Super-Duper Hair Dryer

I now believe that every girl should have a powerful hair dryer. Not the "cheaplak" mini travelling hair dryurer, but those big, bulky one that looks like a freaking gun and will literally blow your head away.

I finally upgraded my hairdryer last week – from 800 watts to 2100 watts!. It cost a bomb - RM180 - yes, I know you think I'm crazy - but believe me, it was money well spent.

It saves me precious minutes every morning. Dries my hair at twice the speed. My hair is fluffier and it make my head feels lighter. I swear, these days, I literally strut into the office sashaying my 'perfect' bob.

P/S: That ionizer really does works - makes your hair less dry, less brittle and smoother.

Heavenly Days

I had a very pampering day today. Went for a swim in the morning, then 2 hours of facial, followed by 2 hours of pedicure. After that, coffee and blueberry cheesecake at Celiacakes with mom; double boiled soup for dinner. Capped the day with a shower and full body scrub with BL plus wonderful love-making. I'm in heaven.....

Blissful Days & Sleepless Nights

I always told friends that I cannot imagine living with anyone. I never quite knew why. Now I know….

Whoever said loves brings blissful days were utter liars! Love only brings sleepless nights.

BL has insomnia. He wakes up every 2 hours to go to the loo. No that there’s that much to discharge, it’s just a psychological consequence of lying awake staring at the ceiling fan. But every time he gets up to do his business, he wakes me up.

With a will to get back my peaceful slumber, I found him a relaxant. Oh, very effective. He sleep like a pig. Not soundly, but noisy as a pig. I could hear his snoring from the kitchen!

This morning, I resorted to sleeping on the couch in the hall. Boy, was I grouchy…. I kicked him back to his own place tonight.

Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery. -- Erma Bombeck, 1927-1996

Love Is When He Irons Your Clothes

Can you love someone so much you fell him deep within the pit of your gut. I think so because I feel him there.

He tells me he loves me a thousand times a day. He hugs me to sleep and warms my feet in the morning.

And for the first time in my life, a man irons my clothes!!! I was totally touched. There a many things a man would do for a woman, but to iron her clothes.... that has gotta be love. It was a dress so pleated, so delicate, that I myself dreaded ironing it. And to see him iron it with so much care... how could one not love this man?

I have always thought I would be overwhelmed with such romantic gestures. I did at first, but now, I am starting to learn to enjoy them.

I still get over the fact that 14 years ago, I’ve actually had a crush on this man. After all the drama, here we are. Destiny? I don’t know. But I think it’s more about the right time and right place, in short, luck.

Wickedly Romantic Trappings

Yes, wickedly romantic things. Not an oxymoron. It’s real.

Things that melt your heart and leave you defenseless. Things that are so sweet, they’re bad for you…

The top 2 wickedly romantic things of 2007 has got to be:
- the Starbucks Dairy
- the “have a fabulous day” sms

Karen was a victim. I have just been one too.

A very dear friend whom I have known for 14 years is suddenly wooing me. I don’t know how long he has been feeling this way, but it dawned on me the morning I received the “have a fabulous day” sms.

Then came the daily “goodnight” and “good morning” smses.

Today, I received the Starbucks Dairy.

It was very, very sweet. But I am so confused.

They attention is most certainly flattering, and I am certainly guilty of reciprocrating the flirts since this great and fabulous realization. But I am confused, and concerned. I am so almost certain I will end up hurting him. And he is too good a friend, I don’t want to see him hurt again.

Oh dear, what to do now?

A Great Love

In love, we win very rarely, but when love is true, even if you lose, you still win just for having the tingle of loving someone more than you love yourself.

There comes a time when we stop loving someone, not because that person has stopped loving us but because we have found out that, they'd be happier if we let go..

Why do we close our eyes when we sleep? When we cry? When we imagine? When we kiss?

This is because THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS IN THE WORLD ARE UNSEEN.

There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind, but keep in mind that letting go isn't the end of the world. It's the beginning of a new life. Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched and those who have tried. For only they can appreciate the importance of the people who have touched our lives.

A great love? It's when you shed tears and still you care for them, it's when they ignore you and still you long for them. It's when they begin to love another and yet you smile and say, "I'm happy for you." If love fails, set yourself free, let your heart spread its wings and fly again. Remember you may find love and lose it, but when love dies, you never have to die with it.

The strongest people are not those who always win but those who stand back up when they fall. Somehow, along the course of life, you learn about yourself and realize that there should never be regrets, only a lifelong appreciation of the choices you've made.

Loving is not how you forget but how you forgive, not how you listen but how you understand, not what you see but how you feel, and not how you let go but how you hold on.

It's more dangerous to weep inwardly rather than outwardly. Outward tears can be wiped away while secret tears scar forever.

It's best to wait for the one you want than settle for one that's available. It's best to wait for the right one because life is too short to waste on just someone.

Definition of Success

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Alone on Christmas Day

This Christmas feels a little depressing. No one is around to share the Christmas cheer.

In the last few years, Christmas has always been a time to reminisce the year that was, to share your love and joy with old friends.

This year, everyone has been busy leading up to Christmas that there was hardly any time for thanks. And everyone is spending Christmas with their men (well, I guess I would too if my man wanted to spend Christmas with me).

I finally skated this Christmas!

I have been yearning to do it for the last few years. The last time I skated was on Holmes Lake in 1995. I had a silly thought that skating on ice that whole Christmas feel – the thought of being snug-ed up in your sweater, scarf and mittens.

And Mark came with me, so I thought it would be great.

No, no, I did not dare have those Bollywood plots on my mind, of holding hands and skating round the rink.

And so we went. Boy, oh boy, it was a big reality check really. We were the oldest folks in the rink. It was so warm, girls were skating in spaghetti stripe shirts; the scarf would have made you look stupid. And the rink was so small I got bored after 10 minutes.

Mark taught me some moves. I tried and tried, only to end up hard on my ass, five times in all. It’s still aching today.

But I had fun. It’s great to feel like a kid again.

And I probably won’t do this again in another 12 years from now. Haha…

It Has Been A Year

I am finally done for the year. No more travel, no more fairs, no more stock count until 2007 (which is only 2 weeks away).

Alas, it feels like December, it feels like Christmas, when you are allowed to take time out and enjoy the last bit of the year. Yesterday, I found time to do filing! Ii left my office with table that was neat and clean - you could see the tabletop!

My schedule has been gruelling since November. I was so tired, I just collapsed last night.

2006 – as usual, went by just liked that. Worked kept me occupied and happy. I don’t know it’s that’s considered good or bad. Nothing much achieved in 2006, just worked, worked and worked. My department is doing great. Numbers are healthy, staff is happy. That is probably my greatest achievement this year.

Other than that, I really haven’t done much for myself. Didn’t travel much (except for Siem Reap and Singapore. Didn’t read much. Didn’t make new friends.

At the start of this year, I resolute-d not to resolute. Perhaps that’s the reason I feel like I have not gotten anywhere.

Daniel and Daniels

Daniel Craig, the new Bond.

There’s some uncanny resemblance between Daniel Koh and Daniel Craig.

No, I am not crazy, I am not hallucinating. Shawn felt the same way too.

Those thick lower lips and thin upper lips. That sharp chin and rugged “labourer”’ look about him.

It felt so strange. All through the movie, thoughts of Daniel keep creeping back up.

Later than night, I googled Daniel Craig just for the heck of it. And guess what I found. They are born on the same day.

What eerie coincidences….

I wonder…

Does you name shape your character? I am sure we have come across people whom we think don’t suit their name. Does a masculine name make one more macho? In Chinese, we believe that the name supports the character of a person, so why not in English.

Secondly, do people who share the same birthday also share the some common characters. After all, that’s the basis of the astrological calendar isn’t it?

Deja-Vu

This gal from AIA called me a few days back. Gosh, I can’t even remember her name. Anyway, she called to see if she could explore some joint venture opportunities with my company.

Coming from AIA, I already knew what this was all about. I asked her what department she was from, and she said she was from Direct Marketing.

This is so deja-vu. She sounded exactly like me 7 years ago. I feel like I have come a full cycle.

A few months back, a headhunter had called me offering me the position of Senior Manager in the Direct Marketing department.

I knew this girl wouldn’t be able to offer anything useful to me. But I granted her a meeting because I remember I wished people would hear me out those days.

And I secretly wanted to enjoy the shock on her face when she found out where I came from.

Insights

These stupid consultants keep giving me insights.

“This and that gives you insight to blah blah blah.”

Insights, insight, insights….

An insight in an unproven, untested theory, a educated guess.

Says who?

Says me.

Moles

Moles, known medically as nevi, are clusters of pigmented cells that often appear as small, dark brown spots on your torso, face, arms and legs.

New moles have been popping up all over my body in the last few years, and they appear in the oddest of places. I have two of them on my scalp. One under my armpit, one above my armpit. I have one right at the tip of my nose and one between my eyebrows (yes, very symmetrical).

I just found one right under my eye. The other day, I even found one on my puss. I didn’t even know there was.

Chinese believe that the moles on different parts of the body signify certain virtues or character. Apparently those on my scalp means I have brain power. I wonder what the one down the puss means (hehe).

I don’t know, but at this point, I am just I am not getting those big one with hair sprouting out.

Tourism vs. Terrorism

We were supposed to do a book review for class last week. Everyone was given a few minutes to talk about their book. When the turn went to Ms Know-It-All, she said she read a book called ‘Tourism’ by ‘Daliwal’, or something along those lines.

“A book on tourism?” I thought, sounded like a non-fic book. I looked round and swear everyone else in class has the same wonderment look on their face. Lucy actually asked for the name of the book again, and she repeated the exact same words. Well, I guess she knows something we don’t.

She went on to describe it. I could hardly make out what she was trying to say, but heard words like violence, homosexualism, etc.

I get it. “You mean your book is called ter-ror-ri-sm?”

“Yes, tourism” I swear, she pronounced it as tourism. I bit my lips and hardened my face, but my liver and kidneys were giggling.

That was a new feat. A total oxymoron. One implies welcoming the westerners, and the other is to frighten them away.

This is a typical Chinese problem, when the tongue is stuck to the base of the mouth. I sure hope those China leaders don’t mince up those words on the world platform.