wanted: a little rest

when i am tired, my defences are low. trivial things seem to matter more than they should. rejections are harder to put across, simply because it takes up so much energy, energy which is depleted at the moment. saying no to the teacher who asked my little one to be her pageboy left a very bad aftertaste in my system. i am so pathetic at the moment.

the 10 days of holiday seem to have taken a toll on me. 10 days of sitting around, doing nothing but eating and phasing out, albeit in a totally different environment, is more taxing than my daily crazed runarounds.

i will like to stop for a little while, to slow down and watch the leaves fall, to sip a cup of coffee instead of always worrying about time running out. to take a deep breath and just let time pass. instead i multi-task and try to do everything. there are duties and responsibilities to perform.

i am so doggone tired.

the evil one

i'm wondering.

everywhere that i go, people are always telling me how much i look like someone they know. from the neighbourhood wanton mee aunty, to the hair stylist, to the lady behind the counter. usually it will be ladies who make these passing remarks; coming from a guy, i'll freak out and imagine that it is some sort of cheap pick-up line. my face is somehow familiar to them, though none of them can pinpoint exactly whom i bear a resemblance to.

i don't subscribe to the theory of a doppelganger but i must say it unnerves me somewhat to imagine that somewhere, somehow, there is someone that looks somewhat like me. if i'm the good one, is she my evil un-twin? does she go around burning houses, robbing old women and kicking babies? how can it be that two person from different conception look alike? my long lost relative who was mistakenly exchanged at birth whilst in the hospital cot perhaps? the freaky thing perhaps is that it wasn't just that one or two near-sighted people who told me this. i'm getting quite sick of hearing, 'you look very familiar" followed by several unnerving minutes of deep concentration in an unsuccessful attempt to pinpoint my evil-twin. well, spit it out, lady! who do i look like?!

for people who know how i look like, if you see someone that looks very much like me walking along the streets of KL one day, kindly restrain the imposter. knock her down, sit on her and tie her hands behind her back, or if you are so kind, turn on your charms and offer her a cup of coffee. please do whatever you must to keep her within your sight until i arrive.

then again, it could be just me that you are sitting on, so please don't be too rough.

brain stimulation

mensa has recently launched a series of tests to stimulate better memory. my dear readers, those who find themselves always forgetting where they have left their keys or if they have turned off the electricity, hurry over to their website and register. don't say i didn't tell you.

ok, maybe in this case mensa stands for me's non-sensical association. i thought i better clarify that first before i get a letter from their lawyers. however, my methods are fool-proof and it works for even a hare-brain like myself. honestly, i'll lose my head if it wasn't screwed onto my neck; thank goodness for the small miracle of nature.

i have a problem with remembering faces. always have, always will. unless someone's face is so distinct that i have no problem identifying that ugly mug in a multitude of faces, or i have grown very familiar with the said person, i usually forget someone's features within a few minutes of meeting his acquaintance. it's not that i don't try hard enough, it's just how my brain was created (yes, always blame the creator).

anyway, over the chinese new year, i have been given a series of very challenging tests, geared for the sole purpose of stimulating my memory. i was assigned the task of distributing angpows....and remembering whom i have given so that there is no repeat.....hopefully. not that the recipient will mind a repeat performance, i'm sure, but my wallet will not be too happy with such a blunder. so, either i remember whom i have given, or i'm throwing money away. that's a big incentive, i will say.

it's easy when you know who you are giving to, like close friends and relatives. when the circle extends a little bigger to include acquaintances, people who have been providing services to you the whole year round and people you have never thought about at all in the entire 365 days, it gets a little more difficult to tell them apart.

i'm doing pretty well so far...........i think.

before i go, i bring you an important message, sponsored from that revered primadonna of the blogosphere. he wants the whole world to know that he has a new blog. a new blog. a new blog. a new blog. a new blog. a new blog. a new blog, i tell you. A NEW BLOGGGGGG!!!!! shout it out, rant it, stick it into your blogroll, whore it, pimp it, print it on a tight t-shirt across your chest, write it in every other word of your post. ah pek has a new blog. for those who's still not getting the picture, go to http://www.louyeh.com. i think this should keep the old man happy.

now i must go talk to him about some commission.

the problem with being a banana

today marks the end of my 10 days visit to my in-laws. 10 days that came and went as fast. back to the doldrums tomorrow.

what is there to do in hong kong? what is there to eat in hong kong? where do you shop in hong kong?

don't ask me.

the problem with going to hong kong is it is much akin with going back to your hometown. when you return home after a long tired day, you don't want to be doing anything. you don't want to see anybody, go anywhere or visit anyplace. you just want to stay at home and immerse in that homey feeling. so, even after more than 13 years of making this place my adopted home, i can't answer any of the above questions. of course, it doesn't help that this banana can't read any chinese. heck! even their windows programme is in chinese. i've got strange characters replacing my 'publish' and 'discard'. i just have to make sure i remember the correct button and don't end up chucking this entire post to the deep sea.

i'm trying to concentrate as i type but my stomach is growling something fierce. it needs some sustenance.....but everybody is still sleeping. what can i do? HD was up the whole night, swimming on dry water (yes, go figure that out). i'm going to have to venture down to the streets with the kids by myself to hunt for breakfast. as i said, it doesn't help that everything is in chinese. granted, there are some english translations....but then, how do i translate them into chinese again and place my orders to the cantonese speaking lady behind the counter? she will most likely stare at me with very big blank eyes if i was to start blabbering my order in english.

i can't stand it anymore. the growlings are getting louder and fiercer. *bulb lights up overhead* i'll bring them to mcdonald's for breakfast!

sorry, got a couple of kids to annoy now.

chinese new year is.......

chinese new year is......


......when you meet relatives and friends whom you have not seen over the past year,

and for some strange reason, they feel obliged to say that they will be coming over to visit you in your country this year.

people whom i cannot remember their name, or faces, nor their relation or their background.

i cannot comprehend why all of them feel compelled to say it, when statistics prove that 99.9% of the time, they do not.

do i look like i'm starving for some company from some distant and not-too-familiar relatives?

maybe they do not know of a better way to end the conversation and bid farewell?

they always say they will come, (eventhough i have not extended any invitation), and i always reply with a, 'that will be great'.

who says i do not know my manners?

i too know the art of bullshitting.

chinese new year is......

chinese new year is.........



.....when you see smart-looking teenage relatives dressed in their fineries,

whom you still remember vividly as giggling, hyperactive and adorable kids, high on an overdose of sweets, jumping around on your bed not very long ago.

then you remember.....


....that you are growing older.

in a little island

overheard outside an old folks' home.....

"grannyyyyyy, are you going back home to celebrate the new year ?! you have been wishing for that for the longest time! your dream finally came true! you must be so happy!"

grinning from ear to ear, the old lady could only nod her head in happiness.

a brief wave of sadness swept passed me. i looked from the nurse, to the old woman, to her son who was pushing her wheelchair. they are all victims of circumstances.

in an island too small, too tight to squeeze in all its occupants, taking care of your elderly is not an option. being filial allows you so much as to only bring them home for the holiday season ............. that is the best case scenario.

the grandchildren do not have an opportunity to know their grandparents. sons and daughters do not have the luxury of tapping into their wise-old knowledge. families cannot revel in the warmth of generations under the same roof.

adults send their parents to the old folks' home, not out of choice, but out of necessity. in turn, they plead for their children to understand and not reciprocate the action. will they, when the perfect example is already being played out in front of them?

i don't know which is more cruel, not taking her home for the family reunion, or bringing her back after the holidays. how many more of these separations can she take every year?

6 weird things about me

another tag. i like tags. however, i've been shirking this one and pushing it to the bottom of my to-do list for a few days now. you see, for someone as normal and rationale as me, this is really a very hard tag to do. who needs barf bag, please collect it at the door.

weird things? virgos are never weird. we are sensible, organised creatures. i don't read books from the back to the front, i don't like to suck toes and i don't enjoy frolicking in milk. so, no weird things about me. granted, there are some things i don't like to eat and other versions of it that i do eat but that is soooooo common. everybody has idiosyncrasies like that.

ok, ok, cut it short, i know. i'll mention some of my adorable traits (and being thick-skinned is not one of them) and we'll see if they make you puke.

1. i have a teddy bear. i sleep with teddy, holds conversation with him and animates him. i even dress him but has not found the time to make new clothes for him. no, my husband's name is not teddy.

2. when i was much younger, i took a basin of water and started sprinkling handfuls of it onto the floor, clucking as i go along. yep! i was pretending to feed the imaginary chickens. however, i was not as young as you think and i was indeed lucid, contrary to all signs that show otherwise. i've not fed any other imaginary animals though.

3. i get very excited when i see a hardware or stationery shop. i like to walk along each aisle slowly and look at everything in detail.

what else are you waiting to hear? that's it! you think i have some sort of sexual fantasies along the aisle? this is a shop we are talking about. sheesh! the strange people that visits my blog! *grins*

4. i like to sleep in bath tubs. minus the water, that is. pillows and blanket are compulsory accessories. however, i've only indulged in this looney behaviour a handful of times.

5. i've no choice but to touch on eating habits again. i've wrecked my brain but i reallllllly don't have that many strange quirky things about me. noodles: i like to eat beehoon (vermicelli), kway teow (flat noodles) and even fat yellow noodles. combine any of the two together and i will shun the dish. *shrugs* don't ask me why. i like my food to be distinct. if i'm eating something soft, i want it to be soft. if i'm eating something chewy, i want it to be chewy. i don't want a combination of crunchy, chewy, soft, hard and whatever. *shivers at the thought*

6. ahhhhhhhh, the last one, finally. weird? weird? what's weird about me? ok! the fact that i don't have many weird things. how's that?

pass! next one.........

v-day

the obligatory valentine day post.

everything’s muted this year, even valentine day. could be because it’s so close to chinese new year, everybody’s attention seem to be focused on the preparation for the festivity. i like to savour my occasions, let them swirl in my mouth a little and enjoy the after-taste. instead, i'm feeling like the victim of a hit-and-run.

i think the sweetest valentine are those little cards you receive during the early schooling years from geeky-looking guys. the innocence of the whole thing just tugs at your heart strings. the sweetest cards just to let you know that someone fancies you, with no strings attached. awwwwwwwwww, how can you beat that? the best are those signed 'from your secret admirer'. i never made much effort to find out who sent them. why spoil the mystery? what would you do if the sender was a nerdy four-eyed clumsy toothy boy?

valentine is not quite the same for old married couples, as contrasted with partners who are just starting out their journey in life together, and i'm not making any reference to the age. the pitter patter of the heartbeat as you wait in anticipation for his gestures, the excitement and nervousness of expressing your feelings to a person you have long admired, the shyness as you stare into his eyes over the candlelight....i've left those behind eons ago. in its place is something which is not all that bad.

instead of the thunderous beatings of the heart, i get a warm and cosy feeling when i lean close. i traded the butterflies in my stomach for a feeling that i belong, that i've come home. there may be no roses on my table, which will wither and die in a fortnight anyway. in its place, i get gestures of love everyday, staring bluntly in my face. best of all, he has become someone in whose presence i can unabashedly devour my crabs, licking fingers and all.

admitedly, it wasn't always like that. we went past stormy seas and trecherous mountains to reach this calm port. i nagged and nagged to twist one drop of romance from him, which wasn't quite worth all the effort in the end. i've watched other romantic couples with a drop of tear in the corner of my eye. i don't know if it was maturity or mellowness in my old age that finally tempered it all. i don't know if he had changed or i have.

i no longer need valentine day to see the love in his eyes.

strike it rich

i have struck lottery!

oh yes, you heard me right! i have struck lottery! nowwww.. don't come knocking on my door, pretending to be my good friend and all. there's no free lunch here :-p

with odds like 0.0618%, i am greatly honoured to be one of the 309 lucky winners. infact, i didn't even know i submitted any entries or bought any 'scratch-the-surface' cards, which was why it came as a total surprise when i realise i was one of the 309. 309 out of 500,000.

funny, you say? the big sweep lottery has more tickets than that? that's because i won the tm net lucky draw, not the one that is open to the general public.

out of 500,000 subscribers, only 309 lucky households will get the prize of having a dysfunctional broadband connection, the result of one (1!!) faulty cable. i am one of the lucky few. what an honour! *rolls eyes*

so, don't blame me if i haven't visited your site recently.

i'm busy hunting high and low for a workable connection.

intimacy

i fear it as much as i crave it.

the walls around me have become part of my world, my being. without it, i will be lost. without it, i will not know how to interact. i like the detachment it provides me, the surreal world it harbors.

i sit in my cocoon, away from the judging eyes of the world. i hide in a place where words and opinions mean nothing.

yet, at the same time, i yearn to connect. i look longingly at people baring their souls and wish that i am part of them. sadly i know that i will never be.

these walls have trapped me within.

friday

it's friday and i have nothing to blog about. the brain is closing for the weekend and i'm totally exhausted. one more party and countless obligations left on my check-list before i go off for the holidays. the last i wrote, i was disappointed with the lack of festivity mood here but i am determined to change that, even if it means getting new underwears and clothes to get into the mood of things. however, the way things are going now, i'm lucky to spend chinese new year awake with my eyes wide open.

it's 3pm now and i've got another 4 hours for me to prim, dress my best and put all those paints and plaster on for the party tonight. i didn't have time to get any new clothes yet, so can cinderella's godmother please come out of retirement and make some magic with her wand?

we are having the clan reunion tonight, which is one whole week early. last night was my second time doing the 'low sang' thingy and i' m pretty sure there will be another one tonight. rapidly getting tired of it. the novelty wore off... years ago. if i doggedly hold on to my chopsticks tonight and determinedly continue even when others have long stopped, will i get a windfall in my bank account this year?

i'm leaving the bitchy me in the closet again tonight. for once, wouldn't it be nice to say, 'no lah, no more plans for having more kids. what do you think i am? pig ah? you want to pay for my tummy tuck and plastic surgery? ', instead of the demure 'haha. 2 is enough'?

i'm also sick of eating abalone and shark's fins soup. that sounds rather pretentious. i don't refuse to eat it but i don't see what's the fuss about? the spongy twangy bite of the two which has absolutely no taste except for the chicken soup and chinese ham that went into the process of cooking it (slurp the soup only then!!). the only time that people seems to order it is when they want to impress others. how pretentious.

i wonder. i wonder why you are sitting there, listening to me ranting? i told you i have nothing to blog about today but you continued to read all this crap. sigh! *shakes head sadly* poor thing.

i'm crabby today. annie says i am.

abstract

ever walked into a museum and stared at an abstract painting?

you have the option of guessing what the artist is trying to convey…or you can interpret it whichever way you like.


the sweet is the child’s greatest desire, her love, her need, her existence. it is the food for her soul. she dreams of the taste, the feel in the mouth as she rolls it around and suck it, savouring its sweetness.

her mamma, on the other hand, does not believe in the beauty of the sweet. she is ever practical and sensible. she only knows that too much sweet is bad for her baby’s health and so she refuses to give her any, not even one single small bite. her mother believes that her love is enough for her little darling and the absence of such a small thing in her life will not make a difference. even though she knows that the child craves for the sweet everyday and taking even a small bite will bring her pleasure beyond imagination, mamma holds firm to her belief. there is zero nutritional benefit in the sweet. too much sweet will cause her teeth to decay. she is not the type of mamma that believes in handing out sweets; she can give her fruits, soft drinks, cookies and even chocolates, but just not sweet. it’s just not her style. all the facts are rolling in mamma’s mind as she looks at her child.

meanwhile, the child stares longingly at other children as they lick their sweets. she understands her mother’s standpoint but her deep-seated desire remains. she wants to ignore the rumblings of her soul, in order to be a good girl for her mamma, but deep inside she knows there is a part of her that will never be satisfied. the thought of going behind her mamma’s back to have her heart’s desire never crossed her mind; basking in the fruit of her satisfaction will not be complete if it was to be marred by guilt.

time pass. the little child grows older, without ever tasting the sweetness of her desire. her life seems emptier without the pleasure; her soul seems barren without the fulfillment. she no longer yearns for the sweet. not because it is not part of her anymore. not because she doesn’t like it anymore. she has taught herself not to need it anymore. if someone was to hand her a sweet now, it will no longer bring her the joy it used to. it will not give her the elation, pleasure or happiness that it would a long long time ago. it means nothing to her now. she lives, but her soul is a little less full.

this means nothing to the sweet.

this means nothing to the mother.

to the child, her life was a little emptier.

where did all the good times go?

each generation always look back on the past and thinks that it is better than the present.

that's what i am doing now.

maybe not better. different.

i remember the thrills of wearing new clothes for the chinese new year.

i remember being told off by my mother for using unsuitable vocab and playing with the broom on the first day of the new year.

i remember opening the angpows with excitement to count how much i have received for that year.

i remember dipping my hand into the ice-cold water of the cooler to look for my favourite soft drink....and it was in a glass bottle.

i remember constantly refilling the goodies container so that our visitors will always have something to nibble on.

i remember the laughters, the kuachi, the children running around and the angpows.

i remember groups huddling in their own corners, playing with whatever strikes their fancy.

i remember the horrible chinese new year songs playing in the background.

of course, new year was never complete without the groanings at the man who brought along his entire extended clan (and probably the neighbour of his wife's brother's girlfriend)

in its place is quietness. solemness.

a desire to hide from it all by leaving the country.

nobody will be around.

nobody visits anymore.

who is there to see the decorations that they have hung up?



where's my chinese new year?

torture

i was falsely imprisoned for 4 hours yesterday.

they bound and tied me to the chair, where all types of horrible wicked experiements were carried out. they scrutinized and examined my fine tresses, pulled it and sob! cut it. the evil ways of my captors, knowing that hair is the prize of a woman. they dyed it, curled it and washed it, uncountable times. there must be a strange custom where they come from which attempts to drown hair.

i will never understand woman, myself included. how we can subject ourselves to what seems like torture for such a long period of time, all in the name of beauty.

instruction manual

that little package that the stork brought should have come with an instruction manual. there is always a little pamphlet detailing its contents, use and care for all things. why not for this little boy?

mine should have been stamped with 'likely to develop nasal rhinitis (that's fancy medical speak for nose allergy) and lactose-intolerance' right across his forehead. i will even settle for a subtle birthmark bearing the same warning across his derriere.

instead, i had to go about diagnosing it like a treasure hunt game, looking for clues and picking up little signs along the way. when the puzzle is all pieced together, it makes me feel like a complete and total failure for not catching on earlier.

sigh!

for that matter, motherhood should have come with an instruction manual.