I Am Beautiful, No Matter What They Say!

We are so critical of ourselves.

Flicking through old photos at 1am this morning, I was caught up in a torrent of memories. How could I have forgotten about Babu's luscious Michelin arms? Or the time Bee, Edwin, Kamal and I took porn pictures of ourselves in London, nine years ago? Or that we did take pictures on that family trip to Sydney. Or about that box filled with photos of an ex-boyfriend - done so that I could lock the hurt away and open it again years later only to chuckle. And chuckle I did!

Of course, everyone looked younger, slimmer, fatter and with less grey. That's inevitable. But what dawned on me was just how critical of my looks I have been. Pictures of myself that once repulsed me were turning out to look quite good after all. Especially the preggy photos and those taken just after Babu's birth. Of course, the fat arms, double chin, bloated tummy and all did not miraculously disappear, but they weren't really the focus after all. There were other things in the shot that I had sub0consciously photoshopped away.

I remember thinking at the time that I had to be the ugliest mother alive. I hardly typified the image of the new slim mother taken with soft-lense, that dripped of sentiment and nostalgia. You know, the ones of your own mother taken back in the 70s - skinny, glowing and perfect. I distinctly remember feeling regret for Babu cos he would one day have to look back at his photos as a cute baby with his fat ugly mummy. Talk about post-natal delusion!

At 1am this mornig, staring back at me was, albeit a chubby, but nevertheless sweet, happy mother. The nostalgic and sentimental qualities were all there. I really was too harsh on myself.

Yes, some of the photos were taken during times of trouble, where aches were covered up with grins but you know, there is beauty in pain, relief in hurt and sweetness in sorrow. It isn't all bad.

stuffed and dazed

SMILE!

Lost & Found

It's here

I've been looking all around the world to see what I can find
Broken promises
Empty dreams
People washed away by extremes
But now I find
It's looking me in the eye

- Edwin Sumun -

Smiling In The Face Of Adversity

People believe that there is nothing of value in celebrity magazines but gossip and unflattering pictures.

But i disagree. I think there are valuable lessons to be learned from the fledging lives of celebrities, only that they are hidden and that When You Are Ready To Learn, The Teacher Will Miraculously Appear!

Flicking through US Weekly or NW Weekly or some other, I chanced upon a photo of Sienna Miller (bless her Bohemian chic), in a fantastic gown holding an umbrella in the rain. Her dress, which looked like silk to me, was splased with rain water. Her head was thrown back in laughter and the caption beneath said "Sienna Miller smiling in the face of adversity". Checking the date, I noted it was an old edition. We tend to circulate these publications around in the family for toilet purposes and by the time they get to me, they are a bit dated. I realised that the adversity referred to was the humiliating nanny scandal.

So there you go, in the face of a scandal, go out there and smile, smile, smile! Everyone will love you more for it. Of course, she had a fancy gown and glittering diamonds around her neck to cheer her up, but still she could have sat at home instead. But she didn't. Credit where credit is due.

So, last night, I picked up on Sienna's cue. Despite hearing some more rumours about my marriage and pending divorce that seem to get more ridiculous by the day, I ventured to mambo and smiled, smiled, smiled!

Not that is was that difficult. It was nice to be out. Ironically, it was raining and Sabby and I had to share an umbrella with a parking attendant. We were obviously not in gowns but in jeans. Nevertheless I had my armour on - a spanking new rose quartz around the neck soaking up all the negativity.

And funnily enough, after a while, it became kind of fun. Sabby was as entertaining as ever. Her giving a blow job to a beer bottle never fails to kill me. I actually danced - sober! It became hilarious after a while, especially when Footloose came on and I felt those groovy 80s moves come back as if they never went away!

The Simple Life

You know it was such a drag yesterday, having to skulk into my car, issues in tow and driiiivvveee all the way into town.

I pretty much got sick of it and told myself off.

I'm so glad for hands-free sets cos otherwise passing drivers would have thought (correctly) that there was a mental case in the car talking to herself.

So anyway, I reckpn that if I ever decided to leave writing as a profession altogether, I'd make a pretty good counsellor. Cos I kicked my own butt. And I'm pretty much OK now. No more blues.

I told myself that its alright to wallow a bit - cos I needed to grieve/mourn/whatever the situation but when it starts hetting out of hand, enough already! So the idea is to stop feeling sorry for myself and to just get on with doing what I need to do to get better.

So simple yet its a conclusion that has taken me (and many others) a while to arrive at. Its true what they say: When You ARe REady To Learn, The Teacher Will Appear!

Hate Feb 14th!

And it's fucking Valentine's Day too innit??!

I'm Feeling Bluuuueee!!!

I really am. It must be hormonal. But smiling seems stupid when you are crying inside. And the suicide thoughts are back again. You know... as in what would be the best way to go?

Maybe cos turning 32 has more implications than I expected? Or maybe its just the natural downer everyone feels after a holiday? It can't be because its the end of a fling (when you didnt feel anything during). Some people believe that its the reality of my impending divorce hitting me.

I wish my emotions wouldn't get in the way all the time. Makes it hard to sort out the logic. When I think about my future rationally,. ie. what I have to do to pay my bills, what I plan to cook for dinner, etc, I can be quite sane.

But when I get ahead of myself and wonder oh my god am I going to die alone? Will I ever have another child? Is there happiness in this universe? - then I get a little hysterical and end up weeping like a sad git.

So pathetic. I am so not impressed with myself.

It's so melodramatic and unbecoming of a brave and ferocious tiger.

Set In My Ways Already?

You know, I'm not really the type to miss home.

Never have, but am not so quick these days to say, never will.

I mean, its not exactly cool is it when you are on a fabulous holiday, skiing down the Alps in your K2s and Oakley sunglasses ('cos its too sunny and warm to wear goggles darling) and wishing instead that you were sitting in a Lucky Garden coffee shop. Eating yong tau foo and drinking soya bean. In your slippers.

The older I get (and I am not merely using these words for the sake of it...it pains me not only to sound like my parents but even more to admit that they are indeed right) the more biting I find the cold, the less I want to tolerate potatoes every night, and the more I crave comfort.

I missed the simple things about home. Like space. Being barefoot in my own home. Having skin that still resembled skin even if I don't moisturise. Literally not cracking up when I laugh.

I'm not saying that I dislike holidays. But 2 weeks is about as much as I can handle at each go. I can no longer live out of the suitcase like I used to. Drink vile local brews in the name of discovery. Or run for any more trains!

I need a break from my break. I had a fabulous time, improved my much-needed-improving-skiing, spent quality time with my Dad and step-mum, discovered the beautiful cities of Geneva and Zurich and familiarised myself with the ivory altars of certain train station toilets.

But, I am glad to be home sweet home. Cuddling ZW in bed yesterday was the best. But it's the best because I was deprived of it for a while. ANd best also because he was deprived of it for a while and did not wiggle away.