Reliving The Past

Long weekends are always filled with such apprehension don't you think? All that pressure to do something special just because we have a whole extra day free. I spent the run up to Wesak Day surfing for last minute deals and getting stressed out that everything was fully booked. I think I got it from my Dad who itches all year long for any excuse to set off for a good time. I was doomed to a miserable weekend as friends boarded flights for long weekends in Phuket and I was summoned for a brain storming meeting on a public holiday.

All was not lost though. Strangely enough, this weekend, I found myself on a little trip myself - down memory lane and I ended up having a whale of a time. Swashbuckling light-saber encounters, a forgotten black book and a bit of frou frou can do wonders in lifting a run-of-the-mill weekend out of the present and into the past.

It started off on Friday night, which was wild as I stayed up till 3am rekindling my crush on Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi. I remembered watching it for the first time on the carpeted floor of the RSGC Main Lounge as lust-struck teenagers fondled each other in dark corners. Obviously I was not one of them because I remembered the movie well. I whooped when the Emperor fell to his death and kind of imploded into a blue flame and cheered alongside the Ewoks when the Battleship Planet (or whatever it's called) exploded in space. Would you believe it I actually teared when Darth Vader removed his dreaded mask, marking the end of an era and revealing to the world, his lovely hunky Hayden Cristensen face, whitened by years behind the persona of Darth Vader (and lots of compact powder) and welcoming a new epoch of light, democracy and hope. It was a momentous moment for me, sitting in my room, in my terrace house, in Kuala Lumpur.

On Saturday, Bee and I met up with Fishball, a blast from the past - a mate we used to party and wakeboard with before thirty-somethingdom and its accompanying "too much work, too many responsibilities" excuses separated us. Fishball is a hoot and hasn't changed except that he's skinnier now. He was just as drunk and as fearless as before and being driven around the sweaty, party-going streets of KL by him whilst under the influence of alcohol was a mad but strangely nostalgic thing to do. Not to mention, rather fun (in a roller coaster sort of way).

After short stints at Frangi and Chynna, we ventured into the land of Frou Frou in the form of a Barbarran night held at Bond. Apparently Barbarran night means 80s music which is news to me because I was way too wasted back in those days to realise what was playing. Bond was like a meat market, packed with the obligatory skinny young things but refreshing also, with the presence of old meat, like me and Bee for example. It was a relief to see so many old friends (old as in I have known them for so long) and just chilling comfortably by the bar was strangely relaxing (how I achieved this at a club so crowded sardines would have complained, I don't know). A far cry from the real Barbarran days where there was always an overwhelming pressure to "work the crowd". Bee and I flicked our rebonded hair, drank lots of vodka and flirted with lots of men and they weren't all younger than us! Hahaha!

Hungover and seriously deprived of sleep the next day, I stuffed myself with a huge Overseas lunch (1 1/2 bowls of rice and lost of char siu!) and made the unwise move to rock climb. I figured that all I needed to see me to the top was a bucketful of enthusiasm and a brand new Black Diamond Focus harness (in S may I add - yes, yes, I know it's a unisex harness but I live off cheap thrills). Yea rite - I completely bombed! I was so shit. Since then, I have slept and slept and my muscles are still aching from pushing myself too hard. Lesson learned: do not rock climb when hungover and tired. Duh! Common sense to some, big hard lesson for me.

Bee has been delving into the secrets of the past, reliving memories from her life from 5 years ago. She is a library of information with all those records shestores in the form of her diaries. She has publications that date back to when we were 12! Reading excerpts from it is normally hugely embarassing - it's a "I wore what?", " I fancied who?", " I did that?!!!" kind of experience. Not recommended unless you are ready to face your demons. Apparently she says we were "popper" than we remembered and partied in a way that was not normal for people to do. That explains why we are the old hags we are today!

I am actually looking forward to a nice normal week in the present, with work to catch up on, cheques to collect (hopefully), ZW to ferry around (would you believe I was hanging out at Kuen Cheng school at midday yesterday?!) and meals to plan. Speaking of reliving the past, this week, I am looking forward to Grease The Musical - that should be a real hoot! Flashback to teenage years dressed as Madonna singing to '50s music and falling majorly in love with Kenickie (or however you spell his name).

It's fun to relive the past no? In my frou frou state on Saturday night I noticed that Bond is planning to host a series of "nights" in August, Faces Night, Phase 2 Night. Viva Night in particular caught my eye. I wonder what music they will play then? See you there!