Therapy it seems

I used to think that anything worth reading that came out of me was borne of some sort of pain or confusion or anger. It seemed I made sense trying to make sense of the things around me, if you get my drift.

Now, not so. Sure, it may be more emotive to speak out of turbulence, but I realise that a writer will always write. Even where there's nothing to write about. Like a silent chatterbox. Like how a story teller will always tell stories, even when there isn't much of a plot. Magic is conjured when it needs to be.

So after one of many hiatus (is there are plural for this word?), I'm back. As usual, with nothing much to report on except that no, my life is not in jeopardy. No heartache, no soul searching. No drama.

Just clear blue waters and the gentle lap of waves. Life is rather stable actually, which is  nice. A tad boring? Not at all! I have a dirty little secret to share. Oh, it's so dirty.

Every weekend, I strip down to my undies and I hang upside down. Like a bat. With a bunch of girls.

OK, so the 'secret' is out. I'm a pole dancer.

Love it.

I mean I try. Pole dancing is to my stable soul, what rock climbing was for my turbulent soul.

Cryptic yes. Way to cryptic for shallow me. But how true.
So I opened my mind and my heart, and my legs too.

I can honsetly say that pole is one of the hardest things I've had to do. Both physically as well as mentally. But gees, it's way more therapeutic than a shrink (trust me) but not cheaper. Definitely not cheaper. Who would have thought that skanky leather, lace and string would add up to so much?

Fat Ass

I know I'm not supposed to be here but just wanted to say one last thing.

Let me begin by announcing just how grossed out I feel.

I've not stepped inside a gym for over a year now (did I mention I live right opposite one?) except for that one time a few weeks ago when I attempted to cancel my membership. Then a cute guy told me not to and I totally caved, hence I still pay RM170 a month for nothing and the fact remains that I still haven't worked out in over a year.

Secondly, I've been eating every meal as if it's Christmas lunch. Christmas 2010 itself was a mad frenzy of roasted carcasses and token vegetables, then Sri Lanka was a trip down a never ending buffet line (3 buffet meals a day!). Back home it was catch up on Chinese New Year feasting with "get-together" banquets back to back. Honestly, how is it a "reunion" when we see each other all the time anyway? It really falls hard on people like mw who have more than one family, several groups of friends and work in PR for a living. Then came this stupid Beef Wellington crusade I embarked myself on, just 'cos I have an oven now and feel the need to hold a bake off (against myself!) with pizzas and pastries and scones etc etc too much! too much!

I'm a self-confessed glutton but honestly I can feel, feel my skin stretching to accomodate the additional content. Right now, as I type, I'm actually taking shallower breaths, because my diaphragm will surely pop otherwise. I am not exaggerating.

The last straw was last night. RM30 all you can eat Korean stone BBQ and steamboat.

Fark, I wasn't even hungry to begin with (having had dim sum for lunch, Belgian fries with aioli at Ben's for tea, and a pastry visit to Lavein for fun). But shit who can deny human nature when there are rows of food for the picking and a bargain to be had.

The food wasn't bad per se, but there's something so carnal about raw meat lyng around and all that grabbing and cooking and stuffing. And after I'd stuffed myself so full that I had to stand (as sitting actually hurt - I swear I had to stand with my hands on the table and lean forward, but not too much as to induce a reversal of food flow down my trachea), I felt so so disgusted. Suddenly the smell of burning meat and the flies were overwhelming and I just had to get out of there, except my friends had just got more live prawns to throw into the boiling soup.

When we finally got to paying at the counter, I saw two things that really did it in for me. Firstly an aquarium filled (and I mean packed) with frogs (you know those edible ones Chinese people just can't seem to get enough of: directly translated they are known as "paddy field chickens" - ya rite!). They were all clamouring against each other for air - all uniformly looking heaven-ward as if performing their own last rites instinctively knowing the end was imminent. Then, someone made an order for two and the waiter pulled out two frogs and one by one, held their legs in his hand and slammed their heads on the edge of the aquarium before skinning them and cutting them up for dunking into hot, sweet soup.

Oh Lord, am I never ever going back there again!

I'm so grossed out by myself and all the food that I've eaten that my humble slice of rye bread this morning looked suspiciously like a slice of rib eye. You know what they say about abusive relationships. That sometimes you have to sink to your lowest before you find the strength to say "enough is enough" and get out. Well, in my case, I'm pretty sure I'm sunk (from sheer weight) - the year is almost closing its 1st trimester and it's time to work out, eat healthily and buy lots of makeup in time for the year-end parties!

PS. My bikini is actually too tight now :( and it's Lycra...!

C' yazzzz

I'm sick to death with emotion. Negative emotions to be precise. Simply bored to tears with it. I think I've been drowning in it for most of my life - mine, others' - too much.

Negativity-free, I'm outta here. Is it a phase? A new turn in the path of life? Who knows? Short of filling this blog with home DIY projects and badly-spelled words, there are only so many ways I can express how content and lucky I feel right now with everything. It would be narcisisstic to go on and on about it. Almost like an advertisement to be jinxed.

So its time for a hiatus, yet again. As they say, no news is good news, right?

Fare thee well poppits :) Till wheneverrrrr...

C'est La Vie!

My birthday is coming up. And I am asked what special plans have I got? What achievements have I to celebrate?

Yes, it's nice to have a party but to celebrate my life? I've had a happy life, reviewing it makes me happy, makes me laugh out loud in many parts and tear up in others; overall, it fills me with pride and a sense of excitement anticipating what's to come. My life is special to me but only for now and only to me.

Another year and all the cliches apply. How fast time passes, how things whizz by us and how we age, subtly but surely.

If there's anything that I can deduce from my little time here is that while we might think our own lives are so unique, they really aren't.

While we feel our pain and joys so very acutely, it's really going on all around us, everyday to everybody. We might think our own trials and tribulations are so very exclusive to ourselves, they aren't and all the cliches apply.

Meaning, we are spinning with the world and living it as we were made to do. Churning the cycle that churns us, a worker amongst a thousand ants. Never throwing a spanner in the works even though we might think we do with our humanity and evil. Whether a man is murdered , someone ran for Presidency or started a revolution. Someone somewhere at sometime or other has done it all before. Buddha, Hitler, Ghandi.

And so we will come and we will go. Be reduced to ashes only to be reborn to do it all over again. Just like everything before us and everything to come.

Why? Well there is the eternal question that will never be answered.

Working the wheel. A worker amongst thousand ants.

The Black Eyes Peas & Thosai Masala

I don't really know how I got here but I never ever imagined that I would be the sort to be tied down to a mortgage, to taking holidays in really short blocks and goddammit to be enjoying my work.

It's soooo not what I planned but sooooo working out quite well.

So I guess the whole point is to not bemoan my poor slave-like existence but to actually enjoy life under the whip. The perks of not dreading work everyday, of loving my glorious new flat, of feeling a little bit proud when I give wads of cash to the bank every month, of beating the jam by 5 precious minutes everyday, of substituting my social life with a Black Eyed Peas sing-along in the car as people in the bus stare, of gossiping with fellow Mums and actually enjoying it as intellectual conversation.

Going off on a tangent, I was sitting in Nirvana this morning with my thosai masala when I realised I was surrounded by Chinese New year decorations and "gong xi gong xi gong xi ni" blasting from the speakers.

Life is loveable in all the little things.

Moving Is A Nightmare

O.M.G.

Am finally in!

But...

...am all over the place and can't get the TVs to work. Oh noooo!

Glad to be back at work and away from the mess though.

Merry Christmas To You!

It's the first Christmas Eve I've had to work. Yup as people are running around doing last minute shopping or basting whatever's in the oven, I'm here at work (obviously not working) but still here nonetheless.

In fact, it's the most un-Christmassy Christmas. Buying paint, ceiling fans, kitchen cabinets, wall fixtures, blah blah and completely indulging in ordering people around. There's the spirit of giving...giving orders to be precise.

But, I'm pleased to say that moving flat has not put me off jingling bells. In fact, it's made me want it even more. All the trappings of a commercial Christmas: Santa stockings, candy cane, brussel spouts and Mariah Carey's new Christmas album. I embrace them all!

Poor me, I'm basically robbed of a Christmas. Everybody's off travelling and torturing us with pictures of them skiing or slugging wine in some vineyard. Thank you FB for that. Then Mum realises that Bun and I are actually fully grown (and a bit more) and therefore sees no need to celebrate - "I'm not Christian, why should I celebrate Christmas?", she says. My reply that there is absolutely no shame in celebrating a commercial Christmas did little to sway her over-principled Capricorn sensibilities.

And to make it worse, Fellow Corp Comm Practitioner decides to get married tonight...and so there will be rendang and bandung in place of stuffing and mulled wine. Very inconsiderate I told her...

Then there is the matter of this weekend. Which I shall spend painting walls - yes, all by my lonesome self unless Rich Boy Upstairs or Freaky Single Dad really do mean their offers to help out. Do or die Khaki will be transformed to Dior Grey by Sunday evening.

And to add insult to injury, I have to dress up for a fancy dress party on Christmas night! Firstly I don't do dress ups. Secondly, instead of dozing off in a haze of brandy butter, I'm going to have to put on a very tight dress, place a wig over my head and attempt to look like Helena Bonham Carter - or general crazed person. And its Italian food...!

To save me from this very bizarre Christmas, Thank The Lord for Cougar who leaps to the rescue, albeit it reluctantly (because she will be hungover from tonight) with a fabulous Christmas lunch at The Y Mansion. There will be people, presents and potatoes (ie. turkey)! Yippee! So there is Hope after all., which is the overall message of this post and of er, Christmas in general....

So, Wishing A Warm Merry Christmas To All, especially to those freezing in most parts of the world...Cheers!