One by one they go

Yesterday....

Chuck: R.I.P

Today...

Beetlejuice: R.I.P

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....it's an epidemic!

Fish aren't cuddly (and other interesting facts)

It was a busy weekend ‘furnishing’ the house with some unusual suspects. And so without further ado, please welcome the new additions to the family.

The solitary plant: Angus (presumably he’s Scottish)

Residents of the fishbowl:

The guppies:

Fredrika (R.I.P.) : Tragically passed away before her prime

Winona : The flamboyant leopard spotted guppy

Olga : Apparently Russian

Cornelia : A rather nondescript guppy

Chuck : the somewhat spastic guppy with an inferiority complex and budding suicidal tendencies

The Quintuplet Cardinal Tetra’s, very imaginatively named:

Random Fish No.1

Random Fish No.2

Random Fish No.3

Random Fish No.4

Random Fish No.5

The Ghost Cat Fish: Casper and Beetlejuice (names self explanatory)

The fighting fish: Bruce (Lee) – he’s a lover not a fighter :p

***

They really have brought the place to life, not that I was aware of it being dead before this, but in truth, they have ‘livened’ it up. Always a good thing, and that’s a wrap for the week!

Thou Shalt Not Work In The City Centre

I've been attending training for the past 3 days in the heart of KL, and I'm exhausted. Waking up at an ungodly hour everyday just to beat traffic and then getting stuck in a jam on the way home, certainly takes its toll on you. I don't know how hun does it, but he says he's ok and my tiredness is due to lack of sleep. Boy oh boy, aren't I grateful I work just 5-10 minutes from here; practically in my backyard!.

The training was all right, and coming from a person with a very healthy level of scepticism and cynicism, this could be very high praise indeed. I'm certainly not one for the motivational or self-help spiel, but there was enough meat there to spark an interest. However whether this translates to action is at danger of being sacrificed at the altar of the Gods of Procrastination. Hur, hur! Same old, same old it seems.

Days of their lives

It’s only when others tell you how unfortunate their lives are that you realize how fortunate you are. And while you complain and moan and sulk at miniscule real (or imagined) hurts, there are others for whom a life like yours would be a luxury they can only dream of. This is what I mean when I say I’m grateful, though unfortunately it slips my unreliable mind quite often.

I wasn’t prepared when my colleague suddenly began telling me of her marriage problems. There I was thinking we were just going to have a pleasant lunch together when I end up with a bleeding ear. It’s a tale of years of jealousy, possessiveness, lack of appreciation and much drama culminating in threats of divorce. And she’s a year younger than I am! Their problems began because of the (geographic) distance between them but according to her, even when they lived together the problems didn’t end there. She even revealed that she felt rushed into marriage amidst all this because her family had convinced her that her problems would be solved once they were married. This is how much damage meddling people who blindly uphold traditions but have very little insight into a person’s needs, can cause to the gullible and lost.

And to my horror, she continues to tells me in fatalistic tones that they are now discussing having children. It was an effort to bite my tongue from telling her what a bad idea that would be; dragging children into the mess without sorting themselves out first. It’s amazing though how she can function normally at work with all this happening in the background.

I’m not particularly close to these people, both this colleague of mine and the other mother of three who told me about the lost forbidden love of her life. And yet I tend to be at the receiving end of such woeful tales, things you would hesitate to tell someone who hasn’t been your best friend for at least 10 years. I say ‘receiving end’ because I never probe, I assume people are as private as I am when it comes to their personal lives, and yet. I’m beginning to think I must have ‘Mother Confessor’ branded on my forehead.

But I lap it up, all of this, and keep my mouth shut, everywhere except here that is.

Lucky you :)

M.I.A.

I know. I missed two days. Some days the act of opening the laptop, switching it on, connecting to the net, composing a post then waiting for Blogger to load in order to upload just seems too arduous a task to undertake.

Babysat the parents today, doing all the things I have very little patience for, namely visiting the relatives. Them with the same old questions and false smiles and gestures of affection. I always wonder, with all the history of animosity and bad blood between some of them, how they are able to come together and pretend everything is fine. I find it hypocritical and unhealthy, all this feigning goodwill and making a show of stifling irreconcilable differences. Where are the brush off’s and the refusing to speak to each other and cursing each other to hell? Where’s that familial spirit?

Anyway, ended up with an eye ache for good measure. I used to think that my frequent eye aches were brought on by heat or as the doctors like to say, staring at the PC for too long. So how do you explain it away when it’s been raining the whole day and I haven’t even glanced in the general direction of a PC until now?

I’m listening obsessively to My Chemical Romance these days. My colleague calls it ‘emo-rock’, apparently a sub-genre of rock that I hadn’t heard of before. I’m either so out of it or he’s pulling my leg. Like all music I take a shine to, I’ll be listening to them till I get sick, but in the meantime, it’s pretty good stuff.

PS: I surprise myself by actually having a lot of things to say. I’ve stored them up carefully in my brain and maybe (hopefully) will have the time and inclination to write them down one of these days.

Till then.

We’ve just collected our new curtains and they’re so glam! As hun said, now we just need to add stand lamps to showcase their brilliance.

Not much in the mood today (can you tell?). Last night indulged in negativity and contemplated the feeling of being on the verge of a downward spiral. I think it won’t happen though, not this time. I foretell that tomorrow I’ll perk right up again and will be fit to rain torture on 5 moles of one right ear (in joke, sorry).

It’s almost past his bedtime; he works the early shift, so I’m off to do some tucking in. And after, probably curl up and chuckle over a few episodes of Frasier until I reach a decent time to sleep.

Good night and sleep tight.

In a rush

Since I might not have time later (I'm finally off to my customer's site!), I'll blog now.

If all goes well I'll only be back in the office only next Friday. Whopee!, assuming the Customer behaves and doesn't drive me up the wall that is :)

On my mind: Is my hun ok?

I hear he says he is and will continue to say so no matter how many times I bug him like a broken record. And no matter how much he says he is I also know he'll be hard pressed to convince me. When I've hooked on to an intuition like a leech, I won't let go until I burst, oozing out my insides or I decided to ignore and let it rest. Why the stubborness? I have been right before. And while that doesn't mean my hunches will be right forever after, it gives cause for pause and caution anyway.

So, is my hun ok?

..you give me fever

Fever’s dissipated a little. Feeling drowsy after the banana leaf lunch I happily gobbled down in attempt to eradicate the bitter taste of medicine from my mouth.

It’s the lunch time still that descends in the office only experienced by the few that lunch outside the official lunch hour. Taking liberties? Well, if no one stops us and works get done anyway, there’s no cause for anyone to complain.

Work’s somewhat slow. I’m scheduled to help out for five days at a customer site, however I use the term ‘scheduled’ loosely here because if things had been on schedule, I’d already be working there now. As things go we have yet to start (their bureaucratic red tape keeping us at bay) and I probably will not be able to allocate five days of my time to them as I will be away for training next week.

So I’m left restless at the moment. Was actually looking forward to the unexpected repetitive, tedious work in store for me; anything that gets me out of the office and affords me the luxury of just ‘doing’ instead of ‘thinking’ and all the things I’m used to. I’ve always thought that I’d be content with that kind of job; working as a cashier or as a photocopy girl for example. Now if only it paid fantastically well, had great career prospects and commanded an enviable level of respect. Sigh.

So last night as I was idly surfing, feeling a little bored as usual, I decided that in order to kick start my blogging activities again, I should make a habit out of it. I should blog everyday regardless of whether I think I have anything to say or not. After this epiphany, I promptly went to sleep.

Well then, it’s the next day already and even though I didn’t follow my own advice yesterday, I figure this is as good a day as any to start. So here, this is me starting in case you didn’t notice.

I’m testing out a theory that the longer you stop doing something for whatever reason, the less you are inclined to take it up again even when the reason is no longer relevant.

Take for instance my lack of new shoes. I haven’t bought shoes in like forever, and it used to be because I could not find any that suited my taste. But recently I have come across pretty decent shoes multiple times but find myself strangely reluctant to change the status quo. I seem to find myself making other excuses why I shouldn’t make the purchase. How weird is that? So yes, shoes for me has everything to do with blogging.

I guess it’s also going to be an exercise in mundanity, but one has to start somewhere.

How not to spend your workday

I attended training at the parent company (hereinafter referred to as the ‘Mothership’) yesterday; a poorly executed endeavor to inculcate in us employees the ‘values’ of the company. In past dealings with the Mothership employees I can conclusively say that the trainer embodied all that is typical in the way their employees ‘work’. If anything the trainer taught us exactly what not to be; him. The lackadaisical attitude to sticking to the agenda, the frequent fixation with ‘makan’, dragging what might have effectively been conducted as a 2 hour talk into an entire day of loss productivity. As I told bran, I swear I came out dumber than when I went in.

Oh how he mangled the English language! I sat and cringed throughout. Even that would have been all right if he had a clue about what he was trying to teach us. But his examples were just as painful and revealed an uneasy mixture of biasness, discrimination and stupidity. I can’t imagine that they actually have an entire department dedicated to this foolishness. The intention may have been honourable but the execution is appalling.

I remember after my last project meeting at the Mothership, my colleagues said they were afraid that I might physically send some of their employees flying out the window. I apparently looked that scary. It’s true; I have very little patience with lazy, insipid people when it comes to work.

***

Anyway, am standing at the edge of a perfectly good weekend filled with torturing grown men (hur! hur!), good food, much drinking and the company of friends, escorted by the loveliest man ever. Yes, I have a wedding to attend. :)

The Accidental Stalker

Does it matter that the night air is stiflingly balmy and there isn’t even a sliver of wind to rustle the leaves? No, they are oblivious to trivialities like weather. They smile broad absent-minded, slightly nervous smiles at their general surroundings. As they languidly stroll, she looks shyly down at the pavement and he gently shifts her hand in his searching for the right grip and pressure to apply to convey his care and tenderness. They have yet to reach the stage where smiles are knowing and directed at each other, fingers interlock surely, firmly, and silences are not filled with the anxiety of what to say next but are pleasantly empty. So then they are new lovers, it is plain to see.

And surprise, surprise, he’s someone I keep bumping into. I came across this stranger’s blog not long ago, visit there occasionally then recently ran into him in my (our) office building. Now it seems the coy young lady he courts may live in the same condominium as I do. This does not make me a stalker, really!

***
It’s late Sunday night with a full week and weekend ahead. I am happy that the blues are kept easily at bay these days courtesy of loving arms to come home to at the end of each day.

I miss blogging. I miss having something to say, a story to tell.

Words escape a blank mind.

And yet right now, for all intents and purposes, I am content, happy even. But wistful. Very wistful.

I sit and stare off into a distance not quite seeing the ceiling or the walls, waiting and searching for something I cannot grasp.

and time ticks on...

I shall not have to work hard when I grow old(er).

Always a comfort to know :)

Shorn

..and I like it :p

Shopping while therapeutic losses its luster very rapidly once a purchase has been made. But a physical change lasts a little bit longer. Even after you’ve become used to looking at the new you in the mirror, people you meet days, weeks or even months later will react quite dramatically to the change in your appearance. And each time that happens it’s a good feeling all over again.

Of course I realize changing one’s outward appearance in order to relieve or remedy an internal struggle is, for want of a better word, daft. And even though I know better I can’t deny that I have succeeded in distracting myself and alleviating my worries for a little while. In the best case scenario, maybe a prolonged sense of wellness brought on by the change could help me climb out of the dumps and get out of the rut of obsessive fatalistic thinking. I’m not expecting that to happen, but I’m open to the possibility.

I need to be reminded constantly that it’s not doom and gloom all the time, because on my good days it’s clear that my problems are minor and my dissatisfaction, negligible. But on my bad days, minor hurts take on colossal proportions despite efforts to remain in a neutral state of mind. I am very tired of it; I want the floodgates to shut and the dam to dry up.

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Can you believe I was just talking about my new hair cut? :)

The last week of June

It's anticipation not expectation.

And I am nervous too but only about whether I can stay in character.

Whatever happens, happens. But as long as we have fun, it'll be just fine.

It's an adventure!

Cookie Monster

My stomach is making unearthly noises.

I fed it and yet the rumbling giant within grumbles and growls, hardly appeased.

Fortunately there's no one around for it to frighten and unfortunately throwing measly raisins down the feeding chute would only infuriate it more.

Maybe Famous Amos would do the trick. It likes chocolates and sugar, it sure does.

Psst! Can you tell? The weekend hads begun :)

Where I want to be: Somewhere over the Rainbow

All is peaceful in the office. All the bosses are not in. All the colleagues are relaxed, a lazy Friday indeed.

******

I’ve been listening to music and doing some miscellaneous documentation.

After all this time, Eva Cassidy’s delicate crooning still manages to soothe the soul.

I had yet another delicious duck rice lunch at Sunrise, Paramount Garden. If you haven’t been there yet, you should know you’re missing a cramped, overcrowded, hot and sticky, run-down restaurant, where the waitresses are just as hot and bothered and the proprietors shout orders at each other at ear piercing decibel levels and the waiting customers breathe down the necks of the seated customers. Yeah, that, and the best duck rice I’ve ever had.

******

In other news, it’s June!

How time flies, but I hope, not in vain.

"Drama Minggu Ini"

I’m holed up at home because today I am a danger to myself.

I went out this morning to start my day and promptly locked myself out of my house and effectively trapped myself at my entrance foyer as the front grill was locked too. To cut a long story short, I made many calls, made many people laugh heartily and finally got rescued by the locksmith who tactfully asked if the wind slammed the door shut behind me. Subsequently I’ve been absent-minded the rest of the day, doing things many times over, forgetting this and that and don’t even get me started on my driving. All this because my mind has been busy running over the ‘exciting’ events and being occupied chastising my own self for being so silly.

So while I had my weekend schedule all planned out, I’ve decided I shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery for the time being or else death would be an imminent threat.

Listen and you shall hear

When you’ve been a listener for the longest time, then finally find someone you can talk to, do you forget the art of listening?

The art of reading between the lines of a summarized sentence from one who is practiced in brevity. The art of recognizing pregnant sentences cloaked in simplicity and supposed straightforwardness. The art of holding your peace and not goading on an ineloquent speaker. The art of knowing not to interrupt a silence because it is necessary in the formation of the next sentence, even if that comes after and extended period. The art of reading nuances like hesitant pauses and changes in inflection.

Listening is something that needs to be practiced if it doesn’t come naturally, but my question is this: Do you forget how to do it once you’ve found your voice?

A place to call home

So we’ve finally moved in after weeks of tiring painting, cleaning, furnishing (we put together our own furniture!) and packing. Our place still has quite a way to go before we can sit down, relax and enjoy it, but for now it’s functioning amply.

As I told him, I’m still waiting to feel happy at the culmination of what I had wished for, for the longest time. It hasn’t arrived yet and maybe it’s due to the stress of planning for a life together. It’s far from easy and strips the idealistic romance out of the proceedings when endless important decisions need to be made with a consensus between two individualistic people. Compromise for us is a full time occupation.

And so I wait, a little impatiently, to crack open a bottle of wine, snuggle with my love and just let everything drift away. That, to me, would be coming home.