I had such a fun start to my day today!  I got up this morning and turned on my mobile, and there was a message from my friend, Kriss, sent at midnight.  It was a weird message, and it made me laugh, because he was so obviously drunk when he sent it.

 

I have to say here that Kriss holds the title 'My Best Guy Friend" - because he's got a cool job (he's an underwater videographer, and he just got done shooting a new BBC wildlife documentary series, which will be launched next year, entitled The Deadly 60, or something ominous like that) - and because he's a barrel of laughs - and because he's cute - but mostly because he's always been there for me.  (Ok, so I'm still riding on that sentimental wave)

 

But anyway, so I get this drunk message from him.  And then I get another one shortly after 6am, saying that he still feels drunk (so I was right!) and he can't remember how he got back to his room last night.  And I replied and said that I'm impressed that he remembered to text me, even though he was in an alcoholic daze.  And then follows this series of messages - which I am going to copy down in its entirety because it was just SUCH a funny (as in haha funny, not strange funny) way to start my day.

 

Kriss:  Hey, go to sleep, it's still early ... sorry if I woke u up.  My god, I'm still drunk.  I never wanna drink again!

 

Me:  I was already awake lah, I get up at 5:30 every morning.  Please don't tell me you're diving today!!

 

Kriss:  I'm not diving, only 2 boats.  My wake up time is 6am.  Nasib I didn't fall off the jetty. 

 

About 20 minutes later ...

 

Kriss:  My god, babe, the security just told me that I went for a swim at 12am n I don't remember that at all!!

 

Me:  Well, you sms-ed me at 12:15, so it must have been just after your swim la.  Nasib you didn't drown!

 

Kriss:  Did I??!  What did I say??  I don't remember sending u a text, babe!!

 

Me:  U give my day a great start cos I'm laughing so much now!

 

Kriss:  That's good!  I'm trying to find my room key now.

 

Me:  In the water, babe!  Your room key is in the water!!  When you went swimming at midnite!!

 

Kriss:  I'm so so retarded now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can hardly control my excitement!  I will be having a trip to Mataking in approximately 5 days - and I SO can't wait to get my ass outta KL and onto an island somewhere.  And if I can't go to Mabul, which is my most favorite-st island in the world, then Mataking is a pretty close second.

 

I've always felt refreshed and renewed after a dive trip, and I used to think that it was because of the change of scenery - you know - just being able to get out of the smog and rush of the city.  But I think now that it's more than that. 

 

I think that diving is an immensely spiritual experience.  To be so close to nature, and to see the vastness of the ocean, and the amazing variety of marine life - to be able to look up at night and gaze at the bright bright stars, which you don't get in the city - to observe the uniqueness of the underwater ecosystem ... oh man, it just can't be described.  Not to mention that there's always the possibility of discovering something new ... not just a new species, but to observe new behaviors, maybe eggs hatching, or mating dances ... the anticipation of discovery is always there, and it's awesomely, delightfully exciting.

 

I wish more people could experience moments like these!

 

 

The last two weeks have been a bit strange for me.  You know how it is when something happens, then a lot of the same thing happens in a stretch?  Like what's reported in the papers ... you get one bus crash with fatalities ... and then for the next couple of weeks, every front page headline is another bus crash with fatalities?  Something like that.

 

Anyways, because of that one incident where someone from my past turned up unexpectedly, with some odd results, I got all sentimental.  Which a friend reminded me recently is VERY out of sync with my Bitch Diva persona - but hey, I am nothing if not complex!  In any case, I started contacting all my old friends and trying to get in touch with them again.  And I was messaging my current friends with a kind of fervour previously unknown.

 

It's always nice to get in touch with old friends, and to see what everyone is up to these days.  But here is where it gets strange.  We sit down over a cup of coffee and cake or whatever, and we start catching up - and almost 90% of the people I have talked to, are having relationship upsets in some form or another.

 

One of them, who is my age, has been married for something like 15 years - has three children between the ages of 7 and 12 - gorgeous kids - beautiful wife - and admitted that he hasn't been happy for the last 13 years, and neither has his wife - although by all appearances, they are the ideal family.  Don't get me wrong - they're not constantly fighting and at each other's throats.  They are civil with each other.  But I think it's a matter of growing apart, or perhaps not having much in common to begin with.  So I asked the most straight forward question of all - why are you still together?

 

Now the question of religion pops up.  Being a devout Christian, both of them have resigned themselves to the fact that divorce is not permitted by God.  Okay - now I have some trouble accepting that.  Although I was born into a Christian family and raised as one, and know the "rules" - ultimately I believe in a Divine Being that loves  us enough to want us to be happy. 

 

We had a deep theological discussion after that.  My argument was that it's worse to stay together and to give an illusion of contentment to the people you deal with on a daily basis - your kids, your family members, your church - ESPECIALLY your church.  Isn't it kind of hypocritical to pretend to be something you're not?  His stand was that it is a personal conviction based on his faith.  One cannot argue logic versus faith, so I didn't.  We ended up not agreeing, but respecting each other's opinions and decisions.  But I went away deeply saddened that he will never experience the kind of happiness and contentment and peace that we all deserve to experience.

 

Another friend of mine who has also been married for the longest time, although they don't have any kids, has recently met and started a torrid affair with a married man.  And now she wants to attain the unattainable, and of course is depressed by her situation. 

 

Yet another friend is separated by distance from her husband due to work commitments.  They meet up at airports as they jetset from one country to another.  They see each other about one week every month.  Again, not a situation where they are happy, but yet neither one is willing to compromise their careers.

 

This is just the tip of the iceberg.  Some of the stories are so personal and so sad that I feel it would be a sacrilege for me to put in down in my blog.  But this is what I've been hearing all week.  Stories of broken hearts, loneliness, insecurity, unmet expecatations, pain.

 

And last night, I knelt on my bedroom floor, touched my head to the ground, and thanked the good Lord that I am content, at peace, and - most of all - SINGLE.

 

Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you! 

Look what I got as a present!!

 

 

Incase you missed it ... here's a close-up shot ..

 

 

How divine is the combination of whiskey and fudge??!  You bite into one of those cubes, and you get the soft squish of the fudge ... and as you chew it, you get the slow release of the whiskey .. and the taste is tart and sharp - but countered with the sweet of the fudge - and it's just YUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ...

 

So I have been indulging ....

 

I shall leave you with one last visual feast - visual only because, obviously, I am not sharing my whiskey laced fudge with anyone!

 

 

Thank you, McGuire!

 

 

 

 

I was having a yummy brunch of pig innards - you know - stomach, intestines, tongue, liver - and suddenly had to smile because I recalled this passage from the book I am now reading, 'eat, pray, love' ...

 

 

The passage is as follows:

 

"You don't like it?" asked Luca, who loves the stuff.

"I bet Gandhi never ate lamb intestines in his life," I said.

"He could have."

"No, he couldn't have, Luca.  Gandhi was a vegetarian."

"But vegetarians can  eat this," Luca insisted.  "Because intestines aren't even meat, Liz.  They're just shit."

 

 

The book is littered with sudden snippets of delight like this.  Totally random, but so funny ...

 

 

So my mom is in Hong Kong with my aunt, visiting my granduncle, who has been feeling under the weather lately - mostly due to old age, and the aches and pains that come with ageing.  In any case, that means that I have had to be here 100% for Mel and my dad - since Tuesday, and will have to be available till tomorrow.  It has given me a fresh appreciation for how divinely sacrificial my mother is.

 

To make matters worse, Mel is down and out with the flu, right in the middle of her trial exams, poor kiddo.  Which means that I have kept her back from school.  Which means that I have had to - gasp - play Florence Nightingale.  Which happens to be a role my mom plays extremely well.  Put aside the fact that she studied nursing and worked as a nurse for years before my sister and I came into the picture - she is still amazingly nurturing. 

 

When my sister and I were young(er), getting the flu was to be celebrated!  My mom would make soup and stew and porridge - it was all nutritional and yummy - and she'd bring up pretty bed trays with water and Milo and serve us our medication - she'd read to us and play board games with us when we were up to it.  And she does the same with Mel too, now - and Mel lamented to me yesterday that she wished she only fell sick when Por Por was around - as obviously, the soup I make comes from tin cans - and my porridge is lumpy and bland - and let's not even talk about stew!  I don't even know where to BEGIN making stew!  When I serve Mel her medication, it doesn't come on pretty trays - I pass her the tablets with a "nahhhhh, take your medicine" ... Mom puts a cold cloth on our forehead when we have fevers - I make Mel lie down and take a Panadol.

 

And even when we're NOT ill - mom wakes up every morning at 5am and makes breakfast for the whole family - bacon and eggs, noodles, baked beans on toast - and she makes Mel her juice, and dad his Milo and me my coffee - and yesterday morning, I stumbled out of bed at 6am when my alarm rang - meandered to the kitchen - took out the bread and butter, and plonked it on the dining table.  Mel was horrified.  I think dad was too, but he wasn't as verbal about it.

 

My mom should be given a sainthood.

 

It's no wonder then that Mel is pining for my mom.  Truth be told ... so am I!!

I have three books on my bedside table at present - all three very different books - and I read one of them every night, depending on the type of day I've had.  I choose my books based on them fulfilling either one, or all, of the following criteria. 

 

It has got to be funny.  Not stupid funny, but witty funny.  Or sarcastic funny.  One of the books I have now is called "The Naughty Girl's Guide to Life" - and it is a spoof on the more popular how-to books, such as the boring "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" (*BIG yawn*) - and the classic "He's Just Not That Into You" - people who have to read relationship books obviously aren't ready to be in one.  But "TNGGTL" is hilarious!  So I read that when I'm in the mood for something light.

 

Another criteria is that I have got to be able to relate to it.  I am also reading "Eat Pray Love" by Liz Gilbert - I was captivated from the start because her writing style is light and humorous, but mainly because her first capture describes her divorce, followed by an intense, passionate but ultimately destructive love affair she had immediately after.  And I can so relate.  This is a GREAT book on her journey of self discovery and personal growth. 

 

And the last criteria is that the end of every chapter has to leave me wanting more, or wondering what happens next.  Something ala the Harry Potter series.  So the third book sitting there is one I am re-reading "A Fortune Teller Told Me" - which is an instrospective look into the cultures of Asia, and how modernization is destroying the very essence of what sets us apart from the western world.

 

Mel is currently reading two books - "True Singapore Ghost Stories" - number 3582 or whatever - and her other book is Jacqueline Wilson's (an amazingly talented children's writer, I might add) autobiography called "Jacky Daydream".

 

I spend a fortune on books every month because Mel and I are both voracious readers, and we read so fast!  So if you ever feel inclined to contribute to our book fund, please let me know!!

 

 

 

I received something today that turned the clock back 20 years for me - as a student in Australia, I had some of the best years of my life - I experienced so much and learnt so much - met so many wonderful people - and had SO much fun ... and today, the memories just came rushing back to me - our jaunts into the hills of Adelaide, the sitting around the cafe having smoothies, walks on the beach, youth group games on weekend nights, hanging out in the parks, being part of the drama team ... oh wow, the list is endless!  I made some really really good friends, and it was a great time for me - being away from home for the first time, and finding myself - and now that I'm thinking back, I'm all warm and fuzzy - and it feels good to remember!

"Sorry I overslept" is NOT an acceptable nor valid excuse for being two hours late for an appointment!!  What, I have nothing better to do than to sit here and wait for you at freaking 8 in the morning, and you show up at 10:30?? 

 

Some people are so damn rude.

 

Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Yesterday was dad's birthday, so I took him and the rest of the family, including dad's oldest sister, to dinner at Sri Ayutthaya at Medan Damansara.  The ambience was lovely ... really enjoyed all the little touches, as the following pictures will show. 

 

Photo credits go to Mel, except - as if I need to point out the obvious - the one with her in it.

 

 

And then, greedy ravenous vultures that we were - we totally forgot about the camera when the food came - but I WILL say that it wasn't half bad, especially the chicken feet / papaya kerabu ...

 

I guess we'll have to go again, just to snap pictures of the food.

I will start by saying that How I Learned To Drive by The Oral Stage deals with an extremely controversial subject - that of paedophilia - and is meant for mature audiences only.  But having said that, it is also a dark comedy.  It is as funny as it is disturbing - which I know is an odd combination - but it worked!

 

It is surprising and extremely brave for Malaysian theatre - in a country where freedom of speech and individual expression is curtailed - and for that alone, I applaud The Oral Stage, the director, and the cast and crew.

 

It consists of a series of flashbacks, going back as far as the 1960's and 1970's, by Li'l Bit - now a 30-something year old.  Played by Amelia Chen, who was as convincing as an 11-year old as she was a 35-year old - she never portrayed herself as just a victim - but as a complex character, who tries to draw the line with her abuser, yet who relishes his attention while knowing that it is wrong, and the guilt that follows. 

 

Her flashbacks happen in no particular order - it jumps forward and backward - sometimes she's 13, sometimes she's 18, sometimes she's 11 - which is exactly how it is when we dwell on our memories of the past.  That was powerful too.

 

Johann Lim as Li'l Bit's Uncle Peck put on an amazingly convincing performance.  Although he was extremely manipulative in the way he groomed Li'l Bit to accept his sexual exploitations, he was never just the villian.  By the end of the performance, I actually felt a little sorry for him, as he was himself very much a victim of his choices and expectations.

 

The other 3 actors each portrayed a variety of roles, ranging from other members of the absolutely dysfuctional family, to teenage kids, to background narrations of Li'l Bit's memories.  No easy task, with such complex characters and situations - but poignantly done - and again, with some black humour.

 

The set was awesome!  It was minimalistic - a car seat here, a table there, road signs - but the cast made it easy for you to fill in the blanks, and it was great as there were no props to distract you from the sometimes humorous, sometimes sinister monologues.

 

This was not a play about victim versus aggressor, as it could well have become - but a look into the complexity of human nature.  Life is never as black and white as we sometimes claim it is.

 

I urge you to buy a ticket and go watch it!  It is playing at The Actor's Studio in Bangsar Shopping Center, and is still on till tomorrow!!

 

To the cast and crew of How I Learned To Drive ... BRAVO!

 

 

So my friend, Doreen, invited me to watch her performance as the Grandmother in The Oral Stage's version of Paula Vogel's 'How I Learned To Drive' this Friday night at The Actor's Studio in Bangsar.

 

 

It is a play about a girl who is coming of age, and has to deal with forgiveness and healing and that sort of thing - because she had an uncle who sexually abused her as a child. 

 

I am looking forward to going - thank you Doreen!