Friday Forecast

A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life.

- Muhammad Ali, USA

He's got to be one of the greatest, if not of them all. And he made Will Smith looks good playing him! So what do you say?

It's been a week of Oscars upscale, upsets, upending events, unsolicited attention (yeah, that's you Mr. Rourke) and a lot of real estate website search for me. I didn't catch the glitzy event live on television but I did finish a marathon Cantonese series and finally moved on to The Tudors now. Quite a continental change but all the same, after all, didn't Hong Kong inherit some of the colonial pom? The excitement, which I can't believe started when I finally got through to calling one particular university in Melbourne and got a speaking person (as opposed to that dreaded voice on the machine).

I'm still waiting for the crazy enrollment season to be over in March for my answer. What? Stay tuned for more as updates come in.

While I see myself moving on to the more statistical stage of analysis on property prices including rental and suburb comparisons. I've located the furniture rental shops as well as those who sell them. I've located cars and prices. I've located the State's biking and car licensing departments. I've located the council's reference on pet policy and protection (they actually have a 36-page code of ethics for pets) and I already simply think that next January is too long a 9 months to be!

Which is the reason that there is a huge possibility that I will move to the land of promises earlier. Of course there is Bunakan Island and then Europe to conquer prior to that move. I love how all these seem squeezed so tightly together yet feel so possible to achieve. I feel supercharged and alive. I feel positive. I feel blessed that I have such a steadfast and loving partner with me, to spur me on, to never let me settle for anything less than I am capable of.

I'll be hitting my first numerical in the 30s. At 31, I look back at my twenties, and boy, what a ride it had been!

So guys and gals. I wish you well. Until next Friday forecast and encapsulation, I ask of you to pack it all up, it's beer hour and head out for the weekend! Take to the trees and lakes!

Sans Siesta Superback!

Honey, how do you avoid the oil splatter bomb around the kitchen?

... I just use the pan cover ...

oh...

- Conversation between man and wife, Author's home

Back and refreshed from a Valentine's Day weekend getaway. Our jungle escape was immensely rewarding and we did what many decent couples will do in our situation - eat, laze, trek, and laugh a lot, especially when we were trying to swim underneath a gigantic (not to mention stupidly strong) waterfall. The place we lived in was peace defined. A glass / steel house that took after the natural environment and we indulged in having the green foliage as our wall paper for two days. I learned how to make a fire and sustain it. We shoo-ed mozzies away but I did a lot of screams that my dear hubby took in good stride. After all, he was a scout and a good one at that. But the most precious thing that we did was to connect at a different level, away from the city smog. And yeah, the chinese sausage fried rice in the sleepy town was damn good too...

And return to the city we did. It was a lot of sweating it off (the good food we cooked up in the fire) and also sorting out a lot of "what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life" thoughts. I think getting out into the jungle really put you in a beneficial position to rethink about whether you are on the right path, having the right goals, and most of all, whether you are doing it in the most simplistic manner possible.

We went to the wet market this morning. Marriage sure feels wonderful when your man is there because he wants to, not because he has to. He wants to be cause it's his self-conviction, not because it was external persuasion. And those tiber rosa and oriental lilies smell damn good in our room too. Those, are also from the market.

It's Valentine's Day today because I was walking out from the market, in my favourite blue summer dress, and my hubby next to me, our week's worth of chook, fish, veggies, and my bouquet in hand.

Elm Street Post-it

Not exactly. But Vivien is finally confronting her blogging demons and decides to meet them up front, instead of being stalked incognito from behind. She will be out of town, in the woods she shall go, with her shining knight in bermuda shorts, braving the waterfalls and villages. Living in a glass shed, and I bid you all, a brilliant and love-filled Valentine's Day weekend.

I will be back for the week ahead. Love lots.

Inferno Incense

I can remember when the air was clean and the sex was dirty.

- George F. Burns, USA

News of the fire spreading in Australia has been going for too long and this year it has been no exception. It is a heart-wrenching read between the evil cocktail of demented arsonists and the relentless survivors to rebuild their lives. Already many who didn't deserve yet died, and many precious relics of nature that took thousands of years to evolve and grow, all disappeared with the heat, the ash, the blaze.

These are some of the many photographs that were published on the web, and I wanted to highlight the triggers that spark (no pun) off in you as I hope they will as you read on. I can only hope that these, poignant and haunting images do not only serve a mere purpose of allowing us, from a safe distance, a glimpse into a desperate fight to push back the ignorance of the selfish. If you see it, then report it. Vow to yourself that you will do at least one act a day to preserve your environment. If doing it for the future generation doesn't appeal to you, then do it for the air that you breathe right now. I am not asking you to donate or to plant a tree. You can, but I hope these photographs that caused and stirred the pools of my soul to raise a wave of despair, hurt, pain, rage and I feel helpless that I can only do so much from the seat of my office to ask of you to just at least, consciously take care of our planet. I wish I was in the battle ground, I wish I was stroking the heads of the children who lost their homes, I wish I was consoling the loss that parents had to endure when they returned only to see their offsprings that already had left the bounds of this Devil's cauldron into the embrace of God above. I feel useless. I feel angry.

And the last photograph almost took my life force away. Boundaries are broken, and humans with animals, the battered but not broken Mother Nature, all captured in this image to remind us that this is our inheritance. The good, the bad, the evil, they are all our making and only ours to make a difference. Continue we must, and continue we will.

The Sun In My Day / Five Degrees Of Gratefulness

Forget injuries, never forget kindness.

- Confucius, China

Another torrid day and I was hard at work on my examination piece for my Erhu. Surprisingly, the heat didn't dampen (no pun) my enthusiasm for the scales workout, in fact, I actually enjoyed it. First thing to be thankful for!

The puppies behaved so well, no paper shredding, so decided to go out for a walk together. We behaved well, they got a great workout, I got a fantastic warm up. They practically siesta it later while I went for my bike. The legs were still aching from yesterday but boy, I felt good. Stretches were tougher today (don't know the reason) but I did them anyway. I had always thought my back was weak but today, no pain. Just an overall feeling of strength. Second thing to be thankful for!

And got a surprise call from Claire, my new friend with a lovely boy, Hugo, and another one coming in July. We met on one of those walks. I was invited over to an amazingly cozy home, tasteful yet unpretentious. It was fun just exchanging tips (more like me soaking them in from her!) of making the transition from a corporate rat travelling around the region for deadlines to a yummy mummy, relishing in the joys of raising a child. We spent the arvo just enjoying our time together and also singing to Hugo's DVD of French traditional children's learning songs and animation. I thought Hugo's baked cod and rice dinner was quite delicious! Third thing to be thankful for!

And here I am, listening to Claire's CD of Ma Yo-Yo's recordings of the cello suites by Bach. Simply voodoo hoodoo stuff. Fourth thing to be thankful for!

I feel good. Even though tonight I am alone. I love how I am working my body out. Tomorrow will be another commitment on resistance and interval training. Fifth thing to be thankful for!

The Mack Is Back!

Running is one of the best solutions to a clear mind.

- Sasha Azevedo, USA

And who said you can't get high legally?

Interesting observation as I spent the morning flipping through the pages of my newspapers. The 15-day marathon of eating / gambling / interrupted sleeps / drinking / loud talking / smiling at irritating relatives during what we all called "Chinese New Year" had concluded last night with a boom-bam-bung of fireworks and the smell of overnight BBQ grease reminded me, yes, Chap Goh Meh was last night.

Before the infinitesimal mouse gave way to strapped fortified ox, this town had always been notorious for slimming centres that masquerade as your best friend in need when you had to do the deed of reducing your mirror image to zero - because your prospective crush will be at the open house, because you simply hate your cousin and need to settle the score this year (hence, that qipao), because you just want to woo and make mouths gawk? I always have found it quite unrealistic when I hear women, with single hand on the forehead in "woe betide me" style, aspiring to "slim down" to perk up a lame, flat spirit or to just... attend a wedding function.

How interesting. And how silly.

So I was not amused when I found what used to be sections of the newspapers' advertorials prior to the new year's celebration touting "REVEAL-YOUR-BEST-SELF-THIS-YEAR!" and happy, smiling (completely Photoshop-ed) specimens of gullible women with their "before" and "after" photographs, claiming that this centre or that one had changed their lives forever (and your bank account that leaner I suppose?). It all sounded like one scary advertorial of laboratory CSI gone wrong - something that sounded like suction? Did I hear electromagnetic waves? Fat melting lotion? Cold wraps. Hot wraps. And no, we are not talking about lunch time sandwiches here.

Did I miss something?

And of course, any festivity can't be one without the galore of food, drinks, throw in some bad lines and we are heading towards some serious booze. Empty calories (oh, woe betide me indeed! Pass that drink Georgie!), feeling sick in the morning after and needing to perk up - they did say Bloody Mary cures, did they really say that? You looked at yourself and thought that you appeared like shit. And then it hit you, that you would have to go back to the world, you need to radiate, no, no... more like diffuse the luminosity of taking a break. Panic. Shock. Disbelief.

Upon moving beyond gasping recovery like a fish out of water, you thought of one thing. What can money buy? Hence, your trip down to that slimming centre with hope and faith clutched tightly in your bosoms, that you will emerge victorious and honed to the right tone.

Personally I really poo-poo on these slimming centres. They reek of hypocritical assurance that capitalises on the desperation of the lazy. Yes, I said it. You work out if you want to change your mindset. Come on, give yourself a good smack - either you can forever call yourself a lazy bastard, a fat ass, or you commit to respecting yourself and give in a good fight.

Sweat and good pain always pay back. You do reveal a stronger side of you, a more determined side of you, and above all, you damn well deserve to gloat because you didn't cheat. Consistency. Commitment. Belief. All of them real, and you know that you are beating out all your demons. Your body ripples with strength and sexiness. You feel hot. You feel damn hot! And everyone knows it. They can't pay for it, they can only envy you - they know, you got something special.

This is what ran through my mind when I sat down to complete my workout this arvo. I was in a deep stretch, with my little white pillow of love, Chewy greedily licking up my glowing arms, while Tommy keeping my angles in check on the yoga mat, I loved the fact that I have accomplished 10km of interval training. My thigh muscles burn but recover, my state of mind clears up. I feel that I am responsible and that I have been responsible.

The best thing out of this? I got the reserve to take the dogs out for our arvo walk around the hill. We came back all exhausted and sweaty. It was a quiet day, just the three of us. But we felt that we own the whole of this world.

Medical Time-off

Vivien regrets that she is being attacked by the swine of a migraine on this terribly searing teppanyaki of an arvo. So she is recuperating underneath a cool shade and will be back for more (of the blog, that's).

- The Author, Home

Musicals

Kuhinakan diriku sendiri untuk merengkuh cinta sejati

Cintamu bagai cahaya mentari yang membakar wajahku

Meski sekilas kurasakan, namun akan menjadi bejal hingga zaman ahkhir.

- Gusti Puteri Raden Adjeng Retno Dumilah, PGL The Musical Season III

How was I to keep away from this musical? The great news is that I don't have to. And the entire experience was surrealistically enhanced with the presence of my beloved. Nothing short would suffice to enjoy one of the greatest love epic ever to grace the stage. As this would probably be the last season, I felt truly lucky to be able to soak it all in, up front, and uninterrupted by the entire magic, the score, the solid cast and back-vocals, the classic dialogue and oh, the stage set-up. Stupendous.

It was promised to be bigger, better, and more captivating than the last three seasons (I, II and Singapore). I have to agree that after seeing it before, and being impressed previously that this season did not fail to impress beyond satisfaction. I would have loved to ask you to not to miss it, but all tickets were sold out before the show began. But check out the movie, although you girls would have to settle for a rather older version of that eye candy (thankfully he could sing, which was the saving grace!) in Stephen Rahman Hughes of the West Side Story fame... in M. Nasir. Can sing, but not as gula-lah!

Otherwise, it was a fantastic opportunity to see Adlin A. Ramlie, AC Mizal, the very adorable Raja Ahmad actors in action. All good things should come to an end, and in this case, I am glad that it is finally having its last curtain call, but in the grandest of what musicals deserve.

So we moved on to the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra's show of the night: Symanowski Symphony No. 4 Sinfonia Concertante (Op. 60), conducted by Kevin Field. Now, I love all the pom of this event. It does have its quirkiness such as incessant clapping brings back the "faked" oh-you-shouldn't-have in the recipient when they are being presented with appreciation from the listening audience and ahem, the bouquet I heard you mentioned?

But we burst into the scene with a strong opening of Franz Joseph Haydn's Symphony No. 93 in D. It was audio silk, I was teased, and the two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc that I had earlier with my lamb and salad blended with the funny warm feeling that I got in my head. I swore that when I closed my eyes, I appreciated the melodies more but I was afraid that my beloved thought that I had gone to sleep (which I didn't!). Anyway, after 22 minutes, we moved on to Karol Szymanowski's Symphony No. 4 which was accompanied by a rather bellied up, famous pianist called Peter Jablonski. Now, he comes with a striking resume but I thought the conductor, Kevin did an excellent job in bringing up a cohesion in the notes and boy, the timing. A twitter here, a look there, and there you have it. The perfect conclusion before the intermission.

Of course we have to rub shoulders with the black tails, pay RM6 for a glass of Diet Coke (which wasn't even the whole can!) and bathroom trips. The finale for the night was Witold Lutoslawski's Symphony No. 3. It was a strange, almost Bjork-like classical journey back into the future. In between the vociferous slamming of the cello bows on their strings and the oboe bellows, I was taken to awe-inspiring level with just how some of the most mysterious compositions that I have ever heard.

Music is indeed, something we all need. I do. And I encourage you, go see it. At least the MPO is still playing!

Getting Into Her Hair

Long on hair, short on brains.

- French proverb

It's all over the news. Not the coup d'etat of the Perak government and the dirty tussle between the stinky. The coup de grace is more of Beyounce pissing off yet another big name celebrity. After all those name dropping on Her Highness, the "original bad girl of music", Etta James, it seems that the legendary Mrs. Jay-Z has successfully got herself entangled in a hairy mess (no pun).

I don't know the details, every tabloid worth its salt seems to just hinted that Etta James going ape-shit on the microphone during her recent leg at Seattle. And what about berating about Obama? Let's keep the good man out of this cat fight, shall we?

It's difficult living in the eyes of the world, isn't it? One minute you play a legend in film, sing to her, tell her on live television that you "love her", and the next you get slammed by her. You get your dad out to save your skin (I think he did a great job regarding the "Queen" incident with Beyounce and Aretha Franklin but I still think that Tina Turner has the hottest legs in show business!) and a historical president got in the line of fire.

Dear, oh dear. All those hair, those platinum highlights. Those blow drying. Those bleach. Those perm. So, so tiring...

That's why I am so loving my bob cut. Have a great day everyone!

Puppies And Babies

Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about puppies.

- Gene Hill, dog owners everywhere

And of course they are all worth the extra work that you will be strapped with for as long as they live. You will find yourself being owned more than you will ever "own" them. Those puppy eye lashes can flutter only so little to tell many a puppy lie (like no, I didn't pee in that corner, only the other one!) and the smell of puppies just remind you to slow down, it's not that big a deal, and there is a lovelier side to life.

Just like babies too. I see pregnant ladies everywhere today. They carry with them life so proudly. Oh for Pete's sake, even the spa menu that I looked at highlighted a treatment for mum-to-be. You know they will bring forth after 9 months, a newborn, smelling like a newborn, wail like a newborn, and you will forever fall in love over and over again.

If only puppies and babies could remain that size forever. My heart says a special thank you for these two blessings that are put on Earth.

Girls (And Baldies) Just Want To Have Fun!

If it's not fun, you're not doing it right.

- Bob Basso, USA

I was just looking back again on the past two years. They had been the most chaotic, noteworthy, singularly most outstanding 24 months of my life. I laughed, cried, got excited and panicked, found peace, learned new things, and found out that sometimes the old can be revived like long-lost friends yet some are meant way past their expiry dates (like friendships that get you exhausted).

Thousands of kg of laundry had been done (and survived). We tried to eat lots more fish and greens, but we also ended up eating more meat however you spin it! Drank my fair share of wine, took up a quota for beer limitation and this cardinal rule will only be broken when top quality beer turns up (like when we end up in Belgium later this year!).

Had boat loads of fun in the battle of lanes when both sides of our folks turned up for a bowling "tournament". I even got a double! Watched less movies in the cinemas (which can only mean one thing...), went skinny dipping, finally ending my long standing desert search to do scuba diving, got lots of hugs and smiles. Got lots of love.

I hope that I have made the last 24 months mean something special for others too. I had travelled so much, seen more than I could think of in that time frame, packed and unpacked (and still going!) many a luggage, listened to many LPs (old ones too, like Lisa Stansfield right now - All around the world... let's get up and groove!), abstained from sins (you know what they are), whipped up favourite meals, and that I hope too that my dogs know that I love them endlessly.

Boy, was it one damn good ride.

The Gift

Everyone is gifted - but some people never open their package.

- Unknown

Do you know how it feels when you are being given, like really with all the thought in the world? It can be an unexpected hug (check), your favourite flower because he thought of you while he was doing the morning shift of the grocery shopping at the local pasar (check and check!), that those chocolate brown eyes always look at you that way that you loved so much (check, check, check...).

I am lucky, actually touched by heaven to have someone who gives like a dream. You know, things that money can't buy? It's not something you make someone do for you.

I hope you feel that I am in my little humble way, giving you something worthwhile of sharing. Let us remember how it is like to be given, and that we are inspired to give.

After all, I believe, we are capable of this talent. Just open yourself.

The Storm

Against the stone breakwater

Only an ominous lapping

While the wind whines overhead

Coming down from the mountain

Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces

A thin whine of wires, a rattling and flapping of leaves

And the small street-lamp swinging and slamming against the lamp pole

Where have the people gone?

There is one light on the mountain

Along the sea-wall, a steady sloshing of the swell

The waves not yet high, but even

Coming closer and closer upon each other

A fine fume of rain driving in from the sea

Riddling the sand, like a wide spray of buckshot

The wind from the sea and the wind from the mountain contending

Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upward into the darkness

A time to go home!

And a child's dirty shift billows upward out of an alley

A cat runs from the wind as we do

Between the whitening trees, up Santa Lucia

Where the heavy door unlocks

And our breath comes more easy

Then a crack of thunder, and the black rain runs over us, over

The flat-roofed houses, coming down in gusts, beating

The walls, the slatted windows, driving

The last watcher indoors, moving the cardplayers closer

To their cards, their anisette

We creep to our bed, and its straw mattress

We wait, we listen

The storm lulls off, then redoubles

Bending the trees half-way down to the ground

Shaking loose the last wizened oranges in the orchard

Flattening the limber carnations

A spider eases himself down from a swaying light-bulb

Running over the coverlet, down under the iron bedstead

Water roars into the cistem

We lie closer on the gritty pillow

Breathing heavily, hoping

For the great last leap of the wave over the breakwater

The flat boom on the beach of the towering sea-swell

The sudden shudder as the jutting sea-cliff collapses

And the hurricane drives the dead straw into the living pine-tree.

- Theodore Roethke, USA

An Ordinary Perfect Day

If you are not willing to risk the unusual, then you have to settle for the ordinary.

- Jim Rohn, USA

It's another one of those days which I don't want to have to say goodbye to. It was quiet, just spending it with my beloved and the dogs, spring cleaning the bathroom(s) and the mutts, making my "sure win" steamed herbal chicken with Chinese wine, and stir-fried Hong Kong kai lan. Eating rice. Rainy evening. Balmy night. More rain again.

We were just comparing about the nuances of "humid" and "balmy".

Sometimes, ordinary is just perfect.

The Gathering

If I can send the flower of the German nation into the hell of war without the smallest pity for the shedding of previous German blood, then surely I have the right to remove millions of an inferior race that breeds like vermin.

- Adolf Hitler, Germany

What perpetuated such extremity? Why am I still reading the misunderstood issue of a governmental social grant of the building of a factory (French business) with the support of Israelis? Why is the bigger part of our nation confused (still) with the suffering of the Palestinian war with not the suffering of humanity, but religion?

Today's gathering had been an interesting one for a long time. There we were, sitting amongst friends and colleagues, yet questions of gender-biased hand shakes, the cheek-kiss between women (was it two times or three?), and the politically correct topics to ask (and avoid), who's an introvert profile and vice versa. How many languages can you balance to ensure you get the racial mix at the right equilibrium? How about the halal-ness that hung in the air without your Chinese mind thinking "where is the pork stew?" while another can of beer bit the dust. Many appeared to be c'est la vie about it but who knew what might be stewing inside their hearts and minds? Certainly not stewed pork (but oh gosh, the good old days of how grandma's kitchen smelled so good of them...)

Had it always been this way? I remembered a time when all I cared about was how many of my friends liked the jelly that my mum made... of course that was my first ever hosted birthday party (my perfect excuse to invite the boy I had a crush on without letting the cat out of the bag - he ended playing only with the yellow bike that my dad bought me) but as much as I had fun this arvo, I couldn't help noticing what it would be like for our children in generations to come. Because we are bred to sit properly together and have our meal at the table? Blind to race, religion, gender and income tax bracket?

Why make a big deal when pork is not served, yet the utensils are not "certified"? How about when beef is served instead? Are we not "offending" others that abide to the same thing that drove yours - faith? But then again, was it self-centeredness that drove you to become ignorant of that issue?

And the primary school crush I had? I decided a girl had got to move on!