My life revolves around...

1Malaysia 4U2C - H1N1 oso will not KO you so GR8..

2010-04-01T22:05:00.021+08:00

Welcome to scenes of Malaysian life!

WARNING: Contains graphical images of a potentially disturbing nature...

Specially brought to you by a prominent hypermarket in Klang Valley -- Toddler bedtime stories about decapitated jumping ghosts (hantu pocong), flying vampiresses (pontianak), mischievous green goblins (toyol) and other premier members of the local ghoulish community.

Next, a scene that greeted visitors to the toilet of a prominent primary school in PJ:
All together now -- "EEEEEEEEEEE YERRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!"

Finally -- fence signage inspires this loathsome piece of poetry:

Something strange, in the neighbourhood...
Feelin' weird, got the gallstone blues...
Who you gonna call? Ghost doctors!!

Pale and grey, after too much food...
Might as well, be microbe soup...
Who you gonna call? Ghost doctors!!

< Insert Ghostbusters music here >

Is that a Jumbuck on the Xebec?

2009-08-25T00:37:00.007+08:00

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome rath outgrabe.

If you read Alice in Wonderland, you would recognise these lines from the nimble and riveting Jabberwocky tale. I loved it, the nonsensical words roll so well off the tongue, and if you chant it in your head, you can summon superhuman strength.. no kidding; I used it a few times on particularly difficult track workouts (back when I did those); the last curve of the last 300m where vision is blurred and the temptation to stop and puke is real... recite the bits that start with Beware --- BEWARE the Jabberwock my son! The jaws the bite, the claws that catch.. BEWARE the jubjub bird and shun.. the frumious bandersnatch.. !! ... the Jabberwocky sure helped me through many a mimsy borogove...

Fast forward to 2009; I wander through a toy store with no aim, except to feed my curiosity at the volume and variety of toys for kids. I spot something that takes me back through the Looking Glass. It is one of those supposedly educational props that associate English words with the alphabets that they begin with; you know.... A for Apple, B for Boy... I am sure you who have wandered through a local toystore, have seen one or more variations of this prop:

Er.. I am not a boating expert, but I *think* that is a hovercraft...

.. and that Xebec ... is that the word for 'badly drawn spanish galleon with cheesy smile in yellow sail' ... ?

A 'Jumbuck' is a scary clown mutating into a sheep... or might it be the other way around..

It used to be that mass market sub-standard products were locally-made. However that has now gone global. This toy is made in China. That global production giant can now ciplak everything from toddler milk powder to iPhones.... and walahh, it can ciplak English words too. Lewis Carroll, you may have met your match...

Give us today, our Daily Bread...

2009-07-17T23:11:00.004+08:00

I am in a bread-making phase of my life; it is just another addition to my list of stress-busting activities, which currently looks like this:

Run.
Doodle with inky pens.
Make jelly.
Eat jelly.
Run.
Smell Rohan's hair.
Kiss Charu's cheek.
Spar with Tony.
Run.
Drink coconut cream with brown sugar.
Run.

Now, after the last Run, I can put - Bake Bread. It is so simple, and quite satisfying a quest -- just scoop, mix, pour, stir a little, then mash your fingers into the dough and work it. The action you need to apply on the mixture automatically transitions from squish...sshhh...to...squelch...cchhh...to...squeeze...zzz...to...knead...and knead... and knead (ok maybe I sometimes overdo it) till fatigue (or a niggling back ache) nudges you out of your trance, at which point you should have a ball of elastic and maybe somewhat sticky dough. Leave it to rise while you wash up, and you will notice that the skin on your hands are quite smooth and supple. You will be tempted to start your own yeast-based beauty products. By the time you finish daydreaming about your multi-million dollar empire (or if you are a little less ambitious in business but more so in other ways, then you may have actually smeared some of the stuff on your forehead...), you can check on the elastic ball and find that it has doubled in size. Imagine that its the face of someone you despise, and punch it down once more. Finally, depending on what you or your intended consumers may want, shape them into whatever you like, and bake; I use a 180 deg. C convection oven but best to follow a proper bread recipe, measurements and all. I must try that one day... follow a proper bread recipe, that is...

Recently, I discovered that oatmeal bread is ONE way to get Tony to consume oats. Hooray for bread! So here are photos of my 'success':

Success at Right, and Bread at left :-D

Charu practising to be brand rep for when mum's bread gets deployed commercially...

When I have unpaid labour, I get to make these (can you spot a little finger?)

Brand rep again...

Say if I REALLY opened a bread shop, what would I call my stuff? How about -- Well-Bred :-)))

Berjaya ke Tioman!

2009-05-15T23:08:00.009+08:00

Pulau Tioman is an island close to my heart. I first holidayed there when I was 4 years old; before younger siblings existed for me. I do not remember much more than the nausea during the boat ride from Mersing (no Berjaya Air back in the 1970s YES I'mthatold). Years later, I would travel back with then-fiance Tony, to collect clearer, more pleasant memories.

The thing also is... sandy beaches really are THE thing for my whole family; we have an affinity for them, dare I say the same way ants take to sugar; I daresay the way scandals take to Malaysian politics. Better get back to the beach. It is such a calming place; soft powdery sand stretched out for miles along a wavy shoreline, asking to be walked along and played upon. The breeze nudges the waves, and they oblige, alternately tapping and thrashing the shoreline, then receding. Only to be nudged again... repeatedly. Slowly. Lazily. Eventually, realization sets in that the breeze is also teasing *us*, blowing sand and salty air in our face, tickling our ears with rustling coconut leaves.... sighhh. In a trance, we then unleash our cute kids, slippery with sunblock and brimming with energy, and they scurry out and become part of the beach scenery. Perfect.

That memory is from our last holiday on April 28th, where we spent 3 days at Berjaya Tioman. The journey began with a small glitch; the flight was delayed by an hour. We coped by letting the kids roam around Subang airport until they began trip up other travellers as they ran underfoot, and roll themselves about on the carpeting outside the public toilets. I think the additional zillion microorganisms they picked up during the delay actually required an additional seat...

Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Finally we boarded, and most of us managed to snatch some sleep on the plane during the one-hour flight...

...except Charu, can't you tell from that face -- "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

When we finally reached, we boarded the shuttle van to the hotel (a mere 2km away but its a steep winding road). Along the way, I saw sights that triggered memories of my last visit, so many years ago. No change to people's living conditions:

Some parts however were cleaned up and modernized; the island has just been declared duty-free so a few metres from the entrance to Berjaya Tioman there is now a dusty new concrete building, built to house the Customs Department and huge in comparison to surrounding ramshackle eateries and even the nearby school.

FINALLY, we reached!! Checked in, chucked bags, and though I did not do real shutterbugging, when I DID remember to bring my trusty Moto U9, I got some (slightly fuzzy but) REAL holiday shots:

Post, poster, posterior...

2009-04-10T13:22:00.007+08:00

Its 11.44pm, late Tuesday night. I have missed wishing Joanne Peh on her birthday yesterday, but I did manage to transmit her my be-earlied wishes via GTalk the day before, predicting so correctly that I would forget to do so on the actual day.

So now I login to my blog, because I haven't updated it for ages, and that bugs me. Not really because anyone actually reads all this, but because like old parents, I feel that this place deserves somewhat regular visits and attention... with 'somewhat' falling loosely between a day and six months.

But then, I have many things to say, I just don't know where to start, and I don't want to reveal things that I don't mean to in case they start some trouble... That is why I usually end up not saying anything at all, much like how my phone conversations with my mum go nowadays.

Oh well. No worries, its now 12.46pm, and since 11.44pm, two funny things have happened, maybe those are enough to wrap up this post. Let's see:

1) I walked past the bathroom, and saw Charu's pyjama pants on the floor. This usually means that she had a late-night big business call. But the bathroom light was off, so I walked into the bedroom to find a smooth-bottomed Charu fast asleep on her tummy, apparently forgotten to put the pants back on after using the bathroom. Very funny sight, but I did NOT take any photo, knowing that that would ruin my relationship with her when she's a teenager in the near future.

2) Amumma walked out of the room, looked at me, and muttered, "Ooh. I thought it was morning!" and walked back in...

What is with people tonight? I had better wrap up, before some other funny thing happens. Anyway, boy am I super dee duper sleepy...........

The Two Year Old Man

2009-03-02T14:40:00.008+08:00

On the 2nd of February, Rohan turned two years old, but the amount of laughter and cuteness he has drizzled on us is worth about two thousand years of happiness, with more added on every single day. I often wish I had the superability of a character in Heroes who is able to freeze time; I could then STOP it whenever Rohan flashes that devastatingly grum chipped-tooth grin, with the crinkly eyes and squishy nose:

OK not bad, a camera-phone can do a half-decent job of time-freezing, albeit in two dimensions, sans fragrance and texture.

Another ability worth having, is the preservation of all his thoroughly disarming sayings, like:

"Are you cute?"
"Noooo, I'm YOHAN DAVID JOSEPHH!!!!"

(rocking back and forth in his seat) "I'm on my yocking chair!"

(seeing me in running gear) "Are you going to get gym germs??"

"How old are you today?"
"I'm a two year old Man!!"

OK, so preservation in a blog counts too, I suppose.

Finally, the highlight of the weekend birthday celebration was a trip to Templer Park. Thankfully, its still clean and enjoyable, unlike the disappointment of our last visit to the Tanjung Rambutan waterfalls. Looks like Tony's people in the Rawang district have been better at conserving their surrounding natural beauty than my Ipoh people. So of course the former won our vote as the first stream that we would take our innocent kids to. I don't want them to think that waterfalls are the colour of milk tea, and that bulldozers are part of the landscape, which was the case upstream of the Tanjung Rambutan waterfalls, to my disgust. That was many many years ago, I don't know what it is now, but I don't feel like making an effort to find out unless I hear that they're going to build some hilltop apartments that will tumble down and kill its occupants. OK better stop before this post gets more activisty..

Parting thought for the day -- Slumdog Millionaire is such a watchable movie because it leveraged the amazing candidness of children to tell a large chunk of the story. Look at these and tell me that you do not understand... ?!

Photographer is rewarded with a serene smile by the wading water waif...

... and her little frowny brother

Water waifs can turn impish in a few milliseconds..!

Water waifs are closely guarded by dashing dark-haired demons...

.. that have strange heads growing out of their backs! :-D

Will you, won't you come and join the Picnic

2009-02-20T17:10:00.007+08:00

I introduced the concept of a picnic to Charu and Rohan after they watched Minnie Mouse organize one on Playhouse Disney. Now every weekend, at least one meal request comes with some cute laungan of "Mammeeeee, can we have a picnic??" :-) So I oblige, because its fun for me too. I cook their meals as usual, but add on a little extra fun picnic food item. One or more of the following would qualify : chicken nuggets, cocktail frankfurters, jelly, cubes of their favourite fruit (in Charu & Rohan's case, it would be apples, mango and/or oranges), homemade potato wedges, etc.

While Charu poses for the camera, Rohan covets the nugget in her hand...

Chicken nuggets served with quinoa-flecked rice in chicken soup and mixed vegetables, but it might as well be The Most Fantastically Tasty Food Experience To Be Had In The Open Air..

While Charu savours lunch, Rohan smears it in his hair...

Charu: Can we do this everyday?
Rohan: That's a tasty-looking leaf...

I LOVE how happy they look (OK Rohan didn't oblige on camera, but he sure did have fun :-D), and how the food seems to take on more vibrant hues and texture when consumed out in the open sunlight. Its just downstairs by the poolside, but who cares??

The Satyam, the whole Satyam and nothing but the Satyam

2009-02-17T15:39:00.000+08:00

Hi back, me blog. This site has been silent for over a month. That is because 2009 handed me its first big-time bogey on 7th Jan. Or rather, to my colleagues and me. In the form of a monumental, Jupiter-sized scandal, courtesy of the company were just sold to at the tip of the year-end.

But by now, February 17th, its all out in the open, you must know what I'm talking about - the Satyam scandal, India's Enron, big-time fraudery that rocked the beginning of this year.

Oh well. More on that later I guess. But for now, I want to move on. I have much more exciting updates about my life....

Honey, I Shrunk the Future

2009-01-07T00:34:00.008+08:00

I feel sad today. We have entered the new year of 2009, but our human brains seem left behind somewhere in the Backwaterthal (also known as Bawahtempurungthal) era, the time where soft cells within the cranial abyss of the homo bodohcus behaved like millions of individual microcellular organisms co-existing in a water droplet, banging against each other, creating heat and lots of animosity. But no substantial useful by-product. No myelin-sheathed neurons with synapses, just a lot of moronic relapses. No great thoughts and plans, just bland hot air with no fans.

I'm talking about us humans ripping out each others lives, fighting for "justice", blowing up people en masse in the name of "self-defense", fighting for strips of land the way greedy kids do over sour worm gummies. Charles Darwin might wonder if his Theory has become its own monster. Is it really the law of natural selection in place here; are we eliminating the weak and ensuring the proliferation of stronger, better gene pools amongst the homo bodohcus of the future?

At least think about this - if you have planned, ordered, approved of, delighted in or participated in or were ever happy to be part of the killing of another human being, do you think you really have done yourself, your offspring and your descendants a favour? How sure are you that that person is not someone who may have held the key to the survival of your future? What if you Kill Bill, but your ancestral lineage carried a horrible disease whose cure could have been found by Bill had he lived beyond the death you dealt him? What if you Slice Bryce, denying him the chance to be the most effective world leader in history? Effective in my context, that is to say able to stop wars from breaking out between countries, thus preventing the obliteration of your family. What if you Murder Myrtle, thus preventing the birth of the next Mother Theresa or Gandhi. Subsequently denying the world an icon of peace, humility and love. Millions will never know peace, humility and love the way it should be known. I suspect this has already happened, and that the current world leaders are all part of these millions of human beings flying around the world, talking rubbish, smiling a lot and spending billions on smart suits, speech-writers and weapons to kill human beings other than themselves.

Blame my crazed ranting on the front page of today's newspaper. The image of little children's bodies lined up side by side, dead from tank shells battering Gaza. Three little children. The eldest child had spindly legs and a cherubic face that made me wonder if his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. I will never know. Neither will you. They had perfectly-curled eyelashes, that no eyelash curler may ever bestow upon mine. The one on the far right had lovely rosebud lips, frozen in death. When I try to kiss the corner of Rohan's cute soft mouth where his chubby cheek starts, his hot-breathed "You gowawayeeee!!" smells sweet and milky. Rosebud Lips Child possibly would have reacted in the same way, and I think her breath would smell like milk too. But we will never know. The child in the middle was the smallest. Even in oversized blue pants, I can tell that his legs must be pudgy and chubby, cute and cuddly. But what is the use, they will never grow anymore.

Cute and all that, but think, think THINK again. Because we never do enough of it. Think about whether one of those three children held the key to our future. What if we have already destroyed the people who could have improved our future? We, the greedy, backwater people of today, who make money from every rocket launched, every bullet sold. We, who need to be in power, to control the world economy, to be in the limelight, to own it, along with the sunlight, and the land. The Land. We need to own whatever it takes to be happy. To live comfortably. But what does that mean? If you rule the Whole World, and own all its riches, will you be happy? What about half; share half with another crazy human. Okay you get a litttttle more than half, and other crazy guy gets a litttttle less than half. Now will you be happy? No? Still want more??

What do we want? Do we know? Do we care what others want? Do we care at all about others? Do we care about the world we live in? Really? How about the world that others live in? Its the same world, but you want the better part, leaving the worse parts to others, right?? You want the parts that have petroleum and diamonds; the rest of the sorry humans can take the desert.

Do we care about our future? Really? But... like I said earlier, we may already have destroyed it.... we've killed human beings... are we like, Mother Nature? Do we have the right to selectively remove other living creatures from this world? (bytheway, the rumour is that Mother Nature doesn't "select") You think we do? And you also think that it ensures a better life? For whom... for everyone? What about those who love the people that you killed, are their lives better too??

Do we want justice? Really? Do we want it for everyone, or just ourselves? Is justice served if we kill others? How about if we kill those who were not directly responsible for the injustice to us? Is justice served? To whom?? Are we still thinking here??

Do we think about how we can share this world with others? Others as in everyone, not just those whom we like. What about those we dislike? Are they unimportant and not worthy of our "sharing" because they aren't cool? Are these the values we teach our children? Our offspring. Who will go into a future made uncertain no thanks to the tweaking-of-the-future we have done for today. Great job there, destroying our future. Thanks a lot, ancestors. Thanks a lot, leaders. With brains from the past.

Heaven is a place on earth...

2008-12-18T00:15:00.017+08:00

It must seem obvious that "indulgent relaxing holiday" and "wailing flailing children" are two mutually exclusive entities. They sound so strange together in the same sentence, that your brain may be tingling right now. But if you have children who at some point in your recent life, introduced you to new dimensions of wailing and flailing, you must read on, for you are hence a qualified member of the common humanoididal speciogenus 'in-dire-need-of-indulgent-relaxing-holiday-but-unable-to-leave-wailing-flailing-children-behind'. More brain-tingling? Trust me and read on...

Club Med Phuket. Maybe Club Med anything, but Phuket to begin with, is a three-letter word that promises a hoard of fun for everyone, ESPECIALLY tired parents who want a holiday from answering questions and explaining things to wide-eyed, cute, unpinchable short human beings. Well, thats my take anyway. For us, four days was not quite enough. There was sun, sea and sunblocked frolicking in the powdery white sand and frothy beach. The shoreline stretched far, white and smooth into the distance, reducing people from lanky topless saggy beachcombers into little black dots on the horizon. I cursed my throbby ankle for not being able to add some salty sweat to that shoreline. Ohwell. Didn't matter in the end because there were still insufficient hours in the day to spend squishing toes in the sand. Not just mine, but twenty other small fleshy ones, turning wailing and flailing into an expression of joy. Amidst sandcastling and swimming, I hydrated the kids with milkshakes and fruit juices, while I sipped pina coladas and mai tais beside my draftbeer husband.

I loved the food; I could live forever on their freshly baked bread, and don't ask which was my favorite, I can't decide at all. Wholemeal, country, french, poppyseed, sesame, dontaskme. There was food for everyone; porridge and grilled fish for Rohan, hash browns and all sorts of pasta for Charu. Chocolate krispies, miso soup, Hong Kong coffee barbecue ribs, kuih lapis, lemon meringue pie. Slabs of ham, shards of bacon. Slivers of coconut, chunks of pomelo.

The most uncomfortable thing was the 1+ hour travel from Phuket airport to Club Med. But in a comfy plush van with ample water supply and interesting things to see all along the way, it doesn't qualify as a complaint, even with Rohan constantly demanding to "see stateeyues!!", thanks to the numerous sculptured statues standing at a roundabout, outside stores and atop scupltured temples zipping past.

I admit though, that going there right after the situation in Bangkok was unplanned good timing. At such a post-incident calm time, there is a quiet careful air all around, with additional security checks and law enforcement. Visitors cancel and stay away to obviously minimize risks to their well-being and travel schedules. So anyway, because of that, we had a clear passage to and from Phuket Airport, and Club Med itself had many cancellations, granting easier access to facilities -- shorter queues at the trapeze (darn I didn't get a shot of Tony climbing and swinging), better attention from the friendly G.O.s (I think G.O. is short for Guest Officer). All friendly, helpful and multinational. Show you to the bar? Get your kids some food? Help you carry stuff to the beach? Great concept, it encouraged all the guests to be friendly with each other too. Interestingly, I confirm, yet again, that my looks are innately Japanese, even to the Japanese themselves :-) I got a lot of "Japanese?" to which I'd say, "No.. Malaysian". But having two cute kids quickly smooths such quirky situations because everyone just shifts attention to their smooth little cheeks and coos, and nobody is for the worse...

I didn't get many still photos because we used our new videocam, from which I have not extracted them videos. So with my trusty Motorola U9, I only managed a few shots of the kids on the beach near sunset, as they hopped about trying to get the attention of a baby elephant transported there to help merrify a wedding-on-the-beach. It was the cuuuutest thing there besides Charu and Rohan. You be the judge:

Celebrity spottings on Kata Beach, Phuket:

Matt Damon hides behind Mickey sunnies and a huge grin (bloodied lip from filming fourth Bourne movie... no actually from slipping while shimmying off the bed..!)

.. and a brunette Gwen Stefani performs Hollaback girl in pink Barbie sunnies

Post-performance press conference

Baby elephant - flappy-eared, swishy-tailed, well-behaved, covered in fine fuzzy baby hair, and with cuteness that is inversely proportional to distance from it.

As sunset nears, cuteness is in abundance...

Charu with some Japanese tourist :-D

Rohan squishing toes in sand..

Charu savouring powdery texture of sand..

Rohan realizing that some basic needs must be attended to soon..

Charu: "Can I pelt the bride with this... ?" .. no actually she said, "This is a sand ball!!"

This post to push down the embarrassing blabbery previous one

2008-11-22T01:45:00.008+08:00

But ironically, this one'll expose an embarrassing incident that happened today. Why? Because I am masochistic or something, I don't know really. Maybe I'm just expunging it. Exorcising. Exercising. Oh no I did that already earlier. Bad idea because my ankle started talking to me. But that's another story. Maybe I should tell that one... maybe not. I need to shut the ankle up first.

Okay moving onto more exciting things. Who wants to see recent photos of my cuuuute children? Me! Memememee!! Sometimes I feel bad posting so many photos of Charu and Rohan in cyberspace, but where else can I stand back and admire with such pride, my lovely lovely beautiful little human beings? At home? Well yea but this is different. You see, here they are:

In Jakarta... which reminds me - I haven't posted a satisfactory story on that!! This one is taken by a window at Hotel Mulia, my favouritest photo of the lot, so favorite that it makes me spout worse English than usual

This is an old one (Rohan has hair!) lying in my Moto U9, I hope this helps you understand why chubbywubby is a staple adjective in our house. If this were a painting, I'd call it "Beanbag nap after lunch"

Rare organized pose midway through a no-rules galah panjang session on the badminton court...

Cuddling up to each other (and Goohee the IKEA-bought doggy - don't expect sophistication and tact when asking a 4-year-old to name her brother's dog) while watching TV

In kiddy pool in Rawang.. that reminds me, need to get a bigger pool!

Charu the patient princess, reading to Rohan the king on the throne... potty-training being one of the many sweet things that Charu is helping Rohan with. Truly a princess!

So there!! Ah what was this post for again? Oh yea... embarrassment. Well its not really that important or interesting anymore, because it cannot eclipse the spectacularness of the photos above. Agree? Greegree?? But oh well just get it off me huh. In a conference call today, I was discussing serious work issues when Charu sneaked up behind me and asked "Can you please wash my bum now?". Because I had kept her waiting for awhile, maybe 5 minutes. Well, some length of time that is longer than a little 4-year-old is prepared to wait for a bottomwash. Because I was being asked at that long badly-timed moment, to explain something. Because it is nobody's fault. Because I *think* I muted in time. Because I did not hear any faraway sniggering or anything after that request. Because the call went on without any awkward pauses. Because of all that, I HOPE that the embarrassment is only in my mind. Although, I guess I'm pushing my luck by confessing it right here...

Do you know the Muffin Man... ?

2008-11-12T02:11:00.003+08:00

Stop press YET AGAIN, I have an important piece of news to share with myself, and any of you who are remotely interested in happenings at my workplace. If you do know me, then you may know that I work at Motorola Malaysia, and at work, my colleagues and I call ourselves Motorolans. Like duhhh. Wait, this changes dramatically by end of this post..

Now, the day before yesterday (seeing that today is already what.. Wednesday!?!), I walked into a boardroom filled with big bosses at least one of whom I'd just had a conference call with on Friday, and at that time he seemed comfortably located at Arlington Heights, USA. No indication that on Monday at 11am, he along with his boss, would be face-to-face with me (in the case of his boss, it was elbow-to-elbow) in a Cyberjaya boardroom. So... since that *was* what I was facing (and elbowing), and since taking two steps backwards and joking about feeling like I was in AH did not at all dissolve the tableau (and I think elbows lie a lot less than eyes), it hit me within those few seconds, that some BIG huge almost-out-of-my-puny-Monday-coffee-drenched-braincelled-grasp news was about to land on us.

But of course. By 11.30am, we minute, smallfry project managers of Motorola Cyberjaya software teams, were digesting with much difficulty, the news that our site was acquired by Satyam, the big company from India, who'd recently set up shop down the road, and who were expanding their presence in Cyberjaya with a 15-acre facility that would be ready in June 09. Uh huh. Sounds like our new lokap iz gona be beeg, and next to da Balai Bomba Cyberjaya. Resipi untuk panik, ya? Heheh. Big heddek has started now. I not only have to digestify the news, I have to do it WELL enough to lead my team into this uncertain future, with as much confidence as I have running a marathon next week. But luckily I am NOT running a marathon next week!! But I AM going to have to walk into an employment deal with Satyam within the next month, or I will be out of a job. Ironically, I was contemplating being out of a job after Rohan came along. But the Work-From-Home program offered by Motorola allowed me to continue functioning, and functioning Effectively and Well at my job, well enough to stay on for a year and a half. Em... but now that I am in this comfy zone, it is dislodged. Typical of life isn't it. Change, change change. When you least expect it. OK lah admittedly I did expect some sort of change to be inevitable in the near future, seeing that no new projects (of significant and sustainable headcount) seemed to adhere to the site in recent times. But this is still a surprise. I guess that goes to show that... PEOPLE NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO WARNING SIGNS LIKE BUZZING IN THE BRAIN :-D :-D

OK more on this later. I owe this blog a Heckuva lot of updates. Bleddy hell. I will post lots, while I'm still a Motorolan, that's till the end of this year. By Jan 09, I will probably be a ... listen -- a Satyamite. Yesh, I guesh it rhymes with Marmite. Very Fresh..... read about the Satyam-Motorola deal here if you are genuinely interested in this sorta stuff. In the meantime, I need to sync this post with its title, so I hope you know the tune of the Muffin Man. If you don't, please get me or my kids to sing it for you the next time we meet, kay:

Do you know the Satyamite, the Satyamite, the Satyamite
Do you know the Satyamite, who's at Cyberjaya?
Yes we know the Satyamite, the Satyamite, the Satyamite
Yes we know the Satyamite, who's at Cyberjaya.

Oh craps. I DEFINITELY am so not in the league of my dear friend Preeta, nor any of the illustrious poets she reads and obtains inspiration from. PLEASE do not let my lack of poetic ability influence your judgement of her literary prowess, just check her out here.

Biker Gloves = 2 kids' amusement X 30 minutes

2008-10-24T16:13:00.006+08:00

Today's post is a lesson on how to secure an additional 30 minutes of relaxation in a house containing two very cute and energetic children. Just give them a pair of biker gloves!

Lovey Dovey with a pair of Gloveys...

What big Gorilla hands I have!!

Posing as an elite EPL football team goalkeeper

Rohan: What th' f@*$*!...

Biker gloves trying to squeeze some cuteness out...

The Walrus and the Porcupine

2008-10-15T18:13:00.000+08:00

Stop press for some breaking news.

I took Charu to The Curve last Saturday, so that I could achieve the two things that I like to on weekends - spend mommy-daughter-bonding time with Charu, and replenish the kitchen pantry. So off we went, and here are some delightful shots of Charu enjoying tomato sauce pasta and potato wedges on a high chair at Marche.

Well! So much for delight, we did our thing, walked and shopped, skipped and hopped all over Curve, then returned home with a trolleyful of Tesco groceries.

As I opened the front door of our apartment, I could *hear* guilt bouncing off the walls... I'm sure sure sure... or maybe it was the sight of Rohan eating ice cream on Papa's lap, on a rainy Saturday afternoon that made me think of one's teeth jingling and tingling with coldness... and that must've been the sound I heard. Not entirely surprising, because SOMETHING was needed to manage the responsibility... accountability that one must bear, after achieving something spectacular like MAKING A CUTE BOY BALD :-))) We had a Bald Rohan! Or almost-bald. It was sketchy patchy tetchy. Roughly chunkily hewn. Sawn shaven and shorn. Into a cutey baldey spiky round little head. Turns out that while we were out, papa decided to try out his new battery-operated shaver. Without accounting for the resilience and unity of Rohan's Curly Mop of Hair, whose strength in numbers must have tired out and eventually killed the brand new shaver battery before the job was done. So he finished up with scissors, and the result is well.... like that lahh. Well, that evening we had to get the barber to even it out, and he did look better after.

Before: Patchy, tiered and terraced... like a lazy hillside farmer's crop.

During: Our well-behaved little chub allowing Mister Barber with thick moustachio to skim his scalp.

After: Deed done, and at least the eyelashes are spared.

Bedtime: Charu claimed, "I'm sleeping in the same bed as... a walrus, and a porcupine!" Here's a dark, fuzzy shot of the phenomena:

Have passport, will travel to -- Jakarta!

2008-10-03T18:21:00.022+08:00

The blog posts here stagnated for half a month... sorry! I was busybusy, preparing for our First Ever trip overseas as a family; to Jakarta! Why there, asked quite a few colleagues and friends who when talking about regional travel are more accustomed to discussing trips to Singapore, Hong Kong, Phuket, Chiangmai and even Siem Reap. But... Jakarta? And here I admit, it would not be my destination of choice if Tony didn't have a business trip there, and if he had not also been there enough times to be familiar with the hotel and the place (its a province, by the way, consisting of a few towns... more on that later).

Well, to cut a very long story short (and believe you me, if you let me ramble I will go on for days till you never want to hear the word Jakarta again), it was a very very interesting trip, for a few reasons:

1) I have not been on an overseas trip for aaaaeeeons. Especially to a city (I mean province... blah no matter city province state land longkang stranger's backyard or outer space, anyone ask me if I want to go, and I will say yes before you finish your question) unfamiliar and waiting for getting-to-knowness. Consider me travel-deprived.

2) It was my first time taking The Two Kids on an overseas trip. Alone, by myself without maid or mother. Yea there was Tony, but he was away at work during the day, and some days he worked late. Meaning I was solo with two young bubbly energetic children. Okay okay okay... I wasn't really solo. There was the entire staff of Hotel Mulia at my beck and call, from the gardener by the kiddy pool to the room service waiter. I actually deserve a good hard kick for being so spoilt! And would you believe that my first Jakarta experience tells me this - Indonesian friendliness does not rival Malaysian. It SURPASSES it big time. They actually seem to genuinely take a liking to your kids, no fake I'm-paid-to-bare-my-teeth-at-you-and-your-annoying-kid sneer, but a lot of walk-out-of-the-way-and-towards-you-to-shake-your-kid's-hand kind of niceness. I thought it was the 5 star hotel treatment, until we walked the streets and I realised that people smiled amicably at Charu and Rohan even though these two goblins trespassed into their shopping paths. They greeted sweaty, fidgety and slightly whiny kids with pleasant smiles despite trying to berdating over their McDonald's lunch at a table half a foot away. I truly appreciate such tolerance!

3) Jakarta itself. Amazing, interesting, city (I do mean province) of contrasts. Rich in history, all of it revealed and displayed in gorgeous detail in the museums, unlike local history as I know it, that reveals only what Malaysia wants its gape-mouthed youth and touristy visitors to know about its past, leaving gaping holes that make Malaysian history a huge crushing bore. Hey don't take my word for gospel truth, maybe I just don't know better; this is from someone who got A2 for Sejarah in Form 3, and thanked goodness that there wasn't more nonsense to memorize in upper secondary forms. There is so much to say about what little I learnt about Indonesia from this little short trip, that I have to create another post, or risk this one extending way waaay to the bottom and leaving no space for photos.

And that reminds me too, I should tell you about my new photo-taking machine - its a MOTO U9 mobile phone :-D It replaces my trusty old Nokia that went bust a few weeks back. I had to get a Motorola phone eventually, or risk being ostracized by my colleagues. So by-the-by, get one that is bundled with camera, video, and lots of features that'll take me years to discover. More on that in another post, I guess.

Darn drat the Dutch (who invaded Jakarta back when it was known as Jayakarta... and occupied it for 350 years after renaming it Batavia). I downloaded my photos to another machine. Oh well maybe I do have a couple left in this one that I can post. At least that would spare you the agony of me spouting awful Jakartaisms like the one I just slipped into this paragraph...

Rohan with Papa on a scary bird ride called "Burung Tempur" ('bird of war'? 'war bird'? 'warbler'? :-P). I don't think scary is the intent, but it wobbled a lot (hey so maybe 'wobbler'...heheh!!) because it was probably not meant to carry an adult of Tony's height. Safety measures on these rides seemed horribly lacking, we realized after a few rounds...

Charu sitting on a stone ball in the courtyard of what used to be the Governor's Office (now a museum). Many similar balls are scattered quite puzzlingly all over the area. I'm sure they aren't really for kids to sit on and flash their innerwear. Oh and in case it isn't obvious, the tall, strapping dude next to Charu, is my little chubbywubby Rohan. Eight years from now he'll hate the word 'chubbywubby'. Heheh..!!

Em. More, loads more photos I will post later! Once I get hold of them.

Say it, sayitsayit SAY IT

2008-09-17T00:02:00.020+08:00

Okay, enough is enough.

This blog is meant to be my scrawlyscribbly sketch pad, where I slap around information, scrape together my thoughts, slice and splice my life with words, and of course post photos of people and places that matter to me, and as is evident to those of you who put yourselves through the nightmare of picking your way through my jumbly sentences (a task that I truly, humbly appreciate!), they are mostly happy, positive thoughts. But today.. or tonight rather, this post will be different. A little darker, I guess. Neither planned nor premeditated. I just know it, like how I knew that the rain would last throughout the night whenever the bullfrogs sang past a certain time in the evening, where we stayed, way back in time, on the Kampung Gajah mines. As I sit here a little past midnight on the eve of the Nuzul Quran holiday, my stomach still digesting Old Town curry mee and warm tea, I just just know it. The signs are there (ditto the bullfrogs) -- the bile rising (nope, certainly not caused by the friendly, fragrant curry mee), the chlorinated taste of sinister intentions, the stench of greed in the Malaysian air... oh no oh no... too late, the lyrics of Michael Jackson's Thriller have begun to run through my head, "It's Close To Midnight And Something Evil's Lurking In The Dark... Under The Moonlight You See A Sight That Almost Stops Your Heart... " ... "Under The Moonlight You See A Sight That Almost Stops Your Heart" ..

Bleddy hell, my dad would say. OK, brain back on track. I tell you what's eating me -- the recent incidents hogging Malaysian news, that's what. The Malaysian government fighting to keep its members from defecting. The deep skepticism and criticism of the Opposition coalition's promises. The extensive efforts taken to sabotage the returning Opposition leader's path back into power. And now, the last straw. Well, at least before I open my brain and spill out its contents into my blog. The Last Straw to me, is what looks like very desperate attempts to withhold information from people.

If the Malaysian government were a horse with a broken leg in an old western, it would be shot and killed. Nothing personal, its the most humane thing to do, John Wayne would reason. I suggest that some parties take heed of such logic. Now I have a habit of going on and on for miles before I am understood, so to keep my train of thought simple, I am going to write out a list of FACTS, proven or provable. Tell me if you spot any statement that can be untrue:

) Thanks to the relatively recent blogging culture, information on the Internet is published directly Brain to Browser, without pre-processing by an intermediate filtration system.
[filtration system = editor, spell-checker, political-correctness-checker, etc.]

) All mass media other than the Internet, can be filtered by the government. Okay, maybe its a bit hard to snuff out pesky pavement-pounders who hand out leaflets at the foot of the Central Market LRT station... but still... if really want, that also can control one, isn't it...

) Malaysian mass media is filtered by the government.

) Filtering removes substance from the end result.

) A huge chunk of Malaysian society access the Internet; a chunk far bigger than a day's worth of crowd passing through the Central Market LRT station escalators.

) The historical loss of majority by the ruling government in the recent Malaysian elections, can be (and has been) attributed to people having access to unfiltered information, used to form their decisions on who to vote for.

) Based on the above premises, it was unfiltered information that caused people to decide differently from earlier voting years.

Therefore, filtering information from the people kept the government in power.

Oh man, and all this time we thought it was because the government was actually satisfying the needs of the people. Then again, that is what we were told by the mass media...

Let's get to another sector in my brain that has something to spit out. Same format, just a list of factual statements:

) In a democratic system of government, when you are voted out in favour of someone else, it means that the majority of people think that Someone Else can run the country better than you.

) Definition of BETTER – adjective, compar. of good with best as superl. - of superior suitability, advisability, desirability, acceptableness
dictionary.com definition of Better

) In a democratic system of government, if you want to run the country, you need to win the vote of the majority of people.

) A good way to win votes is to do something (or some thingS) that make people go "Yes, I will vote for you". Why would people say that? Well, Because...... and there can be quite a few reasons, right? Because you will solve my problems. Because you will be more honest than the other fella. Because you will put my tax money to better use than the other fella. Because my children and I will be treated fairly, compared to my peers around me.

) Everything is relative. You just need to do better than The Other Fella, and you will be favoured. So if the other fella is delivers a handful of peanuts, you must deliver a large festive pack of Menglembu groundnuts. If the other fella delivers the world, you have to deliver the universe.

) Now... doing things to annoy people, will most certainly not win Malaysians' confidence in you. It puts you in a WORSE situation. WORSE light.

) Definition of WORSE –adjective, compar. of bad and ill. 1. bad or ill in a greater or higher degree; inferior in excellence, quality, or character.
dictionary.com definition of Worse

) Here is a list of obviously annoying things that you can do, that will not gain support from people:
- Locking up a reporter for um... apparently, for reporting.
- Locking up a blogger for ummm.. blogging.
- Locking up an MP for um.. unclear reasons.

) If the earlier statement and supporting premises aren't clear, here they are again:
- A reporter reports. Detaining her for doing her job is confusing. And, not having a clear reason makes it annoying. Oh, the reason was clear? I see, yes. I suppose it does make a lot of sense to arrest and detain someone for reporting a racist remark, because their life would be in danger. And yes of course, the REASON for detention and arrest must not be divulged for the first 24 hours. I wonder who or what the threat is. Here is a revelation - maybe... just MAYBE, they are the SAME people who hid those weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Camonnn, think about it.. they did a GREAT job hiding those weapons, cos we can't find them till today. They must be doing an equally great job of hiding themselves now, because in my naive mind, the best way to defuse a life-threatening situation is to immobilise the threat, not the target. Ah but thennnn.... since cannot find (maybe still in Iraq), then, catch and detain the target lah. Right? Aiyahh so sensible lah. I aso never tink of this earlier.
- A blogger blogs. Blogs contain Brain to Browser (to paraphrase an earlier term) unfiltered ravings and rantings, just like the stuff you're reading right now. Controlling what comes out of someone's brain, is like reading his personal diary and telling him, "hey you can't write that!! It makes me look fat! Delete it.. NOW!!" So arresting, detaining, charging with defamation, all these things tells onlookers that his paragraphs of prose are digging deep into the government's ribs, and when the government spends a lot of effort silencing him, instead of proving them untrue, it makes people wonder if those claims have some truth. And after some time, the saga becomes annoying. Because it is hard to tell what is true and what is not.
- The third one is tricky. Without a clear reason to detain someone, it literally means that ANYONE can be locked up. One fine morning you're pulling weeds growing through the culvert in front of your house gate, because you noticed them sprouting as you spoke to a group of neighbours petitioning against the construction of yet another mosque in the area... and the next moment, you're in DETENTION. One afternoon, the day after participating in a Hindraf march, you're serving your special secret-formula kopi-kau to a conference roomful of corporate executives, and the next moment you're being DETAINED. What for? Oh, we don't need a reason if you're being detained in this way. SCARY. And annoying!

If I didn't know better, I might have the ODDAUDacity to say that... the government tries very hard to control what gets reported in the mass media. Because when they lose that control, people get to know things that will make them go, "Icchh this is not the government I want to vote for". But now, I have already said it, so I guess I do not know any better after all.

I now leave you all to ponder my SERIOUS DARK post with this visual aid. It is the video Thriller, before government mass media filtration policies were applied:

Photos as promised

2008-09-04T19:07:00.008+08:00

But first, I have to take back something I said in the previous post. With great and MUCH regret. With awful gut-wrenching disappointment. With cringing, teeth-gritting consternation... I present to you...

Awful shot of me panting and wheezing through the Lake Gardens at 7am

Okay well ACTUALLY (brain tapping into skill possibly bestowed by Chinese ancestral lineage - think think fast fast!!) ... the shot is not of me wheezing and panting; its the START of the race and I was late to the starting line, so I'm actually pinning on my front number, wrapping my mandatory-ripped-towel around my wrist (for habitual brow-mopping) and starting my stopwatch. All at the same time. I am amongst the back-end stragglers who were there for a casual jog through the Lake Gardens aiming only for the post-run goodie bag (can you spot a person in *slippers*??). Hmph.. next race, I'll be ready! Paula Radcliffe crouch, laces tied and first-mile pace all worked out in my head...!! Nyahahaaa.

OK that's enough. Of me at least. Here are the REAL good shots:

WELCOME to the Land of Foamheads... ruled by the Pink Fairy Goblin Princess... that's me!!

I am the Conqueror of the Land of Foamheads, or soon WILL be.... help me get this disguise on, you useless serfs...!!

Urrrggh geramnye, I can't make a dent in the Fairy Princess's smile..!! This land conquering business is harder than I thought...

I say once, like saying a HUNDRED times okeii...

The historic formation of OPEC - Only Pudgy & Extremely Cute

OPEC treaty sealed with a plastic pineapple, and A CUTE CHUBBY WUBBY HANDSHAKE

WHY has this spot been idle??

2008-09-02T23:28:00.013+08:00

Well, hmmm... because I had been busy with:

1) Moving daily chores, tasks, meals, kids, bills, etc. along the weeks... although some weeks weren't so mundane, for example the one leading up to the Sunday morning spent running 10K through the KL Lake Gardens, fast enough to break my sub-60-min target, and two toenails on my right foot. Tony followed too, though he didn't try anything fancy like, say, keeping up with me. He ran his own race, at his own good pace, completing in a little over an hour. Running non-stop for that long is commendable, though I did get to down 4 cups of Milo -- still amazing-tasting and impossible to reproduce, and collect the 1901 hotdogs before he finished. Spent post-run draped across a Lake Gardens buggy, ogling at silly-brities... I mean celeb-brities who grazed... I mean graced the event. The best eye-candy was Amber Chia, shuffling... almost-waddling, Ah-Lian-style past us while yapping into her mobile phone, bouncing her layered coiffure (and a$$) along deliberately with each step. No sign of the feline grace and style of a Guess Look Of The Year winner, but maybe 8.30am was a little early for a model, some of whom apparently do not roll out of bed for less than USD10K. Says a lot about me, dragging myself out at 5am for 10K...ilometres of Running.

2) Using up spare hours in each day to prepare for the abovementioned 10K. Running a sub-60-min 10K after a two-year layoff that includes being cut open to squeeze out a tubby child with the cutest grin in the world, sure requires some work. Fuyohh. Next target - sub-50-min 10K!

3) Reading "Evening Is The Whole Day". I just finished it, and what a totally terrific tome it is! I have other half-read books lying around, but this one only survived unread through days where I was tranquilized by fatigue, or if I had to choose between reading it or squeezing some mileage into my day. If the latter won, the whirr of the treadmill would sound like this after 40 minutes - "Malhotra...Dwivedi...Malhotra...Dwivedi..."

Watch the space for more updates. I want to post more photos of the kids, because those are cuter than any shot of me panting and wheezing at the Lake Gardens at 7am (so far, no such awful shots anywhere around... thank goodness!!).

Got one of these last week... not as 'great' as ones I collected some 20 years ago (has it been that long???), but o well... good to still be able to earn them... 20 years later :-)

He is BACK!!!

2008-08-18T15:58:00.007+08:00

A HAAA there, so my Other Half has returned from his travels! Yep, he has been back for almost a week now, and I didn't post earlier because I have been busy celebrating. But of course! There is so much to do when one's Other Half returns from a THREE WEEK trip. So much updating to do -- Yes I started your car, the batteries are okay (but what I found stashed in the driver's side pocket isn't!), DontForget next week is our 10K Run okayyy (already???), Rohan can pretend to ride a motorbike around the living room (Rohan: "Vvvvvv..." (saliva everywhere, cute chubby clenched fist revving imaginary bike accelerator) "Vvvvvvv... NOTOBIKE! NOTOBIKE!!"),

Then there is the luggage-digging, to see what goodies he brought back for us. Although I buat tak tau, I actually know why it is so worthwhile for him to buy so much stuff and line his luggage with it. So that he DOES NOT HAVE TO UNPACK. So that his gleeful wife and children will do it for him. When I unearth the kids' new shirts and cute dresses, I will also put away all the Bliss moisturiser strewn all over the bag (damn good stuff, probably from the hotel - Lemon & Sage Body Butter its called). Before proudly parading my new handbag and jeans, I will also dig out unwashed laundry from all the bag crevices. As I catwalk up and down the house in my new shoes, I put away all the cables, tickets, books, seminar t-shirts, receipts, chocolates (a few of which go into my mouth), extra currency, sweaters, toiletries, chicken entrails... awright kidding on the last one, just checking if you're paying attention. Can you tell that I'm really happy to have him back home? Home and near, for me to annoy, hug, pinch, shout at, run with, shovel kids at, kick at night. Sigh. Good to have him home.

If you happen to be re-visting this post, you may recall that there was a different image here... sorry but I was made to replace it with this (apparently less-revealing) one:

And, in case it again comes under objectionable scrutiny, here on standby is an even less revealing shot...

Reading Habit and Habitat...

2008-08-06T01:01:00.007+08:00

I got tagged by Joyce with a meme on reading habits... which, she patiently explained, just means that I need to do as she did, which was to post/blog answers to a bunch of questions about my reading habits. But if you notice, the very FIRST question assumes that one is an avid book lover. Oh what the heck, its true I do love to read, its just that the presumptuousness of that first question is making my hand itchy to change it... doo-o-oon't...

Do you remember how you developed a love for reading?
My home was stocked with a good collection of books, accessible from the age that I could reach out for them. They were a great mix of fiction and non-fiction -- The Brittanica Encyclopaedia, Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, Atlas of the World, Countries and Their People, Stories of Childhood, Everyday Science. Opening a book was like swimming in magic; pop your imagination with an amazing historical fact, draw mom's wrath by using her kitchen for scientific experiments (I once split all her celery trying to get some coloured water to seep up from them..), and get swallowed by stories from all over the world; they had drawings so life-like that I probably believed in their existence. I still do sometimes.. you never know if your neighbour is actually the March Hare... or Tweedledee (or Tweedledum)...

What are some books you read as a child?
Alice In Wonderland (will you, won't you, will you, won't you... will you come and join the dance??), Aesop's Fables, Dickens' Classics like David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, etc., Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew (till she bored me with her lack of action with Ned Nickerson), Modesty Blaise (my favorite kicka$$ action heroine!), sections of mushy romance novels (almost never a whole book; on can-bring-storybooks-to-school Fridays, my classroom partner would bring Loveswept and Mills&Boon and show me the 'relevant' portions... thanks Clare!),

What is your favourite genre?
If I have to say what I usually like, it would be suspense/thrillers with a logically convoluted storyline and preferably a troubled, reluctant hero - you know.. Jason Bourne (and I wish I could name a female character).. ! However after about 3 or 4 of those, I tend to crave some deep, long literary fiction that slowly peels apart an entity (person, family, community, etc.) throughout the book... I will read the sentences again and again, absorbing everything like a sponge... I think I'm scaring some of you...

Do you have a favourite novel?
I do but it changes, usually in favour of the latest one that has charmed and warmed its way into the cockles of my heart :-D I'm not sure if that is natural. Right now it is "Evening Is The Whole Day" by Preeta Samarasan. It used to be The God Of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, which strangely enough, reminded me of Preeta. And before that, it used to be Illusions by Richard Bach, which was gifted to me by Preeta...! Yea yea.... all oso Preeta Preeta Preeta onni lah, I hear you say...

Where do you usually read?
On my living room couch.

When do you usually read?
At night, when the house is quiet.

Do you usually have more than one book you are reading at a time?
Yes I do!

Do you read nonfiction in a different way or place than you read fiction?
Other than cookbooks, I read all books end to end, anytime and anywhere.

Do you buy most of the books you read, or borrow them, or check them out of the library?
I buy them.

Do you keep most of the books you buy? If not, what do you do with them?
Yes I do keep them, unless they are borrowed or flicked by friends or family.

If you have children, what are some of the favorite books you have shared with them? Were they some of the same ones you read as a child?
My four-year old firebrand goblin princess and year-old wookiesque charming boy have already devoured Mother Goose, and will listen raptly to "Wallace and Gromit - Curse of the Were-rabbit". When they can read whole sentences, I will probably introduce them to Hans Christian Andersen, Dr Seuss and Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland. I grew up loving that last one. All kids should be given the chance to dive into Jabberwocky ...

What are you reading now?
Evening Is The Whole Day by Preeta Samarasan (whose return I await, both book and author; book was loaned to an aunt who wanted something to read on the bus ride to St Anne's Feast and author is due to be in KL in..nnn... October?).
7 Habits of Highly Effective Families by Stephen Covey
Increase Your Financial IQ by Richard Kiyosaki

Do you keep a TBR (to be read) list?
If mental lists count, then yes.

What’s next?
Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie.

What books would you like to reread?
JD Salinger's Catcher In The Rye, Alice Walker's The Color Purple, and Tom Clancy's Bourne trilogy.

Who are your favourite authors?
Salman Rushdie, Charles Dickens, Preeta, Robert Ludlum, Tom Clancy, the list is long..

Thanks Bookwormoyce, that was kind of fun! Made me use some calories, brains and time.. ahaaa using up time is good, it gets me nearer to 12th August, the day my heart returns home...

Oh and... I guess I should pass the buck right, but I didn't know who next to tag, till I noticed at your blog Joyce, that someone called Adino would like to work on this, so he can be my first tagg-eee la yea; izzat how it goes? :-D

Countdown.. TWO weeks to go..

2008-07-29T23:34:00.009+08:00

So here I am, at the halfway checkpoint of my 3 week void. Comparing that to a 10K race (incidentally, I will run one in August :-P), its 5K done, 5 to go... ok lahh. Boleh tahan. The 2nd half is *supposed* to be faster, but it depends on how well you have prepared yourself, both physically and mentally, for the race. I mean trip. I mean both. Hey so they ARE similar :-)

I went to the SS2 market this morning, after sending Charu to school. It felt pleasant and nice to walk along the stalls, as though loneliness was alright... or at least bearable, if spent in an anonymous crowd of morning marketers. Marketing itself turned out to be quite therapeutic. At the vegetable stall - pick up some tomatoes, smell the mint, flick the spinach, throw in some french beans, point at the broccoli... listen to the guy calculate aloud in rapid Cantonese, pay him off and collect large plastic bag of veggie... surreal. At the yau char kway stall - ask for some crullers and tau foo fah, get an extra ham ching peang... sweet. At the fruit stall - buy some red cherries and bananas, get taken for a ride down banana lane; overpriced pisang berangan is so insincere... !

Bookstores are also a great place to while away time. Here are some shots of the last trip to MPH.

Woo hoo going to BOOOKSHOPPYSHOP!!

Unhappy because request to watch car DVD is turned down (One Utama is just 5 minutes awayyy... !)

Unhappiness dissolves into enchantment...

.. and absorption...

... chubby face with MPH as backdrop...

The funniest thing happened there; I had earlier purchased July's Quill magazine where Preeta graces the cover. Charu and Rohan LOVE to look through that one, because Aunty Preeta looks really good, and they love her anyway; what's not to love? She is pleasant, bought them their beloved Wombat book, and its so easy to say her name -- AN-TEE PEE-TA :-) So at the magazine section, Charu spotted the Quill magazine, grabbed it and waved it about yelling, "Heyyy, Aunty Preeta!!" which of course attracted Rohan's attention immediately (the intended outcome) and so begun a chase all over MPH, Rohan crying, "I want Aunty Peeta! I want Aunty PEETA!! I wannnnntttt!!! AUNTEEEEE PEEEETAAAA!!!!!!" Too darn bad I couldn't videotape them bearing up and down the MPH store aisles, Rohan yelling angrily at Charu as she waves the Quill triumphantly and Preeta's face bobs up and down, as if nodding approvingly...

Some of the kids are really out of control; were I MPH management, I'd hire the Pied Piper to lure all the horrible misbehaving kids out to say, Parkson Grand's fine bone china section or the outdoor fish pond. What intense feelings, you perfectionist mommy, you may admonish. Well, at least it moves my a$$ to behave a little more exemplarily than the parents who stare blankly as their kids kick the books around, then walk away from the mess nonchalantly. Do you allow that in your own home too??!? Oh of course you do, I forget that you can always just yell at your maid to pick up after those precious replicas of you. OK enough of nagging I'm really grumpy aren't I; guess I need to find a way to cheer myself up. Okay -- Audrey BEFORE THE END OF THE DAY, find something nice to think about, and say... :-D

Three Week countdown

2008-07-29T12:30:00.014+08:00

My three week countdown started last week, 21st July; the day my koboi went off on a three-week working trip/traipse to London, Houston and San Diego. Three weeks of blissful, peaceful days with no bickering, haggling and yelling. No annoying requests, tickling or laughing. No people-watching, sniggering-at-SPGs-with-fake-accents, midnight movies, late-night running in the dark, mosquito-lurking park, Old Town coffee or bumpinthenight-stuff-thatyouneednotknowmoreof... Hm. Doesn't sound good at all. My choice is obvious, I prefer to *have* the whole package; noise, arguments, laughter, annoyances... all of it! But I don't have the luxury of choice these three weeks. O well. SO... in preparation for the gaping chasm that would form in my heart, I lined up some HACKTIVITIES to keep me occupied. Not like I am not already, with full-time work, errands to run, two kids to feed, clothe, raise, make happy and keep healthy, and now my mother here to babysit them (and I her :-P).. but you know, one needs to be busied with things that are more... stress-relieving... goof-offish... So that the Brain Section that controls the Miss-Your-Loved-One-Pricking-Sensation does not get any blood supply to work itself...

SOW!!! Here's my list:

1) Project-Team-Ordered-N-Organized Team building. This kept me away from the office on the first working day, which turned out to be a good thing; The Office is where I get occasional SMS and IM updates, the lack of which would have turned my mood grey by the end of the day. At least finding my way to and from Desa Waterpark used up some energy. As did some good hard laughing, at the expense of team mates...

I have a coconut tree growing out of my head, and Kavitha has a.. a.. more stylish tree growing out of hers...

Cheating?? Who..wha'.. ME? No lahhh where got..??!?!

Two yellow racing worms in the cool blue water (can you see me??)

Upon closer scrutiny, them racing worms are... infested with people! And you can now see me clearly, forming part of the infestation...

This'll be the next Olympic Sport, you mark my words...

This was labeled "Photo Of The Event"; THANKFULLY the yellow ball is **above** my head :-P

2) Runningrunningrunning. Staircase, treadmill, gym, around the house, over n under the kids, allovertheplace. Running. That would rattle my brain enough to stem the bloodflow to aforementioned Brain Section. Now this isn't really a goof-offish activity, but its one of the few routine activities of mine that works well as a Calm Balm. So I will never leave this out.

3) Scraping together photos of cute chubby faces. Here I go:

I wish I could share right here, the smell of light perspiration in their hair. If you could just imagine a whiff of it, your troubles will be so far away... and nevermore will they be here to stay... oh I believe... in yesterday.... oh what th'... ?? Oh sorry. Got into sortofa trance, singing Yesterday. The fragrance of toddler neck nape does that to you, I'm telling you. YES even imagining it gets you high. Intoxicating...

4) I guess BLOGGING counts, that is why I started this blog last week, and only am posting it today.... :-P

Mommy duty - school break entertainment

2008-06-30T13:16:00.021+08:00

Charu had a two-week school break a few weeks ago.

Don't these people in the business of schooling four-year-olds understand the concept of school for four-year-olds? WE pay THEM to provide us a break. From our four-year-olds. WE need our break from this:

Charu: (vaulting over 2 large squares of marble flooring) "Mummy, look at this!"
Charu: (vaulting over 3 squares of marble flooring) "MummMEEE!! Look at me!! QUICK!!"
Me: "Very clever!! Now let me read, okay. Jump another twenty times - Count.. one... two... three... " (back to reading the paper)
Charu: (walks over) "Mummy, what are you reading?"
Me: "Today's paper."
Charu: (points at Deep Heating Rub ad. Its has a man's silhouette with the outline of the nervous system inside) "Mummy, what is his name?"
Me: "He doesn't have a name."
Charu: "Why? Why he has no name, ah?"
Me: "Because he is not a real man."
Charu: (points at photo of our PM giving speech) "What is his name?"
Me: "Badawi."
Charu: "Ba-da-wi. Why his face like that?"
Me: "Because he cannot remember what he wants to say."
Charu: "Why? Why he cannot remember ah?"
Me: "Because he is old."
Charu: (pointing at Michael Ballack) "What is his name?"
Me: "Michael."
Charu: "You mean like Uncle Michael?"
Me: "Yes but without the big tummy."
Charu: "Why his face like that?"
Me: "He is angry because he cannot get his ball into the right place." (camon la, she's four years old, not fourteen; innocence still intact!)
Charu: "Ooo... He is showing temple??"
Me: "Yes! He is showing temPER."
Charu: (pointing at Annika Sorenstam) "What is her name?"
Me: "Annika."
Charu: "Annika!!! Like the Barbie Doll!!!"
Me: "Yes like the Barbie doll."
Charu: (pointing at someone annoying-looking, maybe it was Shalin Zulkifli, or maybe I was just really annoyed at this point) "What is h..."
Me: "WILL YOU PLEASE LET ME READTHISPAPERINPEACEFORALEETLEBEETLEWHILE???"

This is followed by a 2-minute mother-daughter-no-eye-contact-pouting session, followed by the total end of my newspaper-reading session, where I attempt to explain myself to a folded-arm, harrumphing four-year-old dimple-faced goblin, that I do not want to play "What is his/her name?" with my newspaper because I selfishly want to read it without getting whiplash from looking up and down between the b*#@*%* paper and her.

DO I NEED THIS???

No I certainly don't, sooooooooooo.... with the 2-week school break looming, and having some presence of mind, I made emergency plans to remedy the potentially grave situation of leaving an energetic child cooped up in an apartment unit for more than 3 afternoons in a row. I took a day off each week, and took Charu out for some extensive shopping mall walkabouts :-) I did examine other options (like a picnic, or letting her join me on errands), but in the interest of child safety and comfort, malls really are still the most sensible places, being air-conditioned, relatively safe for walkabouts, and filled with colourful stores, children's entertainment outlets and food options. Phew!

The Curve is a very good option given that it houses IKEA which has its own children's play area. Elsewhere in The Curve also are 2 bouncing-castle play areas, RM8 per entry, that provide endless jumping fun for an energetic child :-D. One Utama works for me too, as it has the Rainforest where RM2 gets you a packet of fish food to sprinkle at the healthy-looking fishes; and Kidsportz that has obstacles and outdoor-type activities for kids but in an indoor play area, and you can pay extra to have their personnel babysit your kids while you shop in peace :-)))

Now I only have shots of our day out at KLCC, as we could meet up with Papa for lunch then, so he managed to snap a happy four-year-old clicking heels outside the Petronas Science Centre (we couldn't get in because it was CLOGGED with people, all of whom needed to get their kids out the house, far away from four-walled spaces with newspapers and other objects with why-inducing possibilities), Kinokuniya (which wasn't so clogged but still full of children, some of whom were swatting huge flies against the glass window overlooking the KLCC park, leaving awful spatters of fly-juice... something worthwhile that they can write in their "What I Did During The School Holidays" essays...), and anywhere that allowed her to walk and walk and walk.... tiring out those cute little legs, that cheeky little face framed by wispy little hair, that covers her kissable little head, encapsulating that intelligent little brain....

Yahoooooo I'm in 'Kay Yell See See!!!

Papa taking photos of me in a good mood!!!

Charu: "Yeeee fly juice on the window!!"

Charu tiring of Papa Paparazzo..

Back to reading Clifford the Big Red Dog...

Back home after KLCC...

Canny Ong - We Will Not Forget

2008-06-23T22:51:00.007+08:00

Five years have passed since June 2003, when Canny was taken from us. Five years. It sounds like a long time, but certainly doesn't feel that long ago.

My memory of Canny's passing starts with the searing-hot shock of seeing her photo in the papers, first listed as missing, then found, but no more Canny alive. Just dead. Such an indigestible thought then. The blur feelings that followed helped, perhaps; the heavy ache of seeing her mom put on a brave face for the media and the huge obscene crowd, mostly thick-skinned busybodies who just wanted a glimpse of the 'glamour' that surrounded her sensationally atrocious death. But Aunt Pearly couldn't hide the trembling fingers and trickle of tears underneath the sunglasses. The pain in the father, sisters and Brendan's face, as they greeted well-wishers (how well can you wish someone at such a time??), I remember things in slow-motion. Shielding a teary-eyed Sonia from photographers, putting on a brave kayu face (dug up from somewhere, didn't know I had one oso), talking to reporters, each one nosier than the previous. Meeting old schoolmates that I had not seen since Form 5, knowing that the only reason why I am is because Canny isn't around anymore. Feeling weird and sick in the stomach (I later found out the cause of that; morning sickness. How how happy... for me at least, except that I now couldn't turn on Yahoo Messenger and share the glorious news with can_ong because the smiley would never light up again).

At least planning for the memorial a month later gave us something to do instead of twist our fingers off in sadness and frustration. Admittedly, for quite some time, my frustration stemmed from anger. And indignation. Read Marina Mahathir's keynote speech for the memorial and a light bulb of understanding might flicker on, somewhere...

On countless nights since June 2003, and especially in June, I lie awake, not by choice but because my mind has a shroud of whatif thoughts floating hazily about. I think - What if I got to tell Canny about that website I found, that listed all the different melons that we were discussing earlier. Melons for soup, yellow melons, winter melons, water melons. Whatif Canny were still alive today, would she have a blog? Would she read mine? Whatif I got to meet up with her with my kids in tow? Whatif she got to have kids too? Whatif that last conversation with her and Preeta, about red wine and cheese, became an *actual* meet-up, over red wine and cheese? We possibly could eat through a few crates of each, yet neither finish nor tire of talking about our past and present.

Then again, no need to wait for June whatif nights; every day throws numerous incidences that trigger pleasant memories of Canny. Yes, why should they be sad? Especially now, five years on. Canny would be MAD if she saw us all sitting around muram-faced because we miss her. She'd kick us in our sorry little asses and yell, "Heyyy!!! What lahhh you all!!", she would like things that either make us laugh, or taste delicious, no bleary weary heavy thoughts and stuff... And SO, in memory of the amazing, beautiful, laughter-inducing girl with lively dancing eyes and heart of gold, here are just some pleasant memories I have in my mind right now. I'm sure that at 70, the age that she thought was appropriate to die (not too old lah, just nice, she once wrote me), I could still cackle as I crank out more memories of our escapades, so many are the fun times we had back when were were schoolkids.

Happy school girls

Happy Audrey, Canny, Preeta, Clare :-D

Rolling out pizza dough in my kitchen creates a floury mess and cheesebready aroma that brings me back to my mum's kitchen in 1989 (or was it 1988) where Canny and I made pizzas for the class party... kneading, rolling, pummelling, mashing, grating and eventually collapsing on the floor reeking of sardines and cheese, and splattered with tomato puree. And laughing. Always laughing. Next morning 6am, we carried all ten pizzas on the school bus to a roomful of appreciative classmates. "Waaah how you can make pizza like this?? BATTER than Pizza Hut la, aitelyou!! Can open shoppp areddi, no need to sit SPM!!!" Chomp chomp. Yummy sardine pizza sprinkled with green peppers and mozarella cheese. Made with two pairs of Ipoh-sun tanned hands. I still use that recipe, its foolproof.

Bananarama's "Love In The First Degree" was performed in white collared shirts knotted at the belly, and green and red flare skirts from the school store. She was a fantastic dancer, I would bet on her against anyone in "So You Think You Can Dance?" Yes, even Mel that Spice Girl.

Belinda Carlisle's "Circle In The Sand" was mangled by Phaik San, Sonia, Kathleen and Canny into "Piglet In The Sand" - 'piglet in the sand, round and round...' I can't remember the lyrics because I laughed too much and didn't hear it all.

Remember's Kaoma's Lambada? If you say no, you're not missing anything :-D The music video was deemed too hot to show on telly, but I saw a few seconds of it someplace and was asked to "showlaaa how they dance? why banned one ah?" I needed a partner and Canny it was. It requires a knee between each other's legs, and some hip gyrating, standard MTV fare of today, but with far more clothing and big 80s hair. The girls went "Wooo!!! Sooo sexy ah??!?!?!!" Convent girls were after all, cloistered, cultured and clad in pinafores with petticoats underneath. Hip gyrating? Terrrrrrible!!!

And of course, I must mention the very place where we spent the most part of our childhood - school. School in general, and especially Form Five. She sat in front of me and beside Preeta. The space between us might as well have been the Bermuda Triangle, because no body of knowledge could pass through and remain intact; it either got misconstrued because none of the six ears were listening, or obliterated by doodling, singing and first-class story-telling. I mean, CAMON lah which one more interesting to hear about; the cute guy at McDonald's or "proses menoreh getah di Bagan Serai"?? Its probably not Bagan Serai, but I wouldn't know I wasn't paying attention. Hey, at least ONE of us makes a living out of story-telling now, check out my previous post!!! No need to know how to tap rubber.

Yay bestnye kelas batal; boleh main kat koridor...

Like I said, I could go on... but I'll spare all of you who reached this far, and are groaning. That's it for my special June post, dedicated to Canny dearest. Photo credits go mostly to Joyce; I took them from the memorial slide show...

EVENING IS THE WHOLE DAY

2008-06-23T18:00:00.004+08:00

Its here, its available its here itshereitshereITSHERE!!!

Preeta's novel Evening Is The Whole Day is now available at MPH, 30% discount if purchased online, from here http://www.mph.com.my/search/nsearch.cfm?do=detail&pcode=0007280424 and THANKS Joyce for telling me :-D

I thought I saw a Goblin...

2008-06-12T13:45:00.007+08:00

I thought I saw a Goblin
Masquerading as a Djinn
I looked again and saw it was
My daughter's cheeky grin..!

After much indecision, I decided... to reveal... to the whole world (or just this blog, which theoretically is the whole world)... that... the original rhyme goes like this:

I thought it was a mountain
Upon the railway track
I looked again and saw it was
Madanjeet on her back..

SORRY MRSMADANJEET, WELOVEYOUJUSTTHATWETHOUGHTYOURCHESTYPROPORTIONSIMPRESSIVE....

If you ever stumble upon this, I hope you take it as a compliment. From us naughty school girls... :-P

From Resipi Ondeh-ondeh to "Evening Is The Whole Day"

2008-06-02T13:53:00.012+08:00

ToDAY, I just want to wax lyrical about Preeta, my dear friend from school girl days in Ipoh, who successfully chased her dreams, kinda like how we used to chase men around the school compound... well okay NO we didn't really chase them but it was fun to pretend... that there were men worth chasing... in the school compound, hahaa! Let's see there was - Muniandy the gardener, with muscles (ok, actually tummy) bulging under his darkblu shert as he hoisted pot(belly)s about, watered pavement n plants and ripped up weeds... all to Sr. Maureen's beck and call. The roti canai man, tall dark and um reeking of roti-dough, arms sinewy from all that kneading. And dontokk about the kacang puteh man, with his five o' clock shadow........ Hey we didn't have much choice back then okayy, the male presence in school could be counted off one hand. I could waste more time describing how hot n bothered some girls would get whenever St Michael's School boys came over to sell their Annual School Play tickets! Worrrrssse still if Ipoh happened to host Junior World Cup Hockey. O well whatudu, we just focused on chasing Real Men like Muniandy........................................

BUT... I digress, as always. I currently await the arrival of Preeta's debut novel Evening Is The Whole Day, once I get my skinny fingers on it, I think I might find myself back at Main Convent Ipoh in 1988. Probably sitting by the volleyball court sharing guava and assam with Preeta while she tells one of her neverending, effervescent stories... Those stories, they really snare you senses like an invisible force; no, like a television set! I can spend hours and DAYS transfixed by her imagination, it explodes, splatters and is delightful to savour, and coincidentally, she once told me a story about cheese on pizza in her oven that could be described with those very same words :-D Just ANY topic would become a lively colourful tapestry of thoughts, words and images - her liking for rust-coloured stuff, my uncle Sai Choy, tree lizards in her mailbox, my horrific misinterpretation of her drawing of a pair of scissors, boredom-skewed insects crawling out of our brain during Ad Maths... and possibly best of all, the sillypoems that used to form as we talked, joked, laughed, connected. Here's one that's still in my head; it was formed after English class with Mrs Joseph (not me!), also called The Glider (no intended inference to grace or aviatory streamlinedness there... unfortunately). She used to get very disgruntled with any expression, verbal or written, that was beyond her rather puny grasp. So all our work for her had to be kept simple and uncreative. I can't remember if we named this poem:

I like to sew, I like to cook,
I like to read some story book.
I see vindow, I go and look;
I see a very handsome crook!
I swim vith him along the brook,
He come and eat vhat I cook.
Then Mr Joseph come and look,
And he catch us by the hook;
I vill howl like a rook,
"Aiyo-yo, my handsome crook,
I think ve made a big mistook!"

If Preeta happens by this blog anytime, I vill ask her to plees to be correcting any mistooks in der poem, vokeii... :-D

Oh, and the weird blog title? Refers to her infamous Bahasa Malaysia essay on making ondeh-ondeh, those grated-coconut-flecked green glutinous balls containing palm sugar (gula melaka). Preeta's recipe calls for the use of a *syringe* to inject the filling into the balls; yea from memory of BM teacher (aiya, forgot her name) reading out her essay, the 'condemned' part is where you have to "guna picagari untuk menyuntik gula melaka ke dalam ondeh ondeh". I suppose for a regular school teacher, its preposterous for a 13-year-old girl to get the recipe SO wrong. WHERE got people use picagari to make ondeh-ondeh?? It was a good laugh, for everyone including poor teacher eventually, despite her attempt to express extreme exasperation - for the lack of listening comprehension for Resipi Ondeh-ondeh. Can't blame us la cikgu, so many distractions; Muniandy was probably carrying flower pots past the classroom that time...

For the benefit of those who would like a REAL recipe and some photos for better effect, here is a good place to ogle at a variety of the original -- its *Orange* Ondeh-ondeh but looks as delicious as the Green, and does not require a syringe http://bakingmum.blogspot.com/2006/05/ondeh-ondeh.html, permission to use link kindly granted from blog owner -- thanks BakingMum :-D

So to complete my goingonandonandonoquy, here is a scanned article from Jun 08's TimeOut KL magazine:

I tell you all ah ... Preeta write very good one!! AKU GERENTI DIA PUNYA CERITA SEMUA BEST HABIS... !!

Friday - afternoon

2008-05-30T15:12:00.007+08:00

A typical Friday afternoon -- Its 3pm and everyone has had lunch. Actually today's not such a typical day since Charu is on school break; I don't have to go downstairs to the lobby at 12pm to wait for the bus to deliver her home from kindy. If I did, then the routine would include waiting for Saravanan the ching-chai bus driver to screech his little yellow van-bus up to the apartment entrance, six out of ten times failing to pull his handbrake as he leaps out and flaps his selipar-Jepun-clad feet around to open the door of the bus and carry out my precious child. And sometimes Ibrahim the 5-year-old boy from the 5th floor.

Oh well, today's atypical *also* because I made sin-namon buns... and why the name like that? Cos they're covered in sinful, milky, buttery icing glaze :-) Rohan loved them, but Charu was gooed out; she's not the greedy type. Tony's in Jakarta else I'd flick his Blackberry and snap some photos. Really need to get a digital camera lah. Or maybe one of those new camera-phones, but IF I do, it must have a pedometer, or play music, or monitor my pulse-rate on a long run... you know, some other useful functions bundled in. Else no point owning a fancypancy gadget that does just two things: take photos and let bugsome people reach me. Like that I'm-not-a-telemarketer telemarketer from Waltonsumthinginstitutey with the fake Western accent. Hey, if you are a stranger calling my PHONE, and trying to take my MONEY, you are a telemarketer, okay. I couldn't tell if she was trying to be British or American... veryvery distracting and confusing. I thought her name was Bernie till I asked her to spell it out: P-U-R-N-I. Ayyy... apalucakapaaaa???

Anyway I digress from the main topic here -- Friday afternoon!!! Charu just dropped off to sleep, and I am multi-tasking between my software project plan, resource management and blogging (the last one just to keep my brain busy, else it keeps reminding me about those sinful buns in the oven.. haiya see it did it again... reminded me...tsktsktskk..!).

Tony will be back from Jakarta tonight. Can't wait!! I can take charge of everything cos Efficient is my middle name (ya all this time you thought it was Roslyn), but whenever the Head of the Home isn't home, its always rather quiet and dull. The kids don't have their Kneebutton-controlled Robot-monster, and I don't have anyone's back to scratch. Of course, I could do Rohan and Charu they love it, but I'm done in 30 seconds! And when I ask for a reciprocal scratch, I get four EAGER chubbedee hands digging into my back and poking my backbone asking "Mummy, what's this BONE ah?? Like the one Pluto stole from the lion??"

Looks like I failed to stick to the topic of Friday afternoon here...

Friday - late morning

2008-05-30T10:38:00.002+08:00

A typical Friday morning -- Its 10.32am and I'm in the kids' room with Charu, quarantined from Rohan who's in the living room, being drowsied with his mid-morning milk in prep for nap-time. In about half an hour (hopefully my conference call will end by then.. yes am blogging while project action items toss back n forth between US and Malaysia, via the speakerphone) I must start lunch.

Lunch; probably chicken soup for the kids (thawed the bony chicken bits already), and fried rice for me and the maid. Quick and uncomplicated.

NEXT UP -- a typical Friday afternoon.

Have a Bla-aa-ack Berry Beret.. !

2008-05-16T17:30:00.014+08:00

The bad parody of that effervescent Prince song came to mind cos Tony's new company has provided him with a BlackBerry. Not the fruit but the device that makes you accessible 24/7 by boss, henchmen, mother-in-law, mistress, debtors and all and sundry... o wait the device that holds that honour is actually the mobile phone, isn't it. But no, this one is a mini-hand-held *computer*, endowing owners with additional crouching backbone, hidden fingers for typing email responses on an arthritis-inducing keyboard, sortof slowly moulding you into a replica of the bell-toller at Notre Dame... ok, okayyy I don't mean to diss the lovely device, here have a drool at the liquid silver pockewonder and you'll realize that my disdain is just jealousy in disguise :-D http://www.blackberry.com/ap/products/handhelds/blackberry8300/blackberry8300.shtml#

And digital-camera-deprived us of course must test its most important feature - the 2 megapixel camera. The obvious choice for subjects are of course our Two Mega Pixies, they very gleefully posed free of charge... here's the montage, we went crazy with the shutterbugging.. !!

Charu, pretty fairy girl

Gime gime GIME AIWAN GEEEMEE...

Charu attempting angrybangry face... and failing as miserably as a pretty fairy can

...aiyah... aiyah... gime...GIMMEE...

Charu cheeky mischievous pretty fairy goblin girl

Iff ai tekk the glass an bonk papa's hed he might GIME de ting...

Charu fading-into-background pretty dimpled fairy girl

... ai so cute you better GEEEEMEEEE....

Reclining kids

2008-04-03T15:28:00.007+08:00

Have you ever stood before the famous Reclining Buddha in Penang? Check it out here: http://www.malaysiasite.nl/buddhaeng.htm I find it an impressive salutation to Buddha's peaceful, karmic aura.

I also have my own little reclining buddhas, albeit far more miniature in size (for now). Now you may not agree to my comparing a world-famous religious icon with one's own children. Even more if you realise that the pose is actually one of Buddha's awaiting passage to nirvana. Hmmm... but just from comparing physical imagery more than anything else, the essence extracted from my fuzzy Saturday-morning thoughts and onto this piece of blaper (if thats what I can call a blog in lieu of paper :-D), is that these two cute and exhausting beings made up of Tony and me, are also an infinite, harmonious free-flowing source of peace, serenity and happiness.

.... Paradox?? Maybe when I'm out of fuzzybrain mode I can explain better. Till then... peace and love!! :-D

Dreamland...

2008-04-01T18:04:00.008+08:00

Photos of babies sleeping are usually multi-dimensional to me, they have amazing texture - like peanut-filled mua chi :-D... they emanate a warm fuzziness that makes me grit my teeth with cuteness and I can just about smell the aromatic, sweet breath...

Even more so if they are photos of my *own* child sleeping. I wonder how many more years it will be before I outgrow the urge to kiss my sleeping child's cheeks or steal a whiff of neck-nape. Or will I ever outgrow it? Well... I suppose given that *I* would not appreciate waking up to my own mom staring at 34-year-old me with a melty-pelty gaze, so .... I guess I had better get over it at some point. Buuut, I'm not gonna count the days lahh.

De Year 2008

2008-03-14T13:35:00.007+08:00

First, let me set up the visuals...

Whoaaaaa so its been a year, and I decided to haul my a** back here to reminisce about 2007's achievements, and plot out 2008's exploits. Well, from my visuals you might guess that I do not really have much control over either (achievements and exploits, thatis...).

As a matter of fact, I surprised myself and DID achieve quite a bit:

1) Rohan is now a feisty one-year-old with two tooth buds looming at the gummy horizon of his lower jaw.

2) Charu is a hyperactive four-year-old who loves swimming pools, Bananas In Pyjamas, prawn pasta and using our queen mattress as a trampoline.

3) Kept my job.

4) I had enough dare in me to create a Resolution that goes like this: Run AT LEAST 2 10km races in 2008.

4) What else ah?

I suppose being Alive is a good thing too. Seriously.

So, next is to work on 2008. Well, the recent elections were a Big Bang thing. Now the whole Parliament looks like First Day on Campus where you just don't know who that guy/girl is, but they bleddy well better know what we want out of this class!!

I have hopes. Fears too, but I think I'll focus on my hopes, and my expectations of myself for this year. I guess having a family helps keep this clear. Work hard to stay relevant, but work on being a good mother -- dish out tasty and healthy food, age-appropriate child-raising techniques, keep fridge clean, throw out all broken toys, read Kama Sutra... aaaaaa you ARE paying attention! :-D

Our Little Man

2007-04-04T13:02:00.000+08:00

Rohan David Joseph, born on 2nd February, 2007.

Incidentally, I return to work tomorrow, after 60 days' maternity leave. Of course I do not look forward to leaving this cute little bub at home while I lug my pump to work and spend every 2.5 hours in my office shower cubicle, expressing milk fervently to keep up with the demands of his voracious appetite. To encourage let-down, I have to imagine his cute cheeks chugging at me, that amazingly loud piercing cry of hunger and the indescribably lovely scent of sweaty baby-babboooooo...

Our Little Lady

2007-04-04T12:50:00.000+08:00

Melina Charu Joseph, born on 25th February, 2004.

She is opinionated, chatty, bossy, helpful, observant, sensitive, clingy-when-tired, energetic and mostly kind to her baby brother. Given that I think those are all descriptive of a healthy and balanced child (though my mother would probably disagree on 'bossy' and 'opinionated'... because those were what made it difficult to raise *me* as a child) I think that Tony and I fared pretty decently these first 3 years. I expect us to have a long loooong more way to go, but its a good start. Can you tell that I'm encouraging myself along here? :-P

Prequel

2007-04-04T10:41:00.000+08:00

So let me

re-introduce us as a family, before I attempt to make regular posts a habit.

We were bestowed with the lovely Charu less than a year after we got married on 3rd May, 2003. When she was 2 years old, we decided to add to the family tree, so ... before I wax on about our family in future posts, here are photos of:

a) Papa with Charu in the pool of Renaissance Hotel KL
b) Charu and me at Aquaria, her great Fishy adventure (can you tell that I am quite the 8-month preggers mumm ... ? If you think I look great, its cos I picked the most flattering photo of a few hundred awful ones ... heheh!)

Grumness Part II

2007-04-04T10:24:00.000+08:00

I thought I had better get re-acquainted with my blogspot before I forget my login, password, name address and phone number with my mommybrain. So what better way than to introduce the newest member of our family, Rohan. That's Charu saying "ta-daaa, here's my baby brother!", right beside the cotton balls and baby duvet crumpled untidily into the cot corner. Cuteness and intelligence grow on these babies, as is evident from Charu's cheeky face.

Rohan is on his way there. He has been competitive right from conception, racing to match Charu's impressive birthweight of 4.15kg. Alas, he was stopped short at 3.8kg by the planned C-section. Now he seems to try for most of Charu's early milestones -- chattering sociably at interesting faces (the kind that grin and praise him nonstop at close-range), cooing excitedly at the globe sticker on our fridge (papa must have somehow worked his GIS expertise into their DNA), and consuming copious amounts of milk throughout the day.

Two Weeks

2006-01-15T22:37:00.000+08:00

Wooooh. You just don't realise what you have (and take for granted every day) .... until he goes away on a two week trip to the US.

I miss him, and think of him every hour! So much. Every time his GTalk or YM icon lights up, it does the same to my life. How corny can it get. Now do I sound like some lovesick, achey-breakey-heart whiner or what? Yes I do ... darn!

:-P

Unsteady (not Rock Steady... !)

2005-11-29T00:33:00.000+08:00

There is a certain unsteadiness in the realization that you helped create something so ominously cute and precious that the world gawks and coos grumly at. And so it goes unsteady also describes your life after this chubb of cuteness grows in your arms as you feed it, depends on you, cries for you, loves you, searches for your belly button in public, jumps on your stomach with glee after banana leaf lunch, hugs you and calls you "mummee" at the end of the day ... sigh. This unsteadiness...? It changes your life.