Raqs and Goth

I love the point when raqs sharqi meets goth (at about 3.20 on left counter).

http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi3486319129/

(p.s. may take some time to load, but it's worth the wait.)

Paul Ropp and Bali in June

Most people go to Bali for the sun, sand and sea.

Others go for yoga and/or belly dance retreats.

Yet others go for the spa treatments.

I used to go for some of the same reasons.

These days, I only head to Bali for the Paul Ropp warehouse sale.

Maybe it is a totally off-beat reason, but it works for me:)

The Grand Dame at 80

Is she really 80 this year?
She is. And she celebrates in style with students, teachers and staff, past and present.

I almost did not go to the party. I am glad I did.

For I would have missed it all :
- reacquainting with the old friends and teachers,
- taking a nostalgic walk down memory lane as the students acted out their short play of the old school in the old days by the sea,
- reawakening the sense of pride for having come from a very special school that produced many special people.

p.s. I did not even bother to snap at the old broad scrutinising my face from across the table.

The mirror

The mirror started life with me flawless, gleaming, beautiful. I loved what looked back at me - smiles, hope, confidence.

One day, a crack appeared at a corner with no warning, with no reason. By the time I noticed it, it was spreading in every directions like an intricate spider web being spun, certainly and unstoppably.

In time, I saw a crackly me whenever I looked in the mirror. I lived with the cracks, lived under the illusion that cracks are merely annoying.

Until one day, many years later, I realised I was living under the delusion that the mirror could only contain a finite amount of cracks. By now, the mirror was positively splintering and I could no longer recognise myself in the mirror.

And I knew the day had finally come to do what I should have done a long time ago. With a heavy heart, and with as much care as I could to not cause further damage, I removed the mirror from my life.

Maybe I would live without a mirror for a very long time, maybe even for the rest of my life. Or maybe, one day, I would find a another mirror I liked enough to bring home with me.

Whatever the maybe's, I only knew that day that I could not go on looking at myself as a hopelessly shattered version of me...

p.s. In time, I did find a used mirror that is flawless. And I enjoy seeing what looks back at me once again.

What brand what oil?

The man said he needed Rooster brand peanut oil at the store.

I stared at the huge array of 2-litre size cooking oils. Local and foreign. No Rooster brand peanut oil.

But this one label came close. I stared at it again. And again. In disbelief. I turned to ask the man if this was what he was looking for : Cock brand pure groundnut oil.

Yes. That's the one. Why didn't he say so; it's Cock brand pure groundnut oil. Not Rooster brand peanut oil.

He muttered something about trying to be a little more polite with words in public. Oh Bah.

Somebody loves his product enough to name it we should respect it enough not to change it...

The "duh?" phone call

What did she call me for?

She is a work colleague from another lifetime ago. And like most friendships forged in workplaces, there is a hiatus in contact when we made our exodus and got caught up in our new and usually broadened horizons.

Over the last decade, I've seen her a handful of times. Always when one of the former colleagues blew into town. It seemed to be the only times we'd have a reason to get together.

So when she called out of the blue, I was completely taken aback, and steeled myself for some really bad news (sorry, I am such a pessimist).

She: How are you?
Me: Very well. And how are you?
She: Okay. What are you doing now?
Me: Now? As in this very minute?
She: Yes.
Me (duh?): Talking to you.
She: Are you still bellydancing?
Me: Yes.
She: Oh. You enjoy it?
Me (duh?): Yes.

The stop-go conversation went on for a very painfully long ten minutes. At the end of which I said I'd sms her places and teachers to go to if she's thinking of belly dance. I'd even go with her to get her started if it would help.

I sent the belly dance information last night. It was tedious tapping out the message on the phone keypad, but she is completely computer and net illiterate.

This morning I got her sms reply, "OK. Thanks."

(Duh??)

What did she really call me for?

Paris and an erotic love song

I settled in for the night and was watching Bohemian Rhapsody.

Surprisingly, it is more than just another documentary on history, culture or travel. It is a well researched and coherently edited life story of Paris narrated by a very telegenic Sandrine Voillet in an engaging and intelligent fashion.

And, when I least expected it, I heard the long forgotten yet immediately familiar opening bars of the most beautiful duet ever composed by a man for his muse:



By then, I actually rate the prgramme as intellectual even:)

My face

I refer to her as the old broad. She is a schoolmate whom I have not seen or spoken to for years.

The last time we saw each other was 5 years ago at an old schoolgirls' meetup . Right before the big evening she apparently said to other schoolmates that she'd heard I had my entire face botoxed and looked just awful.

I am neither sensitive nor secretive about using botox. I also use injectable hyaluronic acid to reduce naso-labial and marionette lines on my face. I presume she did not mention this because she didn't know there was such a product.

Five years ago on that big social night, several of my old schoolmates scrutinized my face up close and personal. It did not bother me that some questions were outright dumb or downright intrusive; I detected curiosity, not malice.

Later this month, I shall be at another social function where not only will the old broad also be there - she and I will be seated at the same table.

In the intervening 5 years, I have had blepharoplasty done. I recently contemplated a mid lower face lift but haven't gotten around to it yet.

I wonder how much more awful she would say I look now...

Customer Service Hotline

I delay paying up my magazine subscription renewal until I receive the really ominous sounding reminders. You know - the ones that threaten no-more-delivery after blah and blah date unless you renew NOW.

The thing is, the magazine provides no incentive for early renewal.

Anyway, I recently renewed a mag subscription. Three weeks later, I got another of their reminders to pay up. Or else. A bank balance transaction check showed the cheque not yet presented.

I called the customer service hotline. Some young thing answered with the standard time-of-day greeting, identified the company, gave her name and asked how she might help.

me: Hi, I sent in my cheque for magazine renewal 3 weeks ago and I wonder if my cheque was received.

she: Sorry, but all payments are sent to Hong Kong for processing before being sent back to Singapore to bank in.

me: Is there any way to find out if my cheque is received.

she: No, I am sorry.

me: How long does it take to be processed in Hong Kong?

she: Six to ten weeks.

me: Is there any way for you to see if my magazine delivery will be interrupted?

she: Sorry, I wouldn't know.

me (starting to feel hot under the collar): Ok, goodbye!

she: Is there anything else I may help you with.

me: No, goodbye!

she: Thank you for calling (blah and blah company). Please don't hesitate to call again should you need further help. Have a good day!

me: G-O-O-D-B-Y-E ! !

Oh wah!! A helpful airhead, that one!

Yesterday once more

I first knew of the 80th anniversary dinner of my alma mater on a friend's Facebook.

I dismissed any thought of going because this close to the date, I thought it too bothersome to organise getting a table.

Then the girlfriend called from abroad. She has gotten wind of the special event, and she knows there are two vacancies left at the table of our schoolmates.

She would like to go to the dinner for two reasons:
(a) She was going to be in town for work, and
(b) It would be a great time to see our teachers again.

She is hesitant about going for one reason: there will be those at the table that she really doesn't care to see, or worse, to talk to, even after all these years.

When she named the women at the table, I found to my dread and horror that they are the same people I don't want to play nice with either.

But that is not a good reason to pass up a chance to catch up with so many other people in one place.

So, screw the long ago mostly forgotten silly reasons why there are people I don't want to see. I know it's their fault *haha*

It's going to be a great evening for the girlfriend and me.

Just like before, it's yesterday once more...

I wish I could be in California

The friends will be in California, Nevada and Oregon.

I had been searched my memory and researching online to come up with a manageable list of must-see and must-do recommendations.

Las Vegas, Nevada is straightforward enough. I have no local knowledge of Oregon.

But California...

I had to pare down the list I'd love for them to cover. I made strong recommendations for little eateries in the beach towns that they will drive through on the scenic PCH 1 from Monterey to Santa Barbara.

I cannot even begin to put into words the breath-taking beauty of Santa Barbara - its perfect Mediterranean climate amd its Spanish and Mission architecture - sandwiched between the sea and the hills of Santa Inez. She is, without doubt, the undisputed American Riveria.

California - I wish I lived there still.

I wish I were travelling with the friends as they cover those tracks of roads and highways that I remember with so many beautiful and sentimental thoughts.

I hope they will love the place as much as I. I know they will...

Japan - modern and traditional

There is the very hip and cosmopolitan side to Japan -
and the centuries-old traditional side.
And somehow, she navigates through this huge cultural divide with confidence and pride.

I find that as admirable as it is incomprehensible...

April

was the month
- I made my first ever trip to Japan.

I find its people fascinating, totally different from my expectations which I admit are built on Hollywood's take of the land and its people.

Where I expected the Japanese to be intense, either in a serious or cartoon-y way, I quickly realised how gracious and civic-minded they are. Everyone I approached for help would go out of his/her way to steer me back on course and see me off with the warmest smile.

Where I expected only the extremes of the weary formally attired salarymen vs the fun-loving colourful kawaii boys and girls, I found a spectrum of very tasteful styles.

I resisted going to Japan because I was so sure the country and its people are, simply, too foreign. I have been so ignorant and wrong.

It is a country where its people will show you that you - the foreign tourist - have a place in their ever gracious land.