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Archive for June, 2010

Monchitaliano Eh Mambo!

Me Monchies were not overly excited today to have a repeat lunch of the Filini con Tuna leftover I made for supper the other day. But they know who the boss is in this Kremlin Nomer Divyet. Any objection shown to Queen Mother of this Kingdom of Totalitarianism would cause them severe hunger in exile! Long live Queen Mother Enidabeth!

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After saying grace, I let them eat with their sour face on. In this Kingdom of Totalitarianism, no food ever goes to waste. I choose what me Monchies eat, and when they eat. They choose how much they need. End of story, no questions asked. So as you could probably imagine, it was very quiet around the dining table today. And peace was mine to enjoy. For once, there I was savoring every little bit of peacefulness, listening to my own thoughts. Until there was a buzzing sound of a fly flying by.

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(Almost) to my shock, the fly sent Edrick screaming like the world was coming to its armageddon! Goodness gracious me! For flybying’s sake, it’s just a FLY, boy! As you could now picture it, it was my peacefulness that came to its armageddon, of course.

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You see, this summer Edrick has developed entomophobia (fear of insects) that is now driving me, not just the bugs, up the wall! It is driving Kitreena nuts too as Edrick is so scared of anything that buzzes, creeps and flies… he does not want to be left alone. And every little noise that sounds like a buzz or a shake would shake my son and send him running to me or his sister like a 7-on-Richter scale earthquake would!

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I got the feeling that finishing lunch today was going to be as hard as sailing a boat on tarmacadam. So I put this CD on for the whole Pokrovsky neighborhood to hear, and was honestly hoping to shoo all the summer flies away! Though it did shake the whole house a bit, Edrick managed to clean up his Filini con Tuna lunch deafened distracted.

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The Latin music was so good, I must admit, that it didn’t just shake my house and me Monchies. It shook my bum too!

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Me Monchies and I spent some good half an hour after lunch mambo-ing and lambada-ing away shaking the Filini Con Tuna calories off in my kitchen and had so much fun doing it, we must’ve debugged the whole Pokrovsky neighborhood!

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Over and Out

Love has been a game played upon me and around me. If you think I am not aware of it, you obviously have taken me for a fool. Just like all the fools you’ve taken… for a price, for a ride or for free. You have said love to me and everybody else as though you knew what it meant.

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Your game is over. And so is the party. It is time to put on the red shoes and dance the blues. But I am waltzing it far away from you… where love is the music, not the lyrics. It’s over and I’m out.

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Ketagih

 

Apa silapku
hingga kau menyalahkan.

Apa hakmu
hingga kau membatilkan.

Kesetiaan ini
bagimu hanya duri.

Kesihatan yang kau ubat dengan sakit
adalah kewarasan yang gila.

Pilihlah yang halal
selamat jalan atau selamat tinggal.

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*Enida
September 24, 1997
Bangi Lama

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In-Enida Series: Dislike

Yes I do realize it. That you know so much about me and yet you don’t. So I came up with this series of little things about me, and I start with my morning dislikes. Well, I know it sounds negative. But the thing about me is, I don’t have many things that I don’t like. In other words, I like so many things that I will need 29 lifetimes before I would run out of things to write about what I like. I like you reading this, that’s for sure.

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So okay… the thing that I dislike most in the morning, I must lazily admit, is to make the bed. I know it’s not much. And I know it doesn’t take long. (Save it, will you? I have heard it all before.) But just like everything else that you like or dislike. You can go around it giving thousands of excuses and reasons. At the end of the day (or in my case, morning), no matter how much I groan, growl and grumble doing it because I can’t stand an unmade bed, I just don’t like making the bed!

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Looking at the painting I call ‘My Sensuousness’
between my legs from my bed.

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Postlude:

If you had read me carefully, you would not have come to the assumption that Enida’s bed was always unmade. Even if your reading skill was average, you would have seen that I actually said, “I can’t stand an unmade bed…” and that I groan, growl and grumble everytime  I make my bed. But I still do it. Ishhhh! Mana kau letak kau punya mata? Jatu dalam pirigi mata air kah?

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Postscript:

I love you. (Huh? Love? You? Ishhhh! It’s just a book title.)

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Did I tell you that our journey back to Moscow this time was one of the smoothest journeys we’ve had? If I haven’t, I am telling you now then.  We had a 260-minute transit in Singapore in the wee hours of June 17th. At SilverKris Lounge, we were taking our own sweet sleepy time eating some late supper when Edrick got his second wind and started singing the “This Old Man” song.

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Edrick: “…with a knickknack paddywhack give a dog a bone, this old man came rolling home.”

Mommy: Good singing Edrick! *she says this without fail when her Monchies sing*

Edrick: Mommy, why did the old man come rolling to his home?

Mommy: Because his house is down the hill.

Edrick: But why didn’t he walk?

Mommy: Because he’s old.

Edrick: Oh yeah, rolling down the hill is faster than walking.

Mommy: That’s right.

Edrick: Is his dog old too?

Mommy: I’m not sure Monch.

Edrick: If it’s old, the old man shouldn’t give it a bone. Too hard for its teeth.

Mommy: Okay now, eat your chicken wings old man!

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Sing To Me, Baby!

Do you sing your kids cradlesongs, or lullabies as they’re more commonly known? Well, I do. Not as often as I yell, “Bedddd time! Tidorrrrrrr!”, turn the lights off, force me Monchies to turn themselves off, close their bedroom door and run to close mine for my sanity. But I do sing them cradlesongs. Here’s the playlist of the usual:

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  • Rock-A-Bye-Baby
  • My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean
  • Suriram
  • Greensleeves
  • Hujan Panas
  • Mama Hao
  • Sayang Di Sayang
  • Eagle’s Whistle

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Edrick would usually be ‘gone’ by the middle of the first song. Boy! Is he ever a good sleeper! Kitreena, on the other hand would still be awake on the second repeat of the whole playlist! There are nights when she questions why the cradle is put on the tree-top, why a sweet girl like Suriram can’t be kissed, what exactly did Greensleeves do that broke Sir Lancelot’s heart, and her question-list can be longer than my lullaby playlist if I don’t pretend to fall asleep singing!

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But hey, I shouldn’t be complaining. These monchies are the only remaining audience I have after years of my La Femme de Jogette era, and a decade of hiatus. Haiiiyaaa lagi mao bising meh? Go sing ‘Mama Hao’ loh!

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Stages

Stages

As every flower fades and as all youth
Departs, so life at every stage,
So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,
Blooms in its day and may not last forever.
Since life may summon us at every age
Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,
Be ready bravely and without remorse
To find new light that old ties cannot give.
In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.

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Serenely let us move to distant places
And let no sentiments of home detain us.
The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us
But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.
If we accept a home of our own making,
Familiar habit makes for indolence.
We must prepare for parting and leave-taking
Or else remain the slaves of permanence.

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Even the hour of our death may send
Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,
And life may summon us to newer races.
So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.

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by Hermann Hesse

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Thanks to my darling Angel for walking with me to this poem.

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Here I Come

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“If I can’t come to happiness, I’ll come up with it.”

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~Enida
June 25, 2010
Pokrovsky Hills Boulevard
Doma Nomer Divyet

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The Password

I won’t promise you a straight yes, but you can always ask. Nicely, please. 🙂

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He tried to balance on the edge of the trampoline and lost it, instantly hitting the ground, landing on his side with his left shoulder taking most of his upper body weight. He came home crying upset with himself more than anything else, as he knew it was a self-chosen pain. His teary, “I wasn’t supposed to stand on the edddggge, Mommm! I’m sorry Mommm!” was enough a proof that his lesson was learned. I said nothing when I pulled him into my arms.

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After a long nap and a rice-porridge supper…

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Edrick: Mom, I don’t know what happened to my balance. I just lost it.

Mommy: *smiles her mischievous smile plotting a twist* Oh do you remember where you lost your balance?

Edrick: Yeah, on the trampoline, Mom. I lost it there.

Mommy: Do you remember what it looks like?

Edrick: You mean my balance?

Mommy: Yeah, your balance. Do you remember what your balance looks like?

Edrick: No, I don’t renember.

Mommy: Does it have any color?

Edrick: You mean my balance?

Mommy: Yeah, does your balance have any color or shape?

Edrick: *looks very puzzled* I don’t think so.

Mommy: Then, how are you going to find it again?

Edrick: You mean my balance?

Mommy: Yes, your balance that you lost today.

Edrick: Don’t worry Mom, I’ll look for it tomorrow near the trampoline.

Mommy: Kah kah kah kah kah kah kah kah kah kah! *loses her balance and falls in love again with her Little Man*

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I have learned that falling is not always a bad thing. Losing one’s balance, too, can be an everyday event. As long as I remember to get up and go at it again. I am blessed for all the hurt I endure today. I’m already on my way to find that balance I have just lost. And I am not going to wait until tomorrow.

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My June

Dear June,
I must admit, the moment I finished reading the comment you left on my entry… I simply burst into tears. If you asked me what it was about, I wouldn’t know the answer. I could almost feel your hands reaching out to me offering the warmest embrace a woman can ever offer to another who is in pain. I felt the warmth. You are no stranger to me.

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Over the last two years, I have learned about what had been bothering you and I could relate so well. When you wrote about the post-partum depression, and how you took some medication… I actually kicked myself really hard for not even thinking that I could have done the same! I had it bad. I had it really bad, I tell you. Intimacy, after the kids were born, was like forcing me to eat dog poop wrapped in hot dog buns!

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It is a whole different story now, if it is any consolation. But I have been too hurt to start telling it in my entries. I am dying to tell everything actually. But like I said to my husband, Karl, I would have to divorce him first to make the whole story real and believable. Because people would be puzzled as to how I put up with this ‘pain inflicted upon me’ when I am still with the man who is supposed to have chewed my heart up and spitted it out.

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It is a long story, but basically my heart just hasn’t healed. The affair is over. In fact, that is ancient history if I believe everything he tells me. But when he brought a prostitute into this Moscow home less than two weeks of us being apart and not long before the kids and I joined him here… I lost it! And even that event is a 14-month old story now. I naturally felt very betrayed when I first found out about it – on my 4th day in Moscow. If he had logged out of his email account properly, I would not have discovered the emails between him and Yonna Kim, the Korean-Russian hooker.

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And then the truth started to reveal itself, that even after Bali – where we spent 8 days talking, where he spent 8 days promising me the whole world all over again – he lied. I let him go to the other woman to break it up. But they had to ‘make love’ to say goodbye. Yeah right. Only when I pushed him to tell the truth, post-prostitute revelation, did he admit that him and the other woman did have sex (which he denied with his life when he first came back to me!)

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On April 23rd last year, my 4th day in Russia… we talked and made up again. I gave it a year. With the condition he had to seek professional help with his addiction issues. We talked again a few times after. He said he knew what to do to ‘avoid temptations’. And after a while, things felt like normal again. But the holes in my heart were just too big, too deep, and too many, June. My trust did not return. I have shifted from not feeling to not thinking, not thinking to not doubting, and not doubting to not caring. I don’t care whether or not he is faithful to me. Not anymore. I wouldn’t know if he would stop at any paid-service centers on his way home from work. I don’t know and I don’t care if he has.

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Until recently. And that was when I went to see my psychiatrist again in KL – the one I went to in August 2008 when Karl first dropped the bomb on me. I was so lost then, in 2008, when he was going to leave me and the kids. My mother was in coma, the kids were not well, and I just lost my full-time job. I thought I was going crazy. But talking to a professional really helped me put my life into perspectives. So when I was in KL a few weeks ago, I went to see Dr. Gonzaga again. I wasn’t really sure why I did, at first. I was just losing my sense of directions with my marriage.

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After updating the shrink with all that followed after 2008, his first question was:

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“Enida, have you ever looked at your relationship from the health point of view?”

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I cried! I simply broke down there and then. How could I not care? I don’t have another body or two to spare if this one rots away with diseases ‘inflicted upon me’! I got scared, June. I got really scared. Though I do keep the routine check-up done every year. I had not had any blood test or STD scans since I shared my husband with Yonna Kim! Considering she was the last, that is! That very question Dr. Gonzaga asked me was the wake-up call I didn’t know I was waiting for. And I suddenly realized that I had not been treating myself fairly.

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My decision to stay with my husband was all nice and romantic, but if it was the right decision… why was I not happy? And then I learned that over the one year period that I gave us to work things out… I had moved on because life went on. Kids had to go to school, I had to pack their lunchboxes, walk them to their class and help them with homework. In the meantime, the house needed a keeper and everything else kinda fell into its place because life had to go on. I was sucked into it as a flow-goer.

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When the days were good, they were diamonds. When they were bad, they were stones. I was left with the rocky patches here and there to believe that what I did was good for the kids and for the family. I never questioned what was in it for me. Trust was gone – check. Doubt was gone – check check. Proof was not looked for – check check check. All have been fine and dandy. Although I wasn’t truly happy, at least I was not miserable for most of the time. And I thought that was okay.

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It has now been a week since I came back to Moscow from a month break in Malaysia with Edrick. Last Saturday was our 10th Wedding Anniversary, (we have been together for 12 years, though). He took me to the fanciest hotel and we went on a cruise to follow the Moskva River. It was all nice until I decided to talk about our marriage and what had been bothering me. And guess what? He got really angry with my psychiatrist for scaring me! And then he went on to blame my gynae for suggesting thorough blood test (including HIV and STD scans) that further scared me! He really believed what he did imposed no risk to him and me! Otherwise, he said, he would not have done it.

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My god! I remember looking at his angry face and thinking… how much more absurd could he possibly be? No wonder he did what he did! He thought the rubbers could save the world from everything! He thought he was absolutely protected because he practiced safe sex protectedly. Thanks to condom! Prostitutes? Ooooh bad girls, bad girls. But hey… here’s the condom to make it all good! “Here it comes to save the day,” eh? I just could not believe my ears.

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I didn’t mean to taint our anniversary with bad news. But bad news is bad news no matter how or how long you delay breaking it. And bad news is: I don’t have the heart to move on with this so-called ideal life with him anymore. Affair is over – check. Hooker story revealed, and forgiven – check check. Routine resumed – check check check. Everything is fine and dandy? I am afraid not. And there’s no better time than any other time. I had to tell him. But he got so caught up on me dropping him the bomb of this bad news on our anniversary! He thought it was me being vindictive. Goodness!

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The next day, he asked me to fight for our marriage, look at the pictures of us this last year as a happy family, seek for professional help to regain faith in our relationship and whatever it takes to ‘come back’. As a matter of proving his willingness to work things out, he has made an appointment with a marriage counselor (happening this coming Friday evening) for us to start discussions.

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The truth is… I am tired. I have nothing more to say. And I am not into it anymore. I don’t even have sympathy, if you asked me. I am all sucked out of energy, faith, trust, passion and patience for this thing so overratedly called love. To the point that I just want to be left alone – to enjoy my children, to go back to the people whom I know would go through fire before they make me feel like ‘nothing’. I am dying to move on, but on a different path now. The path I have been on has proven to be unworkable. I don’t mind hard work, I don’t mind pain. But I have to trust. And trust in my husband is no longer there.

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So this is it, June.

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I don’t know what to do yet with the transition. At the moment, taking my best friend’s advice, I would just go through the motion of working things out. So he can’t say I didn’t try. Marriage counselor? Okay. Look at happy pictures? Okay. Do more things together? Ok. In the meantime, realistically, I am working on shifting back to Malaysia. Get the kids the proper papers to be there with me (both Kitreena and Edrick are Canadian citizens). I am planning to start my own business (I train service-industry people how to speak the London properly, by the way 🙂 – Business Communication Skills). So I should seriously tap the desperate Malaysian market before it runs dry. 🙂

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At the moment, I feel nothing but exhaustion. I was going to say I am sad. But I am done being sad. Angry, maybe. But I am done dealing with anger. It is now trickling out of me and I am releasing the energy into a new beginning. All for me. Whatever love is, it’s mine alone. And I, alone, am fine.

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Thank you for your warm offer to hear me out, June. I hope you didn’t regret it halfway into reading my unforgivingly long email. 🙂 I feel better now, Miss Stranger-No-More!

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Thank you.

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The night before Midsummer Day,
Enida on June 23rd.

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