We have been wanting a lot of perfections. We have been avoiding too many distractions. But sometimes all we need is just…
Some plain Meehoon Goreng and…
… a little challenge.
Just enough to fill us and feel alive.
Archive for the ‘Write On’ Category
Simply
Posted in Write On on November 23, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Bra Vo
Posted in Write On, tagged Bra on November 10, 2009| 1 Comment »
There’s always something new to learn everyday. And today I learned about how to wash bras safely. Mind me, peeps, for talking about something (you might find) private. I am actually surprised to see that my blog is a pretty popular finding for those who Google words like tetek and kemban. It must have been from my earlier post on penyangkut tetek – the term for bra that KaCher and I used when we were kids.
And today, I did not just learn something new about bras, but also about my hardworking helper, Esmeralda Coloma. I had always wondered why she kept my bra hooks done when storing them in the drawers. I just realized that she actually keeps the hooks done even before putting them in the wash. And, of course, that keeps other laundry pieces safe from being ‘hooked’ by the bra hooks. Duh, Enida!
While it may not sound like a smart discovery on my part, I do think of Emy as a very thoughtful person. I mean, really… how many of our helpers really do care about our clothes down to that little bit? Unless of course you are lucky to have good thoughtful kindhearted helpers like Bibik, Emy and Joy like I am (and have been).
I am also thankful and proud of myself that I am a person capable of learning new things pridelessly. Brava Enida, Brava!
A little lesson in Italian in case you’re wondering why I am using Brava and not the common Bravo.
Una piccola lezione in Italiano per noi:
Bravo = for male (singular)
Bravi = for male (plural)
Brava = for female (singular)
Brave = for female (plural) – pronounced as [bra-vei]
Bra = for females only (optional for males with tetek)
Do It, Men!
Posted in Sense, Write On, tagged Men, Money on November 4, 2009| 6 Comments »
To men out there who are man enough to read this, excuse my frankness. When it comes to money, there are two kinds you fall into. One: those who do have money and arrogantly flaunt it. Two: those who do not have money and shamelessly flaunt it. And both kinds are the pathetic kinds. The rest of you men… you don’t fall into any kind. And you are safe from my frankness – for now.
I mean, really! We all know that you can’t be having money all the time. When you do, and lots of it, that’s great. Good for you! But do you really have to unnecessarily show it, blogging about it, posting a scanned copy of receipts of your purchase as though the whole world has to know that your feet alone are wrapped in a pair of RM2557.65 worth shoes. Do you?
But man! That is still not as bad as announcing it to the world that you are broke. So broke that you could almost sell the Fung Keong canvas shoes your kindhearted Aunty Anne George bought you after your STP exam. And that is only so that you could buy a pack of Gardenia
corn bun? Eeesssyyy walang hiya! That, I am so lah not sorry at all to say, patheticity at its worst! And then you’re complaining your girlfriend left you for a bloke who works at Burger King and drives a secondhand Citroen he paid RM14k for in cash!
Much of the pain is… indeed, self-chosen. But as painful as being broke can be, have some pride, will ya?
Still, a respectable man is not one who has the most or the least money. He is the one who respects his money and treats it like it is his secret lover. Go figure!
Retro Speck
Posted in Write On, tagged Facebook on November 2, 2009| 4 Comments »
I don’t usually write about strangers. In fact, this entry isn’t about a stranger. I would like to dedicate this post to Irwan, my newly accepted ‘friend’ on Facebook. No, I don’t know him yet. He did not introduce himself in his Friend’s Request to me. And from this profile picture of himself, I swear I have never had a friend this retro. I pray to God hope this is just his ‘Untuk Hiasan Sahaja‘ kind of photo.
I don’t, let me assure you, usually accept any Friend’s Request from someone who does not have any mutual friend with me. I even wrote a note to a few people, asking if I had met them before, or if we had been introduced to each other before. True to the meaning of a friend, a stranger remains a stranger, ya know.
But in this case, because Irwan is a friend of a very very good friend of mine… I thought, Irwan would not and should not turn out to be DJ Dave or any Hi-One I would not really want to know. I also figured out using my own logic, that for Irwan to put such a hideous mysterious photo on his Facebook profile, he must be one of the two: i. He is extremely good-looking, ii. He is extremely mysterious. And both are good. Hehehehehe. You are free to interpret my “Hehehehehe” in your own way. No mystery here.
Uh, did you know that DJ Dave’s other name is Irwan Shah?
Cope-n-Hope
Posted in Write On on October 21, 2009| 3 Comments »
At times I know I sound harsh. Most of the times, I don’t (know). Call it defense-mechanism, what-you-don’t-know-doesn’t-bother-you mechanism or whatever mechanisms have you. It doesn’t bother me what and how you label others. It doesn’t bother me what and how you label me. I am comfortable in my own brown skin (semi-D Chinese, half-hitched Indian, duplexed Malay skin). Yes, I am made up of more than just 100 percent of anything, everything. 1Malaysian. Proudly.
But behind the hard-boiled, hard-core harshness… I am just a child who has just lost her Mommy. I am just a Mommy who has just lost her Monchies’ grandma. And I am just a sailor who has just lost her pharos, her anchor and her true north. If I am a bit too harsh, too arrogant to be seen drop-dead crying the Oprah’s ugly cry, and if I chose to still be that drop-dead gorgeous WordPress blogger woman… gimme a break lah kan. Even a diva needs that Azean Irdawaty’s anak wayang moment.
I’m coping I’m hoping. And I’m hoping I’m coping. And I’m gone… acting tough.
Light, camera, action!
Postlude:
Ehhh! Chicheyyy pulawk kemeira koi ni tadi ateh lemaghi howk dekeik ngei telipoang te. Poh palih peluper nyer! Denggg!
Facing The Book
Posted in Write On, tagged Facebook on October 15, 2009| Leave a Comment »
For the first time after 8 days since Mom’s departure, I am facing the book again. The book I am writing. No, it has nothing to do with Facebook (no matter how much it is causing me grief at the moment, bah!)
Enida is gone grieving.
Returning
Posted in Write On, tagged Mom on October 15, 2009| 2 Comments »
I am still grieving. I am not going to deny it and I won’t apologize. Too many people say sorry when they don’t know what they are sorry for, and most say sorry for all the wrong reasons anyway.
As a matter of course, I am glad I am grieving. Thank you Qunie (and Be, and Sia Peng, and Karen, and Nina, and many others) for putting the fact in a sentence… that there is perfectly no harm to do just that, and for ‘sentencing’ me to grieving, taking as long as I see fit taking.
But then again… grieving has long been in the act of writing to me. So here I am. I have returned to do the grieving thing again. Thank you for greading.
Kenanga Without an End
Posted in Write On, tagged Mom on September 27, 2009| 3 Comments »
I do have a chapter to write. But at the moment, the very reason for writing the whole book is being written on my page of life. I am gone reading at a hospital ward called Kenanga. Shhhhh…
Heavenly Heavy
Posted in Write On, tagged Mom on September 24, 2009| 1 Comment »
I woke up yesterday morning with a heavy feeling. So heavy, that I went straight downstairs, washed my hands, lit a candle for my Mom, grabbed whatever leftovers I could grab for Kitreena’s lunchbox and pretended that it was going to be another great day. It was for sure a great day for Kitreena – Daddy walked her to school, cool! Of course she went on her two wheels, helmet on and all, looking more and more like a sophomore than a lil kindy, that angel babygirl of mine.
Just when I thought what heaved me was the feelings of me mommy-ing me Monchies who are growing as fast as they could say “Bye Mom!” I was suddenly reminded of the strange dreams I had the night before. Of my Mommy! The dreams that kept taking me back to the tiny house by which I remember my Mom the most. So tiny was the house that we always had to run into each other like little kittens in a roofed-box! We could not run, nor could we hide from one another in that ‘745-U’ little box. (I don’t suppose this explains my peculiar habit of hiding in a gobok everytime I run away from stressful confrontations, does it? Isyyy!)
It wasn’t until I started Skyping with KaCher that the onerousness became nothing but the opposite of dream. It was all real and touchable. That my Mom is… departing. And it is now and here that I started wishing that the whole world were as tiny as that little roofed-box where Mom raised me to be nothing less than her little angel.
I am not hiding. I am so far from everything and everyone… that if I hide, nobody comes looking for me. So I am now running home to Mom before she spreads her wings.
Spread your wings and fly
No kiss and no goodbye
In the thoughts that never die
Your name is a song of cry.
~ Enida
April 1997
Bangi Lama
Loaving You
Posted in Write On, tagged Anniversary, Cooking on September 19, 2009| 1 Comment »
Be baked these two loaves of Banana Bread this morning to use up those frozen ancient bananas we’ve had since, uh… since the last Pharaoh was mummified. Yes, that old! And since there was enough bananas for two loaves, Be made one for Hari Raya and one for today, our 111th monthly anniversary. Mmm… I might not have said much about him, about us and about those other sweet things we have in our relationship… but I love it when he goes bananas on me like this with his baking skills!
Other than that, we’re taking it easy today. Kitreena is still coughing and is still on anti-biotics until Tuesday. Be too has started coughing his nasty chesty cough since yesterday. So the morning and mid-day was spent watching An Unfinished Life, a feel-good movie all shot on a ranch in Alberta and British Columbia, around Ashcroft, Kamloops, Burdett and Medicine Hat. Loved the ranch, loved the trees, loved the bear, loved Robert Redford, loved Jennifer Lopez and loved Morgan Freeman.
And right now, while writing this, I am watching Juno. Yeah, yeah… totally long overdue but I am glad we are watching it now. Today. Totally loved what the Dad said to Juno: “Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.” I don’t mind it being the tagline for our 111th monthly anniversary, all right!
And while doing dishes this evening, I noticed how I have learned to put the gloves on. It is almost automatic now that my hands would reach for them gloves before touching anything in the sink. For the truth is, I have come to appreciate my only pair of hands and have begun to pamper them as much as I possibly can. The diamond ring and the wedding band… they probably last longer than my hands. So the rings can stay on my fingers when I do dishes. Or laundry. Or when I shower. Or when I do anything. Or nothing. They stay. Just like I stay banded to The Banana Bread man.
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