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Let’s see how many yes’s you will have to the next 12 questions on how much you know about me… 

  1. Did you know that I am only 10 months younger than my elder sister, KaCher? We were born in the same year – she in February, and I in December. Yes, February and December of the same year. So we were cohorts, in the same class right from Grade 1 through Grade 11 (Primary 1 through Form 5, as we call our grades in Malaysia). We went to the same university, took the same course – though were not put in the same class throughout the 6 years, nor achieved the same class for our baccalaureate – we were colleagues, teaching at the same university for quite a few years.
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  3. Did you know that I have a serious OCD when it comes to HFM cleanliness? The only time will I go to bed without washing and cleaning my feet is if I have been wearing socks all day. And the only time will I go to bed without brushing my teeth is… uh, never! Hands? Mine will be washed everytime I see a sink! (That’s Enida, interrupted and exaggerated.)
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  5. Did you know that I am actually an introvert? Many would say I am a mix. While I can, and tremendously do enjoy being in front of 300-500 people, giving talks, doing training, talking about what I do best – which is PUBLIC SPEAKING – I shy away from almost everyone at times. A lot of time. I savor my private corner where I recharge, reload and regroup. And boy, I sure get cranky when I don’t get my ‘Enida Time’ – alone.
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  7. Did you know that I immensely love reading anything that is ‘properly’ written. I’m not talking about printed matters here. They have to be perfectly written before they make it to the press. I am talking about simpler things done properly. And properly is: when capital letters are in the right places, sentences are decently punctuated, only single exclamation and question marks, and only one or three dots are used at a time…………………, not 12 or 25, okay??????????!!!!!! Yeah, not like that. These little things are a sign of either the non-existence of knowledge or the absence of wisdom. I am sure you know the difference between the two conditions, don’t you? And I can easily tell by looking at how you write in your: 
    • letters, cards, postcards, or even flyers, etc.
    • email, blog, Facebook (wall, status, notes)
    • text messages
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  9. Did you know that the only chocolate I like is dark bitter chocolate, the only chocolate drink I would drink is chocolate malt (only Milo), and the only milk I enjoy is rice milk? (Coconut milk is not a drink, hello!) I grew up on Dumex, but later developed mild lactose-intolerance. At 26 of age, I had my very first cheese and fainted due to the smell, not the lactose.
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  11. To keep me hangin' onnn...Did  you  know  that I  wish someone would come up with a smart hanger or drawer (or something!) for us women to store our bras. Yes, brassiere, bandeaux or what KaCher and I used to call penyangkut tetek (boobs hangers). (That was before we had grown and developed those hanging things! Once we knew how challenging it was to ‘maintain’ them bouncing kittens, we started calling bras with respectful names.) Bras are not easily folded, if you notice. In fact, they shouldn’t be folded at all. And if you do fold them to save storage space, one of the cups will definitely be folded invertedly. (But of course this applies only to those with foam, or sponge cups. If you’re still wearing ones without any support – no wire, no stiff cups… you must be either in grade 6, have nothing hanging, or just had an implant as an excuse to go bouncing carelessly bralessly.
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  13. Did you know that not many people can tell my voice from my KaCher’s, my Lil Sis, Reen’s and my mom’s. It sometimes even takes my Dad a few minutes into a phone conversation to realize it is a call from Prima Saujana, not Pokrovsky Boulevard or Intanaria II.
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  15. Did you know  that I was supposed to be a lawyer – it was an ambition ‘given’ by my parents. KaCher was supposed to be a doctor, Lil Sis a lecturer, Deal an engineer, Mel… hehe, an architecture! (Excuse my parents’ vocabulary and word form!) Since most occupations end with ‘er’, architect didn’t sound right to them. Well, there is no doctor in our little big family. The only doctor that ever came close was the one I had a huge crush on… err when was that? Heeeeee. Well, no lawyer either. No architect, nor architecture! But six out of eight of us went to uni. The other two super sleuths are on the case!
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  17. Did you know that I have been not once, not twice, but three times a lady struck by lightning? The first time I was just 19 and in Shah Alam. Got off a taxi, was walking in the rain and was holding an umbrella when I suddenly saw sparks coming out of my hand that was holding the umbrella! I did feel little jolts, but they were too mild to make me jump or anything. The second time was in Cherating – my siblings and I were walking on the beach on a very cloudy afternoon. All of a sudden Reen and Mel were yelling, “Oh my God, oh my God! Look at Ngah’s hair! Look at Ngah’s hair!” Sure enough my hair was upright and in the air just like that girl in the 80’s Twisties TV commercial! The third time was just a few years ago in Ampang. It was raining and I was about to open my car door when I just jumped aback feeling a big jolt on my hand as I touched the door handle. My hand went numb for a few good minutes. But I survived to blog about it.
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  19. Did you know that my big crush was on Eric Estrada? If you don’t know who he is, you are probably too young to be reading this. So go Google! Yeeeeeeesyyy!
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  21. Did you know that I am half Chinese and half Indian but was raised to wonder if the Chinese people eat nothing but jyū kuey teow, and Indian people eat nothing but masalavadey! Nobody talked about races back then as it was almost too sensitive. Us kids didn’t know our racial background. We ooh-ed over Achamma’s puttu and we aah-ed when we saw Poupou stirring her drinks with bamboo chopsticks! Huh?
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  23. Did you know that I had some cosmetic surgeries done on me so I would not have too much of a resemblance to Anne Raj? They left me with my own eyes though, uncut. Even they had been lasik-ed. Nnngggeeeeeeeeeee!

 

 

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Balloony Baloney

Be, me Monchies and me spent countless hours and countful Rubels  riding on Metro, Yellow Такси and Lada to get around in this 15-million-people city up until August 12 when we finally got what we CRaVed for. Very little of those countless hours and countful Rubels were for sightseeing, if any. We hopped in, hopped out, jumped on and jumped off those public transport mainly running errands. 

 

Not having our own vehicle was probably my main excuse reason to why the household had gone broomless for the longest time in Enida’s history! I didn’t have the heart to stuff a broom or a mop between myself and the Monchies in the back seat of a cute lil old Lada. Nor did I have the heart to ride a Metro with a broom between my legs. I would be at risk of disclosing my secret bourne identity – so far only Sofia the backdoor-neighbor’s daughter knows. Oh yeah, I do have a cauldron in my pantry. (Witch is for me to blog another day about.)

 

Granted all the papers required to be legal in this bitter-chocolate-bitter-cold country, we then spent countless hours and countful Rubels trying to purchase a vehicle. Looking back at it now, I did not mind the countable Kopecks. But I counted the uncountable hours – waiting for everything. And guess what took the longest? Paying. Yes, paying! For a country that loves money, it sure took us a long time to buy than to shop. I assume your definition of buying and shopping is similar to mine:

 

buying
-paying and taking the purchased item home

shopping
-looking, contemplating, choosing, trying, making my mind up, changing my mind, looking some more, contemplating some more, choosing some more, trying some more, making excuses to not make my mind up, changing my excuses, repeating the whole process until the right time comes for ME to do the buying

 

Anyway, it’s all done now and whatever lessons waiting to be learned have been learned. Including a lesson I learned about balloons, right on the doorstep of the car dealer’s showroom. Yes, balloons. I am not kidding you, nor am I concocting any baloney on you.

 

Those countless hours at the showroom were the farthest cry from what you would label action-packed. But hoy! Were they ever lesson-packed! I learned that no matter how komenes these Russians would want us to see them as, and no matter how they want you to think they can skin your head… they love children. They would offer anything they have and anything they can to kids that come in close propinquity with them. Candies, chocolates, lollies, cookies, sooshka, little toys, balloons… you name it. You’ll end up with a list longer than the TranSiberian rail tracks.

 

So when Miss Svetlana Mikhailovna Dostoevsky took all the trouble of filling two balloons with helium and handed them to Kitreena and Edrick… I was touched. Not overly surprised. Touched, more than anything. And I caught her smiling watching me Monchies playing with the balloons happily in between Jazz, Mugen, Accord and Pilot show models. She even made a loop on the ribbon tying the balloon to each Monchie’s wrist. Very thoughtful indeed.

 

When the dealing was done and it was time to go home wait for a taxi outside, the kids learned that the loop was absolutely more than necessary. But of course, the one lesson I know so well about kids… they always persist on pushing the boundaries. They don’t believe what safe is until they know what risky means. And my boy insisted on taking the risk by taking his wrist out of the loop. I must have warned him about the risk of losing the balloon 15 times within the first 2 minutes of saying ‘no’. It was, for Lenin’s sake, a windy afternoon!

 

I don’t think it takes a Russian intelligence to guess what the next lesson was and learned by whom, kharasyo? Sure enough, the red balloon fled Edrick’s hand in approximately 2 minutes and 15 seconds after he took it off from his wrist! I tried to grab it but to no success. Edrick cried the saddest cry I had ever seen that windy afternoon! He knew he lost it – the balloon, the fun, the chance. It was then that I came to my senses as to why I never liked balloons! They pop, they fly away. They never stay! I learned that I have probably lost many chances in my life just because I had been so afraid of losing!

 

The balloon, I had to tell Edrick, had gone to the balloons’ heaven, where all balloons eventually go. And that was after my unsuccessful attempt of telling him that the balloon had flown to the moon. Edrick, the little einstein rascal demanded I got him a rocket!

 

Just when I thought there was enough learned for one day, another lesson came knocking on my Sense & Sensibility Door, introducing herself as Miss Second Chance. She came just a few hours earlier as Lady Kindness, wearing Miss Svetlana Mikhailovna Dostoevsky’s face. It was a no-wonder that she looked delightfully familiar. Here she was, with another balloon, same color, same loop, same smile.

 

And so Edrick got his second chance, his second balloon, from the same lady! She must have been watching me Monchies from inside (or above, or somewhere!) I was just about ready to jump on her to give her the biggest Russian hug an Asian can ever give, but I knew it was a bit too much. I thanked her with a million spasibas profusedly, nonetheless, as I was boarding the taxi.

 

Two kilometers down the road, Edrick’s second balloon popped!

 

They pop. They fly away. They never stay.

 

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Shortfall

Me DucklingsSummer refuses to linger. Very quickly 24°C weather has turned the page and me ducklings… instead of splashing at the Pokrovsky pond, will have to make do splashing in the bath tub these last couple days or so. It stayed 11°C for a few good morning hours yesterday as Autumn rain has fallen. And I? I stayed indoors minding my wordpress and mending my Spring chook.

 

No, I lied. It was nowhere near a ‘spring’ chook. It was a Doux frozen chicken, the kind we used to get in Oman, after we discovered how fatty the Sadia chooks were. Anyway, as I was fondling her breasts and caressing her thighs gently scanning for missed hairs (stubs from feather follicles), a film of her skin fell off. Did I say I did it gently? And as I was holding her by her back, I crushed the sides of her spine and her ribs too! It was then that I realized that the chook could have been older than me!

 

And I, I am no spring bird either. I am a four-season sexy swan mother goose who just got herself a pair of Viking winter boots – yeah in the middle of summer! Looks like I am going to have to learn to fly this year, if I can’t ski or skate. Hmmm… that made me an old dog who has to learn new tricks because I live in a Siberian husky country. Woof wolf!

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Vagabond

If we can't be beggars, we'll be choosers.

Three homeless people in St. Petersburg
who were neither beggars nor choosers.

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Lucky Lucky Me

She kissed the corners of my mouth, rocked me in her arms stroking my shoulders and held me so close to her chest, that it was hard to believe she wasn’t the one bringing me to this world. And it wasn’t until when she said, “It is good to have you, dear” that I let that little child in me cry the longing cry for a mother.

 

At half past three in the morning she left me at the door and for the first time in my life I realized how my mother never left me. It was I who left her time and time again. And she has never asked me to come home, as though she knew I would always carry her in my heart. She knows I do.

 

Mom getting her mom-entum...This other mother of mine had once asked me to come home to her when her son lost his way home to me. And this other mother of mine looked me in the teary eyes at half past three in the morning and wished me luck as she knew all I need now is just that. Luck. She knows what I am out of.

 

  

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Rodong

Good morning orang Mentekak aka Mentakab! Owk tok koner today?

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Drize Me Cravy

The Craving

 

The crave is back. Branded with a new spank and it drives me wild.

 

 

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Quizás Quizás Quizás

Perhaps… the trouble with being strong is, people assume your heart can never break. Well, it is heartbreaking to break the news, but it can. It does. And when it does, no one usually knows what to do. So your heart breaks, you break down, and that breaks others’ hearts to see. The funny thing is: no one would do anything. And the sad news is: no one can. Perhaps that is why no one does.

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Perhaps no one can break your heart unless you let them. And perhaps no one can mend your broken heart, then, until you let them. Perhaps you are not strong anymore. Perhaps strong is not what you have to be. Perhaps you just have to jump on a different streetcar named courage… on which no one looks back. And perhaps you too should try to do so, letting no one break your heart and letting no one mend it.

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Let me let go...

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Or perhaps the only letting left to do is… go.

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Miles of Smiles Away

The Rostrum

 

We were small people lucky enough to be in one of the most amazing places in the world. St. Petersburg sure changed my attitude and perspectives towards history – the learning of it, as well as the understanding of it. I now know why Russians don’t have much to smile about. I know I do.

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изоляция

Better than what Rastrelli could've designed...

 

I have definitely taken more pictures this trip around than I have ever done many many trips before. But now looking at them all, I keep going back to the very first pictures I took during the last hour train ride approaching St. Petersburg. This is my favorite. And this is specially for my Anastasia out there.

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