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It has been way over fifteen years now of knowing what I don’t want. I know it like I know the back of my hand. Veins, scars and all. I know it by touch and I know it by heart, by all means. I can and I have been telling myself what not to want. I have been living my life almost only by the don’t’s rules.
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But of late, I have been asking myself the opposite questions.
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What do I want? If I really know what I don’t want, do I know what I do want? And I discovered that the answers are not as simple as the opposite of what I don’t want. If I don’t want a man with long messy hair, it doesn’t mean that I want a bald guy. It is more complicated than that. Black is not always the opposite of white. It could be brown.
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So, yeah. I want one whose nails are neatly trimmed and cleaned. I know how it feels to be touched by a dirty hand. Or hands. I know that I can die if I am to be kissed by one who just had garlic bread with blue cheese. Or in a more Asian setting, by one who just had jengkol dipped in sambal tempoyak. Pardon me! I have nothing against jengkol, and I love sambal tempoyak to death. But kissing is a whole different dish, no matter what you just ate.
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And so, yeah. I want one whose eyes are on mine when I speak. Not on his iPhone, or Blackberry or even on my berries (love them berry earrings!) Eyes can go wonder and I can see that. But mind can do wonders, and I can see that too. I read a lot through body language. Especially now, after over fifteen years of reading, I can almost read the next page without even turning it.
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I want to be spoken to in a language not many have mastered. The language of which the grammar is tenderness, and the vocabulary is respect. The accent is, of course, love. But it is not always about love. Even those I don’t love, I speak to with respect. I would not imagine, then, that one who claims to love me would speak to me like an uninvited guest in his house. So speak to me tenderly.
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I want the one who loves me to want me like there is no one else he would ever want. While I can never be perfect or be everything that he wants, he must know, neither can he. The empty place between him and I in time and space is where God shall sit. Love is only lust if it is governed only by our ‘excuse’ for being human. If I love him and want nobody else (no buddy no buddy but Choo), then so shall he.
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I want to be with someone who knows himself well. For only those who do will be comfortable being alone with themselves. Only those who can reach into the abyssal depth of their soul are able to forgive themselves when they err. And don’t we all err? Unfortunately not all of us can forgive ourselves. Many of us kick our poor little selves. Some even kill. And the rest just make more or repeat the same mistakes. So I want to be with Tom as long as he knows he is Tom when he is with me and when he is alone. And not to confuse himself with Dick, or Harry at any given time.
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I want the one who loves me, most of all, to love me enough to make me his priority. While I know the difference between practicality and absurdity, and I know when to want what I want, I also know how it feels to feel important. And needed. And loved.
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The thing is… I don’t really want to want anyone right now.
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Uh… really?
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Posted in Inside Enida | Tagged Whatever Love Is | 2 Comments »
“There are two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children.
One is roots; the other, wings.”
~Hodding Carter
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | Leave a Comment »
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I like sunflowers a lot. No I don’t love them. I just like them a lot. Love is too much. Always too much. So I just like. To be on the safe side.
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Posted in Sense, Write On | 2 Comments »
Monchies were grounded for two full days recently. Seriously grounded! And that means no iPod, no TV, no PS3. And the worse was, no Table Soccer! Worse because I just got them the Table Soccer – merely ten minutes before they got grounded!
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The salahlaku was fighting in public. Fighting to open the door of the shop where we went and got the Table Soccer. Apakah!
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The story is, both of them have not been in school this week. The cough, the lungs infection, the temperature, you name it. Luckily it is the final week of Term 2 and the exam, for Kitreena, is done and over. Though I don’t like them being absent, I know the coughing can be really tiring. I have been having the same package deal since the first week of March, for goodness’s sake. I know!
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And with the bugs going around, I wanted to make sure Monchies recover steadily at home as much as I wanted the bugs to not spread to other kids. It could be nasty in this kind of weather. Anyway, Monchies have been taking it easy at home. So much so that we were like a bunch of house-arrested ex-cons for three days! Yeah, I arrested myself as well.
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So on Tuesday I took them out to get some sunshine, while I had to go out to get some food supply (for some reason I’m making it sound like I live 3 days horse-cart-ride away from the nearest Prairie town). And on the same day, lunch was at a good restaurant. Nothing fancy, just good. Anything that was not in our kitchen was supposedly ‘good’ after three days of home-cooked food.
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Done with the grocery, done with lunch, and on our way to the parking bay, I remembered to get me a new peppermill. The old one lost its screw and like some good ole things that are not worth repairing, I accepted the fact that I had to find a replacement. I had to move on. I mean I didn’t have to move on. I just moved on, for peppermill’s sake.
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Edrick was the happiest because he knew we were going to the House of Presentation where he wanted to go for the ‘table soccer thingy’ the last time he seriously merajuk (because I said no). So we went in this time. And so, other than the peppermill thingy for me, I got Monchies the table soccer thingy, and also the lesung batu thingy to replace the old one – also broken. There! All was supposed to be well in the House of Mesra. Or so you think?
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But noooooo! Some munchkins had to be monsters at the end of the day by fighting in public. Great! Excellent! Do it again, people! I dragged Monchies, Bibik, the peppermill thingy, the table soccer thingy and the lesung batu thingy quickly to the parkade, paid the ticket and got in the car. There they had it! My peace talk! Even Bibik got her little jentik for not stopping Monchies from bercekau.
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Lucky no one got burried underground. Just grounded! (And not pounded either.)
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Glossary for Neil:
salahlaku = wrongdoing
Apakah? = What’s with that?
lesung batu = mortar and pestle
jentik = flick
bercekau = row
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 9 Comments »
Getting older is a privilege, not a curse. And I am enjoying it every other month now taking myself to the salon to color my hair. I never had the chance to do this when I was younger. And now that I kinda have to do it, I am liking it. What a luxury!
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It’s not my birthday today. But I am pampering my feet tonight by surrendering them to Mr. iSqueeze. He’s always ready for me. All I have to do is turn him on. He’ll take me as I am. Yes, even when I am 81. You’ll see.
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🙂 This is a tribute to Ruth Johnson who gets a little older every April 6th. While she might not agree that getting older is (always) a privilege… I think she is the perfect picture of Graceful Aging. She gets older little by little, but she doesn’t get old.
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Posted in Inside Enida, Sense | Leave a Comment »
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I can love you far and long.
I can give you all that I have and more.
I can do anything, and when I can’t, I’ll learn how to.
I can be anyone, anywhere and anyhow you want me to be.
I can love you more than much, more than enough and more than most.
Yes I can.
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But I can teach myself not to.
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Posted in Inside Enida | 2 Comments »
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The falling leaves drift by my window
The falling leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold
Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song
But I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall
Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song
But I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall
I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall
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I was browsing for some paintings of angels one day in 2002 on a Calgarian cold snowy morning when I stumbled upon Eva Cassidy’s “Essence of Eva”. One painting led to another and then I got reading about the beautiful soul that she was. In no time I found myself in a record store buying every single CD that Eva Cassidy ever produced. But Autumn Leaves is my all-time top of the list favorite.
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Thank you Emila Yusof for keeping me in the loop!
I still listen to Marketa’s ‘If You Want Me, Satisfy Me’ with a vengeance! 🙂
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Posted in Songs | 1 Comment »
This is fresh from the oven! I am still frowning and my brain is still hurting from squeezing the juice trying to figure out what is going on in that handsome little head.
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Edrick just had his morning shower. And on his way down he stopped on the landing to ask me this…
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Edrick: Mommy, when you marry another husband and get a baby girl or a baby boy, could you please get me another bunk bed so I can have the top bed?
Mommy: *looks at Bibik, looks at Edrick, looks back at Bibik’s wide open mouth, and has troubles finding words to respond to this sudden attack*
Edrick: Mommy, please?
Mommy: But why do I have to marry another husband and get a baby to get another bunk bed? You can just switch with Kitreena if you want the top bed.
Edrick: Yeah, but what if Kitreena wants the top bed, and I want the top bed? If you get another bunk bed, the baby can sleep on the bottom bed of my bunk bed so it won’t be empty.
Mommy: *is shocked but has to say this anyway* Wow! That is very advanced thinking Monch. But I think I can skip the husband and the baby part. It’s much easier to just go get another bunk bed.
Edrick: So can I have my own bunk bed now?
Mommy: Go deal with your sister. *is going online-shopping for a husband bunk bed*
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 9 Comments »
Beb,
I dah lama nak tanya you ni sebenarnya. Tapi I malu. Dalam pandai kononnya bercakap sana bercakap sini, I ni sebenarnya reti malu. Tapi dalam malu I nak tanya jugak.
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Tapi sebab malu, kita cakap berkias lah ye. Ni, I nak tanya you, kalau lah dalam hati you tu ada dua ribu lima ratus tujuh puluh satu relung sawah padi kan beb… you rasa-rasa you ada tak serelung untuk I?
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Okay la, okay la, kalau tak boleh serelung, cincai la bagi I setengah relung ke, suku relung ke dah la. I tak tamak and I tak nak menaruh harapan seribu relung setinggi gunung. So, ada tak suku relung untuk I ni?
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Hahhh? You tanya I suku relung nak buat apa? Aiii, relung padi untuk I bertanam padi lah beb. Takkan tanam tebu pulak. Kalau nak tanam tebu, nun di pinggir bibir nun. Tu pun you nak tanya dengan penuh syak wasangka ke?
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Come on lah beb, you ada lebih daripada dua ribu setengah relung. And I mintak setengah relung. Bukan seribu setengah. Bukan setengah ribu. Opocots! Tadi I kata I nak berapa relung? Suku je kan? Haa suku relung tu I nak tolong tanamkan padi baik untuk you. Itu je.
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Tak ada niat tersirat dalam hati I ni. Percayalah beb. I cuma nak diberi peluang untuk membuktikan pada you, suku relung padi baka baik I tu nanti akan mendatangkan manfaat kepada tidak lain dan tidak bukan, you jugak. You, you dan you!
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I tau suku relung tu sangatlah cenonet. Kalau you guna Google Map ke, Latitude ke, Bing ke, tengok in the hybrid mode… suku relung yang I mintak tu ibaratnya satu noktah sahaja pada laptop screen you yang besar tu tau.
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You still tak paham macam mana suku relung boleh memanfaatkan you? Laaa iye lah, I nak tanam padi. Kan ke jauh lebih baik daripada you yang ada dua ribu tujuh ratus lima puluh dan tiga suku relung semuanya, tapi bertanam lalang?
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Posted in Humor, Write On | 1 Comment »
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