Sanctuary, and the aftershock

It was a little after 2 in the morning when C and I left the latest nightspot addition to the Curve. It's one of those 4 concepts-in-1 place spots, called the Sanctuary. It's a South East Asian cuisine restaurant, featuring Thai-style cooking. On the other half of the room it's a pub/lounge, with DJ's spinning the turntable from Wednesdays to Saturdays. In the corner, near the alternative exits (one of those doors with the sign that says PLEASE USE MAIN ENTRANCE) is a tiny ice room (box, rather) called the Ice Bar, that can fit up to 8 patrons in one time. The bar is supposed to be constructed of ice, along with other furnishings. It's not 100% complete, so it'll be better by early next year, I suppose. There are jackets on hangers outside the Ice Bar, with a bouncer guy stationed near the door. From what I saw, if you'd like to get into the Ice Bar, you flag one of the waiters down and tell him how many's in your party. Then, he'll come back and guide you there (remember the 8 patrons max at one time rule?) So it's like having drinks outdoors during icy cold winter, I think. Not sure what the other concept is to the place that makes 4, but then I've never been good all-in 1 products anywho.

DJ was great last night - apparently, Thursdays are ladies nights, with the normal list of complimentary drinks for ladies. I had one sip of the vodka lime and decided to stick to my faithful cola. Felt like I was sipping dishwashing liquid - not that I've ever, but then I dont need to fall out of a plane to have an idea of how it feels, do I? DJ played lots of retro, and the mixes blend into each other nicely; not one of those situations where you're left standing in between songs, guessing what's coming up next. Looking around, I realised that I get get my kicks from learning dance moves to great hits in my gym classes. In clubs, not a lot of dancing happens. Just a lot of gyrating bodies, sometimes bumping into the wait staff and other patrons. But C looked like he enjoyed himself a lot so I just went with the flow.

I first saw him while I was walking back to the car from the Autopay machine. I thought this young man was walking the way he was due to a disability - but the weaving pattern he made was not due to Polio, and C confirmed it when I pointed it out to him. We drove to where the young man was slumped next to a car (it was his, we later found out) and after we found out his name, we (or rather, C did) helped him throw up a bit and cleaned him up. We got him to tell us who to call, and I spoke to his friend, a young woman with a warm voice, Charlene. She asked to speak to him, I told her that we'd stay with him until she got there. In the meantime, the young man, B, was alternating between catnaps and tears. Kept on going on about how useless he was. Poor kid. C did most of the comforting - kept on consoling him that his friend's on his way to get him home and we would stay with him until she arrived. About 40 minutes later, Charlene arrived, with her friend Jessie. Both were polite and very concerned about B. Charlene found B's car keys in his pocket, got the car park coupon and we helped get him into the car. She'd drive him home while Jessie followed in her car that they arrived in. Smart girls.

A few cars passed us while we waited for Charlene. Only 1 stopped to ask if things are ok. The rest just drove past. A security guard rode by on his bike. Gave us somewhat of an evil eye or steely stare, but nevertheless, didnt slow down. Hell - we could have been baddies who beat up that poor kid and were taking a break while he lay there, bleeding internally, for all he cared. I'd like to believe that someone would have stopped and checked B's condition if we had not been there.

I'll drag C into a Body Jam class next time.

Sorted, Guv!

Happy days are on its way. I finished one part of my home re-org. The airconditioning unit was installed in the bedroom yesterday. The installation guys also reinforced the hook on the ceiling for my punching bag. Nice job, for a small tip and a bag of crinkle potato chips. This morning I only took a little bit more than an hour to turn my Queen-size bed to a different side to make way for my work table, bring in the work table and chair, set up my SoHo and have my Maxis wireless broadband up and running. I like the peace and quiet. I wont have to share my desk with C anymore. LOVE THAT. I still have a few things left to do i.e. clean up my walk-in wardrobe next door and fix up the living room a bit. For now I dont feel the pressure because I know the main thing on my list is achieved. I've created my personal space. But I would like to get the living room sorted before I leave for the east coast tomorrow.

What I'm in the spirit to do is to look around for a sturdy and comfy sofa. I remember Farid's recommendation a few weeks ago to source for functional and smart furniture at Cavenzi. There is a showroom near the Centrepoint area, which is close, so maybe I'll pop by there this afternoon.

I really need to go to the gym today. Need to work off the lychee martini, spicy chicken sausages and bloody mary that I guzzled last night at Laundry! Yummy lychee martini, but I think I drank it too fast - I became very lightheaded very quickly after. After gallons of water (until right now, actually) I feel a llittle confident that I wont be woozing my way around so it's time to work the stuff out of my system :-)

Before things get more pear-shaped... he he he

Splurge: Everlast. Save: Oriental

It's been a long time coming, but finally I can cross several things off my list.

I think I've got most of the stuff sorted out - my new red Oriental punching bag will be secured to a strong hook and hung from the ceiling. I've always wanted to use that corner space in the living room and now I can. The electricians will be here on Tuesday to install the new airconditioning unit in my bedroom. The bed can then go back to its original place. I'll move the dresser to a different corner of the bedroom so that my legs wont be pointing towards it when I'm in bed. I'll be able to use my bedside table again - with my bedside table lamp and clock on it, just like before. I can find a lovely, comfy, corner sofa to put in front of the TV - a corner sofa that I can sink into.

I'm leaving the TV in the living room, for sure. If I bring it into the bedroom, my insomnia will never find its cure! I've decided to turn my bed into a haven for sleeping only. No more reading in bed. No more eating in bed - yep, my night bed is also a day bed / sofa for the time being, all achieved with clever use of multi-functional bedcovers - slip the comforter all the way up, over the pillows, place a throw / colorful batik sarong across the bed and va-va-voom! Instant daybed. Before bedtime, take the wrap off, shake/fluff the comforter, fold it back down the lower half of the mattress, and I have my night bed again, for my deep slumber.

I only haven't fully figured out my strategy for the SoHo yet. I dont like to see the criss-crossing wires. I dont like to work from a cramped location, that's why I moved my workstation out to the living room. I think I'll decide on its location once I sorted out the bed and the sofa.

Merry Christmas to me :-)

To the one that got away

I was folding up your letters, unpacking winter clothes
Searching for my hat I thought I left it by the door
So I tore around the room like a bird without a head
I saw your picture waving back at me from underneath the bed
From a long, long time ago
When all I had was a hat full of stars
The one I’ll always treasure
The one that you wore
You loved the look, but you never looked inside
You would have seen me there
You could’ve seen far
You should’ve seen the magic in my hat full of stars

I’m trying to live in the present but I keep tripping on the past
Finding out reality, well - clarity comes in drips and draps
No, we never had the time for everything we had
So it felt like we had nothing
That’s what makes this hat so sad
It was a long, long time ago
When all we had was a hat full of stars
The one I’ll always treasure
The one that you wore
You loved the look but you never looked inside...
you would have seen us there, you could’ve seen far
You should’ve seen the magic in my hat full of stars

Now whenever I’m alone, and I think I might forget
I wear my lucky hat just like a crown up on my head -

’Cause all I have is a hat full of stars
The one I’ll always treasure, the one that you wore
You loved the look, but you didnt look inside
If you could see me now, you would’ve seen far
You should’ve seen the magic in my hat full of stars...

Achtung Baby

We met properly only 6 hours before that party. He's one of B's good friends. Since JJ was the designated driver, the rest of us were all pretty happy to let our hair down and party. We arrived at the first party, a birthday bash, in good time. I enjoyed the gardens most. It was one of those well-manicured grounds with the expensive grass that was sold by the square metre. By 10:30 pm we were lying on our backs, faces turned up to the sky, watching the airplanes race through the thick clouds. A few times, our conversation got interrupted when I'd occasionaly jump up and chase the family's orange tabby cat around, just for fun. A few times, I caught him sitting up looking at me while I was trying to corner the tabby. I remember turning to him once and smiling at him over my shoulder, receiving a warm laugh in response. He said I surprised him with my insightful remarks. I told him he surprised me with his sense of humor - I had thought earlier that he didnt have one :-)

We sat a bit closer to each other in the car, on the way to the farewell party in KL. When we arrived, I was engulfed in Simon's and Marco's bear hugs and when I looked up, I couldnt find him. It was only after almost an hour later, while I was in the middle of a lovely conversation with a lady about our recent travels to Hong Kong that I felt his eyes on me again.

I finally took the advice featured endlessly by women's magazines.

I made eye contact, held it for a few seconds, and smiled.

Then I turned back to the lady I was talking to and continued our conversation. I didnt have to fake anything actually because the conversation was lively and engaging, and I almost forgot about him. He came up to me when Jospehine excused herself to join her boyfriend. Then we chatted. A lot. We made eye contact. A lot. Then we started to move to the music. When he ran his fingers along my collarbone, I swear it gave me goosebumps. Everytime his hands tightened on my waist, I felt like swooning. Honest.

On the way back to his apartment, he held his hand out to me, palm up. I took it. He interlaced his fingers with mine the whole time. We had planned to drop him off at his condo first, but when we arrived, we were all rather tipsy, and our designated driver was rather sleepy. B's idea made sense - instead of dropping off, we'd all go up to the condo and rest for a bit, have some coffee or tea, and then move on to send me home next before him and JJ make their way home.

Somehow coffee and tea turned to schnapps and vodka, but JJ and I helped ourselves to orange juice and water :-) While she took a nap on the loveseat and B smoked his cigarette on the balcony, I rested on the sofa. I felt, rather than saw him sit next to me. His white shirt was unbuttoned. It seemed natural for me to adjust myself to put my head on his lap while I lie on my back with my legs resting on the arm of the sofa.

I would've resisted words, but his touch was so gentle I didnt want to push him away. It's almost 2 years since I lost John to the waves that hit Phi Phi that December. No matter how much I'm told that it's not my fault, I still cant shake the guilt off. It was still my idea to change the destination to Phuket - no circumstance will change that fact. Losing John has made me testy. I didnt want to be close to another man. I couldnt. What I just realised last night was how much I miss being touched. Being gently carressed. When he smoothed my hair away from my forehead, I closed my eyes and closed the compartment in my brain that held my guilt for losing John. Temporary measures, I told myself, and I wanted that touch to continue. I wanted to feel those hands stroking my shoulders, those thumbs gently tracing my shut eyelids, my cheekbones, my jaw. I dont know why the tears came when they did, but I couldnt stop them. I felt his fingers brush my tears away. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I'd expected understanding, warmth, maybe even pity. But I was surprised when I saw sorrow. Deep sorrow and loss. Were there sorrow and loss written in my eyes and his eyes mirrored them?

A long while after that, I heard B ask him if I was ok while JJ went to the bathroom. I heard him reply that I was asleep. I heard him tell B and JJ that he'll send me home in the morning and he'll remind me to call them as soon as I get home. I heard JJ whisper to him to take care of me and ring her if I wanted a ride home from her as soon as I woke up. I must have dozed off after that because the next time I opened my eyes I was already curled up on the sofa, covered in blankets. He was in the other sofa, asleep. When I got back from the bathroom, he was awake, watching me. "Let's get some sleep now ok?" he said.

We woke up at 10:30 this morning. He fixed strong, thick German coffee for breakfast. I cooked pancakes for lunch. We went out to the night market and ate loads of rojak buah for dinner.

It's almost 1:30 am now. He's working on his laptop across from me. If I stretch my neck a bit, I can see my overnight bag and my gym bag on the bedroom floor, where he left them 3 hours ago. He just passed me a handwritten note on the back of an envelope - "Are you driving me to work or shall I send you to your office first tomorrow morning?" . I just slid the envelope back to him with my reply. He's smiling at what I wrote. He's looking at me now - "Let's get some sleep, ok?"

Good night, all.

Tolerating or understanding?

There are times when anger just feels like it’s about to burst out from all my pores. Like all the smoke and fire will just fly out of my nose and ears. Something as small as C asking me if he can use my LAN connection when the cable is still plugged to my computer. Like him asking me for a tenner even when he knows that I have only 30 bucks in my purse and to my name. I feel a deep, smoldering heat that threatens to consume me. The threat feels so real that I feel I could just implode and dissolve into a small pile of ashes after 3 minutes of internal combustion. The heat just sometimes rises to my face and I can feel it – I can feel the blood vessels expand and all this life fluids are brought on to that thin space just under the top layer of my skin. From the top of my head to my toes. It’s so hot sometimes that I feel like if I submerge myself into a tub of water I’d be able to see and hear the hiss of the steam! I feel like ending every sentence – nay, every word – with 50 exclamation marks.

I feel such peace and quiet when he’s not here, actually. Today, my brother and his family made plans to spend some time with me at my place. C stayed away to make way for them; surely, a flatmate is not what my brother is expecting when he comes to visit his elder sister. The plan was for after lunch, but because it rained, it had to be postponed to dinner. Oh what bliss! I had a few hours to myself to do whatever I want. What freedom! It’s such a joy to not have another laptop in front of mine on my workstation. So refreshing to not hear the irritating termite-like sound of the hurried clicking of the mouse button while he plays his online game. Such a sight for sore eyes for me to see the clear desk in front of me, without the usual clutter of the 2 extra laptops, the mouse device, the assortment of keys and small rubbish, the used mugs, the empty food packets. So relaxing to not have to worry about anyone walking behind me, looking over my shoulder to watch what’s on my computer screen. Privacy. How wonderful.

I hate the person I have become. I turn inward, even from myself. I trust no one, yet I long to be trusted. I don’t want to depend on others, yet I want to considered as dependable. I want to be calm, yet my temper is on hair trigger most of the time when C is near. This is not love. This is not understanding. This is toleration gone wrong. An overstayed welcome. When he moves on, he literally will move on forward. I will be the one who will need to get used to him not being here any more. I want him to move on now but the bugger is so down and out he doesn’t even have another place to stay. Somehow I don’t trust him. I have a strong feeling that if he’s out on the streets, he’ll find a way to survive. He can't let himself be homeless now can he? I don’t want to even see his stuff any more. The clutter. It’s clogging up my mind like someone’s stuffing cotton wool into my head and has not stopped. I just want him to leave. Go. Get out of my life. But the many times I told him that he just asks me to give him another few months to get his shit together. I put up with this for so long – by now he’s had so much time, his shit would have time to put their shit together! I’m exhausted. I’m angry at myself. I can't even be strong and stand for myself now. I’m letting him walk all over me. I don’t know who I hate more right now. Him or me.

stylish fashion or fashionable style?

fashion / Pronunciation [fash-uhn]
–noun

1. a prevailing custom or style of dress, etiquette, socializing, etc.: the latest fashion in dresses.
2. conventional usage in dress, manners, etc., esp. of polite society, or conformity to it: the dictates of fashion; to be out of fashion.
3. manner; way; mode: in a warlike fashion.
4. the make or form of anything: He liked the fashion of the simple, sturdy furniture.
5. a kind; sort: All fashions of people make up the world.

style / Pronunciation [stahyl]

–noun

1. a particular kind, sort, or type, as with reference to form, appearance, or character: the baroque style; The style of the house was too austere for their liking.
2. a particular, distinctive, or characteristic mode of action or manner of acting: They do these things in a grand style.
3. a mode of living, as with respect to expense or display. An elegant, fashionable, or luxurious mode of living: to live in style.
4. a mode of fashion, as in dress, esp. good or approved fashion; elegance; smartness.
5. the mode of expressing thought in writing or speaking by selecting and arranging words, considered with respect to clearness, effectiveness, euphony, or the like, that is characteristic of a group, period, person, personality, etc.: to write in the style of Faulkner; a familiar style; a pompous, pedantic style.
6. manner or tone adopted in discourse or conversation: a patronizing style of addressing others.
7. a particular, distinctive, or characteristic mode or form of construction or execution in any art or work: Her painting is beginning to show a personal style.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

In May 2006, I made the first serious decision regarding my work wardrobe.

So I went to Bangkok and had suits made. I saved a lot for that because I know I needed higher end fabric for this. I decided to use my tailor's expertise from design phase, including identifying user requirements (I'm the user, of course). So, here's what transpired:

Before meeting with tailor:

1. I did reseach on fabrics and how they work in different climates. Also got a general idea of the logic behind combination of different types
2. Decided what kind of clothes do I want to wear and generally where and what will I need them for

During meetings with tailor, I detailed my requirements: among them -

1. I'll be wearing the suits primarily in hot and humid tropical climate. Main purpose of clothes are not for meetings overseas cold climate locations
2. Need tailoring that makes me look good e.g. I don’t tuck in shirts because my waistline is not obvious so I need shirts that are designed to be worn outside
3. I've got a short torso so I need the design that makes me look well-proportioned. I don’t like shirts that 'bubble' because they don’t fall nicely on my lower back
4. I'm overly concious of my thighs so trouser design must have a balanced degree of flare at the bottom without looking like the nanny of the Brady Bunch kids
5. Type of fabric must take into account how nicely they fall ie hang on my body frame
6. Type of fabric must be lightweight and suitcase-friendly ie does not crumple too much too easily.
7. Style must be lean and not too bulky esp when we're including linings
8. Fabric must be travel friendly ie I don’t want to dry clean the damn stuff all the time. I'm cool with handwash - I handwash my own clothes
9. Good color combo that brings out the healthiest of my skin tone and hair color
10. Total mix and match ie all shirts must be able to be worn with any suit and colors must be 'me' enough within the generally accepted 'corporate' hues
11. NO PLAIN BLACK SUITS, NO PLAIN WHITE SHIRTS

That's just some of it. Apparently I hit the right nerve because my tailor became very engrossed in this project. Has the mark of not just a good tailor, but a great businessman. We collaborated harmoniously together, reviewing all fabric and color choices. We looked at different suit jacket lengths, trouser length, hem design, waistband design, skirt lengths - time consuming yet satisfying. I think my tailor bloomed more than I - he really enjoyed the challenge. No surprises then when I ended up with the higher end of fabric - I had had to agree to the combo of 70% cashmere and 30% wool for my suits; the only fabric that met all my requirements, no compromises. Shirts are normal lah - egyptian cotton.

So, after much civilised and unhurried discussion of price and package configuration, the final price came to THB 28, 000 for these items:
3 suit jackets
3 knee-skimming length skirts
3 pairs of trousers
4 long sleeve shirts with cuffs made for to wear with cufflinks
3 silk scarves

Suits came in dark dusty grey pinstripes, dark blue and khaki-beige. Shirts came in dark red/maroon, white and pink checks (small fine pink squares, not huge ones, on white background - my favorite!), corporate blue (the one between light blue and normal blue) and creamy sunflower yellow.

I remember comtemplating a lot of things during the 2 fittings. When everything was ready, I insisted on not having the clothes delivered to the hotel. I went to pick them up, and tried everything. Even the different mix and match combos of shirts and suits. Brought my pantyhose (dark and normal skin colors) and my 2 pairs of often-worn heels - 3" and 1.5". The other tailors employed by the shope were rather surprised, but my tailor didn’t even bat an eyelash. As I arrived, he asked the help staff to prepare cold drinks, sat me down and took out the clothing items from the bags and laid them out while I cooled down (Bangkok - hot and humid!) and offered a cool towel too, so that I wouldn’t get sweaty during fittings after. He continued with his work and let me sit there quietly reading the papers and sipping my drink until I said "OK, I'm ready now," about 20 mins after I had arrived.

After the fitting he invited me to sign the customer pattern/measurement book. It's a huge one that tailors use and he had shown me that book at our first meeting, for me to read the testimonials of other satisfied customers. A lot of them wrote long stuff. On my page, I wrote "Perfect fit. Well done." I guess he caught my expression and knew that those were the only words needed. He presented me with a small box. Inside, a pair of Gucci cufflinks. I know they were from Patpong market or Chatuchak, but I don’t care. I wear them until now.

I returned to KL with my key wardrobe pieces. I wear them to death, knowing that I won't have to purchase any new office wardrobe for the next 18 months, at least. Did I mention that adjustments (to accomodate for expansions or the opposite) would be free of charge?

I recommended him to my friends. Some are happy, some are not, but I know none of them received any cufflinks :-) but I note that the few who were unhappy did not approach this project with harmony and peace of mind. Expectations were not clear. Even if they were, they were communicated in a very fishmonger-ish manner. Harsh tone of voice, condescending, know-it all. Hey I love them, theyre still my friends :-) but it's their clothes decision, so I never intrude.

For me, I began to see the difference between style and fashion. I see fashion as seasonal. Something hot now may not be so hot next year. Style lives forever. It's what a person makes out of fashion. It's something deeply personal. It's the intangible thing that makes us see how can one dress look awesome on one person, yet the same dress doesnt really work on another body.

At the end of the day, I learnt this - it's true that clothes maketh the man; but it's the man who decides on the clothes, and he'd better have a great tailor.

to explode or not to explode?

ex . plo . sion  / Pronunciation [ik-sploh-zhuhn]

1. an act or instance of exploding; a violent expansion or bursting with noise, as of gunpowder or a boiler (opposed to implosion).
2. the noise itself: The loud explosion woke them.
3. a violent outburst, as of laughter or anger.
4. a sudden, rapid, or great increase: a population explosion.
5. the burning of the mixture of fuel and air in an internal-combustion engine.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

The meeting started pretty harmlessly, just like any other weekly team meetings where the focus would be on updates of work status. However, one gets the expression that the other shoe was going to fall as the we went into the first 10 minutes.

The other shoe did fall. And it fell with a very loud explosion. Suffice to say, a lot of frustration was aired by 2 of the team members. They used me as an example though. If this example is seen from a point of view that's not too friendly, it could indicate that they're critisizing me and my scope of work. Like questioning my decision to be involved in content development while at the same time wearing the logistics and area coordinator hat. Like not being focused on what's more important and urgent.

Seen from a more task-oriented objective point of view, this could be taken as an attempt of a more senior team member to protect another from unwise use of her time i.e. Batman speaking up for Robin because Batman knows better and Batman has seen this happening before and Batman doesnt want Robin to be put in situations where Robin will not be able to focus on his strengths.

Thank goodness I read Malcolm Gladwell's Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking http://www.amazon.com/Blink-Power-Thinking-Without/dp/0316172324/ref=pd_sim_b_1/102-7101110-3615323?ie=UTF8 and became more aware of how snap judgements can be really useful and not just hasty decisions that are poorly-made. I observed the situation and assessed it. My decision was to keep quiet and keep a neutral facial expression (read: blank). Main message I wanted to convey: whatever that's being discussed was an example, not an exact case in point. It's always advantageous to keep a few cards up one's sleeve.

It worked. The small strategy bought me some extra time to get a better feel of the whole situation and find out the source of frustration experienced by a couple of the team members. The outcome was positive - our responsibilities have been made clearer and thankfully I'll be able to return home earlier. Most importantly, the underlying current of tension that I sensed when I first got here has gone.

I did not explode. Good for me. 2 things to do when I get home:

1. Learn chess strategies
2. Learn how to play poker

Sounds doable ;-)

Train encounters

ex - ot - ic / Pronunciation[ig-zot-ik]

–adjective

1. of foreign origin or character; not native; introduced from abroad, but not fully naturalized or acclimatized: exotic foods; exotic plants.
2. strikingly unusual or strange in effect or appearance: an exotic hairstyle.
3. of a uniquely new or experimental nature: exotic weapons.
4. of, pertaining to, or involving stripteasing: the exotic clubs where strippers are featured.

–noun
something that is exotic: The flower show included several tropical exotics with showy blooms.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

There I was, sitting quietly in the speed train at Ostbanhhoff (Munich east) station before it moves to my destination station to the south east. Usually, at Ostbahnhoff, the trains wait a bit longer before continuing ahead. I kept my nose buried in my book and looked up for a quick moment and noticed a short-haired, business-suited young gentleman looking at me rather intently. We made eye contact . He smiled. I smiled a little smile back. Suddenly, he hurried into the train and sat down across from where I was sitting.

"Hi," he says.
I smile and nod.
"You're staying at the Karl Theodor hotel, arent you?" he asks.
I just look at him, still looking polite, but not really keen on giving him the information.
"I stay there too, I'm Andreas," he holds out his hand.
"Well, nice to meet you, Andreas." I shake his hand.
"I've seen you a few times at the lobby but I didnt have a chance to say hello" he smiles again.

The train starts to move.

"Well it's a surprise to meet you here, then" I tell him.
"Are you here for work?" He asks.
I nod. "And you?" I ask him back.
He nods back to me. We nod a lot.
"I'll be here for a month and a half," he tells me. I nod again.
"Almost the same as me - about a month" I tell him.

The train arrives at St. Martin Strasse halt - my destionation. I gather my bag and stand up. He stands up too. The doors open and we step out together.

Before I go down the staircase to exit the station, he gives me his name card and writes his room number at the back. I take it and return his smile. Ya - we nod and smile a lot in the 8-minute train ride.

"Will you call me when you're free one of these evenings? If you like, I'd like to invite you for a drink," he asks me.
I nod and smile. "Maybe this evening or tomorrow?" I ask him.
His smile got wider. "That sounds super," he says the word super the way Germans do, making the 's' sound like a 'z'.
"You have a good day today," he tells me. He gives me a short wave.
I nod again. I begin to feel like one of those bobbing-head dolls you I see stuck on car dashboards.
"I've got to catch the train back to Ostbahnhoff now to go to the opposite direction." He tells me.
I had to laugh at that.
"Thanks for keeping me company then," I tell him.
"Thanks for letting me!" He starts to laugh too.

I still hear his chuckles as I start walking down the stairs.

I smiled all the way to the office. He does have a nice smile. Then I remembered something.

I never told him my name.

Guess I'll have to call him this evening after work then, won't I?

Funny how these encounters never happen to me back home... maybe I'm not exotic enough in my homeland, neh? :-)

Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly...

Looks like the real design work for me starts today. After a good intro to the management course and the current status of design, I am beginning to understand the whole picture. I kept on wondering what was the one thing that I felt was eluding me before – the underlying concept of the whole training program pyramid from the most basic management course to the top management course. Apparently, there’s this thing called the ‘red thread’ that is the one thing that holds the learning sequence together, from top to bottom. Technically, the red thread is the correct combination of the key messages and the order they are presented to the participant. If I have a set of key messages and they are presented in an order that is not logically connected to one another and does not make sense, I am still guilty of not maintaining the red thread throughout the learning sequence.

So what I'm doing now is getting started with my work. I’m at the first step: familiarizing myself with the topic. My topic is motivation. Looks like my inherent attraction to complexity has displayed itself again. Apparently I have chosen the 2 more high-profile topics! These are part of the core ideas of the leadership topics – understanding motivation and how to motivate yourself and the people you work with, and I have also ‘successfully’ selected the topic of being part of a management team and leading your own team. Now I look back and think – what on earth inspired me to select this topic? Could understanding the subconscious reason behind this choice be one of the keys I need to get cracking on the right foot here?

Oct 12 coming soon

It's only a few more days until Sanada-san's birthday.

The latest news on this versatile artist is that he's signed up for the latest in the Jackie Chan 'Rush Hour' series. Currently filming in Paris. He'll be one of the baddies in this movie. Based on what I've heard, the director and producers were interested in Yao Ming for this role, initially. I suppose he said no, so they approached Sanada-san. A lot of us remember him as Ujio in 'The Last Samurai'.

The list of his latest movies is growing. I havent yet caught these ones:

1. The White Countess - he stars along Ralph Fiennes and Natasha Richardson
2. The City of Your Final Destination - along with Anthony Hopkins
3. Sunshine - a Danny Boyle film, along with Michelle Yeoh(CTHG with Chow Yun Fatt), Rose Bryne (Troy) and Cillian Murphy (Batman Begins)
4. Aimless Aegis - a Japanese movie about a hijack of a hi-tech Aegis escort ship

I havent heard any updates of work on the City of Your Final Destination though - so I wonder what's up with that one.

But I do love Sanada-san's work. And he is a beautiful man, too :)

Wish upon a star

Currently:

1. mind-mapping my packing list for the next work-related trip; books and other binders, equipment, clothes
2. finalizing list of references for my chosen contents of the pre-program work materials and process
3. preparing certificates of completion for the group graduating from the November 2006 management development/training program
4. in the middle of preparation for the grueling work on the training program development assignment due to start Tuesday Oct 10

Wish I was:

1. lying on a deck chair with a gorgeous Speedo-wearing hunk massaging my bikini-clad body with SPF-6 sun tan oil
2. enjoying a huge bowl of Penang prawn noodles or Ipoh kway teow soup with iced coffee or watermelon juice
3. window-shopping in 1Utama for shoes (heels, casuals, new NIKEs)
4. trying on dresses in Blook, Tangoo, Spade…
5. having pizza in Pizza Hut
6. browsing for ID ideas in IKEA
7. in the gym steam room for pore and hair treatment
8. in a salon for body scrub, massage, facial, bikini line waxing, upper lip hair removal, eyebrow trim
9. having an Affogatto in Dome café
10. having an Affogatto and pancakes and eggs and turkey ham with a few magazines in Dome café

Well -

a girl can dream, can't she?

my anthem

Dream On - Aerosmith

Every time I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face getting clearer
The past is gone
It goes by, like dusk to dawn
Isn't that the way
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay

Yeah, I know nobody knows
where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Half my life is in books' written pages
Lived and learned from fools and from sages
You know it's true
All the things you do come back to you

Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away

Dream On Dream On
Dream On
Dream until your dreams come true
Dream On Dream On
Dream On
Dream until your dream comes through
Dream On Dream On
Dream On Dream On
Dream On Dream On
Dream On

Sing with me, sing for the year
sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away...

Rebalancing - personal places, Pt 2

In Feb '06, Chris and I decided to check out the Japanese tea ceremony up on Bukit Tinggi, in the Japanese Village (up Colmar Tropicale). I'd only been up there once before, in '02, and I only have vague memories of the area. We were just in time for the 11:00 am session and there were only 2 of us for the ceremony. Once payment was settled - MYR 20 per person for the ceremony and MYR 20 rental per yukata (summer light kimono) - the attendants promptly closed the sliding doors of the tea house and moved us to the smaller rooms to dress. I kept my white socks on and kept quiet most of the time, while the tea house manager dressed me. I decided that I was going to observe more, so the manager expertly chose a brown-rose colored yukata for me. Looks nice on brown girl, she said. She also decided to use a more classic way of dressing me; using a light-colored sash as a band around my waist and a simple gold-colored cord to bind around me, on top of the sash, making simple knots as the finishing touches. When Chris came out of his dressing room, I was so surprised. He looked like a Japanese 1000-koku samurai on his day off!

After we finished dressing and posing for our photos (oi those were rented kimonos - we knocked ourselves out lah) signaled our readiness to the tea house attendant. She ushered us to the waiting house - a small hut with benches and a small square pond) and politely informed us to wait. Before reaching the waiting house, we used a small bamboo long-handled bucket to wash our hands and mouth, and rinse the bucket as well. Once the host was ready, she will come back to fetch us up to the tea house. Maybe it was the washing the hands and mouth action that made me become more quiet and reflective. Chris thought it was the whole kimono-wearing gig.

After 15 minutes (I suppose the host needed to put on HER yukata too, for starters) the attendant shuffled down to meet us. She explained the etiquette of walking up to the tea house; we were only to step on the larger rocks that formed the pathway and not step on the small pebbles around them rocks. We were to walk as softly and soundlessly as possible. The key to the whole experience is to behave at all times in a respectful manner to the host; as it is always a huge honor bestowed on us to be invited to a tea ceremony. It would be natural for the host to deliberate carefully on ever decision. Which scroll to hang on the wall, how to decorate the tea room, which tea pot to use and which bowls to use to serve the green tea. So, in view of how much respect is put in the effort by the host, we as guests need to reciprocate. Guests also must honor the host. Mutual respect must be honest and felt.

If you think that was deep - it's only the beginning! :-) And we were only at the stage of WALKING UP to the tea house!

Once we got to the tea house, we were brought to the side entrance. It's a door that's half the size of our normal doorways. The entrance is raised, like on a Malay kampong house where you only reach the door after climbing up a few steps. When I saw that tiny door I automatically thought I'd have to climb up and crawl through, but the attendant (such a sweet and patient girl) showed us the proper way of entering; we kneeled slightly so that our shins touched the base and we were to use our knuckles outside the body to brace ourselves and to assist in the hauling our bodies through the door. The rationale behind that? To remind all guests that even though the host holds them in the highest esteem, we are still all humans. No matter what our classes/castes/social standing are, every one has to 'crawl' through the door to enter. After we place our samurai swords on the rack outside, of course.

A few minutes' wait in the waiting hall was used by the attendant to explain to us the usage of the different rooms in an authentic tea house. The size of each room is measured by how many tatami mats were needed to cover the floor. I think the tea room was a 6 1/2 tatami mat-room. She briefed us on how to sit without breaking our ankles (the ceremony took about 45-mins) and showed us how to bow to our host properly, while seated. It's rather like our Muslim prayer position where we bring our foreheads to the floor. Elbows were to be kept in, not sticking out ala char-kway-teow upper-cuts. She showed us how to use our thumb and forefinger to measure the distance between our knees and the edge of the tatami mats when we sit.

Upon entering the main tea room, we bowed to the host(ess) and sat. Immediately I felt the hush. I didn't expect it, nor was I prepared for it; I could feel my heartbeat slowing down, my inhales and exhales deeper yet more quiet, my facial muscles soften. In photos taken after the ceremony, I actually looked relaxed, like I just completed full hour of Riyo's Body Balance class that included meditation/relaxation.

The attendant briefed us on how we were to behave to appreciate the room, the hanging scroll, the single red flower in the slender white vase, the delicate bowls from which we would drink our tea. The hanging scroll's calligraphy always represented the mood/tone of the tea ceremony, so they are chosen carefully, always. In this particular instance, the calligraphy on the scroll reflected peace and harmony. We looked at those stuff and bowed our appreciation. We also picked up the bowls and turned it around carefully, to admire the design. Usually, the best bowls would be chosen by the host. They could be heirlooms, part of a set that was handed down from one generation to the next. Some of them could be thousands of years old. Such was the respect for the guests.

Then the tea was mixed. The attendant described the actions in the background. I remember something being said about the bamboo whisk being used to mix the green tea powder into the hot water. Everything was special. Each of the movement was economical, but smooth. How could simple gestures and moves of making tea be so meaningful and calming?

It would take 3 1/2 sips to drink the tea, the last half sip a slight slurp. Before bringing the bowl to the lips, we needed to turn the bowl 2 (or was it 3) times so that our lips would be in the plain side of the bowl and the painted design (flower or fish or whatnot) would be facing out. That was to ensure we kept to the pureness of the design, as the bowl we drank from was to be a vision of unmarred beauty. I've forgotten the proper way to pick up the bowl and hold it though :-)

After finishing the tea, we used the tips of forefinger and thumb along the rim of the bowl to remove any residual lip print, and press those tips on the paper napkin placed next to us, to keep the bowl as clean as possible. I remember the attendant mentioning that some traditional tea ceremonies also would include finger food - mostly sweet deserts - and could take up to 4 hours. Whoa.

I totally did not expect the tea ceremony's impact on me. The calming effect was welcomed, naturally, even though I wasnt sure I would feel it before I got there. But in reflection, I was totally bowled over by the combination of alertness and peacefulness that I felt, sitting there, on the tatami mat. It felt like I was relaxed and calm, but at the same time, ready to spring up and take the head off my oponent, should one would attack. Very strange, but very true.

So this now became my place to retreat to. When I need a quick DIY rebalancing fix, I'd close eyes and return to the tea room, and remember the tranquility. And move on.

Cha no yu and personal places, Pt 1

It's that time again.

If I were a car, I would've sent myself for service, with special attention to wheels realignment and balancing. Ever felt sometimes like there's something inside you that needs to be tweaked a little bit? Fine-tuned? Like even while you're standing on your feet with your heels turned slightly inwards to reflect the size of your hip/bum (at least that's what yoga instructors tell us) there's still something missing to help hold your balance and posture no matter how much you control your breathing and suck in your stomach until you can feel your belly button kissing your spine?

I digress - ah but then -

Remember how we are told to 'go to our special place' when we need a quick DIY rebalancing? It could be the park, a waterfall or the beach; all we need to do is close our eyes, pay attention to our breathing and 'find' ourselves at those places. Being a beach-lover, I'd automatically think of the beach when I want to go to this special place in my head. However, for the past couple of years, I discovered that I can't. I close my eyes, I relax, I focus on my breathing, but I can't see the damn beach - I can't hear the waves pounding the sandy bed, I can't feel the salty wind in my hair and on my face, I just can't. I lost it. So what do I do? I pack my bags and head off to the beach whenever I can. When I'm there, everything's cool. I was in Phuket in July for a business trip, and I took time off in the mornings and evenings to relax at the beach. I enjoy it, truly. I feel the place. I feel the environment. I drink in everything and store it in my mind so that I can retreat to it when needed.

Then I learnt a valuable lesson - hit me like an elephant trunk whacked on my head.

I tried too hard.

That's it - simply put. I tried too hard and I thought too much. I realised that for me the beach is somewhere that I just need to be there to absorb it. So I decided to test the theory. Early Sept I went to Redang island again, this time with 3 other friends. More beach bunny that snorkel and scuba babe, I stayed back while the rest of them snorkeled away. Then I just stopped taking mental notes of and memorizing the rock formation, the foamy waves, the sights and sounds. Then something amazing happened to me. I actually relaxed. I felt very calm and I greeted my friends' return with cheery waves and a smiling face (they were rather taken aback - they always tell me I don't smile enough).

Moral of the story? I have learnt that I still love the beach - loads - but our love affair can only be continued by frequent visits - I need to make my there, be there. I need to feel the sand between my toes. The hot sun on my back. The water on my skin. The salt on my face. I can't re-create in my head the beach that I love. It'd be just a postcard image - 2 dimensional. It's not the same beach that I smell and breathe in and never will be.

And it's ok.

Dedicated to my friends

I took a walk around the world to
Ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere
In the sands of time
I watched the world float to the dark
Side of the moon
I feel there's nothing I can do, yeah

I watched the world float to the
Dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be something
To do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well, will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with
My superhuman might - Kryptonite

You called me strong, you called me weak
But still your secrets I will keep
You took for granted all the times I
Never let you down
You stumbled in and bumped your head
If not for me then you'd be dead
I picked you up and put you back
On solid ground

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with my
Superhuman might - Kryptonite