Monday, March 30, 2009
In the last coupla years, my 'paint-the-town-red' outings have decreased dramatically. No more going out just because. No more 3 or 4 times a week alcoholic binge. No more can't-stay-home feeling. No more I-must-go-out-cos-it's-Friday-nite too! These days, only a few things will get me out of the house. The list of course excludes the must-dos like going to work Monday-Friday, meal times and all chores like servicing the car and stuff.
- Anything dive related, so that includes going for classes, dive trips, and therefore this also includes (yay!) going out with the persons involved!
- Movies at GSC.
- Weekend gallivanting at the mall where I pick up groceries, toiletries, and the odd shoe/bag/dress.
- Late at night Starbucks indulgence
- And good friends.
On 'good friends', and my desire to document this...
A good night's out with awesome company should result in this:
- An aching stomach from laughing too hard, too loud, too often
- A dry throat (from talking and laughing too much)
- An all-round warm and cosy feeling
- A slightly woozy feeling from having one too many drinks (heh!)
And yes, Brana, we missed you!
Posted by Doreen at 5:15 pm
Saturday, March 21, 2009
I never really knew when my love for large masses of water kicked in.
At home, I'd find all these photos of little me in my swimming gear and floaties on both my arms, waddling about in baby pools of hotels and resorts we visited. A lot of the picures had dad playing in the water with us too. There are also quite a number of photos depicting us sisters in our inflatable pool on the verandah of our house in Cibinong, a small town in West Java. My swimming teacher, Ricky gave me swimming lessons in a public pool in Johor Bahru when I was 7. Horrid man, that Ricky. He used to lift me up in the air and then throw me into the water at the deep end of the pool. My short arms and legs would began moving frantically, swimming either the freestyle or breast-stroke. I prefer the latter, as freestyle makes water go into my ear when I tilted it out of the water sideways. Growing up, we had the occassional family trips to Ferringhi and even a family holiday to the States where we visited Hawaii. Cottesloe beach in Perth was a favourite haunt of mine during the warmer months. I loved how the public toilet and bath facilities at Cottesloe were clean and well maintained. Then, when I started working, I was taking all these holidays to Tioman and Perhentian to be by the sea. Of course, it eventually led me to discovering scuba diving. Or perhaps, being a Piscean might have something to do with my love for water. On a trip to Perhentian once, I went jungle trekking. No need for you to know why I did it. The guide said that it was an uphill terrain, but I was not to worry because it is an 'easy trail'. I nodded, but a tight knot was forming in the deep of my stomach. I changed out of my rashguard into a dry t-shirt, my boardshorts almost dry now, slapped on sunscreen and slipped on my pair of Crocs... and thus the journey began.We walked past the other resorts and then came to the foot of a hill. Trees towered above, and leaves and roots were all about. In front of me, a tiny 'path' visible. I tried to think positive, and the guide led the way in. He was nimble and so sure-footed as he made his way into the bush and trees, and I kept up well. We went up, up, up... and at this point, I could already feel the build up of lactic acid in the muscles of my thighs and calves. Then, after what seemed like 15 minutes, the terrain started going downwards. Going downhill was tougher because I had to hold on to trees and rocks as I stepped onto muddy soil to avoid me slipping and thus rolling down. Another 15 minutes passed and we arrive at a beach. I was drenched in sweat, and panting like a hog. Wow! I made it! "Itu tak kira, trekking kita start dari sana," (That wasn't it, our trek starts there) said he while pointing to the foot of yet another hill a few hundred metres of where we stood. Whaddya mean that wasn't it? I looked at the jungle which we had just emerged from, and there was no way I was going to turn back alone. Dejected and beaten, I followed on, but without first gulping huge mouthfuls of water. "Don't drink so much, you'll get cramps!" said someone."Oh screw you!" I said under my breath.Oh yes, the trek was an uphill terrain alright. I had to take big steps, holding onto to roots and trees to hoist my fat bum upwards. At the same time, whenever my hands were available, I used them to swat away mosquitos which were EVERYWHERE. "Ini pokok.. blah blah blah...." (This is blah blah blah tree...), but I was busy panting and swatting.
I felt the trees closing in, and a big fat cobra will spring out to attack poor old me. Or worse, to have a spider crawl up the nape of my neck. I hated it. I almost cried. My teal-coloured Crocs were soiled in yellow mud. We stopped to rest at the peak of the hill but that didn't last for very long because standing motionless made us very sexy to mosquitos, and so we continued downhill. After an eternity (translate: 1.5 hours) we arrived at the intended destination. A pretty strip of beach at Flora Bay. The blue sea spread out before me and there were some boats by the shore. I toyed with the idea of leaving them to hike back, while I paid a couple of ringgit to take a water taxi back to our resort. Alas, that was not to be. After a short rest of 15 minutes, the guide declared that we were to now trek back. "What? Now? Can't we rest a while more?" I tried motivating (conning) myself. "C'mon Doreen, you made it here, you're gonna make it back! You can do this!" And so off we went. The task of hoisting my fat bum upwars became even tougher as my body was now physically tired. And when we took a step downwards, I felt like my knees would crack under that pressure. "Hah... dengar tak bunyi tu? Itu bunyi blah blah blah..." (Can you hear that? It's the sound of blah blah blah), the guide said. I could only hear the sounds of waves crashing in the distance, and how I would give anything to jump off this hill and to swim back to where we came from. After a total of 3 hours of trekking, I made it out of the jungle alive to tell you this story. 'Twas my first ever jungle trek. And if I had a choice, my last. Gimme the water anytime, I'll swim round the island if you ask me to! I cannot do jungles.
Posted by Doreen at 12:07 pm
Friday, March 20, 2009
I am a year... wiser. For today, I turn 28. When my parents called me earlier this morning, and after wishing me a happy birthday, they said to me, "Not young anymore ah!" I giggled. I didn't know what to say, nor do I know what emotions should I be exhibiting. Am I really that old? My parents had me when they were 30 and 31 respectively, and now they are both nearing 60. I must have aged with them. A couple of days ago, a 13-year old boy and I were chatting. After some minutes, he told me, "You don't speak like an adult. You're like a teenager!" I reveled in his statement. I gave him a pat on his head and thanked him for his very nice compliment.Hah! I am not that old! At my age, some already have their plans laid out. If they don't, they are already starting to look into the future and to plan for it. And yet, I am still unsure of mine. Where do I go from here? Do I continue being a corporate slave? Do I get married and have kids? Do I continue driving my beaten old Kenari or buy a new car? Do I start investing? Do I put money aside for rainy days? Honestly, these things don't thrill me at all, and thinking about it scares me. So I don't. You can say I'm running away from 'growing up'. Maybe. But hey, I am happy. Are you? Yes, despite all the 'grown up issues' that accompany me as I age, and the uncertainties that loom above before me, I am as happy as the bright sunshine that makes the sea glisten and warms the sand between your toes. Having said that, there are some measures I take to help me preserve my youth. I laugh out loud very often. I adore myself and the way I look, think, sound, and feel. (Yes, despite complaining now and then about how fat my bum is!) I love. I get healthy doses of vitamins for the soul, sunshine and fresh air when I run off to the beach and go underwater. And I use anti-ageing products. :) Happy Birthday to me.
Posted by Doreen at 11:46 am
Friday, March 13, 2009
Ever seen a chinaman drink red wine? I have.
The waiter removed the cork and delicately poured a splash of red wine into Chairman Sun’s glass. His frog face twitched with suspicion as he smelled the wine, tasted it and – after another breathless moment – nodded his approval.(Excerpt from My Favourite Wife by Tony Parsons)
The waiter half-filled Chairman Sun’s glass with Burgundy. Then the Chairman topped it up with the can of Sprite in front of him, took a long slurp and exhaled with pleasure.
Posted by Doreen at 6:01 pm
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
What happens when a pilot thinks he's flying a plane when he's actually on the road?
Posted by Doreen at 9:36 am
Friday, March 06, 2009
On roads which are meant for one-lane flow of cars on each side, a lot of you assholes out there are rushing to get incarnated and thus form a second lane of your own. Further up the road, this second lane end up having to merge back with the first lane of cars. I get pissed off at those drivers who formed that 'illegal' second lane. So what do you do? A. You join the illegal second lane so you can get reincarnated faster. B. You stay put and wait patiently in your original first lane. C. You do what I do.
Posted by Doreen at 11:44 am