Amidst the Din and Clamour

I'm at the office now. I had to be in early for a staff meeting (which I was actually on time for, sort of) and then send out press releases for our event on Saturday. We're sending it out today, so it gets into the papers tomorrow - coverage is never very good for press conferences over the weekend - and we have no choice about the timing of the event here - it has to be the weekend.

And now the office is full of a camera crew and the The Firm 2 contestants, directors, etc - as their nth task was to sell Tune Money cards. Dunno who won. My colleague Basil, is judge, jury and executioner.

The boss, who is not used to not being in the limelight has just strolled past on his mobile, to take a look at the action. He has been cooped up in the conference room since our staff meeting.

I was up until five this morning - had a night out with Mary who got back from SP yesterday. We checked out Kianti - this place in Kelana Jaya next to the Kelana Seafood - but only cos Mark was playing there. We bought a bottle of wine - Cabernet Merlot - but it wasn't Wolfblass and didn't have the same effect.

I am bound to think that not all Cab Merlots were created equal.

Mark was on antibiotics, what with his swollen glands and slight fever and a leetle grumpy, in consequence. But one of his singing partners - Sue - rocked up, and he cheered up. He was singing with Victor and it was not bad - but I preferred it when Sue went up and joined them. I first met Mark when he was singing at The Attic with Sue and that is still my favourite combination.

I asked Sue to sing "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt, partly because that was the first song I ever heard them do together, and partly because it suited my mood, but she said she needed the lyrics for that. Come back next week, she said, and I just might.

Will think about it. May not need to binge on alcohol next week.

Mary was a sight for sore eyes.

I wonder if I can sneak out now that I have done the needful with regards to press releases.

I'm not as sleepy as I thought I would be, which is very weird.

Containing Multitudes

You know what I love?

The absence of bitterness when it comes to endings.

As you know I am a past master of endings; I scatter them along my path like daisy petals.

I have the quantity. Now I just need the quality.

A beautiful ending is worth a multitude of good beginnings.

The Lost Kitten

OK I have a rewritten profile and a picture to send out and here I am faffing about with my blog. I went to visit with the powerful lunged kitten a few houses away. She (I am sure it's a she) has been setting up a racket for the past day or so. I found her comfortably ensconced next to a tyre and with a bowl of food laid out for her.

Maybe she's crying because she's lonely and her heart is breaking.

Maybe it is already broken.

OK, I have to get back to work now.

Sweet Obsessions

I stare at the white page. I click onto another window to play some Spider Solitaire. And yet another to youtube Annie Lennox doing a cover of Marley's Waiting in Vain.

OK what was good about today?

I ended up at Concorde (it was either that or be caught in a traffic snarl to beat all traffic snarls in the mother of all storms) so I got to catch Mark perform. All two hours of it. He started off grumpy (what with his swollen glands and nasty cough and searing headache) but cheered up once the music and the applause worked its usual magic. He actually even sang a song he wrote when he was 16 with cheesy lyrics.

Soon the place started filling up and the applause didn't only come for me. Mark is the quintessential performer and he blooms like a water lily in all that attention and affection.

I ended up in Concorde because I had spent nearly the whole afternoon acting as errand girl. There was something to be delivered and nobody to do it. So I did. Only I wasn't quite sure where I was supposed to go - so I ended up going to wrong way, after which I called for directions - my usual backward way of doing things. Once I got the directions, I found I was miles out of my way, so it was turning back in traffic so heavy, that it barely moved. I think I was stuck for close to an hour on one stretch of road alone.

The sky darkened ominously. But there I was, telling myself to live in the moment, the moment, with no past, no future, so the irritation wouldn't crowd in. It kinda worked. Sort of. Anyway after much ado, I found the place and delivered the stuff. And then made my way out as the sky started flinging rain drops on my windshield with wild abandon.

Which is why I decided that I would rather weather the storm with a hot tea in one of those plush sofas at Crossroads. I was going to work on an article that was due three days ago, but the music got to me and I couldn't concentrate. So after typing and deleting the same few lines, like 20 times, I closed my laptop and turned my attention to the funky young singer with the long hair and killer smile. It had a salutary effect on my mood.

Although I didn't go to Backyard today for the continuation.

Obsession, sweet obsession...

Thank You For Being My Friend

Fireflies flickering in the trees; wooden oars moving gently through quiet waters. It's nine in the evening, and the moon is a large orange balloon. We're singing Christmas carols. And then we're silent. There is a breathless hush in the air; a sort of magical knowing.

We know there are fairies in the trees. John saw one. Joseph, being of a more scientific turn of mind, wondered what made the fireflies flicker and whether it is part of their mating ritual.

My friend Addy said it was. She said the females flicker 3 times faster than the male. Hmmmm....

We're the only ones here. It's late and the rest have gone home. Or gone on. Or maybe there were not many here to begin with. It's a Thursday night and it's not a holiday and besides, as Joseph points out, this place is not very well-advertised. The "kelip-kelip" in Kampung Kuantan in Kuala Selangor.

I've been here once before. That was with the sibs and Simon. Using Lonely Planet as our guide (disgraceful konon Malaysians, except for Simon) we tried to find our way to the fireflies, but ended up going miles in the wrong direction on unlighted estate roads. I think I broke out in a cold sweat. I know Jackie snuck some goreng pisang into the car and was eating them quietly because she didn't want to share.

Anyways, having been there once, I thought I could find it again. John (Calica, of Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me fame) and his friend Joseph (otherwise known as Harold and Kumar) were game for an adventure.

So we drove into the night. Getting out of the KL traffic snarl took about an hour. Then we hit the North-South Expressway. After a very short time on that, we turned off at the Sungei Buloh exit.

Now, here's where things get tricky. The directions I got off the Net told me told me I had to go in the general direction of Sg Buloh/Kuala Selangor. I did. But the drive seemed interminable. I gazed at the little clock in the car in some consternation. What if we arrived, after this long, long drive and it was closed?

Despite this growing concern, we chatted lightheartedly about this, that and the other. John is the first of my blogging buddies to land up here. Or at least the first one that I actually got to meet. My friend Vijay is a friend of a blogging buddy, so he's like a blogging buddy, once removed, if you know what I'm saying.

I was feeling better that morning after all the emotional squalls of recent days and wondering why I was feeling this way. My Facebook status update said: "Jennifer is feeling happy for no reason in particular."

Then I received a phone call:

"Hello is that Jenn Jacobs? This is John."

The voice was pleasantly accented. I didn't recognise it.

"John?"

He told me who he was and it was like sunlight bursting through the clouds. Suddenly I knew why I was happy. John, being the modest self-effacing dude he is, asked if we could meet for breakfast the following day. Me, being none of the above, said why not tonight.

Of course, getting to the hotel proved a drama and a half. It decided to storm (after days of bone-dry weather) and KL at rush hour is never pleasant. Factor in a storm on top of that, and the traffic has to be seen to be believed. So, I ended up getting stuck in the famed KL traffic jam, inching forward everytime the traffic lights (and there were a lot of them), changed. Then, having misunderstood the directions the hotel guy gave me, I ended up going in the wrong direction.

I called the hotel again. This time another dude, a smarter, patienter dude, gave me step-by-step directions and I found myself outside the hotel. John and his friend Joseph were sitting inside. They saw me and came out smiling (despite the fact that I had kept them waiting more than an hour after the agreed time).

It was wonderful to finally meet him. (Hint, hint). The two boys were so nice and pleasant and easygoing that taking them around was a treat. They told me they wanted authentic Malay food and I racked my brains trying to figure out a decent place for Malay food. We usually have that at stalls.

Then my furrowed brow cleared. Of course! Rumahku! That was in PJ and now I needed to get out of Tengkat Tong Shin to find my way out. I don't know if the guys noticed but I made several false starts, getting lost in KL traffic, trying to get out. (But of course, I always get lost trying to get out of KL unless I am on Jalan Sultan Ismail itself).

Anyway we finally made it to Rumahku and they let me order - we had butter prawns, mutton porial (my favourite), asparagus belachan and mango kerabu chicken. John said the food was "flavourful" and both he and Joseph really enjoyed it. So did I. Hungry, we all dug in and made short work of the spread.

Then it was time for dessert. I told them we needed to go "mamaking" to get the authentic Malaysian experience. So we would have our teh tarek at a mamak in Bangsar rather than here at a restaurant (which was actually a converted bungalow) with a bathroom that was actually, well, a bathroom. We had cake and ice cream for dessert. It was pretty yummy. Joseph had to finish my chocolate cake because I am a wasteful child...and Jackie and Simon were not there to do the needful.

Anyways, we left Rumahku (literal translation, My House) to head for My Backyard. The guys were pretty easy going and didn't mind that showing them the sights, meant, the sights I always chattered on about in my blog. Mark wasn't there (no matter, I dragged them to Concorde the next day to meet him, although they didn't get to see him perform because apparently he had already finished his set) but they did get to see this band playing, where the lead singer was a pretty young Filipina. At least, I thought she was pretty. And so did one of her raving fans who seats himself right in front of the band (kinda where I sit when Mark is playing) and cheers wildly at every cheesy rendition. John told me the girl wouldn't be considered pretty by Philippine standards and I was surprised.

Anyways, we had our orange juice and two Tiger beers (at least I think the guys had Tiger beers, they may have had Guinness) and chatted over the music. Vijay David was there. He walked in with all nine earrings jingling and I pointed him out to John who has met him elsewhere in these pages. He ignored me. Or at least, I thought he ignored me. Actually, he didn't see me. When he did, he came over and planted a very bristly kiss on either cheek.

We left Backyard to go mamaking...Devi's Corner Bangsar (where else) because I thought the boys should have a Bangsar experience...well, at least Devi's if nothing else. We talked some more - there was just so much to catch up on and they told me they only had one more day in KL after which they were leaving for Singapore.

I mean to say what?

We had the traditional teh tarek and fended off beggars as well as people who tried to sell us Mont Blanc knock-offs. There was a minor drama - a bunch of teenagers showed up and started distributing Clear shampoo samples. They left us out. John and Joseph were cool about it. I felt the steam start to rise. They must have sensed it because they provided us with samples as well. Haha.

Anyways, after mamaking it was back to the hotel, where I parked the car and we chatted for a while. I asked them what they were going to do the next day, and they said, dunno, maybe shop. I asked what their plans were for the night, and they were open...so I said, we should do something different. Hmmm. Different. What ah? That was when I came up with the brilliant plan to go see the fireflies.

The next morning, I had a meeting at the office. Having gotten into bed at one something and passed out at past two, I was very very sleepy. Hence, grumpy. But after going home and getting some shuteye, I was all nicely rested. I had to pick J&J up from KLCC.

(This is the part where I whisked them off to Concorde so they could meet Mark...Joseph said Mark had the folk singer vibe with his long hair and all). Then it was off to Kuala Selangor.

But I told you that part already.

The moon's a balloon.

Yeah, man.

The Turning Point

Pain ceases when you relinquish the struggle. As long as the answer is in the air, as long as you can swing either way, there is pain. Once you have decided one way or another, there is only peace.

I have decided. Now as I saw off the limb and set it on the waters, watching it drift away from me, I wave goodbye without regret. Yeah, there are some things I would have done differently, but what's important is that I did my best.

So no hard feelings, huh?

None.

Waiting In Vain

In sooth I know not why I am so sad.
Antonio, Merchant of Venice

I wish I knew what I wanted. I know what I don't want. But how can life always be defined by what we don't want?

We're near the end, so near, so very near, I can taste it. It tastes of ashes. And I smell ashes in the wind. Acrid, burning, unpleasant, sad. And all those goodbyes never said, rise up in me. All those goodbyes that bleed out into the cadaverous silence.

There are no echoes.

But I need the echoes. I need closure. I need the handshake, the gesture, the finality. I need to part on good terms.

Instead, I see bitterness. I see acrimony. I see hard little bullets glancing off my scars. To form new ones. Always new ones to cover the old ones. Scar upon scar upon scar.

I smell the whisky I will imbibe to forget. In so many anonymous bars. Until the air is no longer translucent.

Nothing is.

Nothing ever is.

Tell me something: How can you see through all this smoke?

I taste the bitter tears. And the bad aftertaste you leave in my heart. You weren't who I thought you were. I created you. Adorned you with qualities you didn't have, never dreamt of having, could never have.

My bad.

My fault.

My fucking lack of judgement.

Always mine!
Always mine!
Always mine.

Stupidity is inherent. Stupidity is what takes me from one moment to the next. Stupidity is what keeps me plodding through mistake after mistake. When all I want to do is give up. And lie in the soft dust, while everything around me crumbles, crumbles, crumbles.

And drift.

Because everybody drifts. And none of this is real. And life is just some cosmic joke and I wish, I wish, I wish I knew what the punchline was.

There's an art to goodbye,
Someday I'll learn it.

One Day More

I slept most of today. Until afternoon. Then up for breakfast. Then past afternoon. I just slept and slept and slept. The air was soporific. That, or I was just tired:

I did not live until today
How can I live when we are parted
Tomorrow you'll be worlds away
And yet with you my world has started

And now I'm up. I watched some TV. Dadda came and sat with me for a while. Jackie called and suggested I come to England in September. I can carry art thencewards and Kit Kats back. (Seems like a fair trade). And we will visit Wales. Or Lake District. Or Cornwall. And eat lemon drizzle and a lemony muffin and roast pork in apple sauce and scones (I love cream teas).

I had dinner with my friend Meera yesterday who said I was so miserable because I was not where I was supposed to be.

Tomorrow we'll be far away
Tomorrow is the Judgement Day
Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store
One more dawn, one more day
One day more....

Waiting to Exhale

It's like we're on two different ships, drifting further and further apart. I wave goodbye. The other ships puffs gamely on, out of sight, ignoring me. I shed a furtive tear. Endings are always painful. I think we even grieve the loss of our tumours.

And today I am in here because of a misunderstanding. I didn't understand a request for meeting. It was supposed to be next Friday. I thought it was this Friday. Which is why, bright and early on a Friday morning I was seated at my desk. To find a very interesting letter.

Intrigue, intrigue, intrigue and more intrigue...

And the people revolve around me, as if in some alternate dimension, and I watch them and don't watch them, and don't appear to be watching them and check my email, and check my Facebook, and check my email, and check his blog where people have written in gushing about his latest speech.

I sigh.

I turn away.

And a colleague plunks himself down next to me and tells me he needs two press releases. This is a very novel way to be told that we need two press releases. It's usually the boss who tells me and then we thrash them out in no time at all. Speedy Gonzales, that's me.

This colleague says with a wicked chuckle: "I heard you went to Marriott yesterday."

He thinks it's a great joke. I don't.

Another colleague stops by my place. Forehead furrowed in concern.

"How are you?"

"OK," I shrug.

A chat with yet another colleague. Pretty enlightening. Who knew that a little office, barely a year old, would be so chockful of politics?

As he talked, I felt myself move further and further away from this place, this space, this air...exhaling.

Always exhaling.

I need to get this out of my system.

At The End Of The Day

I leapt out of bed today, my heart pounding. I had only dropped off past 2, a combination of the heat, the mosquitoes and a mind that would just not quit. What time was that blasted meeting again? 9? 9.30?

I turned on the computer and peered at the screen? Oh sweet Jesus! It was 8.30! And in the middle of KL. And it was already 7.15! A quick shower, no breakfast, throwing on my clothes all anyhow and rushing out. Ugh, 50 minutes more. I would never make it to the Marriott in time. And the jam. Better not to think about it. Just go.

Of course, my tank was only quarter full but there was no time to top it up. It would have to last. I screeched out of the doorway and took off on the long noisy highway. By some stroke of genius (NOT) I decided to take the Jalan Duta way. Got enmeshed in a jam of Malaysian proportions along Jalan Semantan and watched the minutes tick by with a slight trepidation.

Once I got onto Jalan Duta the road had cleared and I leapt ahead. A sleep-deprived head laced with a sense of panic is not the best for rushing to a meeting. So naturally, as I put my foot down to see what that baby could give me, I didn't realise I was heading towards a row of stationary cars, waiting patiently to inch their way out onto the roundabout...I braked, the smell of burning rubber, smoke. The car in front of me, got out of my way. Stopped with inches to spare.

Cold sweat. Shaking. Something impeding my foot. It was the car air freshener. I wondered what would have happened if I had actually crashed. Maybe died. Maybe been injured. All for some stupid meeting I couldn't give less damn about.

Shakily I inched my way forward. Got onto Jalan Kuching where the traffic was heavy. Very heavy. And then the nightmare that is Jalan Sultan Ismail. I looked at the cars upon cars upon cars and cursed the person who came up with the bright idea of having a meeting in the middle of KL at this ungodly hour.

By some miracle I managed to get there only about 10 minutes late. I parked the car and pounded my way to the lift, heavy laptop in tow. Then I got to the lobby and looked around. No familiar faces. Wondered for the first time where in this large hotel the meeting was.

I called MS. She answered, a little surprised.

"Where are you all ah?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm at the Marriott. Where are you guys?"

"The meeting was cancelled didn't you know? We had it yesterday."

Ah. Cancelled. There would have been a notification on the calendar. Except that I switched off my computer by about 7. So I didn't receive said notification.

I sank weakly into one of the sofas, feeling a little sleepy, a little hungry, a little frustrated. A little furious. A little like I was not where I was supposed to be. And I hadn't been, for a long time.

All my fault.

No doubt.

But still...

The Beginning of The End

I woke up in the morning and stared out of my grimy windows. It was hot. It was muggy. It was airless. And it matched my mood to a t.

Yes, this heavy feeling had settled in my belly a long time ago. I had tried to ignore it. Resisted driving off the edge of that lonesome highway to crash into oblivion. Poured strong spirits down my throat. Same reason.

Fell sick. Got better. Fell sicker. Got better. Fell sick again. (If it doesn’t kill you, it can only make you weaker)

So how much more before the last time?

I felt things unraveling. How are you supposed to hold on when the threads are frayed and you can’t weave them back together?

No tapestry.

Only tiredness and dust.

Only smoky airless heat.

I know what I have to do.

And I’m afraid to do it.

Without Country

I was re-reading a letter from an old new friend yesterday. He sounded so happy. He was not happy before. And he gives me hope that as badly as you can work at messing up your life, something changes and voila, everything is back on track, better than it ever was before, and you're singing the Ode to Joy in German. (or whatever European language it is sung in).

It's been a rotten weekend. Bad news filtering in through the cracks. A few jellyfish stings about my writing ability, a goddamned article mocking what I wrote (I didn't see it, not reading the papers over here, but my sainted Mamma kindly told me, when I called to wish her for Mother's Day). And other stuff. Just stuff.

Now I feel myself sinking into a black funk. I want to crawl under my blankets and not come out. I want to cancel all my appointments for tomorrow. I'm not in the mood for cheer (not even the kind you have to assume for company). I want to rage against the heavens, cry, storm, shake my fist and collapse weeping on my newly mopped floor.

Yes, my newly mopped floor.

About the only good thing about this weekend was the fact that I finally got around to cleaning my room and removing acres of dust. No, I didn't find anything I lost in the debris. In fact, I discovered that I lost a few more things that I didn't even know I had lost. Like the beeswax guardian angel candle my friend Beatrix gave me when I spent a few days with her in France, in the springtime.

It was beautiful. Both the candle and Paris.

But then, Paris is always beautiful.

And Malaysia NEVER is.

It's high time I plotted out an escape route. I don't want to end the year the same way I started it.

There is a putrid excresence in the air and it's there every night. The kind of stench you get when maggots feed off a carcass.

Betcha by golly wow...

Rainbows and Scarlet Ribbons

My pay is in today. I logged on to my internet banking account and regarded the figures there with satisfaction. Now, ever since last month, I read about about "managing money" which means I need to divide and apportion the money for various things.

First thing to be cleared is my credit card bill. So I wrote out the cheque and made sure I transferred enough money from my savings to current account. Oh boy, that left a hole. But never mind. I will regard it as a one-off thing. Yes, one off. (Chubs, you still haven't paid me yet, you pandi!)

Then I shifted money across accounts for other stuff (like the delayed gratification account) and will be transferring a little to the "financial freedom account". I am pretty chuffed that last month, I actually made my first investment. Now, for someone who has never bought so much as a stock on the exchange, this is a pretty big deal. The company wrote to me and asked if I'd like to go for an investment talk this coming weekend but I had to decline with regret. I can't go home for weekends until I finish the present yoga card and choose different days for my yoga practice as I've decided I'd rather offend God than my yoga instructor. God would forgive me. The yoga instructor will just freeze me off. (I am a huge coward and coldness works better than anything else for controlling purposes, that is, until I cotton on to the fact that you're being cold on purpose to modify my behaviour).

I also wrote out two cheques for my "giving" account. I'm pretty pleased to have found charities that I like very much and I actually want to support. (To say nothing of the tax deduction benefits, which I only realised this year when Chubs, who was doing my taxes asked, what charities have you contributed to, and I shrugged, dunno, and asked why, and he said, it's a deduction, and I said, oh)

I love my filing cabinet. It holds my tax files, my book receipts and contribution receipts and all the stuff I need for next year. It's about the only thing that's neat in my nightmare of a room. I think tomorrow, I will have to work at cleaning it. It's really a disgrace and I cannot think in there. I mean, I haven't written anything in years. Literally. Because everything is so cluttered. Yuck!

Oh well, once more into the fray...

Spices and Condiments

So life is picking up, becoming interesting. I love my yoga classes. By the way, I missed two classes (the first time it was my fault, the second time, it was work and I didn't have no choice) and I discovered that missing yoga without informing the instructor beforehand is not a good idea. I went yesterday and he was furious with me in that quietly Zen way of his.

"Well, well, well," he said, when I rocked up smiling. "You said you wanted a detox class and I did one and you were not there." Pause. I looked at the floor. I didn't have any excuse. I didn't wake up for yoga class because I was out partying till six in the morning. I didn't wake up till noon the next day. And my class was 10.30. You see what I mean?

(Note to self: No more late nights out on Saturday. As long as I have Sunday morning class)

Then on Tuesday I had to go to Bukit Jalil as Zafrul was giving a speech. He was addressing the Yayasan Tun Razak, that is these bright young specially selected youngsters (18-year-olds) from all over the country. He was pretty good. He engaged with the crowd and those kids were lovely. They were bright and enthusiastic and funny and their energy just spilled over.

Although I was not too thrilled to be missing yoga again, I was kinda glad I went (or was forced to go). Those kids were just the antidote I needed for a day of bad and worse news which had me angry and heartbroken and confused at the same time.

The thing about bad news is you are not supposed to let it get you down. You're supposed to hold on to the dream, despite the surrounding chaos and destruction.

I just got a call from a friend. I recommended her company for a project not too long ago (remember that I'm the hook-up girl and I hook people up?) and she called to tell me that they got the account. And they want to give me a finder's fee. I was blown away. I've helped and introduced many people to potential funders or clients. This is the first time anyone has come back to me like this.

It's the thought.

It makes me feel so good.

Changes

There is something in the air. Remember how Mary Poppins flew away when the wind changed? That's what I feel like right now. Except that I always feel like flying away and never feel like staying put. I was born discontented and three feet from my body, trying to stay, looking to run.

Most times, I trip.

Most times, I fall.

First there was peace.

Then there was the churning (like butter).

And then there was change.

Isn't that always the way?

This Way To Hell

I can no longer rationalise my life. It doesn't make sense. It just fucking doesn't make sense. Everything is discrete, digital rather than analog. Events are non-connected, just little bumps on the road, no continuity, no one thing leading to another.

I must be seriously fucked up inside to have created this mess.

I'm sweltering. It's so hot. I can't take how hot it is. I can't take the heat waves that keep emanating from me. I can't take this perpetual burn.

Everything melts in this heat.

EVERYTHING!

They Say Her Face Was White As Rain

I feel tired and washed out. I had an accident earlier today and it was totally my fault. I was having an angry conversation on the phone while negotiating a very busy roundabout and I suddenly felt the car jerk from impact. I had hit the car in front of me. I hastily got off the phone and chucked it on the co-driver's seat to confront the blazing eyes of a very irate mother. She had her two small kids in the car. If we hadn't been practically stationary, there may have been serious consequences to my stupidity.

We parked there, at one of the busiest roundabouts in the whole of Malaysia and she growled at me: "Why did you hit my car...why did you hit my car." It was a little Kancil and there was a slight dent at the boot. I didn't want to stand there arguing so I started to offer her money to settle it.

Thank goodness I had a few hundred in my wallet at the time (courtesy of Jackie) and figured that it would cost about at most RM150 if she chose to repair it. As she was interested in how the accident had come about, I was more interested in terminating the scene. I took out my wallet and gave her RM200. After a few more rhubarbs she got back into the car and drove off.

I was badly shaken and had to find my way to the place I was going. It was very hot on the outside, and I was a freaking geyser on the inside. I got to the place (an artist's house) and tried to make small talk. She gave me ice water which I downed and kept downing and she topped up my glass.

Everything felt hot and sticky and just plain awful.

I drove home after, not feeling all that much better.

Then I watched one of the Jane Austen DVDs Mary lent me - Persuasion - and somehow that simple gentle story, penetrated this black funk that pervaded my being.

Something has to give.

I hope it's the sky.

We could use some rain.

Walking In This World

I'm sitting at the lobby of the Putrajaya International Convention Centre. The boss is here to shoot the opening montage for his appearance as The Terminator (the CEO for the last four episodes) in The Firm 2. It involves a lot of standing around and looking cool. I got bored watching, so here I am with my laptop plugged into one of the numerous power points (they are numerous but inconveniently situated), taking advantage of the excellent wi-fi provided. (I think all of KL should be wifi-ed, that way we will always be connected to our blogs and our Facebook, what else is there?)

OK Zafrul is now doing his opening shot which involves walking through automatic doors and answering his Blackberry. (The most natural shot of him, I think)

He told me his speech in Kuwait went OK. Thing is, the three other speakers on his panel spoke in Arabic. He was the only one to speak in English and everyone had these little earphones for translation purposes. He said his speech at PNB had gone better. Thing is, it's over, and he is not really interested in going through either to give me feedback about audience response.

All the contestants for The Firm 2 are sitting around. They look like a particularly serious bunch. One of them is so tall and formidable that I'm actually a little intimidated by her. They're all in suits. And here I am in my jeans and crumpled Tune Money polo shirt. They look tired. They've been shooting since about seven this morning. It's now past noon. (I think we've been booked to be here until 2 but I can't be sure).

I used the new highway to get to Putrajaya. It cost only RM2.50 in tolls (OK all roads lead to PLUS) which was not bad (considering) and it was fast and traffic was so very light. I wish I had used this way to get to the airport before. Next time I will.

It's funny that the most glamorous shot of CEOs these days is one of them walking while conversing on their Blackberries, heads furrowed in concentration, because they are so important that they have to be constantly in meetings, even while walking.

Stuff Like That

I miss Jackie. She's gone back to England (although she called and spoke at length). I miss Mary. She's gone back to SP.

But it was a peaceful day nonetheless. Started off with yoga at ten in the morning where I failed to distinguish myself (so what else is new). Then I came home and sweltered in this unmitigated heat (no, no rain, no rain at all, what is up with the universe?) and sweated, showered, sweated some more, showered some more). Then in the evening I took myself off to my yoga centre for a night of "musical healing". This guy plays various ragas on a flute. Each raga is meant to stimulate a different emotion (happiness, peace, etc).

We had to intone some notes to stimulate various chakras in ascending and descending order.

Then lie back and listen.

It was so good.

I fell fast asleep. I may have even snored. I came back up to the surface when Van (the owner of Yoga2Health)'s voice parted the mists of sleep. She urged us to do a namaste, open our chakra centre and send peace and love to various countries and people. If you're reading this, you were probably on the receiving end).

Anyway I emerged from there very peaceful. I think that all this healing makes me feel good temporarily because what's broken is still broken. I need to heal the cause rather than the effect. Sweep up the broken glass. Dissolve my pain body. You know, stuff like that.