Monthly Archives: April 2009
Screeched my boss. On my last day.
Don’t worry friends, he isn’t lusting over me. Even if he was, soooo don’t want to know. *thinks of happy things, like ponies and fairies and 3 minutes of Part 2 Awkward.
Here’s how I got my boss screeeching that at 4:50pm :
M* : I made a new twitter friend! See, I have actual friends now, unlike you. You’ve got IMAGINARY friends.
D : Oh, do you now.
M* : Yes. And my friend offered to send me a tank top that he designed caused I practiced some link loving! Isn’t that sweet?
D : Wait, how’d you meet this friend?
M* : We both practice Bikram Yoga. And follow each other on Twitter.
D : Uh, and he’s sending you the top. To your house.
M* : No, he’s sending it to an orphan in Namibia. No shit, Watson.
D : Well see, now that he knows where you live, one day he’s gonna come over and stalk you and say : GIVE ME YOUR NAKED PICTURES!
M* : AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! 😯 But, people who practice Bikram Yoga aren’t crazies.
D : Says who? Just look at what I have to deal with in the office.
M* : 😀
It’s my last day at my workplace. Maybe even my last day ever as a copywriter. I hope to freelance, sell a kidney and some liver [it’s the ONLY organ in the body that can replicate] before making my way to pursue my dream.
Fine, since everyone *cough Yippie cough* thinks that my writing still reeks of emo-ness, may I direct your attention to this theatrical reel :
Swoon, Edward, swoon!!!!
Now excuse me while I try to hold my beating heart still.
I have received some feedback about my blog from colleagues today.
Jook : Your blog is BORING. All you ever talk about is work and Bikram Yoga.
Yippie : Why are you so emo on your blog? Does your boss know that you’re emo-ing him?
Dawn : You blog?
Even our ex-colleague was so kind as to say : Why is Mei’s blog so emo-like? It’s stale!
I’ve had enough! How DARE you insinuate that my blog is a putrid petri dish consisting of hot sweaty Shakti yoga shorts sloshed with a healthy and depressing dose of work?!
Fine, okay, you’re right. It is. I shall hereby blog about my cat, Bella.
Click here to read about Bella’s [then Salabhasana] first few days in my humble abode.
Why did I rename her Bella? Well, Salabhasana was too long, said Kelvin. Plus before I could finish s aying her name she’d dart out of the room to hide under the sofa. Or chair. Or box.
Bella is now a fat, happy [I think], mischevious cat. Kel and I spayed her in January because I wasn’t ready to become a grandmother at the tender age of 23. Plus, I don’t want other cats being chased and nipped by my labrador and golden.
Bella is a very smart cat that came from the ‘hood. She once nibbled my mum’s toes while mum was sleeping. Naturally mum moved her toes away and chided Bella. “Stupid cat”, she said. Bella then jumped up on the stool where mum’s feet were, and slept on it. That wench. I swear she nibbles on our toes when we’re sleeping just to piss us off. Or stomp on our stomachs/face to announce that she’s hungry.
Bella is also my very own personal alarm clock, as she comes in to my room at 7:40am sharp to meow, nudge me and demand [nicely] that I fill up her food bowl, or else.
I’ve never found out what the other “or else” is, because once she stuck her butt in my face. Can you imagine waking up to a furry butt in your face?
Bella is also a very high-class kitty, for one who was found by the roadside. She ONLY ever eats salmon or cod fish. We tried bribing her once with the cheaper pomfret, but she turned her nose up at it and ran away. A veritable case of divaness has caught up with my kitty. I’m starting to suspect she idolises Jennifer Lopez or Mariah Carey and watches E! news when we’re not home. In fact, she’s so high classed, she sometimes won’t drink water out of her bowl but hop onto my mum’s mini water fountain feature and generously lap water from the spout. “Hmm, that’s why the water level has been falling so fast recently” my mum said. And before she started taking to water features, she ONLY drank water from a bowl that was filled with crystals. Yes, this kitty is certainly no Jenny from the block.
Bella also HATES cuddles with a passion. She’d meow loudly in protest when you’d pick her up. However, she does enjoy a good round or two of pats. By pats I mean, hitting her bum softly like you’re gently beating a down pillow into shape.
This is my owner sleeping on the rattan chair. Note the ridiculous amount of towels on the left plus 2 more towels she’s sleeping on. This is the result of too much Bikram Yoga over the weekend.
I wasn’t kidding when I said she drinks from the mythical fountain.
The stars drink Kristal, she drinks crystal water.
Shh. Don’t piss the guardian off.
She ONLY sleeps this way. Legs akimbo, arms wide open. Mum reckons it’s cause she always sees us sleep this way [I do NOT sleep like this!], that’s why she imitates us.
Have you ever seen a cat with no manners at all? Tsk tsk. Plus look at the multi coloured bear in the foreground of the picture. That’s her favourite toy. By favourite I mean she drags it by the neck all over the place, up the stairs, on to the sofa [where it is in the photo], to the kitchen, to the study room, to my room.
When we first brought out the teddy bear she rushed to her playpen, dragged out her pink fluffy fish toy, ran up to teddy and presented it to him. Too cute, too ridiculous, but true.
And that is all about Bella.
I have recently invested my liver for 2 pairs of shorts and 2 super hot tops from Shakti Activewear. Although tops aren’t a concern for me [I can always buy Reebok tops, which are cheaper and good in their own way], I am nevertheless more concerned about shorts. Practicing Bikram Yoga in 40ºC heat wearing 3/4 pants and a crop top is akin to jumping into a river and doing 20 backstrokes all before running around in the Sahara. Also, by the end of class, your clothes get super heavy and weighs you down when you’re trying to fly away in full locust [Poorna Salabhasana]. Urgh.
So glad that Rina brought in a few pieces of Shakti Activewear! Oh Rina, when you go, who’ll be our source of sexy shorts, sexy tops and eye candy? But I digress.
Behold, me modelling my Shakti Activewear shorts and tops.
Bearing in mind that I wear a size S, and the shorts DO get shorter halfway through class thanks to all the intense stretching. But fret not, no ass cheek came out [says she with no ass], neither did I flash anyone else in class my genitalia. These Shakti shorts STAY PUT where they’re supposed to be!
If you’re wondering why my navel looks weird [ok if you weren’t, I’ll tell you anyway], it’s cause I had a navel piercing which didn’t sit too well, plus another scar from a laproscopic procedure to remove my appendix. If only I could sell it to raise funds for Teacher Training ..
The top I’m wearing in this photo is a halter neck top, with adjustable strings for women who are blessed with a more bountiful bounty. As I was. A slight push-up guaranteed to bring the girls out to town, I didn’t quite like the strings on the front as sweat pooled there and went up my nose during Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee. Maybe I ought to retie it before class. The halter neck is a tied halter, which allows for adjustability. Again, I found it to be a wee bit disturbing as the knot got in the way of my backward bend [or any other posture that requires neck work, eg Camel].
I didn’t get it right in this photo. I should be sitting down lower with my left hand more to the left, just a wee bit. This is why you need to look in the mirror before you look up! And shoulder always to the chin! If you’ve got a flexible cervical spine [like me], this posture is easy peasy. Not only does this posture help open up your hips, it also helps to stretch and stregthen your cervical spine.
As you can see, no camel toe, no ass coming out, no weird or odd looking privates making a guest appearance. Excuse the white tag that’s sticking out under my right boob. It’s the Shakti Activewear tag, and I have no intention of cutting it off lest the sharp edges irritate my delicate skin.
On a side note, ARGH my boyfriend cropped my left foot out of the photo 😦
The shorts sit really, really, really low on the hip. So low, you can see my full tattoo during class. But like I said, it still covers up all bits perfectly. I like the backview of this blue top. And wow, I can see my scapula in this photo.
Excuse my right knee, it should be pushed further back to get both knees in one line.
My spiderback top! Nice, bright flouro pink, I had to soak this top in vinegar lest it stains my white towels a pale shade of pink. Well, during class yesterday, I dripped pink sweat onto my pristine white towels. Argh! Back to the vinegar vat…
And no, that isn’t cellulite you see on my thighs. I was sitting on a rattan chair which resulted in blemished-looking thighs.
I ran out of postures to do that would perfectly show the front, so this came about. As you can see, perfect boob coverage in the spiderback top.
I also just wanted to show off my 2 pack. Hah!
In short : Shakti Activewear = the way to go! Comfortable, lightweight, easy to wash, fast to dry, sexy and fits nicely on my miniature hips.
Cons : Dyes may be too strong, super expensive.
If only they sell Shakti Activewear here in Malaysia 😦
It has come to my attention that I have an oddly proportioned body.
Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s just my eyes, but in this picture I look like I’ve got long legs and a horrendously short torso. Oh, the cruel joke that is life. This is why Stretching Pose is such a bitch to me, and I’ll never quite get my head on top of my feet for Pada-hastasana.
But behold! My pink Shakti Activewear Spider Back top and black Shakti Activewear shorts. Wore the shorts to class yesterday, and I must say I’m very pleased that I invested part of my liver for it. *beams
On another note, take a closer look at the photo. When doing a backbend [I couldn’t do a full backbend because I *just* had a big bowl of pasta for dinner], ALWAYS lock your knees, point your fingers upwards like you’re going to touch the ceiling, and drop drop drop your head back like it’s going to roll off. A really macabre pointer : Imagine you’re Mary, Queen of Scots / Marie Antoinette or the best, Nearly Headless Nick. Just imagine that someone has decapitated you, and your head is hanging by a thread on the base of your neck. Let it roll roll roll all the way off. THEN, slowly bend backwards. I’ll post a pic of me doing a full backbend when my stomach isn’t that bloated.
I’ve been thinking about this thing I want to do for the past 7 months or so. This ‘thing’ that I want to do WILL cost me money [oodles and poodles of it], time [9 weeks to be exact], travel [to Palm Springs, California] and leaving a workplace / industry whereby late nights are a norm, drinking and smoking up in search of ‘creativity’ is to be expected.
Basically, I’m sick of feeling sick. I am sick of feeling even more tired when I wake up. I hate it when my carpal tunnel rears its ugly head again whilst I try to quickly churn out copy after copy for clients, I hate staying up till 2,3,4am in an attempt to hopefully sell the client our idea, which will then be used to sell their products to you, my fellow reader. I have had enough of being called crap by my boss. I am disheartened that some people think that staying late into the night at the office is a cool thing to do [“I stayed till 5am dude!”]. I fear for the young talents who come joining this industry expecting glitz and glamour and get nothing of that.
I want to be a Bikram Yoga instructor.
I can hear someone incredulously screeching “WHAT?!”, maybe someone else is spitting coffee / whisky all over the monitor.
I now hear “Why’d you want to leave an industry that you’ve only been working in for THREE years? Maybe you should go work somewhere else; maybe your current boss can’t teach you anything; maybe your boss is just a jerk, you’ll meet nicer people along the way”.
Yes, I’ve only been a copywriter for 3 years [and won an award or two along the way, but really, it’s icing on the cake].
Yes, maybe I should join a bigger agency and learn a few tricks of the writing trade along the way.
Yes, maybe my boss is a jerk who deserves to hold Awkward 2nd part for 3 minutes.
But I still remain disillusioned. Jaded even, if you will. Only after 3 years.
It was last year when I found myself in the hot room. I’ve been practicing yoga for 4 years, and I expected to do the same old same old postures in a heated room. Boy oh boy was I sorely mistaken. In my very first class, I fell on my ass once [during Standing Separate Leg], wobbled and toppled out of postures plenty of times and gaped like a fish for fresh air.
And I loved it.
If copywriting fed my body [copywriting = get a pay check = buy food = feed the hungry writer!], then Bikram Yoga certainly nourished my soul. Within a few months, I had no more Carpal Tunnel. Sinus? So long, sucker! Weak / wobbly ankles [a by-product of being too flexible is that you tend to have weaker ankles, no thanks to over-flexible tendons and ligaments and what not. Shar Mayne my physio friend, please correct me!], goodbye! Along the way, I’ve also learnt to be more patient [I’m still working on my anger management issues] and not to mention, my tolerance level has shot up. Though driving on Malaysian roads is another matter…
It was September last year that the stray thought of attending Teacher Training [at that time in Mexico] took place in a vacant spot in my head. Pretty easy, really, since I’m such a blonde … Till I got wind of how much it’ll cost me [I calculated a kidney, plus surrogacy for 1.42 couples]. The good news is that Teacher Training has been relocated to California, meaning I’ll pay less for flight, but probably more for food. And I won’t get to habla espaNol.
7 months on, and I’m even more determined to go. If I can’t get a loan from a bank [since I’m going to be jobless in 8 days], and the parental units won’t want to sponsor me [which I’ll pay back, naturally], the last option would be either
a – fundraising.
b – social escort ‘cept that I don’t have the looks, tits, or ass going for me. Although I could probably astound them with a backward bend or an elbow twist …
c – sell my left kidney
d – surrogacy HEEELOOOO stretchmarks and 6 months of no Bikram Yoga.
e – sell my eggs Hello, would you like the genes of a linguist who so happens to be a writer? Blondeness mandatory, blonde hair optional
Here’s hoping that I make it to Palm Springs for Fall 2009 Bikram Yoga Teacher Training. It’ll be 9 weeks in good ol’ USA [I hope visa application won’t be a pain in the nuts], twice a day practising with 300 over yogi/nis from every nook and cranny of the 3rd rock from the sun, and I heard Bikram himself loves to keep students up till the wee hours watching Hindi movies.
*IF* someone decides to fund at least a portion of TT, I’ll name my first child after you. Regardless of gender I can’t imagine a girl named say, Raymond …
p/s : The shitty part about copywriting, may I add, is that I’ve been wrapped up being too many ‘voices’ in one day that I’m starting to lose my sense of identity as a writer…
Don’t lie, you know what the signs of practicing Bikram Yoga are. Asides from glowing perfec complexion, a bounce in every step, needing to eat and sleep less and looser fitting clothes [guilty, guilty, guilty!], you will start to use the dialogue in your daily life.
That’s right folks, phrases like “Japanese ham sandwich”, “eventually, in the future”, “flower petal blooming” and “solid, concrete, one piece unbending unbroken” start to permeate your daily vocabulary. Let me illustrate how :
“Japanese ham sandwich”
Dialogue : From the side you should look like a Japanese ham sandwich, no room or gap for light or air.
In real life : “I feel like a sandwich. Maybe a Japanese ham sandwich will fill me up”.
When I first heard the phrase “Japanese ham sandwich” in class, I nearly fell out of the posture laughing. What on EARTH is a Japanese ham sandwich? And why Japanese? Why not Chinese ham sandwich, Bulgarian ham sandwich, or even better, a North Korean ham sandwich? Racist!
It was after 30daysofBikram on Twitter pointed out, a Japanese ham sandwich is simply a piece of ham slapped in between 2 slices of white bread, as shown below
There’s really no gap for light or air there!
“Get back in”
Dialogue : “If you fall out of the posture, get back in”
In real life : “GET BACK IN LINE” / “GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE” / “GET BACK IN THE OFFICE NOW!”
You know this line very well. Heavily repeated during Standing Bow Pulling Pose. You fall out, get back in, get back in, get back in. Fall once you’re human. Get back in and finish in the posture, you’re a yogi/ni.
“Eventually, in the future”
Dialogue : “Stretch forward, and eventually, in the future, you will touch your forehead to the knee”.
In real life : “Eventually, in the future, you will reap the rewards of your investment” / “Eventually, in the future, he’ll get what’s coming to him”
Such a commonly overused phrased in our daily lives, dont you think?
“Solid, concrete, one piece, unbending, unbroken”
Dialogue : “Lock your knee! Your leg should be solid, concrete, one piece, unbending, unbroken YOU DO NOT HAVE A KNEE!”
In real life : “This is a solid concrete, one piece, unbending, unbroken idea” / “The strat for this plan isn’t concrete, one piece, unbending, unbroken enough I reckon” / “May I have one piece unbending, unbroken of chocolate, please?” / “Your unbending, unbroken will” / “Unbroken , YOU DO NOT HAVE A KNEE lines should be in this visual”
Don’t roll your eyes. You know it’s true!
Now now, don’t try to tell me I need to get out of the hot room, because we all know that it’s impossible. Maybe I need to scrub my head clean and try each class as though I’m a first timer, all over again. I suppose this is good training should I go for teacher training in September, minus the fact that I don’t have enough money to pony up for tuition 😦
That was the lesson that our parents have probably ingrained into us. Then again, our parents have told us to be wary of strangers, to beware the “strange looking person” who’d kidnap us and sell us to Thailand in a blink of an eye.
Admit it, we’ve been guilty of stereotyping / forming an opinion of someone when we first meet them, hence the term ‘first impressions’. While I steadfastly hold true to it, I do try not to judge the person before I really get to know them. Until that person has proved worthy, or royally pissed me off, that is.
What if I showed you a picture of Susan Boyle, who took part in Britain’s Got Talent (BGT)?
I’ll be dead honest with you. My first thoughts were “Oh GOD she’s gonna crash it, this is going to be like another train wreck, oh no!”. You know, that feeling when you watch someone walking in to audition on American Idol, and you get those tingly goosebumps when they start singing because it’s just so bad!
Well, my dear 5 1 reader, I would like you to watch how Susan Boyle performed at the audition for BGT. She attempts to sing “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables. Sorry it’s a link and not an embedded video, cause I can’t find any video on YouTube that allows me to embed it. 😦
I promise, you won’t be disappointed.
p/s : Shall blog more about my clinic when I do have the time. Or energy. Ay caramba.
After doing doubles plus a Bikram Yoga workshop today, and having to battle a sore throat + runny nose, my immune system has gone on a strike.
It also didn’t help that by my second class I was cramping up and feeling numb, a sure sign of lack of electrolytes / dehydration, meaning that I won’t be able to do doubles tomorrow. 😦
I’ll listen to my body, not my ego, the next time.