Monthly Archives: September 2009
Allright, will be away for 9 weeks – life changing soul shaking mind bending body crushing change etc etc metaphor – so please visit my teacher training blog here.
four more hours. eek! As they say, “When in trouble or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.”.
Doing it the Bikram way means “Chilling the fuck out, breathe through your nose and go have a Guinness”.
p.s : I WILL SEE YOU MICHELLE!
As it is my last weekend in KL before heading off to TT, decided to haul ass down to the city centre to get my flat-ass kicked in advanced class – only because I will miss Jakob and his wicked sense of humour.
Gonna digress a little here – he can’t believe that some local political party *COUGH C OUGH* is against Beyonce coming over to perform because she’s ‘sexy’. “Not because she’s black or anything?” asked Jakob incredulously. “Nah, it’s cause she’s SEXY and will cause us to have slack morals yada yada yada” I replied while setting up for Pigeon. They pulled the same excuse with Gwen Stefani, Pussycat Dolls, Rihanna… and even had the nerve to say that Michael Learns to Rock is deviant. Honestly, what’s wrong with the song “25 minutes”?!
“But you know, I’ve seen WORSE advertising around the mall – and some girls dressing up with half their ass hanging out of their pants!” he replied
“… oops sorry”.
“Not you, Mei. You don’t flash your ass in class”
So happy to know that even with my flat ass [I honestly do have a flat ass. In fact, it’s so goddamn flat, I can’t fill out my size S Shakti shorts and buying pants is a real -yep- pain in the ASS] I’m not mooning anyone behind me. They say you get a great ass from yoga, it’s been 2 years and I want my goddamn money back! [kidding, really!].
Before class started, an American guy [let’s call him C] asked when I was headed off to Vegas.
C : Ahh, Vegas. Never been there before.
M* : Apparently it’s quite fun!
C : LOTS of Asians there, though. Asians like to gamble, and I’m part Asian, so Vegas is a no-no for me. Lots of Asians apply to go to Vegas for tourism purposes, though.
M* : BAH, US tourist visa! It was so difficult to get mine! The weird questions the officer asked… [rant rant rant].
C : Oh, they just want to see if you’re nervous or are hiding something, as people who have stuff to hide or are not honest are jumpy with the answers…
M* : ..waitamin, how do you know so much?
*fellow bender sitting next to us pipe up* : That’s cause he works for the US Embassy.
Ladies and gents, it was as though a big giant neon “FML” sign was lit right above my head.
Righty ho. And to think that only minutes before I joked “Hey, I got my visa! Looks like I won’t have to marry anyone to get in! 😀 “. Well, at least he was nice and played along, “Oh damn, I was about to propose to you”.
Since we’re on a roll, let me tell you this rather awesome awkward story that happened to me last night while at my farewell.
It was SUPER awesome – thank you everyone who showed up!
A guy sitting at my 12 o’ clock was staring at me. Rather intently. It didn’t help that he was kind of cute. Pleasant looking. Looks to be around mid-30s. I like older men, I find males my age rather juvenile. Let me reiterate that – he was staring at me. Not at Hazel or her gigantic tits. Not at Vic. But ME.
Awesome, it must be the haircut, I LOVE IT! Must remind to thank Phillip…. I thought to myself.
After a few rather uncomfortable moments, he was STILL staring at me. What the fuck, can’t a girl swig her beer and chomp pizza in peace? EVERYTIME MY EYES MET HIS – he’d still be staring at me. OK Mister Weirdo, you are creeping me out.
Curiosity got the better of me after a few minutes. Turned around to make sure that he wasn’t staring at the group of drunk men behind me… and lo behold. 4 feet behind me, just right above my head, was a giant LCD with some sort of football [that’s soccer to the Americans] game going on.
Oh. Right. Staring at the TV, not me.
Right, failed attempt at rhyming. All those years of poetry classes down the drain.
Don’t get me wrong, I do LOVE and appreciate poetry, it’s just that I suck balls at parameters and rhyming. Heck, even my normal writing seems to be going downhill and seems to be replaced by Bikram-speak.
Thanks to the ever-lovely Hannah for this meme! Tag, everyone else, YOU’RE IT!
It’s not fall in Auckland, New Zealand until light streams in through my door, washing my room with an orangey-yellow hue as Sakura the Evil Cat makes her way in, jumps on top of me, sleeps in between my legs or shoves me off the bed to get warm. Outside, it’s not fall till you find yourself waiting for the bus and cursing the wind in every conceivable language as it nips around your exposed body parts.
Kelly Preston’s character in the movie For Love of the Game expresses her need to escape NYC because “Summer’s almost over, and I feel like I missed it.” What do you need to do in the waning days of summer for it to feel complete? Sunbathe in the courtyard [I remember once while sunbathing with Tania, we totally forgot that there were workmen behind us. eek!], run around the beach with the salty air sticking to my skin.
The person I know is wrong for me but about whom I frequently think after a break-up is happily dating someone else and has been while I turned up. Yup, so wrong.
The US Tennis Open, one of four Grand Slam events in that sport, is currently in the quarterfinal round. If you could only attend one major sporting event what would it be? The last time I attended a sporting event [a Malaysian students’ sports tour in Otago], I was injured by a rogue rugby ball. So this time, I’ll attend a chess convention – unless of course, a meteor decides to land on me.
Assuming that you write an anonymous or partially anonymous blog, by what non-physically identifying characteristics might you be identified in a bar? I’ll be the one drinking Guinness and swearing like a sailor. That and if you hear “Oh go get syphillis in the ass”, that’s me.
Most blogs cover some sort of niche – personal, political, dating, culinary, etc. What topic, if any, would you like to address on your blog but doesn’t fit into your niche? A nice mix-mash-mish of politics, human nature and philosophy. I can’t get enough jabbering about these 3 topics. I love prying people’s brains apart [metaphorically, I’m not that sadistic!] and their discussions on topics such as these reveal much about themselves. Plus, you’ll never know what you’ll learn in the process.
That being said, I was more cerebral 5 years back. I obviously got dumber as time went on.
If you could manipulate the time space continuum and give as many as three pieces of advice to a younger version of yourself, what advice would you give and to what age of you?
Oh WOW, ok, well, here goes!
10 -year-old Mei : They won’t stop fighting. Don’t blame yourself. And stop wasting your birthday wishes for the next 5 years for it to stop. Wish for a pony instead.With pink ribbons.
14-year-old Mei : Smoke more. You’ll learn to hate it when you’re 22, so in the meantime, tar your lungs up and stop hoping you’d die for all your problems to end.
16-year-old Mei : Trust no one, even if you’re staying with them. People have the weirdest ways to turn stories about you. And yes, it sucks that your father doesn’t even believe you, but hey, chin up, don’t worry, you’ll weather through and make awesome friends on the way.
17/18-year-old Mei : 6 shots of Tequila is quite enough, thank you.
20/21-year-old Mei : NEVER EVER let anyone belittle you and demean you. Who gives two flying fucks you’re studying a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Spanish and Italian? YOU ARE GOING TO BE ONE OF THE BEST STUDENTS IN CLASS. And NEVER EVER let then-boyfriend, Jackass Joel, tell you that because you’re doing a Bachelor of Arts and he a Bachelor of Engineering, that you don’t know SQUAT about anything else. You can tell him to go get syphillis in the ass right after you dump his ass on the curb. There! AND TAKE THAT GODDAMN SCHOLARSHIP TO SPAIN. FUCK what he thinks about you ‘abandoning’ him to pursue your dreams!
22-year-old-Mei : You’re NOT a junior copywriter. So stop accepting being treated like one and grow another set of balls. You’re not a copychecking machine!
Who among your friends do you really wish had a blog because their stories, or perspective on something ought to be shared? Most of my friends do, though I wish Foo would update his more often when he isn’t a socialite 🙂
If you were to take an e-cation (vacation from the trappings of our electronic world,) and assuming that employment obligations would allow it, how long of a break could you take? What would you miss the most, the least? I will miss my facebook games – Pet Society Who’s gonna feed and play and buy Viva new things?!?!?!, Restaurant City, twitter … oh my, I’m so dependent on social networking media, it’s scary.
On September 11th of this year, I will be attending a couple of parties and am somewhat conflicted by the fact that this ignoble anniversary shall pass with it being just another day in the eyes of many (and in some ways my own eyes as well.) Thoughts? It was horrible what happened, but please do remember because of a select group of people, EVERYONE else started seeing each other in the whole “us/other” paradigm. “You’re with us, or against us”. How bout, let’s try compassion, understanding and not give in to xenophobia?
How high are your walls? Who was the last person to scale them? What tools should would-be climbers have on their belt? 20 feet high with glass shards on top of it. But after you get through a very thing layer of concrete, you’ll see that my walls are actually made out of rice paper – thin, see-through, fragile, just a front. As the saying goes, “Sometimes we build walls not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.” My walls may have been broken many times, but it’s the re-building of it to keep even more people out, that hurts. Such a vicious cycle for someone so young and so cynical / jaded.
The sexiest thing a man can say to you (or has said to you) is as Hannah put it very eloquently, what that is not said but done. And no, it’s not sex-related, so please get your head, all 2 inches of it, out of the gutter.
This story will probably see a particular friend rolling all over the floor laughing his ass off. You know who you are!!!
Called my mobile service provider (DiGi) this evening to suspend my line while I am away in Vegas. After waiting, and waiting, and waiting, going through the INSANE voice commands and THEN waiting some more for a human to pick up.
Ah, after I get through, this customer service drone says :
“Good evening, my name is so-and-so, how may I help you sir?”
My voice isn’t THAT low, and while I know my hair is short, that person can’t see it over the phone.
So eloquent, so simply, so true.
Why can’t our politicians think like this young lady instead of pandering to some unknown phobia?
Oh spank me, I did a title in all caps again.
Gee, I seem to be loaded with innuendo these past few days.
I will be competing in Malaysia’s first asana championship, 8-9 January 2010.
Initially thought I won’t be able to compete as I’ll be gallivanting around the states [HELLO J AND MICHELLE! *waves like a maniac], but Jakob said, “Nuh uh. We’re doing it on the 8 and 9th”
Me : 😯
Here’s hoping that I my body won’t be a fantastic wreck after training because oh-HOT DAMN, one advanced class can really take me out like someone sucker-punched me in the nose [nobody wants to talk to me after advanced cause I babble about ponies and then remain quiet, pretty much like someone fed me a 1/4 pound of marijuana Not that I’ve had that much in my body…]
I think that’s enough excitement my little heart can take. That and I’ve got TONNES of freelance work to do See, I’m NOT procrastinating.
p.s : Of course you won’t die during yoga class. Even if you do, True Fitness Malaysia offers you a 2-year FREE membership in the event that you do [end sarcasm].
THIS IS SO EXCITING THAT I MAY VERY WELL BE TEMPTED TO TYPE IN ALL CAPS AND IN PINK.
But I shan’t, as that’s bad bad Net decorum. Naughty Mei!
Instead, just imagine, if you will, a 5′ bouncing ball of energy zipping across the room like a rabbit on metamphetamines.
*zip zip zip
I just taught half moon pose to a class of 25. WOW.
Although I taught t was only one set, right side. But wow, the feeling of getting UP onto the podium, getting the headset over my head Check check, can everyone hear me? and THEN delivering dialogue. Just, WOW.
The energy – what you give is what you get back – is 10, maybe 20fold- has me still on a buzz long after class has ended. The best way to describe it is smoking 50 ounces of crack laced with marijuana before being hung upside down Sydney Harbour Bridge. I haven’t done this so don’t try this please!
I think I did OK. Missed ‘arms and head back / chin up / focus one point in the mirror don’t even blink your eyes’.Hmm, don’t think I swung my arms around that much. Oh crappiola, I did say “Push your right, er sorry, left hip forward…”. Jakob told me AGAIN, “STOP SAYING SORRY. SORRY NO CURE”. Right. Gotta stop saying SORRY and DAMNIT / PISSANT / FUCK / SHIT when I miss / mess words up from the dialogue. Sincere apologies in advanced to ANYONE who’s gonna be taking my FIRST class. “Roll forward, body weight in the heels, fuck I meant, toes, I meant, fuck, I meant, oh shit!”
Very touched by the regulars who came up to me after class and wished me the best. Oh so touched by their kind words and sincerity. A fellow bender even got me a shirt [WOW, A SHIRT!] and offered me some melatonin pills to allow me to adjust to the time in Nevada faster It took me ONE WHOLE WEEK to adjust to a 5-hour time difference in New Zealand, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME I go back there! I have a long post about my journey till today [how I came this far, the money problems, the blah and blah], but I guess it’ll have to wait just a wee bit till I settle yogameiniac in with a nice cuppa hot choccie. 😉
Till then. Here’s wishing everyone a wonderful wonderful evening / day.
And lock the fucking knee!
… as this nutty yogini shares a room with her very nice roomie for 9 weeks. Hi Mel!
That means no random spurts of laughter [that really scares the bejeesus outta some friends], no random shouts of “BALLS!”, nor any form of debauchery. Must also remember to sit politely and not with my legs akimbo like a cow giving birth.
This is so exciting. Only 1 MORE WEEK!
On a side note, it’s been confirmed that I got the crazies from mum’s side, as this afternoon she asked me a question that I believe, NO mother should ever ask her daughter :
How often do you have sex?
How often do you and The Boyfriend have sex?
– *high pitched voice* It’s none of your bizznez!
Oh, just asking. You’re gonna be sexless for 9 weeks anyway
All this while I was trying to study Salabhasana [which, I believe, is a bitch].
Just realised that I *may* have to tone my sense of humour / outspoken behaviour down a notch [or 5] when I get to Las Vegas to avoid pissing people off. Especially since everyone’s going to be moody / cranky from all that sleep and sex deprivation. I can be the bitch from hell when hungry and sleep deprived. Either that or I will burst into song spontaneously / laugh non-stop for no apparent reason. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
No one, except family and friends, seem to understand my dry / sarcastic / morbid sense of humour. Example in point :
Q [as posted on Facebook wall of Bikram Yoga Fall 2009 Training group] :
Why are they building 3 tents in the Hilton?
M* : Oh, 1’s for the hot room, 1’s the lecture room, and the other one’s to dump all our dead bodies in after they’re done.
Nobody took too kindly to that. Everyone was so serious and talking about the whole debacle / business of getting wifi in the room / fridges in the room.
Sheesh. I’m starting to think this batch of trainees are too yoga-serious, or my sense of humour is questionable. 😛
p.s : If all else fails, I’ll start talking like a Jamaican and claim that English is my 3rd language, right after Klingon and Cthulhu.
OK, seriously, updating TWO blogs is sapping a heap of energy from me. Topping it off with dialogue memorisation and cleaning my room AND packing for #bktt.
“Turn your head in , mouth on the floor…”
Starting September 30th [or today even!], do visit my Teacher Training blog, courtesy of McKinley! 🙂
YAY! My dialogue! Gotta go get it laminated and what not. The copy my studio director gave me kinda looks like wet socks. Or salted vegetables. Or salted vegetables stuffed into wet socks.
Ahhh! It’s PINK! A nice, lovely, shade of pale pink with purple-y undertones. Excuse the pink duvet peeking through the bottom. And excuse the mess on my vanity table. I just wanted to show my new room colour off. HEHEHE!
It’s SO PINK, it’s little wonder I don’t bring guys home. They may very well go flaccid at the sight of pinkness and My Little Ponies on my dresser. Yeah. That and I hate sleeping with the AC on, unless it’s ridiculously HOT. And my mum will kill me even IF I do!
My 2 lovely sweat tops, courtesy of McKinley! If you haven’t gotten an uber sweat tank top / t-shirt yet, oooooooooh, you have NO clue what you’re missing!
Yeah, those are the clothes I’m aiming to pack to Vegas. My mum says 3 pairs of jeans is excessive and I quote :
“Lu siao ah [ARE YOU CRAZY?!], bring so many pairs of jeans FOR WHAT!”
“But maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam” *whine
And yes, I have “Cow jumps over the moon” jammies. Shush. I don’t think my roommate will be pleased if I walked around half naked.
For obvious reasons, I can’t sleep on my bed as it’s all taken up by clothes, so I’ve decided to join the cats downstairs and sleep on the couch, much to Edward kitty’s delight and Bella’s horror [she can’t do naughty things like drink from our water filter / scratch the sofa as I’ll lop a pillow at her]
As you can tell, I’m so deathly tired I can’t even string a coherent sentence to save my socks. *z