Category Archives: Malaysiana

It’s Official

This bird has got to leave the nest. It’s time to grow.


I thank you all for being with me for the past 1.5 years.





ps : To know more, hit me up on FB. Prying eyes are prying eyes πŸ˜‰

4 Wise Cracks

After a month of delay, oof-ing, aaf-ing and planning, I finally plucked the courage to get my 4 wisdom teeth removed.

Actually, it was my dental surgeon who went “Ah! We are going to remove 4 in 1 go…”

-4? Oh. Okay. Sure!

*That means I get to take extended leave in 1 shot instead of breaking it up. Plus I only have to undergo trauma and sedation ONCE, and we all know how long anesthesia stays in your body … [2 weeks for me].

To prepare, I went shopping for ice cream, frozen yogurt and baby food. Yes, baby food. The soft cereals, the ground-up mashed-up food and who can forget, apple sauce? YAY apple sauce!

And then The Day came. Took a cab in to the clinic and arrived a little early. Good good, said the receptionist, who clearly approved of me coming in early. Sat down, got my vitals taken [height, weight] for sedation purposes and I TOLD her, “Boleh kasi cukup cukup ubat lali tak? Nak banyak sangat sampai kuda pun takleh bangun dan saya takleh rasa kaki I nih” [Can you please give me enough sedation / anesthetic, so much so that it’ll knock out a horse and Β I won’t be able to feel my legs]. She giggled. Oh she giggled.

I wasn’t joking.

You see, nurses, doctors and I don’t have a very good track record. When I was young, a doctor tried to check my rashes. I kicked. You will be surprised how a skinny 5 year old me could kick. The skinniest kid on the block COULD KICK. A nurse came it to help calm me down. OH did I thrash, did I thrash and KICK and SCREAM. ANOTHER nurse came in to help the first nurse, and what does a terrified kicking, screaming and thrashing 5 year old do? Calm the fuck down THRASH AND SCREAM AND KICK HARDER.

I don’t know if they had to sedate me after all my thrashing, but I do know that they didn’t give me a lollipop after. Asswipes.

Fast forward 2 decades and more later, there I sat on the chair, having my blood pressure taken. After knocking back what seemed like Lindsay Lohan’s breakfast of pills, I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. [OK, pills have a very fast effect on me, so I probably waited a good 8 minutes before I started feeling woozy].

And then I got dizzy, and headache-y, and next thing I know I was walking in to The Room, assisted by nurses.

– Goooo mooohning, I mumbled to the dentist, as I sat down in The Chair.

“OK! Let’s all get started!” said the doctor as he preppred me up and his nurses tied my wrists down.

– Wait. Why are you restraining my hands? , I asked groggily. No one answered. Or maybe they did. Whatever, you communists.

First, my whole mouth was numbed. Boy did my tongue feel like lead.

He started off by extracting my bottom right tooth. A little tricky and not straight forward, as this tooth was partially grown out and peeking our from the gums. A few knocking sounds, a little crack, wa-la! wee!

On to the top right. Not as bad, as this wisdom tooth was already fully grown out. Crack, crack, wa-la! Wee!

On to the top left! Same as before. Crack, crack, wa-la! Wee!

*Actually, it could even be crack-crack-pull-pull-crack-crack, but I was too knocked out to even know what my real name is.

NOW came the bottom left. This tooth. Now, this tooth was SPECIAL. It was impacted, meaning, it was sleeping sideways under the gum.

This fucker cost me RM1000.

This fucker was the one that hurt the most. The moment I felt pain, I started tapping the chair. I mean, hey, it’s what I learned in martial arts. You hurt your opponent, you tap. I tapped. And tapped. And then I KICKED. If tapping was not going to work, I am going to KICK and so help me GOD ALLAH BUDDHA JESUS JOSEPH MARY MOSES. I thrashed and I kicked nary a care who was around me. Unfortunately I didn’t realise there were nurses / assistants around me. I’m a little sorry if anyone got kicked, but I did tell you I wanted enough sedation to knock out a horse. Not a pony. A HORSE. I guess my kicking and thrashing this time round got some attention as I was promptly given another shot of anesthetic [weeeee!] and the surgeon telling me to “Calm down, shh shh shh”.

1.5 hours later and I was done. Done done done. Groggily sat in the holding room, paid my bill, got my medication, and waited for my knight in shining armour to pick me up. I was so out of it I couldn’t even walk straight. With bloody gauze in my mouth, I’m sure I was such a beautiful sight to look at.

And 2 days later, I’m sitting at home with a swollen face, stitches in my mouth [I can feel it] surviving on a diet of ice cream and soup and frozen yogurt. If you must know, I have so far lost 1KG from not doing anything.

Click to view the 4 wise cracks.

And now, excuse me while I overdose on antibiotics and try to slurp some congee down.


Know This…

Even though I keep a flexible schedule …

I am close to being burnt out.


At the ripe old age of 2x, I have taken up … ballet.

Part of me was influenced by Natalie Portman’s fluidity and grace in Black Swan. The majority of me wanted to learn how to use my damn muscles for once because I have figured how to use my joints during class [and I can already here Emmy screaming “USE YOUR MUSKELLSSSS”]

Leotard? Check!

Leggings? CHECK!

Ballet split sole shoes? CHEEEECKK!

And I am off!

It has only been 2 classes but HOT DAMN it is DIFFICULT. I have now learnt that I have :

– Hyper-extended knees

– Super uber flexible joints [Teacher adjusted me a little and remarked, “I move you here a little and everything else moves. OK… GIRL you need to work!”]

– SUPER tight hips. Thanks, running, thanks a lot.

In fact, ballet has given me more … awareness on my body movement and alignment. I am more aware of my hip in Triangle [OH MOTHER OF GOD IT HURTS SO BAD NOW] and hello uneven hips in Standing Bow.

Now I’m even more tempted to try on Β pointe πŸ˜‰



Since I am UNABLE to tell anyone just what a kerfuffle I got myself into on Sunday… allow me to attempt to amuse you with what happened TODAY.


I am just so SICK and FED UP of being involved in accidents. Of ALL the accidents that happened to me, it ALWAYS ends up with people knocking into my poor little old car. Dear Universe, when I was asking to be knocked up to satisfy my maternal yearnings, this was NOT what I wanted! *huff.


Went down to my local car dealer to check out prices and models of cars. Ah, a happy zippy and spacious SUV! AHA, I thought, this could be IT! This could be LOVE! I sung to myself happily.


Got in the car. Checked it out. Asked the salesperson the toughies questions. Played around the boot. WOO USB and Bluetooth port! OK FOCUS. WOO hello sexy cup holders. OK FOCUS. Woo hello space!


In short : It’s a start. And I can already see me in it.


Salesperson : OK Miss Mei. So let us book the right time for you, because I am sure you would want to bring your husband here to test drive the car too …


To which I suddenly went so high-pitched, Lassie would’ve died.


Me : OH! Er. Well! No husband! No! I’m not married! Only me and myself! And my cats! No kids!


Salesperson : So sorry Miss Mei.



Fine. Apology accepted. Moving on. Hmm. Maybe the SUV is TOO family-like… I thought. Though I could really really do with a spacious boot [to dump the bodies of all the useless jerks who made me invest feelings in them before I find out that they’re attached…. BUT THAT’S FOR ANOTHER DAY!] ….



And then I saw her. The coupe.


The SEXY SEXY coupe.


Sure she has a long and wide ass. Sure it’s a 2+ 3 anorexic model seater …. SURE it’s a mid-life crisis car… BUT HOT DAMN I LOVE HER.


THE LINES. The sleek body. OH THE LINES.


I formed driving plans in my head. I will drive down to Singapore at 1am, banging this baby at 160km/h … and drive up north…. maybe up and down some winding roads to get a good feel of her …


If I sound like a man salivating and dreaming of sex with Natalie Portman, you are probably right.


I got into the driver’s seat. Felt the leather encase me. At once, I couldn’t wait to see how she’d handle me slapping her wet and wild on the roads up to Genting.


Again, sorry. I sometimes think I am a man stuck in the body of a girl.


As I was forming great driving plans … the other sales assistant slid up to me :



Salesperson 2 : So, no kids?

Me : NO. NO KIDS. NOT MARRIED. NO NO NO. *Whiiiineeeee Lassie pitch WHIIINEEEEEEEE

Salesperson 2 : So you’re not married? Why not?

Me : Uhm. Because I scare all the men away? [someone said I should’ve answered “Because I killed my last husband”] …. OH LOOK THIS IS MY MIDLIFE CRISIS CAR ALTHOUGH I HAVE YET TO HIT 30 OH WHAT COLOUR DOES THIS COME IN WOW SO PRETTY WEE


I think I got a little too loud and over-defensive that the first salesguy said I can come back and test drive the coupe. WITH NO OBLIGATIONS.



I am a happy girl indeedy.




And I still don’t get why a single lady can’t just waltz into a car dealership to buy her own car? Tsk.



The Simplicity of Repetition

A lot of times people, especially students and those new to Bikram Yoga ask me, “Are you ever BORED of doing the same TWENTY-SIX postures, day in, day out?”


And the answer is “No!”. I do have lots to work on [HELLO upper body strength] and as every one else says, every single class you attend is a challenge. It is different. The dialogue is the same, but the personality of the teacher comes through and you are then either a struggling whimpering mess or a strong champion.


But as always, Bikram has his motives for REPEATING the same asanas [postures]. Sure, it all has the benefits [and 1 posture leading to the next], but consider this :


Shaolin monks who practice kung-fu [and I am not making this up!] get up at the crack of dawn and after their meal / prayers, proceed to PRACTICE kung fu the whole day. My theory is that repeating the same movements / moves [I guess you can’t really call it a posture, can you?] to help cultivate GOOD muscle memory! Ergo, when your teacher tells you to PICK UP YOUR FOOT and attempt Standing Head to Knee or Standing Bow again, you damn well had better pick it up if you want to improve. However, if you don’t, you can just be lazy, stand there, look around, and then after class bombard your teacher with “I’ve been coming for TWO years and my Standing Bow looks the same! I want to look like Brandy Lyn!” πŸ˜‰


A little more on Shaolin Monks, courtesy of National Geographic [and YouTube πŸ˜‰ ]




So the example above was using Qi Gong. But what was INTERESTING was the concept of CHI [Qi?] or ENERGY. Every. Single. Movement you do CREATES energy! So it is VITAL to MOVE TOGETHER in class and MOVE with CONVICTION and not just flop your arms around like a dying squid.




In other words, yep, this badass Bikram bitch is back. I have recently ended a 4-year relationship, so obviously I did not feel the mood to blog as much. Sorry! However, I find it hilarious that when people find out they expect my ex and I to be at each others’ throats or avoiding each other like the seasonal bubonic plague of death. Uhm, hello. We are both mature adults and this isn’t freaking high school. But what makes it awkward are people staring at us expecting some sort of throw down, hence I feel so awkward for them that I just skedadle out of the scene like a rat on fire [and proceed to hide from THEM, not my ex!].



Remember folks, either you let life break you, or you can be fabulous and not care about those who choose to gossip-monger and create unnecessary drama.







Happy Chinese New Year!

May the year of the Metal Rabbit be fruitful and happy to all. Heh. Heh. Heh.


Here’s a Petronas commercial that tugs at heartstrings. I’m glad Leo Burnett has finally done justice to Yasmin Ahmad’s great vision [without being too try-hard or corny]



GUEST STAR : John Low‘s father-in-law is the first old man featured [the one with the walking cane]!


Enjoy … with a box of tissues πŸ˜€





I HATE Bikram Yoga

I really do.

I freaking hate it. Hate it to my guts, hate it from the tip of my hairs to the ends of my toe nails. Hate it from my sciatic nerve back up all the way to my optical nerve. AH THE NERVE.



I sweat too much, my sweat stings my eyes, and for some reason I get crusty eyes the next morning after class.


The teachers talk too much [HA!], they shout and scream at you to lock the freaking knee “LOCK THE KNEE, LOCK THE KNEE, LOCK THE KNEE!” and they never seem to be able to SHUT the HELL UP and yet seem so happy clappy out of class. BAH.


The men sweat too much, they fling their horrid sweat on me, and some males don’t know the meaning of Laundry Day.


My back hurts during backbends, my back hurts during forward bends, my back is FUCKING killing me.


It is DIFFICULT, it is SO DAMN HOT and it PISSES me off.



But yet like a cracked up whore I still keep going back and I became a teacher.


Because it is difficult, because it pisses me off, because it is hot, because the teachers push me, because of all the reasons why I hate it, is why I believe in it.


And yet, who can deny the post-class euphoria is the BEST part of class?




Happy 3 year anniversary to me! πŸ˜€




The Epic Miri Gathering

aka Tania & King’s 2nd coming. Er. Wedding.

Pictures stolen from Daniel’s facebook because I stupidly FORGOT to charge my camera before bringing it along.

What do you get when you lump together a group that hasn’t met up in FOUR years? Add in some alcohol, a wedding, some nighttime debauchery [YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHERE YOUR YOGA TEACHER WENT LAST NIGHT], a hospital trip [YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOUR YOGA TEACHER GOT UP TO LAST NIGHT], amazing food and you get…

The Miri Gang.

I swear I gained 2 pounds in 3 days, thanks to all the feeding from our lovely hosts πŸ˜‰


Erm no thanks, I’m really full.

And I find my plate to be magically filled with food. Eeek.

Enough with the talky-talky, here are some pictures!


According to Chinese custom, the groom Β and his best men MUST pass a few … ‘tests’ / ‘trials’ / ‘tribulations’ set upon him by the bridesmaids. Because I am actually a sadistic person [and I have lots of ideas to plan], I have devised a few… erm, non-tortorous ways for the boys πŸ˜‰



Have you ever brushed your teeth with a gooey mix of honey AND cocoa powder? Yeah. The boys seemed to enjoy this one cause it looked easy and it tasted good. But of course, I start off slow and easy and move on to …




I made a special SPICY jelly with topped with bugs and wasabi powder. What made this jelly special was that I made it with BIRD’S EYE CHILLI [cili padi] essence water. Basically chopped up a few of those spicy suckers, poured boiling hot water to get the essence out and wala. I even topped the jelly with stars to make it look prettier Β πŸ˜€ And yes, those bugs are real. They taste… crispy.


Bitter bitter tea

A special brew of BITTER Chinese herbs and bitter gourd essence topped with freshly chopped bitter gourd. As to how BITTER it was, I took a tiny sip and the taste stayed with me on my tongue for a good 15-20 minutes. King even asked “OK, what DID you put in there? My mouth was BITTER for 30 minutes even AFTER a bottle of water and some cookies!”. Heh heh heh.


Carrot a day keeps the eye doctor away.


Tania bored a hole into the carrots, and we strung the carrots around the boys’ waist, making some other boys eat this wasabi-laced delicacy… withouth their hands. If you’re wondering, yes, it does look like a bunch of guys fellating each other in public.


And when it was all over, King got Tania πŸ˜‰


Min [in sunnies] is carrying a Golden Rooster with 7 eggs that symbolises good health and fertility.


Gold Gold Gold! πŸ˜€


Tania in her evening Cheongsam πŸ™‚



At the Chinese Tea ceremony ... iPhone obsession!


Dangit Daniel, you are SO DAMN SNEAKY WITH A CAMERA.


Some of the Best Men. Oh they were REALLY good sports about the games! πŸ™‚


I teared when she walked down the aisle :')


The Stage πŸ™‚


The Emcee was REALLY corny. “The sweetness of the cake will fill their heart with joy and fill their lives with sweetntess”. Or something equally as corny as that. I looked at Jo and said “I DID NOT WRITE THAT”. Haha!


Tania's Dad and the veil-covering

OOPS forgot to add this in. The lighting is really creepy, but the bride looks so radiant in this photo …


Pooped bride and equally pooped bridesmaids.




And we proceeded to Karaoke and drinking [I didn’t drink that much] and some more nighttime debauchery. Of which photos will not be posted up … because for some strange reason there is a photo of King topless and being molested by the guys. I was too busy playing dice / happily drinking away.




Ah, can’t wait for December 2011 πŸ™‚







Project Integration : Success!

Barely 24 hours in Miri, I have managed to bump my head twice, have my bra strap unfurl and smack me in the face Β [I kid you not] and get clipped in the knee by a wheelchair.


EPIC holiday! Missing all the laughs, chats, giggles and rants already …


This trip definitely reminded me to take time out to spend with WHO, not WHAT counts.