Category Archives: Perso-mei-lly

And In Other News …

… About a few weeks ago I went for my most random first date ever. By random I mean it was nice good clean fun, a good break from the normal πŸ™‚

 

Lunch, test drive of some cars [HAHA!], coffee, mad rush to send me to teach my evening classes, catch up session with some mutual friends …

 

All in all, thank goodness we had things to talk about in the space of 12 hours spent TOGETHER on a first date.

 

 

M*

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.

 

 

M*

 

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

Another Writing Project

You lot know I love to write.

Or rather, I prefer to think that I think I know how to write, and then annoy you with my senseless directionless drible.

Like what I just did.

Without further ado, I present to you, Revision 365, a site for which I am also a guest contributor [thanks Mike! πŸ˜€ ]

And for my first post, hat tip goes to the lovely Dancing J who featured the hilarious video on her facebook. I know now why I feel so damn STRONG after tea. TEAAAAAAA! EMPIRES WILL FALL BUT STEAM WILL RIIIIIIIISE.

M*

M*

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.

M*

Much Needed Therapy

Which oddly enough, wasn’t Bikram Yoga!

About 3 weeks ago, I [gracefully] fell down on my ass in the carpark ON MY WAY to dinner. Before you lot get ahead of yourselves [yes, my 3 readers in total], this was BEFORE any drinking so please don’t nod sagely and go “Ah yes, she was drunk, that’s why she fell down”. In fact, I was sober and just taught!

So walking along – doo doo doo – thinking of what to order for dinner – doo doo doo, should I have lamb? Or pasta? doo doo doo – when suddenly my left foot gives out under me and SPLATCHUNK I land [gracefully] on the floor. On my ass bone. First thing out of my mouth was “OH SHIT I fell down!” [I mean, no shit, Sherlock] but a friend reckon I should’ve said “I meant to do that!”. Thank goodness the carpark was empty save for the parking attendant who looked over curiously at me.

And since then, my ass bone [ok, fine, coccyx] hurts and I can’t lie on my back during Savasana. Forget Standing Bow or Bow or Standing Head to knee. In fact, one day -in my mind- I was screeching “FUCK THE 26 + 2, GO DEEPTHROAT A CHAINSAW WAAAARRRGHHHH” before laying down on my side to Savasana.

After teaching a class in KL, I was talking to a newbie and I asked him what he does for a living. He answered, “Oh, many things, I’m a life coach, I also do Cranial Sacral therapy, Breathworks…”

– Cranial Sacral? What’s that like?

“Oh, it’s how your bones realign itself….”

– OOOH Can I try?

“Sure! You wanna do it now?”

– WEE! πŸ˜€

I laid down on a yoga mat, rolled over on my side, and he put his palm under my sacrum, [I rolled back on to it] and the magic started. It took only about 10 seconds before I could FEEL IT. What, exactly, you may ask? I felt buzzing, pulling and scraping [?!] in my sacroilliac joint [the source of my injury]. He remarked that we both made a connection really fast [cause I do yoga? :D]. In a few minutes I felt buzzing travelling up my spine … on to my shoulders and neck [where he remarked “Oh WOW, you have lots of nerve damage here!”] and down into my hands [“Wow, more damage here!”]. The AMAZING thing is that NOBODY knows about my nerve damage, and it’s something you cannot discern with the naked eye. Short to say, I was pretty amazed!

After a few minutes the therapy ended, I rolled over to my side to ‘recover’. I felt REALLY good after the therapy. Albeit a little pulling / scraping sensation / pain in the area, but generally, my HIPS are aligned! WOO HOO! Save for major lethargy [which the therapist said is normal], I’m feeling great!

So go try it! It has to be the most RAD thing since I’ve done Bikram πŸ˜‰

M*

Know This…

Even though I keep a flexible schedule …

I am close to being burnt out.

Ballerina

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˜‰

M*

If You Have 8 Minutes …

… to spare, do do do take a look at this photo-documentary by Darcy Padilla, called The Julie Project.

Darcy Padilla has photographed Julie over a period of 18 years, from when she was a teenager living in the Ambassador Hotel in San Francisco till her death from AIDS at age 36.

Sociopolitical issues aside, this documentary FORCES you to think and feel for a PERSON named Julie. Of course, there are many other cases like Julie all around the world, and it is oft too easy to forget about them and let them slip through the cracks of the social system.

This is one of those things that will stay with me for a very, very, long time.

M*

Lady ROAR

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.

 

M*

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.

 

 

 

M*