there and [all the way] back again

so here we are. it's the end of the month.

end of the athens olympiad.

end of the nation's preparations for this year's independence day.

end of the due-d exercise (er, well, almost).

two weeks till my official last working day.

near the end of the luxury of having your own stash to spend on almost anything you desire, and having it replenished every month.

near the end of strutting around in suits.

in many ways I still can't believe I'd (finally) made the decision to become a student again. for a year.

have I lost my mind? my bosses probably think so. "a year in practice is more valuable than a year of study. think about it."

a colleague initially dismissed it as a joke - apparently I was a fixture in the company; the last person to come up with such deviant ideas. "yeah right. since when did YOU leave."

so just what madness came over me? was it because I felt I needed a change? an attempt at a brief escape from the hectic working world? adding a milestone to the elusive search for enlightenment? an effort to understand the machinery at work behind the corporate wheels and ultimately a means to comprehend the incomprehensible? a struggle in the name of personal enrichment and in the spirit of man's never-ending quest for knowledge? a blind stab in the dark in the fervent hope that Opportunity will present itself, or that Muse will lend some ideas, at the very least? or, to put it in a few over-used words, because I wanted a break? none of the above? some of the above? all of the above?

*slap*
you silly spoilt brat of a dingbat you, stop being all picky and idealistic and just be a good girl and continue doing what you're doing.

*slap*
no! that's not right! you wanted Opportunity to present itself, here's Opportunity presenting itself. of course you should take the chance, you idiot. sure, you wouldn't know what's in store, but there's absolutely nothing to lose.

*slap!* * slap!*

yep, end of months of indecision.

end of the 'financial year'.

the end of four years since the last time I sat in a lecture hall armed with highlighters and reams of notepaper; and the beginning of it all again.

end of one path, and the beginning of another.

independence day.

les grisettes de paris

grisettes (gri-zets') -

description: young working-class French ladies of very doubtful reputation, normally found tripping down boulevards where lamps are burning (or, alternatively, at Istana Budaya, KL).

characteristics: silk and sequin, frill and feather ..



.. butterflies, not caught but catching ..



.. flashing legs in cabaret, flirting till the break of day!



cf. gizzards (giz'-erds) -
description: a figment of the mis-pronounced imagination of the Chancery clerk at the Pontevedrian Embassy.

hallucinations?

it's quite amazing that after 2 weeks of extreme sleeplessness and stress and 4 nights of heavy makeup, my face hasn't turned into a replica of the surface of prehistoric Earth (as it usually would even in milder circumstances of stress). in fact, and on the assumption that i'm not hallucinating from sleep deprivation, it's actually looking, er, better.

two possible factors, methinks - (i) an anti-acne-n-acne-marks natural-oil-n-vitamin-E thingy peddled by a clever salesman* at the warehouse sale of a particular pharmacy which i purchased (read: 50% discount); and/or (ii) the plethora of shiseido products used on our measly mugs** by the team of professional make-up artists for merry widow. the cleanser, the moisturizer, the pre-make-up base, the foundation, and finally (as the guy with the loudhailer screams down the corridor 'GET DOWNSTAIRS IN TEN MINUTES!') the colours. the painstakingly applied pre-pre-pre layers probably either nourished the skin [gawd i sound like a beauty product ad] and/or protected the skin from attacks from foreign particles which clog the pores and fester into organic volcanoes [on second thoughts, i don't think i should write beauty product ads]. which, coupled with the time spent applying each stratum, also did a pretty good job of keeping the colours from running.

then again, it could just be delayed reaction.

the calm before the storm.

-------------------
* side rambling - wonder whether any member of the female sex has ever been offended with a query as to whether she is looking for something to make her face look less frightening. risky job in a way, ain't it, especially for those poor fools who have to shove a slimming brochure in your face on your way to lunch, asking you whether you would like to go on a diet.

** no, i didn't mean to say that you're ugly. please don't sue me.

post-production earworms

recurring phrases for the day, so far:

"ritantouri tantirette, eh voila les belles grisettes..."

"ladies' choice! ladies' choice! ... rescued in the nick of time..."

"young lovers all awake, night brings you waltz time, and the moonlight sings in waltz time..."

and the (in)famous

"no one seems to want me here..."

kyrie eleison

the gods of time must have a weird sense of humour. how else would you explain a bunch of colossal due diligence matters and a three-day run of an operetta and the frantic rehearsal run up to it, all converging on the same weekend? well, glad it's Friday, at last. didn't think i'd survive the week without going nuts. break a leg, grisettes!

and the dining room presents...

'food presentations' by the hotel's waiters at wedding dinners tend to be at best corny, and at worst somewhat painful to endure, depending on the level of complexity of the proceedings.

first, there's the music. typically, this would be strains of kitaro, or the dining room scene from disney's beauty & the beast, or some other spirited melody a'la excerpts from an Olympics soundtrack.

then you have the 'presentation' itself, which grand scale is sometimes capable of overshadowing the bridal entry! house lights dim, and food comes in on candlelit trays carried by waiters proudly relishing their moment of fame, amid misty clouds of dry ice. in a few weddings i attended, a waitress serving the main table's first course was hoisted up on a platform resting on the shoulders of two or more men as the little procession of waiters made its way across the red carpet. in the case of yesterday's wedding dinner, the strength of one of the men waned, he lost his grip, the waitress fell from the chair that was affixed on the platform, and the first course came tumbling after...

and this happened just as i was wondering whether these daring acts have ever encountered a fall before...

chewing cars

have got an intelligent, hyperactive, mischevious and extremely cute 10-month-old cocker spaniel which sinks its teeth onto almost anything and everything.

including severing the wiring of ABS sensors on rear wheels of cars.

and it's not a loose dangling wire, it's wiring which has been fastened on tight.

and you can't replace just the wire, the entire bit of ABS gadgetry has to be replaced.

and the dog had to choose the car with the more expensive parts.

and guess what, it's happened twice already (despite a stern reprimand)!

what does one do, save for chaining up the poor dog whenever there's a car in the porch?

hor fun et. al.

these two weeks are gonna be hell. there will be rehearsals almost every day leading up to the show from 20-22 august, and at least one matter at work is targeted to be finalized by next week. normally this would entail staying back late in the office, especially where the documentation is voluminous. as it is, it's an accepted phenomenon that work, at regular workloads, never finishes at 5.30 pm. we're talking about a file where a particular set of documentation had me staying up in the office till the next morning. gonna have to try my best to remain sane through this :-D. an option would be to bring whatever work i can to rehearsals to be done during the breaks in between our relevant sections (which tend to be numerous and long and boring anyway). work comes first (did i just say that?), so worst-case scenarios will be me missing a rehearsal or two with the magic word "WORK" as the reason, or just hoping for the absence to go unnoticed (which is technically impossible, as a fellow grisette mentioned, since i AM one of chez maxim's six can-can dancers!) the past year or so has been a living testimony to the fact that the oft-used rant by practitioners that "i don't have time to do anything but eat, sleep and work" is not a sweeping generalization!! :-D on another note, i'll be taking a little 'break' soon to study. more on that later! ;)

remember i rambled on briefly about watching kill bill vol 2 some time back? slipped in the dvd after dinner yesterday, but i couldn't keep myself awake, probably due to the fact that i'd just returned from the Land of Hor Fun* (a.k.a. Ipoh). i managed to get past the el paso church massacre scene in the beginning with my eyelids open but during the few scenes thereafter nothing made sense cos i was already half asleep by the time bill showed up again after the massacre. needless to say, i didn't watch the rest of it. apparently it was a bit slow-moving, and especially slow-moving if compared to vol 1 (hmm, shoulda known. - vol 1 was banned by the censorship board but vol 2 was allowed thru). so i'm wondering whether it's worth my spending a few less sleepy hours watching it again.

*hor fun (cantonese) - imagine fettucine, only it's not made of durum wheat but rice flour, so it's white, soft and smooth. add soup to it. add prawns. slices of chicken. top it off with bits of fried shallots and garlic and that aromatic slither of oil.. getting hungry yet?.. and ipoh has the best of the stuff.

air violin on the streets of LA

yes, i've got a mysterious new photo on the right above my profile. the star reads "jascha heifetz". for the uninitiated - violinist, considered by some to be the greatest in the 20th century. the sun was in the way (that's the trouble with travelling in the summer.. the sun is always in the way of your photos!) so i tried using my shadow to block the sun out so the gold words could be seen. and since i'm gonna have a shadow, might as well try and pose like a violinist. (ok, LA denizens repeat after me: "geez! the things tourists think of!") i think i should have lowered my right hand a bit tho, so it looks more like i'm holding a bow. i guess i didn't pay much attention to the details then as i wanted to get the photo taken before passers-by start to gape at The Tourist Playing Air Violin on Hollywood Boulevard! in case you have no idea what i'm talking about, here's the photo:

sleepless

it's been more than a week since i got back to the country. jet-lag doesn't normally take more than a week. why oh why am i still awake at 3.30 am?!

so i've been occupying my time for the past few hours changing the look and feel of my blog. which, considering the fact that i was aiming to get some sleep, wasn't a good idea, as once i get started on design work i won't leave it till i think it's in a state fit to go public.

you've got work tomorrow, girl. and the MW rehearsal thereafter. oh yes, and there's the ex-colleague's malay wedding ceremony to rush to between finishing work and commencing the rehearsal. that's gonna be a challenge.

.. need .. to .. sleep .. !

or maybe i just need another holiday...

what do you do when …

#1
you say:
"excuse me, do you happen to know where the university computing centre is?"
and you get the reply:
"yeah!!"

#2
you say:
"hi! i'm sorry, i didn't get your name?"
and you get the reply:
"oh, it's all right."

[addendum to #1]
this had happened during my first few days as an undergraduate. what was the bloke thinking? did i look like i was doing a survey?!

[addendum to #2]
this occurred this morning during the early stages of a conversation with a new temporary recruit. (the name of the unfortunate temp (which was eventually given) has been omitted to protect the blur.)