Celebrations & Grievances: 2014 so far...

Every 6 to 12 months or so I decide that I have something to write about again. I am feeling good, I am feeling refreshed and I am feeling super motivated. So I get online, I start anew and I write. Which is how it should be, until I discovered this time round that in my previous enthusiasms, I had started several other blogs with many unfinished posts that were scattered across Tumblr, Blogspot, Wordpress and even Quora.

I have so many.

Thus began the culling process and unexpectedly a reminiscence session of times of when I was down, up and just scattered in the last couple of years. Some posts I wish that I had finished, some posts I am very glad that they remained unposted and others were just plain jane boring. But never the less I am glad that I am here culling down to just one blog.

So hi everyone, it really is good to see you again.

"It is usually a celebration or grievance that will bring a group of people together. But in this case, it is both a celebration and grievance that Minh is leaving. Celebration that she is moving up in the world (literally) and a grievance because we are losing her". This was the introduction of a farewell speech spoken by one of my work colleagues at my leaving do yesterday. His words touched me on a deeper level that not many people could ever know. For this year up until now has been a mixture of joy, frustration and deep sadness for me. I am celebrating that I will be moving to England indefinitely but I am grieving because I am leaving a lot behind.

The process has not been easy. The parents, as much as I love them, have had much to do with this. Dad has been silent and withdrawn about the inevitable move. Mum has been opposite, frequently reminding me that it is another bad decision that will end up like every other mistake that I have made in my failing life. Sometimes I can wear this on the chin because I know, I really know, that deep down they love me and that they don't want to see me go. But other times I lash out because I am frustrated and hell, I am only human too. It is not a pretty sight. Sticks and stones may break bones but words do hurt. Sometimes I think fractures may be easier to deal with because at least it will heal quicker. Patience. Patience. Patience. I must constantly remind myself of this because I have hope that one day they will see that my decision is right for me.

The happier part to this though is my joy joy joy of being reunited with Joy(jit) and of course, England. Can you remember what it felt like to be a child looking forward to going to the movies or just out with friends? Time would slow right down for me, I could never sleep the couple of nights before and I would always feel like I could burst with how happy and excited I felt. This is the feeling that I wake up to every day (once I do fall asleep), now that the count down has begun.

I hope to stay in touch and post regularly but deep down I think we all know that I am and will always be a hit and miss kind of blogger :).

For your reference:
Here is a picture of the cause of my celebrations and grievances for the year 2014 (in a good way).

Minh Lee

Just you take a look at what has happened to my body since I have started the Jamie Eason body building program.

Move over Bruce Lee, it's Minh Lee now!

Ok maybe I am exaggerating a tiny bit. I guess my guns aren't as big as Bruce's and I guess my 'abs' is really just one ab and I guess I am not that lean and yeah ok I guess I don't know kung fu either. Although, I would like to point out that I do have more of a chest than that!

But I am starting to have a wing problem.

Yes. A wing. Two chicken wings on either side of my torso. This will not do. It goes against my vegetarianism ways. I need to change my work out plan and I need to do it quickly before I become she - man. To make matters worse, that smiling muffin top is still hanging around.

She man with the bloody muffin  

Darn that brat muffin. Never mind, I will find another workout plan that is vegetarian friendly and muffin top free.

Can of sardines - the love story

The word 'marriage' gives me the heebie-jeebies. Long gone is the girl who used to believe in love at first sight, fairy tale marriages and happy ever after endings. Sometimes I think I can hear her, but she is very faint.

Naive girl
Missing, presumed dead.

That was about the same time I realised that I would most likely not own a hovercraft either. Tough year that was. 


But growing up does this to you. You discover things that you wish you hadn't. Like the fact that in Australia, every third marriage ends in divorce. It is a sad and very scary statistic for me. Unfortunately, it is just the world that we live in these days. 

"I'm leaving you, Gilbert. You can keep the bowl, but i'm taking the water and all the coloured stones!"

But I am lucky because just as equally, if not more, I often come across inspirational love stories which strengthen and restore my faith in marriage and long ever lasting love. Infact, I see one everyday.

My parents. 


They bicker all the time. Do this, do that, I do too much, stop talking, what are you talking about, she's your daughter not mine, you tell her to get married...etc etc. Nothing major, just everyday petty bickering. 


On this occasion, both were tired from another day of work. Mum was putting dinner together and nagging dad to take the bloody garbage out. Dad did do as he was told but not without complaints mumbled under his breath. Something about women and how they would never cope without men. At this point, mum turned to me and said "That's what he thinks, I'd be better off without him. Less cleaning!". 


It only got worse as dinner was served. Dad did not like what mum had prepared and decided that he would rather eat a can of stinky sardines than what she had served. No really, he actually does enjoy stinky sardines. So he went to fetch himself a can of sardines,  tomato sauce flavour. 


Now dad has become more dottery with age (bless him), so there he was in his blue pin striped pyjamas trying to open this can of sardines with a ring pull top. Being an OT, I really should have stepped in at this stage and whipped out a ring pull can opener or something OT like that. But I didn't because I was watching him tackle this can of sardines with great amusement. I know. I am going to hell, tell me about it.


Finally, he approaches mum who is sitting at the dinner table wearing her fluffy bright pink pyjamas. Together, they devise a plan to open this can of sardines. I can't remember what words were exchanged exactly, but it was some intense planning. Ok no no no you hold it. Yes, you hold the tin and I'll grip the ring. Who the hell thinks of these designs. Terrible. Ok are you ready? Now wait, let me peel this back slowly, evenly. Yes good steadying. Alright, it's opening it's opening, it's opened! 


It was brief, but I saw them look at each other with real love. Both parents in funky pyjamas grinning at each other ridiculously, adoringly and happily. All because they had opened this stinky feral can of sardines together. 

The can of sardines before it was conquered 

They resumed their seats at the dining table and then continued to bicker. Woman, you should buy cans that are easier to open, well go buy it yourself next time, why are you so cranky...etc etc.


Sometimes I will wander into the living room and find them squished on to a single sofa seat fast asleep. On other occasions, I have seen dad stick his tongue out at mum and act like a complete goof to make her laugh. My heart smiles when I see mum sneak a cheek kiss for dad when she thinks no one is watching. They have been married for 35 years and they can still act like teenagers in love. 


It gives me hope.

Moral of the story:

 Keep a good supply of cans of sardines (with the ring pull top ) and funky pyjamas. The success of your marriage will depend on it.

Picasso! Warhol! Jazz! drunk...

7:05 pm Arrive at the Art gallery with time to spare before the Jazz performance begins. 


7:15 pm Drop by the cocktail bar for some well earned wine.


7:20 pm Greet and compliment the bartender on his well kept beard. 


7:25 pm Delighted bartender recommends a glass of Chardonnay. Yum. Crisp and light. 


7:30 pm Jazz performance begins. I sit back and think to myself what a perfect way to end the week. You can't beat listening to a good live jazz band prior to viewing some amazing artwork on a Friday evening.


7:35 pm Converse with Jenny Tham about the beauty of jazz, the theories behind artwork and how wonderful the wine is. We definitely need to do this more.


7:40 pm Drunk


8:00 am Wake up in bed with the horrible realisation that I am late for work


I am not sure what happens really. I always reflect the day after when I am feeling a bit precious and I want nothing more than a cuddle. I try to figure the precise moment it happens. The moment your vision is distorted, when your speech becomes a bit slurred or your cheeks feel like they are on fire and then all of a sudden everything you drink seems to taste 'really amazing'. It is all over red rover by the time my brain figures it out.

I look back and think to myself, I should have seen the signs and then maybe, just maybe I would not have had that extra drink which tipped me over. Ok you got me, I would not have taken that extra sip that sent me over and then maybe, just maybe I would not have killed all those stick people either. I don't even remember the artwork, just a whirlwind of campbell soup, colourful imagery and distorted paintings of animals. Then bed.


I'm glad that I will be visiting the exhibition again when the Yankee arrives. It will be like my first time again. I might just hold off on that one glass of wine though.


Oh and just look at what I found in the urban dictionary:

Cadbury (ˈkædbərɪ)
Noun

1. A person who is easily affected by alcohol
2. Any individual who cannot hold their liquor
3. Minh

Who is more red?

Go figure.

Fifty shades of grey

Green and Co is one of my favourite chill out places in Perth. I often like to come here with either friends or just on my own. I could very easily spend a whole day here if time was not of the essence. I find it relaxes me and can sometimes give inspiration for a new blog topic.

Today, I am struggling to decide on a topic simply because there is so much I could write about. I am also very distracted by the buzz that this great little place gives. I take a small sip of my lovely soy latte hoping that an idea will soon pop in to my head.

Nope. Nada. Zilch. I still don't know what to write about.

As I ponder, a beautiful asian woman saunters in to the cafe and seats herself on the sofa opposite to me. I greet her and she dazzles me with a beautiful smile in return. Big eyes, perfect skin, full lips and wavy long hair that cascades around her shoulders. Bitch. Noone should be that beautiful except me of course. She makes herself comfortable and takes out a book. I glance at the title.


Fifty Shades of Grey. Ha. I grin inside knowing full well what that book is about. Dirty girl.

Brilliant.

How could I not write about this book? This book has taken the world by storm, evidenced by being number 1 on the top 100 bestseller list on Amazon. You cannot escape it, it is the most common conversation topic between women everywhere these days. Finally, a book about our deepest darkest desires, well maybe not that dark but definitely a fantasy of many women. We love it. Men hate it. Although I am sure they will not be complaining about the sudden spike in libido levels.

Interesting fact. Adult stores across Australia have seen an 80 percent jump in sales for items mentioned in the book. That's right. Even the equestrian stores are enjoying the increase in sales for 'non-horse' related sales of riding crops. Haha.

Reminds me of the saying "If we knew eachother's secrets, what comforts we should find". I never completely understood this saying when I first heard it, but now I fully understand it. Desires, fantasies, deep and what we thought were dark now all come to light because of this book. It is comforting to know that many women have, to some degree, a dirty mind.

This book has been my life this past week, desperately read in every spare moment at home, secretly at work and even at traffic light intersections. I am already half way through the second book of the trilogy. Besides the erotic nature of this book (trust me, the shock value does wear off), EL James has done a marvellous job in developing the characters. I often hear myself talking out loud, well ok that is not something so unusual for me, either cursing, slapping or praising the actions of the characters, particularly Anastasia, throughout the book. I find myself giggling, laughing, getting cross and even blushing at different points of the story. I feel like I am there and that is what I think makes EL James a fantastic writer.

It has been a long time since I have so immensley enjoyed a novel so thank you EL James. Needless to say I am very pleased that this is a trilogy as it will prolong my enjoyment. I will be distraught as the story comes to an end but you know what they say - all good things must come to an end. But lucky for me that end is not today. Back to the book.

Laters babes...!

Posted with Blogsy

Friday the 13th and the allied health care team.

Hello I'm the gingerbread man! Let's be friends!

Oh hey now there... Ho ho that's a bit rough. My physiotherapist is not going to like that!

Ok now you have also pissed off my occupational therapist!

Oh my god! Not the buttons! Get me my nurse! I am naked and I need to be cared for!

Can I please talk to my social worker?

Happy Friday the 13th!

Posted with Blogsy

Little Red Riding Hood

I never thought I could love again after George. He was beautiful. Sure, he was a bit cranky at the best of times but that was George. He was my old boy blue. I think of him often, wishing I had really cherished the last time I had had with him. Everything was just so rushed in that final moment with me running out the door for the last time, dragging my oversized suitcase behind me. I was late for the train again. Even after two years of frequently using public transport, I still did not get it right. But that was all he ever knew of me, always running, always late and always rushing him to get anywhere. No wonder he was so cranky.

I didn't want to look back. I wanted to be ignorant of the fact that I would never see him again. I wanted to pretend that it was like any other short holiday I had taken, promising that I'd be back so soon that he wouldn't even know that I had gone. I chanced a sneak peek. There he was. If he was upset, he didn't show it. He looked a little worn, older and majestic even. My heart wanted to break, so I turned back before it had a chance and kept running.

I truly lost a part of me that day.

When I first saw her picture I was hesitant. She was gorgeous and you could tell that she had a vibrant personality. But George was still on my mind, I didn't want her. I was content with Alfred aka Alfie, a long time companion of my parents. The Yankee was persistant. I think he knew it would be good for me to meet her. So he flew me over to Sydney, put me up in a beautiful hotel and had sent me a long email in preparation for when I met her.

I did not warm to her when we first met. Not like I had with George. The Yankee loved her and immediately made arrangements for her to become a permanant part of our lives. Even when she arrived that early July morning, I was still distant. I know she was confused and even hurt at my aloofness. But the truth is I had put up a defence wall, scared to love her like I had loved George. I couldn't keep that wall up for long though. She was fun, feisty and hard to control sometimes. You could not miss her when she was present. A vast difference to Alfred, who was always grumpy, full of groans and getting on a bit in his years.

I couldn't help but love her.

Welcome to the family little red riding hood

Little Red Riding Hood

 

Alfie looking senile as ever

RIP George

 

Posted with Blogsy