Why am I going back to cold weather and whinging poms?

I am sitting on my ikea couch, finally having a moment to still my mind and be conscious of my nearly emptied out shed (aka my granny flat). My life has been neatly packed into 4 boxes.

I am finally here, but it certainly did not feel quick to get here.

My life for the last year has been entirely consumed by this move to England and with it, of course, came a roller coaster of emotions.

I suppose it is time to let the cat out of the bag.

Please do not try this at home.

I am pregnant.

Just kidding. But this is what I told my mum right before I announced that I was moving back to England. So you could say that she took the news well once she had recovered from the pregnant statement because apparently, nothing could be worse than a single asian pregnant woman in the twentieth century.

Next came the million dollar question, "Why?". So I rambled on about how life in the UK was great, less sun, more rain, cold weather, fantastic lifestyle etc. She saw straight through this and in more or less words, told me to cut the bullshit.

"You are doing this for a boy".

Yup. She hit the nail on the head.

I suppose I should explain.

When it comes to talking about my current relationship status, I always approach with caution. I have this irrational fear that if I announce a new love loudly and proudly, I will jinx myself. Of course this would mean the immediate demise of the relationship and the world would end and worse of all, another ex would be added to my ex collection. So for irrational reasons, I kept this quiet to the world by not changing my relationship status on Facebook.

But now that crunch time is in 8 more days, I guess I really should let the cat out of the bag. Just who is this mysterious man that managed to trick me into moving my whole life over to the England? Well. You know the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words...

The Bindian

We had met ages ago in 2010 but we finally got together last year when I went to visit the UK. Now he will tell you that I tricked him into this long distance relationship but don't be fooled. Just look at his picture, would you trust that face?

Unfortunately, I did. 

Now I find myself in an empty shed with a one way ticket to London :).

My decision to go was not always met with positive responses. Particularly since I had made the decision in a week after we had only been dating for a few months. Yeah I can see why family and close friends were screaming about red flags popping up everywhere. But I could also see me holding a big green flag and doing the macarena. It is all about perspective, I am 30 with another, hopefully, 40 years ahead of me. I am young, so now is the best time to take risks and take chances because there is plenty of time ahead to make up for anything that needs to be made up.

Besides, sometimes you know that a decision is right for you, even if there is no clear logic behind it, because it just feels right.

Now here I sit, packed.
I have my sponsorship visa in hand.
I have my airplane ticket.
I have a job to go to.
I have my life.

Now all there is left to do is to just go.

But geez louise I am hating these goodbyes.

He loves me

From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I was caught hook, line and sinker.

My love level went from 0 km per hour to 220 in an instant.

I loved him whole heartedly and I did not even know him. 

It was a dangerous kind of love. 

The kind that knew no boundaries, no conditions and no limits. 

I was a goner from the start.

You could say that I was transient for large chunks in time. So I suppose he never had the chance to get to know me well. I guess that kind of makes me feel better if I think of it that way.

But in hindsight, I do not know how I managed to get through every physical and emotional rejection that he threw my way.

I would try to give him a hug. He would push me away.

I would try to kiss him on the cheek. He would turn his head.

I would say hello. He would refuse to say it back.

He would clearly state no to every expression of love that I offered to him. It was gut-wrenching. But still I would come back for more.

I tried different tactics and strategies based on advice from friends and family.

"Spend more time with him"

"Maybe you are just too full on"

"Bribe him with food"

"Try not to look too eager"

I did this. I did that. I did it for the last two years. It didn't feel like anything was changing. It didn't feel like our relationship had improved.

But then just the other day, something amazing happened.

I told him that I had to go. He asked me to stay for ten minutes longer.

I asked him for a hug. He walked into my arms willingly.

I told him that I was leaving for England, he asked me why would I do that?

I promised him that we would Skype. He agreed as long as we skyped for every day that I was out of Perth.

I told him that I would visit next year. He said okay, but when I did come to visit, could I just stay?

***
These photos are a little bit outdated but for some reason he does not like to take photos (especially with me). I am working on it though.

It has not been easy. But I suppose the things that are worth it never usually are.

Creative writing challenge (Oldie): Short fiction horror

So in the last year or so I have been dabbling in random creative writing challenges. 

I wrote this one a few months ago in response to "What is the best horror short-story you can come up with?"

Enjoy.

*** 
“I want you,” I whispered in to her ear.
 
She gazed up at me totally infatuated with my cocky smile and my grey intense eyes. I had her exactly where I wanted. She was a pretty little thing. Brunette. Just the way I liked them.
 
“We really shouldn’t.” 
 
I responded by nuzzling into her ear, making her gasp. I knew it would not take her long to succumb. They all eventually did.
 
“No. Please stop. I don't want this.”
 
Lies. All lies. They would all resist to begin with, pretending to guard their virtue only to be begging me to take them in the end. I continued to kiss her neck, despite her struggle to push me away. I gently placed both of my hands on her shoulders to calm her and to also secure her incase she tried to run.
 
I liked it here. It was perfect. I would take them on a ‘date’ followed by a romantic stroll deep into the woods. 
 
‘There is this beautiful lake where you can see the sun set and the moon too if it decides to come out and play.’ I would say. 
‘Oh how lovely, do show me!’ They would always respond.
 
They would all shriek in delight at the view once the woods opened to reveal the lake. It really was magnificent. The stars are always so bright and so clear, never having to compete with any other light since the closest town was so far far away. 
 
She was starting to struggle a bit. 
 
“You are hurting me.”
 
“Have you noticed how peaceful and how quiet it is here?” I asked in a silky voice while tightening my grip. 
 
“Let me go!”
 
“Did you know that trees are natural sound barriers?” I whispered.
 
In one quick move, I had her pinned to the ground. Her flimsy dress had ridden up in the process, revealing her thighs. 
 
“And do you know what that means, my dear?” I continued.
 
Her panicked look excited me. She slowly shook her head.
 
I leant down to whisper in her ear. “It means that noone can hear you scream.”
 
The moon had now risen and was showing its full ugly face. Oh how I loved it when the full moon was out to play while I was out to play.  I got a kick out of knowing that the moon had and would be ‘watching me’ commit this act yet it could never reveal my little secret. 
 
I paused to admire the moon before turning my attention back to her. She was facing away from me.
 
“What was it that you said about the trees being a natural sound barrier?” She asked.
 
I was taken aback. By now they were usually beside themselves, hysterical and begging to be let go. But she wasn’t any of these. She was still and she was calm. Her head was still turned away from me.
 
“That noone can hear you scream,” I smirked.
 
She began to slowly turn her head back towards me. But something was wrong. As she turned, the moonlight began to reveal some kind of creature with a distorted and twisted face that had rotting flesh falling off its cheekbones. Her eyes were just black pupils. 
 
I screamed falling backwards off her. Off it. 
 
She or it grinned to reveal sharp shark like teeth. I didn't even have a chance to run before she pounced on me, holding me down with her claw like fingers.
 
She leant down towards my ear. All I could smell was rotting flesh. “That’s what I thought you said” she snarled.

***
If you are feeling creative, write me one. X

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.