"The happiest place on earth"

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Sunday, January 04, 2004

Back to work tomorrow. Why can't I be a mainland chinese girl doing hospitality at KDU who hooked up with some rich old man??

I think I'd be a pretty good tai tai. I have most of the basic tai tai skills down pat already:

a) Abusing the domestic help
b) Organising mahjong sessions
c) Going for tai chi / line dance / meditation / yoga classes at a community center
d) Spending money

This morning, after spending a few minutes listening to the engine of destruction was Gabriel's snoring, I flogged his bulk into consciousness and after our ablutions, his parents were kind enough to ferry us to Tiong Bahru for breakfast. It dawned upon me that after virtually every drinking session during these banzai trips down south, I *always* have mee pok the following morning. Strange how habits can form without you noticing.

Bought several tubes of grape-flavoured Mentos. Always wondered why we don't have those in KL. I shall show these treasures from afar to all and sundry at work tomorrow. Their expressions of wonderment shall brighten my day.

As I crossed the border into JB, the effluent smells and the teeming chaos of Malaysia overwhelmed me at the checkpoint; and it dawned on me that that was the feeling of home - you could feel it at the border, crossing from the Realm of Order to the Realm of Chaos; from the polished marble floors of the Singapore-side checkpoint, to the stained cermaic tiling on the JB side - in the stagnant drains and taxi drivers harrassing passersby for business; watching as the crowd seemed to break from ordered, steady lines into a morass of people flooding the passport counters - and I felt a memory I need to hold on to - the memory of how good it is to be back here, despite having lost everything, amidst the crowds and noises and corners, and smells, and alleys and angles; all of that chaos singing clarion to me.

The drive from Dim's place back to KL was surprisingly crowded, as he was ferrying a couple of other people from JB. One of them had the unfortunate name of Keng Dik (sp?); the other was a junior of mine from Melbourne who did IT as well. On the trip back, I learnt much about the intricacies of Nata di Coco (a conversation that largely revolved around the miraculous properties of coconut husk), as well as taking home, once again, an awareness that these days too many people know too many other people.

Ate KFC at Ayer Keroh. First time eating in one of those "bridge-over-the-highway restaurants".

And now, as the sounds of my parents watching yet *another* Anita Mui tribute concert on TV filter into my room despite my best efforts to soundproof the door, I think I'll get some sleep, because tomorrow is going to be hellish with the double whammy of the NKVE being closed while Samy Vellu carts away rock, and the school holidays ending. It will be a long slog, full of mind-convuluting planning, and reflex-testing trials. And that's just the journey to work.

Ours not to reason why.

Friend (at party): "What's it like working in Malaysia?"

Me: "One word defines it. Traffic."

(on being stuck in a jam once, in sight of a turn-off into a carpark, less than 50m away, that took me an hour to get to through the congestion on the main road) "Reject the concept of distance. Embrace the concept of traffic."
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