My religious weekend Part I / No..not Easter
Before anyone reads this: WARNING IT'S LONG. Its Part one of my weekend double bill.
Saturday morning. 19 degrees Celcius. The temperature equivalent of balmy here in dreary old London. Miracle of miracles, the sun was shining hard enough to break through the otherwise smog filled London skies. Motivation enough for me to decide to spend my Saturday outdoors. Got dressed in appropriately light clothing for a warm day. A chance to wear my new top! A brown tunic with a butterfly lace pattern on the hem of the collar Not too clingy and a cool fabric. Note to self: Must appropriate more colours for my wardrobe.
Dressed and raring to go after a quick breakfast-cum-lunch bowl of special K ,( will I get compensation for that quick plug for Kellogs I wonder??) I bounced into the living room to hunt down a Regina. Poai, alias Future Conquerer of Mountains Worldwide, (FCMW. Can also stand for Freaking Crazy Malaysian Woman) has gone off bouldering. Anyway, maybe not bounced. Jumped and landed with a great thump into the TV room. Not like its much of a distance to travel from my room to the TV area. Whoops..looks like she's all geared up to work. Papers scattered everywhere. Stats file open in front of her. Laptop screen full of data. I chose to ignore the fact that she obviously intended to work.
Me (chirpily): "HIHIHIHIHIHI ! Whatcha doing this afternoon?"
Reg (gives me an 'isnt it obvious what I'm doing' look): " My stats project"
Me: Ohhhhh.... wanna go 'hang kai' ?
Reg (now modelling a 'Wat the hell does that mean?' look): " what does 'hang kai' mean? "
Damn, my cantonese pronunciation is worse than I figured. At least I didn't accidentally insinuate that someone was pregnant this time.
Me: " Errr... u know 'hang kai' ...go walkies.. ?"
Reg: " Umm.. no sorry. I want to finish my project."
Me (slightly, deflated): " How 'bout tonite? "
Reg: " Going out to meet (insert name of significant other here). Why? "
Me: " Nothing. nothing." Curse her significant other..LOL..just kidding.
OK. Reg recruiting didn't pan out. Didn't have any concrete plans in any case. Doubtless she wouldnt have been interested if I confessed that my plans consisted of "aimlessly trawling the streets for the day" . Off I go to traverse the streets of London solo. 1/2 hour later I realise how much my leather shoes are pinching. Pain . Consider turning back to change footwear. Naahh..don't plan to be out long anyway.
2 hours later. Shooting dangerous glares at my shoes. Mentally conjuring up images of torture and projecting it to them. Willing them to comply and get comfy..or else.. God, look at me! Trying to threaten hunks of dead dried cow wrapper.
Getting bored of meandering in and out of stores. Feeling hungry. Catch sight of a poster for Constantine. Ding. Bright idea dawning. Appetitite sufficiently whetted( Keanu and food calling out to me ), I pick up the phone. Time to ring my dinner and movie partner. Unbelievable, its 3 in the afternoon and the woman was asleep! Still, 5 minutes of chatting to an extremely groggy Eelin and I'm in high spirits again. Made plans to have a Msian dinner at CnR then catch Constantine. Ring up FCMW , who is busy powering her way up rock faces. ( And plunging off them as I will later discover) Obviously, not everyone shares my enthusiasm for a Keanu filled night. I head into MnS, where I end up in a dressing room next to a pair of chronologically advanced Chinese ladies trying on bras. I burst out laughing as I catch snatches of their conversation filtering through the paper thin dividers.
Old Lady #1: " Wahhhh.. U buy the bra so big one! This kind off bra must wear revealing clothes to show off! Who you planning to show off to ah ?"
O.L. #2: " Tomorrow is my husband's birthday!"
Conspiratorial laughter between them ensues. I try not to choke as I simultaneously laugh and gag at the thought of a woman of advanced years sexing it up for her hubby. Not so funny when the sobering thought that old age is something I'll have to deal with someday too, occurs to me.
Fast forward to 6pm. I feel its been a good day. Sore feet aside. Was so tempted to buy a pair of black sandals with a cute velvet bow, to put on there and then. Guiltily remembering my virgin Diesel wedges back home, I refrained. Turns out E is going to be late. It IS a good day. Normally its me who's late. Wander into Virgin megastore, where I gaze longingly at all the games and start leafing through a book about Bruce Lee for the next half hour to distract myself.
At dinner, I'm slightly crushed when E confirms she doesnt wanna travel to Cornwall in a group. She's a one man band. A Lone Ranger. A solitary soul with only her shadow for company on her journeys. The single cherry on top of a chocolate sundae. Ridiculous analogies aside, she has her reasons. Not least because she doesn't want the pressure of having to make forced conversation with people she isn't familiar with. No awkward silences to contend with when you're flying solo. This get's me thinking. I 'm pretty sure there have been plenty of stretches of silence between us. I always figured them to be the comfortable type of silences. Now I'm not too sure.
2nd note to self: Keep up conversation with E at ALL COSTS. No matter how ridiculous the subject. Just talk out your ass. Shouldn't be too hard.
E wanted to find out about the C and R special sago pudding . A sago and gula melaka pud with special CnR sauce, according to the menu. She hailed the waitress.
E: "Excuse me , would you mind explaining what the CnR sauce is ? "
Waitress: " OHHH the source ah ? The C stands for my boss's name and the R for his wife's name."
E sits blinking in puzzlement. She tries her question about the sauce again. BREAKTHROUGH! wait.. maybe not...
Waitress: " Its a bitch sauce"
Er..does that mean the sauce is 'bitching'? Didnt figure a chinese girl for one to use that sort of slang. I guess we looked sufficiently clueless because she tried to elaborate.
Waitress: " Bitch ? Beecchh ..its a fwooot. A fwoot sauce."
We shake our heads to signify we understand at last. AAAAhhhhh a fwooott sauce. Of course. That clears it all up nicely.
Finally we figure out she means FRUIT sauce. Now what the heck kind off fruit sounds like 'bitch' ? We decide on peach. We also decided to pass on the dessert just in case it wasn't peach after all. Off we went to the ice cream parlour. Or the yoghurt masquerading as ice cream parlour, to be precise. ( The : "I cant believe its yoghurt" chain)
8.25pm. Constantine!
..to be continued....
Saturday morning. 19 degrees Celcius. The temperature equivalent of balmy here in dreary old London. Miracle of miracles, the sun was shining hard enough to break through the otherwise smog filled London skies. Motivation enough for me to decide to spend my Saturday outdoors. Got dressed in appropriately light clothing for a warm day. A chance to wear my new top! A brown tunic with a butterfly lace pattern on the hem of the collar Not too clingy and a cool fabric. Note to self: Must appropriate more colours for my wardrobe.
Dressed and raring to go after a quick breakfast-cum-lunch bowl of special K ,( will I get compensation for that quick plug for Kellogs I wonder??) I bounced into the living room to hunt down a Regina. Poai, alias Future Conquerer of Mountains Worldwide, (FCMW. Can also stand for Freaking Crazy Malaysian Woman) has gone off bouldering. Anyway, maybe not bounced. Jumped and landed with a great thump into the TV room. Not like its much of a distance to travel from my room to the TV area. Whoops..looks like she's all geared up to work. Papers scattered everywhere. Stats file open in front of her. Laptop screen full of data. I chose to ignore the fact that she obviously intended to work.
Me (chirpily): "HIHIHIHIHIHI ! Whatcha doing this afternoon?"
Reg (gives me an 'isnt it obvious what I'm doing' look): " My stats project"
Me: Ohhhhh.... wanna go 'hang kai' ?
Reg (now modelling a 'Wat the hell does that mean?' look): " what does 'hang kai' mean? "
Damn, my cantonese pronunciation is worse than I figured. At least I didn't accidentally insinuate that someone was pregnant this time.
Me: " Errr... u know 'hang kai' ...go walkies.. ?"
Reg: " Umm.. no sorry. I want to finish my project."
Me (slightly, deflated): " How 'bout tonite? "
Reg: " Going out to meet (insert name of significant other here). Why? "
Me: " Nothing. nothing." Curse her significant other..LOL..just kidding.
OK. Reg recruiting didn't pan out. Didn't have any concrete plans in any case. Doubtless she wouldnt have been interested if I confessed that my plans consisted of "aimlessly trawling the streets for the day" . Off I go to traverse the streets of London solo. 1/2 hour later I realise how much my leather shoes are pinching. Pain . Consider turning back to change footwear. Naahh..don't plan to be out long anyway.
2 hours later. Shooting dangerous glares at my shoes. Mentally conjuring up images of torture and projecting it to them. Willing them to comply and get comfy..or else.. God, look at me! Trying to threaten hunks of dead dried cow wrapper.
Getting bored of meandering in and out of stores. Feeling hungry. Catch sight of a poster for Constantine. Ding. Bright idea dawning. Appetitite sufficiently whetted( Keanu and food calling out to me ), I pick up the phone. Time to ring my dinner and movie partner. Unbelievable, its 3 in the afternoon and the woman was asleep! Still, 5 minutes of chatting to an extremely groggy Eelin and I'm in high spirits again. Made plans to have a Msian dinner at CnR then catch Constantine. Ring up FCMW , who is busy powering her way up rock faces. ( And plunging off them as I will later discover) Obviously, not everyone shares my enthusiasm for a Keanu filled night. I head into MnS, where I end up in a dressing room next to a pair of chronologically advanced Chinese ladies trying on bras. I burst out laughing as I catch snatches of their conversation filtering through the paper thin dividers.
Old Lady #1: " Wahhhh.. U buy the bra so big one! This kind off bra must wear revealing clothes to show off! Who you planning to show off to ah ?"
O.L. #2: " Tomorrow is my husband's birthday!"
Conspiratorial laughter between them ensues. I try not to choke as I simultaneously laugh and gag at the thought of a woman of advanced years sexing it up for her hubby. Not so funny when the sobering thought that old age is something I'll have to deal with someday too, occurs to me.
Fast forward to 6pm. I feel its been a good day. Sore feet aside. Was so tempted to buy a pair of black sandals with a cute velvet bow, to put on there and then. Guiltily remembering my virgin Diesel wedges back home, I refrained. Turns out E is going to be late. It IS a good day. Normally its me who's late. Wander into Virgin megastore, where I gaze longingly at all the games and start leafing through a book about Bruce Lee for the next half hour to distract myself.
At dinner, I'm slightly crushed when E confirms she doesnt wanna travel to Cornwall in a group. She's a one man band. A Lone Ranger. A solitary soul with only her shadow for company on her journeys. The single cherry on top of a chocolate sundae. Ridiculous analogies aside, she has her reasons. Not least because she doesn't want the pressure of having to make forced conversation with people she isn't familiar with. No awkward silences to contend with when you're flying solo. This get's me thinking. I 'm pretty sure there have been plenty of stretches of silence between us. I always figured them to be the comfortable type of silences. Now I'm not too sure.
2nd note to self: Keep up conversation with E at ALL COSTS. No matter how ridiculous the subject. Just talk out your ass. Shouldn't be too hard.
E wanted to find out about the C and R special sago pudding . A sago and gula melaka pud with special CnR sauce, according to the menu. She hailed the waitress.
E: "Excuse me , would you mind explaining what the CnR sauce is ? "
Waitress: " OHHH the source ah ? The C stands for my boss's name and the R for his wife's name."
E sits blinking in puzzlement. She tries her question about the sauce again. BREAKTHROUGH! wait.. maybe not...
Waitress: " Its a bitch sauce"
Er..does that mean the sauce is 'bitching'? Didnt figure a chinese girl for one to use that sort of slang. I guess we looked sufficiently clueless because she tried to elaborate.
Waitress: " Bitch ? Beecchh ..its a fwooot. A fwoot sauce."
We shake our heads to signify we understand at last. AAAAhhhhh a fwooott sauce. Of course. That clears it all up nicely.
Finally we figure out she means FRUIT sauce. Now what the heck kind off fruit sounds like 'bitch' ? We decide on peach. We also decided to pass on the dessert just in case it wasn't peach after all. Off we went to the ice cream parlour. Or the yoghurt masquerading as ice cream parlour, to be precise. ( The : "I cant believe its yoghurt" chain)
8.25pm. Constantine!
..to be continued....