FUNNYACCENT

0809

Wishing everyone a wonderful New Year of 2009.

We get a second snow storm today. There goes my plan to go and check out the ice sculptures around the city.

 

Shrink

Two things that I'm positive about shrinking from me as I get older. First, my height, now I stand 5' 1 1/2" and second is the cells in my brain. I know about the brain exercises, learning something new, readings, be creative and all those things. I think I'm pretty good at getting them in order, but darn this morning was not the first time I forgot to turn Mr. Coffemaker's button on.

I poured in two cups of water and two scoops of ground coffee and went into a living room to finish my reading. Five pages later, I was back in the kitchen but I didn't hear Mr. Coffeemaker purring as his way of telling me he was done. I touched him. He was cold. No steam, no heat from him. Bummer. I slapped my forehead with my hand when I was upset with myself.

I wanted to go out running around 8:00 am. It's warm outside and we didn't get much of 50 degree during winter. Because of my shrinking braincells, I spent another 45 minutes to enjoy my morning coffee.

I have to give some credit to myself though because in the past I would've had passed the coffee and refused to compromise with my plan. I acted like the beach won't be there if I went out an hour late.

So, getting old is not that bad after all, eh?

Snow Is Melting

Have a wonderful Christmas

Snow In, Snow Out

  The snow on the sidewalks have been cleared when I got to Downtown this morning. The air was crispy like anytime after the snowstorm.

It was snowing again when I stepped out of the gym two hours later. The side walks weren't as busy as usual Saturdays, but the stores and mall were packed with shopper.

I have a 40% coupon from Border Books and first thought was to grab Thousand Splendid Suns that had just came out in paperback. But the line was too long, it snaked up to an elevated floor, I put back the book on the shelf and walked to the subway station. Thousand Splendid Suns can wait.

Left Behind by Snow Storm

Yesterday we got our first major snow storm  of the year. The snow started to fall before noon. When I left my office at five after twelve, the ground was covered by thin layer of snow. Since  I don't own a TV nor I listen to local radio station I had no idea our beloved Mayor Menino had declared the state of emergency.

Only when my supervisor call me around 11:430 a.m from some place where he and Division Director were picking up presents for the residents donated by various agencies and individuals that I learned as usual I've always left behind as about every damn thing.

Supervisor: Ana. what are you still doing in your office?

Me: Hellloooooo.(meaning:Duhhh)........I'm finishing the report and trying to eat my salad at the same time.

Supervisor: Very cute, very cute. I know that tone. Save whatever you are doing and go home.

Me: I have another 30 minutes. I want to finish this report first. I w.......

Supervisor: Sorry I cut you off, but go home. Don't you know we're getting major snow storm this afternoon?

Me: Yes, the clients told me this morning. And K (our House Manager) also mentioned about it this morning before she left to the Food Bank.

Supervisor: So, why are you still there?. Go home, okay. I'll see you on Monday.

Me: Okay, okay. See you on Monday. Have a lovely weekend.

I finished the clients' report anyway. Printed them, filed them and saved them.

It's 10 before 9:00 am. I'm sipping my coffee in a new mug, a gift from my dear good friend, Prisca. In a few minutes I'm getting ready to go to the gym. Hopefully they open. And I will post some gorgeous snow covered buildings, trees, benches and grounds when I get back.

Love Is Everywhere

At Quincy Adams Train Station

My Sweet, Crunchy Red Ruby

If I were a mother I would have told the same tale to my child about red ruby the way my grandmother told me forty six years ago. It was 1963, I had just turned six, sitting on a faded red cement front steps at grandmother's house in Batu Uban, Penang. My two younger brothers sat on each side of me with ripe pomegranate in their hands. 

I set aside the pomegranate in my hand.  I laced my fingers of my both hands. The laced fingers form a solid foundation. I told my youngest brother M to place his pomegranate in a cradle  of my laced fingers.

I leaned forward with each of my elbows rested on my knees. Slowly but firmly I pressed the pomegranate between my palms.  The pomegranates grew in Malaysia weren't as big as we get here. The seeds were faded red, but they were as good as we got.

The skin of the fruit started to crack. I dug my right thumb into a tiny slit of the skin and ran my thumb as precisely as a six year old kid could be. I had my two younger siblings who thought I was the smartest and the best big sister because I ran fast, I could climb any trees like a monkey, I could fly the kite as high as any kid could, I could use a sling shot with a slick movement. I couldn't fail them by not able to crack open the pomegranate.

M squealed and clapped his hands when the pomegranate finally broke into two halves. A few of red ruby slipped between my fingers and fell on the stairs near my feet.

"Pick them up, pick them up and put them back in my hands." I ordered M who was now drooling and couldn't wait to grab the fruit from my hand.   
"Don't let even one seed fall on the ground, not even one."

"Mak said not pick up the food off the ground."

"This is different. Pomegranate is ruby in disguise."

"Like pomegranate wearing a mask? And what is ruby"?

"Something like that."

"Like a Batman's mask?"

"Something like that. I'll tell you later."

As I handed over T's split opened pomegranate I repeated the tale  about a girl who bit a red ruby while eating pomegranate. Grandmother told me this tale when had just moved back to her house . The year my father was shipped to Congo.

Four years ago when I wrote an entry about a pomegranate I was in full blown against some tales the old folks told us when we were kids. Along those years until now, I've shifted a little here and there. And the tale of pomegranate I've seen in different light.

Perhaps there were reasons when the old folks came up with some stories that now we view as myth/tales.

As we grow older our sense of wonder turn into skeptical. If we are not careful we will turn into an old bitter fart. And I don't want to turn into an old bitter fart. I want to hold to some sense of wonder, I want to feel my lung bursting with happiness and my heart explode into million pieces of contentment just when I step on the wet grass on Sunday morning.

I'm glad I believed with all my heart that I would bit into a ruby when ever I age pomegranate  when I was a little girl.

Lungful of Air

I've been rude for  letting my dear and lovely cyber friends visit my site and to find an unupdated entries. For that, I ask you to forgive me.

I think people who enjoy writing always make sure they put aside a specific time to write down their thoughts, feelings and experiences. I do too, but (yes, there is BUT) I've let my work consumes me.

I still go to the spinning class twice a week, cardio kick once a week and do some free weight session after those classes. I haven't run outside since a New York trip. I've missed an euphoria bliss when I run.

No excuse, no excuse........I've been reminding myself. And yet when I get home either from the gym or from a long day at work, all I've been doing is  stretching  on a couch and listen to smooth jazz @The Oasis . Perhaps not everyone feels the heat, but for all of us at the agency feel like we're standing in a kitchen in a hot summer afternoon with all the stoves are on.

No more relief staff. And it is not as bad as getting more and more clients with undiagnosed mental health issues and they're on a long wait list. What a mess.

What ever it is I need to take a lungful of air and remind myself, my well being is more important than anything else.

Not too late to wish Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha, eh?

 

ote: Photos from last month trip to New York. With Dizery outside Beads of Paradise store on 7th. Avenue.

Saturday afternoon outside Times Square subsway station, waiting to meet Dizery for the first time.