Since I was a very young girl, I had always thought everyone should have her/his own bedroom even after marriage.
It's not that I had never moved in with someone else and shared a bed with them, I have done a couple of times or more in my life.
But not having your own room for the rest of your life?
Wouldn't you want to have a freedom to choose whatever duvet cover you like?
Whouldn't you want to have a "me-moment" anytime you like?(I'm not talking about self-love here, if you are thinking of it.)
Wouldn't you want to listen to a piece of music you like to make you fall asleep nicely?
Why would you want to give up all the above and more just because you are married?
When I got married to my husband, I asked him if it was acceptable to have separate bedrooms.
"No, Babe. I don't think so."
Oh, okay.
I guessed that's part of being married and sharing "life" with someone.
Sharing a bed every single day wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
It was a bit stressful at first as my husband was a very light sleeper, making it difficult for me to relax.
But these days he usually sleeps like a log and even snores at times.(I was tempted to draw eyes on his eyelids several times but have never tried it. )
However, I was kind of forced to sleep on the floor in my son's room for the past two nights because my husband caught a cold again. I wanted him to be able to sleep well and I didn't want to get the nasty germ from him. Also, he has been wearing the same pair of pants for three nights and hasn't taken shower since Saturday morning. Yaik.
Now I shoud be getting some sleep but I am sitting in front of the computer typing this because I can't sleep.
See?
If I had had my own bedroom, I would have been sleeping soundly whether or not my husband had a cold.
2 Dec 2008
1 Dec 2008
The 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
A friend of mine sent me the link of an article of Guardian.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2008/dec/01/foreign-office-human-rights
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2008/dec/01/foreign-office-human-rights
20 Nov 2008
In This Rain, in this Place
On the first page of Sula, Toni Morrison writes this dedication;
"It is sheer good fortune to miss somebody long before they leave you.This book is for Ford and Slade, whom I miss although they have not left me."
What do you call this in English? "Cherish"?
Today on the way home, after walking my son to school in the morning, I had to take the other footpath in the woods due to some construction work on my regular route.
Walking on the muddy road that's covered with dead leaves, I was regretting again about not having bought a pair of rain boots. Even with an umbrella, English misty rain moistened my face and hair.
There is a pond near the end of the woods. The water was clear, so I could see all the broken branches and colorful leaves in the pond. Their stillness made the water looked like jelly.
Then I looked up. There were a few tens of ducks, some moorhens and a Canadian goose, all lined up as immobile as the Sphinx.
It felt like I was witnessing a solemn ceremony.
I just don't love these moments in life; I adore and cherish them.
I think it's because we know nothing lasts forever.
And I know I will leave here someday.
I miss England although I haven't left it yet.
37 Hours
My husband had been trying to convert me into a Kristin Hersh listener since, I don't know, 2005 or something.
He had never been successful.
Every time he played her album, it got on my nerves. Something about her voice irritated me.
I like rock. I mean the rock that really ROCKS and blows your mind, I said.
Kristin Hersh rocks too, he objected.
After 1 and a half years of long-distance marriage period, we were finally reunited.
He was still a lobbyist for Kristin. But this time I was able to listen to her just a little, except for my premenstrual period. Just a little.
Apparently, his good friend Rob said he would tell a woman who doesn't appreciate Kristin Hersh to "Pick up your panties and get out."
I'd happily pick up my panties and gladly get out, I thought.
For the past 6 days, however, I've been listening to nothing but Kristin Hersh. .Her solo album Sunny Border Blue and University, with Throwing Muses.
I don't know what happened inside me but I like her music now.
I was sweeping the kitchen floor on my knees to 37 Hours, the 3rd track of Sunny Border Blue when my husband came in.
"Looks like you passed Pick Up Your Panties and Get Out Test after all." he said.
"I don't care about your test." I said coldly without looking up his face.
Immediately I sensed his disappointment was filling up the room. I quickly turned around and said, "Well I guess your efforts finally bore fruit." He smiled contently.
Every marriage needs a little lie sometimes.
But...hey wait. It wasn't a polite lie after all.
He had never been successful.
Every time he played her album, it got on my nerves. Something about her voice irritated me.
I like rock. I mean the rock that really ROCKS and blows your mind, I said.
Kristin Hersh rocks too, he objected.
After 1 and a half years of long-distance marriage period, we were finally reunited.
He was still a lobbyist for Kristin. But this time I was able to listen to her just a little, except for my premenstrual period. Just a little.
Apparently, his good friend Rob said he would tell a woman who doesn't appreciate Kristin Hersh to "Pick up your panties and get out."
I'd happily pick up my panties and gladly get out, I thought.
For the past 6 days, however, I've been listening to nothing but Kristin Hersh. .Her solo album Sunny Border Blue and University, with Throwing Muses.
I don't know what happened inside me but I like her music now.
I was sweeping the kitchen floor on my knees to 37 Hours, the 3rd track of Sunny Border Blue when my husband came in.
"Looks like you passed Pick Up Your Panties and Get Out Test after all." he said.
"I don't care about your test." I said coldly without looking up his face.
Immediately I sensed his disappointment was filling up the room. I quickly turned around and said, "Well I guess your efforts finally bore fruit." He smiled contently.
Every marriage needs a little lie sometimes.
But...hey wait. It wasn't a polite lie after all.
13 Nov 2008
1993, Kuala Lumpur
It was lunch hour at Marco Polo. No one but the senior staff were eating in the retaurant.
I was standing near the big ceiling-to-floor window, looking at the reflection on the opposite building. It looked scorching outside. Derick was walking towards me.
He noticed the tears on my cheek.
"Is it Soon?" asked the man.
I turned my head to look at him and smiled wearily.
Derick was just about the same height as I was but somehow it hardly occurred to me. He was wearing a well-ironed crisp powder pink shirt and black trousers. Typical outfit for an office worker in Kuala Lumpur but he always managed to look neater than other Chinese men. I looked away from him.
"Soon caught me in somebody else's bed this morning."
"Who? You mean..."
"Yes, him."
Derick shook his head. Yeah, I know.
"How did Soon find out where you were?"
"Obviously, he's got a spy. He asked around. "
"Did he hit you?"
"No."
Just left some bruises on my arm when he grabbed it, I thought.
Some customers came in and Mei, the hostess was taking them to a table.
"I'll see you later, ah?"Derick turned and walked away.
The staff; Big Chef, Betty the accountant, Steven the manager, KC the BBQ chef, Jenny the assistant manager and Mao Wong the maintenance guy were still eating. They were about to reach for their dessert. Pakistan mango, that is. I sighed and went to take the order of table 3 with "smile of the day" pasted on my face.
8:00p.m. It was Friday and all the private rooms were full. Mr.Lim, the owner of Marco Polo walked in after his kids for a usual weekend dinner with his parents. He was smiling, which meant he wasn't in a bad mood, which meant Steven could spend his evening talking and drinking with his customers happily.
Someone called my name when I came out from Room B, after taking an order from a group of Japanese business men. It was Eric. Eric was a bodyguard. His boss was the chairman of one of Malaysia's biggest banks. He was standing next to the door of Room V.
"Hi, Ma Yau Yui."
"Hi, Eric. Are you stalking me again?"
"I wish I were. It's my busy boss I have to follow around."He smiled."So when are we going out?"
"Soon, Eric. Some time soon." I started walking towards the kitchen.
"How soon?"
I shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. It hurt, ever so slightly.
The kitchen was noisy as usual with the shouting chefs and the head waitress, Ah Yok's voice. Ah Yok's job is not just waitressing. She usually stands at the entrance of the kitchen, tells the chefs what orders they've got, what's behind the schedule and what should be done next. In a way, the kitchen will be congested without her.
"Ah Yok. How much do we charge for a sultan fish for 10 people?"I asked her, still holding a pen and the ordering paper in my hands. She shouted the same question in Cantonese into the kitchen. The assistant chief chef shouted something back.
"200 ringgit."She translated.
"200? OK, no sultan. Pomfret instead." I passed the order strip to Ah Yok and walked into the kitchen towards the assistant chief chef. "Ah Leong. Two-Fish fried rice for 10 people, 20ringgit, can or cannot?"
"Cannot lah, Ma Yau Yui. Hou siu ah(it's very little)"
"No problem. They drink, no eat. Ga(Add) just a little extra for them."
"Ok lah." Leong agreed. I smiled and carefully walked on the wet and slippery kitchen floor back to where Ah Yok was standing. I wrote another order and passed it to her.
"Come. Pakistan mango for Room B. On the house."
11:00p.m. Most of the customers had left but Tan Sri and his guests were still in Room V. I could hear Steven and Jenny, singing a duet of a famous Mandarin song. I went into Room B to help clearing the big round tables. Ong was there.
"Hello Leng Jai!" I greeted him cheerfully.
"Leng Neui."He replied, smiling.
I started clearing the table with him. Some waitresses said something to Ong. He said something back to them rather sharply. I looked at him, with my eyebrows raised for translation.
"Ma Yau Yui, you'll get scolded. A manager shouldn't be doing such thing."
I felt something warm in my chest.
"What can I do as a manager, Ong? I can't speak Cantonese. I can't talk to Tan Sri in Room V because I don't know what to talk about."
"You CAN speak Cantonese!"
"Yeah right. Dirty words."
Ong chuckled.
"Tan Sri will be really amused to hear you say dirty words in Cantonese."
"I bet he will." I winked and passed the tray with a mammoth amount of glasses on it to one of the waitresses who said something to Ong earlier. She puffed out her cheeks but I ignored it.
I left Room B, closing the door behind me. I saw Eric leaning against the bar counter. He was talking something into his walkie-talkie. He caught me on the corner of his brown eye and told me to wait with his index finger. The noise from the radio was gone.
"Tan Sri is going to a nightclub now. Jenny is coming, too. Aren't you coming with us, Leng Neui?"
"No. I think your boss has enough leng neuis to occupy the room at the nightclub."
"Well, I'll be very happy if you are there."
All of a suddden, I felt exhausted. I couldn't care less. Must leave!
"Good night, Leng Jai."
When I finally got changed and came out of the restaurant, it was neary midnight. From the escalator outside the entrance, I saw four other bodyguards of Tan Sri standing a few meters away from the stairs. Two more were in Tan Sri's Mercedes. One of them, talking into his walkie-talkie waved me good bye as I was getting off the escalator. I smiled and waved him good bye back. It was a bit humid but cool night for Kuala Lumpur. I closed my eyes to feel the breeze. A tanned Chinese guy in the blue shirt and jeans was standing next to the newspaper stand in front of the building I'd just come out from. It was Soon.
I walked towards him without a word. He kissed me on my cheek gently and put his arm over my shoulder. We started walking. Still, neither of us said nothing.
I looked up at the starless gray sky, helplessly, with my sinking heart.
I was standing near the big ceiling-to-floor window, looking at the reflection on the opposite building. It looked scorching outside. Derick was walking towards me.
He noticed the tears on my cheek.
"Is it Soon?" asked the man.
I turned my head to look at him and smiled wearily.
Derick was just about the same height as I was but somehow it hardly occurred to me. He was wearing a well-ironed crisp powder pink shirt and black trousers. Typical outfit for an office worker in Kuala Lumpur but he always managed to look neater than other Chinese men. I looked away from him.
"Soon caught me in somebody else's bed this morning."
"Who? You mean..."
"Yes, him."
Derick shook his head. Yeah, I know.
"How did Soon find out where you were?"
"Obviously, he's got a spy. He asked around. "
"Did he hit you?"
"No."
Just left some bruises on my arm when he grabbed it, I thought.
Some customers came in and Mei, the hostess was taking them to a table.
"I'll see you later, ah?"Derick turned and walked away.
The staff; Big Chef, Betty the accountant, Steven the manager, KC the BBQ chef, Jenny the assistant manager and Mao Wong the maintenance guy were still eating. They were about to reach for their dessert. Pakistan mango, that is. I sighed and went to take the order of table 3 with "smile of the day" pasted on my face.
8:00p.m. It was Friday and all the private rooms were full. Mr.Lim, the owner of Marco Polo walked in after his kids for a usual weekend dinner with his parents. He was smiling, which meant he wasn't in a bad mood, which meant Steven could spend his evening talking and drinking with his customers happily.
Someone called my name when I came out from Room B, after taking an order from a group of Japanese business men. It was Eric. Eric was a bodyguard. His boss was the chairman of one of Malaysia's biggest banks. He was standing next to the door of Room V.
"Hi, Ma Yau Yui."
"Hi, Eric. Are you stalking me again?"
"I wish I were. It's my busy boss I have to follow around."He smiled."So when are we going out?"
"Soon, Eric. Some time soon." I started walking towards the kitchen.
"How soon?"
I shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. It hurt, ever so slightly.
The kitchen was noisy as usual with the shouting chefs and the head waitress, Ah Yok's voice. Ah Yok's job is not just waitressing. She usually stands at the entrance of the kitchen, tells the chefs what orders they've got, what's behind the schedule and what should be done next. In a way, the kitchen will be congested without her.
"Ah Yok. How much do we charge for a sultan fish for 10 people?"I asked her, still holding a pen and the ordering paper in my hands. She shouted the same question in Cantonese into the kitchen. The assistant chief chef shouted something back.
"200 ringgit."She translated.
"200? OK, no sultan. Pomfret instead." I passed the order strip to Ah Yok and walked into the kitchen towards the assistant chief chef. "Ah Leong. Two-Fish fried rice for 10 people, 20ringgit, can or cannot?"
"Cannot lah, Ma Yau Yui. Hou siu ah(it's very little)"
"No problem. They drink, no eat. Ga(Add) just a little extra for them."
"Ok lah." Leong agreed. I smiled and carefully walked on the wet and slippery kitchen floor back to where Ah Yok was standing. I wrote another order and passed it to her.
"Come. Pakistan mango for Room B. On the house."
11:00p.m. Most of the customers had left but Tan Sri and his guests were still in Room V. I could hear Steven and Jenny, singing a duet of a famous Mandarin song. I went into Room B to help clearing the big round tables. Ong was there.
"Hello Leng Jai!" I greeted him cheerfully.
"Leng Neui."He replied, smiling.
I started clearing the table with him. Some waitresses said something to Ong. He said something back to them rather sharply. I looked at him, with my eyebrows raised for translation.
"Ma Yau Yui, you'll get scolded. A manager shouldn't be doing such thing."
I felt something warm in my chest.
"What can I do as a manager, Ong? I can't speak Cantonese. I can't talk to Tan Sri in Room V because I don't know what to talk about."
"You CAN speak Cantonese!"
"Yeah right. Dirty words."
Ong chuckled.
"Tan Sri will be really amused to hear you say dirty words in Cantonese."
"I bet he will." I winked and passed the tray with a mammoth amount of glasses on it to one of the waitresses who said something to Ong earlier. She puffed out her cheeks but I ignored it.
I left Room B, closing the door behind me. I saw Eric leaning against the bar counter. He was talking something into his walkie-talkie. He caught me on the corner of his brown eye and told me to wait with his index finger. The noise from the radio was gone.
"Tan Sri is going to a nightclub now. Jenny is coming, too. Aren't you coming with us, Leng Neui?"
"No. I think your boss has enough leng neuis to occupy the room at the nightclub."
"Well, I'll be very happy if you are there."
All of a suddden, I felt exhausted. I couldn't care less. Must leave!
"Good night, Leng Jai."
When I finally got changed and came out of the restaurant, it was neary midnight. From the escalator outside the entrance, I saw four other bodyguards of Tan Sri standing a few meters away from the stairs. Two more were in Tan Sri's Mercedes. One of them, talking into his walkie-talkie waved me good bye as I was getting off the escalator. I smiled and waved him good bye back. It was a bit humid but cool night for Kuala Lumpur. I closed my eyes to feel the breeze. A tanned Chinese guy in the blue shirt and jeans was standing next to the newspaper stand in front of the building I'd just come out from. It was Soon.
I walked towards him without a word. He kissed me on my cheek gently and put his arm over my shoulder. We started walking. Still, neither of us said nothing.
I looked up at the starless gray sky, helplessly, with my sinking heart.
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