It'll be a quiet one for us - as it always is. Friends have gone to KL for the countdown, ex is working and so we'll be at home. When I was growing up, I always had big expectations for New Years Eve - you know, going to parties when you're older, drinking, and whooping it up at midnight. However, my life was never destined for a big New Years do, so I've been largely disappointed. However, now that I've gotten older, it doesn't really matter anymore. Tonight I'm looking after the kiddies and I think we'll just have the tv on for any 'new year' kind of things. Mum's planning to ring, but that'll be about it.
I spent the day with ex cleaning the pub, buying up on party gear for tonight and making a 2009 countdown sign out of lights and a styrofoam board. I made a bell and a star for Christmas and they looked good. A white light outline of shapes secured into a styrofoam board from the back. By the end of Chinese New Year (three weeks away), I'll have quite the decorating collection. These light boards hang on the outside of the pub to attract people's attention. I don't know if they atually work, but they do look nice at night. For the 2009 sign, he'll have it outside to tell people they're celebrating and then inside later to mark midnight. I hope it goes well for him. You see, he's not the partying kind of person, more comfortable at home with a good book or an episode of Star Trek on the tv. That's why I was so surprised that he'd taken on this new job to manage a pub. However, since our 'split' he's explored lots of differentways to spend his time, his taste in music has changed and he's more 'out there'. Good for him. I do hope it goes very well for him tonight.
So, to you bunch of people who read this, I wish you and your families the best for 2009 and have a drink for me won't you. I'd like to drink it up please, with lots of wine, enough to make me forget about 'the situation' for a while, but not enough to make me vomit all over someone's shoes as they are helping me stand up! Mr Scorpio, tonight, remember not to mix your beer with red wine (now there's something I've never forgotten)!!!
Cheers and Hooray!
Happy 2009.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Keeping the demons at bay
Today followed on from yesterday, as it does, except while doing the damn, never-ending dishes, I noticed my mind was having one of those awful back and forth imaginary conversations with ex. And I was getting more angry and frustrated by the minute, until I realised what was happening and told myself to stop the bullshit. Then I decided that this wasn't going away today so I took some xanax and went to calm down.
I don't know what sets it off, but probably a combination of things - a comment or even something that's not said, the time of year, a phone call.
But I couldn't take it anymore, suppressing the horrible feelings and trying to push through the all the negative stuff is like walking through a muddy swamp - hazardous at the best of times. I wanted, needed, to stop them. Hence the xanax. And of course, after I took it, I had to tell ex because xanax makes you a bit dopey and if I needed to drive, well, I would have had to call on him.
I knew the anger was irrational, a fantasy of my mind, as was the fear I felt when telling him about it. I don't know why I am still afraid to tell him what's going on inside my head. For a while now, he's been very understanding about the moods, probably because I'm no longer blaming him for them. He doesn't judge or panic, he just accepts it and takes over when he has to and I get to recover and set myself straight.
So today he sat and listened. I told him about the conversations I had with myself - no details, just that I was having them. I have them too, he said. Really? Apparently, he also has situations which trigger a non-existent conversation in his head, based on stuff that's happened between us in the past. And the emotions return - the hate, the anger... the hate. We talked for a while about this and then he reminded me that we have to focus on the now. If we drag ourselves back into the past, nothing will change. And he's right. We can't go there. Up till now, I've done fairly well in keeping to that rule, but it's been hard lately. My ego has been so strong and today succeeded in dragging me down into this pit of our horrible dysfunctional past.
One thing I noticed about today's conversation was that he's taken notice of the things I've been saying in previous conversations. Things like, "our relationship didn't stand a chance because of who I was and who he was" and "we need to focus on the present", "we need to be present for our kids sake".
At least now I know I'm contributing newer ideas, that are mine, thought of by me, as opposed to just regurgitating what he says. Being separated, and indeed writing this blog, has forced me to think on my own, to take things apart and look at them myself. And I've been able to pass that on to him. We've never been intellectual equals, not in my mind anyway, so at least now we are on the same page about some things.
Another thing that's changed is when we used to talk, we just talked about our past. These talks would last for 2, maybe 3 hours. I finally got to a point where I just refused to talk about it, because it didn't get us anywhere and we'd just go around in circles. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Honestly, I don't think most people could, unless you're some kind of masochist. We'd relive the same pain, guilt, anger and other shit all over again, everytime! Very, very unhealthy. In the end, I just said no, I can't talk about this.
Now we talk about different stuff, referring only to the past in terms of what happened, but there's no blame, only 'what is'. We talk about what it means to the kids to be together, how we can operate as a family, what things need to be done and how we can co-ordinate together to get it done. What we have now is sooooooo much better than anything we ever had before. And the irony of it all is that in terms of material possessions, we don't have much at all. Oh, we've got furniture and a car (beat up toyota) and all that, but no house and no assets - and the house we do rent is a bit rundown, but it's big. To me, it doesn't matter. I stopped caring a long time ago about what we had, because we've had money and material things, lived in beautiful places and it didn't make an iota of difference to our happiness or how we functioned. Now I'm just grateful to be sane, aware and functioning at a level that has a positive influence on the kids.
So, xanax saved the day. The heavy feeling inside has lifted, I've talked with ex and the rest of the day worked out ok. The kids and I went to the park on the bikes (I jogged - on xanax, that's not easy) and we had a decent dinner.
Now to go and do what needs to be done. Don't sweat the small stuff people, your body doesn't need it, and neither does your mind.
Cheers.
I don't know what sets it off, but probably a combination of things - a comment or even something that's not said, the time of year, a phone call.
But I couldn't take it anymore, suppressing the horrible feelings and trying to push through the all the negative stuff is like walking through a muddy swamp - hazardous at the best of times. I wanted, needed, to stop them. Hence the xanax. And of course, after I took it, I had to tell ex because xanax makes you a bit dopey and if I needed to drive, well, I would have had to call on him.
I knew the anger was irrational, a fantasy of my mind, as was the fear I felt when telling him about it. I don't know why I am still afraid to tell him what's going on inside my head. For a while now, he's been very understanding about the moods, probably because I'm no longer blaming him for them. He doesn't judge or panic, he just accepts it and takes over when he has to and I get to recover and set myself straight.
So today he sat and listened. I told him about the conversations I had with myself - no details, just that I was having them. I have them too, he said. Really? Apparently, he also has situations which trigger a non-existent conversation in his head, based on stuff that's happened between us in the past. And the emotions return - the hate, the anger... the hate. We talked for a while about this and then he reminded me that we have to focus on the now. If we drag ourselves back into the past, nothing will change. And he's right. We can't go there. Up till now, I've done fairly well in keeping to that rule, but it's been hard lately. My ego has been so strong and today succeeded in dragging me down into this pit of our horrible dysfunctional past.
One thing I noticed about today's conversation was that he's taken notice of the things I've been saying in previous conversations. Things like, "our relationship didn't stand a chance because of who I was and who he was" and "we need to focus on the present", "we need to be present for our kids sake".
At least now I know I'm contributing newer ideas, that are mine, thought of by me, as opposed to just regurgitating what he says. Being separated, and indeed writing this blog, has forced me to think on my own, to take things apart and look at them myself. And I've been able to pass that on to him. We've never been intellectual equals, not in my mind anyway, so at least now we are on the same page about some things.
Another thing that's changed is when we used to talk, we just talked about our past. These talks would last for 2, maybe 3 hours. I finally got to a point where I just refused to talk about it, because it didn't get us anywhere and we'd just go around in circles. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Honestly, I don't think most people could, unless you're some kind of masochist. We'd relive the same pain, guilt, anger and other shit all over again, everytime! Very, very unhealthy. In the end, I just said no, I can't talk about this.
Now we talk about different stuff, referring only to the past in terms of what happened, but there's no blame, only 'what is'. We talk about what it means to the kids to be together, how we can operate as a family, what things need to be done and how we can co-ordinate together to get it done. What we have now is sooooooo much better than anything we ever had before. And the irony of it all is that in terms of material possessions, we don't have much at all. Oh, we've got furniture and a car (beat up toyota) and all that, but no house and no assets - and the house we do rent is a bit rundown, but it's big. To me, it doesn't matter. I stopped caring a long time ago about what we had, because we've had money and material things, lived in beautiful places and it didn't make an iota of difference to our happiness or how we functioned. Now I'm just grateful to be sane, aware and functioning at a level that has a positive influence on the kids.
So, xanax saved the day. The heavy feeling inside has lifted, I've talked with ex and the rest of the day worked out ok. The kids and I went to the park on the bikes (I jogged - on xanax, that's not easy) and we had a decent dinner.
Now to go and do what needs to be done. Don't sweat the small stuff people, your body doesn't need it, and neither does your mind.
Cheers.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Torturous Night
Christmas is over. The toys are laying around, with nowhere to go. School starts next week. There's much work to be done. But I haven't been able to do it. Last night was the worst night I've had in a long time. After a late night, I went to bed, slept and woke at around 5 and started thinking. Sometimes I do wish I could just stop (thinking).
I'm struggling again with the 'unfair situation' and the longing to be home is strong. Maybe it's the time of year, month... Whatever, it's strong and I'm struggling to fight it. Not that I'll be taking off anywhere soon. In the deepest recesses of my mind, there sits a decision that's been made, locked tightly into a box that cannot be opened until 3 (more) years pass. By that time, my children and I will have spent 6 years here. Not that long compared to a lifetime of years, but long enough to leave a lasting impression on my children. It's true, I don't know what will happen at the end of the 3 years, but I dare not go there, thinking that it may not turn out as I want it to.
Physically, I'm lethargic and dazed, only putting out enough energy to get the basics done. Though we went to Malacca yesterday for a movie and some grocery shopping, the trip wiped me out to the point where I had to sleep before making dinner for me and the kids. Ex is away this weekend with some friends. He's got to do our son's education visa today and went down to meet some people who want him to do a web site for them. The web site's theme is gambling. Nice (not). Actually I don't care - I don't know if I should care - I don't like gambling and rarely partake and I know how destructive gambling can be for families. But it's work and we need the money. If he doesn't do it, someone else will. So ex is away, leaving the kids and I to our own devices.
But I'm not in a good way - it feels like depression. I hope it's not. I know I will have to work hard to come up again, to experience the happiness I had for a short while. My muscles ache, I crave sugar and bad food, I'm tired all the time and don't want to do what needs to be done. The house needs a good clean up to get ready for the new year and I'm just not able to get going. I think about what needs to be done all the time. I just don't do it.
And I'm ashamed and embarrassed for being this way, knowing what I know from the countless hours of reading and analysing myself. And I hate myself even more for it. The self loathing is something I used to have all the time and was one of the first things I dealt with when I decided that my situation needed a different perspective. A positive mind and self loathing can't exist in the same space. It just doesn't work, so one of them had to go. Now there seems to have been a switch, the loathing is back, the positive has moved out.
That's where I am at the moment. I've got exactly one week to pull myself up again and get going so that I can deal with the year ahead. Next week school starts, my private tuition starts again and the kids at the autistic centre start their new school year and need me to keep them on track. They are my commitments and I need to honour them.
Until then, the kids seem to argue constantly, I've put on 2 kilos, my hands are itchy and raw from my allergy to soap, the kids allergies are bothering them again, ex has started saying 'you should...blah, blah, blah" and "you this and you that" (ugggh, I can't stand it), the house is a mess and the kids, though they're acting just like kids, are really getting on my nerves. Oh yes, and most disappointingly of all, my friends had to pull out of a weekend away that we'd be planning. I was sooooo disappointed because I'd been looking forward to getting away for the night (yep, just one), to relax and laugh, drink coffee and have some good "girl chat" time with my friend. When they had to cancel (and they only told me at the last minute), I almost cried - but I smiled and said "that's life, don't worry about it" and took my disappointment out on myself with coffee and dark chocolate to soothe the emotions whirling around inside.
1 week. Yet again I find myself getting up off the floor and dusting myself off. It seems to be the story of my life. The title of my biography would read "Getting up...again....and again....and yet again". I've got many steps to take this week, to get me up again. It's almost overwhelming and yet, if I look at it from my rational mind, these are only things that need to be done, in a given amount of time. If I pick myself up, switch off the tv and just do, then it will get done. If I lay down and wallow, I will be in the same position next week but with people knocking at my door and calling my phone while the kids cry and wonder where the hell their uniforms are.
So, to life. I need to be there. Just writing that paragraph above about how life will be next week is enough to spur me on to get the next job done.
The powers of writing will never cease to amaze me.
I'm struggling again with the 'unfair situation' and the longing to be home is strong. Maybe it's the time of year, month... Whatever, it's strong and I'm struggling to fight it. Not that I'll be taking off anywhere soon. In the deepest recesses of my mind, there sits a decision that's been made, locked tightly into a box that cannot be opened until 3 (more) years pass. By that time, my children and I will have spent 6 years here. Not that long compared to a lifetime of years, but long enough to leave a lasting impression on my children. It's true, I don't know what will happen at the end of the 3 years, but I dare not go there, thinking that it may not turn out as I want it to.
Physically, I'm lethargic and dazed, only putting out enough energy to get the basics done. Though we went to Malacca yesterday for a movie and some grocery shopping, the trip wiped me out to the point where I had to sleep before making dinner for me and the kids. Ex is away this weekend with some friends. He's got to do our son's education visa today and went down to meet some people who want him to do a web site for them. The web site's theme is gambling. Nice (not). Actually I don't care - I don't know if I should care - I don't like gambling and rarely partake and I know how destructive gambling can be for families. But it's work and we need the money. If he doesn't do it, someone else will. So ex is away, leaving the kids and I to our own devices.
But I'm not in a good way - it feels like depression. I hope it's not. I know I will have to work hard to come up again, to experience the happiness I had for a short while. My muscles ache, I crave sugar and bad food, I'm tired all the time and don't want to do what needs to be done. The house needs a good clean up to get ready for the new year and I'm just not able to get going. I think about what needs to be done all the time. I just don't do it.
And I'm ashamed and embarrassed for being this way, knowing what I know from the countless hours of reading and analysing myself. And I hate myself even more for it. The self loathing is something I used to have all the time and was one of the first things I dealt with when I decided that my situation needed a different perspective. A positive mind and self loathing can't exist in the same space. It just doesn't work, so one of them had to go. Now there seems to have been a switch, the loathing is back, the positive has moved out.
That's where I am at the moment. I've got exactly one week to pull myself up again and get going so that I can deal with the year ahead. Next week school starts, my private tuition starts again and the kids at the autistic centre start their new school year and need me to keep them on track. They are my commitments and I need to honour them.
Until then, the kids seem to argue constantly, I've put on 2 kilos, my hands are itchy and raw from my allergy to soap, the kids allergies are bothering them again, ex has started saying 'you should...blah, blah, blah" and "you this and you that" (ugggh, I can't stand it), the house is a mess and the kids, though they're acting just like kids, are really getting on my nerves. Oh yes, and most disappointingly of all, my friends had to pull out of a weekend away that we'd be planning. I was sooooo disappointed because I'd been looking forward to getting away for the night (yep, just one), to relax and laugh, drink coffee and have some good "girl chat" time with my friend. When they had to cancel (and they only told me at the last minute), I almost cried - but I smiled and said "that's life, don't worry about it" and took my disappointment out on myself with coffee and dark chocolate to soothe the emotions whirling around inside.
1 week. Yet again I find myself getting up off the floor and dusting myself off. It seems to be the story of my life. The title of my biography would read "Getting up...again....and again....and yet again". I've got many steps to take this week, to get me up again. It's almost overwhelming and yet, if I look at it from my rational mind, these are only things that need to be done, in a given amount of time. If I pick myself up, switch off the tv and just do, then it will get done. If I lay down and wallow, I will be in the same position next week but with people knocking at my door and calling my phone while the kids cry and wonder where the hell their uniforms are.
So, to life. I need to be there. Just writing that paragraph above about how life will be next week is enough to spur me on to get the next job done.
The powers of writing will never cease to amaze me.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas Connections
Christmas seemed empty this year, though there were presents and people, dinner and more presents. I was thinking about it, what really makes Christmas what it is. We all know it's the people, and the connections we have with them, even if the people are not family. In between all the shopping and Christmas hype (uggh, the commercialism of it all), I think a lot of that connection is lost. But being away from it all (no Christmas rush here), it's given me a chance to see Christmas for what it really should be and for what I have to make of it.
Last night we had ex's family over. There was dinner, a strange mix of pineapple chicken, salad and roast potatoes, with assam fish (fish with chilli), sambal vegetables (vegetable with a tasty chilli paste), egg omelette with vegetables, fried chicken fillets and rice. The reason for this strange combination of dishes was that at about midday, ex's mother rang to say we should come for dinner. Then she remembered it was Christmas eve and that I'd be cooking. Still she wanted all of us (ex's brother's family too) to have dinner together, so said they'd come over and she would cook a few things. Her things were the Chinese dishes and mine were the western ones, as per my children's request.
Selfish me, I didn't want to have them over for dinner, because I don't cook well for a crowd, even a small one . And they don't like my cooking (or so ex has told me), so I don't invite them to eat here. And I don't have the right set-up. I use my small, stuffy dining room as my laundry because it's the only place the washing machine can go, so it's usually full of laundry crap, which has nowhere else to go. When we eat dinner, we eat at the coffee table, the kids on small chairs and me on the sofa. Before and after my long stay back home, ex rarely ate with us anyway, preferring the company of his computer in his room. So, the coffee table in the lounge room in front of the tv, it is. I know parenting experts abhor this way of eating, saying families must eat and talk together, but I just can't force us to eat in this horrible little room which is full of cupboards and laundry things. It's like eating in a closet.
So back to Christmas. Dinner done, we handed out presents - there were quite a few, especially given that the in-laws don't really celebrate it. No matter, the kids had fun and then we sat down and had coffee and biscuits which I'd made, chocolates and other nice things. At this time ex was getting ready for work, the in-laws were talking amongst themselves (in chinese) and I was, well, just sitting there. I tried to talk with them, made an effort to interject in the conversation, but somehow didn't have the energy (or wasn't interesting enough) to really get into it.
Coupled with the fact that they ate their food (though they did like the salad) and me and the kids ate mine, it was like being in a room full of people who aren't looking at each other. Their was no connection, none - or very little. And that's what I miss about Christmas at home. Being with people who genuinely care about you and enjoy your company, who take the time to give you a gift that means something - like Melba's e-gift to me. There was more meaning in that thought of giving, than there was in the box of fragrance my sis-in-law gave me (I don't use perfume). That's what's missing.
I'm not trying to put my in-laws down, it's not their fault. They have their own lives and they did make an effort by turning up to a celebration that literally means nothing to them. And I was/am grateful that they took the time to do that, because it's important to the kids. I'm just observing the why's and wherefore's of Christmas here.
The best part of Christmas for me was this morning, watching the kids open and play with the presents I'd got them. Just the three of us. Wow, ooh, ahhh, thanks mum etc. And of course, the cuddles from them in bed this morning. So even though I'm here, I wouldn't be anywhere else, because this is where the kids are. This is where we are for now so we'll keep on making the most of it.
Last night we had ex's family over. There was dinner, a strange mix of pineapple chicken, salad and roast potatoes, with assam fish (fish with chilli), sambal vegetables (vegetable with a tasty chilli paste), egg omelette with vegetables, fried chicken fillets and rice. The reason for this strange combination of dishes was that at about midday, ex's mother rang to say we should come for dinner. Then she remembered it was Christmas eve and that I'd be cooking. Still she wanted all of us (ex's brother's family too) to have dinner together, so said they'd come over and she would cook a few things. Her things were the Chinese dishes and mine were the western ones, as per my children's request.
Selfish me, I didn't want to have them over for dinner, because I don't cook well for a crowd, even a small one . And they don't like my cooking (or so ex has told me), so I don't invite them to eat here. And I don't have the right set-up. I use my small, stuffy dining room as my laundry because it's the only place the washing machine can go, so it's usually full of laundry crap, which has nowhere else to go. When we eat dinner, we eat at the coffee table, the kids on small chairs and me on the sofa. Before and after my long stay back home, ex rarely ate with us anyway, preferring the company of his computer in his room. So, the coffee table in the lounge room in front of the tv, it is. I know parenting experts abhor this way of eating, saying families must eat and talk together, but I just can't force us to eat in this horrible little room which is full of cupboards and laundry things. It's like eating in a closet.
So back to Christmas. Dinner done, we handed out presents - there were quite a few, especially given that the in-laws don't really celebrate it. No matter, the kids had fun and then we sat down and had coffee and biscuits which I'd made, chocolates and other nice things. At this time ex was getting ready for work, the in-laws were talking amongst themselves (in chinese) and I was, well, just sitting there. I tried to talk with them, made an effort to interject in the conversation, but somehow didn't have the energy (or wasn't interesting enough) to really get into it.
Coupled with the fact that they ate their food (though they did like the salad) and me and the kids ate mine, it was like being in a room full of people who aren't looking at each other. Their was no connection, none - or very little. And that's what I miss about Christmas at home. Being with people who genuinely care about you and enjoy your company, who take the time to give you a gift that means something - like Melba's e-gift to me. There was more meaning in that thought of giving, than there was in the box of fragrance my sis-in-law gave me (I don't use perfume). That's what's missing.
I'm not trying to put my in-laws down, it's not their fault. They have their own lives and they did make an effort by turning up to a celebration that literally means nothing to them. And I was/am grateful that they took the time to do that, because it's important to the kids. I'm just observing the why's and wherefore's of Christmas here.
The best part of Christmas for me was this morning, watching the kids open and play with the presents I'd got them. Just the three of us. Wow, ooh, ahhh, thanks mum etc. And of course, the cuddles from them in bed this morning. So even though I'm here, I wouldn't be anywhere else, because this is where the kids are. This is where we are for now so we'll keep on making the most of it.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
All I want for Christmas...
is a new, huge, hard disk. And thanks to a generous ex, I've got 250Gb worth. I love it. Updated operating system, new games to keep my messy mind busy and goodbye to my memory hogging, time-wasting old anti virus software and hello new, fast antivirus software. My old hard disk had been about to crash so rather than leave it, I followed the voice in my head that said ask ex to help you take it to 'computer repair guy' who I actually know, as he's my friends brother. But he doesn't speak English, so ex had to come along too. Good for him. Not only did he meet some new people to invite to his pub, but he was inspired to get his own dinosaur (6 years old) computer fixed which is now working as it should be. It is a little slow though. No matter.
And now ex is full of ideas of what we can do with the updated computers - install Quake, our favourite game to play together in days of old and network them both together.
STOP RIGHT THERE. I don't think so. I don't think I could handle playing Quake (it's a shoot-em-up game - I shoot him, he shoots me - it's better than therapy and a whole lot cheaper. ie -whattya mean I don't listen - crack, your dead! HAH!). We had loads of fun doing that (I know, very nerdy, but hey, who cares) and I know that playing it again with him would bring up all sorts of good memories and make me think about all the good stuff with him. Too painful, methinks, especially now, knowing I need to stay on an even keel.
The networking part - no way - if you're not sleeping with me, you don't connect to my computer - at all. Get stuffed. Gee, sensitive! But I don't want him to. I don't want him attached to me in any way because it's too hard. Fancy that, a computer connection having an emotional thing attached to it. Of course it shouldn't be, but it is. After all, it's just a computer right? But no, it's not just a computer. It's my portal to home, the place I put my thoughts and say things I could never say to him. Along with my bedroom, it's my private space and I'd be mortified if somehow, he found a way to see what I write here. He knows I keep a journal, but he doesn't know it's a blog that other people read it, albeit anonymously.
So, no networking and no Quake. It's hard enough to keep my emotional distance from him and networking my beloved computer will not help. So, no. Not now, not ever.
I'll enjoy my hard disk on my own, thankyou. :)
And now ex is full of ideas of what we can do with the updated computers - install Quake, our favourite game to play together in days of old and network them both together.
STOP RIGHT THERE. I don't think so. I don't think I could handle playing Quake (it's a shoot-em-up game - I shoot him, he shoots me - it's better than therapy and a whole lot cheaper. ie -whattya mean I don't listen - crack, your dead! HAH!). We had loads of fun doing that (I know, very nerdy, but hey, who cares) and I know that playing it again with him would bring up all sorts of good memories and make me think about all the good stuff with him. Too painful, methinks, especially now, knowing I need to stay on an even keel.
The networking part - no way - if you're not sleeping with me, you don't connect to my computer - at all. Get stuffed. Gee, sensitive! But I don't want him to. I don't want him attached to me in any way because it's too hard. Fancy that, a computer connection having an emotional thing attached to it. Of course it shouldn't be, but it is. After all, it's just a computer right? But no, it's not just a computer. It's my portal to home, the place I put my thoughts and say things I could never say to him. Along with my bedroom, it's my private space and I'd be mortified if somehow, he found a way to see what I write here. He knows I keep a journal, but he doesn't know it's a blog that other people read it, albeit anonymously.
So, no networking and no Quake. It's hard enough to keep my emotional distance from him and networking my beloved computer will not help. So, no. Not now, not ever.
I'll enjoy my hard disk on my own, thankyou. :)
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Lead up to Christmas
Today was a bitchy day. I was bitchy with the kids and more unusually I stood up for myself at the supermarket - and looked like a complete bitch.
Going to the supermarket is a complete stress-out for me, I just hate it. And I have to be careful of when I go, because if I'm having a mood, the stress is even more. I'd avoided going yesterday and so had to go today and was at the checkout when an oldish chinese lady with her grand-daughter queue jumped in front of me, smiling and saying "saja satu, saja satu" - just one, just one because she had only one item in her hand. Well, I'd had enough. The cashier was already slow, my stress levels had gone as high as they could and I was really needing to get out of there. So I told her in plain English about the express counter being just over there. And I could feel the look on my face - one of those dirty looks that speaks any language. She stopped smiling and went over to push in front of someone else's cue. Unbelievable. And I felt so bad for saying something to her, but this time I just couldn't let it go. I needed to get out of there, and I needed it ASAP. I said it as calmly as I could, though my voice was a little shaky because I'm always nervous when I have to stand up for myself. But I couldn't get over how guilty I felt and kept beating myself up for it later on. I was thinking to myself that she could have been one of my students grandmothers or someone's aunty that I knew. I hope not.
The thing is I'm so conspicuous here. If I drive faster than I should or do something like the above, it usually gets back to the family. One day I was on the phone to my sister in the park (I use my mobile phone) and I was crying, but I didn't think it was that obvious. The week after, ex tells me his sister's friend had seen me, emailed her (his sister) who then emailed ex who then asked me what I was doing crying my eyes out in public!!! Fuck. Who knew. All I remember about that day was that I was by myself at the park with the kids. So now in public all I can do is smile and go about my merry way, smiling tediously at whoever so that people think I'm happy. If people only knew what was going on in my head...
The thing I've noticed about a lot of Malaysians is that they don't seem very polite when it comes to being in public. If they know you, it's OK, but if you're a stranger, they will push in front, cut you off and generally be rather thoughtless so that they can get their things done quickly. There's really not much civil politeness - not at all. If you go into a shop or you need to use their services, they're all over you of course, but in general, I'd have to say that Malaysians are pretty rude.
So back to Christmas. I've bought the presents, still got a few to go. Christmas eve, my sis-in-law is coming over for supper and the kids and I are going to make some cookies, truffles and chocolate coated strawberries to eat. We'll give presents, the kids will play, J (sis-in-law) and I will drink coffee and chat a while. It should be OK. I've promised the kids I'll make chicken and salad and fries for dinner - nothing really special, but special for them. I'm not really good at cooking for a crowd so that's why I've only invited the in-laws for supper. I've lost a lot of my confidence in this area, ever since ex said that I didn't cook well and my friends were being polite whenever they came to eat at our place.
Christmas day I want to do a nice breakfast with croissants, ham and cheese etc but Giant no longer sells ham and I can't get to Malacca before then, so we'll ditch the ham and just have croissants and cheese, which i think I can get at the bakery. If not, maybe we'll go out and have roti chanai and teh tarik (pulled tea), a common malay breakfast which we all enjoy.
So, it's a simple Christmas this year. We'll try to do web cam with my sister's family on Christmas eve, so that should be OK, though none of us ever know what to say to each other. I'm hoping to see you, Mr Scorpio, all dressed up as Santa for the kiddies there. Hah! Send me a photo, won't you!
Merry Christmas to all.
Going to the supermarket is a complete stress-out for me, I just hate it. And I have to be careful of when I go, because if I'm having a mood, the stress is even more. I'd avoided going yesterday and so had to go today and was at the checkout when an oldish chinese lady with her grand-daughter queue jumped in front of me, smiling and saying "saja satu, saja satu" - just one, just one because she had only one item in her hand. Well, I'd had enough. The cashier was already slow, my stress levels had gone as high as they could and I was really needing to get out of there. So I told her in plain English about the express counter being just over there. And I could feel the look on my face - one of those dirty looks that speaks any language. She stopped smiling and went over to push in front of someone else's cue. Unbelievable. And I felt so bad for saying something to her, but this time I just couldn't let it go. I needed to get out of there, and I needed it ASAP. I said it as calmly as I could, though my voice was a little shaky because I'm always nervous when I have to stand up for myself. But I couldn't get over how guilty I felt and kept beating myself up for it later on. I was thinking to myself that she could have been one of my students grandmothers or someone's aunty that I knew. I hope not.
The thing is I'm so conspicuous here. If I drive faster than I should or do something like the above, it usually gets back to the family. One day I was on the phone to my sister in the park (I use my mobile phone) and I was crying, but I didn't think it was that obvious. The week after, ex tells me his sister's friend had seen me, emailed her (his sister) who then emailed ex who then asked me what I was doing crying my eyes out in public!!! Fuck. Who knew. All I remember about that day was that I was by myself at the park with the kids. So now in public all I can do is smile and go about my merry way, smiling tediously at whoever so that people think I'm happy. If people only knew what was going on in my head...
The thing I've noticed about a lot of Malaysians is that they don't seem very polite when it comes to being in public. If they know you, it's OK, but if you're a stranger, they will push in front, cut you off and generally be rather thoughtless so that they can get their things done quickly. There's really not much civil politeness - not at all. If you go into a shop or you need to use their services, they're all over you of course, but in general, I'd have to say that Malaysians are pretty rude.
So back to Christmas. I've bought the presents, still got a few to go. Christmas eve, my sis-in-law is coming over for supper and the kids and I are going to make some cookies, truffles and chocolate coated strawberries to eat. We'll give presents, the kids will play, J (sis-in-law) and I will drink coffee and chat a while. It should be OK. I've promised the kids I'll make chicken and salad and fries for dinner - nothing really special, but special for them. I'm not really good at cooking for a crowd so that's why I've only invited the in-laws for supper. I've lost a lot of my confidence in this area, ever since ex said that I didn't cook well and my friends were being polite whenever they came to eat at our place.
Christmas day I want to do a nice breakfast with croissants, ham and cheese etc but Giant no longer sells ham and I can't get to Malacca before then, so we'll ditch the ham and just have croissants and cheese, which i think I can get at the bakery. If not, maybe we'll go out and have roti chanai and teh tarik (pulled tea), a common malay breakfast which we all enjoy.
So, it's a simple Christmas this year. We'll try to do web cam with my sister's family on Christmas eve, so that should be OK, though none of us ever know what to say to each other. I'm hoping to see you, Mr Scorpio, all dressed up as Santa for the kiddies there. Hah! Send me a photo, won't you!
Merry Christmas to all.
Friday, December 19, 2008
You know you live in a small town when...
a ride in a zebra-striped safari jeep is the highlight of the month. Today, after much co-ordinating and planning about dinner and golf and marketing for the pub, ex ditched those plans and decided to take the kids to the playground. The playground is situated within the country club, right next to the air strip, which is used on and off for various things, and it's all about a minutes drive from my house.
The airstrip is usually used as a jogging track and cycle area and my favourite memory of this place is from two months back when we were teaching son to ride his bike there without training wheels. There he was pedalling along when we realised that he was headed straight for the old aeroplane that has been standing there for god-knows-how-long (like, years!). Except this time the aeroplane had been moved onto the strip and IT WAS MOVING - towards my son, who is fairly clueless when it comes to noticing the things that go on around him. So there we were, yelling at him to turn, stop, do whatever, and the thing is still moving. We knew that it wouldn't be moving very fast, because the engines are dead, but still... Anway, we eventually caught up with him and turned him in the right direction, while the plane did actually come to a stop shortly after that.
The same people that were moving the plane on that day, were there again today as part of a field trip from the Subang Flying Club, or whatever they call themselves. Subang is just outside of KL. The leaders of the pack were a couple of German guys, so I found myself in the rare position of not being the only orang putih (white person) at the club today. After some hello's and chit chat (ie. what are you doing HERE????) and after hearing my son loudly exclaim, "gee, I wish I could ride in that car cos I like the stripes", they very generously took us for a ride up and down the airstrip. Son was delighted to be able to stand up in the front, looking over the windshield, with me in the passenger seat hanging onto him while the daughter and ex sat in the back part, where it was a little tamer, but still lots of fun for her. In the meantime, there were lots of smiles, wind in the hair, chit chat (god I hate small talk, I'm just no good at it), handshakes and thankyous. A pleasant little interlude that we'll talk about right up until Christmas when the next exciting thing will happen (presents).
Well that's just too much excitement for one day so it's time for bed now. It's 1.30 and time to try and make myself fall asleep so I don't end up on the couch all day tomorrow pretending to take care of the kids when I'm really catching up on the sleep I should have gotten the night before.
The airstrip is usually used as a jogging track and cycle area and my favourite memory of this place is from two months back when we were teaching son to ride his bike there without training wheels. There he was pedalling along when we realised that he was headed straight for the old aeroplane that has been standing there for god-knows-how-long (like, years!). Except this time the aeroplane had been moved onto the strip and IT WAS MOVING - towards my son, who is fairly clueless when it comes to noticing the things that go on around him. So there we were, yelling at him to turn, stop, do whatever, and the thing is still moving. We knew that it wouldn't be moving very fast, because the engines are dead, but still... Anway, we eventually caught up with him and turned him in the right direction, while the plane did actually come to a stop shortly after that.
The same people that were moving the plane on that day, were there again today as part of a field trip from the Subang Flying Club, or whatever they call themselves. Subang is just outside of KL. The leaders of the pack were a couple of German guys, so I found myself in the rare position of not being the only orang putih (white person) at the club today. After some hello's and chit chat (ie. what are you doing HERE????) and after hearing my son loudly exclaim, "gee, I wish I could ride in that car cos I like the stripes", they very generously took us for a ride up and down the airstrip. Son was delighted to be able to stand up in the front, looking over the windshield, with me in the passenger seat hanging onto him while the daughter and ex sat in the back part, where it was a little tamer, but still lots of fun for her. In the meantime, there were lots of smiles, wind in the hair, chit chat (god I hate small talk, I'm just no good at it), handshakes and thankyous. A pleasant little interlude that we'll talk about right up until Christmas when the next exciting thing will happen (presents).
Well that's just too much excitement for one day so it's time for bed now. It's 1.30 and time to try and make myself fall asleep so I don't end up on the couch all day tomorrow pretending to take care of the kids when I'm really catching up on the sleep I should have gotten the night before.
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