My Fair Lady

A friend of mine gave me these fantastic tickets to watch My Fair Lady - the Musical. It was wonderful. I was pleasantly surprised that K also enjoyed the show. Men are not known to be particularly enchanted by singing productions.

We didn't really dress up for the event, what with coming directly from work. But some people did, with their plunging necklines and perfumed hair. Of course some people did saunter in with their faded jeans. Of course we were smug in our office casuals, horribly glad that we didn't embarrass ourselves by coming overdressed.

Anyway, the seats were great, the cast was great, the audience was well behaved, maybe except for the inconsiderate idiot who thought that nobody would notice her wailing toddler. The songs really brought back memories of watching Audrey Hepburn shaking her fists at Rex Harrison in the pastel 1950s original adaptation.

I have one complaint though. Eliza's dress was dismal! The dress she wore for the Ascot scene was far superior to the one she wore to the Embassy Ball. It made her look so frumpy. It is just as the poster but with an added glittering piece draped across her chest which only made her look worse if you asked me. What a pity. Well we women notice these things.

But nevertheless the musical was very enjoyable!

Nice saucer

So many things to do but so little precious time. Universal grouse I am sure. I do wonder how some people juggle a career, a family and a life, with a couple pets thrown in.

Quiet times are good times. Cathartic and rejuvenating. And rare. I did a quick stock take over the weekend (which was actually a 5 minute day-dream in Popular book store). In my head I have this picture of this woman who looks dangerously like me (only thinner) leading this fantastically fulfilling and balanced life. She resonates contentment and is loved by people and inanimate objects alike. The ideal woman that would even make Oprah weep. And she sits there, in my mind, eating crumpets and having tea, living the alternate life, MY alternate life of happiness, health and goodwill to all men.

It is so easy to be good to other people but so much harder to be good to one's self. It is easier to feed to a man oatmeal than to stop binging on Lay's Salt and Vinegar. I will be the first to admit that I have very lofty ideals. That woman in my mind is proof that I inspire to great things. But then things never go as plan do they? Blame it on faithlessness, sloth, envy, pride and 30% discount on pastries. If only discipline and determination came in tablets.

Lessons from another's mistake

Over the week I witnessed first hand the folly of over-promising and under-delivering.

A external PR consultant had the misfortune of promising my employers considerable media coverage at the pick of a phone call. When she was pitching herself, she didn't realise that my boss is quite a media luminary herself. Believing her sales pitch, we let her organise press while my side did the logistics at a major hotel here.

So I will leave you to imagine the horror and embarrassment when only ONE reporter turned up. And it didn't help that when the consultant blamed the low turn out on a bigger press event somewhere else, my boss actually called up the editors of our major dailies only to find that there was no big event that warranted any pull out from our press conference. Of course she made it clear to the consultant what she thought of the whole thing .

I am not even more terrified of my boss now but so in awe of her ability to bite someone's head of in as civil a manner as having tea with the Queen. (okey, maybe not the queen but say.. Margaret Thatcher). And I hope never to be caught in such a situation ever in this life or the next. I think I am traumatized.

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The perils of not having your eyes checked.

Rock, jangan tak Rock

On Friday, the office was having a full day PA system test in preparation for an inspection by the Fire Department.

And since the security fellas in charge of the PA system didn't have any other CDs on hand, the hospital reverberated -from the foundations up- from the raw strains of Scorpions and Metallica.
I never thought my workplace could be so cool. Albeit accidentally cool. Good thing there were no patients.

Enter Sandman is the best music for a boring afternoon meeting, I tell you.

Wock on, brudder!

Tenant woes

The entries into the blog has been pretty poor lately, I admit. Preachy even.
Complaining is so passe, no? But have issues with my tenant. The fact that I have to share living space is bad enough but to share with a kid, his dog and his mom?

We clearly stated that the room was for 1 and we made exceptions for the dog but his mom has been staying with him for weeks and weeks. While the increased cost is a small issue, we are pissed off because he was strictly told that the rent for was ONE and a different rate applies for two. Initially we thought that the mother would only stay for a short period but this is ridiculous.

We have a problem with water supply and with the addition of every new member into the house, it gets worse. Hence our strict restrictions about the number of people in our house.
While on one hand we want to be accommodating but now I think we are being taken advantage of. I have a good mind to kick him out.

Ads and more ads

I like ads. I go to cinemas early to watch ads.
I love the varied states of mind a 15 second of burst of creativity can induce. Currently I am hooked to Intel's Core 2 Duo processor Multiply ads by Vaughan Arnell.
Love the music too.

Girly Man

Know how my You Tube posts are usually a. random and b. pointless, here is another one.

Remember how Michael Jackson's Thriller was like the video of the century?
Apparently there is another one. From India.
And some precious Jackass even did the phonetic subtitles for the benefit of us English speakers. Sooo worth the download. If some reason you can't see it here, just search the keywords "Indian Thriller Subtitles" on YouTube. Speakers compulsary!

Calves of steel

My mom lives alone. Hence she does not really have many people to talk to most times. That is why that now that she is here in KL for the weekend, she is like a stand-up but on speed.

Sure it is a good thing. But so is breathing. Plus Mom is champion of long distance shopping and together with my dad, they can traverse the entire length of OneUtama a few times in a single day. So couple marathon narration with cross-country training and what do you get? Two pooped kids.

The current boyfriend has given up on us and politely excuses himself from the adventures we have but we biological offspring don't have a whisper of a chance to escape. I have tried introducing to them the lure of nature and culture (Stonehenge and Stratford-upon-Avon, no less). The attempt was treated with civilized tolerance but after a few stifled yawns on a park bench, I got the hint and parked them in a mall. Sigh.

Looks like it will be the same this time round.
Heels, make way for sneakers, for tis gonna be a long long walk.

Are you really suprised?

I am totally shocked and embarrassed by the attitude of some Malaysians.

My friend R was involved in a near-fatal hit and run. He sustained heavy injuries which included multiple fractures all over his body. His car fell off a highway ramp and the driver who hit his car sped off without even calling for help! In between slipping in and out of consciousness R had to call his friend on his own mobile for help and get this, the fire department only came after 45 minutes and after they cut open the car to remove the poor bloke, bystanders were robbing him as he lay on the ground!

The few firefighters were controlling the crowd and it was not until the medics came that they managed to create a ring around him to keep the crowd away. R had to use his broken arm to protect his wallet and the chain around his neck until his friends came to the scene. He lost his phone and watch. It is just so disgusting how people are.

Apparently this is a common thing. I was told that whenever there is an accident, the tow truck drivers would rob the cars before providing help to the victims. So there you go. Sick innit?