The Number Game

Stay away from me! Because i bite. And chew. A lot.
I admit i'm always one of those who finish their food last.
Hey but i didn't know that would warrant a counting frenzy.
On what?

Make a guess.
All i can say is i'm pretty amused.

A) The average time i take to finish a meal.
B) The extra time i need to finish my food after the first person finishes.
C) The number of people and ants who finish their food before i do.
D) The number of ants that ate the bits left by me, finished the bits and carried the remaining back to their nests.

And the answer is.....
None of the above. Haha. My friends are not wired quite right up there but options C & D are really for loonies.

Now for the real McCoy: the number of times i chew each time i send food into my not-too-puny mouth.

At the last count, it stands at 30 or MORE.
Why do i chew my food so much?
Because I love food!! So much so that i want to savour every bit, every morsel of it. Food is meant to be enjoyed!!
So it's not supposed to be in the same league as black magic where you go "Tada!! Now you see it! Now you don't!"
At least SOME of it should stay on the plate for a while.
Good food is always cooked with love. Hence it should be eaten with love and appreciation. (But i'll take equally long, if not longer, to finish food that taste horrible too. One gulp down. Pause for a minute before holding my breath and gulping another mouthful down.)
Hence my speed of eating. (Hey, those of you who gobble your food, i'm not implying the converse is true ok!!? I'm only speaking for myself)
So i'll stick to my 30 bites. For my love for food. And for the person who cooks it with love.

I'm the Empress..Haha

You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

What's New?!

What's new? What's new?
Why aren't i surprised that after soooo many years, i'm still a trembling idiot when i step into the exam studio?
I played way below standard. %$#$%^%$#@!*
It felt like deja vu the way the examiner talked to me.
It was just like how that examiner spoke, the one who auditioned me for teaching music in school.
I felt as though he was saying, "Nice try. Try again. Thank you. See you again."
It really felt that way.
Aiy. And immediately after, i was gripped by that feeling of being very lost. Don't know where to head to. Don't feel like going home. Don't feel like buying things. Don't feel like reading. Don't feel like doing anything.
But i needed to head somewhere if i didn't intend to plant my feet to the ground.
Headed home.
Felt like crying on my way home.
Didn't.
But didn't feel any better either.
Until i heard "Everytime U Cry" by John Farnham and Human Nature. One of my fav songs. Certainly came at the right time. Yes, after that i felt much better.
Hmmm, maybe a tiramisu will save my day. Plus a chionging session. Plus some good company. Plus more good food. Plus some booze. Plus dancing.
I'm talking about over the next few days.
I'm sad. Not crazy.

An act of faith

Faith. Something that is inversely proportional to age?
It seems the older you get, the lesser faith you have.
At least, that's what i see around me.
Yes.
We get let down too many times to know that life ain't pretty.
We get mangled by the ugliness of human behaviour to know why we need that fortress of guardedness.
We get jaded by disappointments, sometimes manifested by our closest and most deeply loved ones.
Still, to live life without faith?
I can't imagine that.
Yes, we'll need to live through the searing pain when faith takes a bruising. It gets so painful you wonder if you'll ever see daylight again.
But to not have faith at all?
I can't imagine that.
Suspicions. Mind games. Kill before you get killed. Betray before you get betrayed.
Yes, I'm an idealist.
Imagine how much better our world will be if everyone has more faith in themselves and in people around them.
Have faith. Keep faith.
Trust, I have, in you.
Cheers.

B(l)inded by commitment, lack of

Analogy about men who can't commit, as elucidated by Yengabadada.
Missy is a $100-shirt on display.
Mr likes the shirt. But ain't quite sure if he's willing to pay $100 for it.
The tone colour's a bit too light.
The button's a degree off.
The fit's a bit too snug.
But Mr tries on the shirt.
Not once. Not twice. Not thrice.
But time and again.
The shirt's really nice, thought Mr.
But I'm still not quite sure if I want to buy it. For $100.
Should he settle for a no-frill $80 one instead? Or that $200 one that comes a free silk tie and leather belt?
Mr bids for time. Until Missy is no longer on display. Sold for $100. In its original state.
In the meantime, it's playtime.

My sis plays S*** on the piano.

Nuf said.

Pleading Temporary Insanity...

Can't sit still.
Jittery.
Butterflies in stomach.
The cold room with black and white keys.
THE JUDGEMENT DAY.
Composure.
Confidence.
Concentration.
Can I? Can't I?
I can. I can't. I couldn't. I might.
Shouldn't I? Couldn't I?
Maybe. Yes. No. No. Yes.
Frantic mind. Racing.
Geared for head-on collision.
The being. Devoured by Panic.

"OHHHHHHHMMMMM....."

That was the only sound i could make when i sink my teeth into IT.
IT, that delectable, yummylicious, moist-to-perfect piece of brownie.
It take 26 years for me to discover that perfect piece of brownie.
Pretty long time, but it's worth the wait. The entire 26 years of it.
Missy Rossalini, who boasts making the best brownies in town, conceded to the divinity of that piece too.
Try it!! It's called "Guinness Brownie" or something. Can be found at Taka basement at a shop selling just brownies. So you can't miss it!
Oh boy, the thought of it just makes me wanna have another piece again!
Heaven!
Heaven!
Heaven!

Art is just a three-letter word...

i was offended when my piano student blurted out: "How can someone earn $8000 being a piano teacher. It's not like it's something as constructive as what engineers do." Before your eyes pop out, i'm not the $8k teacher in question.
I was angry and what she said certainly got me thinking: How many people think like her? Viewing music as something frivolous, something not constructive, something that should play second fiddle to fledgling and hopefully soon-to-be-booming industries like biomed, services etc. She's an intelligent woman over 30 and is learning music herself. If she thinks like that, what about people who have absolutely no inclinations to music? Of course, i can't use her case to extrapolate across our nation of 4 million smiles, but that thought just knocked me out completely.
Flat.
Cold.
If you think music/ piano is masak masak, go try it out yourself. Playing a beautiful piece is not as easy as you think. It's not just about putting your fingers on the keyboard such that it goes do-re-me.
There's technique. There's feel. There's soul. There's musicality.
And you think $8k can help you to attain that? I say, think again.

Dear Beethoven...

Such dark soul.
Such rousing music.
Such emotional depth.
Such prodigious talent.
Such vivid imagination.
Such lingering aftertaste.
Immortality he was not after but beckoning it came.
And how could it ever be any different?

Music of the Night...

Music that touches my heart and soul always makes me feel like crying. When i watched Notre Dame de Paris last fri, i felt like that. The acrobatics and dance extravaganza aside, it was really the emotions and angst portrayed by the singers that roused and ravaged the innermost feelings in me. Yes, i am one emotional creature. The musical wasn't superb, but it definitely topped my list alongside Les Miserables as the best. My heart almost died after the near-fatal afflictions of sore disppointment showered by Phantom of the Opera, Chicago, Miss Saigon and Mama Mia. But a disclaimer though: the musical contains histronics and theatrics that might feel over-the-top for pragmatics who are ingrained with the notion that romantic love is but a myth. Then the whole show would seem laughable and stupid. But i'm a hopeless romantic, so...
Another disclaimer: the show does not have live orchestra, something that i silently griped about in my heart when it first started.
Another disclaimer: you might suffer from the constant-shuttling-of-eyes syndrome after the show as you try to juggle to pay attention to the translation on the screen (the musical is in French), the singing, dancing and acrobatics on the stage all at once. It was a wild jamboree at times.
With so many disclaimers later, can i still say that the musical is a good production? Hell, yes. It was a whiff of fresh air when you compare it with other musicals. The dances could mean as much or as little to the audience, depending on how much the metaphorical aspects are interpreted. But ultimately, a musical is nothin when its music is not primed to steal your heart. And this one got me at all the right places.

It's a bird...It's a ...

I know i'm bad at drawing. But I didn't know i'm worse than lousy till very recently.
Had a potluck session at a friend's house and was doodling something for my friends to guess.
Picture in mind: a crown.
I told them gleefully: "This is very easy to guess!!"
Or so i thought.
After their first bout of laughter at my rather obscene drawing of a baguette, i was determined to prove them that i wasn't an entirely hopeless case.
I was determined to prove to them that i could draw simple things, like a crown, even though the simple drawing of a baguette turned out to be a misadventure.
"Can't you guess it?!?!" I was getting anxious to prove my point.
Nobody managed to guess it. And the most horrible thing happened: A friend revealed the subconcious Dali streak brewing in me.
A crown, to him, appeared to be like an anatomy. And not just any. My doodle, to him, was a warped representation of an anatomy.
I was aghast. Totally.
But what could i say? Let's just put it this way: He who sees chooses what he wants to see.
And that's how sausages, water-melons and papayas have their names defamed.