08.08.13

Malaysia

I’m sorry, I know how tedious it is when people harp on about their holidays. But I mention it again because it felt real only today, not because I printed my boarding pass, but because I picked up the cash from the bureau de change.

And the thought that popped into my head was: I’m pretty sure I hadn’t seen too many $100 ringgit notes when I was a kid – did they look unfamiliar to me now for that reason, or simply because they had changed?

It’s a very strange feeling indeed. I wonder if the sounds/language(s) and smells and what-not that were so much a part of my childhood will feel familiar once again, or if I’ve been away for too long.

I came home this evening and the first thing I did was turn on Spotify to listen to P. Ramlee. (My older sister would be quite chuffed with that, I think. The last time I listened to P. Ramlee was at her place earlier this year when I introduced her to Spotify and she plugged in several world music, obscure, non-mainstream songs she could think of – P. Ramlee was one of them; Spotify had them all, by the way.)

07.08.13

fan

The imminent holiday/return to my birth country has been playing on my mind. It’ll be the first time I’ve been back since my early-teens. I wonder whether the sights, sounds and smells will be familiar or whether things will have changed so much that it’ll be like being in a totally new place.

Not to mention, the cockroaches. Enormous, dark, flying terrors which give me the heebie-jeebies. I’m feeling ill thinking about them. (Totally the wrong thing to think about, but there you have it. I can’t control the phobia, can I? I think one of the reasons I stayed in the UK for so long was because I met very few cockroaches there. Perth -to which I return regularly to see my folks- has big ones, but they’re nowhere near as terrifying as the ones I remember from my tropical childhood.)

06.08.13

shoe love

The shorts never made it out last the weekend after all, but I’m hopeful they will soon. In the meantime, I’ve come an acceptance that chicks really dig the boyfriend jeans, but guys less so. You can’t win ‘em all.

the top of my head

I found myself on a dancefloor on Sunday evening, standing beside a giant. The top of my head barely made it to his nipple. Anyway, I gave him my iPhone and told him to take a shot of the dancefloor. This was one of the three (with a couple of tweaks by me). A shame, really, the other two were on the blurry side. How strange it must be to be forever looking over or at the top of others’ heads. (That’s his beer in my right hand, just in case anyone thinks I was being a total monster with the booze, going double-barrelled.)

04.08.13

expectationYesterday ended up being one of those awesome days I’ll hopefully remember when I’m 70 and smile, laugh even. You know those days? The ones that just ‘happen’ and turn out better than you could’ve planned if you’d had the foresight to do so.