Night out on the town

I am so happy I'm on holidays! It's raining outside which is great as it means I don't have to water the plants! :D

I am so happy that I've got time today to potter around the house. I am slowly but surely dejunking my house and ergo, my life! Woohoo!

I must start to do some writing soon though. For work and for the mag. But that's next on my schedule.

Michy

Gotta write till my fingers fall

I don't like writing for free anymore. Working as a writer makes me want to do anything but write during my free time. I do, however, still think about writing, even during those spare few moments, or improve my craft by either reading a really good book or watching the news for the news style.

"If I was any younger, I'll take him as my lover," said my grandma one day. She's talking about her pen pal. This man she met in the US when she was there on a short holiday last year. She told me that they met at a Presbyterian Church and kept in touch via snail mail when he moved to Arizona and she came back to Sydney.

It was a shock hearing my grandma say "lover" instead of "partner", "boyfriend" or "husband". But then again, I have to admit that I am more conservative than her.

I feel, uh, cheated somewhat. She's sort of going out with someone here and I like him. He always comes to our place to keep her company and even helps her with chores around the house! You would think that he will stay away when she's ill but I don't know what his reasons are but he's there at her worst. And accompanied me twice when I took her to her doctor.

The second problem is, my grandma asked me to email him. And continue to correspond with him and pretend I am her. I told her that I don't want to do that and she said there's nothing wrong with it. They are "harmless" correspondences. My grandma don't see a problem at all about the fact that the person wouldn't want to be reading someone else's letter.

The guy is half her age. My grandma's got a crush on him. My grandma's " boyfriend doesn't know about this man whom my grandma's been regularly corresponding with.

All I want is for my grandma to be happy. She always tells me "If only I were young, I would do this..." or "Don't waste your youth Michelle. Do this, do that..."

I am quite happy being conservative and not doing stuff outside my moral code. I'm quite happy. But I'm wondering if I would look at life the same way when I'm her age and I realise that I haven't done anything remotely lewd. :P Except this one time, at band camp...

Either way, I'm happy to see her, at 85, still feeling lust for someone. And, strictly speaking, cheating on her manfriend. Though they are really "just friends". I haven't seen them kiss or hold hands or anything. :P

In good spirits

My entire family has this theory that one or more harmless spirits live in our house. I call them spirits instead of ghosts because the word ghost has a negative connotation to it. I don't know how to describe it but there's a peaceful feeling that pervades in our house. Like the sun couldn't wait to shine and bless us with its light. The theory is even made more compelling by the fact that for all the house break-ins around us, we've been fairly safe. Knock wood. The suggestion to that, scary as it sounds, is that the thief will see visions or hear people about when there's none.

My uncle Danny used to live downstairs and he said he never felt anything eerie. Though whether it's my imagination or not, downstairs feel like it's hands off. Like the part of the bargain is that they get to have peace and quiet downstairs. Which presents a problem as I want to renovate and if possible, demolish the house and construct two townhouses.

But that's not the point of this blog entry. The point is that I want to say thanks to the invisible, 'peaceful', friendly spirit/s - if they are around - who live in our house. Movies are always about scary ghost stories but to angels and spirits that walk this earth quietly protecting people or keeping them out of harm's way. I thank you. :D

Lit Hop

I've made a very interesting discovery yesterday. Some guy who's got a masters in English decided to rap using Chaucer's pieces including the Canterbury Tales. Lit Hop. I like the sound of that. Unlike Nas' laments that hip hop is dead. This guy, Baba Birkman = easier to remember given the alliteration of course = has opted to take hip hop onto a new direction. There is one problem though. He's not black. I have a soft spot for black rappers and an almost no tolerance I'll-take-Eminem-only acceptance of white rappers. Why? The short answer is that I am prejudiced. My selfish reason is that white people have already taken opportunities left right and centre in other fields and now are trying to take rap and hip hop, among the last bastions of black domination off of their hands. Not that hip hop was ever exclusively black. Baba drew parallels between rap and poetry "battle" style back in Chaucer's days. This really brings rap back to what it is at it's very core. Rhyme in verse. Nothing special. Nothing urban. Non-denominational form of music.

I of course believe that while I am struggling with my prejudices and have to start taking away my favoritism towards quote-unquote ethnic and minority communities, I do believe that above all else, talent should prevail. And as Baba Birkman looks to be delivering the goods, I'd have to salute him. Lit hop's got a nice ring to it. Let's get it started.

m

Weights

I did my first set of weights today. I've never done weights before. Like a full on weights regime so I'm curious to find out how I'm going to feel like tomorrow. I hope not too achey as I want to keep doing my stuff.

I've FINALLY written the script for the hip hop dance competition. Sheesh. It's taken me long enough.

And I finally sorted out my website today. I don't want to blog about it because I don't want to read back the events surrounding it in the future years. I'm sure most autobiographers are biased like that. Selective Memory. It's a coping mechanism that we all resort to. It's bittersweet-funny-I-dont-want-to-psychoanalyse it kinda encounter.

I don't know what to write about. So many things to say. But life is like that. When you've got things happening, you don't have time to reflect nor write about it.

M

Belly dancing

It was a hectic day. I started it by going to a belly dancing class, completely unplanned, as I intended to do some weights today but saw that the class was on at 9.15am and thought, why not?

I was pleasantly surprised by what I learnt! The music our instructor played was good Middle East music (to my virgin ears :P) but definitely one I gladly wobbled to. Wobbled as in I felt a bit uncoordinated making the moves she suggested. I wasn't completely new to it as I remembered feeling exactly the same way when Belle and I attended the hip hop dance class held in Parramatta. I loved it though. Plus, I think I was the youngest person in there. All of them in their 50s or older. One in particular who caught my attention was this New Zealander woman (in her late 60s), who came to the class but had to stop midway because her knees started to ache. But good for her for giving it a go!

It was my first class of course but I already got the hang of it. And when the instructor came up to me she asked me if I've done other dancing before and I said yes. And she said I can tell. That's pretty cool.

Okay, so I'm not too happy about my, ugh, muffin top. I don't understand why they called it muffin top. sure it looks like a muffin top but it's far more hideous while muffin tops are delish!

I have all these things I want to write about but chances are my fingers will tire before I get around to writing about all of them. Okay, so after Belly Dancing, I had a major outburst when my brother asked me for money so he can lend it to my cousin who needs the money to pay his motorcycle. I mean, he's going to lend someone money by lending money from me. I think it's great that he wants to help my cousin but what about me? I'm always the "takbuhan". Even when I've got no more money, it's all charged on my credit card. What happens if I lose my job? How can I pay for all my debts?

I went to Jane's place to get a videocam of veej blogging so that was good. I felt a sense of achievement there. Then I dropped it off at Joey's place whom I took to dinner. I wanted him to see a bit more of Sydney while he's here.

The christmas lights are lit. Pinochet is dead. The bushfire continue to blaze. And I'm here downloading Gwen Stefani's latest album courtesy of a fellow blogger.

Life is good.

Michy

Another day

Yet another blog. How many times do I have to start another blog to write freely? But just as well I can start a fresh blog everytime I want a fresh start. Not like real life where you're stuck with the same name, same life, same orbit. It's harder to break away I guess. Not like a blog where you literally start from a blank sheet. In this case, a blank blog.

I have chosen the name "Tuesdays with Blisters" for no particular reason. Just that it evokes life (Tuesdays as in Tuesdays with Morrie) and Blisters = that perennial problem that most women who wear high heels whether they like it or not have to deal with. Oh to wear high heels without blisters. That would be heaven on stilettoes!

There are random things and even more random things NOT happening in my life. The christmas decorations are up of course and all 10 plugs are plugged in. I'm hoping that I don't overload the one plug that's lighting up about a dozen christmas lights.

Santa is out there giving out hope to all who writes up a christmas wish list. As for me, I am, like most women, yearning for what is forever out of reach. How is it that there are so many single women around the world? We can't all be undesirable? And why am I against men who can't spell? That's not a sin. It's not a flaw. But I'll be damned if I go out with someone who can't spell. Why is my list of "what to have" so long? I even refused a kitchen designer today who negotiated the price to do up my kitchen from $12,000 to $3,500. That's an absolute bargain! But what sounds too good is too real to be too good.

What to do? I have started my gym regime though plus on a veggie diet and working on getting the house fixed. I love my life. I do. I can give a whole lot more of love to people who love me but the weight of money (and their need for it) is like a millstone around my neck.

Lord, can you please make me meet a man already? I don't ask you for much. So, please?