January, 2008

I’ve always wondered, right.. that amongst all of you out there who have since found, the ‘One’.. how did you know this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? I often get a myriad of answers ranging from, “I still don’t” to “You just know”. But driving to work this morning, and listening to this song – which is on Mooke’s blog too, by the way – I figured.. if I ever reach a point where I find someone I can dedicate the above song to.. every inch of it’s golden-syrup corniness, with a sense of irony and humour but not a trace of cringeworthiness or remorse.. then I think that’s the point where I’d be pretty much in love.

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When marking exam papers, is it just me, or does anybody else have a John Humphrys voice inside their head booming, “John Smith, you have 85 points!” ala Mastermind?

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Some would know that my kid sister, Nadia, started Standard 1 earlier this month. As a family we were all quite apprehensive about it, as she did not take to kindergarten very well. Nadia was born at the end of 2001, making among the youngest in her age group; we were not quite sure how this would or would not affect her. But my parents are, of course, supportive as are the other siblings. It’s almost a full house in Bangi at the moment – Zahid is home for the Australian summer; so if you factor Faiz into the equation you can pretend that I almost never existed and have one Happy Family!

I’ve always wondered how my presence would be seen through Nadia’s lenses. She was born when I was doing my weekly stints in Muadzam; so I was very much a weekly sister. Before she turned 1 I got back on the plane to Britain, unbeknownst to me then, but from then on, I was merely a voice she would her on the phone and a face that turned up at the doorstep every nine or ten months. Now my mum tells me that in order to motivate her to go to school and do her homework, she would intersperse comments about how Nadia was similar to me, which apparently makes the little girl quite excited.

“Wah, Nadia minum Ribena.. macam Along lah,” my sister would comment (I was a Ribena addict from womb all through STF; nothing tastes quite as good as Chipsmore dipped in warm Ribena). “Ya kena belajar bahasa Inggeris, nanti boleh borak dengan Along in English,” my mum would encourage her. I am told her face lights up when these comments are made. Am I now a mythical figure that can do no wrong, something that someone now aspires to be? Do they have any idea how dysfunctional I am? Do they want two dysfunctional daughters (okay maybe three, since Farah is beyond reproach).

Oh, Nadia, if there is one thing I want to teach you, it is that you can screw up immeasurably sometimes, but that, of all things, is absolutely, perfectly okay.
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Yesterday morning, on the way from the car park to the office, I walked past the lake on the north side of campus. It was a beautiful morning, sun shining, the chill crisp but not biting. It seemed as if the ducks were enjoying it too. They were soaring above, in multiple groups of seven or nine in beautiful V-formations that had their feathers glistening in the early morning rays. I looked up at them for a while, and the only thing I could think of was… “Tolonglah itik ni jangan berak atas kepala aku”. The glass, this week at least, is rather half empty.

The bad news is, I’ve had to abandon plans to do the Silverstone Half this year; not for the lack of training or even gumption, but due to the lack of funds. Considering that I would need to drive to Northamptonshire the day before, and get a proper night’s sleep which means a proper bed; plus at least one person accompanying me there.. drives up the cost to a little over £100. Factoring in that I am not likely to win any cash prizes there to cover the £100, I decided that from now onwards all runs I participate in will generally take place in Colchester or London. So the Silverstone Half will be replaced by the British 10-KM in July, InsyaAllah.

But closer to today, I have signed up for the Sport Relief 3 Mile, due to take place on March 16. Yes, despite the lack of updates on the running blog, I am still turning out when I can; but I have begun to focus on some strength training as well, since it’s winter. Sport Relief is targeted at helping people in the poorest countries, and vulnerable people in the UK. You can read more about where the money goes. My aim is to raise £100 for the cause; so far I’ve managed to collect a tenner. Heads up to Nor who chipped in even before I wrote this spiel.

If you fancy making me suffer a little bit more than I usually do, click here or on the Sport Relief logo in the top right corner of the blog. If I get to beat my personal best of 31:48 on the day, I’ll match 10p for every pound already donated.

Addendum:
Can I entice anyone else to join in this run? You don’t have to do three miles; you can do either one or six. It’d just be quite a good day out.

I am feeling a bit nostalgic this morning because I was sorting through random bric-a-brac (read: junk) last night and I found something that belonged to another lifetime. Not really for me, but for other people who were that at that point in time. During my heady days as a Masters student at Lancaster, I had acquire a reputation for .. well.. spilling drinks across my front. Of course, a trick that I worked very hard at since young: many underestimate the diligence and passion needed to simulate the fact that your chin has a hole in it, thereby allowing water you sip trickle onto your front. As a joke, for my birthday some friends bought me a Mickey Mouse tumbler with a straw on the lid, so I could better manage my fluid intake, so to speak. So many things have happened since then, it all feels like a different lifetime. So I tuned into this song on the way to work today, my father-to-be friend, because it reminded me of you.