aDrenais' Book of Shadows

The Crew Room in Courtyard Marriott Chennai (Madras) is cool stuff. Bigger than my entire apartment in Bahrain, there is a freaking mini-cinema with fully reclining seats. There are three individual sitting areas with their own comfy sofas, presumably for different sets of crew so we don't have to fight. The beverage maker dispenses superb coffee, and we get free cookies, what more can a girl ask for? The only grouse is that there's only one computer terminal, so that I was waiting for Internet access for more than 2 hours before getting to blog. Minor inconvenience.

I spent 5774 Rupees on books at Spencer Plaza earlier today. That is about USD130, but I bought more than 10 books so that's ok. I finished Mitch Albom's new book, For One More Day, within half a day, and like the 2 Mitch Albom books before this one I cried buckets. My favourite quote from the book goes something like this: "A child who feels embarassed by his mother is a child who hasn't grown up enough". I remember that for about 8 years of my life, I lived in deep embarassment of my mother's actions, and kept forays into the public arena with her to the minimum so that I won't have to die of shame. Such idiocy.

I also bought a whole series of Robin Sharma's self improvement books. For the uninitiated, Robin Sharma is the guru who wrote The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, this mega mega bestseller that has sold millions. I've only read one of his books before, morbidly-titled Who Will Cry When You Die? It is a collection of mini-lessons, reminders on how you can live your life in a more fulfilling manner. I loved it! I stocked up on the Chicken Soup series as well, buying 4 of them at a go. Insyallah these will help me become a better person before I return to Singapore.

A trip to the gym after a span of like 6 months left me feeling seriously winded. I swear I could feel my fats jiggling as I strode briskly on the sodding treadmill (I've succumbed, and joined the hamster club!). I feel like such an idiot for allowing myself to fall into such a state, especially when I have all the time in the world to keep in shape. As I was relating to my brother, all the Shape magazines I've ever purchased are neatly stacked in the corner of my room. Once in awhile I take them out to read so that I'm aware of the endless workouts I can perform without having to set foot into the gym, but do I ever bother to give them a go? No, because it's too cold in Bahrain, because I'd rather swim than do reps, because I need a gym ball for that, because...I will endeavour to lose some weight before CNY; the last thing I want is to go overseas to work for pittance, then have someone tell me I look 'fuller, life in the Middle East must be good for me'.

Elgin had to endure another of my outbursts when I returned to Singapore on duty last week. I gave him hell for the same old things; I know I have to accept that people don't change but can't he make it abit easier? Since I worked in a predominantly female environment, I decided to utilise my resources and asked every girl on board for advice, returning to Bahrain to poll even more friends. Turned out most girls have given up on their men writing cards/notes/letters/e-mails to them, and accept that the most they'll ever be fortunate enough to receive is the occasional SMS. Responses range from "Guys just don't have it programmed in them" to the flat "Don't expect anything, and everything they do will be bonus". So it's not just Singaporean men who don't bother, men from around the world are the same. It was rather disappointing to know, but comforting at the same time knowing that all the girls are in the same predicament. But why would they not bother, if it will make their girlfriends happy? What is so hard about a note, or a card? Do you have it harder than I do, where I have to buy stamps only from the airport and have only 3 known locations in Bahrain from which I can post cards? With a SAM machine every corner and a postbox at every MRT station, it's hardpressed for me to understand why a card cannot find it's way to me once in awhile.

I thought I finally had it figured out, a way of combating such lazyass non-display of initiative. While buying him a lovely card for Valentine's Day, I took it upon myself to purchase a card that I'd like to receive, and handed it to him just for him to fill it out. See, I've accepted that he'd never ever buy a card that comes close to what I'd like to receive, so I thought I'd just save myself the heartache of receiving ugly cards with crappy prose, and make it easier for the both of us. BUT! He managed to screw even this up. I gave him the card together with a paperbag that he had to bring to the hotel for me later on in the day, and he spent 4 hours at home without bothering to open the paperbag to take the card out. So I found the card in the paperbag when he brought it for me to the hotel, untouched. Come on, it's stupid enough for me to buy myself a card, but to realise that it didn't touch him enough for him to even take it out of the paperbag? I was livid the entire time I was in Sydney, and then some.

How he wormed his way out of that one still remains a mystery to me, but somehow he managed to make me forgive him, with extravagant promises that he will try harder, promises I know that he will not keep because people don't change. It is as much my own fault as it is his, for giving him once last chance each time knowing that nothing changes. If only I were braver, if only I were stronger, I'd do the right thing and save ourselves much heartache.