I can only manage my Sunday for now

It is Monday. Sadly the weekend failed to rejuvenise me. I have been yawning as soon as I woke up and my head hurts from it.

I must stay awake. Must.

Nothing much happened on Friday… My memory failed me again as I could not remember if we had dinner at home or makan kat luar…. Of course the memory is trivial but I just would like to remember is all….

Saturday was quite busy. The day started earlier than usual as the kids had their tennis lesson. For years I had been paying for a 2 day a week lessons….but only sending my kids to 1... Bangang lah yang amat... Trying to shift their piano classes proved difficult but luckily coach agreed to start the class 1 hour earlier. However, to mobilize the kids waaayy earlier than before proved difficult. Takpelah, pelan-pelan, eh ?

*Pelan-pelan = slowly

*Amat = very so banganglah yang amat is very stupid

When we returned home (earlier too as shifted the art class to another day), Bibik had lunch all nice and ready. Nasik of course but I ate nonetheless because she once admitted that dia segan Kamil and I never partake any of her cooking.

*segan = embarrassed

I explained of course about my bowel problems but don’t think she could really comprehend what it was. So I ate and it was delicious. Gulai sotong that tasted like something Sari Ratu offers plus simple ikan goreng but it was heaven.

*If I have to translate gulai sotong, I will kick you in the nads, okay…. You know I’m talking about you….

Kamil came home sniffling. I did wonder of it was just a ruse to back out of our plans for the night. Which then reminded me of something sneaky that I had to do so called my co-conspirator to.. well laid out the plans.

Watched the telly while waiting for him to sleep it off, if it was real lah… Should be genuine as even I could not fake the red nose and watery eyes… Although the less than peachy attitude is all him, 24/7…

We got ready by 5 to go to Min’s house. With Ian because we were going somewhere together afterwards. Min was celebrating her dad’s birthday so it was nice. We ate loads. Soto, spaghetti bolognese, lovely fruit tarts, kole kacang, kuih tako, garlic bread and copious amounts of goreng pisang.

The goreng pisang is truly nice, okay. Sweet and crispy and initially quite unreachable, in the middle of another guests’ table. Noreen took pity on Kamil salivating from afar, got up and took some for him, and for us to share of course. Since they tasted really good, Ian used his talent to transfer the whole thing to our table, which we much appreciated of course. I was full the the brim when we left, announced that I would not need dinner, a statement that Ian chose not to believe.

Oh… aku kantoi while we were there. All my tembelangs pecah and it was all my fault. I had forgotten to include the most important person in this very feeble attempt to cover Kamil’s eyes from the truth.

*Tembelang pecah = lies and cover up blew up on my face

The truth to how much our tickets cost.

It all started like 3 weeks ago. We had collectively agreed to go and watch Men in Tutus at KL Pac. I read about them and was intrigued, so when Noreen suggested going, although I was ecstatic, I had to watch for Kamil’s reaction. When he nodded his head in agreement, I jumped for joy, with glee and however else I can jump due to happiness.

I had always, always wanted to see a ballet and to see men as ballerinas sounded fantastic. Then Noreen sms-ed asking if the RM 130 ticks are okay. That was when all the problems started. Kamil had a lot to say to that, and “Am not paying that much money to see balls dancing on stage…up close and personal..near my face…” was the one that he repeated over and over again. So Noreen was to get us the cheapest one at RM 88. But the show is popular and the number of seats dwindled fast.

Noreen managed to get the RM 111 tics, which was like the 2nd cheapest one but I know Kamil would still be unhappy. That was why I needed to discuss with Ian, to let Kamil think the ticks cost as much as he deemed acceptable. He he…. The bummer of it all was, I had forgotten to tell Noreen. Well, it didn’t matter really as my nefarious plans with Ian came to naught because I didn’t take into account my Adik who showed Babah Aunty Noreen’s “I bought the RM 111 tickets” message.

There were so many sms-es in my keeping and I just do not know why my daughter chose that one to show her Babah. I must have done something wrong to be punished just so. Everything unraveled in the car, on the way to Min’s. That guy can be soooo cruel. Why didn’t he confront me earlier ? Why at the last minute when I was agonizing about the ways and the hows to not let him get his hands on the tickets and inadvertantly see the price ?

He of course kept making evil references about it while we ate at Min’s, in front of our friends. I was rather zen through all the teasings as I know my revenge will come in the form of him enjoying the show, when he realised that the depth of the hole the show created in his pocket is immaterial really (funny as I didn't even think to offer paying my own way.....very mysterious that) because it was worth it. And seeing balls tightly encased in spandex (or whatever material ballerinas like to wear) is just collateral damage. Okay, maybe collateral damage is not the right word, but you get what I mean.

KL Pac is lovely. It is situated in the middle of Sentul (Kamil got us there in 20 minutes… Well done…) but as soon as you drive through the pintu gerbang, you are transported to a different place, brimming with colonial history and promises of the future. I love it. You have to drive through a charmingly winding road to get to the KL Pac building and we were ooh-ing and aah-ing the whole 5 minutes (or less).

The building itself was nice, very well refurbished to still retain its original historical shape. The interior was classy, modern and comfortable. I can't find words to describe it really as I have used up my entire decorating/architectural vocab. Ignore my bumbling attempt to illustrate its beauty and splendour, just take my word that the place is gorgeous, in its own rustic charm.

Anyway, we were ushered in by the crowd and the lady with the mike warning us that we wouldn’t be allowed in if we were late (until there were appropriate pauses during the show) and again were wowed by the studio theatre. The walls were of somber colour sure but the seats were an explosion of colours with alternating blue, green, red, yellow, orange and black covers. Again, have to stop now as had run out of words.

I got boring yellow though. Kamil got a nicer red. Oh yeah, Kamil showing off his RM 111 ticket. Get over it !

Noreen sat on a very nice shade of blue and Ian's orange made me craving for fresh orang juice. I ordered mango though for some reason.....

The show was superb. The ‘ballerinas’ were beautiful and oh so graceful. I kept looking at their legs moving about, marveling at their strength and ability to twist that way and that, that I missed a lot of the comedy, acted by their hands and faces. Eventhough some had a decidedly male height (and Kamil said he could see their Adam’s Apple), but they moved like women, so lithe, enchanting and… feminine….

I love it.

Kamil laughed often enough so I know that he thought highly of it too. Plus, I have the evidence, please see below.

Look at that, my hubby berpeluk berbagai dengan 'Italiano ballerina' which Ian thought looked hot. Well he is. I was a bit put out because my husband gatal....

When in truth, I was the itchy one as they are all men.... Looks can be very, very deceiving. After Kamil snapped this, I turned to Swan Lake's Odette, and said, "You are lovely...." with so much feeling. And he went "Awww hon, thank you..." and as I walked away, he didn't let go off my hands....

The wizard and one of the swan maidens. They were one of the 4 ballerina divas in the first act.

He wouldn’t have taken the pics if he loathes it, okay… So I win. All his superior teasings earlier meant nothing as he reluctantly agreed that the RM 130 seat would give us better view AND we can’t see their balls, which is of utmost importance to him. Well except for the male dancers with masculine roles.

“Is that padding or real ?” He whispered during the 3rd act.

“What do you think ? Reallah...” And he slinked back to his seat. Kah kah….

We drove out of KL Pac with smiles on our faces (okay, I did… Didn’t know about the rest. I just assume they did…). We drove to Up Town because Ian needed a pharmacist and Kamil wanted rojak buah. “Very healthy…” Said Noreen.

But when ada orang asyik mention William’s berulang-ulang kali, Kamil got the picture and drove to William’s sebab takut orang tu chom. Because of that we came home fat and full and didn’t have breakfast and jogged around tasik 5 times the next day.

*Chom = I already expained to you, yeah ?

How can I describe Williams ? Good food that came in epic proportions probably is the best way I could word it. I didn’t order anything as was still full from Min’s. Noreen ordered Cantonese Kuew Tiaw that came sizzling in a clould of smoke, meant for 3 people. Ian ordered garlic naan with chicken that was really, really good but could clog your arteries because it came with slabs of butter and caramel sauce. Kamil ordered roti canai wrapped around delicious aloo gobi with lamb kebab that was indeed a delight to the tastebuds. The same one which the 4 of us failed miserably to finish off. It was waaaayyyy too much.

I wasn’t hungry but I had to help out my comrades. I had too ! The kuew tiaw came with loads of prawns and squids enough to open up your own fishmonger (okay lah… exaggeration but at RM 25 a pop, just imagine the number of the tasty and gout inducing crustaceans there were in the plate ?), the lamb kebabs went very well with the roti canai and aloo gobi, and the garlic naan ? Soft and crunchy at the same time. I really do not know how that was possible.

At the end of the meal, big bellied Kamil whined, “I had only wanted rojak buah…”

He he….

We arrived home very,very late, waddling to the door. The boys switched on the telly and watched football.

And because this entry is like super, duper long, I will continue tomorrow about my Sunday.

Who knew maintaining a blog could be draining ?

Who knew indeed…