Her Pandora’s Box

Dear sugarplum fairy,

On a certain Sunday afternoon, the weather is cool and breezy yet bright and inviting. Lazy, sexy, quiet and calming. As good as peace. All you can think of is to have your hair up, put on a white camisole and have chamomile tea at the cosy cafe in your neighbourhood, Buddy Hoagie’s. You shouldn’t forget to bring a book along and waste your afternoon reading. Now that it’s said, i am going to do just that.

As soon as the semester started, i’ve learnt to take things slow, one at a time. I’ve learnt to not think too hard, to be bolder and to tell myself that i will be alright. I live one day at a time. I sleep on difficult emotions and to wake up recovered and reborn. I don’t remember yesterday, i don’t wish to think of tomorrow. I have done it for a week now and it feels like the longest week of my life but i feel good everyday. And if i don’t, i’ll be fine tomorrow.

Oh and morning’s are much less shitty when you’ve got Oh Mandy by The Spinto Band on your stereos. I promise.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Coach Tie & Dye Edition Hobo Handbag, I want.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

When a Malaysian dancer is introduced to another Malaysian dancer through a Singaporean dancer, it might sound like this:

Me: Woi Ming Hui! Meet An Nur, from K.L. Anne, meet Ming Hui, from Kelang.

Ming: Oh hello!

Me: She’s muslim, you know.

Ming: Huh! Really ar? Chinese muslim?

Anne: Yap. ( smiles warmly)

Ming: Ay kamu jangan banyak campur sama Maria tau. Dia tu makan babi, tetek mesti setengah nampak! Tak suci! (laughs her heart out at me)

Me: Alamak kalau SUCI kau nampak mata aku je la joget-joget! Ay wanton sama char kway teow aku halal punye la please! Kau ni buat malu je! Aku balik rumah ngaji punye orang tau! Tetek je tak tau simpan. (laughing my heart out)

Oh what an impression. I was about to faint. I’m sure Anne’s freaked out by now. Nonetheless god damn funny. Ming Hui is one ass kicking Malaysian.

Dear sugarplumfairy,

What would be more typical? Its the third day of school and I am aching all over. I feel sore, much too sore. But i feel i’ve grown as a dancer, incosistent yet drastic. Finally i am DANCING, finally i am MOVING, finally i BELIEVE in myself. I am beginning to trust Me now. I have never felt so centered and focus. Afterall, i will be doing this for the next many years of my life. I no longer feel i am unaccustomed to create bodily art in spaces. I dance.

Early this morning, Elizabeth the ballet phenomenon, told me that my feet is fantastic, my point is beautiful, my arch is incredible and my ankles are nice and loose.

However, they are not strong enough.

Thus, for body conditioning, i had to work it to tears. The agony, unspeakably cruel. My ankles were made to do many horrendous exercises and the pain crawled up to my calves, my thighs and then my ass.

About two hours ago, i was climbing down the stairs unsightfully. One at a time. Aesthetically unappealing. Thankfully, my Salsa class has been cancelled this evening.

Lately, i’ve created my connection with god once again. Which means, i have been praying. I feel disgustingly ashamed of abandoning my responsibilty as a muslim. My rude and revealing way of dressing seems to make matters much worse. Neglecting your core task in life is not quite a good idea, trust me.

Contrastingly, i’d like to pierce my eyebrow next month. I never quite understood why a pierced eyebrow is so luring. As expected, it isn’t quite a popular movement since i do not seem to gather much support to have it pierced. So can i have some, please?

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Last week passed like a sore up my ass. It was definitely a toughy and i, together with some other people has learnt plenty of good stuff from it.

Thats that.

Today’s the first day of school. I met lorries of friends just now. Both new and old. I also met my new ballet teacher, Elizabeth Thng. She is phenomenal.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

I decided to console myself, so out of the whole list of junkies i had online, i clicked on Aidil.

Me: Aidil, am i not pretty?

Dil: You’re beautiful Maria

Dil: Its just some people go through stages in life called pimples? Its normal really.

Me: (Broke out into an incredibly loud and refreshing laughter)

So i did pick the right person to cheer me up. Aidil is an awfully ridiculous person, but i’d like to believe he can be sweet if he wants to. When you see him on stage, thats pretty much almost nothing compared to what he really is.

P.S he has an imaginary gurlfriend whose name’s Sherliza.

On another window, this was its conversation:

Sally: If a guy doesn’t appreciate you.. Would you wanna stick with him?

Sally: Would you marry a guy who loves you less than you love him?

Me: No, of course not.

Sally: So dyou think he loves you more than you love him?

Me: No, definitely not.

Sally: Then you have answered it.

She told me to be courageous and not to always cry.

I am desperately trying.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Each time i read Karen Cheng’s blog, i am awe-inspired.

She makes mommy-hood look so good.

I love that girl.

Speaking of being a mom, i love the thought of it. It’ll be so fun just fuming your brains to think where you’d take the kids to this weekend, or being there to witness their first day in ballet class, or the first day of school, or just how they look at you and tell you they love you. Oh my.. These small people has made me a diabetic.

From where we sat, we depart.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

For the last 6 hours or so, i have been battling chest pains that creeps up onto my shoulder and then transmitted all over. There i was, limped in bed looking like i was fighting for my life. Yes, i was fighting for my life: air.

Air seemed thin and i was slowly blacking out. I was coughing and panting, sweating and exhausted. I was all alone at home and amidst all that, i was wishing for mom, for dad, for Yas or just anyone for help. But i was immobile and everything was spinning. Slowly.

This afternoon, i received a telephone call. My uncle has passed away.

He was in the bus, and had only 3 more stops before reaching home to his wife when he collapsed onto the person seated next to him. They called the ambulance, they tried to revive him and they failed.

He may not be the closest uncle but he was one of the very few who was nice to me. Before he had his first grand-daughter, i was the victim of his little kidnaps and provoking of humourous questions. And every other time i see Santa, i am reminded of him. Christmas will never be the same again.

He departed so peacefully. To just quietly sit and then be taken away. On my day, i would certainly beg for God to gently take me to him. Let me sleep and then take me. There is nowhere else i’d rather be.

Death is comforting, holy and seductive.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

Back then when we were really, really young.

And we grew.

And grew..

And grew..

And suddenly stopped growing. Our bra sizes too.

Nina, Faezah and I have known each other for 12 years now. Sally and Nini, 12 years with each other. The five of us, have been growing up together eversince the first day of secondary school up until now. That’ll sum up to about 6 years of rocking good time. However, we have all grown up to not only be fat, but we’ve become selfish, ignorant and arrogant bastards towards each other and the friendship. Us and our own selfish little reasons, excuses and commitments. Not forgetting uninitiated, undriven and sloppy at trying to revive the bond. I am just alike. I love and miss us too much. Please, give back to me The Five Of Us.

Dear sugarplum fairy,

[picture of me taken during an informal school showing, a ballet performance]

A dance student’s life, is depressing. It revolves around criticism, discipline and self-motivation. A dance student’s life, is so full of humiliation, physical pain and exhaustion. Many times, a dance student breaks down. They question their abilty, the decision they have made, they spit and swear at their physical limitations, they are exhausted. They are tested physically, mentally and emotionally.

School holidays will officially come to an end this 24th.

Each time i start dancing, i become someone else. I feel posessed, i cannot think, i am not nervous, i am unaware of my surroundings and i become bolder.

Dad has given me two choices.

1. to take over and grow as much as i can from his business, get rich instantly. We’re talking million U.S dollars.
2. to grow as a dancer, struggle, breakdown and chase my dream.

I chose 2.

Why? I don’t know. I never did.