I checked the weather for Thailand - 33°C daily, though it's going to feel like 47°C.
I don't even know why I'm packing clothes.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
What's in a name - part 2
On the Saturday before our Malaysian wedding reception, all of Malcolm's aunts and uncles poured into the house to greet us, to eat, and to start the celebrations early. With Malcolm's mom being the eldest of eight siblings, and with many children and grandchildren running around already, there were a LOT of new faces to meet.
As they all arrived in a steady stream of bodies, I passed some helpful advice to Brodder that I'd learned myself the previous two times this had happened to me. It was a great survival tip and he appreciated it. Later, Like-a-boss-Lee asked Brodder if the evening had been overwhelming with all of that new family. He gave away the secret tip:
"Actually, once melody told me not to worry about the names and just to call everyone 'Auntie' or 'Uncle,' it was okay."
As they all arrived in a steady stream of bodies, I passed some helpful advice to Brodder that I'd learned myself the previous two times this had happened to me. It was a great survival tip and he appreciated it. Later, Like-a-boss-Lee asked Brodder if the evening had been overwhelming with all of that new family. He gave away the secret tip:
"Actually, once melody told me not to worry about the names and just to call everyone 'Auntie' or 'Uncle,' it was okay."
Friday, October 25, 2013
Herding cats
On the way to the Batu caves, we managed to arrive just 5 minutes before the next train to our destination was about to depart. Buying our tickets, we scurried over to the KTM entrance; Brodder took the lead while I brought up the rear to make sure we didn't lose mom or dad. We flew through the turnstiles (kind of - the ticking system was new to mom and dad) and Brodder led the way down to our platform.
"Platform 3!" he yelled over his shoulder.
"Platform 3!" I confirmed from the giant destination marquees set at the head of the station stairs. Taking the stairs at a run, blindly trusting us, mom called back up to us,
"Platform 3, how do you know?"
Giant marquees.
When we reached the platform, we were asked again,
"Are you sure this is the right platform?"
Signs everywhere: "to Batu Caves."
Sigh.
...
Later that day, mom wanted to scoot up some steps to follow signs to the nearby hotel in hopes to score a tourist map. She'd originally asked Brodder, me and dad to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, but after a moment, Ken and I considered the bustle of the busy train station and decided otherwise.
"Dad, change of plans: follow mom up the stairs."
Dad obviously didn't hear me, so I repeated myself.
"Dad! Follow mom up the stairs."
He still didn't respond, so Brodder tried.
"Dad! Go up the stairs - follow mom!"
Still nothing.
"Dad! Go up the stairs!"
Finally, dad turned around to face us.
"Hey guys, I think we should follow mom up the stairs."
Yes.
"Platform 3!" he yelled over his shoulder.
"Platform 3!" I confirmed from the giant destination marquees set at the head of the station stairs. Taking the stairs at a run, blindly trusting us, mom called back up to us,
"Platform 3, how do you know?"
Giant marquees.
When we reached the platform, we were asked again,
"Are you sure this is the right platform?"
Signs everywhere: "to Batu Caves."
Sigh.
...
Later that day, mom wanted to scoot up some steps to follow signs to the nearby hotel in hopes to score a tourist map. She'd originally asked Brodder, me and dad to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, but after a moment, Ken and I considered the bustle of the busy train station and decided otherwise.
"Dad, change of plans: follow mom up the stairs."
Dad obviously didn't hear me, so I repeated myself.
"Dad! Follow mom up the stairs."
He still didn't respond, so Brodder tried.
"Dad! Go up the stairs - follow mom!"
Still nothing.
"Dad! Go up the stairs!"
Finally, dad turned around to face us.
"Hey guys, I think we should follow mom up the stairs."
Yes.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Making a point
I somewhat recall waving a marshmallow skewer around that night, pointing the business end of it at TCHC, demanding him to make up his mind (about a girlfriend of mine) and to get his shit together about the other aspects of his life.
I was given more information than I had bargained for. And an onion. I was also given an onion.
Name that song
There's a song that always makes me think of my brother in-law, LaBLee, every time I hear it. It was his ringtone the first time I met him and it always made me laugh because LaBLee was more often than not all dressed up for/from work and he was always polite and cordial. But then his phone would ring and this badass gangsta anthem would play and totally knock down this facade. While I always recognized the "LaBLee" song whenever I heard it, I could NEVER, for the life of me, remember the actual name of the song, despite its popularity and it being a hit with everybody.
Then, of course, I wanted to play the song at the wedding party and dedicate it to my new brother in-law, and of course I couldn't remember the title of it as usual. However, I wanted it to happen, so I did some research. I scoured the dance floor for reliable sources and proceeded to shout my questions at them over the music.
"Dimps!"
"What?"
"What was the name of the song that was LaBLee's ringtone?"
"Oh my god I know it! Oh god, what is it called?"
"I don't remember!"
"Me neither, but I know it!"
"Ack! Uh, Yapper!" I called to another friend.
"Yeah!" he danced his way over.
"You know that song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
"'...til the sweat drips down my balls...!'"
"Yes! What's that song called?!"
"I can't remember!"
"Dammit!"
"Someone will know."
"I know. Kee!" I called to another friend.
"Yeah!"
"What's the name of the song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
"'...till the sweat drips down my balls, and all these bitches crawl...!'"
Then bystanders joined in, shouting,
"'...to all skeet skeet muthafuckas! All skeet skeet aw damn...!"
"Yes! What's the name of that song?!"
"I don't know!"
And so it continued. I think it was finally Señorita's brother that finally came through for me in the end and I managed to request and dedicate the song. And then it was played and the entire dance floor exploded. To the windows, to the wall, EVERYONE knew ALL the words and went nuts...and I bet none of us remembered the title afterwards either.
"Get Low" - and we did.
Then, of course, I wanted to play the song at the wedding party and dedicate it to my new brother in-law, and of course I couldn't remember the title of it as usual. However, I wanted it to happen, so I did some research. I scoured the dance floor for reliable sources and proceeded to shout my questions at them over the music.
"Dimps!"
"What?"
"What was the name of the song that was LaBLee's ringtone?"
"Oh my god I know it! Oh god, what is it called?"
"I don't remember!"
"Me neither, but I know it!"
"Ack! Uh, Yapper!" I called to another friend.
"Yeah!" he danced his way over.
"You know that song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
"'...til the sweat drips down my balls...!'"
"Yes! What's that song called?!"
"I can't remember!"
"Dammit!"
"Someone will know."
"I know. Kee!" I called to another friend.
"Yeah!"
"What's the name of the song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
"'...till the sweat drips down my balls, and all these bitches crawl...!'"
Then bystanders joined in, shouting,
"'...to all skeet skeet muthafuckas! All skeet skeet aw damn...!"
"Yes! What's the name of that song?!"
"I don't know!"
And so it continued. I think it was finally Señorita's brother that finally came through for me in the end and I managed to request and dedicate the song. And then it was played and the entire dance floor exploded. To the windows, to the wall, EVERYONE knew ALL the words and went nuts...and I bet none of us remembered the title afterwards either.
"Get Low" - and we did.
What we did wrong
"We spent all of that time worrying about what to do if BGoa showed up when we should have been working about Number1."
"You know how at family events, everyone has 'that uncle?'" Well, Number1 is ours."
...
This Number1 managed to have a few too many and then proceeded to do things to peeve other family members during the reception. He aggrandized himself to my in-laws, and then monopolized my photographer for his own, choice family photos--favourites only (funny, I wasn't in those ones...), only to then give the photographer a lecture about how he didn't know how to be a photographer, how he charged too much, and how Number1 could do a much better job himself.
To say the least, my photographer became one of those on the list that Number1 peeved that night. In a moment of heated venting of words, I waved Brodder over to the head table for damage control.
"DO something with him!" I hissed a whisper in Brodder's ear, motioning to Number1. And I guess he did, because I didn't hear about Number1 anymore that night.
I told this story two months later to my co-worker who had his wedding just two weeks after mine; we were laughing, sharing the unplanned-event notes from our wedding.
"So what happened to your uncle?"
"I don't know, but I know that my brother took care of it."
"Have you seen your uncle since your wedding?"
"Actually, no, I haven't."
"Maybe your brother 'took care' of it alright..."
"Maybe I should ask him what happened..."
"Maybe you should."
...
In case you're curious, Number1 appeared at Christmas dinner. :)
"You know how at family events, everyone has 'that uncle?'" Well, Number1 is ours."
...
This Number1 managed to have a few too many and then proceeded to do things to peeve other family members during the reception. He aggrandized himself to my in-laws, and then monopolized my photographer for his own, choice family photos--favourites only (funny, I wasn't in those ones...), only to then give the photographer a lecture about how he didn't know how to be a photographer, how he charged too much, and how Number1 could do a much better job himself.
To say the least, my photographer became one of those on the list that Number1 peeved that night. In a moment of heated venting of words, I waved Brodder over to the head table for damage control.
"DO something with him!" I hissed a whisper in Brodder's ear, motioning to Number1. And I guess he did, because I didn't hear about Number1 anymore that night.
I told this story two months later to my co-worker who had his wedding just two weeks after mine; we were laughing, sharing the unplanned-event notes from our wedding.
"So what happened to your uncle?"
"I don't know, but I know that my brother took care of it."
"Have you seen your uncle since your wedding?"
"Actually, no, I haven't."
"Maybe your brother 'took care' of it alright..."
"Maybe I should ask him what happened..."
"Maybe you should."
...
In case you're curious, Number1 appeared at Christmas dinner. :)
The origins of the onion
Our wedding day was filled with joyous tears. A lot of them. I think Malcolm started it. And I love him all the more of it. Anyway, to excuse the constant welling ups, Malcolm made the comment - multiple times - that someone in the building must have been cutting onions.
When it came time for our speech together to everyone, we were no exception to the tears. Just as the tears started up, I was distracted by a body sneaking through the crowd towards us. I realized it was TCHC just as he slunk up to the head table, but had no clue what he was up to. Nearly sidelining me from what I had to say, his purpose came to light a moment later.
He wordlessly placed an onion - what turned out later to be THE onion - on the podium and slunk away again with just a quick nod at Malcolm. Malcolm presented the onion to the audience.
"Here's the culprit!"
There was laughter and more love. And more tears, even though that onion remained whole the rest of the night.
When it came time for our speech together to everyone, we were no exception to the tears. Just as the tears started up, I was distracted by a body sneaking through the crowd towards us. I realized it was TCHC just as he slunk up to the head table, but had no clue what he was up to. Nearly sidelining me from what I had to say, his purpose came to light a moment later.
He wordlessly placed an onion - what turned out later to be THE onion - on the podium and slunk away again with just a quick nod at Malcolm. Malcolm presented the onion to the audience.
"Here's the culprit!"
There was laughter and more love. And more tears, even though that onion remained whole the rest of the night.
The walk out
The day was just running away. At the start of it, I'd decided I'd just relinquish all control and just let it all happen. I'd done all that I could leading up to this day, it was time to let the planning fall into place. I guess because of that, I'd managed to keep calm all day. My emotions were on an even-keel, despite the fact that I was counting down the mere hours and then minutes left to the most important moment of my life. Infrequent time-checks got my pulse pumping periodically, but without a constantly visible clock to tick the minutes away, I was okay. Even putting the dress on was still just "getting dressed" in my brain.
Was I just going to go through the motions of this "big day" like any other day?
Hair up, makeup done, dress on, I was ushered down the hall to the room that was to connect me to my path down the aisle. Alone with just Señorita, she arranged my train behind me--but I was still okay.
And then my dad entered the room and as the door closed behind him as he scooted in, I caught a glimpse of those outside waiting for the ceremony to start, and I thought I was still okay.
Suddenly, I was shaking. That was the moment it all hit me--I was about to get married. I heard "Cello Suite 1" start to play - Señorita's cue - and then the moment - my moment - was suddenly racing towards me in fast forward. And then it was my turn. We'd planned for a dramatic pause between Señorita's song and mine to put the audience into a state of suspense, and that plan was backfiring on me - I was cracking under the anticipation. When the song finally began - "Air on the G String" - I was glad to have dad's arm to hold on to.
...
Down the aisle
I recall walking down the aisle and trying to look at everyone as they looked at me; I think that was someone's advice to me, but I couldn't quite remember at that moment. It was amazing to me that everyone was there for me - it really was my day.
Close to the end of the aisle, I finally met Malcolm's eyes. Already there were tears running down his face. His tears weren't alone for long.
The formal words were a blur; I remember repeating after Alex, our officiant, I remember accidentally putting the ring on Malcolm a little too early, I remember he had to wipe away tears from both of our faces more than once. I remember that even with the words to hear and repeat, and even with all of those people watching, we managed to share private moments together in the moments before becoming husband and wife.
I remember just being so happy.
Was I just going to go through the motions of this "big day" like any other day?
Hair up, makeup done, dress on, I was ushered down the hall to the room that was to connect me to my path down the aisle. Alone with just Señorita, she arranged my train behind me--but I was still okay.
And then my dad entered the room and as the door closed behind him as he scooted in, I caught a glimpse of those outside waiting for the ceremony to start, and I thought I was still okay.
Suddenly, I was shaking. That was the moment it all hit me--I was about to get married. I heard "Cello Suite 1" start to play - Señorita's cue - and then the moment - my moment - was suddenly racing towards me in fast forward. And then it was my turn. We'd planned for a dramatic pause between Señorita's song and mine to put the audience into a state of suspense, and that plan was backfiring on me - I was cracking under the anticipation. When the song finally began - "Air on the G String" - I was glad to have dad's arm to hold on to.
...
Down the aisle
I recall walking down the aisle and trying to look at everyone as they looked at me; I think that was someone's advice to me, but I couldn't quite remember at that moment. It was amazing to me that everyone was there for me - it really was my day.
Close to the end of the aisle, I finally met Malcolm's eyes. Already there were tears running down his face. His tears weren't alone for long.
The formal words were a blur; I remember repeating after Alex, our officiant, I remember accidentally putting the ring on Malcolm a little too early, I remember he had to wipe away tears from both of our faces more than once. I remember that even with the words to hear and repeat, and even with all of those people watching, we managed to share private moments together in the moments before becoming husband and wife.
I remember just being so happy.
The WiFi
The data reception at the venue was spotty at best, but in the bridal suite, it was non-existent. However, I noticed there was WiFi available and so I asked someone to see if they could get the password so we could stream some music. Some time later, Brodder got an internet stick that he delegated Lingmon Guy to get working for us. Some time after that last update, Lingmon Guy entered the bridal suite with only his phone in hand.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't get the USB internet thing to work on your laptop."
"That's okay, no worries."
"In lieu of the ability to stream music, I shall serenade you."
"Aw, LMG, that's okay," I reassured him from my seat on the floor with my makeup artist, Charming. As he made his way past us into the corner of the room she commented,
"He's so funny."
A moment later, we heard LMG's voice.
"When I was young..."
"What?"
"...I never needed anyone..."
"What are you doing?"
"...and making love was just for fun..."
"Oh my,"
"...living alone, I think of all the friends I've known..."
"LMG, you don't have to do that,"
"...when I dial the telephone..."
"Is he singing?"
"...nobody's home..."
"Yes, yes he is."
"...All by myself...don't wanna be: all by myself. Anymore..."
Well, we can't say we didn't have music.
...
Unbeknownst to anyone, when mom packed up the bridal suite, she found the venue's USB internet stick and, thinking it belonged to one of us, she packed it up and we brought it home. It wasn't until we were packing to leave for Malaysia that I realized what had happened. I sent at text to my ever-reliable wedding coordinator:
Me - we stole their wifi
Brodder - Oops. It didn't work anyway.
True.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't get the USB internet thing to work on your laptop."
"That's okay, no worries."
"In lieu of the ability to stream music, I shall serenade you."
"Aw, LMG, that's okay," I reassured him from my seat on the floor with my makeup artist, Charming. As he made his way past us into the corner of the room she commented,
"He's so funny."
A moment later, we heard LMG's voice.
"When I was young..."
"What?"
"...I never needed anyone..."
"What are you doing?"
"...and making love was just for fun..."
"Oh my,"
"...living alone, I think of all the friends I've known..."
"LMG, you don't have to do that,"
"...when I dial the telephone..."
"Is he singing?"
"...nobody's home..."
"Yes, yes he is."
"...All by myself...don't wanna be: all by myself. Anymore..."
Well, we can't say we didn't have music.
...
Unbeknownst to anyone, when mom packed up the bridal suite, she found the venue's USB internet stick and, thinking it belonged to one of us, she packed it up and we brought it home. It wasn't until we were packing to leave for Malaysia that I realized what had happened. I sent at text to my ever-reliable wedding coordinator:
Me - we stole their wifi
Brodder - Oops. It didn't work anyway.
True.
What's in a name?
Both of the mothers were scheduled to arrive later that morning which left the bridal suite filled with just us young girls - the only married one was our makeup artist and she had only had her wedding a little over a month before mine.
Thank goodness the moms weren't there.
The topic of conversation was about what to do with your maiden name. Señorita and my makeup artist, Charming, were of Hispanic/Filipino tradition: their names consisted of both their mother's maiden name and their father's last name: Señorita Looking For Fun, and Charming Iss Living Talent.* Their tradition followed that at marriage, they would drop their mother's maiden name and adopt their husband's family name; Señorita would lose "For" and Charming would lose "Living."
*obviously these names are made up, but the initials are (pretty much) true for illustrative purposes.
However, while Charming and I both wanted to take our husbands' names, neither of us wanted to lose any of the ones we already had. After some excited discussion, the suggestion was made to just smash our maiden names into our already existing middle names and take our married names as our solitary last name. That made me Melody Amazing Choiceto Love, and Charming Iss Living Talent Sublime. The difference was that to do this, we'd require a legal name change versus just assuming his last name. And then came the comment from Charming:
"My name is going to be so long!"
"But it'll be worth it - you get to keep everything AND get a bad-ass last name to boot. Just get it legally changed."
"Yeah, you're right. And while I"m at it, I should just switch my second and third names so my initials will be 'CLITS.'"
I died.
...
I shared this story with Brodder and we had a laugh.
"That's like 'Coors Light Iced Tea,'" he pointed out.
"Oh my god, it is! Someone didn't think that one through."
"Or maybe they did. And it gets funnier the drunker you get - 'I'd like some more CLIT, please!'"
Oh gawd.
Thank goodness the moms weren't there.
The topic of conversation was about what to do with your maiden name. Señorita and my makeup artist, Charming, were of Hispanic/Filipino tradition: their names consisted of both their mother's maiden name and their father's last name: Señorita Looking For Fun, and Charming Iss Living Talent.* Their tradition followed that at marriage, they would drop their mother's maiden name and adopt their husband's family name; Señorita would lose "For" and Charming would lose "Living."
*obviously these names are made up, but the initials are (pretty much) true for illustrative purposes.
However, while Charming and I both wanted to take our husbands' names, neither of us wanted to lose any of the ones we already had. After some excited discussion, the suggestion was made to just smash our maiden names into our already existing middle names and take our married names as our solitary last name. That made me Melody Amazing Choiceto Love, and Charming Iss Living Talent Sublime. The difference was that to do this, we'd require a legal name change versus just assuming his last name. And then came the comment from Charming:
"My name is going to be so long!"
"But it'll be worth it - you get to keep everything AND get a bad-ass last name to boot. Just get it legally changed."
"Yeah, you're right. And while I"m at it, I should just switch my second and third names so my initials will be 'CLITS.'"
I died.
...
I shared this story with Brodder and we had a laugh.
"That's like 'Coors Light Iced Tea,'" he pointed out.
"Oh my god, it is! Someone didn't think that one through."
"Or maybe they did. And it gets funnier the drunker you get - 'I'd like some more CLIT, please!'"
Oh gawd.
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