rocket man

Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids

Last saturday, as I was walking to my sewing class at the cc, I noticed a few serious adults standing around a long table and on the table there was the sign, Humourous Speech Competition. After my class I popped in (People's Association 5th Humourous Speech Challenge!!!!). It was a small auditorium with a few people in the audience besides the judges and the other contestants. One auntie made a speech about Love, introducing it as the 4-letter word and swaying her hips as she started, 'You must be wondering what 4-letter word I am going to talk about.' She said she asked a little boy what love was and he said, 'Love is when your eyelashes move up and down and stars come out of...you!' (i think she wanted to say 'your mouth' because her hands were gesturing so but the words wouldn't come) and she said someone else said, 'Love is when a girl tells a boy I like your tie, and he wears it every day'

Love is when my grandmother makes sure I have food everytime I want to eat, and when she wakes up at any time of the night to apply her mosquito-bite-soothing wine concoction on me.

My record player is finally ready, I am just waiting for the day to collect it. The day after all these years! My oh my. It also happens to be red, the nice man in the shop randomly pointed at the only portable record player he had left (it sounds contradictory, but that's what it felt like). I wish I had some sort of special place for it in my room. Which is why I can't bear to collect it yet; it needs a special place in my room. Dreams of warm fuzzy crackling record-player songs. Ah Choo, if I go to your place this weekend I could bring it along; it's portable :-) I think the first record I will put on is Bob Dylan's Blood on the tracks, then rubber soul. This is super exciting. I've wanted one since secondary school and now that is is finally happening it feels warm and thrilling. I wonder if having a baby will be like that.

In a corner of my car, Elmo got lost and Bert lies on top of Zoe.

I had Filipino Martial Arts class (Kali Majapahit) tonight; it is awesome. We work with long wooden sticks, a wooden knife, boxing gloves, and empty-hand fighting and self-defence too. It's funny, all these rules that become real in a classroom when everyone puts on the uniform and holds their weapons, techniques and lessons passed down from decades ago, created by filipino villagers I think. We also did some qigong at the start of the class and grabbing energy and pushing and exhaling. I felt dizzy from breathing so well; apparently it takes more of such good breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Breathing is one of the most important and goodly magical but overlooked things. My grandmother breathes and snores very loudly at night then scratches her big stomach with her pink-painted nails and turns.

Lucy let me try a strange, wondrous, bitter (not in taste just in feeling) sweet today. Jujubes.