Mid-Life Excuses

As I’m pushing 35 with strands of grey hair mischievously sprouting all over my head (to paraphrase Friends’ Phoebe, “For every one you pull out, three will come to its funeral"), wrinkle lines burrowing their way into my face like deep trenches and my arms losing its gravity-defying power, I would usually engage in a few therapeutic measures by way of an euphoric spell of shopping either to update my wardrobe or my look. When all else fail, a trip to the hair salon for that quick fixer-upper and an ego boost from my indefatigable hairstylist should do the trick. Alas, these measures will remain at best transient and at worst ineffectual in the long run.

With the spectre of my youth slowly and surely fades away, it is very easy to blame it squarely on the overused, mythical creature called ‘mid-life crisis’. Just imagine how simple it would be to just exonerate yourself from any wrongful conduct by pinpointing it to these elusive words: mid-life crisis. Short of getting away with murder, you can use it for everything under the sun ranging from that awful hairdye colour you chose last year, that zig-zagged neon top that was the rage last summer to that shortlived obsession with a boyband called A1 (or was it Plus1 or Hi-5 - the right number combination is lost on me).

However, as this article succinctly pointed out, only a rare percentage of middle-aged people ACTUALLY suffer from it. Others are just a bunch of narcissistic jerks whose disillusionment of the world compel them to make lame excuses for their lapses in good judgment.

As Dr. Richard A. Friedman puts it, a married man's 'search for novelty and thrill' in the arms of another woman should never be the easy cop-out for what we define a mid-life crisis:

...This was a garden-variety case of a middle-aged narcissist grappling with the biggest insult he had ever faced: getting older.

Although the topic centers on men and their so-called mid-life crisis, I believe in this day and age it applies to a sampling of loutish females as well. The ‘quick fixes’ that men indulge themselves in to gratify their surplus of libido and to reaffirm their attractiveness demonstrate ever so loudly the self-centered view of their respective universe.

Another glaring yet interesting example where this selfish attribute rears its ugly head is when a baby - a new addition to the family - comes to the picture. Instead of embracing fatherhood and the joys attached to it, a man sees the responsibility as weighing him down and making him feel redundant. Unlike a mid-life crisis, age doesn't figure largely into this classic 'the other woman' problem. Like in the case of a 49-year-old successful man who, five years into the matrimony, has an affair with a colleague after a baby took centerstage of his married life:

Being middle-aged had nothing to do with his predicament; it was just that it took him 49 years to reach a situation where he had to seriously take account of someone else's needs, namely those of his baby son. In all likelihood, the same thing would have happened if he had become a father at 25.

Obviously, age is not a great indicator of one's maturity in handling new challenges head-on. In a typical Malaysian society, there are many instances when the husband started to look elsewhere when he feels alienated following a newborn's arrival. He couldn't stand it that a baby's needs come first and foremost to his constantly exhausted wife. Rather than helping out with the chores, he prefers to find escapism through the lifestyle of a single man.

Granted, genuine albeit rare cases do exist for a true version of mid-life crisis, which the author states "supposedly strikes when most of us have finally figured ourselves out — only to discover that we have lost our youth and mortality is on the horizon."

In 1999, the MacArthur Foundation study on midlife development surveyed 8,000 Americans ages 25 to 74. While everyone recognized the term "midlife crisis," only 23 percent of subjects reported having one. And only 8 percent viewed their crisis as something tied to the realization that they were aging; the remaining 15 percent felt the crisis resulted from specific life events. Strikingly, most people also reported an increased sense of well-being and contentment in middle age.

If the statistics hold true for the last nine years and apply across cultural boundaries, most middle-aged people are in fact happy and satisfied to be where they are today. And here we are thinking that every Tom, Dick and Harry feel miserable with his lot in life and decide to put on a pair of leatherpants to 'feel' young.

Of course, looking young is de rigueur and much sought after in today's fast-moving society, and vain people like me, is susceptible to its commercial calling. Yet, at the end of the day, these external embellishments do not maketh a person; time-honoured wisdom do.

Time to unclutter the closet!

Zhilling Out at Zang Toi's

For the past two Sundays, we found ourselves strolling the ample floors of Pavilion in Jalan Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur. Due to its friendly distance from our home and serving as a nice departure from the usual haunts of GE Mall, Ampang Point and KLCC, we are more than happy to soak in the sights and sounds that this urban space has to offer.

This outing also marked the second time we sat down in Zang Toi Fashion Cafe. The first one was also a week ago when we decided, on spur of the moment, to go to Pavilion.

Technically this is not OUR virgin trip to Zang Toi Cafe. A first for Sadia but not for US - as in the couple. It'd be a first for this particular branch, yes, but we have tasted Zang Toi's delicacies when the fashion cum cafe opened its doors (and only store) in Malaysia 10 years ago. At Bukit Bintang Plaza to be exact. (For the uninitiated, Zang Toi is a US-based Chinese-Malaysian designer. More here.)

It was one of our dating grounds, so to speak, as there were not many 'niche' places to hang out back then. Sad but true. So it was sort of a trip down memory when we relished the deliciously sublime chocolate banana cake, served with vanilla ice-cream which was drizzled generously with chocolate sauce.

For a generous portion of RM8.50 a plate, it was considerably cheaper than the desserts on offering at run-out-the-mill coffee chain outlets. One plate was enough for two! :) (Or three in this case)

Luckily the mega blasters, which spoiled our experience the first time around, were removed from Parkson departmental store (where the cafe is located). The loud CNY music blaring from its large speakers are at variance with the flagship's opulent character and lush ambience.

Please immerse yourself in Zang Toi's signature chocolate banana cake! Having retained its to-die-for taste for ten years assures us of their dedication to excellent food and service.

Diggin' In Into Delirious Decadence

Fudgy Chocolatey Heaven

Food for Tote

Is it me or has it become widely acceptable nowadays in Malaysia for men to carry women's handbag? Somehow, that didn't come out right. Let me try that again.

Has it become a social norm for Malaysian men to carry their female partner's handbag in broad daylight? Be it floral, chainlink, tote bag, sling bag, hobo, frilly, satchel-like, graphic design, branded or non-branded, I've seen men - especially the Malay variety of the age between late teens and mid-20s - happily and willingly hang on to these babies without a second thought about how silly they look.

Since coming back to Malaysia late last year, I'd noticed this alarming trend everywhere - crossing the road, traipsing the mall, coming out of the cinema, and even while dining at a mamak restaurant. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating over the last one but I bet it DOES happen in this lifetime. Probably the guy would carry the handbag when he lines up to pay the Mamak cashier.

Perhaps I wasn't too observant when I was pregnant or immediately thereafter as I was preoccupied with babycare, but I honestly think my astute hubby would have gleefully pointed it out to me if such a trend had indeed picked up back then.

Needless to say, it took me by surprise that manly men gladly carry their women's handbags in the Klang Valley. What gives? Are we going through a sexual revolution in this country that I don't know of?

And before you think I'm blowing something out of proportion, you should exercise your power of observation whenever you step into a mall, drive your car slowly over a busy pedestrian crossing or any place that is full of hormonally-charged adolescents. Follow these familiar trails and I swear you won't be disappointed. Lookie there, a man carrying a handbag!

And this is not just a straitlaced (pun intended) handbag - it exudes femininity by way of floral design, froufrou and other decorative items. So why on earth would a man sling one on his muscular shoulder? My husband won't be caught dead carrying a girly bag, unless of course I cry buckets. (Women and their tears as a secret weapon! :) )

Many theories abound, I'm sure, ranging from that the man is a cross-dresser by night to that of the girl is actually (pardon my French) a fag hag.

But seriously, what possessed these straight men to volunteer a womanly task?

Here's my take on it: by shouldering their female partner's bag, they are signalling to (interested) onlookers that this girl is mine, so hands off! Put it another way, they are showing commitment - either lasting or fleeting - to the relationship by becoming the selfless guardian of the ubiquitious bag.

Gender identity in Malaysia has certainly undergone tremendous changes in a span of one year! Granted, it has been gradually evolving under the radar before turning into a cultural phenomenon such as this one. The younger male generation seem to have no qualms lugging around their honeybunnies' bag, no matter how bad its colour or design clashes with his whole outfit. Anything for love (or is it lust?) or as the faddish saying goes "I heart you!" :P

I also wonder whether other countries experience any form of gender revival of their own - outside of the gay community that is. Have you heard of any? Pray tell. I didn't encounter any in The Netherlands, save for seeing a middle-aged man in tight racing bicycle outerwear. :)

In contrast, I find it ironic that while we're in Malaysia are making headway (and head turns) where handbag-toting is concerned, most Malaysians are still unreceptive to the idea that straight men, with the exception of professionally-trained, can cook very well! I attribute this skewed perception to the number of 'flamboyant' celebrity male chefs who grace our television programmes. Their splashy presence inadvertently perpetuates the idea that cooking is an emasculating trait. This stereotype is made worse by the prevailing Asian culture which asserts that a kitchen is exclusively a woman's domain.

Before people label me as a homophobic, let me qualify that I have nothing against these chefs and their usual antics and eccentricities. I'm sure they are great in their own right, however grating some of their 'gimmicks' can be. It is just I'd like to see a balance representation of all sort of Malaysian chefs and not just the flashy type. True, there exist 'non-flamboyant' male chefs in various sections of the F&B industry as can be readily seen on the telly assisting diva pseudo-chefs in their half-hearted attempts at cooking. Yet, their kind do not always make the cut to land either a lucrative book deal or a television show.

So why can't we have the likes of Jamie Oliver, Anthony Bourdain or, if boorish is your fancy, Gordon Ramsay on our tv? Is effeminacy an important prerequisite to a successful career for Malaysia-based celebrity chefs? As long as our generation equates males who enjoy cooking to that of sissiess, advancement in gender identity in other aspects of Malaysian life is nothing to crow about.

For the time being though, have fun sighting this new species, Man-Carrying-Girlfriend's-Handbag-Gausaurus!

Comics taken from here

You can call me Saj'a

It has been awhile since I last did a Sadia-centric post. With her second birthday coming in a month's time, it seems more than apropos to record her developmental milestones and other funny observations.

So without further ado, here are some nuggets of information:

• Nowadays, she weighs a little over nine (9) kgs which is considered quite light for certain quarters but not so to her harried mom-carrier. And as long as her pediatrician OK-ed her weight with respect to her small frame, that's fine with me. While small weight gain is normal for toddlers in general since their growth momentum plateaus at this stage, Sadia's little size has to do more with her fussy eating habits.


• As the habitual grazer, her current favourite foods are keropok ikan (Kopok), Nestum (Wheat and Honey variety) (Poweege), love letters, and cheese slices.


• Besides food, Sadia also exerts her independence through clothes, or, in her case, the lack thereof. Apart from her diaper pants, she rarely wears any at home because of the heat. The feat of putting her top on always get our knickers in a twist. She would take it upon herself to choose her own top and bottom if the ones we picked are not to her liking. My kid, the fashion coordinator!


• She is also a habitué of Kizsports & Gym in GE Mall, with sporadic visits to their branches in OneUtama and Bangsar Shopping Centre. She loves to play and interact with other kids in this indoor environment, with her parents tagging along and breaking out in sweats as spillover exercise for the day.


• Before being misconstrued as a snob, she also craves for the regular outdoor playgrounds like the sprawling one in KLCC. Slides and swings win hands down.


• As previously mentioned in another post, she loves swimming in the pool and in the bathtub, both a luxury we look forward to during vacations. :) Attempting to get her out of the pool is next to impossible!


• She is also interested in animals as evidenced by the frequent, enthusiastic visits to the pet store in GE Mall and MidValley. Except for ants and cicaks (geckos), the ones topping her list, in ascending order, are hamsters, rabbits, turtles, fishes, dogs and cats. We hope to get a cat once we move house, God willing.


• She refers to herself as Saj'a, when looking at her photos in any conceivable medium, be it on the Digital camera itself, old-fashioned prints or phone-camera stills.


• Once Sadia and I were in the toy section of Robinsons (The Gardens) playing with the lego on the kiddies table and a bunch of slightly older kids came scampering towards her direction. She became excited by their exuberance that when they ran away from her area, she cried out Guys! Guys! Guys! running towards them, much to my amusement. This line must be something she had copied from...


• her all-time favourite movie, Happy Feet, which is being played ad nauseum at home, and a slew of other PlayHouseDisney's gems like Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (Oh Toooodddlllleeesss!!), Little Einsteins (Pat! Pat! Pat! Blast Off!), Barney (Big Kug!) and recent addition, Bob The Builder (Yes We Can!).


• Speaking of Barney, she loves the final 'I Love You' song and proceed to hug (kug) and kiss us on cue whenever the words 'Hug' and 'Kiss' are sung.


• Sesame Street is another educational tool that she loves to watch, with characters such as Elmo, Big Bird, Ernie, Bert and The Count from whom she learnt the concept of counting. While she is still a novice at counting - random and unordered at times, her 'purchase' of Numberjacks, a favourite BBC show while in Holland, should assist in further comprehension. Funnily enough, she was the one who found the VCD in MPH and showed it to us.


• With respect to shapes, she knows of tungle (triangle), hart (heart) and tah (star).


• As for Happy Feet, we tried varying her animated flicks with other offerings but to no avail. She's even scared of the mouse in Ratatouille. I put the blame squarely on its mostly adult theme and composition. Hehe.


• She likes to sing her favourite song from Happy Feet - the one where all the penguin chicks singing together in class while Mumble gazes skyward - and the evergreen nursery rhymes, the obvious of which are Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star (Littel Tah!) and Old MacDonald (Eee Eye Eee Eye Owh!).


• As for toys, she still prefers soft toys and anything of that ilk. The more popular hits are Baby, her babydoll and Woof-Woof, a Light-Brown Dog we got from H&M.


• Other than that, she is more inclined to play with ordinary objects found in the house, such as her Yayah's shoehorns, empty shoeboxes and (plastic) hangars. She even relishes our jumping rope as a way to emulate Pocoyo and Elly (she much prefers the pink elephant than Pocoyo!) playing the same.


• Another perennial favourite game ever since our stay in Delft is going inside Yayah's kain pelekat while Yayah is in it, either going choo-choo-train or playing peekaboo all over the house.


• If Yayah is either not available or tired out, she would go under my telekung after I finished my prayer for the same bit of fun. I don't mind much though because I had in turn taught her to salam me after solat.


• Speech-wise, she has yet to master the art of putting a sentence together, unlike her four-month-older cousin, Zahra the eloquent speaker. Rather, Sadia would use one-word, ranging from one to two-syllables, to communicate what she wants and wants done. For example, Froot refers to the canned fruit, Nanas is for bananas, De Bon is for balloon, Tubbies for Teletubbies, Mouse for Mickey Mouse or any type of mice, Ukis for Lukis (Drawing) and Kakak for any friendly-looking Malay-esque ladies.


• The other day she surprised me again by saying Mine as she took back her stuff from my hands. Other words like Gone, Pull, Sorry and Boring follow. Hmm, must be PlayHouseDisney the culprit again!


• Before resorting to crying, she would say Bye, Bye to the people whom she doesn't want talking with or touching her. This also applies to food that she refuses to eat. Bye, Bye is interchangeable with No, No, No which earns her the name Ms NoNo back in Kuching.


• She'd call on either of us excitedly whenever she sees a rat-on-wings, err, I mean, pigeon perching on the balcony overlooking the living room, saying Kuawk, kuawk! (Squawk, Squawk - for all intents and purposes, any type of birds is called Squawk, Squawk - not One Squawk but Two in succession)


• Every night before bedtime, she'd have this routine of drinking OJ, Ba (or Milk in adult talk), with the occasional tidbits.


• Oh yeah, whenever my husband and I have a heated discussion, she'd interject by saying Pease, Pease, Pease! (Please, Please, Please!) as a sign for us to stop whatever the heck we're doing. She must be sensing the tension in the air. My kid, the diplomatic mediator. :)


• Sometimes, before we doze off, she'd make sure all of us are lying down by saying 'Bing, Bing' (Baring, Baring) and thereon 'kiss' us by giving us her forehead to be kissed.

Whew, that's a long one! There might STILL be some more pivotal steps that I'd missed out. If something else comes to mind, I'll prepare a new one. *wink!* I leave you now with a video of Sadia walking on the grounds of Delft's plaza, dating somewhere around March to April 2007. That is, tottering away before she got scared by the flock of pigeons. (Originally, I wanted to put a vid of her singing as well but YouTube is not cooperating)

Regrets, Do You Have Any?

A close girlfriend recently disclosed that she had broken up with her boyfriend of two years *. Couples go their separate ways all the time but what sets her case apart from the rest is the gravity of the situation.

She had quitted her job to be with him in the country where he had grown up. They had even met her parents during the previous year's Christmas, which as far as foregone conclusions go, indicates their commitment and love for one another. What went wrong, you'd ask?

Somehow she discovered while she was staying in his country that he is gay. Flummoxed? I am not privy to the nitty-gritty of how and what transpired for her to arrive at this juncture but what I know is that she's back in her country, nursing a mangled heart without any money or job. My dearest friend, my every being goes out to you.

Like her, the overanalytical me would start examining what went wrong. At which particular crossroad did the relationship swerve from its right (or if you must, straight) course? What if she finds out earlier? Would her career be salvaged and her peace of mind healed much quicker? Surely, if she has made the 'right' move, she'd be much happier. Or would she?

I sense the crux of the matter lies in coming to terms with the choices that one will later revisit in the future. Would I be much better off now if I didn't face this problem? Essentially, would a different fork in the road earn a higher happiness quotient?

With a new year on my mind, the theme on past choices and the underlying regrets resurfaced when I came upon this incisive article of similar topic. At a glance, it may look that the author is regurgitating facts that are as commonplace as the little black dress. However, upon close inspection, he proffered a more complete picture to this excess baggage problem, specifically as to why it affects and weighs down some people more than others. This fixation on 'lost possible selves' arises from our varied personality types and how we go about controlling the lingering wisp of regrets.

...Yet it is partly from studies of lost possible selves that psychologists have come to a more complete understanding of how regret molds personality. These studies, in people recently divorced and those caring for a sick child, among others, suggest that it is possible to entertain idealized versions of oneself without being mocked or shamed. And they suggest that doing so may serve an important psychological purpose.

The research also concludes that age is another crucial, determining factor which colours one's perception of life choices.

With age, people apparently detoxified their regrets by reframing them as shared misunderstandings, a retrospective touching-up that in many cases might have been more accurate.

Putting it differently, the ability to rein in one's emotions over previous choices - called 'complexity' - generally corresponds well with aging.

Complexity reflects an ability to incorporate various points of view into a recollection, to vividly describe the circumstances, context and other dimensions. It is the sort of trait that would probably get you killed instantly in a firefight; but in the mental war of attrition through middle age and after, its value only increases.

It echoes our level of maturity in the way of revealing, albeit through a painful process of 'elimination', what really works to make us a better and happier person. Lessons well-learnt, a silver lining's up there, the relapsing optimist in me believe.

Like any other, I have my share of regrets for the choices I had made in the past. Would I be better off working in the XXX? Why didn't I take that offer? Why didn't I tell her off? Yet, when I reexamined this so-called bad choice further, I realise that I'd not be where I am today if it were not for that supposed misstep. For all I know, even the slightest move from that chosen path would have grave consequences!

In Islam, we believe in the concept of qada' and qadar (predestination), which encompasses, among others, that only God has the exclusive knowledge of our respective 'final' destiny, our deeds work towards changing our ever dynamic destiny and that our supplication helps in averting disaster. Therefore, for us to reap the rewards of an eternal happiness with Him, we must remember Allah for all seasons. "... it must also be realised that Allah is not to be visited only when in need, just like a person who uses a toilet (in an emergency). If you remember Allah, Allah will always remember you."

In a broader sense, as long as we strive to do better and improve ourselves, we won't have time to toy with the ideas of second chances, the existence of parallel universe or worse, doppelgänger. We are too busy having a life and being grateful for what we have.

As for my friend, I may have been dumbstruck when you dropped the news on me. Despite wanting to spare you the cliches that you loathe to hear, I'll take the risk anyway and quote a corny line: It's no use crying over spilled milk. When left unattended, in a few days, the milk will emit the foulest of smells. So, instead of letting the odour permeate your space, why don't you wipe the surface clean and buy a new bottle/carton of milk?

Take great care my kindred spirit.

* About three years if you count the not-so-serious phase.

Tentative New Year Resolutions

Yippee-yay-yay! A New Year is here! How time flies.....

It's half past one in the morning and sleep eludes me. Must be that Vanilla Latte from GE Mall that I'd gulped down.

Not a firm believer in resolutions myself, I decided for the fun of it, to fiddle with a list this year. This, by the way, is by no means exhaustive. :)

1. Less surfing


2. More reading


3. Less carbs


4. More cardio-exercise


5. Less shopping


6. More spiritual outlets


7. Less internet


8. More family moments


9. Less clingy


10. More 'Me' time


11. Less clutter


12. More space


13. Less self-deprecating


14. More self-reflection


15. Less Caffeine!


16. More Water

For great helpful pointers this new year to married (or not-so-married) couples, please click here.

Nighty-nite!