EmmaGoodEgg

Dressed To A (Mr) T

As a little girl I liked going on adventures in the big drain behind our house. Although I couldn't understand Barbie dolls, I thought paper dolls, the ones where you have to cut out the dresses/skirts and hairdos and stick them on the doll, were a swell idea. I get to use scissors and play fashion stylist. What better combination of skills for a tomboy. These days we even have paper dolls in interactive versions. Barbie dolls (and the like) are no longer the model of choice. Nowadays even The Sandman's Death stylo-mylo makes for a cool goth look:

* Click here to play.

Thanks to Fleur, I found out that some of course, go a step further:

* Click here to see less of Mr T's shiny head...

While we're on the subject of Mr T, find out what what name Mr T will call you using this Name Generator for turning him into a FOOOL.

I quite liked mine.

Pictures From The Car

It was the Sunday before Hari Raya and the thought of braving the masses on that lovely day just to buy coloured light bulbs and fizzy drinks was not terribly appealing, so Bobby and I took a drive down to Kuala Belait. My parents met and wed in Kuala Belait, and it is the town of my birth. Having lived there in my childhood and then a few years in my teens, I have an affinity to Brunei's second largest district. There is a sense of orderliness on its streets that make the Belait district a pleasant change from the crowded streets of Bandar Seri Begawan (some, but not all, of the credit goes to the most heavily lined and signed street in Brunei at the BSP area).

The drive up with a loved one to the 'land of black gold' was a pleasant way to while away the time before breaking fast. We didn't even need to get out of the car.

Tutong to Telisai on the four, and then two, lanes.

On Telisai Bridge, to the left the Telisai Mosque.

The ancient towering trees of Belait.

First stop, the Naafi. But it was shut, darn.

We visited the BSRC riding section and saw some horses.

Left: The bijou roundabout with the funky scuplture at the end of Jalan Utara, next to Istana Kota Menggalela. Right: And the water tower in KB proper.

The Suri Seri Begawan Hospital in KB Town is the second largest hospital in Brunei Darussalam. It was opened in 1972.

I spent a year in the kindergarten at St John's School.

For someone living in Bandar, many things seem novel in Belait Town.

Left: The Riviera Cafe with great views of the Belait River. Right: WyWy Restaurant off Jalan Pandan 5.

On the way home, it was nice to see Sungai Liang becoming developed.

But while development is a good thing, unfortunately sometimes we tend to favour the new and forget the old. The Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah Mosque in Tutong, with its copper dome, would be pretty with a little shine.

Speed Woes

No, not woes that involve speed demons on the road, especially during the festive season. Nothing to do with demon pills that make you clean the house in frenzy. But the kind that streams the World Wide Web into the laptop and thereupon, into my world. The woes I had were debilitating. I was surprised at how debilitating they were.

First there was intermittent speed. Then it became slow like old people making love. Finally on the second day of Syawal, it went kaput. I began to feel as if my hands were mere stubs and that the World Wide Web is something that I would rather not live without.

By the way, lest you think I am overacting, I came to this realisation during a Hari Raya visit to my dear friend Tina's 'open house', during which I sneaked into the kitchen and told Rayyan, son of Tina, who was happily playing a game online on a laptop in the kitchen (his parents had just installed espeed at home that very day) to let "Auntie Emma use the laptop please" and literally lifted him off the kitchen stool. Desperation is not my strongest suit.

On Wednesday, in a right tizzy I called TelBru to complain via 113 (press '2' for English, press '1' for Fault & Inquiry, and finally, press '2' for Internet Woes). The first lady that picked up and registered my complaint sounded like she was not in the mood for any work. I don't blame her, it is Hari Raya and at least she IS at work. I was told that my woes would be forwarded to the 'technicians' who will then contact me. Thursday came and still no speed. Nada. Zilch. Again I punched in those numbers to find out what kind of timeline are we looking at here. The next lady who took my call was helpful and asked me to check the modem lights. She contacted the technicians to find out when they could deal with me and I was then told it would be "tomorrow"..."barangkali (maybe)". I waited with bated breath. It helped that I got my fix at Tina's.

Friday came and the technicians called at 9am and I was impressed. According to people at home, they came and FIXED it. But then I came home for lunch to check and it was not to be. A telephone call to TelBru again after lunch and this time a guy entertained me. I pleaded in my most charming dulcet tones and he said he will contact the technicians again and will let me know what is going on. He didn't, so after work I went home and called TelBru again, going through the same motion of pressing 113, 2, 1 and 2, and spoke to two ladies, in a tone of voice that was no longer dulcet, nor charming, that I wanted my speed fixed. And NOW.

A few minutes later, I was a most happy bunny back on my playing field.

Did I need to be less than charming to get results? I hope not. I hope that it wasn't my stern voice that did the job. And that it was a matter of technical timing after a 'reset' that led to the fixing of my woes mere minutes after I spoke louder than I am accustomed to. Perhaps most of the employees were on festive leave and the rest were spread too thin. One plus point was that those that took my call were polite, even though perhaps I was less than. There is no excuse for bad manners, and for this lapse, I apologise.

It is strange how dependent I have become on the Internet. I could not access emails, read the papers, read the blogs I frequent, look up a word on Dictionary.com, Google everything and anything. Like I said, my hands felt like useless stubs. 'Surfing' is no longer something I do in my spare time. It has its own useful place in my 24 hours. Maybe I should be less dependent and go back to old-fashioned ways but what the hell, it's good to be back.

[Photo credited to Wilfrid Laurier University]

A Time For Forgiveness. Yes Yes.

The neighbours kids have been particularly cheeky this Ramadhan. We kept our powder dry throughout Puasa, tonight we unleashed our first arsenal...

..that sparkled the neighbourhood with Aidilfitri showers, and we heard whoops of joy from next door.

Selamat Hari Raya you little terrors.

A Time For Forgiveness

The Air Waves

For the variety it provided, I mourned the demise of Capital FM. But in the same vein I was glad that our local radio stations got a chance to be heard. Perhaps I resisted at first, but I like turning on the radio listening to real time chatter. So Tini became a voice I listened to in the mornings, as did Hum, Jenny, KC and the other radio DJs during other times of the day.

Kristal FM DJ Idol is on again this year. There's nothing like being able to vote for your favourite DJ made to sing for the sake of publicity that make a country feel like your own.

I first heard of Kristal DJ Idol when I met DJ Jenny as she was nervously choosing a song for the purpose of wooing her listeners. A couple of days ago, singing Kristal DJs were on air and I managed to listen to Jenny, Hum and Honey. It sounded like a bit of fun, so I went online in search of downloadable mp3s of all the contestants and found it here

And so, ladies and Gentleman, for Kristal DJ Idol 2006, may I present your "judges", Emma Abdul and Bobby Cowell! [Don't take it too seriously they're not real people]

DJ Anna

Emma Abdul - An 'A' for effort (and for the backing singers) but don't quit your day job girl. Straight up. I'm one to talk.
Bobby Cowell - No no no.

Dj Azrul

Emma Abdul - Good voice, slightly out of tune. Didn't like the choice of song.
Bobby Cowell - Wedding karaoke.

DJ Dafy

Emma Abdul - I love your emo.
Bobby Cowell - Lovesick sparrow yearning for the end.

DJ Dean

Emma Abdul - Who would've thought DJ Dean has a deep sexy singing voice??
Bobby Cowell - I like his baritone but can he perform?

DJ Honey

Emma Abdul - Clever use of contemporary song, sang sweetly, but lacklustre.
Bobby Cowell - Nice effects, where's the passion?

DJ Hum

Emma Abdul - Cute and tender, sung in a 'Boy London' way.
Bobby Cowell - Tentative.

DJ Izan

Emma Abdul - Lovely voice, but the song makes me sleepy.
Bobby Cowell - Not a great choice of song.

DJ Izzat

Emma Abdul - The song makes me think of drainpipes and dark dark glasses ala S Jibeng.
Bobby Cowell - Strange. Mysterious.

DJ Jenny

Emma Abdul - An event planner, a Master of Ceremonies, an entrepreneur, a DJ, a writer, and Dj Jenny can SING as well. So add overachiever to her list.
Bobby Cowell - Kiasu eh.

DJ KC

Emma Abdul - I like Wild World man, so good job.
Bobby Cowell - RBC used to have these singing waiters and waitresses at the Poolside.

DJ Keejah

Emma Abdul - Good choice of song, suits the vocals. Nicely done.
Bobby Cowell - I liked it.

DJ Tina

Emma Abdul - Tina listen to me, quit your day job. Somebody please give this woman a gig. Loved this one.
Bobby Cowell - I was never that fond of Bonnie Tyler.

DJ Tini

Emma Abdul - Good job Tini! Stayed true to your self.
Bobby Cowell - The band was good.

DJ Yante

Emma Abdul - You can't go wrong with a Sheila Majid song.
Bobby Cowell - Um, pretty good.

DJ Zuren

Emma Abdul - Pretty voice, but perhaps not such a yawn-inducing song next year.
Bobby Cowell - She's phoning it in.

Now WHO will be crowned Idol?

Emma Abdul - I was pleasantly surpised to hear very good talent on our air waves, and a round of applause for the contestants, I'm sure its not easy to sing (or play songs) on the radio and be judged. But someone's gotta do it.
Bobby Cowell - No one likes me. I don't care.

First Foray

So I went to my first proper yoga class yesterday. I now know how to execute a downward-facing dog and during which was I giggling? No. Did I find out that yoga is tough but strangely calming? You bet.

I drove to the studios of Body Active at the always-busy Delima Square, full of intent and purpose, armed with a yoga mat. I did some lunges at home so I was feeling pretty limber. With a spring in my step from the ol' trusty Nikes, I entered Nora's yoga class for beginners. I don't know whether it was the afternoon sun peeking through the windows and bouncing off the wooden floors of the studio combined with ethereal yoga music, but it sure was surreal. It reminded me of the best corner in a library, and that is a compliment. My classmates came sorted with their yoga mats, yoga wear and a No-Shoes policy. The sneakers I had on suddenly felt constricted so I liberated my feet from wearing shoes the whole day and the journey to relaxation starts.

Teacher Nora taught us the very basics of yoga: like how to breathe properly during asanas (poses), how to sit in a lotus position and touch the tip of the thumb to the tip of the pointy finger (as if you are doing an OK sign) and place your hands face up on your knees, simple effective stretches, Amazon Warrior moves (I swear) and my favourite downward-facing dog, a few rolls and sun salutations. Another favourite of mine is the lying-still-on-your-back-hands-on-your-side-palms-up and & "let your eyeballs feel like they are dropping into the back of your head", excellently described by the teacher thus excellently executed by me. All throughout the class, Nora teaches in a gentle, unobtrusive way.

Bobby says that yoga is best experienced in private and I quite agree with that. In an ideal yoga world, I imagine doing a sun salutation butt-naked on top of a high cliff overlooking the ocean whilst watching the sunrise. But I don't live in an ideal world, yoga-related or otherwise. Therefore, having a teacher that gently and effectively imparts the wisdom of her teachings, in a surrounding that soothes, is good enough for me. I felt a sense of peace during yesterday's class, as opposed to say, if I were in a taebo or hi and low aerobics class, where the music remixes alone could make me swear off exercise. But that's just me. One of my aunties is an aerobics freak and has been doing it for years and years. She has close aerobic buddies; they even go on shopping trips together. Each to his/her own I guess.

Am I a yoga convert? The jury is still out on that one. The plan was to learn a few basics of yoga and then go on a holiday disguised as a yoga retreat, but I must say I enjoyed my first foray. I enjoyed it for the simplest reasons: like learning how to BREATHE properly, that the yoga studio had the peaceful ambience of a library, and that our yoga teacher is wholesome and not some emaciated person who looks as if he/she eat lentils all day. But the next beginners class is not until the 1st of November, and that means I may have to ask Bobby to teach me some yoga moves in between then. Now, this has its pros and cons of course:

Cons - The husband seeing me ungainly.
Pros - Me seeing the husband with very little clothes on.

Namaste. Eseh man.

Emma The Yoga Bhani

I am blessed to have friends that come up with the best (and strangest) ways to have fun. Diva D and I was sitting around watching Step Up one Saturday afternoon when she sits up and says, "Oh! Let's go sign up for a yoga package!" And from my horizontal position on the couch I responded with a slouchy Getouttahere.

You see, I am not limber. Especially if there's nothing in it for me.

Being a person who has not been able to touch her toes without a great deal of stretch since, oh most probably her toddler days, I suffer from what I call exercise anxiety. Which loosely translated means, I would LIKE to exercise but I a) am busy b) am lazy c) would rather sleep. So of course I thought of Diva D's idea with some trepidation. Until I heard the good part. The part where she tells me Melee (a friend of ours) knows a yoga teacher called Vincent Tam. And that Vincent the Yogi is organising a yoga holiday package at The Chedi in Chiang Mai. The Chedi! Chiang Mai! I wonder if I could nicely ask the Concierge whether he could ask Vincent to move the 7am lessons to say, 10? Before I knew what hit me, completely agreeable to the thought of a swell girlie holiday, filled with bedtime gossip, pareos, massage oils and trashy novels, the Markets, the quirky places to eat, I yelled, "Let's GO!"

But yes, there is that bit about the yoga sessions in between the free laundry, cocktails, transfers, spa-ing, visiting the sites in Chiang Mai that I have to worry about. And I have 18 days to learn some yoga basics before Vincent makes me wear the Dunce hat in class because I giggle when he poses and says downward facing nn-doooog.

In a slight panic, I paid Danura a visit at Danurasana because she's done a swell job at making yoga a trendy way to stay healthy in Brunei, and then all yoga-ed up, I checked out the class schedules at Body Active. Last Saturday, fueled by the desire to not be a yoga fool, I went around the Nike section at the top floor of Hua Ho Yayasan, bought a pair of yoga pants (grey, v comfy, v good) and recoiled in horror at the price tag of a Nike yoga mat. B$75 for a rubber mat? You got to be joking.

Anyway, Bobby does yoga. Bobby subscribes to the motto of wearing the least possible when yoga-ing, and cannot fathom pricey yoga-inspired Christy Turlington-does-Puma Nuala shoes. That's why Bobby refuses to go to class. Bobby uses a B$25 yoga mat he bought at GL Extra (a store which sells mostly camping gear and Navy Seals Wannabe gadgets), so after Yayasan I headed over to Kiulap to get a green one, in case I decide to be Jungle Jane one of these days.

Happy with my cheap new yoga mat, I contemplated on going to a yoga class while testing out my yoga pants, but they were much too comfortable on a lazy Saturday afternoon that I slouched about at home. But Wednesday is a Brand New Day and I shall bring the yoga mat for a test drive at the 4.30pm Beginner's Class. And then after all that stretching, breathing and good ol' perspiration, all calm and at peace with the world, zoom back just in time to break my fast.

Namaste. I hope.

Emma & Bemma

I am in a dilemma. Can EmmaGoodEgg write a serious piece for the BT and not lose her marbles?

You see, I spent the whole weekend sitting in front of this screen, somber as hell, drafting out the three main points on what Emma will write about. I had to dig deep to switch on my SERIOUS button to undertake some weighty writing and NOT write about Enrique's Large Mole and Datin Siti, as Emma has been known to. After hours of pondering on why the world is just so, and was uninspired to write even a Celeb Bashing post, that I realised I needed emergency assistance. And so I called Bemma, Emma's Serious Alter Ego. She is so much better at deep thoughts since Emma's a bit of a fluffy bunny.

To wit.

A couple of days ago I was asked certain questions by Dewi from BT, and although they didn't make the cut, here are Emma's responses:

Strengths: Can bench-press 90 kilos
Weaknesses: Hills
Likes: Books, Bags & Bargains
Dislikes: Overcooked Pasta, Office Politics
Life's Ambition: Bench-press 95 kilos
Quote: "I think animal testing is a terrible idea; they get all nervous and give the wrong answers."

These would be Bemma's:

Strengths: Capable of deep deep thoughts
Weaknesses: Not capable of frivolous thoughts
Likes: Non-Fiction
Dislikes: Hollywood endings
Life's Ambition: To sit on the Legislative Council
Quote: "Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." - Albert Einstein

So if the BT piece doesn't sound like EmmaGoodEgg, its just ol' Bemma.

Meeting The Youngsters

On Thursday I met in person three people whose online personas are the only ones I knew of them. We were to meet at 4pm and I was curious about meeting LSM, Maurina and RA, three strangers whom I 'listen' to every day. Their online personalities are, short of a better word, arresting, and this is why I keep coming back for more. I thought about three things that I knew about each of them through their writings before I walked into a room to meet them properly for the first time.

Maurina: Effervescent, vocal, bold
RA: Inquisitive, clever, shy
LSM: Truthful, funny, one smart lad

Is there a theory that says that you could sense a person's true personality through his/her writings? If there isn’t, there should be. At least, in the case of these three, it should. I ticked off all of the above right off the bat. And in the added dimension of reality, I found RA to be shyer than he writes, smarter than he thinks and uses the camera to hide behind. I’ve read that LSM is 25 and he looks even younger. I found him wise beyond his years, and as charming as he is funny. Maurina’s eyebrows did not fail me. Neither did her bubbly personality, one that she uses together with a sharp intellect to turn her into a smart sassy cookie.

I found that in real life their personalities matched their writings on the blog. So I knew that we would have a swell time. And that, we did.