This is my second go at this entry but let’s get one thing out of the way: I would like to wish you happy holidays! Hope you will get to spend it with your loved ones and that you will be giving and receiving amazing presents.

This blog entry has a lot of moving parts, so if you have recently gone through a challenging time I hope you will find some comfort. It has a lot to do with grief.

So the different parts:

– my parents and my relationship(s) with them prior to their deaths
– how their deaths affect (still do) me
– my personality and the way I manage difficulties
– things that happened out there in the world that compelled me to write this

I had a pretty solid relationship with my folks although with that kind of trust we placed on one another there was some enabling or co-dependence and a bit of toxicity (nothing like outright abuse or anything). While I spent a chunk of my 20s out and about learning about myself and the world, I made a lot of time getting to know my parents too. We would hang out in karaoke places, Starbucks, talk about the books we’re reading, TV shows we’re watching and digging. We talked about how they grew up, who they had beef with and gossiped about their relatives and family friends. I saw how they treated their relatives and close friends and I hope I can be a bit like that (highly unlikely but okay we can try).

Haha I have to pause a bit here. I have a girl cat (her name is Odette) and her spot has always been on top of my piano. Because S sent me a bunch of stationery and huge books in April, for months now they took up space on my piano. I finally cleared those and my girl cat is back on top of the piano looking all pleased! Hehe!

OK back to my story!

When my parents each died the pain I felt was more about not being able to make memories with them and missing them.

My mom died in 2018 and my dad died in 2022.

I am talking about it now because I never realised it. I only realised it quite recently and they’ve been dead years now.

I am single (by choice) and child free (by choice). I have been living alone after my dad passed away. I have two siblings who are married with children. Well, my sister no longer is as she lost her husband last year but her kids are still alive. Because we are the way we are, nobody is fighting for my parents’ house because it would mean I’d have to sell the house and move. And I hadn’t lived with them in a decade so no thanks for living even temporarily with them.

My personality is.. I prefer to do things privately. I don’t really wanna tell people stuff about what I’ve been up to. It’s not out of fear of judgment. I simply live in my own world. I see crying as a sign of weakness and an inability to manage emotions. I see weakness as something negative and wrong and you should schedule therapy for or find the root cause. I didn’t cry at either parent’s funeral. In fact I flew to Paris for work 2 days after my dad died. I worked (brought my helper to work!) 3 hours after my relatives left my house after my dad died in the morning. I didn’t understand why people were eager to come to my house to give me a hug and offer their condolences. I had my siblings deal with all that while I went to buy 12 pairs of underwear in case I didn’t have access to a laundromat in France.

Before my folks died I was always learning. I’d take sewing lessons. Baking lessons. Writing lessons. Floral arrangement lessons. Language lessons. All sorts of lessons! Anything except sports. I stopped. Perhaps the last class I went to was the basic counselling class which I enjoyed! Other than that I never went for lessons. I blamed it on workload (which was genuinely crazy). I hate the idea of working in an office now!

I also stopped cooking. When my mother was alive I would be granted some access to the kitchen to experiment recipes. I am an OK cook. I would make cakes and cookies and Malay puffs and food and even sent them to my family and friends. With my dad gone I had no reason to cook. It’s not financially sound, I told everyone.

So my life the past three years was about work, socialising (I don’t regret any of these moments but I think a huge part of this was to fill some void) and just making sure my cats were and are fed.

Break time. I need to put on some pants and get water!!

OK I am back.

One time about 2 weeks ago I woke up at 3am freezing because it was a cold, rainy night. I looked around me and I realised it’s not the way I wanted to live. I am stuck in the past. I don’t know if it sounds crazy but the way I am taking my parents’ deaths is as if one day they will come through the front door and I will see, touch, and talk to them again. So I am just waiting. Meanwhile life is just passing me by. And weeks before this, my next door neighbour, who had been going through a rough time herself, cooked in her kitchen for the first time in months. It smelt fabulous. And then I thought my house is really just a house. It’s no longer a home. I merely come home to sleep and shower and play with my cats. I don’t create anything. I don’t sew. I don’t cook. I don’t even watch TV. I don’t have people over. I think a part of me is very grateful I don’t have human children and a husband I have to be responsible for because I think it would be unfair to get just a husk of a mother or wife. I’m sure people can be understanding to a certain point. Also the point of this post is not to say I don’t do ANYTHING. I do lots of stuff. I am just stuck. Kate Beckinsale lost her stepdad and mother last and this year. I find that she is courageous enough to share her struggles, something I am always reluctant to do.

I would like to start cooking again hehe. I don’t care if it’s not financially sound.. or if I suddenly spent $30 on ingredients what I could get $15 dining out for. I liked whatever I made. I don’t have to do it every day.

I also need to figure out how to make my house a home.

I don’t have any advice or parting words for you… except that you will find joy again someday. It may be in a different form. Maybe you will have new rituals and traditions with new people. Don’t give up!

Lots of love,
Monnica

I am not an ice cream/sorbet/sherbet/gelato kind of person. Maybe I would eat a bit of ice cream with some cake. Yesterday Chappy took me to Birds of Paradise and got me a chocolate sorbet cone.

I told my cousin when she’s in town I’d bring her and she asked okay but where. I said Birds of Paradise. She thought I meant Bird Paradise.. which was what they renamed Jurong Bird Park (now located within the zoo at Mandai).

Now why would I go to Mandai which is located in the middle of nowhere to get sorbet?

Speaking of birds, whenever my siblings land somewhere or have arrived somewhere we would text ‘eagle has landed’. My response would always be ‘cuckoo bird’ or ‘bebird’ (what we call dick in Malay ‘slang’)

Please enjoy this picture:

May the videos never go public

About a month ago I made a trip to a petrol station to get food in the middle of the night. I have mentioned a few times I was OK eating anything but rhoo merde alors we sometimes have to retract what we say!

I eat rice all the time. White rice. If we want to be specific I eat hom mali rice (Thai jasmine rice). But if my rice will be spiced I prefer long grain or basmati. But I don’t like my rice squishy until I put a bit of gravy over (which I do all the time) but the rice on its own must be a bit dry but fluffy.

So I was eating. At one point of my meal I felt a grain of rice stuck in my throat. I kept drinking water and eating some more rice to push it down but those were unsuccessful attempts.. and I just finished eating and started drinking more water. Until! I barfed all over the entrance of the petrol station. I barfed worse than that girl we went drinking with (whose barf was orange because she had Super Ring haha!) and I kept barfing and barfing. I made two other people around the area barf too!

Anyway it was such a horrible episode. I stayed home the entire week after and felt nauseated every now and then.. but recently I went back to the petrol station to get some iced tea. I don’t have any explanation for this but I went in for 2 seconds and turned back around because I did not like the smell of the food! It just smelt nasty!! For months I had always eaten there. And it’s not cheap food! I think they keep unsold food in the fridge and then reheat for later. This is just my thought. It’s not 100% confirmed. Then yesterday while scrolling TikTok I saw some creator post about paying $400 for 2 trays of food and the photos looked so nasty! 🤢🤢🤢 I can’t find that TikTok now but I liked one comment where a person responded to one comment of course before anyone buys you say $400 can feed 200 pax later you accept the order then you say this can’t be done that can’t be done.. and I agree! Some people who run businesses without any knowledge of costing will promise you the entire universe! Then they réalisé shit does cost money and can’t fulfil the order.

So anyway. A boyfriend from a decade ago told me it’s normal to stop eating food we got sick from.. or the last food we ate before we got sick because we just don’t want to die! Haha!

But I had once eaten bad chicken rice in town and barfed all over Orchard Road but I still like and eat chicken rice so.. I guess it doesn’t apply to food we really enjoy?

My brother turned 40 today and I wished him 3 times. I will turn 40 in 2 years. Like he I was also born in the later part of the year. We are both Sagittarius but I think I’m more Sagittarius (am flaky as fuck)! But today he admitted he isn’t social either. I think it’s an old people thing. In my 20s I was hardly home but now I can’t stand looking at people and just want my pillow and cats. Anyway with a December birthday people do shit like combiné my birthday gift with my Christmas gift. I don’t mind though but why do you get 2 presents! I like presents when they’re thoughtful! I don’t care if it’s $2 or $2,000.

As a birthday treat to myself I bought a (single, satu, yi ge, uno) ticket to see the French impressionist painting exhibition in the National Gallery! Yay! The ticket costs only $10.50. I like Degas!! So I am excited about that. Just not sure when I will go. Maybe the 4th… because I have a job appointment. I don’t know why I do this. I don’t really want an office job.. it will bore me to pieces but because I don’t want to do anything else I need to find something to do. Why not play with Microsoft Word right and go soapmaking with colleagues 🤣🤣

So usually for my birthday I go to NOBU! Last year I didn’t. I had conjunctivitis. But. I went to the Ritz instead. And some friends brought me out for halal fine dining. It was meh? I think the one I like is called harumanis. I’m sure it’s spelt like that. They really mini brunoise the jicama! Even I don’t have that kind of knife skills. I like NOBU lots for some reason except for the desserts and how loud it is. I like the Black Cod in Miso.

But we shall see!

The other night my friend invited me to hang out + drink alcohol with other people. Because we are the best of buds I said OK. I don’t really have a relationship with alcohol apart from enjoying a glass of rosé now and then. The interval between now and then is very long. I dislike drinking in public now that I am older and have developed my prefrontal cortex. Actually. I dislike doing anything outside of my house and would prefer to be indoors unless I feel sluggish. Then yes, I would like some sunshine. Just what the doctor ordered!

So because of the casualness of this whole thing, this person brought that person and a friend of a friend came along so it became a party of 12 or 13 easily. I hadn’t stopped to count.

It started raining around 2am. I was getting ready to leave. A girl asked if I could accompany her to the ladies inside the mall. I said OK. She had some to drink (they were drinking whiskey mixed with some cola) and before I knew it she was crying about how sucky her life was or is is it is or was and I was just O_O. I’m not good at giving words of encouragement to practical strangers and after that trip to the loo it became a counseling session outside. I hate this sort of thing! I am private about my struggles and while I don’t need people to be like me I just can’t. It’s not about being emotionally immature. 1) I don’t know you! 2) Some stuff that happened in this person’s life were.. mistakes she made but they’re not as bad even though some were of course irreversible. 3) I should have been an engineer because I always want to solve problems but most people just want to talk about what makes them sad or angry. They don’t want solutions..The default I do in situations like this would be to just let them talk. Occasionally I add a hmm to signal I am listening.

Anyway the drunk emo thing happened from 2 to perhaps 6am. I don’t regret going but I have told my friend who invited me we should not invite this person anymore. It’s not to be a heartless dick. I have outgrown this shit and I don’t want to babysit a grown adult.

You know, I think, women, when you’re in your twenties… I was like this when I was younger, okay? You tend to get very flattered, you tend to feel very special when a man is vulnerable with you, when he opens up to you about his trauma. [fake crying] “You know, Ali… when I was a little boy… my uncle, he…” I’m gonna stop you right there, okay? “Hey! Snap out of it, man! Snap out of it! Come on!” “Let’s keep it positive, let’s keep it sexy.” I’m here for orgasms and free oysters. That’s it, okay? But if you’re a kind six like me, these dudes, they don’t wanna just dick you down. In exchange, they want you to be their mommy-therapist. They call me up, and they’re like, “Ali, I am having the worst fucking day.” I’m like, “Well then, hang up the fucking phone.”“I don’t know why you think it’s acceptable to spread that shit to my day.” “I’m having a great time.” “I’m in my professionally interior decorated home that’s loaded with TOTO toilets.”

OK sorry I think I am chatty today.

I wanted to share about writing classes. I attended one about 8 years ago in an art school. Prior to the writing classes I had also gone for painting lessons which, while I was horrible at, I did quite enjoy. I enjoy learning in general but with such classes I don’t think of return on investments or what kind of future money I can make from it.

However, I struggle with identity a lot (I still do but I’ve taken a less serious approach to it now that I’m almost 40). So I am Malay. Have I felt Malay? Not really. It’s not that I reject the culture or look down on it. I still speak Malay. I love Malay food. I have a few Malay friends. It’s something I just don’t quite feel anything about.

My mom had told me a few times when she held me when I was an infant that she felt if I ever got married I just wouldn’t live in Singapore. She said I would marry a foreigner. My mom would describe me as kelakar seram. (It’s funny but in a sort of creepy way?) So I asked foreign like Bangladesh or foreign like English or ang moh (white) cause foreign is 194 other countries you know. She said she didn’t know! She just felt I wouldn’t live in Singapore in my adulthood.

Well, I am still here.

So the writing classes were conducted by a published author based in Singapore. As I had a lot of time then I picked up some of his books to peruse. I didn’t like his writing style for some reason.. it didn’t hook me.. but of course as I am a polite human being I never brought it up. Why cause waves, right? There was absolutely no difference in the world whether I enjoyed his books or not and I was open minded about learning from him.

There’s peer to peer reading in the classes. I don’t remember a lot of it but I think there was a theme each week and I had to write portions of the work at home and bring them to class. Then we would hand them at the end of each class for his review.

Then he mentioned something like I wasn’t authentic in my writing. But how would you explain culture to someone else who insisted your writing had to include cultural éléments.. when you yourself aren’t/weren’t.. cultural..?

I do do Malay stuff like attend weddings and love karaoke (which I will pronounce the Asian way ka-rao-kay and not karaoke like Carrie Underwood in Before He Cheats) but other than that I think I am a bit of everything.

I want to write more of course. I just don’t know where to start.

I have to clean my house and do laundry in a bit and I thought I would chat for a while. This year due to funemployment I have been reading a lot more than usual. Right now though, I plan to read light novels until the end of the year. Things that are unserious. In fact right now as we speak I am reading a 2018 novel called French Exit. I will tell you all about it when I have finished. I’m ⅕ through.

I used to like to write! When I was about 8 I had to attend some creative writing class. You’ve probably heard the story 26 or more times if we know each other in real life. It was from 10am to 12pm. I believe one term was Tuesdays and another term was on Wednesdays. School started at 1pm for me and even as a wee kid I liked to eat a lot and savour every eating moment so the comments I received about my writing were always about ‘strong starts and abrupt stops’. Of course la abrupt stops I wanted to go for lunch! I try to correct that now but old habits die hard.. or rather I’ve never learnt to correct that. There’s no incentive I think. There’s always something else pressing that needs my attention. My wine doesn’t drink by itself.. hehe

I think all kids should go for writing classes. We have ChatGPT (which, if I have to say so, is a better friend than my friends haha!) that can help us write but individually we have our quirks and flavour so learning to express ourselves with our writing or speech is beneficial. Beneficial for whom I don’t know. I’ll tell you once I figured that out.

I like French Exit so far. It has this line (I don’t know if it’s the writing or the wine.. I am pretty buzzed right now) but I just guffawed like a teenage girl.

“She was a demon. And if such a place as hell exists then that’s where she collects her mail”

Haha!

What is your favourite piece of writing?

On Wednesday my cousin and I met for lunch. At first I had suggested Pu3 (I dooooo love their food) but in the end changed my mind and opted for Loong. My cousin was game.

The food was great. The service, however, was horrible! I don’t know if I should elaborate but here goes: I think they brand themselves as fine dining. But the wait staff assigned to our seat had a grumpy look on his face the entire time, didn’t record our drinks order, dismissed us when we had said our table was too small.

Maybe you don’t know this about me but I am mostly easygoing about food. I can eat cheap food, food people qualify as ‘struggle’ food, and also expensive food. When I am in France I usually make a trip to a Michelin restaurant I really like. It’s not pretentious but I like hearing where my food came from. My Malay acquaintances like to say I eat ‘toy’ food. But it’s multiple courses so before dessert I usually need to take a break.

Of course naturally we posted about our day out. It’s actually the first time I’ve been out since I was sexually assaulted in May. I do go out for meals near where I stay but I’ve not been out beyond maybe 4 km from my house.

So my friends saw the post and probably thought it meant I was ready to socialise. I am not!! Maybe give it a couple of months?