Sunday, July 23, 2006

Lazy Hazy Sunday

As a bunch of the Asiaworks grads meet up at Redbox The Curve to karaoke their hearts out, I'm nursing a sore foot and chilling out at home.

Yann Tiersen's score to Good Bye, Lenin! is an inspiration. There's a haunting quality to the music that evokes a certain kind of nostalgia: I think of my trip to Berlin a few years back, when I walked along the edge of one area of the Wall, reading about the atrocities and imagining what it must have been like back then. The music is sad, the piano riffs are melodic in minor keys, evoking a sense of loss. If I play the score loud enough, I'd be engulfed in a wave of sorrow.

A somewhat morbid way to start off a Sunday but the weather is agreeing; thunder is beckoning and I'm quite sure it's a sign that it will pour in about an hour or two.

My right foot sports a loud magenta bruise. It's just below my big toe and is darker in a spot in the middle, courtesy of someone stabbing a dance heel in my foot. My big toe protests when I move it too much. The ligaments and muscles surrounding the bruise are sore, evidence of my night out at Little Havana, a reminder to myself not to take to the dance floor when it is too crowded.

My kitties are with me, chilling out as I write. Trixie is curled up next to one of the boxes on the carpet. Pixel the fat one is ensconced in his favourite spot: in my bean bag. It was my spot until he claimed it from me. I now rarely use the bean bag for all the fur that's collected on it the same way that I've stopped using my reading chair. The only difference is that the reading chair is a dumping spot for Trixie's fur as that is now HER chair.

I find it mildly ironic that what started out as mine are now my kitties'. It's a reminder to me of exactly how kids will take over our lives when we have them. I'm a pushover with my brown bundles of fur. They get the run of the house and the tables, chairs and beds. They can get me all worked up into a tiff but melt my heart away with their plaintive meows. The boy especially cracks me up with his clown face and his antics to grab attention. They're dear companions: always accompanying me from room to room in the house, reminding me that I'm not alone and that they're always around.

It's a good Sunday afternoon. And I've been proven right: it's now raining lightly. Well, maybe I was off on the pouring bit, but I managed to predict the rain.


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