Image by Simon Scott via Flickr

Just around this time last year my world was in the washing machine equivalent of a spin cycle.

Everything was upside down. My job, my friendships, my love life.

I think NaNoWriMo saved my life then.

All I’d expected was to meet a new motley crew of people to nag for 30 days to finish their novels.

I hadn’t expected to meet the next best thing to family, a group of people whose love for the written word would somehow also inspire strong devotion and friendship.

Talking to Calvin last night over dinner, I thought again about how they’d appeared just in time to fill a huge void left by just one person.

It was a sign of imbalance – that it really wasn’t right that one person could take up so much room in my heart, in my life, in my thinking.

When I was so easily replaced. And the part about being replaced hurts when I think about it. But maybe I was just deluded in the first place, believing in something that never really existed, mired in the illusion of inequal regard.

My friends want me to just get over it, get past it, “Stop emoing about it already!”. But darlings, I emo about everything. It’s OK now. I’m not crying about it, I’m not writing a post weekly about it, I’m not talking about it all the time and worrying the wound until it won’t heal. Not anymore, at least.

In a week, I’ll be starting a new novel and meeting another bunch of new faces. But what cheers me is who will be coming along for the ride. I ‘see’ them everyday in the Gmail thread that would not die. For us Gmail is our pool of meeting, where we either skirt the edges or jump right in.

Never think that in your life you’ll have just one kindred spirit. Don’t be like me, needing my heart to be ripped right open before it had space to let other people in. Opening your heart, some say, is risky. But it’s far more painful to close it off and then have the stitches taken apart when the people you allowed exclusive access make an exit.

Once,I said I only had enough time and energy to devote to very few people. Now, my walls are down. My heart is open. I’ve laid out the Welcome mat.

I understand now why some women are so attached to their hairdresser. Have gone for cuts with the same hairstylist for four times straight – a record. Because Chris at Russell Sallon, 1 Utama, is awesome.

Yes, you all have to suffer another mug shot of moi just so I can talk about how fun and cool Chris is. Having hair as thick and wavy as mine, it’s not easy getting the hairdresser to understand that I HAVE A LOT OF HAIR.

They don’t get it until they’ve chopped off enough to make a short wig, blowdried it and then realised…they haven’t cut enough off! Which means another half hour waiting for the hairdresser to fix what will usually end up a messy, botched haircut anyway.

But Chris gives good suggestions and is super fun to talk to. This time around I got a nice bunch of sunny highlights and a little thinning of the bulk around the middle of my hair. Result: more manageable hair with more bounce and curl.

I used to envy women with either really curly hair or super straight hair. But wavy hair really isn’t too hard to live with, provided you get the right cut. Since my hair is really thick but doesn’t grow very fast, I can get away with a maintenance trim every 3 months. Keeping it short isn’t an option – the less bulk I have, the more it tends to pouf up like an exploded mushroom.

There are times I wish I could shave it all off and just have a buzzcut. No hairbrushes, no gels, no maintenance (besides going back to keep it short). I envy men being able to go get a RM8 haircut at the local barber and not spend more than a few bucks on good hair cream.

But still, there’s nothing quite like sitting at a nice salon with cushy chairs, pleasant music, hilarious hairdresser and sweet-smelling shampoo. Say it with me now: Aaahhhhhhhhh…

So I now weigh myself and track my measurements on SparkPeople every week, with pretty charts and reports.

The good news: I’ve dropped a kilo, lost a few centimetres from my hips and waist.

The bad news: I’m coming along very slowly.

I don’t mind so much that my progress is at a snail’s pace but it’s progress!

Have decided Pilates is the exercise for me.

Why? I’m doing mat work which mostly involves LYING DOWN.

And right after I finished today’s workout and sat down, it felt like I had an invisible brace around my waist. No slouching or melting on my seat as I usually do – Pilates seems to be doing wonders for my posture.

But to supplement my Pilates sessions, I’ll probably start fartlek training next week…fartlek is basically interval training, more intense and less time-consuming. I do not have the time nor the stamina to do hour long jogs. Besides, excessive running is murder on the knees.

Am also attempting to incorporate morning Sun Salutations but there’s my major problem about mornings – getting up early. In the morning all I feel like doing is rolling over to get another extra hour of sleep.

Suggested Pilates to The Suan – she responded with “Sounds like too much effort.”

Sadly, she doesn’t have one of my traits – extreme vanity.

Watching Crazy Little Thing called Love last night, one of the songs wouldn’t leave my head.

Found the song on YouTube, and after listening to it in full, I get why I love it so much. Because it reminds me of the way H loves me.

I’d always imagined I’d date someone middle-class with a similar sort of background, similar education, similar family experience but well, I got someone from the other side of the spectrum.

He’s such a simple man that sometimes it exasperates me. And it breaks my heart sometimes when he just admits to me, "Yes, I’m stupid." But I wouldn’t trade him for a man with more brains, or more money.

There’s nothing fancy bout the way I love you,
but I love you as hard as I can.

My first boyfriend said I was neither pretty nor attractive, but there was ‘something there’.

My second boyfriend always joked about how short and dark I was (maybe compared to him – he was very fair and very tall). Once when I wore a dress in a mall, he was all "Looks better than I thought it would".

H tells me I’m beautiful and means it.

H loves that I’m smart, and laughs when I have a temper tantrum.

H gets upset if I don’t correct his English mistakes and won’t stop asking questions about what something means, or how a grammar rule works.

H doesn’t call me fat, and is horrified at the thought of my starving myself to be thinner. He’d rather I just exercise more.

There’s no good reason for the way you love me,
but you’re my walking dream come true.

And when I was having a horrible emo moment on a Saturday moment, he just says, simply, "Why do you worry so much? I think of you of every day…I want you to be happy."

I sometimes think the stupidest thing he’s ever done is to love me, and the smartest thing I ever did was to let him.

There’s no good reason for the way you love me,
But I thank God that you do.

So here’s Dave Barnes’s Nothing Fancy.

There’s nothing fancy bout the way I love you,
there’s nothing you could not find in any other man.
There’s nothing fancy bout the way I love you,
but I love you as hard as I can.
There’s no good reason for the way you love me,
but you’re my walking dream come true.
There’s no good reason for the way you love me,
But I thank God that you do.
I don’t know the perfect conversation,
I don’t know the way to turn a head,
I don’t know the perfect way to prove my love,
But I know I’ll love you till I’m dead.
There’s nothing fancy bout the way I love you,
It’s as simple as the stars in the sky, and the blue in the sea.
There’s nothing fancy bout the way I love you,
But it sure is fancy how you love me.