Tuesday, December 04, 2012

Letter 638: Open Heart

December escapes me. 

Last week the mercury hit 43 degrees Celsius and the queue for gelati was a mile long, but tonight I am huddled under a wool blanket, clutching a warm mug of cocoa with outside temperatures dipping to 16 degrees Celsius and wind speeds up to 50 kilometers per hour. My dog came in to the house after his poop session in the garden, wet and shivering, but just as hyperactive as ever.

When the weather was warm, we had fun. We played Taboo and Pictionary at someone's house till 1.30 in the morning. We ate soto and nasi impit and kuih lompet and karipap. We also had slow-cooked lamb pizza and prawn and basil fettucine and a dessert platter which featured one of the best tiramisu's I've ever had. I found out cats liked to play dead, too, just like my dog. Or at least grey, chubby British Shorthairs do. The catchphrase of the weekend was "Remember: Friends are for life." Everyone liked it, virtually. I wished the weekend never ended.

Then again, I am constantly wishing for perpetual weekends. I buy too many books (five today!), but don't read enough. I buy too many pairs of heels (three today!), but don't seem to have the chance to flaunt them too often. My feet are used to ballet flats-- sensible, comfortable footwear that doesn't make my knee ache and wobble like an 80 year old woman's. My 80 year old patients probably have better knees than I do. I know what's wrong with my right knee (the dangers of self-diagnoses), but I don't want to go for an arthroscopy (the dangers of denial). So I keep applying voltaren gel over my knee because I don't like popping tablets, and I buy platformed heels now because they are so much more comfortable than what I was used to wearing. It's probably contradictory, but then my life is full of oxymorons as colourful as the heels I bought today.

Yesterday we wanted to uncork another bottle of wine after dinner, but something came up and I find myself waking up at 5 in the morning today to say my goodbyes to the only two relatives who were going to attend my wedding. So now it's only going to be my parents attending from my family's side. It seems sad to word it this way, but in actual fact it is not so sad at all, although that bottle of wine still sits, uncorked, on the dining table which seems so huge now that two people have departed. 


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