AAAARGHH!! I'm starting to shit bricks now. Hey themissingsandwich, if you're reading this, I hear ya, babe. I'm going through exactly the same mental motions and it's freaking me out.
D day is here... I'm starting work at the new place tomorrow, and it's come around way too fast for comfort. I was just starting to settle down into my 'pre-new job' leave, and before you know it, it's time to start waking up early again.
A million... no.. zillion things have addled my mind today. (Well... just a few things, actually, but a zillion sounds much more dramatic and apt for an interesting read, don't you think?)
What if I hate it? What if they hate me? What if I screw up on my first day? What if I don't belong there? Will I be happy? Will leaving my previous job/life be worth it? Will I like being under someone's control? Can I manage to get through 6 months of probation? Did I make the right decision when taking this job? What if I made a mistake? What do I wear? What do I say? Will I get my period as a result of all this self-induced stress?
I can't stop feeling paranoid about this. It's been four years since I last started a new job... I'm out of my comfort zone here and am feeling far too vulnerable for my liking. What if I don't make a good first impression on these people? I don't know them... they might eat me alive. They weren't a very friendly looking bunch, the last time I saw them.
I took at least a good three hours deciding what to wear, and settled on a fairly smart pant-and-shirt combo. Not too creative and not overdressed either. I wouldn't want to look desperate to please (although I am, but they don't have to know that), so I'm keeping it simple.
Since this is kinda sorta a new journey in life that I'm starting tomorrow, I figured I'd also try the whole 'something old, something new' crap that brides do, for superstition's sake. A new pair of pants for luck, old earrings, a book for the 'something borrowed', and my mood to round off the 'something blue'. I'm also taking the comfort of friends along with me, to keep me psychologically secure throughout the day. A necklace from BF, a lilac (my favourite colour) shirt from my good galpal Dil, a bracelet from an office teammate and my mom's hairclip.
I don't want tomorrow to come.... wah... but I guess I have to face it. I'm gonna either make it, or break it with this new job, and I HATE not knowing which end result it's gonna be.
Gah. Argh.
Here goes nothing.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
EEK-quus
I find the abuse of animals in anyway distasteful, regardless of circumstance or reason. So yeah... I gasped and groaned through gritted teeth when Alan Strang first got off on and then blinded six horses in last night's performance of Equus. That's because the production (on a whole) was so damn good, it made me forget that it was a bloody stage play, and I got way too worked up over the story rather than watching the actors itself. And that rarely happens to me when watching a play, because my little experience in drama usually makes me immediately watch out for the technical glitches and individual performances from a critic's point of view, rather than letting the magic of it all take over me like it's supposed to.
So a standing ovation goes from me to His Lordship Steve for giving me my money's worth of entertainment and thought-provoking theatre. I've been reading the criticisms and comments from fellow audience members on other sites, and I have to say, I didn't care about the lack of originality in the local production. There were plenty of little things, in retrospect, that I have critical opinions on, but I was blown away by what I saw in the totality of the production, regardless of all that.
And now onto my OTHER not-so-positive personal opinions about the nuts and bolts of the Equus machine. By the way, I'm no expert... and these are only my viewpoints, and I do not, in any way, represent the mass audience or expert critics.
The Venue
SUCH a pain to go to. The show started at 7.30, and I was there from 6.45 trying to find parking, which wasn't available. The auditorium itself is marvellous, and ideal for this kind of intimate theatre experience, but I wish they'd done something on the logistics front, because it was annoyingly inconvenient.
The Organisers
Rude and inhospitable, from the point of ticket purchase to sitting down at the show. It's a good thing the show was good, because they certainly didn't do much for my enjoyment. There's professional efficiency, and then there's downright obnoxious.
The Script
Aiyo. For the average theatre-goer like me, the script had little to offer, save big words I didn't know the meaning of, and an ending that left me grappling for explantation. I'm used to the 'beginning, middle and end' concept in storylines, and this play made me question the point of it. It was one of those scripts that was so blatantly 'avante-garde' to me, that I figured I had to be an abstract artlover type to see sense in it. OK, so we figured out why this kid did what he did... er... so what? We question 'what is normal'... so what? What is this play supposed to DO for me, as an audience? The script left me unsatisfied.
The Set, Lights and Sound
Nice. It worked for me. minimalism focused on the intensity of the story rather than distracting the eye. The lights didn't shock my system, though, and I've heard some experts say they were predictable... but then again, do you go to watch the lighting, or do you go to watch the play? I did, however, wish they used more reds to bring out the passion and dangerous mental conflicts in certain scenes. But that's just me trying to be stereotypical.
The Acting
Ok.... THIS area I have plenty of things to speak on. But before I do, I also have to respect this cast for holding an audience captive for 2 and a half hours, despite the shortcomings. This is just me nit picking, but from an overall perspective, this cast outshone any other I've seen on the local stage.
I have never seen Rohan Ponniah act, but throughout my life have been told some marvellous things about him, so I went to see this play with great expectations. And... I'm sorry to say, I was bloody disappointed. The souvenir informed me of his many acting credits, but I failed to see the glory as many others did. To me, all he did was articulate and say everything in the same way. It was an ACT, and his portayal of Dysart lacked sincerety. Just too affected for me, and I say this without any bias, because I was so sure the man was the God of stage acting before watching Equus. It was tedious, and I personally felt he could have delivered some of those lines in better ways, but props to the man for having learned all of them! And his over-emphatic articulation did get my attention when it came to every single detail of the story.
Tracy shook her head around too much that it often distracted me from what she was saying. I don't know if she did that on purpose, to give a mild eccentricity and epileptic personality to Mrs. Strang, but it didn't work for me. Again, I felt there was too much 'playing', and less truth in her performance. Even Shanaka's acting was not really upto what I've seen him do in the past. I felt he could have done much more with his role, and I know this guy is a damn good actor. All in all, the parents were lack-lustre to me.
Subha wasn't seductive enough for me. A little too subtle. Ranmali was too wooden in her delivery. Not quite convincing enough for me. Janice, I thought, was awesome as the nurse. She needs to be on stage more... I would love to see some future peformances. Dominic came and went, but made his mark. As always.
The horses weren't all that, I afraid. At least not for me. I thought the visual representation was beautiful, but I didn't see the grace and power coming out of their movements, and they walked like they were blind before actually being blinded. Knowing full well of Shannon's ability as a dancer, I'd have expected so much more in the leg work and body movement to bring out the sexual elegance of a horse, but sadly I didn't see it last night.
And last but not least, Hiran as Alan Strang..... he stole the show. There is not one thing I found wrong in the guy's performance, except maybe for his gorgeous body which I found positively sinful. My hat is off to Hiran, for outshining and completely outdoing all the 'seasoned' actors on that stage last night. There was such truth and beauty in his portrayal of Strang, that I almost wept in sympathy by the end of the show. Enough said.
So there it is... my take on Equus. Negative nit-picking aside, it was a brilliant production on the whole, and one that justified my love for theatre. Would I watch it again? No. It was memorable enough to last.
So a standing ovation goes from me to His Lordship Steve for giving me my money's worth of entertainment and thought-provoking theatre. I've been reading the criticisms and comments from fellow audience members on other sites, and I have to say, I didn't care about the lack of originality in the local production. There were plenty of little things, in retrospect, that I have critical opinions on, but I was blown away by what I saw in the totality of the production, regardless of all that.
And now onto my OTHER not-so-positive personal opinions about the nuts and bolts of the Equus machine. By the way, I'm no expert... and these are only my viewpoints, and I do not, in any way, represent the mass audience or expert critics.
The Venue
SUCH a pain to go to. The show started at 7.30, and I was there from 6.45 trying to find parking, which wasn't available. The auditorium itself is marvellous, and ideal for this kind of intimate theatre experience, but I wish they'd done something on the logistics front, because it was annoyingly inconvenient.
The Organisers
Rude and inhospitable, from the point of ticket purchase to sitting down at the show. It's a good thing the show was good, because they certainly didn't do much for my enjoyment. There's professional efficiency, and then there's downright obnoxious.
The Script
Aiyo. For the average theatre-goer like me, the script had little to offer, save big words I didn't know the meaning of, and an ending that left me grappling for explantation. I'm used to the 'beginning, middle and end' concept in storylines, and this play made me question the point of it. It was one of those scripts that was so blatantly 'avante-garde' to me, that I figured I had to be an abstract artlover type to see sense in it. OK, so we figured out why this kid did what he did... er... so what? We question 'what is normal'... so what? What is this play supposed to DO for me, as an audience? The script left me unsatisfied.
The Set, Lights and Sound
Nice. It worked for me. minimalism focused on the intensity of the story rather than distracting the eye. The lights didn't shock my system, though, and I've heard some experts say they were predictable... but then again, do you go to watch the lighting, or do you go to watch the play? I did, however, wish they used more reds to bring out the passion and dangerous mental conflicts in certain scenes. But that's just me trying to be stereotypical.
The Acting
Ok.... THIS area I have plenty of things to speak on. But before I do, I also have to respect this cast for holding an audience captive for 2 and a half hours, despite the shortcomings. This is just me nit picking, but from an overall perspective, this cast outshone any other I've seen on the local stage.
I have never seen Rohan Ponniah act, but throughout my life have been told some marvellous things about him, so I went to see this play with great expectations. And... I'm sorry to say, I was bloody disappointed. The souvenir informed me of his many acting credits, but I failed to see the glory as many others did. To me, all he did was articulate and say everything in the same way. It was an ACT, and his portayal of Dysart lacked sincerety. Just too affected for me, and I say this without any bias, because I was so sure the man was the God of stage acting before watching Equus. It was tedious, and I personally felt he could have delivered some of those lines in better ways, but props to the man for having learned all of them! And his over-emphatic articulation did get my attention when it came to every single detail of the story.
Tracy shook her head around too much that it often distracted me from what she was saying. I don't know if she did that on purpose, to give a mild eccentricity and epileptic personality to Mrs. Strang, but it didn't work for me. Again, I felt there was too much 'playing', and less truth in her performance. Even Shanaka's acting was not really upto what I've seen him do in the past. I felt he could have done much more with his role, and I know this guy is a damn good actor. All in all, the parents were lack-lustre to me.
Subha wasn't seductive enough for me. A little too subtle. Ranmali was too wooden in her delivery. Not quite convincing enough for me. Janice, I thought, was awesome as the nurse. She needs to be on stage more... I would love to see some future peformances. Dominic came and went, but made his mark. As always.
The horses weren't all that, I afraid. At least not for me. I thought the visual representation was beautiful, but I didn't see the grace and power coming out of their movements, and they walked like they were blind before actually being blinded. Knowing full well of Shannon's ability as a dancer, I'd have expected so much more in the leg work and body movement to bring out the sexual elegance of a horse, but sadly I didn't see it last night.
And last but not least, Hiran as Alan Strang..... he stole the show. There is not one thing I found wrong in the guy's performance, except maybe for his gorgeous body which I found positively sinful. My hat is off to Hiran, for outshining and completely outdoing all the 'seasoned' actors on that stage last night. There was such truth and beauty in his portrayal of Strang, that I almost wept in sympathy by the end of the show. Enough said.
So there it is... my take on Equus. Negative nit-picking aside, it was a brilliant production on the whole, and one that justified my love for theatre. Would I watch it again? No. It was memorable enough to last.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Sayonara, Dignity.
The best way to come back down to earth a notch is to make a complete arse of oneself in front of the very society you try to pretentiously emulate. Interestingly, the gods decided to favour (or torture) me with the experience last night. Lets just put it this way... it'll be some time before I show my face in Colombo 7 public again.
The BF and I decided to hit El Cinnamon Grande last evening to try out the Japanese food promo going on, which is part of the bigger World Spice Festival taking place in Colombo. For about the past year now, I've developed myself a nice little craving for Jap cuisine, and poor BF has been my guinea pig for experimenting by visiting restaurants and trying out the stuff with. With Jap food being quite an expensive dining experience in Sri Lanka, I was more than excited when I learnt of the Cinnamon Grand having this 'all-you-can-eat' promo for a reasonable price. And so, the guinea pig and I took a chance on it.
The promotion itself was very well executed, with Jap chefs flown in from... well... Japan... and a delectable array of authentic fare on offer. The hotel had taken it one step further and gone to the lengths of creating the ambience to match the food, and it all came together to create quite the experience.
But that's not what this blog is about. This blog is dedicated to one of the many things fate and my addle-minded body is cuelly capable of when it comes to me.
Before I go on, please note that I took great pains to dress 'Japanesey' last night... sifting through my wardrobe clutter to find the perfect cherry blossom (well, they LOOKED like cherry blossoms) outfit and wrestle my hair into a style worthy of high-society dining. Had I known what I was in for, I might as well have worn my oldest pyjamas.
Anyways, we go to the Cinnamon Grand, me feeling posh and hoity toity and all, and went into the promo area. Spying a couple of local celebrities and posher relatives around, I immediately did that detestable female thing and started to strut around and be 'in' with the crowd. You know... stupid things like flicking my hair all over the place, strutting on heels that were hurting my hamstring and pouting like Marylin Monroe. BF couldn't care less, of course... being the completely unpretentious creature that he is. He was more interested in making faces at the octopus balls on display.
So there I was, preening and parading like a cherry blossom peacock, getting BF to serve hold my plates so that I could serve even more stuff and overload our table, since it would be SO not done to and 'goday' to keep going back to the buffet too many times. I took just about everything there was, with the exception of the octopus and boiled algae (yuck), wagged my ass back to our table and laid it all out in the most fashionable way, all the while giving snooty looks at the rest of the diners.
And then...
And then I tipped the table on myself.
Yes. Exactly. I stepped on some goddamn shaky table base, held on to the edge of the table to sit my heeled and unbalanced (in many ways) self down, and brought the entire table down at myself, Japanese cuisine and all.
The next thing I knew, there was boiling hot Miso soup drenching my pants, and pieces of raw tuna splattered all over my cherry blossoms, with some wasabi and soy sauce for added effect. Not only that, I had also managed to fling the crockery onto the floor, and a loud crash and smash confirmed that I'd shattered some.
All this at the table for two situated next to the entrance of the place, which meant EVERYBODY saw me. Nice going, Dramaqueen.
There was quite a long bit of stunned silence from the diners and I swear the Colombo 7 ladies were dying to snigger fashionably. it wasn't just a few pieces of food... the ENTIRE TABLE was all over the floor, and more entertainingly, all over me.
I must say BF should be given an award for his ability to move into action with Road Runner reflexes. Why shouldn't he have... he's been through this plenty of times before, and is an old pro at girlfriend disaster recovery. While I stood there looking a wide-eyed and complete mess, he calmly helped the waiters to start cleaning up and transferred the remains to another table whilst instructing me to go to the washroom and clean myself up, without so much as batting an eyelid or sighing like he used to do back when my clumsiness was still new to him. I know he was dying to laugh out loud, because it was almost expected to, and COULD only have happened to me.
The restaurant manager pointed the way to the washrooms. True to myself, I just HAD to rush into the wrong one, and end up staring at a man who'd (thankfully) just concluded peeing. For a moment, both of us wondered what the fuck the other was doing in that toilet, until he came out of his shock and indignantly informed me that the ladies was next door.
Try guessing how loud, long and repetitive my scream of "F***!!!?!!!?!?!" was, once I found my way to the right bathroom.
I tried to use a wet face towel and wash off the soup and fish combo that had by now trailed right down my outfit, making it look like I'd purged beancurd. However, all I did was make it ten times worse, because I ended up with patches of wet trouser that gave out the 'just-peed-alot' look. SO, yours truly used her creative skill, and decided to wet the WHOLE outfit, in the hopes that a uniform wetness would trick the viewing eye. Dumbass.
BF raised a questioning eyebrow at me when I walked back to the table, red-faced and drenched from head to toe in my new wet-look, but didn't say a word. Neither did anyone else, but that was sheer fear of making too much noise with their laughter. Not a sound was uttered by my tolerant better half about the catastrophe, right through the rest of the evening... not even when I mentioned that my new look was soaking the plush Cinnamon Grand chair I was sitting on. He was extremely gentlemanly, and even went back to the buffet four times over on my behalf (self-inflicted disasters make me hungry), so as to save me further embarrasement. I apologized profusely to the hotel management, and offered to pay for the dishes I'd broken, but they were very nice about it all, and even offered me a t-shirt to wear (which I declined, because, of course, it didn't look Japanesey).
The rest of the evening was fairly non-destructive, and we polished off quite a bit of food. We even felt adventurous enough to try out stuff I used to balk at before, and I have to admit, it wasn't half bad. BF even succeeded putting a smile on my humiliated face by making a smiley face out of the dessert he served for me.
Oh... and Anarkali was there.
But this blog isn't about her either.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Prima Taste-less?
Wednesday night saw the family and I trying out a new restaurant in Colombo. We occasionally get into this sudden fit to experiment at the risk of disappointing our wallets and stomachs. This time's venue of choice was the new Singaporean place in Rajagiriya, named 'Prima Taste'. Decisions were made based on the rave reviews I'd seen in some city magazines, as well as personal recommendations from friends who'd tried it out. So off we went, salivating at the thought of some authentic S'porean goodies. The last time I went to Singapore in 2005, I ate so much good food that I still haven't gotten the tastes out of my memory, so you can imagine how hyped I was about the chance to experience it all over again.The Venue
The restaurant itself is quite spanky (Probably because it's still new...local eateries have a tendency to lose interest in their interior upkeep after a few years), and is very much Singaaporean in atmosphere. Pristinely sanitary looking white dining areas, with minimalistic decor and furnishing, finished off with some flourescent blue lighting accents and a large black & white mural of metropolitan Singapore adoring one whole wall in each dining section. The finishing touches of large single-glass window panes with dark wood square latices brings it all together to make the diner forget that Sri Lanka is out there. No doubt there has been Singaporean involvement in designing this interior.
The Menu
I feel I must make mention of the menus too. This was the first time I'd seen menus that made me so hungry. Classy and international in look and feel, they carry full-page pictures of succulent dishes, and look very much like those gorgeous recipe books that we buy off the shelf and use for eye candy alone. Plus, it is worthy to note that every single dish listed on the menu was authentic to Singapore, which is a very pleasant surprise to a diner like myself, who, through previous experience, expects the same old local-chinese fare to be presented. My excitement mounted when going through the menu here, and the mouth began to water at quite a speedy rate.
But that's about as far as the positive element of the night went.
The Rest
When you've got the winning combination of a fabulous looking restaurant teamed up with a menu that can drive the patron crazy with desire, then the worst thing you could do is kill all that expectation you've built up with a lacking end delivery. Unfortunately, this is what Prima Taste did to me.
For starters (pun intended), nothing I ordered was available. I went through around six different dishes (when, mind you, the list isn't all that extensive either) before we came to one that was actually available. And it was quite ridiculous too. For instance, we ordered the black pepper crab (signature dish, as boldly displayed on the menu), were informed that it wasn't available, but we could try the chillie crab instead. How on earth could a restaurant have the crab available, but not the pepper?? Then they said they could serve me laksa noodles, and not fried noodles, as I ordered. EH?!? It's the same noodle, man! With the same preparation, except for a soup being added to one... the one you COULD serve me! A giggly, blushing and highly embarrassed looking waiter informed me that my incredulous looks were nothing compared to what he'd gotten from other diners for the last month of operation. It almost made me feel sorry for the man.
At one point, everything became quite hysterical. During his stammering explanations as to why they could serve only 25% of the menu, the waiter revealed that everything was still in Singapore. That included the chef and the manager, in addition to the pepper crab. Not able to hold it in any longer, my entire family just burst into teary fits of giggles. When asked why they gave us such a glorious display on the menu, we were told that the menu's came from Singapore too. The laughter just got worse.
Then there was the incident with the oysters.
The menu presented a dish of oysters with chillie prawns. Dad asked the waiter if this was available, and we were promptly informed that it, in fact, was. He was quite proud about it too. The conversation went something like this-
Dad - "Do you have the oyster dish?"
Waiter- " Yes sir. Oyster is available"
Dad - "You're sure no?"
Waiter- " Yes sir. We have the oyster dish"
Dad - " Are they good oysters?"
Waiter- "Very good, sir."
Dad - " You're sure they're fresh, right?"
Waiter- "fresh oyster, sir. Oyster hondai (good)."
Dad - "Ok. Bring us one portion of it."
Fifteen minutes later, he brought us a fancy presentation of six chillie prawns. We dug around looking for oysters, but found only a weak-looking salad leaf underneath.
Dad - " Ko oysters??" (Where are the oysters?)
Waiter - " Why sir... oyster sauce, no, sir?"
Guess how much sniggering erupted at THAT point.
All in all, the fare served last night was, to me, a disappointment. We had the laksa noodles that tasted very much like packeted soup noodles, Singapore fried rice that hadn't any salt, chicken satays that were far too sweet, oysters with chillie prawns that you now know about, and Singapore Chillie Crab that... well... didn't have any chillie in it.
It all made sense when, on our exit, we spied a counter selling ready-to-cook packs of Prima spice mixes for each of the dishes lined up on the menu. As expected, the black pepper crab mix, amongst some others, was missing. I have to admit to some indignation. When I choose to pay a restaurant, I would prefer if some chef used his skills and made me the food from scratch rather than done what I could easily do at home for a pittance of the cost. And what then, I ask, is the point of having the Singaporean chef in the first place?!?
I should also warn any future patrons of the place that their costs exceed their service, and we ended up with a bill that gave us more pain than the ache that all the laughing left in our tummies.
And so, in a nutshell, Prima Taste ended up being the dining experience that is definitely not authentic to Singapore, even though several other elements would have been. If you feel like trying it out for yourself, I would advice you to call first, and make sure the chef is around.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Feelin' Pawsh
Ho hum. Have just come home after a very upmarket day, and feel extremely Beverly Hills-ish. Watch me strut.
Not that i could or did afford any of today's happenings... luck just brought me opportunities that I put into use, and it all rounded up to a day of living the celebrity lifestyle. You see, I received a couple of vouchers from the BF and relatives in the last few months for various things - professional massages and a five-star meal to be precise. Then, on my birthday, my mum gave me a Macbook (The most expensive gift I've ever received in my life!). I also do radio voicings and occasionally model for commercials because of friends in the ad industry who drag me into them. (And because I'm jobless and broke enough to do it)
So, today was one of those rare days when it all came together. Woke up today to a fabulous looking head of hair, thanks to me having cut it a couple of days back. slipped on a pair of jeans, drove myself to a commercial voicing in my Peugeot (the one I haven't returned to my old office yet), went and met the Apple guys about my Spanky Macbook, sashayed my way into the massage parlour where I was treated to half an hour of pure bliss by way of the world's best head massage (which, btw, left my hair looking even fuller and better!), spent another half an hour trying on shoes and clothes at a shopping hotspot, and finished it off with a grand lunch at the Cinnamon Grand, alongside a very well-groomed boyfriend who looked particularly smashing today.
Shah, no?
I am now going to lounge in bed and try to get my brother to feed me grapes.
Not that i could or did afford any of today's happenings... luck just brought me opportunities that I put into use, and it all rounded up to a day of living the celebrity lifestyle. You see, I received a couple of vouchers from the BF and relatives in the last few months for various things - professional massages and a five-star meal to be precise. Then, on my birthday, my mum gave me a Macbook (The most expensive gift I've ever received in my life!). I also do radio voicings and occasionally model for commercials because of friends in the ad industry who drag me into them. (And because I'm jobless and broke enough to do it)
So, today was one of those rare days when it all came together. Woke up today to a fabulous looking head of hair, thanks to me having cut it a couple of days back. slipped on a pair of jeans, drove myself to a commercial voicing in my Peugeot (the one I haven't returned to my old office yet), went and met the Apple guys about my Spanky Macbook, sashayed my way into the massage parlour where I was treated to half an hour of pure bliss by way of the world's best head massage (which, btw, left my hair looking even fuller and better!), spent another half an hour trying on shoes and clothes at a shopping hotspot, and finished it off with a grand lunch at the Cinnamon Grand, alongside a very well-groomed boyfriend who looked particularly smashing today.
Shah, no?
I am now going to lounge in bed and try to get my brother to feed me grapes.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Age and a Highly-Strung Ham.
Ouch.
Remind me of them good old days when hamstrings felt normal, please.
Ouch.
So, yours truly decided to give unnecessary risk a whole new meaning when I attempted to demonstrate a 'split' while dancing at a mini-performance this weekend. The last time I did a split was around twelve years ago, at some absurd school show. Two dozen years later, you'd think wisdom would have set in along with age by now, but nooo... I just had to go and try it again, didn't I...
I blame senility. And his sister denial.
BUT, on a positive note (abject pain aside), I did manage to split quite successfully during the performance. Not once, but twice. At least I know it's still possible, and I don't need to do Anlene shots just yet.
The reason for all this pain and misery? A cast trip.
Having recently concluded our run of 'Blood Brothers', the WSP committee got together and organized a cast trip for all thoe involved in the production. This year's venue of choice was Hotel Mermaid in Kalutara. (I was pleasantly surprised by the place, btw... I fully expected some two-star sleazy joint, and instead enjoyed some fabulous comforts worthy of a four-star hotel) We went with a massive to-do list in hand, complete with numerous group activities and what not. Everyone was on an all-time energy high, singing boozing and dancing at the drop of a hat all the way there.... everyone, that is, except me. All I did was curl up in the back of the chaotic bus and want to nap. I figured it was because I'd had a late night the previous evening, and told myself that once we'd gotten to the hotel and started on our activities, I'd be up and hopping like an energizer bunny.
Once at the hotel, we got our keys and made our way to our quite plush rooms. Assuming that it would take the gang a few minutes to settle themselves in, I plopped on the bed and turned on the tv. Before I knew it, I was snoring like a bulldog with sinus trouble.
And that's all I did, and can remember from the rest of the trip.
Of course, it was interspersed with short moments of awareness, when we rehearsed for and participated in the evening's performance (we held a grand 'oscar' style awards night to honour individual efforts during the production),where my thigh so rudely gave out in the middle of a 'cats' dance number. Then there were the few times I descended on the hotel restaurant to stuff myself with whatever food was available. But apart from that, I saw more of my bed than I did of anyone or anything else related to the cast trip. I still have no idea what happened on that trip with the rest of the cast, because I was far too busy dreaming absurdities under my very nice white bedsheet for two whole days.
Gah. I remember when cast outings were nothing but 42-hour raves, with sleep finding us only once we'd gotten back home. High intensity vacations filled with water polo, volleyball, dance competitions and spirited jam sessions. But now.... now all I do is fart in my sleep right through the whole trip. Next stop, menopause.
Sigh. Ouch.
Remind me of them good old days when hamstrings felt normal, please.
Ouch.
So, yours truly decided to give unnecessary risk a whole new meaning when I attempted to demonstrate a 'split' while dancing at a mini-performance this weekend. The last time I did a split was around twelve years ago, at some absurd school show. Two dozen years later, you'd think wisdom would have set in along with age by now, but nooo... I just had to go and try it again, didn't I...
I blame senility. And his sister denial.
BUT, on a positive note (abject pain aside), I did manage to split quite successfully during the performance. Not once, but twice. At least I know it's still possible, and I don't need to do Anlene shots just yet.
The reason for all this pain and misery? A cast trip.
Having recently concluded our run of 'Blood Brothers', the WSP committee got together and organized a cast trip for all thoe involved in the production. This year's venue of choice was Hotel Mermaid in Kalutara. (I was pleasantly surprised by the place, btw... I fully expected some two-star sleazy joint, and instead enjoyed some fabulous comforts worthy of a four-star hotel) We went with a massive to-do list in hand, complete with numerous group activities and what not. Everyone was on an all-time energy high, singing boozing and dancing at the drop of a hat all the way there.... everyone, that is, except me. All I did was curl up in the back of the chaotic bus and want to nap. I figured it was because I'd had a late night the previous evening, and told myself that once we'd gotten to the hotel and started on our activities, I'd be up and hopping like an energizer bunny.
Once at the hotel, we got our keys and made our way to our quite plush rooms. Assuming that it would take the gang a few minutes to settle themselves in, I plopped on the bed and turned on the tv. Before I knew it, I was snoring like a bulldog with sinus trouble.
And that's all I did, and can remember from the rest of the trip.
Of course, it was interspersed with short moments of awareness, when we rehearsed for and participated in the evening's performance (we held a grand 'oscar' style awards night to honour individual efforts during the production),where my thigh so rudely gave out in the middle of a 'cats' dance number. Then there were the few times I descended on the hotel restaurant to stuff myself with whatever food was available. But apart from that, I saw more of my bed than I did of anyone or anything else related to the cast trip. I still have no idea what happened on that trip with the rest of the cast, because I was far too busy dreaming absurdities under my very nice white bedsheet for two whole days.
Gah. I remember when cast outings were nothing but 42-hour raves, with sleep finding us only once we'd gotten back home. High intensity vacations filled with water polo, volleyball, dance competitions and spirited jam sessions. But now.... now all I do is fart in my sleep right through the whole trip. Next stop, menopause.
Sigh. Ouch.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
missmanagement
Nope... that's not a typo on my title.... read on.
So it's over. Another chapter of my life closed today, when I bid farewell to the office I had practically lived in for the last four and a half years, and the small but wonderful group of people I came to love as my extended family. I've always prided myself on being a somewhat hard-hearted bitch who can move on quite easily from one phase to another without much icky nostalgia and sentiment, but maaan.... today......God, it was so friggin' tough to leave that room, and I, miss cool clown, so lost my bearings and broke down in tears. I wasn't the only one... everyone else took my cue and started bawling too, and it was a nice little puddle we created in that department today.
I know what you're thinking. "Get a life, woman... it's just an office. Not like you died or anything."
But you know... I think I did die a bit today. I gave up more than 'just an office'... I gave up part of me.
When I first started the company off, I was a clueless bit of fluff, struggling to figure out how to set up a business and figuring out what to do with it after that. Ever since then, it's been one long roller-coaster ride of trials and triumphs alike, and I not only molded the organisation, but also myself into the professional I am today. From sitting alone on the floor of a large room with a PC next to me (the only thing we could afford at the time), to a fully fledged (and fully equipped!) place full of highly dynamic people, this baby of mine grew up fast to become quite a worthy contender in it's industry. And I am DAMN proud to say I was a part of all that, and moreover, that I actually led the way.
Leading a team of people was something I knew nothing about. I didn't know what to do, or how to do it. But through the years of making mistakes, I worked out quite a successful formula of management techniques that helped us to achieve. Forget Kotler, Drucker or any other guru that the marketing notes adulate. This formula was bourne out of sheer ignorance of the so-called 'laws of leadership', and created through a long process of falling down until I learned to stand in my own individual style.
So, if there's anyone out there who's gotten the opportunity to manage an operation, but as a result of inexperience is deathly afraid like I was, here are my tried-and-true management mantras-
Alas, I am no longer managing the team... I'm moving on to try my hand at something new.
I feel sad and dreary, and yet, quite accomplished for all that I have learned from my experience here. I will miss my guys sorely... they made my job worthwhile. But whilst I am leaving behind a team of employees, I am taking with me a fantastic bunch of best friends.
Farewell, baby. Kiss.
So it's over. Another chapter of my life closed today, when I bid farewell to the office I had practically lived in for the last four and a half years, and the small but wonderful group of people I came to love as my extended family. I've always prided myself on being a somewhat hard-hearted bitch who can move on quite easily from one phase to another without much icky nostalgia and sentiment, but maaan.... today......God, it was so friggin' tough to leave that room, and I, miss cool clown, so lost my bearings and broke down in tears. I wasn't the only one... everyone else took my cue and started bawling too, and it was a nice little puddle we created in that department today.
I know what you're thinking. "Get a life, woman... it's just an office. Not like you died or anything."
But you know... I think I did die a bit today. I gave up more than 'just an office'... I gave up part of me.
When I first started the company off, I was a clueless bit of fluff, struggling to figure out how to set up a business and figuring out what to do with it after that. Ever since then, it's been one long roller-coaster ride of trials and triumphs alike, and I not only molded the organisation, but also myself into the professional I am today. From sitting alone on the floor of a large room with a PC next to me (the only thing we could afford at the time), to a fully fledged (and fully equipped!) place full of highly dynamic people, this baby of mine grew up fast to become quite a worthy contender in it's industry. And I am DAMN proud to say I was a part of all that, and moreover, that I actually led the way.
Leading a team of people was something I knew nothing about. I didn't know what to do, or how to do it. But through the years of making mistakes, I worked out quite a successful formula of management techniques that helped us to achieve. Forget Kotler, Drucker or any other guru that the marketing notes adulate. This formula was bourne out of sheer ignorance of the so-called 'laws of leadership', and created through a long process of falling down until I learned to stand in my own individual style.
So, if there's anyone out there who's gotten the opportunity to manage an operation, but as a result of inexperience is deathly afraid like I was, here are my tried-and-true management mantras-
- Those on your team are people first, and employees second. Once you figure that out and get off your management high-horse, you'll understand what makes each person tick, so that you will then figure out how to motivate each individual to work to his or her maximum potential.
- The simplest rewards can be the most rewarding. I never did have sufficient money in the company to hand out bonuses and increments like nobody's business. But that didn't mean that my employees weren't shown appreciation at every given opportunity. Personal letters, plenty of one-on-one chat time, ownership for our every success and occasional in-house funtime brought me a whole lot more productivity and loyalty than most other companies.
- They won't love it if you don't. Who on earth wants to deal with a morose manager on a daily basis? My team knew I adored every minute I spent at office, and I made sure they got my drift through example, when I said passion for your work is the key ingredient to success. Result? I inform them of far better employment prospects in other companies and I get glares and outright (and often loud) rejection in return.
- Trust them with your life. I don't have to spell this one out. My guys would've died for me, and I for them. It was this mutual understanding that helped us gel and develop brilliant teamwork.
- You're not GOD. Nothing's worse than a manager who thinks he/she is above everyone else, and gives out the message that he/she can do no wrong. It just makes things worse when you mess up in front of your team. I made no bones about the fact that I was human too, and that sometimes I didn't know what i was doing. The strangest thing is, when you're honest about your stupidity, people respect you that much more.
- Never stop learning. Never stop teaching. My company grew because we strived together to maintain a constant flow of knowledge. Anything we learned was passed around, and that ensured a well-rounded unit. Teaching people what you know makes you redundant in your job, which to me is a very good thing, because then, when you do leave, you're ensured that the company will survive and carry on.
Alas, I am no longer managing the team... I'm moving on to try my hand at something new.
I feel sad and dreary, and yet, quite accomplished for all that I have learned from my experience here. I will miss my guys sorely... they made my job worthwhile. But whilst I am leaving behind a team of employees, I am taking with me a fantastic bunch of best friends.
Farewell, baby. Kiss.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)