Mrs Boo - 30 Lifer Crisis

Amazing, I actually made time to go watch a movie with Mr Boo last night - almost a good one month after my last movie (which was equivalent to donkey years ago), propelled by the desire to do some normal activity, and the fact that we had free movie tickets and the show was ending its run…….

Not that Night Watch was boring or anything, but I was yawning non-stop and trying not to fall asleep, which just shows you how bloody tired I am every day. In any case, I made through the almost two hour movie without sliding into oblivion, so that was a good thing, I guess.

Night Watch is the first of a horror-cum-fantasy trilogy about the balance between the “Others” in the city of Moscow, gifted, magical humans who have to choose between the good (aka “Night Watch”) and evil (aka “Day Watch”). Both sides know of the prophecy that one day there will come a “Great Other”, so powerful that he would tip the fragile balance between the two sides, and obviously both sides want him to come onto their side. Night Watch is the story of a man, Anton, through an encounter with a witch (evil Other) to try to get his girlfriend to return to his side and unsuccessfully get her to miscarry what he thought is another man’s child, became an Other. While he chose the good side, he continued to feel guilt over his mistakes, and horror over his new gifts which he needed to use to patrol errant Evil “Others”. To cut a long story short, what he had encountered was an elaborate plot by “Day Watch” to get his (Anton’s) son, still a 12-year-old, and the “Great Other”, to convert to the forces of Evil….. (i.e. please stay tuned for next installments - Day Watch and Dusk Watch).

The movie is very much like a Matrix, sans the computer mumbo-jumbo, and a modern day Lord of the Rings ie fight between the good and the evil. The pace is quite tight, the effects good and convincing, the “hero” Anton, not good looking but carries the movie quite effectively. Despite all this, Night Watch lacks something, an “oompf” that would make this a special movie - one could not help but feel that we have watched something similar before.

Perhaps we have become too jaded. It is like the slate of horror movies that followed the mind-boggling The Ring (the Japanese one, not American version), and nothing, nothing ever came close to the original, and while there are still scares, nothing could dethrone The Ring from the pedestal.

Still, Night Watch is a pretty good movie. Pity I was too tired to truly enjoy it……

Rating: 3.5 boos out of 5

Due to lack of time this will be my shortest review ever.

I read this book 3 weeks ago, in Phuket.

I took 2 weeks to complete the book (something that would normally take only 3 days).

I have not read any other book since.

John Rebus, the main character, an aging Scottish detective in his late 40s/50s trawling the seedy streets of Edinburgh, is one of my favourite fictional characters alongside Lincoln Rhyme and Amelia Peabody (the Egyptologist). Rebus is a multi-faceted character, many dark but fascinating sides, real and never boring.

Resurrection Men is like about the 10th book I have read by Ian Rankin. As usual, Rankin has kept up to his high standards of writing. The plot is great, as usual, with the twists and turns, and the villians are never what they seem. Since the story is too complicated to be written into a simplified sypnosis, suffice to say that it is a book about murders, gangs and corrupt cops.

Brilliant, and a recommended read - like all John Rebus books by Rankin.

Rating: 4 boos out of 5

Mr Boo thinks I am born to do sales, because:

1. I talk a lot
2. I like to socialise
3. I love to see money coming in
4. I am great at kissing asses, even to people I dislike
5. Sales is more glamourous than other boring backroom operations

So in my last job, when I was selling projects to multinationals, I did well, well enough to be a one of the top sales persons. Even then, it was stressful, always trying to hit the monthly target set by my ex-company. But the thrill of closing the sale (especially a big one) was unbeatable.

Now, I have a daily sales target, selling watches to fickle minded, brand conscious and price conscious consumers. Scary. I never felt more stress in my whole life. There are good days and there are bad days, and bad days are enough to make you cry. Sales now is everything - it concerns the company’s survival. No sales means no money to pay rent and stock, and bankruptcy beckons….!! Everyday, my partner and I fret if we are bringing in sufficient sales, analysing numbers, looking at how far we are away from daily, weekly and monthly targets, wondering how we can bring the customers in, instead of relying to a few steadfast repeat customers or friends and relatives.

Almost every night I dream of watches and my sleep is restless. We may do brilliantly one day, but that doesn’t mean you will do brilliantly the next - and that is the uncertainty of business, particularly a NEW business. We are a long way from being established and able to ride out bad periods (like NOW) when the retail scene is quiet.

Occasionally I sink into a state of helplessness and that’s when I know I really need God’s supernatural favour to fall upon me. Knowing that worrying is useless, and yet I continue to worry and not put things into God’s hands - and that’s my agony as a new business owner.

Not dead yet - but dead tired.

Working 7 days a week is no laughing matter. The only upside is I have lost 2 kg already (free and painless slimming programme, anyone?).

My period is screwed up (some idiotic 3rd week bleeding for a day, and then stopped - 2nd month running - but my compatriot who had experienced the same thing said this was due to stress…). Obviously my hormones are protesting that I am suddenly working myself too hard - after a life of leisure.

I haven’t read a new book in over 2 weeks, since I have no time to go to my favourite second hand bookstore due to my “retail” working hours.

I am watching boring late night TV, and likely to miss some of my favourite programmes like The Amazing Race, etc.

I am having sex with Mr Boo once a week. I asked Mr Boo last night if he felt a bit deprived, and that poor man nodded his head. This is telling in view that I am more sexually charged than him, I think…..

I want to do a review of the last book I read, Resurrection Men, by Ian Rankin, but I have got to rush out for work soon.

How long can this last??? I’m still hanging on baby, still hanging on!

Mr Boo has this frequent Mandarin saying: “Fertile water should not flow into other people’s fields”. What this means basically is that he does not like me to dress too sexily and to expose too much skin as it may attract unwanted attention from the men out there. The wonders of my sacred body should be confined within the four walls of the bedroom (any bedroom). Mr Boo is conservative in that manner. As am I for different reasons (no good body, no exposure).

While on our vacation in Phuket, we went snorkelling around Phi Phi islands (or rather I did, while Mr Boo stayed on the boat - he was a worse swimmer than me). Although I am a crap swimmer, I swore that I had to see the coral reefs and fishes for myself. So for much of the time, with my life jacket securely strapped on, I hung on for dear life on the rope attached to the speedboat, and got my first glimpses of underwater life (beautiful by the way). At that time, I was wearing a bikini, and the fact that I did not have the most fullsome breasts on earth meant that the bikini was not too secure. Added to the fact that the waves were very strong at that time meant disaster was about to happen. And so it did.

As I stepped up onto the boat, the above combination of factors shifted the top out of place, and out popped a breast.

Oops, wardrobe malfunction.

Mr Boo was stunned. Thankfully only he and one of the local guides who helped me up witness this momentous event. Hurriedly, but as nochalantly as I could, I covered up. Mr Boo turned red (embarrassment, not anger), but I was relatively ok. I was more grateful for the fact that the bunch of Caucasians who were with us, especially the well-endowed ladies did not see my disgrace. Imagine them thinking, “Huh, so small???”

This was not the first time it happened.

During our last trip to Bali with our gay pals S & J - the same thing happened while we were swimming (in the case of Mr and I - floating) in the luxurious pools in Ritz Carlton. When my nipple popped out accidentally, three pairs of eyes were staring at me. Mr Boo looked horrified and looked as if he did not know whether to lunge over and cover the offending tit (with his hand) or pretend that nothing happened. J looked vaguely disgusted but started giggling, and whispered something to S (hopefully not pointing out the mole on my tit). Strangely enough, I was calm and cool even though this was the first time someone else other than Mr Boo saw my sacred nipples, and went about leisurely adjusting the damn bikini (same one) back to the right place. Afterall, unlikely that either S or J would be titillated by my tits right? S confirmed my suspicions with his next words. After staring for a while, he burst out.

“Is that all? My nipples are much bigger than yours!” He started heaving his monstrous chest and played with his jiggly breasts.

Indeed, his nipples (and breasts) were substantially larger than mine.

And I don’t know if I should be amused or offended.

P.S Mr Boo thinks I should change the bikini. But I don’t think I would be going swimming anywhere anytime soon……

Never knew doing retail is so exhausting. I thought I was mentally prepared. Obviously not. Standing for most of our operating hours between 11am to 9.30pm is no joke. Contantly talking to walk-in customers trying to convince them to buy our products is a thirsty exercise. I take my dinner now at 10pm every night. Already working 2 and a half days, and I have lost 1kg. My bones ache, and I have no mood to do anything including blogging. I have an incomplete draft post on my Phuket trip (and some still in my mind) and I don’t know when I can finish.

If this continues, I don’t think I will have the energy to have sex with Mr Boo. And I told him as much. At this rate, even once a week sounds too much. Poor Mr Boo! And poor me! I hope he doesn’t go find another substitute…..hehe. But I trust him.

Well readers, apologies to you in advance. My posts are likely to become erratic until I am well-adjusted to my current schedule.

Cheers and God Bless.

Dear Mrs Poons, thank you for missing me. It’s great to know that I am still wanted. Hehe…

And yes, it was indeed an enjoyable shag fest and a much needed break for me. Probably the last one in a very long time. And now I am working fulltime, 7 days a week, 11am - 9.30 pm everyday. Shudder.

I will try to blog regularly where I can - despite the dearth of readers (Mr Boo has over 600 hits now!!). Blogging is cathartic, and good for de-stressing, I think.

Lots of interesting things happened over the last few days and I need to gather my thoughts somewhat. So look out for more posts coming your way!

Dear Ghostly Readers

I will be taking a few days holiday along the golden coasts of Thailand starting tomorrow, for a nice shag fest with Mr Boo, before returning and camping full time at my retail store. Obviously there will be no chance of me blogging during then, so don’t miss me too much.

Then again, in view that I have hardly anybody visting this website, I doubt anyone will miss me too much.

Till a few days later - adios!
Forever Yours
Mrs Boo

I like watching soccer - but I hate following Mr Boo’s underachieving club - Newcastle United or Magpies or Toons (whatever). It’s agonising following their defeats and since my nervous system is already on the verge of breaking down, following their downs and downs (zero ups this season so far), will likely give me a heart attack.

But now, they have signed on a cutie who plays very well too - Michael Owen. So now there is a reason to start watching soccer again…….

By the way, he is only a youthful 25……. (rub hands in glee)