Squib sailing Sunday

Made the journey to Pulau Indah, home of the Peninsular Sailing Club Selangor to sail on a Squib with Eddy and Ain. I was so rusty, I need to soak in a WD-40 bath. Haha. Seriously, ikat bowline pun tak lepas!

We tried to help with the rigging and everything but the pakciks of PSC did most of the prep as it was our first time taking it out on our own. And we had Abang Amy onboard just in case.

I was helming, and was not very happy with how I did. Maybe we were too heavy at the stern, or maybe I am just shite. Am more inclined to believe the latter. I guess my confidence is still affected by the trauma of Langkawi. You need to be confident to helm a Platu and I’m not up to the task, yet. The pressure is too much, and half of it is probably my own fault because I make it difficult on my self. Hah.

All in all, the Squib is a good boat to train in. While it is still reactive to every move we make, it is much kinder compared to the Platu. The Squib is more like a keelboat-sized dinghy while the Platu is a pure racing boat.

I know I’ll need to get back to helming the Platu again. Soon, perhaps.

Let’s give ’em something to talk about

Team MY Gadis, January 2022

It has been two years since the team MY Gadis raced in the Royal Langkawi International Regatta 2020. One of the scariest things I’ve done in my life, definitely. To be part of this adventure and still charting its path onwards with really awesome people, it’s exciting and nerve wrecking at the same time.

The takeaway from that regatta and from the past year are plenty but we agreed that the main one is being picky is a good thing. We are blessed with supporters rooting for us, although the pressure is sometimes a bit heavy to carry.

May we be able to do what we set out to do.

Dreaming of Harlem

I’ve heard of the name Langston Hughes before but have never read anything of his. Today, in Brandon’s (Humans of New York) latest posts, his subject Mo spoke about this poem called Harlem, which was about deferred dreams.

Hughes wrote it as part of a collection of poems called Montage of a Dream Deferred and after reading Harlem, I feel like getting the book…

Harlem

By Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

      Does it dry up
      like a raisin in the sun?
      Or fester like a sore—
      And then run?
      Does it stink like rotten meat?
      Or crust and sugar over—
      like a syrupy sweet?

      Maybe it just sags
      like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Conversation starters in the times of Covid pt.I

Do you like Dalgona coffee?

Have you heard of Wordle?

Some days I think Grab is better than Food Panda but other days it’s the other way round.

I share a Netflix account with my sister.

Where did you buy that face mask? I love the colour.

Don’t buy x brand of self-test kits. They’re inaccurate.

Zoom meetings are so tiring!

I’ve figured out how to present a slide in Google Meet!

I’ve ran out of hand sanitiser. Can I have a bit of yours?

45

Stepping into my 45th year of life, I am grateful to have my favourite people around. There’s less personal drama, but stress is now a bigger problem to manage no thanks to the pandemic and work situation. It affects my health and that in turn is stressful to think about. What a cycle.

Still, it is about coping and trying not to fret on things I do not have control over (but idiots are STILL everywhere!).

Here is to another year.