It is drizzling at 3pm and this is the number of things I have to get done before heading out the door in 3 hours, impeccably dressed for Dot Cod, the fishy dinner place in Prince Building where GlaMum could possibly bump into someone she knows from her previous work life:
Walk JD in the rain. Eat something to make up for passing a slice of pizza off as lunch. Bathe and dress Rockstar. Set up something entertaining so he will let me go for dinner. Throw on something fabulous.
So here goes – there should be proverbial swooshes as JD capers out the door, into the service lift and out into the field with me. If we lived in a cartoon. Definitely swooshes. It’s sticky-wet out; warm enough that you’ll break a sweat, but still drizzling rain.
Frizzy-furred, drizzled-upon dog
An hour later my hair is wet, plastered to my face with sweat and frizzed from humidity and my natural disdain for umbrellas. JD plops down in a satisfied damp tangle of wet fur for a nap. I spray sanitizer on her paws.
2 hours to go.
Put a cake of Maggie noodles (like many Malaysians I grew up eating “Maggie mee” and will have no other if I have a choice) and hot water in the microwave. Eat banana. Decide on my outfit: black Prada knee-length dress with a strong shoulder and chunky necklace. But I can’t decide which necklace and shoes – the gold snakeskin Pradas or the Louboutin look-alikes with peep-toe I had tailor-made at Lippo Center (at less than half the price of the Real Thing) in glossy dark green snakeskin with Louboutin-esque red sole (the whole reason I made them). The bib necklace with lime-green plastic “jewels” or the Kenneth Jay Lane giant white plastic “tusk” pendant. I want the bib but Harper’s Bazaar US edition says bibs are out. Turn on tv and eat noodles on floor while watching E! highlights of Demi Moore’s red carpet styleShower, blow-dry hair, put on bit of makeup. Begin running bath for Rockstar.
1 hour to go.
Rockstar comes home from pre-school. Says “no, thank you” to bath. Together we stick two magnetic notice boards to the fridge (because I bought two large tubs of alphabet magnets only to find they don’t stick to our fridge door) Casually change Rockstar’s diaper and – what’s this? A tub full of water! What fun, let’s get in! Finish makeup while Rockstar splashes about in tubDry Rockstar off, dress him, introduce him to the tubs of alphabet magnets. Throw on dress, put on and take off both necklaces several times before settling on the lime green bib one (sorry Harper’s). Put on gold Pradas at the door, solely because I’m now five minutes late and can walk faster in those. Rockstar gives a half-hearted “want to come with mummy” before turning back to his alphabet magnets.
Ta-daa..! And GlaMum is off for another charming evening as lady-who-dinners-at-dot cod. I get out of the cab at the swanky Mandarin Oriental and cut thru the lobby. And bump into my former boss at HSBC. We haven’t seen each other in years. He would remember me as the eager-beaver he hired in Singapore. Who always wore suits. And a Tony and Guy pixie cut (to date, my hair hasn’t been cut in 3 months). He was a real stickler for dress code. He also gave me my first real break in the banking world. He kisses me on both cheeks, we chat awhile, he says “Well, you look like a movie star.”
GlaMum almost reveals her true identity. But with an enigmatic smile, she turns and climbs the curved stairs of the Mandarin. She’s walking taller and there’s a spring in her step as she briskly passes elegantly dressed guests who look fabulous in the glow of chandelier light. People dressed impeccably in suits, headed for the cigar bar downstairs to close some high-powered deal. But inside, she’s jumping up and down screaming “Yippeee!”