Saturday Night Fever.

It’s not what you think.

Definitely not the movie starring John Travolta. And it definitely has nothing to do with the Bee Gees’ song either.

It was the first thought that came to mind when I came down with high fever last night. I still have no idea what the cause of the fever was but before dinner, I had quite a tummy upset. I was due to have dinner with a friend and her husband, and there was no way I’d let a stomach ache get in between that.

So I went along anyway, despite the discomfort and uneasiness. Dinner at the Japanese restaurant, Rakuzen, had a waiting list of 15 minutes and within that time, I’d had gone to the ladies twice. I felt weak and dizzy but I pressed on. My friend and her husband were due to fly back to Roswell this Tuesday and my husband and I wanted to have this one last dinner with them before they left.


I even had time to purchase a couple of 0.1 Shachihata Artline Drawing System pens for my bullet journaling at MPH!

Eventually, we were called to the restaurant but by then, I was already reeling and a bit like a tipsy drinker on the borderline of actually being drunk. I relied heavily on the steaming hot mug of Japanese green tea to keep me sitting upright. Food arrived but I could only eat slowly and carefully, afraid that I would get heartburn if I ate too fast. We carried on having our spiritual conversation (our topic for the night), sharing stories and exchanging experiences.

We paid the bill, took a group photo and left for home. Dazed and disoriented, I sat in the front passenger seat while my husband took the wheel, we continued our conversation in the car. I listened more than I spoke for I was trying to stay awake. We reached the condo where my friend and her husband stayed with her parents while they were here in Malaysia for a month (which had passed since their arrival on June 4th. We climbed out of the car, hugged and exchanged pleasantries. There were more things to be said, all the while I was steadying myself with the car.

And then my husband and I left for our home.

By the time we got back, the clock showed 11:30pm. I had no strength left so I took to the bed. With my phones in hand, I lay down on my back wondering what was going on with me. By midnight, I had run a fever. Perhaps, I thought, some sleep would help me. I tried to sleep, almost didn’t, but I did in the end.

I was still sound asleep at 3:00am when my temperature hit 39 degrees. My body ached all over, as if I’d completed a high-intensity interval training with weights, and felt like it was on fire. I shivered under three layers of blankets in our air-conditioned bedroom. I hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep just yet, out of fear that I wouldn’t wake up the next day. Who knows how devastating high fevers can be.

Hot from my head to toe, I roused my husband to get me some Panadol. Two pills I popped but I couldn’t go back to sleep just yet. I’m a light sleeper, see. We talked a bit before I finally fell asleep at 5:00am. It could have been food poisoning that brought on the fever. But what had I eaten wrong, I have no idea.

Just before I fell asleep, I said to my husband: “I had Saturday night fever.”


Terrible! That’s What It Was.

Worst Movie Ever

There are many things that can frustrate me and drive me up the wall. One of it is an online game that my husband introduced me to. Often, I’d find my character being killed off over and over again, despite the endless streams of health and mana potions. I end up telling myself that if I ever died again (my game character, that is), I’m going to quit the game.

But I never do. I stubbornly replay that round until I win. My husband calls me ‘tenacious’. I think I’m just stubborn and refuse to give up.

But my tenacity didn’t spill over to the books I read and the movies I watch. I don’t enjoy giving up on books that were dull or uninteresting. I’d still press on, stubbornly again, struggling to finish them. But I’m not perfect. I’m only human. And I have stopped reading books that were uninteresting. Two or three, I think. I’m more careful now when it comes to buying books. Goodreads and Amazon are two of my most trusted sites to go to when it comes to researching a book prior to buying it. Amazon, because it lets me read the first few pages of a book to see if I liked what I saw.

Movies, however, are a little different. No amount of official trailers on YouTube, rotten tomatoes or IMDB reviews could help prepare me for the worst movie of my life.

During my courtship years with my then-boyfriend (now-husband), we went to watch a fantasy movie. I can’t remember the name but I knew there were knights, horses, a king and a kingdom, and quite possibly a dragon in it as well. The timeline of the movie was also set during the medieval era. Oh, the movie was so boring! It started out quite slowly, with too much talk and not enough action. The acting was flat. I didn’t even recognise any of the actors and actresses! I sat there, staring blankly at the big screen for at least a quarter way into the movie before I finally decided to call it quits.

Yes, I walked out of the cinema. And that was the only time I ever walked out of a cinema hall before the end of a movie. Even the cinema hall wasn’t packed like a can of sardines like it usually was. The lack of movie-goers made the cinema hall quite cold. I could feel the chill despite wearing my jeans-and-sweater combo.

Needless to say, I’ve also become more careful when it comes to watching movies today. I didn’t want to waste time and money for a movie that wasn’t worth it. Thankfully, at that time, movie tickets didn’t cost a bomb. Also, in this day and age, if you did miss a movie you wanted to watch or thought would be great, you could always download it or stream it and watch it in your own time.

What about you? Have you ever walked out of a movie before?

Book Review: The Last Innocent Hour by Margot Abbott.

the-last-innocent-hour-by-margot-abbottNo. of Pages: 599 pages (although in iBooks, it was shown as 1,251 pages)

Publisher, Date: Sand Hill Review Press, June 2017

Author: Margot Abbott

Setting: Berlin, Germany

SynopsisIt is 1946 and Berlin is a ruined city, the Nazis vanquished, but memories of the city in 1934 haunt Sally as she returns to investigate war crimes as an army intelligence officer. Her father was the American ambassador to the new Third Reich and Sally was too naïve to understand the corruption and depravity underneath the shiny surface of banners and marching men. Childhood summers at a Bavarian lake made her believe she knew Germany. 

Her job, which helps expiate her old guilt, is analyzing photographs; she is no longer innocent of the evil done by the Nazis. In the American sector offices, Sally finds friendship with the other members of her unit, especially with Tim Hastings. His easy, relaxed friendship is a balm to her frozen heart. She does fear he will despise her when he learns about her past, especially her marriage to Christian Mayr, an SS officer. 

He was a rising officer under the command of General Reinhard Heydrich, chief of the dreaded secret police. Apparently supporting the young couple, Heydrich’s manipulations instead tore them apart, nearly taking Sally’s life, certainly shredding her soul. She does not know what happened to Christian. 

Sally studies a series of pictures documenting a wartime atrocity, a reprisal by the Nazis after the 1942 assassination of Heydrich. Stunned, Sally believes she can recognize the SS commander as her husband. It is logical that Mayr was sent to revenge his chief. 

But Christian was also Sally’s loyal childhood friend, and then her passionate husband. Sally believed in Christian, in their love and she believed that Berlin and Heydrich could not touch them. Now, in 1946, she understands love does not always triumph, but how could Christian have become the man in the photograph? And is he still alive?

There’s one thing you should know about me.

Make me watch a horror film, I’ll sit as far at the back of the cinema as possible with my eyes closed and my fingers shoved into my ears.

But give me a historical fiction novel on World War 2 and I’ll be glued to the book. I will stop to eat (though sleeping in questionable as I’ve sacrificed sleep before just for the sake of reading) until I’m done. Yup, that’s me. For some unknown reason, I’m able to read and digest the terror and destruction wrought upon mankind by the Nazis or the Japanese, the torture and suffering faced by the prisoners-of-war (POWs). But horror flicks have left me terrifed at night, unable to even use the toilet out of fear that there is something waiting to get me.

So here’s what I have today. The Last Innocent Hour by author Margot Abbott was, by far, the most emotional novel I’ve ever read during the World War 2 timeline. It was painful to read mostly because of Sally Jackson’s (the main female character) involvement with her childhood sweetheart, Christian Mayr. Now that wouldn’t have been a problem if he wasn’t drafted into Hitler’s world as an SS officer. Sally Jackson is the daughter of Lowell Jackson, an American ambassador in Berlin, and falsely believes that her position could protect her from the wily charms of the SS General Reinhard Heydrich, Christian’s boss.

All’s fair in love and war could have been the only tagline in Heydrich’s head. After all, he was the mastermind behind all the gross atrocities towards the Jews and he does have the last say of what Christian Mayr should or shouldn’t be doing. If Sally wanted nothing but love from Christian, then Heydrich would do anything to make sure it happened. Of course, having a German police general as your matchmaker is the last thing you’d want. But Sally just couldn’t stay away from it all, and it was her naivety and gullibility that led to her downfall.

I’ve taken a long break from reading anything to do with World War 2. Only because the books tend to mess with my mind. But I do kind of miss it, really. Like I mentioned above, it is strange how I can tolerate reading so much of this suffering, torture, pain and death surrounding this dreadful period. How dark and depressing it was back then. But I found it hard to put the book down.

One thing did cross my mind about The Last Innocent Hour, though. The total number of pages given in iBooks was 1,251 pages. However, on Goodreads, it was 599 pages. I’m not sure what’s up but 599 pages is nowhere near 1,251 pages. Although reaching page 599 or 600 would just mean I’m halfway through reading the book.

As I neared the end of the story, I realised how far I’ve come and it has been a turbulent, rollercoaster ride of emotions. It was the most painful story I’ve read in 2018. Dramatic, yes, I know it’s just a story but the author was pretty good! The way the story was written left me reeling. The book made me feel so much for Sally Jackson that after awhile I had to take a break from reading. Imagine sticking your head down into the Pensieve only to have all sorts of nasty things exploding in front of your eyes. I had been so sure that Sally and Christian would rise from their doom. Then I wasn’t so sure anymore.

It took me a little over four days to finish reading this. I found it hard to tear myself away and even if I did, just for awhile, I found myself being dragged back into the plot. Sally and Christian’s relationship was doomed from the start the moment the latter grew up into a fine young man. Sally had been too trusting to notice the cracks forming and even if she did, she couldn’t call it off for the sake of her own sanity. Instead, she got drawn in deeper and deeper into a labyrinth of lies and deception. At first, I thought she was being silly. I did tire of her stupidity and blindness to the SS General’s dirty tricks. But even I had begun to ask the same questions as Sally had in her head. Was Christian for real? Or was he just following the general’s orders? Eventually, I got as confused as Sally. Did he truly love her as he claimed to have?

The book was so enthralling and captivating. It hooked me in right from the start. Margot Abbott is a truly remarkable author. Her writing style made me feel as if I was another character in the book with everyone else. It made me feel the way Sally felt. Long after finishing the book, I coulnd’t determine if I was still in the book or came back to reality. I should have pinched myself.