Today is one of those days whereby I have simply lost interest in everything. It is not a mood swing. I mean, yesterday was a very happy day. I had some really good phone calls. I teared a bit when speaking with my mom, whom I have not called for a very long time. I did not call after my dad’s heart-related operation. At some point, I was fed up with my dad. According to mom, after the operation, the nurse said to my dad, “Now you have a new heart (note: more like new lease of life because not all Cantonese phrases can be taken literally), start anew and treat the people around you nicely.” One fine day, my dad took the nurse’s advice and thanked my mom for looking after him telling her that the meal that she cooked was good.
Oh. My. God.
That was just shocking. So un-dad-like. So yes, near-death experience does change people. I just hope that people don’t need to go through that just to change. At that moment of hearing the story on the phone, I dropped a tear or two. Happy tears. Mom being mom – true to Hong Kong culture – dramatized the whole operation. According to her – and I am pretty sure she wasn’t there to witness the operation – when the doctor made a cut into my dad’s artery, with blood shooting out everywhere and onto the doctor’s coat, the doctor only had a few second to complete the operation and close the wound.
Wow. So dramatic!
Yesterday was a happy day. Dancing to TWICE’s I Can’t Stop Me, which is incredibly hard. Having some discounted Sauvignon Blanc from NTUC – a night of volume over quality, which wasn’t that bad (of course not as good as the French wine I have). Played some music, which was probably one of my better performance in recent days. I was satisfied.
All in all, yesterday was a happy day speaking on the phone at the balcony watching the moon hanging on a cloudy sky while enjoying the cool breeze of a November evening in Singapore.
Today is not like I am sad or unhappy. Just general loss of interest in things. I have tried very hard to put on a happy face at work, which is part of my job because I realize that my mood does affect people and stakeholders around me in a rather profound way. That must have zapped all my energy. I tried to watch TV and there was nothing interesting. I tried to play music but my performance wasn’t even close to what I had yesterday. Tonight dinner is a repeat of yesterday. US election was kind of interesting at the start of the day. But now, it has become a waiting game. I stared at my phone. The right message hasn’t come through yet.
I wanted to doodle. I thought of a title thanks to a recent life event, “No King Reigns Forever”. Then I contemplated swapping ‘king’ with ‘ruler’ to be gender-neutral (on my mind, the viewer will not be able to tell anyway). Afterward, I thought, why not do a “No Queen Reigns Forever” as I wanted to write an associated story. I have the concept of a young and beautiful Queen gradually losing her physical and mental abilities but her knights still wanted her to reign because … [note: I don’t know yet]. To maintain a functional Queen – at least in the eyes of the people when they occasionally see her, the knights have to … [note: I also don’t know this part yet]. And then there is a cool ending. Or rather, I must have a cool ending, in which I don’t know what it is yet.
Since I still haven’t got the inspiration for writing the story, I returned to the conceptualization of the doodle. A non-functioning Queen at her throne with a bowing head, one hand holding a scepter, and one foot stepping out of reality hanging onto her last breath of life. But what should be the illusion that sustains her vitals?
I. Don’t. Know. Yet.
Such is the journey of art, on a day of weariness.
At times, a relationship may seemingly look dead. Perhaps it is a process that happens over a long time. Or all of a sudden, he or she may say, let’s not see each other again. Other life priorities may have taken over. A variable added to the equation.
And etc.
All it takes is for one event to happen or a decision to be made. Like a phoenix that rises from ashes, it burns the status quo. But that also allows life to be spawned. The old turn into ashes. The new, reborn.
In the past week, I have been waking up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep, and only dozed off as the sun rose. Coffee in the morning can help to stay awake. Wine in the evening can help to relax. But it gets tiring.
Last night, perhaps I went to sleep slightly happier. Or it could also due to the pink noise played through my Sonos speaker. Instead of waking up with eyes wide opened, I have a lot of intermittent sleeping cycles. Each comes with a dream. I tried to count each time I woke up. Around 10 dreams.
Now, I can’t remember all the dreams I had last night. Each was short, like a clip taken from a TV drama. All the characters came from people whom I know from work. That reminds me, a while back, I dreamed of a project outing to a holiday island. My team was there. My project accountable executive was also there in his colorful summer and beach attire (with a hat!). I was sharing an apartment with a few others. We toured the island, did group activities during the day. At night, I met a few of them and watched fireworks. The dream was so vivid that I still remember a lot of the details today.
So back to last evening, the dreams were bizarre because first, the same person, she appears in almost all the clips; and second, some clips actually refer to the previous clips! It is unusual to have dreams telling a similar or cohesive story and as one wakes up in between. When was the last time you woke up from a dream, remembered your dream, returned to your sleep, and continue your dream from where it left off?!
I am not a scientist who specialized in analyzing dreams. From my extensive dreaming experience, most of the time, dreams are made of fragments of our physical and emotional experience, including our fear and desire, from what we see and what we perceive. I am not entirely convinced that dreams can be prophetic in nature. But never say never, I guess.
Quite a few of the clips last night happened in Sentosa. Now, truth be told, that place looked nothing like Sentosa. It was more like a much quieter version of Hong Kong Repulse Bay (triggered by the upcoming SG-HK travel bubble?) mashed with a bit of Kent Ridge Guild House (recently had dinner with friends there). Beautiful oceans, on an elevated hill, overseeing a setting sun. Dinner. A walk around the island. Always with the same person with a blue dress. I was happy.
The last clip, though, was disturbing.
It was in an office with a very posh and spacious lobby. Natural light floods from the surrounding ground to ceiling glasses. Very much like a Korean drama.
Everything was white in color. Even the long bench that I was supposed to sharing a temporary working space with two others from work.
I was in the washroom doing my business. One female colleague opened the door ajar, peeped in, and asked if I have seen so-and-so. I looked around and couldn’t see anyone.
Then, we heard a voice. One cubicle door opened! The female colleague entered and I saw this male colleague of mine changing with just a long T-shirt on, strategically covering his private parts.
How could I possible dream such dream?!
Then I remember, last evening as I was chatting with my friend N, she collects figurines. They are called the Sonny Angels. Please. Don’t. Judge.
I haven’t met S for a long time, even way before the whole Covid-19 lockdown. We have known each other for 15 years. She is someone whom I can talk with, on anything and everything. Likewise. I to her.
I have tried to reach out to her for ages. But she has been busy with her career and Covid-19 turns her into a hermit, which doesn’t help. One fine day, she asked if we could meet up for lunch. With remote working, it is hard to meet people during lunch. Traveling to meet. The endless meetings. I hardly have time to eat in peace these days. How to find time to meet people during lunch?
So I proposed dinner. Since we live near to each other, I suggested Wine Connection at Robertson Quay. She counter-suggested Tiong Bahru Merci Marcel, a French restaurant that she hasn’t visited for a long time.
Sure! Merci Marcel is within walking distance from my home.
We opened a bottle of red wine. S was surprised that I drink (more so because we rarely meet for dinner and look, I don’t drink during lunch hours at work). Uh-huh. The dinner was really good. The wine collection, more to the expensive end, is varied and interesting. I would definitely revisit.
So we chatted. I enjoy chatting. Her dad recently passed away. I felt sad for her. She cried a little. My heart ached a little. I envy how her parents were used to be so loving together, all the way till old age. I wish my parents have such a blessed happy marriage.
I am someone who excels at compartmentalizing my life. There is work. And there is life. There is this vast majority of space I share with my wife. And there is this space of mine. I have different types of friends whom I can talk with, in different compartments of my life.
Unconscious restlessness, she said to me.
The great thing about chatting – at least to me – is that it is liberating. I am a man, yes. But deep inside, I am feminine. We don’t need to solve every jigsaw puzzle in life. We talk. We listen. The entire process may not solve anything. But it is liberating. We feel better afterward.
After dinner, S called a cab. And I saw her off. I have this weird feeling whereby, what if this was the last time we meet? After all, people drift away from each other. Just when she stepped into the cab – an image forever burned into my mind, there was lightning and thunder. Rain would soon come and I still needed to walk home.
Fortunately, I reached home right before the sky poured. This time, I am not drenched.
On a separate note, one good friend of mine at work – J – is retrenched. I feel for her. I know her boss well too. I said to her, I reckon it wasn’t easy for her boss too, to make that decision (I have made those decisions in the past and decisions in the past had also been made onto me). In the end, it is business. Work is work. J is the least experienced in her team. I can understand why her boss has to make that decision, despite how close they are at work.
It is business.
Compartmentalize things in life makes life easier.
We talked. And she confessed that she is not really good at her job, as yet. I said to her, find your strengths at work and work on that. Don’t waste time doing things you are not good at.
Good thing though, because J is a Singaporean. She enters a program whereby our company will place her into another part of the organization for reskilling for one year. If J is unable to find another role during that period, she will be retrenched for good.
Today, her boss called and wanted to extend her for another month.
W. T. H.?!
She felt obliged to be extended. I was like, look J, the team doesn’t want you. There is no future in what you do. Quickly find a new role and build your network. Use the time and find yourself another job!
I never look back on those who abandon me. Or those who don’t want me no more.
I hope in life, everything is as simple as calling a tow truck. I hope in life, money fixes everything. Unfortunately, they don’t. But in the context of my car, they do.
Yesterday, I wanted to visit Art Friends at Bras Basah Complex and buy a pen to doodle. I still have A3 papers, though they turn somewhat yellow after years of not doodling. It doesn’t bother me. Because even when I paint on brand new white papers, years later, they will turn yellow. Time leaves marks. To papers, and to hearts.
When my wife and I got into our car, it could not start. Oh great. This week sucks. And this adds to a list of bad news that actually looks pretty good okay on its own. Because (1) we live near town and can take public transport and (2) the first paragraph of this blog entry.
I was and still am in fact pretty chill about a malfunctioning car sitting in the carpark of our condo. We hardly drive. This morning, I emailed Mazda with a short video clip on how I could not start the car.
They called and told me that very likely, it was due to a battery issue. Mazda then referred me to a third party for help. I called the third party and was given two options (because I asked for it, job hazard). Option one, pay $60 for a mechanic to jump start my car and if that doesn’t work, call a tow truck (with extra cost). Or option two, pay $80 for a tow truck straight the way.
Or option three, I call one of my subordinates at work to help me jump start my car after work because (1) I have the cables and (2) I know how because I have helped others before. But I chose not to abuse my power (kekeke). Do I want to gamble on option one, still have to drive to the service center, go through the paperwork, and take a cab home? Or pay an extra $20 to save some time?
Money does fix something. And while we were at it, why not do a car servicing as well since my car is due for one?
The tow truck came and I recorded the entire episode on video, waved at the driver multiple times with my big smile (I was actually happy at those moments, which was welcoming).
Hours later, the service center called me and informed me that the battery was weak caused by the extremely low millage. Apparently, I need to drive at least 30 minutes for the alternator to charge the battery.
The challenge is, most of my return trips are less than 30 minutes. And we hardly drive. The question would then be: why do we still need a car?
Why do we want anything in life anyway?
Late afternoon, the service center called and informed me that my car was still on the queue for car wash. This might take some time. My reply was that it is really no hurry. Let’s do that tomorrow instead.
This morning, I woke up. I had a strong desire to doodle. There were things on my mind I needed to articulate. That’s how I cope with things.
What I wanted to articulate was that there are two types of people. One who rationalizes and analyzes the past history, present situation, and future possible outcomes before opening doors of possibilities. The other type would not think too much and keep as many doors opened as possible. There is no right or wrong answer here. Just difference in approach.
Centered to this doddle is one giant door that leads to nine doors. Why nine? In Chinese culture, the number nine symbolizes eternity, or in this case, infinity. It forms the universe we are currently living in (hence the trees and hills).
On the right, are cards of infinite possibilities. The outcomes are unknown. They are blank. Only time will tell what they are.
On the left, the focal point is the person, standing on top of an hour glass. Time is running out. Quick, make decisions! Wrapped around the person and the hour glass is a dual-symbol. It is a question mark. The person is thinking. It is also a serpent. There are temptations and risks as the person is staring into opportunities.
Lastly, observing this doodle from left to right first is a car. It represents the modern world, reality, technology, and hence, logic. In the middle are doors, but they are also metaphors. On the right, the concept further breaks into abstraction.
It is a journey from reality into abstraction, from the known into the unknown.
This morning, I had a chat with my boss at work. He is leaving. That is super sad. It is always very upsetting to see good guys get the short end of the stick. We talked. We WhatsApp. And there are things that I can’t share here.
This afternoon, I met with my ex-boss from Accenture. For more than 20 years we have known each other, we keep in touch. Intercontinental hotel, he has a discount to dine at Ash and Elm. He loves fine dining. Or dining, period. He loves to dine. Ash and Elm, is terrible. The food is just not good. My friend thought he had ordered pork knuckle and hickory chicken. As it turned out, it was pork knuckle pizza and hickory chicken pizza. WTF?! The menu was misleading. We couldn’t finish the food. My friend was deeply disappointed. He packed the leftover food home. Despite the dining experience, I really enjoyed catching up with my friend. He asked if he has lost weight. I chuckled and said no. He rolled his eyes. Deep inside, he has become more fit. But, still has chubby cheeks.
This evening, I have received a heartfelt email from my subordinate who is leaving my team and moving onto a better future, a much bigger role. I truly am happy for her. I have watched her grow, for two years. I have – or at least I think I have – provided a nurturing environment for her to grow. Looking at her, she is a miracle. She thanked me. Deep inside, I have her to thank. Because I know I have done something extraordinary, that I can do it. I can do it. Sad though, if I am honest with myself.
On a different but relevant topic, have you ever encounter someone who makes you lose your mind?
This morning, one of my songs kept on playing in my head. The song title is Addictively Beautiful. Part of the lyrics go something like:
You live to have that last dance You live to have that last kiss You live to see that last smile So addictively beautiful
Excerpt from my song #133 titled Addictively Beautiful written on Oct 26th, 2005
The beauty of having more than 160 songs written by myself is that this collection of songs is very much customized to who I am. Some are inspired by my then observation. Some are derived from my experience, which not surprisingly, history often repeats itself. Because it is who I am. Some are prophetic, that is, songs that were written in the past that somewhat accurately predict the future. Some are just so random. This collection is often relevant, timeless.
Today I am on leave. Another day of reflection. A day of melancholy. I can’t help but think of all the ‘lasts’. The last time I saw that someone. The last time I saw that smile. The last time we had that hug. And the last time I had that kiss.
I thought of the last time I saw my distant cousin in Paris, many, many years ago. I was young. She was older. It was a train station. Or it could have been Metro. She waved at me, with a bitter smile. The long black coat she was wearing. I waved back at her. I was on my way to Montreal, Canada. Through the intervention of my families in Canada and France, my distant cousin and I did not manage to meet after that sent off. We wrote, snail mails. I have not heard from her since then. For someone who has sacrificed her youth and marriage in order to take care of her parents as in, her parents forbid her to get married – is so unfair. But it was her decision. After all, we adults make decisions. And we adults live with the consequences.
Till today, I would go back to that scene from time to time. I would not have known that was the last time I see her. Had I known, what would I have done differently?
When I left Oxford after my graduation heading to Singapore for my career, it was an interesting time. Hong Kong returned to China that year. But I have long decided to leave Hong Kong to follow my heart to the one I loved. She left the UK months before me because I stayed back to cycle with my then-bestie-turned-not-bestie from Oxford to Edinburgh camping along the way.
And when I left Oxford that morning, at the bus station, another of my bestie Toby turned up and sent me off. I was in my brown leather jacket and he was in his black one. Back then, we were kids. We tried to look cool. He put gel onto his hair. Clean look. I just didn’t care about mine. I was alone and he was there. Gosh, till today, I still miss him. How would I know that the next time I visited Oxford was 24 years later? But we have lost touch. You would have thought through social media, we would have reconnected. But nope. Nada. That was the last time I saw his face. Had I known, what would I have done differently?
The list goes on.
The answer is … nothing.
Unless, I treat every moment as if it was the last. And I should. I will. I am.
It’s so lonely, me without you I’m so lonely, on a night without anyone Only holding onto lonely memories Every day, I’m waiting for you
Excerpt from Lucia’s Without You
It is a soundtrack for a Korean drama The Bride of Habaek. I truly adore the Korean actress Shin Se-kyung. More often than not, females in Korea dramas portrait as the weaker ones, who need men. But Shin Se-kyung’s TV-series often are the opposite. Like Rookie Historian Goo Hae-ryung. She has a YouTube channel too. Her voice is so soothing.
Recently, I have been listening to GFriend’s Yuju’s cover of Downtown Baby by Bloo on repeat. It is one of those rare songs (1) with good music, (2) is melancholy, (3) has a beautiful female voice (yes, I am biased), (4) sang by erm a beautiful girl, and (5) … is a song that can put me in a trance. Music that evokes emotion. Deep emotion. I feel alone when listening to it. I feel lonely when listening to it.
Last Friday, it was one of those rare moments when I was on leave and my wife wasn’t. Both of us are working remotely. We share the same workspace – home. She was working. I wasn’t. And it was one of those rare days when I didn’t need to speak. During working days, I talk the entire day, endless meetings. It was refreshing not need to talk. Funny thing though, one colleague at work commented that I talked too much.
Like. I. Wanna.
FFS, I even hate listening to my own voice at work. Things I said at work, either bored people or hurt people’s feeling. Because it is business. Work is just, work.
When I don’t need to speak, I self-reflect, listen to my inner voice. As a migrant to a country I wasn’t born into, left home with very little friends, if not for my wife, I would have been all alone. Making friends after graduation … I mean, making real and true friends at work is almost impossible. Work is an entity. People interact to make a living. Seldom people sacrifice for each other, do things for each other without strings attached. It is always down to, what’s in it for me?
Sure, I have made some friends in our decades of career. Those who stay on, may well be close to none. But that doesn’t stop me from desperately want to reach out, want to believe that it is possible to meet true and real friends at work. Don’t stop trying. When you do, you lose hope.
The most desirable things in life are those you can’t have.
Listening to Yuju’s cover of Downtown Baby, it is as though I am being transported into an alternate reality whereby, I am alone.
My parents live in a different country, whom I seldom contact. My sister lives in the same country like mine, whom I seldom meet. Perhaps this alternate reality is my reality.
Back to the topic of this blog entry, I really wish that this cover music was on Spotify. Putting a song on repeat is so painfully manual on YouTube. I wish that Yuju does more cover, even has her solo career. I love GFriend. But she is the best of all. I wish that I had her vocal skill. I wish …
Like I said, the most desirable things in life are those you can’t have.
Hello my friends. I have a few random things to share.
Hamilton is Really A Class of His Own
One may say that Formula One is boring because Mercedes wins all the recent championships. I don’t see it that way. To me, it is how the team wins that makes the viewing – or these days, reading (as it is getting expensive to watch a full race) – experience memorable and magical.
Hamilton is a true racer. He enjoys wheel-to-wheel fight on track; he enjoys catching up from behind in a championship. Being a six-time F1 World Champion at the age of 34, many would expect him to equal Schumacher’s record this year.
The stars seemed to have aligned. It is still the old rule and Mercedes dominates in this era. Bottas is still his teammate and unlike Rosberg, Bottas has integrity (i.e. nothing dirty on track). Mercedes even comes up with a brand new technology called Dual-Axis Steering (DAS) this season. This allows the driver to slide the steering wheel forward and backward and alter the toe of the car during racing. This technology was heavily challenged by rival teams.
DAS deems legit this year. But with Covid-19, at one point, it was not obvious if we would have a 2020 championship.
Fortunately, we do. Not unexpectedly, Hamilton lost the first race in Austria on July 5th earning only 12 points finishing at forth compared to his teammate who won and earned 25 points. Since then, Hamilton took three poles and three wins. It was raining on the Styrian circuit and Hamilton took pole with 1.216 seconds ahead of the best of the rest. It was in Britain and Hamilton took the win after a dramatic tyre failure at his final lap.
Some may say Hamilton is a lucky driver. I would say, you can’t be a Word Champion with bad luck all the time. But you can’t win a championship without some serious skill and talent.
To Quote Pyper in My Diablo 3 Clan: “And You Listened to StraightDope?”
For those who are not familiar with Diablo 3 (“D3”), it is an action role-playing game. In a nutshell, you hack-and-slash monsters day in and day out to be more skillful, more powerful.
For those who are not familiar with D3 seasons, it is very much like F1 championship. You start the season from scratch with zero progress. What you are given could be some redesigned items and/or mechanics, complete the season journey (a list of checkboxes), and try to push your character to as far as you can (you could compete with yourself, your clan, or the whole wide world).
D3 has a number of classes players can roll. The two weakest classes prior to season 21 in my opinion were Demon Hunter and Necromancer. This season 21 Trails of Tempests offers two new class sets for the two weakest classes in-game. The expectation was high. Most of the new class sets are great (if not, why bother?). Monk, Crusader, and Witch Doctor’s new sets are still powerful. Barbarian and Wizard new sets while so-so, they are playable and not terrible.
Demon Hunter’s new set Gears of Dreadlands (“GoD”) truly deserves the “Godly” status. When it first unveiled in Public Test Realm (“PTR”), which I participated in, it was terrible. Fans and testers provided feedback and in phase 2 of PTR, GoD has been redesigned and become godly.
Necromancer’s new set Masquerade of the Burning Carnival (“MotBC”) was also terrible when first appeared in PTR. Fans and testers including myself have also provided feedback. But there was very little to be done in PTR phase 2. And I have my theory on why: the failed season theme.
The theme of season 21 was terrible, and still is. The design is that every 90 seconds, a random elemental power would be unleashed. The visual effect is a distraction. The power vast majority of the time does nothing (and when it does – as I assume that it has to be at some point – I don’t notice any impact). There is a buff counter as mobs are killed. I doubt anyone would pay attention to it. This season mechanic is rumored to cause severe server lag and I have certainly experienced that. All in all, season 21 Trials of Tempest is a failure, a total and complete failure. The worst is that – now going back to my theory – it has taken away valuable development time as Blizzard team was trying their best to fix the season theme during PTR, valuable time that could have used to improve Necromancer’s MotBC. In Blizzard’s own words after throwing in the towel right before the start of season 21: With the adjustments coming in for a few past Necromancer sets and abilities, we will continue to evaluate the performance of the new set this season and may make additional adjustments in future seasons if we believe they are necessary.
Why investing time to fix the Demon Hunter and season theme but not Necromancer? It is simple. Everyone who plays D3 has access to Demon Hunter class and can experience the season theme. Only those who own the necromancer DLC has access to the new class set (read: not everyone). That is why.
In case you wonder, Pyper is our clan-mate from the US. StraightDope is my real life friend in Singapore, also in our clan. All four of us including my wife were supposed to roll a Demon Hunter and play GoD. But Dope wants diversity and convinced me to play the underwhelming Necromancer MotBC even though I have started my season with a Demon Hunter. When I told Pyper the story behind my choice, his first reaction was, “And you listened to StraightDope?”.
Oh yes, I embrace diversity, I welcome the challenge, and I am having fun … not!
Okay. It isn’t that bad. The struggle is real but that constant push to squeeze extra bits of performance is also real. I feel like I am piloting a Williams in F1.
I Love Hello Kitty & Aggretsuko But Vanilla & Chili Don’t Mix Well with Beer
At Cold Storage, I have stumbled upon cans of beer wrapped up with Hello Kitty and Aggretsuko artwork. The cans while somewhat looked cheap, they drew attention.
I am not really a fan of Hello Kitty. But I love Aggretsuko. The former comes in apple and vanilla flavors (described as creamy). The latter comes in chili flavor (described as spicy).
I am an adventurer and I love to try new things. So I bought six cans. Three each. The price tag in the supermarket said – or so I thought it said – S$7 for any two (usual price is S$7 for one). The final bill was somewhat confusing. I ended up having 20% discount over 4 cans of beer and 1-for-1 discount for 2 cans of beer.
Huh?
Whatever.
Let’s start with the Aggretsuko beer. It does have a clean lager taste. The spice makes it tastes weird. Not the bad kind of weird. Just weird, weird. The problem I have with this Hong Kong crafted beer is that, there is a lack of gas in the beer. The beer tastes flat.
As for the Hello Kitty beer, it is a no, no. In my mind, I was thinking of cider beer. After all, we are mixing apple with beer here. But this is no cider beer. In my mind, when I think of ‘creamy’ beer, I think of stout. This is no stout either. It is vanilla mixed with apple flavor delivered in a flat lager base.
Just, no.
My Favorite Topic: My Hairdresser and I
Regular visitors of my site would know the long history of my hairdresser and I that has span decades. So I won’t go there.
These days, our favorite topic is henna. She is intrigued by the fact that I apply henna to my wife’s hair every month and the leftover, my wife applies to my hair every two weeks. She has commented that the color on my hair doesn’t seem natural. Dark red would have been good but mine is orange.
I am actually fine with partially orange colored hair. It makes me look like someone coming out from an anime. In my most recent visit, she has recommended me to try mixing henna with coffee instead of tea.
We did that. And it was strange.
The smell was weird. Tea smells good on hair. Coffee smells funny on hair. And the result? Just as orange.