Thanks, anger.

Once again, anger has helped me.

Badminton game.
Sifu refused to let me play with his team. Again, as usual, he pushed me to the other side of the court to play with the ladies.

Usually, I don't mind but not tonight. Because,

1. I paid to play in his court.
2. Ladies court is full.
3. I came early and should be given priority on who gets to play where.

Sifu insisted that his team is too fast for me. I insisted to try.

Sifu patronized me and reluctantly agreed to let me play the next game.

Next game came and I won one set out of the two sets I played with Sifu's players.

Fast? Fast my foot.

Anger. Anger prompted me to fight for the dignity of the ladies when I played against those men.

Thanks, anger.

You an artist?

What makes an artist, an artist?
I don’t believe that an artist need necessarily be economically underprivileged, misunderstood nor severely depressed.
I truly believe that an artist is simply a person who crafts his works according to his mind and heart.

The latest movie I’ve watched, The Producers, which is fantastic by the way, reassured my point of view. In the final part of the movie, the main characters were thrown into jail. They didn’t waste any time in making themselves useful there. They brought out the humane sides of the other convicts through their talents.

I’m looking so forward to the new Antonio Banderas movie, Take the Lead, which is also in the same direction of the message. But the plot is different of course. It’s about the misunderstood problematic students who are almost permanently in detention class. Banderas’ character, a ballroom dance teacher, helps bring out the best in them.

In the book, The Emperor’s Codes, the author said that most of the crucial war messages codes that were intercepted and successfully interpreted; were usually more artistically inclined in their encoding methods.

Hmm, I’m wondering, why are the fitness centers sprouting like mushrooms whereas our local theatres, art galleries and music centers require a directory to locate them?

Sad, truly sad.

We held hands!

Oh my God, it’s him!

His eyes caught mine. We moved away from our crowd and got together, face to face.

“Do you remember me?”
He does. I’m high on cloud nine.
We picked up just where we stopped the last time. His humor and intelligence reiterated.
Although there were lots of people around us, for me, it was just HIM and ME.
He held my hand, leading me to the table. My heart fell out.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

I opened my eyes slowly.
Tidak!!!!!!!! (No).
It was just a dream. All just a dream.

Damn this modern living lifestyle! The homes are built too close and the telecommunications are too loud. Couldn't that damn phone call have waited till the main course?

Sob! I hate Monday mornings!

Fear and Order

Yesterday, I called a friend and asked him,
"What is your worst FEAR?",
"When was the last time you were really frightened?"
He couldn't give me a straight answer.
He attempted to patronize me with a third-person point of view.
All the same, I appreciate his effort and time.

Today, whilst I was in Borders, I came across an answer to MY fear.

Yes, the world can be a chaotic place, and many of us get caught up in external trappings. We lose sight of what is essential and non-essential.
Master once said, 'Get quickly fed up with your life and change the direction of living in order. When you are the way you want to be, you are in order.
The order is mastery, a movement within this order, is meditation.

Janet Love Morrison, A love letter-Masters World -1st edition,2006

Another BOoBoO

I made another boo boo.

Yesterday was the Guardian 10,000 steps charity walk. As noble as it may sound, the management planning was a great disaster.

As I was resting under the small tent, (very lucky due to the fact that the seats were very limited) I saw a lady with an elaborated lanyard around her neck which led me to believe that she must be somebody in charge. She was giving one of her staff an earful.
Apparently, she too, must have noticed some things that were amiss with the event.

She sat at a VIP designated resting area in front of me. Mind you, there were couch, ceiling fan, coffee table, flowers on the table, little hors-d’oeuvres on their little plates served by their not-so-important staff.

I just fought the crowd for my well deserved goodie bag, (in reward of finishing the walk) only to be disappointed that the food they promised was actually just a bottle of drinking water, two pieces of sandwiches and a rotiman- butter slice.(Hmm, the rotiman’s version seems to be larger)

My anger was slowly mounting.

VIP lady stood up from her seat. She began to walk away. I approached her. @ # @ #

Stupidly Opinionated Lady in Desperation; (SOLD) aka Me : Excuse me, who are you? (trying to read her lanyard)
VIP: (Saw immediately that I had a number on my shirt which means I’m just a participant, a nobody in her eyes). Why? How can I help you?

*another lady in waiting whom I presume to be her poor sidekick comes and explain that VIP lady is some big shot in Guardian (organizer) hierarchy. I’m hardly neither impressed nor deterred.

Me: Well, you sat here and made a speech just now, obviously you’re somebody who were at the top making decisions about the planning of this event. You do know that there were many hiccups in this event?
VIP: (confused both by my boldness and my unidentifiable fake accent; which was honestly unintentional). Yes, I heard that there was some confusion at the direction of the walking route.
Me: That was just ONE unhappy issue. This event was poorly managed from the beginning. It says on the paper that it starts at 7.30am. What time did it start? There were no designated line for people to queue;

• no effort whatsoever was made to handle the traffic flow of people, no proper t-shirt size available for the early comers BUT for the late comers due to your inefficient delivery,
• you confiscate our water bottles at the entrance and DIDN’T provide us any much needed beverage until the END of the walk, you count your blessings nobody fainted of dehydration,
• ah, and the direction of the route, oh I don’t need to tell you about that, now do I?
• and the participants were allowed to obtain as many stamps on their ticket as they desire regardless if they really DID walk the walk or not. That’s not fair, because your goody bags are limited to the first 5,000 completed tickets.
• Now, I only bother to approach you because I feel sorry for your hardworking staffs who are trying to make this event a success. But because of poorly made planning management decisions by the top, they were subjected to stress at the peak and verbal abuse by the participants.

I’m happy to be here. Should you hold this event again next year, I will come. But much improvement needs to be made.
Thank you for your time.

*I walk away.

The sidekick comes running to me apologizing profusely.

The VIP continue talking to another of her equal.

The educators?

I was telling my friend,
“People are punished for vandalism against public property. What about the abuse of the intellectual mind/growth of the students who are trusted under their care?”

I mean, these students invest their time, effort, money and most important, their YOUTH to dedicate themselves to the crucial transformation of intellectual maturity in colleges/ universities. So, what happens if the EMPLOYED key players of that process, the EDUCATORS don’t live up to their job description?

Precious resource is invested into education; by the government, private bodies, parents, and students. So, what is the penalty of any form of misuse of those resources?

For students, it’s obvious. A lifetime trauma of having a bad grade stipulated in your resume, your worth of employability, but what about the other side of the game? The educators?

We have clear ethical guidelines for doctors and lawyers. If they fail to perform according to their profession expectation, if their patients or clients feel that they didn’t receive their service which was entitled to them, they could so easily sue.
Disciplinary lawsuit will take place. No controversial questions about it.

What about the teachers themselves? Is their noble profession not liable to such responsibilities? No doubt, it’s a tough job. But please explain which respectable profession in this modern day is ever deemed to be easy?

Inside man

Inside Man I can’t reinterate just how fruitful my ‘ponteng-ed’ days are. By choosing to rebel, which means putting myself at a precarious state, I learn so, SO many gratifying lessons.

Yesterday, I cut one lecture and a tutorial for the movie, Inside Man.

Lessons learnt,

• Crime; consist of many forms and levels, highly based on individual interpretation, lawful legitimacy and manipulation of the people who decides.
• Intelligent people admire and fear one another. It’s like having found a worthy opponent.
• Respect is the universal currency.
• Humor is necessary, in whatever circumstances.
• British accent is sexy.

Anger, my friend

A close friend of mine, whom I got to know back in the psychiatric ward, asked me two days ago, what prompt me to be so much ‘better’ now. She wanted to know the secret ingredient to my ‘recovery’. I gave it some serious thought.

Anger.

Anger perhaps is the ONE emotion that has not betrayed me so far. Anger has given me courage, higher self-esteem, motivation, determination and the hunger to better improve myself.

I was reading my past personal writings. I came to realized that I was truly myself when I wrote in anger.

Even this piece of writing. I can write this because I am currently thinking about my past unsettled issues.

Perhaps one day, my anger might give me the courage to write them down.

Marry Me Puh-Lease...

The other day, I saw this not-bad-looking Malay young man who was reading an international publication. I thought,
“Wow, what an intellectual.”

Then, he got up and gave his seat to an elder and I thought,
“Wow, so Asian-ly courteous and kind hearted.”

Then the rude bus conductor asked him for payment, he just politely show her his ticket and answered in a very soft spoken voice,
“Dah,” meaning, “I have paid.”

Wah Lau, at that point, I had to constraint myself from walking over to him and ask,
“Will you marry me?”

All children are artists

Pablo Picasso:
All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.

The 6-year-old built this structure out of the Rm6-pasar-malam-pirated version of Jengga.

I think he used less than 10 minutes. I heard him making a racket pouring the blocks out of the box. I turned to him to scream at him, but only to discover this.

what do u see ?

I painted this in haste.
Didn't think anything at all. Just paint.
The 6-year-old asked me what it is, turning it around.
"Which is the top?""Is it supposed to be this way?"
To my utmost surprise, he got the paper at same position as I had painted it.
Tell me, what do YOU see in this painting?

Seek first to understand

An online friend I’m fond of was trying to explain to me the depths of prostitution.
The oldest form of trade.
Although I tried very hard to grasp his perspective of this controversial issue, I was squinting at my monitor screen.
I responded, “It feels like everything is laid out before me, but I just can’t seem to SEE it.”
The conversation came to an unsatisfactory ending.

Days later, I read a book review which wouldn’t have caught my attention had I not discussed the earlier issue;

Call Me Elizabeth by Dawn Annandale.
A mother in her 30s, who turn to prostitution to get out of debts and to provide a comfortable lifestyle for her family.

• Some of my regulars were single men just looking for fun, but I’d realized by now that, as I’d initially suspected, there was a large group of nice, normal men who, for one reason or another, were simply incredibly lonely.
• ...Their loneliness I could understand – it can be difficult to meet someone if you work long hours all week, particularly if you live in London where no one looks at each other, let alone initiates a conversation.
• …Everyone needs attention in life - and I don’t just mean sexual attention.
• …I knew from the start that it wasn’t me that they enjoyed being with so much; it was the attention I gave them, and that could have come from another woman just as well. It should have come from their wives, and so easily could have- a home-cooked meal now and then, ten minutes’ worth of feigned interest in their husbands’ work, a blow job once a week- but it didn’t.
• …to be honest, a husband does sometimes leave his wife for a call girl.
• …there were times when I almost wanted to leave them a note. ‘Alert: your husband is having sex with a call girl on a regular basis. Give him a bit of attention before it’s too late’
• …Steve told me about he pressures of his job, and how lonely he was in his personal life. All his old friends were married with kids, and he didn’t have the energy at night to go out and meet new people. It was clearly company he was mostly after; the sex was almost an afterthought. We did have sex – the usual routine- but it was just a small part of the evening, rather that its focus.
• …Poor man. He was successful, well off and single, and his way of coping with his loneliness was to drink beer and book me. I was really glad for him when, after about seven months, he told me he’d met a girl. He was rather apologetic, almost as if he was dumping me. I told him he didn’t need to feel guilty, or worry about me. I said I was thrilled for him, and really hoped it worked out. Apart from the practical fact that I’d lost a good client, I genuinely meant it.
• … ‘I just feel terrible, terribly guilty about it, but I’m desperate for some sex.’
  ‘Of course you are, it doesn’t mean you don’t love your wife. You’re just a normal man with a sex drive.’ “I love her so much, I’ve never been unfaithful before, it’s just been so long…”, he looked at me so gratefully it was clear he had very little physical contact with human beings. Sometimes, he didn’t’ want sex at all and we just chatted. And every time I visited, night after night, he had always bought me a little gift.

When facts are put out like this before my eyes, I’d begin to doubt my beliefs and might believe my doubts.

Anaïs Nin:
We don't see things as they are; we see them as we are.
Harold Nicolson:
We are all inclined to judge ourselves by our ideals; others, by their acts
Isaac Asimov:
[W]hen people thought the Earth was flat, they were wrong. When people thought the Earth was spherical they were wrong. But if you think that thinking the Earth is spherical is just as wrong as thinking the Earth is flat, then your view is wronger than both of them put together.
Phil Collins:

They just don’t trust what they can’t explain
I know we’re different but, deep inside us
We’re not that different at all

Gotta Be

I’m not a good person.
I dare not and will never make such claim that I’m nice.
But I AM trying.
Trying to do my best.
Trying to hold a clear conscience.

One is happy as a result of one's own efforts - once one knows the necessary ingredients of happiness - simple tastes, a certain degree of courage, self - denial to a point, love of work, and above all, a clear conscience

_ George Sarol

If I had a choice, I’d definitely want to be a sweet, demure, soft-spoken girl who is loved by all.
Everyone around me treats me as they should.
Each time I’m bullied or mistreated, a gallant person will automatically pop up to my rescue.
Each time I’m down, someone will definitely be beside me to comfort and make me happy again.

Nope. That is not my world.
This is….

you gotta be bad

you gotta be bold

you gotta be wiser

you gotta be hard

you gotta be tough

you gotta be stronger

you gotta be cool

you gotta be calm

you gotta stay together

Melissa Desiree - You Gotta Be

Money makes men bad,
Badness makes women money.

-Good Women of China, Xinran

Happy Writer

Happiness: A Personal Ordeal.

BL: But you also knew from early on that it would be an uphill struggle. Tracing your family tree back several generations, you couldn’t find any cases of mental illness, alcoholism, or physical abuse.
CS: My father’s great-aunt was known as Weepy Clara, but that’s about all I was able to uncover.
BL: At Princeton you tried compensating for this absence of material.
CS: Yes, I told my roommates that my mother was a Vegas hooker, and that my father had been assassinated running drugs in Colombia.
BL: When did you realize that there is a place for happiness in literature?
CS: I think it was in business school, when I read Lee Iacocca’s autobiography. It was then that I appreciated that not all books have to be about alienations, madness, and death.
BL: And so you decided to write the happiest story you know?
CS: Yes-the story of my life.

Douglas. L, & George. A. Sense and NonSensibility-Lampoons of learning and literature.

Eerie Understanding

How many times have we read, watched or hear real life stories that scare us,

but at the same time, feel a sense of eerie familiarity to it?

Oscar Best Actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman played Truman Capote, ( Ka-po-tee) a journalist/writer in the 50s who grew too emotionally attached to a cold blooded criminal.

“…it’s as if we grew up in the same house. But he went out by the back door, and I, the front.”

"...we might not be as different as you think."

“If you don’t tell me your story, the whole world will only see you as a monster.”
Excerpts from the movie Capote.

Older Men

Lately, I’ve been very attracted to older men. Much older men. HongKong actor Kenny B, Phil Collins,Simon Cowell, Scorpion’s lead singer, Jean Reno, CSI Grissom, a veteran from the badminton game. (opps! Did I just type that?).

Thinking back, the last two crushes I had were men over 40! Yikes! HW says it's because I lack paternal authority in my life.
Errr.. my papa is very much alive and he’s always been the more active parent.

Is it some phase I’m going through?
Or maybe I feel ‘safer’ harboring crushes on men who I know for sure I won’t have any relationship with?

Ish, ish , ish. This is some deep psychological shit.

Men age 40s are at the old age of youth,

men age 50s are at the youth of old age.

Old French proverb.

#@# To friends who know me personally, Please please please don't ask me about this, k? Appreciate it loads.

Pencil

Parable of the pencil
The pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box. “There are 5 things you need to know before I send you out into the world,” he told the pencil.
“Always remember these and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.”

1. You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone’s hand.
2. You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.
3. You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make. The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.
4. On every surface you are used on , you must leave your mark.
5. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.
   
   Author unknown.

Gamble

In my previous posting, I mentioned that one of the best way to judge a person's character is by observing HOW they treat their inferiors.
I don't mean the master-slave type of inferiority, but rather in the modern context when you are obligated to be voluntary nice to someone who has no benefit contribution to your part.

First impressions are usually wrong. Today, this fact reaffirmed its cruel truth to me once again.

She no longer sees me as a 'useful' friend. She doesn't think twice before ditching me.
My wager on the loyal friendship gamble is lost completely on her.

"I WILL PROVE TO YOU THAT YOU LACK GOOD JUDGEMENT."

But I will gamble again. On another friend, of course. =)

Glimmer of Hope

I was in MPH (Oh, so what’s new? Rolling eyes) and a quarterly publication caught my attention. Firstly, I’m a sucker for local works. I’m somewhat patriotic when it comes to local intellectual property. Aw, come on, they’re poor enough.
Secondly, the size of the publication is very unique. So, I bought it. Mostly because out of curiosity and I didn’t want to miss any cinema-ads of my Syriana movie. (which was good but requires tedious attention to their details).

I was very surprised to see the name of my uni’s lecturer (N) once again. Damn, why is it that I am never in her class? Btw, hor… my wonderful uni doesn’t allow the students to choose their minors nor other elective subjects. An advertising lecturer calls it ‘standard operating procedure’ and I made a very sarcastic joke about it. He was very sensitive and chided me for it. I was even MORE sensitive and we quarreled. It was ground-breaking man. I became an instant ‘star’ student after that. I always heard, “Neh, this one lar” pointed at my direction.

Back to perhaps the only true educator in my uni. N is also the key person of public speaking workshops in my faculty. I saw the flyer pasted on the notice board one day and decided to just join them for observation purposes.
I’m very impressed. It’s obvious that she’s doing this out of her own initiative.I described my experience to a friend via online '...very impressed by her 'aura'.Could easily recognise her dedication and passion for both learning and educating.' Many ‘educators’ in my uni just want to finish their work and punch their time- card. But N is actually making use of the extra-curricular time to truly educate us.

In her(N) contribution to the quarterly mag.
I spent weeks planning the class, doin the research into an area of history that had no presence in the students’ textbooks
….Teaching is no longer noble nor inspiring; it has become like any other job-a means to put food on the table, something that was all head and little heart.
….Paolo Freire states that “dialogue cannot exist without humility….”
“without dialogue there is no communication, and without communication there can be no true education”

There is still hope. =P

Strange?

Although I always DO feel guilty for ponteng-ing. I really might run into trouble one day. But I really DO seem to learn MORE each time I do things out of the norm.
Out of the rationale.
When I’m simply doing what my heart dictates me to.

I was at a local art gallery. The curator was most kind. He took the trouble to set up the proper lighting and music. I kept requesting him to just, ‘let it be’. There were students on set working. I had the privilege to see Picassos in making.

An elderly British woman was painting something that was obviously personal. Bold and shameless me approached her. She explained that that was how she felt during a particular sunset moment. There was so much sorrow and disappointment and yet a shred of hope is still visible in her ‘sun’.
Amazing.

I was looking at other paintings on the board and this kind lady was dragging pieces of cardboards on the floor away from me. “Are these on the way?” “No, not at all. Please leave them”. She smiled.

I looked at the cardboards on the floor. I asked her, “Are these your work?” She was bashfully humble. “Ah, yes.” I asked her a few questions. She was very generous.
She’s so Asian-ly humble and said, “Very strange and frightening, right?”
“No. It’s very … very real”, looking at her work intently.”

She told me that as a good artist, one must recognize and overcome the unresolved ‘monsters’ in us.
I hope to never forget her drawings.

The Devil Speaking

Dear Valued Customer,

Come and visit our book fairs at:

1. POPULAR Book Fair @ IKANO Power Centre
Date : 10/3 - 19/3/06
Time : 10.00 am - 10.00 pm
Venue : Main Concourse, IKANO Power Centre, Mutiara Damansara

The Devil has spoken.

Dumb and Dumberer

Apparently, I react better towards criticisms than compliments. Why is it that I only get compliments like,

• “You look really nice in this”
• “You should wear clothes like this more often”

when I wear the clothes of NOT my choice?

I was telling HW that I was going to meet this guy who I have a girlie crush on. Her well-meaning advice –
“Borrow clothes from your sister.”

# @ # @ #

I was telling an Internet friend my frustration towards a particular lecturer. He asked, “Oh, was that what you wrote about in your blog?”
Me : Hell no! I won’t waste my time writing about her.

Today, I changed my mind. That B**** went a little too far in yesterday’s lecture. She was presumably teaching us about globalization.

In the most boring ‘pasar-malam-aunty’ voice imaginable.

" You all know what globalization is all about, right? News that happen in US, we get it here. McDonalds, hypermarkets, Mercedes, you all know where Naza cars come from? Good.
Now, there are pros and cons of globalization. The pros, efficiency, more profit.. Cons? *Silence* You think about it."

That was the last phrase I remember from her before I turned to another exciting page from Thomas Friedman’s The World is Flat. I was very fascinated of his analyses that the globalization had begun the day Columbus had proven that the world is indeed round. Friedman explained the 3 eras of globalization, which the third is currently shaping as we speak.
Amazing. That was only TWO pages of his first chapter. This knowledge cost me virtually nothing.

And I’m force to listen to this obviously unfulfilled woman who feels we are all indebted to her for her mere existence.
My head rose from my book.

"You know why you all say this faculty is under-developed? Because we have under-developed students like you.
She walked to the back of the lecture, closer to me.
May I know why are you all talking? Here I am trying to give my lecture and you are all talking. Always talking, talking, talking. If you all know about globalization, FINE. But do you?
Some of you don’t even come to lecture, and you expect me to allow you to take the exam?"
(Unsatisfactory attendance will unable the student to take exam).
Her Ass-Holiness decides.

I’m thinking. Who’s dumber? She, being paid to be here. Or ME, paying to be here.
Sigh.

~*~[H]~*~

The fear and anxiety in H is God-damn real. And sometimes, she feels that only Dolores O’Riordan and Evanescence are the only sisters in pain who truly feel the same.

H appears to be very self-sufficient. Needs neither approval nor companion. What people didn’t know was that this two aspects in her life is actually out of her control. She does not decide to possess genuine affections from the people who matter to her.

It is not something she can control. So, she does something that she CAN control. She pushes people away before she is pushed away.

H has a very confident walk. She calls it, ‘put best front forward’ walk. Disregard the inner feelings and the surrounding. "Just make it look like you don’t give a shit about the world. And if you‘re good enough, you might even be able to fool even yourself."

Familiarity

# The best treasures found,

are the treasures we don't seek. #
(--I made this up while driving, clever or not? hehehe)

I stumble upon this quote when I was in Borders.

When I get a little money, I buy books.

And if there is any leftover, I buy food.

~~~Desiderius Eramus.

Now, I can feel less guilty about splurging on books.

# # # # #

Watched Constant Gardener. There was one scene where Rachel Weisz wanted to give two Africans a ride to save them from a torturous 40km journey on foot. Her husband Ralph Fiennes refused.

RF: There are millions of them here. We can't help them all. We can't put their lives into ours.

RW:We can help this one.

RF: I'm sorry, but I have to put my priorities right.

Ralph stepped on the pedal and sped off. Rachel looked at the Africans with a longingly guilty expression.

The scene seems disturbingly familiar.

Gay friends Needed

I joked the last time that I would have to eat bread for the rest of the week after my frenzied shopping at the MPH warehouse sale two weeks ago.

Today, after yet another craze at the TIMES warehouse clearance; I think I can only afford to drink plain water for the rest of the week.

Plain boiled water from home.

I have serious issues man. Does anybody know any ACBOS (abnormal-compulsive-book-ownership-syndrome) support group around Klang Valley?
** # # # # # # * *

This Sunday has been the most fanstastic. Met up with my good friend, M. She introduced me to RLM, Real Love Ministry which counsels homosexuals who seek help from Christian brothers and sisters.

The group of people I encountered were truly amazing. The co-founder of the ministry and speaker of the day, Edmund was fabulous. His communicating skills beat any of my overvalued educators in my university in a heartbeat.

Thanks to him, I now understand the divisions of one’s sex life; which comprises the

• organ itself,
• orientation and
• lifestyle.

How they are all interrelated and inter-influential but NOT necessarily inter-dependent and may also stand on its own.

Edmund also helped me understand the different opinions about how the hormones/mind OR the lifestyle is usually blamed for homosexuality. He concluded that in the end, it’s like arguing the ‘chicken and egg’ theory. There is no ending.

The best part was when we were divided into smaller groups for a more personal discussion. I was so vocally-opinionated that my members abruptly asked, “Are you gay?”.

They were not persuaded that I don’t have a personal experience on such delicate matter that they went on, “Do you have any family members who are gay?” and later persisted, “Do you have any close friends who are gay?”. "Then, why are you Here?"

Darn. Does that mean that my opinion is less credible?

Please. Gay friends urgently needed.

Eddie

My Eddie and Adrian came to visit today.
Awww.. my boys are so tall now!!
Both of them have reached above my waist. Ed,8 and Ad,6.
Both look just absolutely dashing.

I teased Eddie about his prospective girlfriends in school. This boy boy ah.. resembles the Kuhan-hockey guy. Ed's got the huge to-die-for eyes, tanned and athletic.
Mind you, this boy is ALREADY standing next to my shoulders. He plays badminton, football, wushu and swims.

Sob!! It just seems like yesterday that I changed his diapers, stuff food into his mouth, sang lullaby to him in his sarong bed & coo him to giggle.

My baby is all grown up. *lower jaw shivering*

Love Me Pls

What I could never make You understand,

What I could never make you see,

What you will never know.

If only you know how I yearn for you

The entire world can be against me

but I can't even bear you not being happy with me

Do you know you still hold the record as the person who gave me the best birthday present?

Do you know that I STILL remember?

Do you know that I'd do anything to feel that I'm special to you once again?

Comics, Music from the 80s, the inquisitive mind

All due to your influence

If only you could stop hating the world

Many times I wonder who you'd be now if circumstances were different

If only you can see how intelligent and talented you are

#Written specially for the ONE person who would never read it.#

History in Making

I ponteng-ed today.

I skipped a mid-term, two-hours of lecture and one and a half hour of tutorial.

It’s my futile attempt of a solitary silent protest of incompetent education system in Malaysia. *nodding head, eyes looked down and lips pressed*

I watched Casanova last night and was too tired to wake up early this morning.

My day started at 11am.

• Drove to 1 Utama
• watched Pink Panther
• found out that I could watch King Kong and Syriana tomorrow for Rm5 each
• bought book from TIMES
• offered to lend books to a lady stranger who was found browsing Farish Noor’s books
• drove to The Curve
• ate Ikea’s Hotdog
• bought watch for myself
• bought birthday gift for sis
• bought vcds and Phil Collins’ HITS (which I’m currently enjoying).
  

My patience with customer service was once again tested today.

I was queuing behind a nice chap in the post office of Ikano.

Puzzled why there isn’t anybody behind the stamp counter.

Asked chap.

Chap explained that he has been waiting for the lady to return back to her desk for the past 10 mins.
Waited along with nice chap for another 3 mins.
Patience draining.

No, Hun. Not this time. Be NICE. BE a nice young lady.
Be a nice submissive, demure and sweet nice young Asian lady.

Clock on wall clicking.

Silently prayed the Serenity Prayer
Lord, grant me the serenity to accept things I can’t change,
Courage to change things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Ahem, not working. Prayed again.

And again.
Volcano exploded.

Confronted the male staff.

“Kamu punya rakan sekerja (pointing at the empty seat) sudah pengsan kat dalam ah? #looking sarcastically concerned#”
“Dia ada hal kat dalam”
“Kita disini pun ada hal!" (finger pointing at the people in queue)
“Kalau you tak boleh tunggu, you ambil nombor lar”

@He is suggesting that I take a number and join the rest of the *about 12 people who wish to pay bills and renewing license* crowd IF I wish to be attended. Never mind the fact that I merely wanted to buy stamps and there IS supposedly a special counter for this transaction.

3 seconds to reset my composure and refrain myself from pulling his lapel across the counter.

I looked at him and very loudly,
“Ya. Itu dia! Kekalkan semangat Malaysia Boleh!” (Thrusting my left fist to the air to add drama)

I walked out of the post office.

I’ve been a bad girl again today. Played truant and lost my temper again. =(

All of a sudden. A quote from Men of Honor ; Robert DeNiro and Cuba Gooding Jr came to mind.

History are made by men who break the rules.

*Snickering* yuk - yuk -yuk