3 day holiday

Friday.
I was in one of my ‘my life is a piece of shit’ moods.
Avoided people like plaque.

Gave obligatory smiles and nods.
Was in library to renew books.

The librarian strikes a conversation with me as if we’ve known each other for years.

L1= (pointing at the other lady librarian, L2) Look at her, she’s laughing for no reason. You’d have to excuse her, she just got out of the mental hospital.

L2 = At least, I am officially released from the hospital. (looking at me while pointing to L1) But you! You ran away from the hospital!

Both of them continued teasing each other fervently.

At first, I just reacted by smiling politely. But looking at their antics, slowly my smiles were genuine.

I left the library still smiling sheepishly, amazed at how 3 day-holiday are capable of making people so... happy.

TV

I could finally confirmed my suspicion that WJian (the 7-year-old my mom feeds and cleans on weekdays) is spending too much time in front of the TV when...

• he could hum every single commercial jingle that was broadcast
• his vocabulary was all SmartShop rhetorics- oriented

Why?

You ever wonder why,

Smart people tend to act stupid,

whilst stupid people tend to act smart?

Beautiful Sue

For the past few days, I had many ideas on what to post, but had to swallow them all back due to fear.

Fear that I'm emotionally unprepared to disclose so much of myself.

Fear that I might be making myself a bit too transparent; when the world I know is so muddy.

So, instead I chose this; written many years ago. A desperate attempt to submit 'some words' for participation sake.

It went unappreciated many times. I'm trying to change that.

Beautiful Sue
On her way home, Sue reflected what happened at work 20 minutes ago, “Well done, Sue!” her restaurant manager complimented the way she had handled the seating arrangements. Today was Valentine’s Day and the place was packed. The person in charge had earlier fumbled the customers’ reservation list. Though working under tremendous pressure, Sue knew she did well tonight. Every customer had comfortable seating arrangements, all food served to the correct table at ample time, glasses were refilled soon after two third emptied, plates cleared once customer had enough. She was particularly pleased with herself when a Caucasian customer patted her back, thanking her for the lovely service and slipped her a crisp RM50 note to her palm. With this extra cash, I can buy the boys some good breakfast tomorrow, Sue thought to herself. She found herself smiling as she opened the door to her flat.
Sue took off her shoes and put away her things carefully as not to wake her children up. Sue is a mother of 2 boys, Jake 6, and Luke 4. Both attend the kindergarten behind their flat. Her kind neighbor, Lee PoPo minds them when they return from school. Sue headed straight to her children’s bedroom after a quick shower. Looking at her children sleeping, she realized how quickly her babies have grown and the room would soon be too small for them to share. Sue sits at their study table and continues to admire the sight of her children sleeping. Her boys were sleeping so soundly, as if the illustrate Michael Learns To Rock’s song- Sleeping Child. She couldn’t resist but kiss her angels at their foreheads. Sue admits, after a hard day’s work, this moment is the reward she wants most.
Bang! The door slammed hard. Sue shuddered. Oh no, not again. “SUE! YOU HOME? WHERE’S THAT BITCH?” Sue ran out of the room hastily and closed the door carefully behind her. She knew what to expect. “Rick, please… quiet down. The boys are sleeping. They have school tomorrow. “
“Ricky do this… Ricky do that…” his head flung left and right as he speaks.
“It’ not enough that I’m treated like a dog in the office, but I have to continue obeying orders from YOU?” his voice roared.
Though standing 5 feet away from him, Sue could smell his foul alcohol breath. Ricky walked unsteadily towards her.

“Never, never tell me what to do in my house!” He slapped her hard across her face. Sue lost her balance and her back hit on the dining table. Hard. She didn’t cry, whim, attempt to protect herself nor retaliate. She did nothing, because nothing is what she does best. The police need not come this time. But Sue was not always like this. In previous encounters, she did make efforts to remedy the situation. Stood up for her pride, position as his equal and argued. Threw away her dignity and begged for pity. All has been done and failed. After that, she gave up trying, just succumbing.

“Get up you whore!” Ricky dragged her into their bedroom when Sue saw that look on his face again. That same face she sees each time he victimizes her. That same inhumane look. And immediately the same question as always, popped into her mind. How did I once loved this man? The bedroom door slammed.

Sue was washing herself for the second time that night. She wanted to get rid of all that vomit, sweat, semen, foul smell and everything that was his. The bruises on her body didn’t bother her. She is used to them. It is the sharp pain in her heart that is unbearable. Sue thought of leaving her husband many times. But she doubted her financial capability of raising her children on her own. Leave the boys behind. No. That would be worse than Ricky’s torture. Moreover, how can I leave the boys with such abusive father? Sue knew that her children were terrified of their father. She recalled Luke’s wailing when Ricky hit him two days ago.

Many times, she thought of just walking out of the door with her sole possession, her dignity. Sue thought of her job, her kids and a bank account with less than RM800. It would be very hard for herself and the boys. Sue would feel bad for depriving her children the financial security their father is capable of providing. Also, she dreads what her relatives and friends would say. And how she’d allow her aunt’s prediction come true. Her mind flashed back to 6 years ago.

You’ve just finished school and you want to marry this man you hardly know! You are just like your mother! So dependent on men. Go ahead! Marry this man for all I care! End up miserable and useless like your mother!”

Sue couldn’t hold her tears anymore. Sue swore that she would never be anything like her mother. A divorcee who left Sue with her aunt since she was 10. Her tears flowed even more when she recalled the promise Ricky had made to her when he proposed. “We will raise a loving, close-knitted family. Just like the one you’ve always dreamed of having. I will take care of you and never let you be unhappy the way you were in your aunt’s house” Oh… how convincing he was. Or maybe it was Sue who wanted so much to believe.

Sue went out of the flat and sat on the armchair at the balcony. The cars were moving so fast yet in such orderly way that the headlights looked like gigantic mechanical fireflies. Sue looked around her and didn’t realize there were so many new buildings under construction. Laughter were heard from the coffee shop opposite her flat. There were a large group of friends having supper. Sue could also see young couples holding hands while strolling in the park. She looked up the sky and there were bright twinkling starts guarding the even brighter crescent moon. Cool wind was cleansing her body. Sue threw her head back and closed her eyes peacefully. Such a beautiful world, but why am I not part of it?

Sue fell asleep on the armchair that night and didn’t wake up till the next morning when she heard Jake calling her. “Mommy.. why you sleep ‘ere..?” Sue just smiled. It’s so easy to smile to her children. Sue was preparing breakfast in the kitchen when she heard Jake’s sudden laughter. She rushed out to see what had happened. Luke had worn his uniform inside out. Jake found this absolutely hilarious and continued laughing. Poor Luke looked helplessly confused. Sue couldn’t resist giggling. “Aiya… come, mommy help you”.

“Bye bye, Mommy!!!!!!” Both Jacob and Luke were waving frantically at her by the kindergarten entrance gate. As she wondered why her boys have to stiffen their face each time they do that, she smiled and waved back. With her boys, with the people around her at work – she was appreciated, worthy of living, just plain happy.
She turned to walk towards her flat. Sue wondered how she could hold on to such good feeling longer. She turned and looked at her boys again. They were laughing with their friends. The laughter strengthened her conviction. I am not weak.
Sue knows that she can decide to be part of the beauty in life. With her eyes fixed at her kids, she knew which decision to make.
# # # #

Persuasive Communication

My jiejie (older sis) has always got the best indirect method of communication in rendering her messages.

Jie: Hun, do you realise that when you shop for apparels, the women who are selecting with you are always older? Much old-er?

I seriously need some contemporary fashion sense.

Snail-mail

I was chatting with an online friend who told me that he's going to be in Malacca for training. I asked him to post me a nice postcard via snail-mail when he has settled down there. He asked,

"What's that, snail-mail ?"
"Er,, you know what a postman do?"
"Oh..."

Some of us are just too modern-technologically-reliant.
**sorry, rocutie. this one's on you.

Cowshit

15 year ago;
In POL (People Own Language) afternoon class.
A popular girl from the IN click of students accidentally knocked off the vitagen drink from the table.
Vitagen spilled on floor.
Owner of the vitagen stared confusedly disbelieved at spilled drink and the perpetrator; .

Popular Girl (PG): What? It’s not my fault you put it there. Teacher said you not supposed to put drinks on table. (vitagen was on victim’s writing table)
Victim: But…*speechless* -supposedly fearful of the back up other equally popular girls behind the PG.
PG: If you hadn’t left your drink there, my hand wouldn’t have caused the drink to fall lar! *her back up all nodded favorably*
V: *face start to change color* - due to the fact that vitagen was considered a great luxury drink back then for primary school students bought with their own pocket money.
PG: *continue blabbering her crazy theory how the whole incident is NOT her fault. Her ladies in waiting all back up every single fart she produced*

I looked up from my Chinese textbook. Decided to take a break from my last minute revision for the impending ‘ting xie’- Chinese character writing test.

Me: In that case, V should slap you lar. You can’t blame her hand to reach your face, coz your face is there already. Her hand wouldn’t have reached your face, if your face wasn’t there at the first place.

PG: *shocked that I – a nobody from an unknown class would dare speak in her royal bitchiness presence*
Humph! Sorry –lor! *Flicked hair and ordered her entire troop to leave with her*.

V: *still unable to digest her bad luck*.

@ # @ #

Present time
Something of the similar experience just happened.
Adults, different circumstances, but all the same cow-shit.

You know, I’m actually more angry at people like V,

who allow such injustice to be inflicted on themselves.

Devil Mockery

You know how spontaneously played songs have the power to immediately bring out the impactful memories in us?

Be it good or bad, it works the same.

Yeah, MixFm just played a song which brought a sick feeling to my stomach.
No... nothing wrong with that song.

It's just that; it's the exact same song that was playing when something really bad had taken place.

Listening to it again sounded like the devil mockering me.

I pray hard that there will be one day, I wouldn't feel like what I'm feeling now the next time they play;

The Reflex by DuranDuran.

drop my waterface

There was a misunderstanding in a badminton game weeks ago.
This 'ko sau' - (expert) smashed me at the face!
Yes, at my left cheek. It hurt quite a while..minutes later.. at my head!!What hurt the most was my waterface (pride)!! drop my waterface!!

Where to put my face lar!! I was kinda annoyed coz we were only playing for the first time and this bugger start to attack me liddat lar??!!

ahem,, back to the misunderstanding...
I screamed, " I'll fight you!!"
But I had a funny accent and my pride was severed,, and I think it sounded more like..."I'll F_CK you!!" ...
I didn't realized that possibility of misunderstanding until there was awkward silence in the court.

errr... ooppss.. so to that guy who never show up again in the court...
if you're reading this...
"Chow... errr.. I wasn't angry..I was just... err.. ahem.. responding?..Sorry man..."

Tax Exemption

I was clearing my receipt box, and found loads of book receipts.

So, who wants them for their tax exemption?
If I'm not mistaken, you can be exempted up to Rm500, right?

I can help One person for year 2005.
For year 2006, - several.....
and we're not even into Mid-year... hehehe..

Just email me your address.
First come , first serve.

The boys

It’s my first time peering anxiously into the male’s toilet.

"What’s taking them so long? Has the kidnappers discovered another exit?

Are the boys alright?"

Then, their giggles brought great relief.

I’ve not seen Eddie and Eddrien for almost a month. Oh, how I miss them.

Each time I’m with them, I just want to succumb to my maternal instincts and grab hold of any homosapien male and JUST REPRODUCE.

Walls Ice Cream was having a promotion. Buy any two drumsticks and I’m entitled to 3 archery attempts of little gifts.

• My first arrow: fell flat vertically from the original bow position.
• Second: Unbelievably flew over the huge board and shocked the cashier.
• Third: Unbelievably repeated the second attempt.

Hid face and quickly ushered boys out of the scene.

educated N careful?

Scene 1:
Was in MPH, overheard a couple negotiating on whether to purchase a table globe atlas.
I couldn’t resist, “Excuse me, do u have the MRC card?”
Skeptical Husband: No, why?
Me: I have it; it entitles you to a 10% discount. Considering your purchase, I think the 10% in this case is quite significant. You may use mine.
Skeptical Husband (SH): And…? *anticipating me to proceed my proposal*
Me: What? You think there’s a catch? You think I might want you to split your 10% savings with me. *SH had believed this phrase, so I quickly added* No, no. I pay an annual membership fees regardless how I utilize the privilege.

Scene 2:
Also at MPH, was stretching my neck at the cashier line to see if there’s anyone who’d be paying more than Rm50. I had a voucher which entitles a Rm5 discount of for purchase of that amount.
Finally found one. A nice young mother queuing to pay children’s book (which I think are seriously overpriced). I explained to her that she could use my voucher.
She clenched on to her purse tighter.
I couldn’t be bothered and just handed the voucher over to the cashier who understood my intention immediately.

Testimony by online friend:
He told me that on Valentines’ Day, he bought stalks of roses with the intention to give them away randomly to strangers.
I was fascinated with the idea, instantly.
He told me that there were some young ladies who were not only skeptical but actually fearful of him.

Scene 3:
Outside a bank waiting for mom. Saw a man in ragged clothes, sitting by the pathway. Presumptuously thought that he’s not in good condition. I walked into the bakery next door and bought the first thing I wanted to eat.
Walked out of shop and passed the bun to him saying, “Abang, ni saya belanja” – Brother, this is my treat. I swiftly walked off. I turned around, and was relieved to see him chewing the bun. He smiled at me.

# @ # @

What? Are we now just too ‘educated’ and ‘careful’ to sanely receive kind gestures from others? Or is it because it’s just not part of our modern civilized everyday practice?

STUDY WEEK

It's STUDY WEEK. I've been doing everything but study.
Cleaned my room, toilet, changed water filter tube, arranged books and cds, writing letters, filling up contest forms and this...

I asked an online friend what he would like me to mail him from Malaysia. He answered, "why don't u paint me what makes you happy?"

He's so sweet.
So, morriswck - this is for you. These are my favourite things.

Universal Advice

I was at my lowest ebb sometime last year.
An uncle played a harmless tarot card game with me.

I don’t believe much of it and didn’t give it much thought, until now.

One of his statements to me;
“Hmm, you shouldn’t be at this state. You are currently forcing yourself to be in a group of people where you don’t belong.”

He said this with some level of irritation.

Thinking back, although he DID say some coincidental accurate traits about me; but his advice is universal, isn’t it?

Nobody should be in the state of unhappiness.

"Myself"-asap.

This is what I had written back in the NST Life'n Times as requested by Ms Amry.http://cendolais.blogspot.com/2006/02/shareem-amry.html
--written on 29 March,2004
## @@ ##

This is my third month working in a news room. I was in general desk during the first two months and after that, I spent a month in Business Times. Now, I am feeling very fortunate that I’m given an opportunity to start fresh anew again in another department. I readily admit my ignorance in many matters and I really look forward to learn a lot from the features department.

I’m majoring in journalism. Having spent three months here, I quite regret my choice of discipline. I honestly think that journalism is not something we can learn from a book. As there is no use crying over spilt milk, I plan to do my best in my remaining degree program whilst keeping an eye for education opportunities in other field of discipline for my future self development.

Having said that, I don’t mean that journalism is an easy discipline. A copy of a daily newspaper requires numerous work of different expertise from all walks of life. Basically, it’s a compilation of the works from the cream of each field. Many times, I would feel that news writers are educators, be it of any field of reporting. At the end of the day, it’s all about condensing all the gathered information into a well presented manner where the readers can best benefit from it.

Perhaps I could best illustrate my point better if I use the metaphor of a new teacher in a classroom of bored students. The first task would be to gain the attention of the students, convincing them that her lesson is worth their time. Second, to render her lessons in a manner where they can best understand and benefit from it. And lastly, to leave an impression that the teacher had enjoyed the lesson as much as the students because then, the students would want more of where those come from.
## @@ ##

The title was, "Myself". Written asap. Only now that I realized, I might have ran out of the given scope.

Nope, guess again

Writing disciplines the mind.
What about talking?
Talking discovers the mind?

Once again, my gift of the gap surprised myself.
I was in the Jacuzzi with a sweet middle aged Indian lady from Bangloo, southern of India. (if I got the spelling wrong, please write me a hate mail)

It was so funny. I started out…
Me: Both of us must be crazy to be in a Jacuzzi at this hour of the day, eh? (It was sizzling noon)
She: Sorry, I’m not Malaysian. Can you speak English?
Me: (wanting to drown myself in Jacuzzi). *Clearing my throat* I was speaking English.

She comforted me by explaining that I’m the first Malaysian face she has encountered who speaks English, err… the way I do.

Although this nice lady travels quite a bit outside her home, I’m surprised at how little she knew about Malaysia.
I did Malaysia proud by explaining some stuff to her. *Wink*

Then she began posting personal questions to me.
Once again, my background was presumably misunderstood.
Confused that her presumptions were ALL wrong, she asked me how I know so much about …the things I had just said.
I answered,
“Well, books, newspapers, TV, movies and computer. As long as I have the willingness to absorb new information, the entire world is under my feet”

She nodded and smiled approvingly.
Wah Lau! Bulls’ eye! If it was a job interview, I had aced it.

Got to go now, need to inject myself with some humility.

SeaShells

It’s my first visit to the east coast.
Kemaman, Terengganu.
The beach was wonderful. I’ve never seen such clean natural water outside the TV screen.
I couldn’t resist but pick the seashells.
I was overwhelmed by the selections.
Minutes later, I felt exhausted from walking and searching.
So, I just stood stagnant and watched out for the amazing seashells around me. Newcomers came in by the wave nonstop.

I was thinking.
These seashells are like the people and the books in my life.
There are just so many of them.
I have to carefully select them.
Fate and choices play an important role.

I might think that some seashells aren’t pretty, but if I look at them carefully, they might surprise me.
Some may be exquisitely unique but they aren’t available for me. (Most of the tiny seashells had little hermit crabs in them)

Nature has got so much to teach me.

Strangers are friends?

I truly enjoy my encounters with strangers.
Yesterday in the LRT, I was seated next to this gorgeous Eurasian young lady. The book she was reading caught my attention.
‘Echoes of Silence’.
Yes, I initiated a conversation with her.

We talked about Asian authors, both local and international.
All from Taman Paramount to KL Central station, about 20 minutes of travel.

Last Monday, after having read 4 local newspapers, harassed friends via sms, ate my nasi lemak (while sitting on the floor ala beggar because the gardener nearby had expressively watered all the benches and the canteen was closed for construction),

my mind was almost numb after waiting for almost 3 hours in the hospital waiting area. I desperately needed to amuse myself.

Aha! Caught a Malay man with a Stephen Covey book on his lap. Why he’s not reading it?, I am just as puzzled.
Started to converse with him about other books of the similar genre. He too agreed that Robert Kiyosaki’s books were crap but the marketing implementation was utmost admirable. I was surprised that he’s never heard of Chicken Soup for the Soul.
The most amusing part? He was wondering my ethnicity because we were switching randomly from Malay to English and back again.

Today, I had to buy a proper pair of badminton shoes. Chatted with the sales assistant. Found out that he just got his SPM results and now considering his next pivotal move in life. Ah Fook lives nearby and loves sports. Currently active in basketball and marathon events. I gave him my number and invited him to join me for the next badminton game. Oh! I’m so… easy… *Blush*

I once ridiculed Carlsberg’s tagline.
'Strangers are friends you have not met.'
Hmmm….

2 seas in Palestine.

There are two seas in Palestine.

One is fresh, and fishes are in it.
Splashes of green adorn its banks. Trees spread their branches over it and stretch out their thirsty roots to sip of its healing waters

…The River Jordan makes this sea with sparkling water from the hills. So it laughs in the sunshine. And men build their houses near to it, and birds their nests; and every kind of life is happier because it is there.

The River Jordan flows on south into another sea.

Here is no splash of fish, no fluttering leaf, no song of birds, no children’s laughter. Travelers choose another route, unless on urgent business. The air hangs heavy above its water, and neither man nor beast nor fowl will drink.

What makes this mighty difference in these neighbor seas? Not the River Jordan. It empties the same good water into both. Not the soil in which they lie; not in the country round about.

This is the difference.

The Sea of Galilee receives but does not keep the Jordan. For every drop that flows into it another drop flows out. The giving and receiving go on in equal measure.

The other sea is shrewder, hoarding its income jealously. It will not be tempted into any generous impulse. Every drop it gets, it keeps.
The Sea of Galilee gives and lives. This other sea gives nothing.
It is named the Dead.

There are two seas in Palestine.

There are two kinds of people in this world.

Sean Covey; 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens;pg 37

I can count

At the MPH cashier counter.

Me: I understand that purchase made above RM100 entitles me to a mug?
Cashier: Yes.
M: My maths very 'teruk' lar. (suck). Can you help me count if these are above Rm100

Place books on the counter.
Cashier punches her machine.

C:Yes, the total is Rm114.++
M:Great

Made payment, walked away to the gift counter to collect my mug. Noticed something amiss in my receipt. Walks back to the cashier.

M:Excuse me, isn't this book on a 30%? You gave me 20%.
C: *Embarassed* Oops, sorry.

Got a another supposedly senior cashier to solve the problem.
Senior cashier punches the calculator. She tells me that MPH currently owes me Rm1.7+

M: That can't be right, it should be Rm3.59.

Senior cashier punches the machine again, looking agitatedly at the receipt, books, the earlier cashier and later ME.
Explains incoherently to me how she managed to come up with that number.

C: It still doesn't make sense. You owe me 10%. How can 10% be only Rm1.7+?

By then, the previous customers who were in line (who heard me proclaiming that I'm teruk in maths) were amused at my 'blurness'.

The senior cashier was so confident with her calculations, that I myself begin to doubt my own calculations.
Fortunately, the earlier cashier who had started this mess, had the conscience to come into the picture to clarify.
Finally, I understood. The senior, had assumed that the mistake was 25%, not 20%.
She didn't seem apologetic at all. Nobody was.

My only regret was, all the customers in line who were amused, weren't around anymore to see that "I" was RIGHT. Me, Mua!

Sigh... Can anybody recommend any Anger Management class to me?
Please?