He says, she says...

• Twas one night when her gear box wouldn't work...
• Though she floored the clutch, it wouldn't go in gear...
• She calls the mechanic...
• Gear box would work only when the engine is off...not on...
• You would have to drive the car to my place for a check-up...
• I doesn't know how to drive a car, whose gear box doesn't work...
• Its possible, but the roads must be clear or of light traffic to avoid any possible accidents...something like a jumpstart, the only catch is that you cannot stop the car AT ALL, till you has reached your destination...
• I am in Seri Kembangan...
• coincidentally Seri Kembangan is a suburb that never sleeps...NEVER...
• the other alternative is for you to come to my shop, and take me to your car cz I don't know the way...
• I will try....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

• She manages to get a friend who would so kindly take her to the mechanic...
• thank you...
• no problem...
• Oops...
• What??
• I accidentally left my car keys in the car...could you turn back??
• no problem...
• and he U-turns...
• Yikes
• What??
• I just remembered I locked the car door before leaving...with my car keys INSIDE the car...
• no problem...
• and he U-turns...again...
  
• crap, I also left my house keys all locked in the car...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

• She reaches the mechanic shop and called the mechanic...
• I will follow you and your friend in another car...
• okay...
• Upon reaching Seri Kembangan once more, he tries to open her locked door...successful...
• thank God, no trouble there...
• her car keys and house keys retrieved...
• nothing wrong with your car...
• What the h-ll??
• gear-box is fine...
• no way
• She insisted on test drive...everything is fine...
• car sounds slightly sluggish for a certain reason, best to take it back to my shop...
• crap...she needed the car for work the next day...but never mind...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

• The mechanic has gone back home...the assistant drove her car...
• He was a friendly guy and they had a short chat on the way back to the shop...
• She was sharing about how stupid things went, with her leaving her car keys behind, etc...
• They reach the shop safely...
  
• thank you...
• no problem...
• He stops short and slaps his forehead...
• what?
• crap...
• why?
• I left the store keys in my car...
• So? Go get it from your car...what is the big deal?
• I locked my car...
  
• And?
• My car keys is inside the shop that is locked...and the keys that open the locks of the shop is in my car that is locked...
• ....................

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That was Lady Luck playing a joke on us...

I just got dumped...

Yeah, I did...the title says it all...dumped like an unwanted rag doll...left in the shivering cold...uncertainties like beyond me...am looking for the strength that I don't have...to move on to a...

HAPPIER YEAR 2010!!!!....

Yup, you read me right...and no, I have not lost my marbles...

I HAVE just been dumped...dumped and abandoned by one of my private students...that means a certain amount of pay-cut...which means I will have to find some other means that can compensate, so my debts will not mount up...

Hang on...let me break out the champagne and bring on some party girls!!!...This is worth a dozen celebrations, oh...would you believe it...I just got dumped...

Erm...no, I am not delusional nor hysteria...euphoric would be a much better word...*sigh*...such blissfulness...

This student has been such a pain since I first taught her close to a year ago...I don't blame her, though...I blame her parents...I have never in my life come across such disrespectful child that I dearly love to slap...till now...and am at a lost when I come to handling her...so far, in my experience as a her instructor;...

• she lifted up her leg to my nose, while talking to me...
• told me that she hated me, for not "playing" with her and for "giving me hard songs" as her previous instructor did...not understanding that it was due to that, that resulted in her not being able to read a single note despite learning the piano for 2 years...
• spit at my face...
• hid my handphone and house-keys, only to return them an hour later...
• hit me, when I asked her to correct a mistake...
• with all her strength, refused to count even when I have written out answers for her...
• told me to smell her socks, if I wanted her to learn a new song...

And the list is never-ending...

Sometimes, I wonder...how in the world have I managed to endure all these things for an entire year??...I am sure many of you may ask, why do I even bother at all??...surely it isn't worth the RM100/month that I am charging...teaching an hour a week...with her mum forgetting classes all the time, only to let me know when I was standing outside their house for close to 10 minutes...

Yeah, I ask myself that too...all the time...

I guess it has a lot to do with my inner good, I guess...despite her spoilt ways, I have always felt sorry that her music journey has always come to a "touch-and-go" cross-road...that in her 2 years of music learning, she has learned from 5 teachers, one after another...I am the unlucky nu.6...not one teacher stayed with her longer than a couple of months...which is rather sad, if you come to think of it...

And in the short span of time that I've been teaching, I have always believed that nobody should get left behind...that everyone deserves a chance to be exposed to music...and this student of mine applies as well...I do not plan to be known as "The teacher who gave up on me"...though I must admit that I toyed with that fantasy in my mind several times....I still choose to believe that there is some good in her...that she is a diamond in the rough...just needing time to make a few adjustments...Also, Id rather I be dumped than her...at least I can tell myself that I've tried my very best to the end of that race...

Her mum decided to end my service due to the fact that "my daughter is consumed by tuition homework"...I, on the other hand, know that my service was terminated because I couldn't produce the same result as I have with her niece...whose progress has escalated since I took over...from simple songs to Bach inventions in less than a year...

What she didn't know that unlike her niece, who is able to handle my frustrations and petty scoldings...and practices almost everyday...her daughter pouts and shows a thundering face, even at the slightest change of my voice...shows a tantrum when I try reasoning with her...and screams at the top of her lungs when I have come to the end of patience and tells her firmly not to play anymore...only to see her mum smile with the devoted "Oh,-you-can't-imagine-how-cute-she-looks-when-she-is-crying" face...

And of course, her daughter never practices...oh, she plays the piano occasionally...but just those "Mary-had-a-little-lambs" and sorts...never moving forward...nor bothering too...

Am I happier now than I was before??...Yes, because unlike before, I don't feel as if my energy has depleted even before I start...I look forward to my day with a big-pearly-white smile, because I know that I no longer have double standards...and can teach with a clear conscience...though sometimes, I still feel the hurt...disappointment...that this girl has stopped lessons...hence her musical journey comes to a halt...

I can only hope that she will show her new music instructor (God bless that woman/man) more respect than she has to me...and whoever she/he is, I also hope that she/he is more resistant to verbal abuse than I...

Now, if you'll excuse me...I am going to Genting Highlands to celebrate this momentous occasion...*winks*...

0012 HRS, 2010

It was a full moon against the clear blue sky...colourful fireworks light up the night sky welcoming the new year...while the wind was quite still, cool breeze stroked my face as I was playing on a swing in a playground nearby...It feels good to be a kid once more...even if it was just mere 5 minutes...the firework display was on going around my neighbourhood...some, you know were lavishly spend...while others were kept simple and nice...

Kong-Ming lanterns (or sky lanterns as the Westerners would call it) were lit up and was set free to start its journey towards heaven...A traditional act of the Chinese following the story of the Three Kingdoms, these red silk lanterns held wishes of the desperate, the needy and the sincere-heart...praying for their loved-ones, or giving thanks for joyful events...others choose to believe that they are sending away their problems and worries in a dignified manner...either way, it was really beautiful watching them ascend towards the dark sky...completely serene and undisturbed...

Besides that, nothing seems to have changed much...My Utorrent is currently still at 3.6kB/s download...I don't expect it to go any faster than that these few days but that's alright...I am trying to start my year with more patience and perseverance...I have no intention of loosing my will to a dumb-arse Internet line, which I pay RM90/month for...which is quite expensive, even if you were to compare it to other countries...

The stupid credit card tax has not been waived...I still feel it is crackers to have to pay RM50 tax for a credit card...to fund a penniless government and their penthouse...politicians here are still dealing the racial cards...and the new electricity tariff will be announced soon...and on the first page of TheStar newspaper, in the excitement of greeting year 2010...there will be an increase price in sugar...surprises never ceases, does it?...

Malaysia has not snowed yet...still hot and humid as usual...*BAH!!*...Barbaric punk-like nerds still exist, in fact...they are still wading their way into an already crammed commuter...without complete disregard to the fact that there are people who needs to make an exit, in order that there would be room to accommodate them...I am still writing my year 2010 plans with scrape marks (an obvious error on my part, since I've dated them all as "2009" when it was suppose to be "2010")...my feet...my feet...has yet to grow an inch...still size 3, the last time I measured...*sigh*...

My heart is of course, slightly hopeful...a new year, a brand new start...and hopefully better politics...wait, did I hear one of my many cranial nerves says..."HAH, FAT CHANCE!!"?????

Talk about Luck!!...

An ode to 1st December 2009

Twas the week after Thanksgiving, I headed out for lunch.
My tummy was growling, mouth watering, so I set off for something to much.
Dried from cash, I stopped by an ATM machine,
It took so blardy long to register, I wanted to dose it with benzene,
There I typed my amount, A thousand Ringgit plus hundreds more,
Waited for another 5 minutes, my blood did boil, my legs were sore,
The ATM finally cracked into life *woohoo!!*, I hear yummy cash a-flippin' inside,
Lifted up a prayer of thanks only to find nothing comin' from its mouth open wide,
I waited a little longer, hoping that it was a mistake,
But an ink-less receipt shot out, stating that the money I did take...

A thousand Ringgit plus hundreds more,
May not seem much but keeps my month ashore,
Pay my rent, my petrol, my toll, my bills,
my food, my groceries, my gym, my ills.
I checked the other machines to confirm this nightmare
Praying that it was just another prank-ly scare
I dialed 1300-xxx-xxx with my heart in my mouth,
straining to listen for instructions, while my brain has gone south
Was told to wait for two hours before filing a report,
I gave her a little piece of my mind and many other sorts.

I went to the nearest CIMB bank to make my claim,
Vowing that if I don't get my money back, their good name I'll gladly defame
True that one may say that things like these do happen once in a while
But I having to suffer the consequences of their neglect just ain't my style
I filled in the form, details, trace number and all,
The counter lady flashed her Colgate Ad smile sayin, "It'll be FOUR workin' days before they call.
So that leaves me completely broke for one whole week,
with so many bills to settle my following days does look quite bleak,
Sat quietly at home, I did, not daring to move so much as an inch
I thought, If it was just a prank act, I'd let him/her go with just a pinch

Well, you'd thought that as long as one has credit cards, one will survive
I thought that too, till I reached the KFC drive,
"I'm sorry, mam but your credit card didn't get through", said the lad
Asking me to pay in cash, cash which I wish I have had
Having no choice but to call my personal hotline,
Rang my dad for help, I did...how many hundreds? I asked for nine (for the 'just in case's)

Returned back home, with no mood for food,
Marching towards my laptop, I wondered if this was only the prelude
My wonders were confirmed when my Firefox came crashing down
Some email replies unsaved, my face was slightly more than a frown
Several more tries and yet the same thing
Obvious isn't it, my luck is draining...

I clocked in my washing machine only to watch it go belly-up
Looks like I'll have to hand-wash, especially my skirt soiled with tomato ketchup
An order I made for a rubber stamp, simple as it may seem,
Upon my reaching the shop, a mistake I spotted and I released some steam
A positive point was that I was allowed for a carpet exchange, (the carpet I purchased didn't match my theme)
but seeing how my luck goes, I am not surprise if it catches fire first and goes up in flames...

And no, things didn't improve then...I refuse to dwell on them longer than I should...
It is times like these that makes me wonder...WHY ME???...
But then again...why NOT me???...

My Jinxie choronicles...

So, for company, I've got a 9 year old Electrolux schizophrenic washing machine (courtesy of the landlord who wouldn't take it back) that either wouldn't stop vomiting foam, or go into bouts of seizure whenever it feels like it...*man, try stopping an 80kg male from throwing a tantrum!!*...This is my first time handling a side-door washing machine...so excuse my ignorance...I am still learning...

Its base isn't stable, so it does a Red Indian dance about the dry kitchen while it does its spinning...Its label is so worn down, that I've got to go figure on my own, what all the knobs meant...and blardy hell, why so many knobs??...yeah, so I realized that this ancient relic was not born in the 21st century, but still...and the landlady wasn't much use...she was just as clueless as we are...testing the knobs as she wishes till they came out loose...and it doesn't help that this Electrolux model is so old, that it was impossible to google up online for its manual...

Now, on to Discovery Channel...here is what I've found out...

My washing machine is a female with a double PMS...and here is why...

• she is highly temperamental and unstable...despite all the buttons I push and knobs I turn...she remains silent till I coax her with some TLC...
• freezes without any apparent reason...in the middle of the washing process...
• And with maximum patience, it is possible to get it to perform trivial task...such as open the side door...
• sulks A LOT...at any given chance...

First of all, Jinxie...(yeah, I've given it a name...not that I am very fond of it...but we have developed a love-hate relationship along the way, y'know)...Jinxie would not start...I've checked the connections, checked the plugs...double checked it again...well, seeing how absent minded I could get at times...Power was switched on...but it just wouldn't get going!!...

Man, I never thought I'd say this, but guys really do have a magic touch!!...I've pushed every button I can see...restarted Jinxie...and nil...nothing happens...my boyfriend comes along, ejects Jinxie's side door open...closes it again...and voila!!...Water gushes out from the pipe, brilliantly...and churns like a baby...His magic touch doesn't stop with Jinxie...there was the water heater, computer printer, etc...but I will leave those for a next post...

So, Jinxie came back to live...not knowing very well how Jinxie functions, I allowed it to wash overnight, assuming that it would be ready for drying the next day...late next morning, after putting on the kettle boiler, I headed towards Jinxie and ejected the door...WHOOSH!!!!...water spills onto the floor and my dry kitchen was now looking more like a war zone...soapy water filled, drenched wet clothes, a really pissed off Lessajinomoto...and a laughing hyena of a boyfriend...somehow, Jinxie missed the spinning process...and vomited on me...I blame those stupid knobs...

At that time, I couldn't help but think...if there is a Man up there...he hates me... *sigh*

I've also learned that Jinxie comes with a heated water and spinning services too...altogether a brilliant idea...except that it consumes a lot of electricity...and...well, I've managed to live with cold water and no extra services....no point for all these luxury...so I plan on turning it off...now, if only I can find the "heater" button/wire so that I can turn/cut it off...

In summary, here are a couple of things I have come to know about handy-work and old houses...

1. Women and hardware rarely get along with one another...Leave those jobs for real men...
2. Don't be a smart alec and pour more into the kettle boiler, than it can take...chances are, it will take revenge on you...and you end up with the mess...
3. Women in general have butter fingers when it comes to nails and hammer...I've stopped counting how many nails I've bent...and how many times I've aimed at my thumb...
4. Never ever get too fancy lights...you'll have a helluva time just putting the pieces together...
5. Never overdose your cupboards with mothballs...I had "mothball-ed" Milo with milk, because of that...there are easier ways to die...
6. ....*will update the next time*...
   

Clowns Part 1 : I might just make it!!!...

Note : Skip to the last paragraph if you happen to be short of time...or uninterested...

The white painted "jolly" expression, marred by blood-red eyes...the fixed smiling face, that makes you just a tad more than apprehensive...those mega huge dark red boots...the crude and colourful baggy clothes with elastic suspenders...The offensively coloured hair...they were once thought as amusing characters who brings laughter to people's live...revealing to them a whole new world of magic and entertainment...More often than never, now they seem to be anything but that...well, in the movies, at least...

I've never hidden the fact that I always had a fear of clowns since childhood...its called "coulrophobia"...man, I didn't know it was so common, that they actually have a term for it!!...I just found out online a few days back...I never was scared in the rigid-with-shock-and-panic kind of way...more of a case of the heebie-jeebies...seeing a particularly malevolent sight of a clown would cause my stomach to come undone...and I will avoid anyone and everyone dressed as a clown...be it the jolly old one down the street...

People may ask...why the extreme??...Let me make it absolutely clear...that I am now all grown up...and have discarded beliefs about Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, clowns in the sewer, Mr. Sandman and all that jazz...even before I hit puberty...I am aware that there never were Santa's little helper elf that make tiny toys, and a Santa that knows if I were naughty and nice...There weren't any Tinker Bell's who was going to place a 50 cent coin under my pillow...I realized that for myself after my 2nd attempt of placing my baby tooth before going to bed...

St. Francis of Assisi once said..."No one is to be called an enemy...no one does your harm...you have no enemy except yourself."

I find that quite true...and applicable to every situation even for this...It isn't so much of a clowns' act that I fear...more of the mental image in my head that I am trying to escape from...vision of clowns that return to haunt my subconscious...that paralyzes me...of course, my imagination doesn't help...and has a tenancy to over-exaggerate...

My first encounter of this clown conundrum was thanks to Stephen King whose novel IT and the subsequent TV series about Pennywise, a sewer-dwelling, child-eating clown...It was in the early 1990s...when I have just finished the novel (I was about 9-10 years of age, I think...)...and was really excited when I saw in the newspaper that IT was to be screened on TV...the novel gave me the creeps...and being a young-blooded soul, I was eager to watch the show...and to be "pumped with the adrenaline rush"...after all, it was the first time I had permission to stay up...and, it was my first horror movie...

Nothing prepared me for the goriness of it all, though...That novel still scares the hell out of me...blardy thing...and I try to avoid it at all cost...For weeks after that, I felt the need to check under my bed before I went to sleep...look down the sink cautiously as I brush my teeth...leave the dirty dishes till the last minute...till it could wait no more...Everytime I think 'clown'...I see Tim Curry's portrayal of Pennywise...the sheer horror that inspired in me, even at my age now...my hair stands...

So after all this nonsensical chatter...I am sure you would be asking...what am I doing to overcome it??...well, first of all, I have just finished downloading the TV show It (1990)...*my sanity here is questionable...I won't deny it*...I am going to watch it once more...and see where and which scene exactly that hits my nerve...maybe if I know and determine where I first got scared out of my wits...I'll know that there isn't much to be fearful of in the first place...save me thousand of dollars in therapy, wouldn't you agree??...hell, now that I am seeing it with adult eyes, I might just laugh through it all!!...Note: MIGHT...

Krusty the Clown (from Simpsons) may be the ONLY clown that I can look at, without a cringe...at many times, it help tame the dark images that toys with me...for a short while...but still...

Black Sun...

What would you do, if you had a really, really bad day...and everything that you do just coincidentally goes wrong??...

a) go through a self destructive mode...splurge yourself with money that you don't have...ram your car on someone's gate...hoping that the other party will have a worse day than yours...shove all your stationery on the floor...your life is messed up...doesn't make a difference if your room should look the same...

b) shut everyone out for a while...and throw yourself a self-pity party...have some booze and potato chips...and plant yourself in front of the telly till your butt grow fungus...

c)...(I'll add when I can think of one)...

At the moment, I am doing option B (without the booze and chips...yet), while practicing self-control to resist from opting for option A...

Hope you've had a better day than mine...*sheepish grin*...

Travel : Phuket Lesson 101

When one touches down on Phuket International Airport, he would know that he will be heading for the people...people come here for two reasons :

1. the Thai girls...somehow prostitution here is legal...sadly this is where the money is for them at the moment...'tourist' will spend a month or two there...for good company...and some other things...

2. to enjoy what the beaches and the sea have to offer...beautiful corals, great ski-ing place...kayaking, canoeing among many other activities...and last but not least, a heart melting sunset...

For those opting for option #1, they are usually sun-bathing in the morning...and back in the hotel by sun down...for more intimate activities...

As for option #2, we wake up early in the morning...have a hearty breakfast, and head for the speed boat which will bring us to our destinations...

Here is Lesson 101 : Before you jump down, learn how to swim...

If you don't fancy swimming, and yet would still like to look at some corals...

Here is Lesson 101.1 for you : Before you jump down, learn to put on a life jacket...properly...or ask the locals to do so for you...

I was on my first trip to Phi Phi Island, where the activity of the day was snorkeling, swim, snorkeling...tonnes of corals to explore...and so little time...the speed boat I was in, had about 30 people in it...2 families from Hong Kong, one from Sweden, another from Australia, 2 groups from M'sia (including us) and a few singles...

Our first drop off was at Maya Bay...for snorkeling...I being too excited, I think...was the first few to jump off...goggles only, and no life jacket...(yes, I am aware of the dangers...but I wanted to touch the sea corals, and the life jacket was restricting...)...

At first, I did have some problems keeping afloat...the current was strong, and there was the sea temperature to adjust too...so I swam near to the back of the boat, where there was a rope...and I held firmly to it, while taking a breather...

When all of a sudden, there was this 300 megaton hippo grabbed me on my shoulders and pulled me under...Caught by surprise, I had a few gulps of sea water, before I struggled to reach the surface once more...I looked out for the source...and, would you believe it...one fat dude (from the Hong Kee group)...had just jumped into the water...and was also struggling to float!!..the difference was...he does not know how to swim...I understood that he was fighting for his survival...but, crap...need he hang on to a small shrimp like me??...btw, he did have a life jacket...

The local guide tried to pull him up...somehow he slipped once more...and dragged me down again...TWO-ZERO...I could not swim away in time...and besides, the under sea current was pulling me towards his direction...and yes, I had a few more gulps of sea-water...blardy hell...and this time, I wasn't in the mood to be nice...

True, it may just be my luck, that I happened to be in the right place at the wrong time...I can accept that gracefully...but what pissed me off...was the fact that when the locals got him back on the boat, he turned to the tour guide, and scolded her for life jacket malfunction!!!...I was already up on the boat, watching this scene (I quickly climbed up after him, as I was tired after the struggle)...and it was obvious that he didn't buckle the strap between his legs...which not surprisingly, didn't keep him afloat...also, erm...there wasn't any life jacket that fitted him...he was WAY too big....

Not only had he the audicity to scold the tour guide in front of us, tourists...he was so self-absorbed that he didn't apologize to me!!...and yes, I was expecting an apology...why not??...true, it was an accident...and I was an innocent bystander who got involved...but still, I would expect some courtesy...some sort of an apology for inconvenience or rather...or at least, a little concern to see if I am alright or not...

But Nooooo....he never went down...and spend the rest of the trip (till the next stop, at least)...being his egoistic self, and proclaiming to his family/friends...how he struggled...and how he nearly drowned...and no thanks to the locals for pulling him up just in time...

And with all the salt water I drank...I really wanted to puke...literally...

So, learn to swim...if not, learn to put on a life jacket...properly...its for your own safety, after all...

Bloopers...

I had planned to hand in an official letter to my boss, about my intention to resign from my teaching position in his studio...and shift to another company, and also focus on expending my personal 'clientele'...

I have been in quite good terms with him throughout my two years of teaching...and if it wasn't for the higher commission which I am about to receive in this new company, I would have no other reason to leave...I have enjoyed working in this company...there was no interruption nor questioning, in terms of my style of teaching...and my demands of my student...there was a mutual respect, and I have nothing against him...well, the management is another story altogether...

So, resigning from this position did put me in quite a dilemma...I have a soft spot for my students, and I really hate confrontations of this sort...so I wanted to make it as painless and comfortable as I can...

I have pondered about what I should write in my resignation letter...Should I tell him that I have decided to move to another company??...if so, what reason should I state??...I had thought of coming clean, and just letting him know that he could try raising the teacher's commission...but man, if that goes wrong...one stroke of a pen...and I could be black-listed...just what I need...pissing a boss at the beginning of my career...

I feel bad, actually...I feel like I am abandoning his company for a selfish cause...call me the soft-hearted pussy all you want...so I typed my resignation letter with much thought (but no personal reason stated)...and clicked "Print"....

A box popped up on my computer screen...telling me..."Paper Out!!"...and complete instructions on how to load the paper...and restart the printer...Damn it...I forgot I have used up all my A4 paper...Hell, I thought...I'll just print it out in a used paper...and photostat it when I reach the studio later...

So I went about my business...teaching, meeting the parents, and all that jazz...then I managed to find time to creep out of the studio, to head for the photostat shop down the street...it was raining heavily then...but I was too caught up with my thoughts to bother...

The photostat owner photostated the letter for me, free of charge, that nice lady...then I headed to the stationary shop to buy an envelop...

I was thinking to myself then...hmmmm....The boss' mum just passed away a week ago...maybe I should get him a condolence card or something...just to sweeten the whole deal up...will probably put him in a good mood too...

So after choosing an envelope, I rushed to the card section, scanned through the little shelf, and took a card under the 'Sympathy' section, without giving it more than a read...I then parked myself in a little corner, and started writing on the card...

Had a small chat with the stationary lady while I was there...smart lady, she was...she somehow put together the jigsaw puzzle, and understood that both the letter of resignation and condolence card was meant for the same person...

"Erm, you're not going to send the resignation letter together with this card, are you??" the lady asked me nervously...

I replied..."Why not??"

In fact, that is exactly what I planned to do...just to get in the good side of soon to be ex-boss...yeah, I am apple polishing...so what...

"Erm, you may want to take a look at the caption in front of the card..."

I turn the card...written in nice Italic words...size 24, if I were to guess...

I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU...

Mummy's not coming home today...

He stars out of his bedroom window, his eyes blank and void of emotion...The clear evening sky was out to greet him...the sunset light caresses his face...but he never noticed it...the wind breathes a gentle cool breeze, playing with a strand of hair on his face...but he wasn't bothered...

Weeks before, the telly had gone on and on about special TV programs in honour of mothers and their sacrifices...Florist and gift shops wasted no time in planning promotions and packages in celebration of Mother's Day...His friends have been excited and boasting about their plans to surprise their mother...breakfast in bed, a little red rose, a great big hug, a kiss on the cheek...and all that jazz...

His friends wouldn't leave him alone, constantly bugging him about his own lip-seal plan for Mother's Day...well actually, he didn't have one...he never saw the importance anyway, but his friends would never put the subject to rest...tired of the harrassment, he sheepishly replied that planning was in progress...

He closes his eyes...trying to recall back the little memories he had of her...it wasn't much really...She left when he was 2 day old, in the hands of his father...without lingering touch, or the tinnest peck on the cheek...He does not know her name, nor does he have a photo of her...and his father didn't seem very interested to depart any information at all...

He thought that he did have a glimpse of her once, when he was four...a lady knocked on the door of his house years back...he opened the door and greeted the stranger; a tall willowy figure, compared to his 2 feet tall body...

"Hi, son..I am your mo-...", she started before being interrupted by a call from his father back in the kitchen...

His father was just walking out when their eyes met...and his father's countenance changed...The lady wanted to borrow some money...but that was all he heard...for the next thing he knew, he was carried up to his bedroom and was firmly told to stay there...

There were many a times he felt a twinge of sadness and pain whenever he sees his friends run to their mums for a long awaited embrace...Makes him wonder what that would have felt like...But as the years passed, he has grown numb to it all...He does not feel much pain; or so he thinks...hot bitter tears still accompany him to sleep at times...

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door...

"Heys, I am starving...Do you wanna join me for some Domino's Pizza??"

He smiles...His father looks exhausted, and didn't look like he was in a mood to cook...which was good...his father would not be able to tell the difference between a wok and a frying pan at all!!!...

But nevertheless, he was home...

[Legal disclaimer] : I am well aware today is Mother’s Day. I wish all my friends who are mothers, and my mother, a Happy Mother’s day. Today, however, I’d like take a different route and remember those who do not fancy celebrating Mother’s Day because they find no meaning in it. It is really sad, but that’s the reality. For those who do not have mothers and those whose mothers have left them, for some reason or another, my heart goes out to you.

Many a time, society’s thoughts flow on a one way street. I am always guily of forgetting that not everyone is as lucky as I am, or as fortunate...Hence, I am writing this to remind myself to count my blessings...

The story above is a real narrative of a boy whom I used to teach music to during my social working days...He later learned that his biological mother have always been living a lifestyle of the rich, and couldn't bear to be held down with the responsibility of caring for a child...He is now a degree holder in business management, with a dream to own a business of his own next year...I wish him all the best...

Boiling Frustration...

There's something about Astor Piazzolla that mirrors the frustration inside...Then the moment comes when you play his pieces, and all hell breaks loose...and you will find yourself relishing in the whole mish-mash volume of energy...His tangos are always either rhythmically intense or heart-breakingly lyrical...Like being smitten by someone so much, you don't know if you want to caress his cheeks or hug (or in the case of a one-side attraction; punch) the air out of him...

I know...I'm rambling....

I still don't get the diva-ttitude phenom and how it rises exponentially with talent...I am not generalizing here...Just giving my two-cents based on personal experience...I don't understand and I completely disagree the whole issue trying to take credit or stealing one's limelight...Jeez...before long you'd be thinking of how many people you need to brown nose and step on just to get to the top...Oh hang on, you already are...If you're thinking of working your 'womanly charms' to win em over, well... more power to you, sweetie...

Reality really bites...

I know, I know already...I'm rambling....

I want my vacation...NOW!!...

All in a days work....

Quite a purposeful day...for me, at least...

I managed to get a much needed opportunity to practice on the piano...refreshing, would be an understatement of how I felt when I placed my hand on the keys...these days I was feeling restless...as if there was something in the cosmic world poking at my back...but I couldn't figure out what it was...tried to brush it aside...trying to convince myself that I'd probably mis-placed something...and my subconscious is ringing a bell...or probably it is trying to remind me that I forgot something...well, if it was, it would be useless anyway...I have no clue to what I should be remembering that I ain't remembering...

But upon touching the keys, and playing some jazz standards; 'You Don't Know What Love Is', 'Body and Soul', etc...the restlessness melted away...and for once in so many days, I felt at home...the prodigal child has returned...

Goes the saying...

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Berthold Auerbach

Hence, I was able to produce some solid work during my piano lesson with my teacher...we discussed a lot about arrangements and big band sounds...the musical shades and colours...melodic contours...horizontal harmony...and triggering of an image...inspiring and challenging...really gets me on the move...

Decided to give myself a break and pamper myself with a reading marathon...Since I was looking into some fresh topics such as Sociology and Criminal Minds, I decided to head to Kinokuniya bookstore in KLCC...which was about 45 minutes drive from my teacher's place (including traffic jams and all)...got lost a bit, damn the stupid Malaysian road signs...but all was well...

Got bitten by an unknown bug, I think...while all the gals my age are enjoying chick lits such as Confession of A Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella, Sex and a City, by Candance Bushnell which covers the breadth of post-feminist issues like love, courtship, and gender...I am now going through the online crime libraries, reading about the unfortunate rape and murder of Anita Cobby, Caylee Anthony case, etc...all homicides that never failed to make me feel sick in the guts...the murderous details and thoughts of the criminal give me creeps...but nevertheless, my eyes were glued...my interest grows...in wanting to understand what goes through the minds of these souless souls...my curiosity has a much bigger appetite than I can imagine...

So while in Kinokiniya, I managed to rake up some books on criminal psychology...confessions of a serial killer, behavioural sience...nothing makes my day, than a good book to read, comfortable seats with background classical music...and of course, a cup of hot coffee for the finishing touch...

Then comes the most memorable part of the day...I made my way down to the parking lot, and queued up to pay my parking ticket...I didn't bring much cash with me...just RM15, as I didn't plan on buying anything in the bookstore...I took out RM10 from my purse...I didn't know how much exactly was the parking rate in KLCC...but I gather it should be about RM2 per hour...making my whole bill to an approximate RM9 seeing that I've spent exactly 4 hours and 24 minutes in that mall...

I slot in my ticket..."Please pay the amount shown on the display," the stupid machine repeated in a most monotone lady voice...I looked up on the screen...RM13.50...WHAT the???!!!!...Forgive me...but I very nearly cursed aloud...I couldn't help myself...I looked around...for a moment, I thought the machine went nuts...then my eyes caught the sign listed with the parking rates...RM3 per hour...blardy hell...I then suddenly remembered why I have always refrained from driving to KL town, opting to take the monorail instead...man, that was complete daylight robbery!!!...

I made my way to my car...RM13.50 poorer...was thinking, that I might as well have bought the book, and left earlier instead...at least, my money would be well spend investing on a book, instead of contributing to this high-class mall and its taxes...but on the other hand, if I had left earlier, I would have been caught in a peak hour traffic jam, which would have annoyed me terribly...either way, I still lose...I had tried to save myself some cash by reading books of my interest in the bookstore itself, instead of purchasing them...but I guess my efforts are all down the drain...*sigh*...

Was lost in my thoughts for a moment there...and when I looked up, I realized that I have walked way past my car, and got slightly disorientated...no worries, though...just a slight detour...car should be just around the corner...nil...well, probably the other corner...err...nope...haha...those poor guys in the car who was looking for a parking space...I didn't realize that they were tailing me with a hope to get one...it broke my heart to wave them away, and see their flickering hopes vanish...NOT!!...haha...cruel, aren't I??...*grin*...I was exaggerating...of course, I never thought of that...But after a while, I finally decided to head back to the parking machine booth, and start from there once more...when I reached, I realized what my problem was...I was in the wrong floor/level...I paid my parking ticket in P1, while my car was parked at P2, a level lower...blardy hell...

Got into the car, and headed for the road...Man, the last time I drove to KLCC, was light years ago...The signs were most helpful, though...a bit to helpful, perhaps...cause it wrote the names of every street nearby the mall, and showed the arrow, left and right...that will lead you to that specific street...such an ingenious idea, isn't it??...the problem was, they have then put misery upon people like me who are completely uselss when it comes to street names!!!...Don't recognize a single one of them...Pinang Street, Tun Razak street...hopeless...

Tossing a coin, I decided to head for Pinang Street...the road took me to Impiana Hotel, and I just followed the traffic from there...I saw a road sign on my right, that writes "Cheras", the destination that I am suppose to head...the taxi in front of me, turned to the right, following the sign...so I did as well, tagging behind him at a consistent speed...and while there wasn't a traffic jam, there were plenty of cars...still, I was not panicking...as long as I followed the traffic...

Suddenly, the taxi swerved to the left...no light indicator switched on, nil...man, what a road jerk!!!...when all at once, I understood why he did what he did...the lane he and I was in, the most right...was headed for a hidden tunnel...with a sign in white, and bold green letters...KLCC PARKING...blardy hell...stupid road signs!!!...what are the signs for, if they are placed in a position, impossible to view...till its to late for the driver to make a safe turn??...damn it...

While the taxi managed to escape from entering the fateful tunnel, I on the other hand, weren't so lucky...there were many cars behind me, and I was to much an obedient citizen, to cross the double line drawn on the road...so I went in...took another parking ticket...again...and came back out...thank goodness, that the first 15 minutes of parking entry is free of charge...

Well, that was the Lessajinomoto adventures for the day...If I were suffering amnesia in years before, I am telling you that I am remembering everything today...

#1. Never ever drive in KL, unless you are willing to have your life considerably shortened...the stress, handling both the traffic, and brainless moronic drivers...is just ain't worth it...chances are, a majority of people working in KL town suffers from high blood pressure...I could feel mine just tipping the scale...

#2. KL shopping, are meant for the yuppies...the parking rate says it all...man, RM13.50 can last me two main meals (rice, veg and red meat and a cup of chinese tea)...and even that, I would have balance left!!!...

#3....ah well, if you happen to have any tips on surviving in KL, do drop me a note...

Been feelin' like a jerk...

I once had a close friend that was dear to me...

She has been hurt much, and there has been many times I cried for her...as she shares with me, her personal problems and her struggles, I feel her pain...and yet, I know that I am not the person to counsel her...God knows, that her pain is way past the surface...and would need a qualified counselor to get her through this well...all I could do, was be her friend...be there for her when she needs me...be her shoulder to cry on when she calls...and keep her in my prayers as I bid the night goodbye...

That was in year 2003...about 6 years ago...through the years, she has been loved...many friends gave her care...lend her an ear...gave her shelter, for a moment's escape...prayed for her...as for me, we grew closer as the years passed...at first, I felt that she demanded a lot of my time...meeting her a couple of times a week, and 3 hours in average, each date...but I managed to convince myself that it was worth the sacrifice, as she goes through emotional healing...

Time passed, and I thought that she was be strong enough to stand on her own. to feet..I believed that she was...it seemed as if she was...as months passed, I decided to draw clearer and clearer lines about our meets, and the time that we could spend together...I was in KL then, studying and working full time...not to forget that every leisure minute I have, I have to spend them on piano and violin practices, and extra band rehearsals...I was physically and emotionally drained...so it came to an agreement that we would meet once a month, and when I am on my college break...

This went on for 3 years...there were times I were not able to answer her calls, or reply her messages immediately, as I was either in class, or working...and doing so, would reflect my un-professional-istic ways...so while waiting for my call/reply, the demon would brew thoughts of insecurity within her...and I would then re-organize my words, and explain my situation nicely...so that she would know that I still do care for her...

She understood my situation...or so she says...for after some time, she messaged me to tell her that I have hurt her too many times that she could not continue with the friendship no more...and that was that...that hurt me...and hurt me deep...I kept quiet...and explained to her, that although I felt disappointed, I accepted her decision...

It was only then, that she replied saying that it wasn't her intention to end the friendship, but it was a way she used to "get my attention"...unknowingly, that hurt me even more...it made me feel cheap...and I didn't know what to think...I admit that I am quite naive and idealistic in many ways...and that is my downfall...She wanted to continue the friendship, but my heart isn't wanting...my mind tells me to "forgive and forget" as she asked of me...but it was easier said than done...Forgiving wouldn't be my biggest hurdle, but fear...so I kept quiet...

I was tired...I still am...I recall back the many times she shares her frustration and rants...to date, I realized that many a times, the issue isn't only with the people that hurt her...but is the fact that I feel, she is still gripping hard to the past...sometimes, I wonder if she unconsciously feels happy holding people guilty sometimes...I know it is cruel of me to think that way...

I came to that conclusion, because of the situation that is before me...she says that I have hurt her much, by not spending time with her...but I did and have made it clear, that since I am being more occupied with my studies and work; I would not be able to spend as much time as I did before...when I was gallivanting my time away...she says she understood...but if she did, I believe that she would not feel the need to seek my attention as she did...but ah, I am not a shrink, so who am I to say...

And now, she has taken a step further, and tried to commit suicide...I am not sure how, but that was the message she sent me...the latest news is that she went for another counseling, and discovered that she was suffering from self-rejection...and she would be going through another bout of healing...

So here is my confession....

6 years ago, I cried for her...I allowed her to enter my life...and I symphatized with her...no matter how much the time it required of me, it didn't matter...as long as she was heard...and knows that she is loved...friends and counselors came to help...and I knew she was in good hands...

But it looks like, emotionally...nothing significant has changed after all...she is still hurting...and depressed...even to the point of suicide...the circle continues...

Last time, I would rush to her, at every call, every cry...today...I find myself hesitating...holding back, just a bit...I feel like a jerk, for even wondering...could she be trying to get people's attention??...

I want to believe she isn't...but my thoughts can't deceive me...

Now, I am beating myself up...I wish I could be there for her...to tell her that I care...that she needs to hang on tight...that I would want to help her...

But I hold on to the telephone...I am not the person that she needs...her pain, isn't something I am capable of handling...as much as I would want to lend a hand...I am not sure I can trust her with my heart...not the way I have in the past, anyway...

I see friendships in black and white...if I can get along with that person, he/she holds my heart...110 percent...I may not keep in touch with everyone of them...sometimes even for years, but they are in my thoughts...and for those I decided that is not worth my while (jerks of wat-nots), I would not even bother saying a sincere hi...so call me a snob...I believe my definition of friendship will be clearer as I see more of the world...but it will stand as it is now...

I feel like crap, being caught in this dillemma...for any friend, I would have stayed by their side...and fight for them...then why do I find myself hesitating??...

This is one that I can't sort out...or at least, I am afraid of the answer, that I may already know...but may not be ready to admit...

The Little Shop of Horror...

"TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW, PRIVATE or join your fallen comrades in the darkness of the abyss!!"...

I stand resolute and silent, determined not to give in to the demands of this wretched animal...I look into the eyes of my team mates, trying to find in them a flicker of strength, as mine was waning...we never really had a chance to know each other to a personal level, really...I mean, we all have our day jobs...I am a musician...and a music teacher...the guy with a swollen jaw and in chronic pain, is a cook down the street where I lived...the lady standing beside me...I see her occasionally, bringing her daughter to the playground in the evenings...and many more...the eyes of my fellow brothers mirrored how I felt...how we are fearful within...wanting to piss our pants...how we were tempted to surrender to the ridiculous expectation of this insane villain to save our neck...but we were here together on a mission...and we will see that it is accomplished...no matter what the cost...

All of us, awaiting our fate with our arched enemy who dragged us to this House of Death...

"WHERE IS THIS I.R.S. BASE??!!...TALK!!!"...he screams at the top of his lungs like a mindless lunatic...going all manic, while all his servants look on from where they were standing...

A slap landed on my face...with a force so strong, I was flung to the left corner of the room...my nose started to bleed profusely...my breath heavy...

"Still quiet, eh??...Well, we have special ways to make people talk..."...

Still silent...

"To the torture chamber!!"...he roars, so close to my face, I could smell his foul breath...his two assistants grab my arm, shoving me quite roughly towards an intimidating room...I know that room all too well...many of my fellow mates went in...some made it out barely breathing...others, I've yet to know their status...I raise my hand in protest...I am perfectly capable of standing on my own two feet...gathering my courage, I insist on retaining my dignity and walking upright...instead of being dragged on my knees like a whipped cow...I must say, that I thought I felt my heart flutter an irregular rhythm...butterflies in my stomach, thinking what they would do to me...I wish they would gas me, so I could skip a level, and join my fallen brothers in heaven...but no such luck...they know that death would only be to easy...and they needed me to talk...

There it was...that chair...innocent looking to a child's eye...but we all know what happens to the poor soul who entrusts his/her life on it...the light on the ceiling shone upon it, giving it more attention that it deserves...otherwise, the room was cold, musky and dark...yet, I am not deceived...hidden in this room somewhere...were tools/objects with different degree of sharpness...some were drills, meant to puncture a hole in your skull, so that they could enjoy your brain juice...and is that an electric switch with some electrodes on it??...I can't really see clearly...maybe it is...but I sure hope its not...saws of various kinds, some to cut off a part of your body anatomy...others, just enough to make you bleed to death...axes of different size...sledge hammers...swords so long, and shiny...they seem to glint in the dark...and I'd bet a hundred dollars that those barrels standing quietly in the corner were acid cyanide...I felt a chill run down my spine and shuddered...there are blood stains everywhere...undeniable evidence of excruciating torment and butchering of my mates...Even now, I can hear agonizing screams of my brethren in the next room...God bless them all...

And I am next...

Without an invitation, I take my seat on the chair...the assistants takes my hand to each end, and ties them just in case I put up a struggle...or so they wish...I promised myself, that I will never bring shame to my family's name...promised to face the agony without a flinch...I will stare at the fear and evil, dead in the eye...I will have my victory some day...I will not give this Sadist a chance to gloat and cheer in my expense...

My torturer comes in...snickering and grinning away...

"So how is my 'patient' feeling today??"...he sneers mockingly...

Not a squeak from me...

"Are we both ready for some fun?...I know I am!!"...he laughs in glee...more evil sounding than the devil himself...but I keep my silence...

He wears his rubber gloves...and lowers the upper half of my chair so he can take a good look at me...

Be still, my heart...Pain and other emotions can be controlled...you just disconnect it...at least, that is what John Conner's father said in the 1st Terminator movie 20 years ago...

"Why so serious??!!!...Let's put a smile on that face, shall we??..."

This sadistic butcher looks hideous even in the dark...his facial scar that stretches from his right eye to his lower left jaw...his wrinkled and soulless eyes...almost void of emotions...bad breath, black and blue spots on those broken-sized ugly teeth....his pimply moon-crate faces...leaves much to be desired...plus the fact that he was perspiring, left an unpleasant stench in that already unpleasant room...

The assistants holds me down, one with a gun to my head...another, a knife to my throat...The spotlight is burning into my eyes, so I close them...say a prayer...and embrace myself for another session of 'friendly interrogation'...

I hear him start the drill just above my ear...

"Well, well, my friend...shall we start??"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just so you know, my 2nd visit to the dentist wasn't all that bad...beside my nerves being an extreme wreck, my visit was some-what fine...the lady dentist wasn't all that wicked and irrational sounding as I pictured her to be...And she DOES NOT have bad breath...of course not...quite a sweet petite lady, if I may say so myself...the room quite bright and relaxing...the music soothing to the ears...(though quite annoying, as it was on repeat mode the entire time)...

3 fillings, and I was out of there...quite relieved, actually...that discoloration on one of my back tooth have been bugging me long enough...I finally managed to get it off my back today...and the old silver fillings, I had them replaced, so that the colour matches the one of my tooth...it does not stand out so much...the vain-pot that I am...

I am still quite nervous just thinking about the ordeal...I remember the dentist constantly having to remind me to breathe through my nose, instead of my mouth...as my hot breath was creating moisture on her small mirror every time she was working on me...

And to be honest, at that time, I could not even tell for sure...which I was doing...breathing through my mouth...or nose...

But I made it!!!...I didn't cry for my mum as I thought I would...I didn't flinch as much as I would have had years before...and I walked out of that dratted room with not more than slightly wobbly legs...

That is quite an achievement, wouldn't you agree??...*grin*...

I am reminded of something my kindy teacher once told me...

"I can forsee you being a dentist in the future...you have such a talent in causing pain!!"

I rest my case...

Now, if I could only summon my courage that easily...to see my hair-dresser for a new hair-cut...not so soon, though...I need to recover from my recent experience...

Stay tuned!!

Modernism vs culture...

Ah...you've got to love and hate celebrations at the same time...this is the time where food takes a strong presence in celebratory festivities...

Chinese New Year (CNY), especially...there is always another reason to put aside one's diet, isn't there...*grin*...These are one of those times when weight-watchers are put to the test...(not me!!!...hehe...)...and most often then not, they fail to prevail...

My holidays have finally started...*yipee!!!*...the excitement mounting, adrenaline pumping...its almost like I am rolling up my sleeves, and getting ready to sprint run...towards the multi-course culinary feast, that is!!!...

My family does not really celebrate CNY in a very big way, though...While neighbours lavishly decorate their houses with traditional red paper lanterns, poetic couplets written on red paper, repaint their houses, etc...mine would just go through the normal routine of giving the house a mega-cleaning up...you hardly see much red in my house...the only tell-tale of the celebration would be the shamelessly large amount of food, stored up for the event...*grin*

(Note : colour RED is believed to be able to scare away evil spirits and bad fortunes)...

If it wasn't for grandma, we wouldn't be observing the taboos and superstitions so strictly...while we have nothing against superstitions, my grandma would create the most embarrassing commotion should we ignore any of them...leaving the entire family all tensed up...so we would usually humour her a little, and try to keep to the taboos as much as we can...

Man, come to think of it, I can barely remember all the superstitions that I was not suppose to forget...erm...

• purchasing new clothes, enough to last the 14 day celebration (my family only buys enough to last ONE day),
  
• no using of scissors and knifes (for fear it will cut away fortune and prosperity),
  
• no cleaning of house on the first day of New Year,
  
• no washing of hair on the first day New Year as well...(it is believed to be washing away your own luck)...of course, I would insistently argue then...that modern hygenic concerns should and will take precedence over this tradition...hence, have been ignoring this taboo all these years...much to grandma's despair...
• no purchasing of books as the word 'book' in Cantonese sounds all too similar to the word 'lose'...I almost always forget that, unfortunately...

Of course, there are other superstitions that I hardly keep...bathing myself in pomelo leaves, for example...that is suppose to keep me healthy for the rest of the years...personally, I believe that I am what I 'invest' in me...should I decide to drown myself in whisky and alcohol, increase my junk food consumption, ignore my gym membership, not keep up with personal hygiene, poison myself with cocaine...even bathing myself in a house-fill pomelo leaves and aromatherapy would not save me...

Now that I think of it, I am not sure if living in ignorance and bliss about our Chinese superstitions is actually a good thing...I am not saying that I believe bad luck would befall on me, just because I should forget any of this traditions...but I feel that these traditions outline our Chinese culture...our very identity, brought from the past...

Probably I should try keeping to these superstitions, not just to seal my grandma's nagging...but also with a hope that my children, and my children's children will also have a chance to remember their roots, and have a certain connection with their (almost diminishing) ancient culture...

Are you kidding ME???!!!!

Note : This happened a couple of months ago, but I could never bring myself to post it up, as I found it a tad too depressing...so here it goes nothing...

She always had the best relationships with food, as far as she could recall...thanking God for blessing her with good genes, that enabled her to gulp down any amount of food, of different varieties without a second thought...though she dislikes the sight of raw-eggs, she was also grateful for the fact that she isn't allergic to any sort of food...and have been able to enjoy a humongous range of food for her 20 plus years of life...

Cheese...especially...ah, the food of the gods...God's second best gift to human race...Cheese...*salivates...*

If there ever was one food that she would have chosen to eat for the rest of her life...well, besides seafood, ....cheese would be it...

She loves cheese...she really does...She could never turn cheese down...ever...In fact, if anyone were to ask her what she would like for her b'day/Christmas/Valentine, etc...it would be a bouquet of roses, and a large box of cheese...more cheddar cheese, if you please...a Danish blue cheese would be a great addition...oh ya, throw in a Limburger cheese as well, for personal touch... (the list of demands never stop, does it?)

The taste...you can't miss it...the tangy flavor that is bound to drive your taste bud all loony and bonkers...Nachos with cheese paste, enchiladas, grilled cheese sandwiches...French fries too...cheese cakes...a perfect compliment to a glass of red wine...the full sense of its deep, sour-ish spasms inter-twined with a mild twinge of saltiness before it mingles with the alcohol and slides right down your throat...leaving an aftertaste...your taste buds yearning for fresh supplies...is there a more perfect food that that??...

Then there came the fateful day...she could have never seen it coming...even if she had, she wouldn't have believed it...impossible to comprehend...20 plus years of enjoyment coming to a halt...

She threw up...

Real bad...

Took note that it only happened after she devours a big pan of pizza, or spagetthi with mozerella cheese...or a small tea-spoon of marble cheese cake...

Went to the docs after a week of continuous throwing up sessions...(well, she did have several takes of cheese that week...every alternate day, actually)

"Hmmm (gives her this wise-arse look)...cheese seems to be the culprit here...I think you should stop eating anything cheese-based...your stomach doesn't seem to be producing enough enzimes to break it down...hence your throwing up..."

"@%$#(&^#$@*&#$#%^#*@#$*!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Tragic, you would say??...It is a CATASTROPHE, that's what it is!!!...

~ feeling extremely short-changed...

CBKD

I have always managed to convince myself...though there are countless books that I have purchased and yet not read, I will still be able to catch up with my reading when I retire...yea, and Samy Vellu will be Prime Minister tomorrow...heard the latest news?? (...Man, I've not posted anything on this guy for eons!!!)...

I was just thinking...if I were to compile all the books that I have YET to read, from every corner of my house, I suspect that I will be looking at quite a number of trees that I have deprived Mother Nature of, and having wasted gallons of poisonous printer ink...

My books can be found in all crook and nooks of the house, starting from my room (back in hometown), to my brother's, my parents, my washroom, the dining area, the living room, car, and to my dad's house in Kuala Lumpur...and my room here...My mum have persistently said that I should start 'giving them away so that it can benefit others'...but I have never done so...

I suspect I am suffering from CBKD = Compulsive Book Keeping Disorder...

Yes, so what if I made up those acronym on my own just a while ago...it may not be in the Biology books for now...but someday it will find its way there, for sure...someday...if there is ever such a disease, I am positive I have it...

I keep...

Books that are page-turners, because I may feel the urge to read it again one day...

Books that taught me something...because I may need to reminded of the lessons I've learned...

Books that has followed me since childhood...because I might just want to go back being a kid one day...

Books that were given to me as present...for its sentimental value...they may be a crappiest books ever sold...but I'll still hang on to it...

Books that are boring, because I might just need them, should I have difficulty sleeping...

Books that are expensive, because of the price I've paid for them...

Books that smell good...because...well, because they are MINE, of course!!!...

This is a shameful thing to say...but with so many trees sitting in my house, I am very much guilty of the fact, that at least one tree, has died for baseless reasons...me accumulating a collection of books, that I know I may or will never touch...

At this rate, I'll probably need to just stop working tomorrow...and spend my remaining years reading one book every few days...so the trees would have lived an accomplished life...and so would I...And what's best is, thanks to my ever-fading memory, I may never need to buy another book ever again...I would just need to 'eeny-minny-minnie-moe' through my old books, and voila!!!...I am bound to find one, that my memory cease to remember...and it would be as if, I am reading a fresh material once more...

I hate this...you may laugh...but I am not a wasteful person by nature...so looking at all these books starving of love and attention, does prick my side a little...well, a lot...Hence, I will now devise a plan to reduce the ever-growing mountain by...putting a book in my car, and bathroom...so I could finish off a couple of lines when I have an appointment with nature...but yes, I know that isn't the best option...but it will have to do for now...

Maybe I should just stop reading book reviews...

Stop dropping by the book-store every time I visit a shopping mall...

Go cold turkey for the early half of this year...or until I have finished reading the books that are currently in my possession...

Go through all my books, and see if there are books that I don't plan on reading anytime soon...and give them away...

yea...M-A-Y-B-E...

Btw, the next book I am planning to get...Mein Kampf (English translated), by Adolf Hitler himself!!!...well, I know its available online...but I'd like to have it on hard cover so that I'd....Oops...

Something about Christmas...

Got stung by the Christmas bee early this year...Christmas isn't much in Malaysia...more commercialized that I had hope it would be...decorations and lights hung all over the shopping mall...christmas songs (remixed, mind you) played over and over again...

Well, there isn't much going on in the neighborhood, I must say...life still goes on pretty normal...we don't really see much Christmas excitement going on around...it is as if, Christmas celebrations are only contained in shopping mall and churches...nothing beyond that...though the celebration exist, the warmth does not...people here are kinda cold...no smiles, everyone going about their business...

Of course, millions of people swarm into the shopping mall, for the BIG YEAR END sales...I, on the other hand, go there to "wash my eyes"...it brings a smile to my face, whenever I see people buying gifts for their loved ones...imagining the smile and delight of their toddlers that Christmas morning, knowing how much care and thought their parents/loved ones have given into the choice of gifts...

I have always wonder how Christmas abroad would look like...a pure white Christmas, I would say...

Lights lit up, door to door...even around the trees...stockings hung near the fire-place...little children with their mittens crouching near the fire to keep warmth...snow-mans, and snow ball fights...hugs from one family to another...peace and good will wishes...everyone extends a merry Christmas...even to a stranger...beggars in the street are invited in to keep warmth....and of course, there are carolers as well...

I don't know about you...but there is something about the carolers singing that tugs my heart...singing all those Christmas carols, just warms my heart even at the darkest hour...

If it warms my heart here, I wonder how God would feel hearing the angels sing...

Have yourself a Merry Lil' Christmas!!!!...

p/s : (Photo taken by scottfeldstein displayed in Flickr)

Torn between the two...

Some say that dreams is a way your subconscious communicates with your conscious...as far as science is concern, dreams are sequencial images associated with REM (Rapid Eye Movement)...there are even those who believe that some dreams are sometimes prophetic...as Joseph of the Bible's dream was...

I highly doubt mine is...

Yesterday, I dreamt...my grandfather was gravely ill...and my dad was desperately trying to find ways to finance my grand-dad's medical fees...for some reason, we were in church then...and we received news...that my grandma had passed away on the operating table...apparently, she had chest pains and have admitted herself to the hospital...without informing any of us...

In that dream...I realized that despite all my frustration and my rants about her...I felt a deep regret that she had to pass on with no one by her side...

That was when I woke up...

Somehow I can't get my mind of that dream...and it keeps coming back to haunt me...not because I felt it was a bad omen in anyway...but it is because of the conflicting dilemma that is before me...

I have kept a safe distance between me and my grandma for quite sometime now...so that I do not find myself unknowingly trapped in her ever intertwining cob-webs...and yet, at the very same time...I feel guilty as it gives me no pleasure to do so...

Yet I know, upon inviting her into my life again, is just going to be a mere repetition of frustrations and manipulation...

I am not sure if I am prepared for that to happen again...

One thing to do, before I leave....

What the teacher is, is more important than what he teaches. ~Karl Menninger

I'll be leaving for Melbourne, Australia in the middle of December this year...and I have already made a list of the things I needed to do before I leave...among them are...

• catching up with my old mates for the last time
• settle my visa and passport
• get rid of my wardrobe, or at least...update them

And most importantly :

• MEET UP WITH MY SIXTH FORM TEACHER!!!....

Not for any good reason, I can assure you...its most probably an act, to spite and snicker at her...than a genuine interest to keep in touch....but let me explain...

Not only is she my sixth form teacher, she is unfortunately my chemistry teacher as well...as for me, while Additional Maths and Biology makes perfect sense to me, Chemistry does not...well, actually it does...its just that, I am so used to photographic memory (thank God for them)...it makes Biology and History a complete breeze for me...and well...its just difficult/almost impossible, to picture different kinds of molecules bonding together...double bond/triple bond...well, you get my drift...

Credit given to her, she does know her stuff well...she can drone on and on about concepts of quantum chemistry, statistical mechanics and kinetics without breaking a sweat, like the Energizer Bunny we all loved......(wow, amazing that I still do remember a couple of chemistry terms till now)...boring us till our ears bleed...

What is wrong with this whole thing, was how obsessive she was about this subject!!!...I still remember, how she would go about lamenting (she complains more then she teaches) about the lack of seriousness in us students, in taking this subject...I mean...how serious would you want us to be, man!!...we are already up to our necks, preparing for our major STPM exams...it doesn't hurt to have a chuckle once in a while, would it??...she really did sound as if she wanted us kill our sense of humour...the saviour of our insanity....

I also recall...how in her venting her frustrations, she would be slamming her hand, on the whiteboard...the door...her table...the wall...whatever she can find...shouting ever so dramatically...she would have made a good pastor, I assure you...then she would go back to her own past, telling us...how perfect her imperfect life has been...the kind of commando discipline she has instilled for herself...how she wakes up at 4am in the morning to jog for an hour and the half....and goes straight to school right after...(that, I am inclined to believe...as I always find her car parked on the same spot, at the same time...on the dot...and not a second earlier not later)...and how, by someone NOT owning a pencil box, builds character....

There was even an episode when she caught us laughing, after having pulled a prank at one of our class-mates...she bellowed her contra-alto voice across the room...and ranted like a beast, foaming in her mouth...then she threw herself into such a prima donna state...slamming on doors with much frequencies...then said...that we needed a good shake up...and asked us...

"WHAT WOULD YOU BE DOING, IF YOU KNOW YOU WERE GOING TO DIE THE NEXT DAY??!!"

...I've got to admit, that was one of the few times, I actually paid attention to her...for she finally said something, that I felt was worth reflecting upon...then I was awoken when I heard her continue...

"If I knew I were to die the next day, I would spend the night before, writing all the chemical equations, comb-bined it into a book, so that I can bring it into the coffin with me!!"....

*???????????????*

I was so stunned, that for a moment there, I wasn't even sure if I heard her right...it was only when my friends started snorting, struggling to supress their laughter...then I confirmed that I did get her right after all...

I mean, what the h*ll???....

If someone told me that I would only have 24 hours to live, I would be drowning myself in boozes, walking down beaches...soaking in every beautiful scenery I can take...spending time with my loved ones...

But WRITING CHEMICAL EQUATIONS on my death bed????!!!!.....

Who in their right mind would have thought of that??...ah, well...obviously my sixth form teacher isn't...in my opinion, anyway...I mean...is WRITING chemical equations going to buy her more time underground?...my brain is just unable to logic-fy (I am aware there is no such word) that act...and refuse to waste any more time doing so...

But that is just to share the extend of her enthusiasm she has, of the subject that she is so proud to teach...

Well, anyway...

Since I was generally weaker in Chemistry, compared to the rest of my subjects...we are understandably not the best of friends...and since I hate pretence, I didn't even attempt to suck up to her, for extra classes...My first mid-term results for Chemistry was a plain C...and while she would have jumped off London bridge, if she ever were to have a result like mine...I was genuinely quite ecstatic...

Plus the fact that I was quite busy, with other presidential responsibilities as well, competitions and theater rehearsals...she actually thought that I was just an empty shell taking up space and wasting oxygen...and she made a point of reminding me so each and every time she sees me...which is quite a lot, considering that she was my form teacher after all...

So, after all her taunts about me failing in life...just because I have decided that I would not be want to be found muttering H20 = H + 02, with my dying breath...I have emerged to become a musician...and am loving every inch of my life right now...

Sure, my life isn't a bed of roses...but I choose to believe that Experience is the my best teacher...though it ain't the most pleasant...

And even though I barely passed my Chemistry exam in my STPM (A Levels equivalent)...I am still standing tall...and not thinking of bending anytime soon...

Actually, I just want to visit her....just to show her that I've proved her wrong...that there is more to life than just basic Chemistry...at that she really has got to let herself go a bit...

And no, I have not a wee bit intention to keep in touch...as ungrateful as I may sound...in fact, with complete honesty, she is one of the teachers would contributed nothing into my life...except for psychological damages...and detrimental demoralization...

But I guess...it was thanks to all these mental anguish...that I have been forced to whip myself into shape...or I would have already fallen apart...