All I did for Christmas...

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Red, Yellow, Green

Never under-estimate the power of traffic lights. A mere pole with 3 colored bulbs can cause life-changing events.
A 30min journey home last night took me a whopping 2 ½ hours. Why? Faulty traffic lights. As my car inched its way, bit by bit, till 50m away the traffic light, it suddenly came to a standstill. All of us were sitting in our motionless cars breathing in carbon-monoxide for a good ol 20mins. Alamak… what’s wrong laa? Just let me go a bit more…

Turned out it was jam-locked at the intersection. Cars were turning right, cars were turning left, cars were going straight – nobody wants to give way. They seem oblivious to the huge jam they’re causing, sitting in their cars pretending nothing’s wrong. You don’t want to give way ah? Don’t give lo.. I also don’t want to give. We sit here and wait till who gives lo.
The traffic lights then came back up. Still nobody gave in.

A man, a few cars ahead of me, got down. Clearly pissed off, he went to the intersection, said something to those selfish arseholes and restored traffic. Cars were moving and I’m one-step closer to home.
Hallelujah!

In this time of age, common sense is no longer common anymore. The man had enough sense (common, of course) in him, to put things right, what we already know is right. Hey, I’d do the same too. But me, driving alone, handbag on the passenger seat, purse containing $20… what if in the midst of me being heroine, some motorcyclist swerve in grab my handbag, or worst drive my car away? Gender-prejudiced I am, but let the men handle this.

To the man in the Mercedes, WMS 5665, you have my sincerest utmost respect.

When I grow up...

Su was asking me, if I had a choice, what would I choose to become?
When I was a little girl, I remembered I had many ambitions -mostly influenced from TV- some intelligent, extravagant and some downright silly . (To quote my Stranger, women are fickle-minded)

1. Scientist – I like catching bugs and can admire their itsy-bitsy bodies for hours
2. Dancer – Leslie’s backup dancers look so darn good on stage
3. Teacher – so that I can understand the euphoric sensation; the each time my English teacher whacks me with a double-bounded-wood ruler ( Being me, I can still remember her name, Puan Usha Rani. And now fate has it, that she’s teaching in the same school as Mom! I can seek revenge! Muahahahaha... Nooo... my stranger tells me I should forgive, Be the Greater Person. Okaay…let’s try with her…)
4. Nurse – the doctors on TV always look so handsome

Couple of years down the road, I’m an engineer. Never appeared in the list. Never thought I’d become one either. I did it out of filial-piety. But hey, it pays well (or so I think…)

Back to Su’s question: I want to be a baker. I get such a crazy feeling seeing plain bland dough transforming into something so majestically beautiful. I can start out in a little bakery, churning out hot potato buns then slowly climb my way up to The Loaf dishing out avant-garde Campagne Fromage.

Nah, I’ll be content for now, baking ugly brownies at home…

The Power of Holidays

I lurve holidays. Reasons below in particular order:

1. No work. (Yabba dabba do!)
2. Sleep all day.
3. Disturb people sleeping.

There's just nary worry in my head - no yield issues to close, no follow up work, no emails to reply, no people to call (even though I dislike them), no data to compile, no reports to generate, no documents to read - sheer oblivious ignorance. Bliss.
And you know what the best part is?
Couple ignorance bliss with some kick-ass chicken briyani. And mutton dhalca. And spicy chutney. And idli.
Fantastic!

To give you a rough picture on how fantastical I feel, I'm signing off with this.

Boleh buka boot?

I've never been stopped by police before. Up until last night, that is. We were on our way home from Eckywoobee and there was a roadblock in front. The policeman signaled us to the side.
(OMG, do I look that drunk?)

• Police: Selamat malam encik. Boleh buka boot?

Stranger got pulled out from the car to open the boot while the rest of us were asked for our ICs.
(Now, what? They suspect we're hiding drugs in the boot?)
A moment later, stranger came back and this was the gist of it.

• Stranger: You know what the fella said when I opened the boot? "Ini boot lebih besar laaa. Ini Toyota kann? Berapa harganya?"
• Stranger: We got pulled over because the police wants to check out my car!!!

All New VIOS. My design. My pride.

The Way to a Woman's Heart

No, it’s not roses.
No, it’s not pink roses.
No, it’s not 24 pink roses...either...

It’s the entire process flow of ‘getting flowers’.

1) It’s the effort of him calling the florist:

• Man: Hello? Get me 2 dozen flowers.
• Florist: What flowers do you want?
• Man: Just get me any flowers. 2 dozen. Oh no, wait a minute. Get me pink roses. (She likes pink)

2) It’s the effort of him picking up the flowers after a 12-hr shift in the wee hours of the morning.

3) It’s the effort of him driving to her house.

4) It’s the effort of him surprising her with a bouquet of roses at her doorstep.

That’s what a new-age, sensitive, modern, millennium man would do.
That’s what my stranger did =)

Beyond colors, beyond boundaries

It was a chaotic scene. There were people shouting, people shoving, people rushing.

The din was deafening. ‘Waiter!’, ‘more soup’, ‘bill!’ fills the air.

Peak lunch-hour period in downtown KL on a bright Sunday afternoon. Two strangers were seated among a sea of tourists at a BKT shop. He picks up a piece of meat delicately with chopsticks like a pro while she pokes her kailan with a fork just like any other kid brought up during the raging Fast-Food era.

Here’s the irony:

His dad's name is Santhana. Her dad's name is Lee.

The lady who took their orders muffled a laugh staring at these two weird strangers. In the midst of all the commotion, this scene just did brighten her day a little. “People just get weirder and weirder in this time and age…” she mutters…

Guess the old saying ‘opposites attract’ do hold true. The fact he knows how to use the chopsticks CORRECTLY and she doesn’t, oddly forms an attraction. (Haehehae)

Just like in the movies

Two complete strangers seated in the same room having induction together. One sitting in front another seated at the back. Neither knew of each other’s name nor existence. There have been times where their paths crossed, though neither of them really realized. Not until one stranger left, that fate brought them together.
Fate works in mysterious ways; magical, some would say. Our higher being up there has his own ‘sneaky’ ways for His children.

It started out with just a casual movie date. He just wants to watch a movie, while she was more interested in his tattoos. Not until then, did they realize they share many common similarities – passion for food, That 70’s Show, tattoo fanatics, 80’s music (yea, baby!)
Unashamedly, she admits. He’s irresistibly addictive and attractive.

He came. He saw. He caused many sleepless nights.

Why do Man Need Woman?

Men and women alike are in constant search of 3 things:

1. Human touch
2. Communication
3. The need to be needed

We all need the physical touch. And it's not sex I mean. Just like babies have to be cuddled and cooed in their growing stage; we adults alike need the physical touch. We need to cuddle together for warmth and comfort in this cold, selfish world, even if its only for just a moment.

We all need to communicate. To communicate at a stage where you can share something good you did, and the other party won't think you're bragging. The purpose is not to convey information, but just to tell each other "I am here, and I know you are here".

We all need to be needed. If no one needs you, what good are you? Yes, we are needed in many places; at work, in the community, society, but all these are superficial. If you're gone one day, anyone can replace you. But to that one man/woman, you're THE need. We need to be needed to boost our self-esteem to face a brand new day.

adapted from Readers Digest,2000

Fascinating, isn't it?
Now...where is my bolster for warmth & comfort..

--2 dozen years old--

Cake #1 - simplicity

Cake #2 - note Chinese version of 'michelle'

Cake #3 - sugary+creamy

Birthdays

Some people like it grand and loud, some people like it quiet and intimate. I remembered a couple of years back, when I was still studying, an "overly-concern" housemate organized a big get-together for my birthday. There were over 20+ people- some of whom I only know their surname, a big cake and plenty of Coke. A matter of fact speaking, none of them were there for my birthday. There were small cliques in every corner of the house, each of them engrossed in their own gossip for the day. I, on the other hand, had to put on a fake smile for pictures and 'entertain' them. It ended up with me having a 5cm-long cake, which I can hardly make out what flavour it was and a huge mess to clean up.

Nah, I don't even like people singing birthday songs for me. When you're surrounded and all eyes are on you, I tend to picture myself as a lamb surrounded by singing wolves. Birthdays can be traumatic in the wrong circle of friends.

I'm blessed to have 3 cakes this year (maybe 4, since Audrey is coming home) and yes, I insist on having the biggest piece. (to thriple confirm the flavour) But I like the cake Mom&Dad got me, best. It's no fancy schmancy belgian chocolate coated or decorated with imported Arabian espresso beans. Just a simple, round shaped, classic baked cheesecake. And even better, it's not mass-baked from one of those government-taxed franchises. You have to call and order from an old, rustic coffeeshop in Klang town where the waiters are old enough to be your grandpa.

Thanks for the sms-es, thanks for the calls, thanks for the cakes, thanks for the singing. (yea, can never escape the wolf-singing-lamb experience)

Even though it was different for the first time in 5 years, enjoyed I did.

Simplicity at its best:

Chong Kok Kopitiam, opposite Klang komuter station

Walking dumpling

12.27pm, the pantry

A: Mi-shell, mi-shell… wan ask u something veli serious. Sit down..sit down…
M: What?
A: U actually veli enjoy life or veli stress? (while giving me that look from head to toe, very obviously, indicating my weight gain)
M: I….. I know I’m fat-la.
A: No, no…selious wan…wad happen?
M: I moved back in with my family-ma, previously I stayed alone when I was studying. Now got home cooked food-ma.
A: U look better when u first join lor, I like your student-look. Now u look like, err…like ah sam who found rich husband. Veli hou meng dy, no need pretty pretty herself anymore. Ah sam-look.
M: …………..
(Aaah...the number of ways you can be screwed in)

It’s like a war zone out there, so they say; backbiting, suck up wannabes, hardcore politics…but nobody warn me about ego squashing. And pride trampling.
Forget the cunning hypocrites. It’s the geeky nobodys that you should fear.

Just when I start to believe Mom, that I have womanly curves…

Strange wonders

13 June 06
I was in HR Training Room undergoing my induction with a bunch of dumb, fresh-faced, wide-eyed freshies. First time into an actual working environment did overwhelm me a little; the centralized aircon, people rushing around yakking on phones clutching laptops, ‘little’ people in smocks and just to highlight, no one seems friendly. That’s not the point, anyway.
After that day, I’ve never stepped into that training room ever since.

13 June 07
I was in HR Training Room for my Poka-Yoke (pronounce as Po-Ka Yo-Khe) training. All of a sudden, it just hit me, wham! A year later, 365 days after, I stepped back into that same room. What do you call this, er, situation? Fate?

Fate.
n
The supposed force, principle or power that predetermines events.

It’s a tiny milestone achievement. Just a tiny little one, where the satisfaction & pride comes from within. I can proudly (or not?) state I have 1yr working experience.
Celebration? Indulge in 4 balls of Mexican tequilla shot chocs without any guilt. Nothing beats the rush of serotonin to the brain.

What changed in a year? Frankly speaking, nothing much, besides:
-womanly curves (I have to accept the damn fact, my derrière won’t go back to Std6 size)
-‘honk-u-back-you SOB’ driving attitude
-able to differentiate between Federal / NKVE / LDP / Kesas / Sg. Besi highway
-have a bit $$ to buy Mom perfume, Dad shirts, Bro Sony PS3 (jeez, small kids nowadays…)
-I have became very acrimonious

Which part are you in now?

Flattery

3.37pm, Daniela production line

B: It’s hot in here, huh? Don’t you guys feel it?
Many guys & a girl: It’s always hot in here.
B: Oh, I know why. Because today she’s here (pointing at her), she’s too hot.
A girl: Hahahahahahah
Many guys: (silent)
B: You know, usually when B makes a lame joke, subordinates will laugh with him. You guys aren’t laughing, only her.
A girl: Hahahahahahah x2

From a whisper to a scream

Scene 1
I woke up grumpily by the annoying sound of ti ti ti ti, ti ti ti ti. Groped down the stairs for water. Damn, container’s empty. Didn’t boil water.

Scene 2
In the midst of washing my Milo-stained cup, something caught my eye. Thousands of icky black thingy-ma-jig celebrating, drinking, eating in the dustbin. An ant alone will seem harmless, but when the whole communities of clans come out to play, Myrmecophobia can happen. Damn, didn’t throw rubbish.

You see the similarities above? All of us are guilty of taking our parents for granted. Seriously. Mom is the one who boils water, Dad throws the rubbish.
Just to clear things up, I’m not a pampered, spoilt, doesn’t lift-a-finger child. I do housework. It’s just at times, I tend to overlooked things; there will always be water, rubbish will be cleared.

People always tell you this, but you inadvertently ignore it, till it hits you wham! I’ve been a good child so far - satisfactory grades, no involvement in drugs or pirated DVDs, be their kuli when out marketing, be their chauffeur, the little luxuries I give, obedient… But good aint enough. I want to be super-duper good. Notice 1 thing I left out from the list of ‘goodness’? Communication. I seldom talk to them. Can’t find anything relevant. 16years ago, I would even tell them that, Rajes’s mom’s cousin’s daughter has a black, spotty white kitten. Rule #5 Who Moved My Cheese: Change. Move with the cheese.

Mom & Dad is coming home tomorrow. And you know what? From now on, I’ll boil water. I’ll throw the rubbish. And I'm gonna tell them about that idiotic moron, black Wira who blatantly cut into my lane today.

Like a bullet through your brain

Acrimonious.

I'm feeling acrimonious. After 3 weeks, my state has come to a level of intense feeling of resentment. And all of a sudden, I have these wild thoughts playing in my mind.

• Caffeine overdose (is it actually possible? how many cups?)
• How long can someone practise the mambo before her/his legs gets into a nice shade of blue+black?
• How many trays of carrot muffins can I bake continously before I start looking like a carrot?
• How many back-to-back episodes of Grey's Anatomy can I watch before my eyes pop out ala Exorcist girl?
• How did they build Genting's cable car track? Didn't you notice there're nothing but trees all around?

Insanity is slowly creeping in.

The Ouch Factor

There was once a girl who loved a boy. Loved him with all her heart.
Then, she made a mistake. A mistake, no matter how much pleading or remorse could bring the boy back. She was repayed 10-fold by the ultimate revenge plan.
Wretched, battered, torn, betrayed.

There was once a girl who loved a boy.

The New Me

May 22, 2006 -> March 14, 2007

Err...a lot of months in between. My Maths is bad.

I think I've changed.
Waist grew wider, for the obvious. Mind grew a little mature, for the discreet.
I'm a full-fledge working, ahem... woman.
Driving to Damansara myself, buying shoes on my own(no need approval from Mom anymore! ha!), visit the hair saloon alone, pumping petrol on my own..on my own, on my own, on my own.

Environment's changing too.
Audrey left me, thats drastic. Earth's getting hotter. My neighbour's daughter can now count till 10.

Oh, I need money to get another tattoo.
I plan to win FlyFM's end-bit. The cash now stands at $9700.
I can have a dragon-tiger-phoenix tattoo with hebrew inscription all around, that can make Angelina cry.