patience is a virtue.
yes, we have often been reminded that, even from young. good things come to those who wait….….blah, blah, blah. as you can see, i don’t even have the patience to finish that sentence.
strange. i’ve never thought of myself as impatient. short-tempered maybe, but even that has mellowed as i age. lately, however, i notice that i have a tendency to rush through everything. if my computer can speak, it will tell of the cussing and ‘accidental’dents that it has received for its’ sometimes temperamental and slow performance.
the first that went, i think, was probably my handwriting. i have forgotten exactly when my beautiful penmanship has degenerated into a time-rushed physician-like scribble. heck, even my 5-year-old’s handwriting looks better than mine. maybe i have the makings of a doctor! anyway, hence i no longer send letters via snail mail, or even pen memos for that matter. the keyboard has saved me a lot of harassment and hassle from weak-eyed pathetic individuals.
everything else came in a rush. my speech rushing to catch up with the speed of the train. even during my secondary and university years, the teachers had to constantly remind me to read at a more leisurely pace. hell, i can’t be held responsible for those slow-brained people listening. they have got to learn to buck up and catch up with the flow! professors are not excluded as well. *ahem!* it would have been nice if i had the courage to tell them so in their face then, and not just nod meekly.
cleaning and beauty rituals are not excluded. i believe spending five minutes making the same circles around my face in the exact same spot will not make it any cleaner than a 30-seconds super-turbo enhanced wash. standing under the shower for 45 minutes will not make me smell any nicer either, so why bother? if you've already washed all the nooks and crooks, you've already washed it! get out of the shower already!! forget about the massaging part, creams are literally just slathered on and left there to dry whilst i go about my other stuffs.
i used to enjoy reading novels, all curled up on the couch with a drink and a good book. now i speed read and skip all the 'non-essentials'. flip, flip, flip.......forget about all that description of the scenery, let's get on with it. not kissing her yet? flip, flip, flip some more. just like when i watch korean series on dvds. you know how slow those romantic lovey-dovey scenes can be, right? i can keep my finger on that darn fast-forward button for 15 minutes straight and the handsome actor hasn't even muster the courage to tell the girl he loves her. sheesh! i don't know why i still watch them.
eating is the other thing. i really don’t see why i have to chew one mouthful a hundred times if my stomach is suppose to be doing the digesting into molecules anyway. should i be spoiling that lazy insolent thing? most days, i finish my meals way before others and i sit idly by, twiddling my thumbs as they are still patiently munching on their food. the hot steaming soups are the worst but still, in it goes in a gulp.the roof of my mouth is so used to scalding by now. recently i've realised that my shoulder muscles are most tensed when i'm shoving spoonfuls into my mouth. stressed even whilst eating? help! i really need therapy!!
where am i rushing to? i don't really know. i will like to slow down. i really would.....but i can't. maybe there are just too many things i will like to do and they just can't wait. too many things to try. too many places to see. to many food to eat.
sorry, i have to rush off now for the next thing on my agenda..
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
stories from beyond
i confess.
i was abducted by aliens over the last couple of days and hence the disappearing act. i did my very best to escape from their grasp, in a bid to return to my faithful readers as soon as possible. breaking free from my bondage, i jumped into the first hatch that i saw and ......found myself floating in outer space, where i drifted aimlessly for a few days. *sob* you just can't imagine the terror i went through. bit by bit, inch by inch, i swam my way back to earth. the experience was just too traumatic to recount.......... not convinced?
ok, let's try again. as a result of over-exposure to the intense haze over the last week, some of the smoke and harzardous content has crept into my cranium, causing an immense build-up of pressure in the cavity, a condition the doctors have termed as 'brainofoggy'. i was unable to focus and the sensation was likened to having my head in the clouds all the time. i spent the last couple of days drifting in and out of sensibility and normality. in the end, an ingenious doctor placed a low-voltage vacuum cleaner near my ear, which managed to suck the haze out of my brain and sent me on the slow but sure path of recovery. better this time?
actually, blogging is a very intense feeling. you breathe, eat and think blog. whatever you are doing, you will be thinking whether it is good blogging material and are constantly visualising how you should put it all down in black and white. you abandon all your other favourite pastimes. heck, you even forsake your job and responsibilities. so, once in a while, you just feel like the need to get away from it all....to have a piece of your life back. perhaps it was just blogger's block. anyway, i'm recharged and ready to go again.
sunday was my usual day for the 'b' game. i won't say the name of the game here because i don't want to attract the attention of people who are surfing the net for serious information about the sport. hey, here's another site about badmi........what the heck! it's just gibberish!. get the idea? anyway, i was talking to HD about the finer points of the game......ahem! actually i was just wondering why i am not getting a good grip of the racket when an eavesdropping man decided to poke his head in and answer my questions himself. who says i am not a cutey pie?! so far, my irresistible power of attraction has pulled in two hot-blooded, albeit a little too old for me, men from the vicinity of my magnetic charisma! perhaps they just cannot stand watching my flailing antics around the court and how i run around like a tired puppy. gosh! the lengths that these men will go to in order to find an excuse to talk to me! *grins*
i am pretty convinced that malaysia will soon evict me from the country and reclaim my citizenship for i am the last and only adult here that cannot play a decent game, no matter how much pointers or advise. however, i will stick to it.........until i find something else that i can do with more grace and dignity, and win HD by a far cry.
hmmmm....where is that box of pictionary again?
i was abducted by aliens over the last couple of days and hence the disappearing act. i did my very best to escape from their grasp, in a bid to return to my faithful readers as soon as possible. breaking free from my bondage, i jumped into the first hatch that i saw and ......found myself floating in outer space, where i drifted aimlessly for a few days. *sob* you just can't imagine the terror i went through. bit by bit, inch by inch, i swam my way back to earth. the experience was just too traumatic to recount.......... not convinced?
ok, let's try again. as a result of over-exposure to the intense haze over the last week, some of the smoke and harzardous content has crept into my cranium, causing an immense build-up of pressure in the cavity, a condition the doctors have termed as 'brainofoggy'. i was unable to focus and the sensation was likened to having my head in the clouds all the time. i spent the last couple of days drifting in and out of sensibility and normality. in the end, an ingenious doctor placed a low-voltage vacuum cleaner near my ear, which managed to suck the haze out of my brain and sent me on the slow but sure path of recovery. better this time?
actually, blogging is a very intense feeling. you breathe, eat and think blog. whatever you are doing, you will be thinking whether it is good blogging material and are constantly visualising how you should put it all down in black and white. you abandon all your other favourite pastimes. heck, you even forsake your job and responsibilities. so, once in a while, you just feel like the need to get away from it all....to have a piece of your life back. perhaps it was just blogger's block. anyway, i'm recharged and ready to go again.
sunday was my usual day for the 'b' game. i won't say the name of the game here because i don't want to attract the attention of people who are surfing the net for serious information about the sport. hey, here's another site about badmi........what the heck! it's just gibberish!. get the idea? anyway, i was talking to HD about the finer points of the game......ahem! actually i was just wondering why i am not getting a good grip of the racket when an eavesdropping man decided to poke his head in and answer my questions himself. who says i am not a cutey pie?! so far, my irresistible power of attraction has pulled in two hot-blooded, albeit a little too old for me, men from the vicinity of my magnetic charisma! perhaps they just cannot stand watching my flailing antics around the court and how i run around like a tired puppy. gosh! the lengths that these men will go to in order to find an excuse to talk to me! *grins*
i am pretty convinced that malaysia will soon evict me from the country and reclaim my citizenship for i am the last and only adult here that cannot play a decent game, no matter how much pointers or advise. however, i will stick to it.........until i find something else that i can do with more grace and dignity, and win HD by a far cry.
hmmmm....where is that box of pictionary again?
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
i am addicted
it all started with the problem of waiting.
i was surfing through my routine reads this afternoon on an snail-paced connection line. being the typical multi-tasking woman that i am, i was not contented to sit idly by whilst the computer loads the pages bit by bit, or is it byte by byte?
anyway, i opened up a game that i have long abandoned - minesweeper, to help me pass the time as line by line of information is being transferred. beats nodding off, i figured. by the third blog though, i was hooked. damn! i have forgotten how addictive this game can be. all those office hours idled away behind the monitor, as i clicked on the small squares and tried to look busy at the same time. hours spent trying to figure out where those mines were until i dreamt of them at night.
i'm sorry, i have no time for an update today. i have to get back to my computer. errrr....urgent matters are awaiting me.
hasta la vista!
i was surfing through my routine reads this afternoon on an snail-paced connection line. being the typical multi-tasking woman that i am, i was not contented to sit idly by whilst the computer loads the pages bit by bit, or is it byte by byte?
anyway, i opened up a game that i have long abandoned - minesweeper, to help me pass the time as line by line of information is being transferred. beats nodding off, i figured. by the third blog though, i was hooked. damn! i have forgotten how addictive this game can be. all those office hours idled away behind the monitor, as i clicked on the small squares and tried to look busy at the same time. hours spent trying to figure out where those mines were until i dreamt of them at night.
i'm sorry, i have no time for an update today. i have to get back to my computer. errrr....urgent matters are awaiting me.
hasta la vista!
Monday, October 09, 2006
a moment
were you there?
i was part of the 15,000 crowd, bopping and jiving the night away, dancing to the songs that the 'forever-25' man was belting out.
to be frank, i'm not a dedicated fan of his. heck, i don't even know how to sing any of his songs. however, like many other 30+-year-olds, i grew up on a healthy dose of his melodies, playing in the background whilst we go about with our studies.
i went for lacking of something better to fill the nights. the enthusiasm didn't hit me like it did for michael jackson and andy lau's concert. i wasn't exactly climbing over chairs to get a better look at his 50+ wrinkled face. however, i must say, this is the best concert i have been to so far.
when you think of him, perhaps most people will think of his ever-expanding waistline, droopy-with-age face and descriptions such as over-the-hill and ex-superstar. when he starts singing though, all you can think about is how perfect his tunes are and how strong his voice comes across, a far cry from the recent up and coming singers. his music carries you away with him, leaving behind time and age. in a little while, you forget that he is 54 as he brings you into his world.
the real concert began when he was called back by thunderous shouts of 'encore' from spectators that persistently refuse to leave, even after the stage light was shut down. he re-appeared to share with us his love for music. everybody was invited to the front of the stage, people from all grades of tickets, where they began dancing and rocking to his songs. we could feel his passion for the music and he could feel our energy. the moment that the concert was officially over was the moment that the fun started. he could be there to give us a few more songs or he could leave. so could we. we knew that and he knew that. however, all of us wanted to catch hold of the magic for a moment longer. a moment where we forgot everything else in the world, except the fun, the energy...and the music.
even the elusive moon sneaked a peek from his heavenly perch.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
where did the moon go?
was it me?
or did the moon disappeared last night?
i had the feast of a dinner for moon-lantern festival last night. the whole table was laden with scrumptious mouth-watering food. it was a matter of which food takes priority over others before my appetite was satiated.
sad to say, it was a lantern festival like all other years. we didn't cause havoc or burn down the house, for fear that the insurance premium will be raised. we didn't roam the streets with our lantern because we didn't fancy being knocked over by cars blinded by the haze. we didn't get drunk and sing chinese melodies at the top of our lungs.
however, we did have a mini-concert by the children, coerced and forced into performance by their wicked mother/aunty. that's me, by the way. we did pig out on the array of food. we did light up some lanterns and nearly ended up burning one of them. we did yak, yak, yak the night away.
it was very nice.....but where did the moon go? we hunted for it the whole night and even sent out a couple of detectives to track it down. it was no where in sight, that beautiful larger-than-normal and very round luminous moon. hidden behind the thick cloud of haze.
sigh!
or did the moon disappeared last night?
i had the feast of a dinner for moon-lantern festival last night. the whole table was laden with scrumptious mouth-watering food. it was a matter of which food takes priority over others before my appetite was satiated.
sad to say, it was a lantern festival like all other years. we didn't cause havoc or burn down the house, for fear that the insurance premium will be raised. we didn't roam the streets with our lantern because we didn't fancy being knocked over by cars blinded by the haze. we didn't get drunk and sing chinese melodies at the top of our lungs.
however, we did have a mini-concert by the children, coerced and forced into performance by their wicked mother/aunty. that's me, by the way. we did pig out on the array of food. we did light up some lanterns and nearly ended up burning one of them. we did yak, yak, yak the night away.
it was very nice.....but where did the moon go? we hunted for it the whole night and even sent out a couple of detectives to track it down. it was no where in sight, that beautiful larger-than-normal and very round luminous moon. hidden behind the thick cloud of haze.
sigh!
Friday, October 06, 2006
watch out!
snarl!
for those on the move today, watch out for a rabies pig. grrrrrrr! today, i bite! *chomp*
i'm in a snarling mood, not exactly a nasty angry disposition but i just feel like snapping. so, don't pat me on my back if you'll like to keep your fingers.
maybe it's this diet that i have been for the whole week which is causing me to loose my grip on sanity.
or maybe it's the fact that the weighing scale went the wrong way this morning after i pigged out on what i thought would be a protein diet last night.
perhaps i have been doing too long without a cup of coffee....
maybe a break from the routine is what i need.
whatever.
grrrrrrrr!
happy moon-lantern festival to all. *snap*
for those on the move today, watch out for a rabies pig. grrrrrrr! today, i bite! *chomp*
i'm in a snarling mood, not exactly a nasty angry disposition but i just feel like snapping. so, don't pat me on my back if you'll like to keep your fingers.
maybe it's this diet that i have been for the whole week which is causing me to loose my grip on sanity.
or maybe it's the fact that the weighing scale went the wrong way this morning after i pigged out on what i thought would be a protein diet last night.
perhaps i have been doing too long without a cup of coffee....
maybe a break from the routine is what i need.
whatever.
grrrrrrrr!
happy moon-lantern festival to all. *snap*
Thursday, October 05, 2006
aliens with noses on their head
gasp!
two posts in a day?! even before some regular readers have a chance to comment on my first post for the day, out pops the second one. hey guys, you are slacking, man! pick up the pace! :-) i have no choice, you see. extensive surveys have showed that my readers prefer short and sweet posts from me, so what is a girl to do? break it into a few posts! haha! ingenuity to twart the system. then again, most of you will choose to read the latter post and just ignore the earlier. don't you dare! now, scoot, go back and read the first one.
have you ever read las montanas' post on something that he has forgotten to bring along which has actually became a part of him? eeeek! today, i suffered the same fate. i felt so vulnerable and naked without it. so lost. no, las montanas sir, i cannot live without it. especially today. without my belt, my pants keep slipping down. i was in such a rush to go out today that i have forgotten to put on my belt. i am left hanging on to my pants, literally! so, if you read in tomorrow's newspaper of a girl who was shot in a bank robbery, simply because she refused to raise both of her hands up when the robber demanded so, you'll know it's me. hey, i've got my dignity to protect!
actually, today i had the misfortune to step into a damn snooty and snobbish place. you know, the ones where they have their noses on the top of their head? i don't know why they were created in such a strange physical shape, but i guess it's useful for them when holding their noses in the air. it didn't help that i was dressed in tees and jeans. hey, that was an improvement from what i was wearing this morning; i don't think they appreciate people walking into their building wearing negligees.
anyway, dressed in slipping pants and a simple tee, i entered into the financial institution. for goodness sake, it was just a bank, not gucci or emporio armani. an officer of the bank, in an earlier phone coversation, had directed me to the first floor for the relevant services i required. i walked straight in, and upon seeing an escalator heading upstairs, i made my way there. i was promptly stopped by one of those strange creatures with his smelling organ on the top of his head. apparently, the escalator that leads to the first floor doesn't take one to the first floor. go figure that out! looking around and spotting the sign 'premier banking', i understood the reason why. from my dressing, apparently he could guess that i was not a 'premier-banking' customer. nevermind that it was a gucci t-shirt, you idiot! ......erm, actually it wasn't.
anyway, i took the lift to the first floor. aha! so, take note please, everybody. an escalator doesn't take you to the first floor, only a lift does. *scratching head at the strange reasoning*. apparently, people in this bank has some beef about the way i am dressing today. the relevant department i was sourcing out was also not convinced i had matters pertaining to their department.
me: hi, i've come to ask about this* service (*this denotes the relevant service)
man: *looks me up and down* (i seem to be getting that a lot!) *man stammers to get the correct reply out*...........
me: whatttt?! the sign on the door says this is the correct place! you don't know about the service you provide ah?! (speaking in my mind only, mind you. but if he had stammered and stared at me a second longer, i would have rammed those words down his throat!)
anyway, all's well ends well. a lady who was not so biased against appropriate attire served me to my satisfaction. this serves as a reminder to people out there: when you next visit a financial institution, please put on your slickest armani suit or your sexiest dior evening gown. failing that, please stick all your platinum credit cards and $100 bills to the surface of your body. don't forget to cover your face with that title deed or motor vehicle registration now. all to show that you have a little money to your name.
sheesh!
two posts in a day?! even before some regular readers have a chance to comment on my first post for the day, out pops the second one. hey guys, you are slacking, man! pick up the pace! :-) i have no choice, you see. extensive surveys have showed that my readers prefer short and sweet posts from me, so what is a girl to do? break it into a few posts! haha! ingenuity to twart the system. then again, most of you will choose to read the latter post and just ignore the earlier. don't you dare! now, scoot, go back and read the first one.
have you ever read las montanas' post on something that he has forgotten to bring along which has actually became a part of him? eeeek! today, i suffered the same fate. i felt so vulnerable and naked without it. so lost. no, las montanas sir, i cannot live without it. especially today. without my belt, my pants keep slipping down. i was in such a rush to go out today that i have forgotten to put on my belt. i am left hanging on to my pants, literally! so, if you read in tomorrow's newspaper of a girl who was shot in a bank robbery, simply because she refused to raise both of her hands up when the robber demanded so, you'll know it's me. hey, i've got my dignity to protect!
actually, today i had the misfortune to step into a damn snooty and snobbish place. you know, the ones where they have their noses on the top of their head? i don't know why they were created in such a strange physical shape, but i guess it's useful for them when holding their noses in the air. it didn't help that i was dressed in tees and jeans. hey, that was an improvement from what i was wearing this morning; i don't think they appreciate people walking into their building wearing negligees.
anyway, dressed in slipping pants and a simple tee, i entered into the financial institution. for goodness sake, it was just a bank, not gucci or emporio armani. an officer of the bank, in an earlier phone coversation, had directed me to the first floor for the relevant services i required. i walked straight in, and upon seeing an escalator heading upstairs, i made my way there. i was promptly stopped by one of those strange creatures with his smelling organ on the top of his head. apparently, the escalator that leads to the first floor doesn't take one to the first floor. go figure that out! looking around and spotting the sign 'premier banking', i understood the reason why. from my dressing, apparently he could guess that i was not a 'premier-banking' customer. nevermind that it was a gucci t-shirt, you idiot! ......erm, actually it wasn't.
anyway, i took the lift to the first floor. aha! so, take note please, everybody. an escalator doesn't take you to the first floor, only a lift does. *scratching head at the strange reasoning*. apparently, people in this bank has some beef about the way i am dressing today. the relevant department i was sourcing out was also not convinced i had matters pertaining to their department.
me: hi, i've come to ask about this* service (*this denotes the relevant service)
man: *looks me up and down* (i seem to be getting that a lot!) *man stammers to get the correct reply out*...........
me: whatttt?! the sign on the door says this is the correct place! you don't know about the service you provide ah?! (speaking in my mind only, mind you. but if he had stammered and stared at me a second longer, i would have rammed those words down his throat!)
anyway, all's well ends well. a lady who was not so biased against appropriate attire served me to my satisfaction. this serves as a reminder to people out there: when you next visit a financial institution, please put on your slickest armani suit or your sexiest dior evening gown. failing that, please stick all your platinum credit cards and $100 bills to the surface of your body. don't forget to cover your face with that title deed or motor vehicle registration now. all to show that you have a little money to your name.
sheesh!
speed
imagine this......
your car is travelling at 140kph, the window is down and the wind is blowing in your hair. the music is rocking away at full blast and you are jiving as you drive. ahhhhhhh! sounds heavenly?
not for me.
my top speed is at 100kph. for some strange reason, i have been born with an in-built speedometer. scientists are waiting in line to turn me into a biological sample to examine in depth this potentially cost-saving trait. i don't even have to look at the dial to know i have reached that speed. my heart will instinctly start pumping to the speed limit - 100 beats per second. my palms will start to sweat and my guts turn into chicken shit. i meekly signal to merge into the traffic on my left. coward!
i can't help it! flashes of those flying watermelon safety campaign commercials automatically replay in my brain when i hit that speed limit. my fingers start to twitch and my brain tries to override my hands, asking them to jerk the steering wheel. what is my brain trying to do? get me killed?! with manic suicidal hands like these and a crazy cranial accomplice, it's better if i just stay in the middle lane. yes sir, you can take over. it's ok.
you know how all the cars slow down to a crawl when they reach the toll-house, even when they have the auto-detect smart tag? then, after they have been beeped, everybody just floors the accelerator and rushes like lunatics to be the first. you know what that reminds me of? little sperms rushing out to be the first one to reach the egg.
now, you'll never ever look at the toll-house in the same way again *grins*
your car is travelling at 140kph, the window is down and the wind is blowing in your hair. the music is rocking away at full blast and you are jiving as you drive. ahhhhhhh! sounds heavenly?
not for me.
my top speed is at 100kph. for some strange reason, i have been born with an in-built speedometer. scientists are waiting in line to turn me into a biological sample to examine in depth this potentially cost-saving trait. i don't even have to look at the dial to know i have reached that speed. my heart will instinctly start pumping to the speed limit - 100 beats per second. my palms will start to sweat and my guts turn into chicken shit. i meekly signal to merge into the traffic on my left. coward!
i can't help it! flashes of those flying watermelon safety campaign commercials automatically replay in my brain when i hit that speed limit. my fingers start to twitch and my brain tries to override my hands, asking them to jerk the steering wheel. what is my brain trying to do? get me killed?! with manic suicidal hands like these and a crazy cranial accomplice, it's better if i just stay in the middle lane. yes sir, you can take over. it's ok.
you know how all the cars slow down to a crawl when they reach the toll-house, even when they have the auto-detect smart tag? then, after they have been beeped, everybody just floors the accelerator and rushes like lunatics to be the first. you know what that reminds me of? little sperms rushing out to be the first one to reach the egg.
now, you'll never ever look at the toll-house in the same way again *grins*
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
it's back!
from a distance, i could see a friend walking towards me.
as he walked nearer......
me: hey there! i haven't seen you for quite some time. how are the kids? and your missy? we really should get together soon. catch something to drink, talk about old times. what do you think? i really miss the group.
him: who the hell are you??!!!
me: *pushing aside the thick haze infront of me* ......wha??!!! sorry!
for those who are not presently in the heart of the malaysian city center, amen!, we are under seiged by a blanket of thick white and smelly smoke. gone is the malaysian skyline, gone are the famous twin towers. infact, my hand right infront of my face has also done a disappearing act.
once, it used to be headline news when we were attacked by this invisible monster, describing in great details the source of the smoke and the risk rating we were in. now, it's old news that just barely makes a small section tucked away somewhere in the corner of the dailies. we don't know why, we don't know how. here today, hopefully gone tommorow (cross our fingers). meanwhile, can i hold my breath?
some of you were enchanted with my photo-taking skills recently. ahem! as today's entertainment, i bring you a picture of the malaysian skyline, complete with the towering skyscrapers and the majestic kl tower.
i swear it's all there. you just have to strain your eyes a little bit more to see them. all part of malaysia's reality.
cough! cough! cough! choke....... *fainted*
as he walked nearer......
me: hey there! i haven't seen you for quite some time. how are the kids? and your missy? we really should get together soon. catch something to drink, talk about old times. what do you think? i really miss the group.
him: who the hell are you??!!!
me: *pushing aside the thick haze infront of me* ......wha??!!! sorry!
for those who are not presently in the heart of the malaysian city center, amen!, we are under seiged by a blanket of thick white and smelly smoke. gone is the malaysian skyline, gone are the famous twin towers. infact, my hand right infront of my face has also done a disappearing act.
once, it used to be headline news when we were attacked by this invisible monster, describing in great details the source of the smoke and the risk rating we were in. now, it's old news that just barely makes a small section tucked away somewhere in the corner of the dailies. we don't know why, we don't know how. here today, hopefully gone tommorow (cross our fingers). meanwhile, can i hold my breath?
some of you were enchanted with my photo-taking skills recently. ahem! as today's entertainment, i bring you a picture of the malaysian skyline, complete with the towering skyscrapers and the majestic kl tower.
i swear it's all there. you just have to strain your eyes a little bit more to see them. all part of malaysia's reality.
cough! cough! cough! choke....... *fainted*
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
nearly
i nearly had the time to post an entry.
but now i have to run. i have to go play with the little master, who is sitting on the floor, whining and crying.
but now i have to run. i have to go play with the little master, who is sitting on the floor, whining and crying.
Monday, October 02, 2006
a few pointers
my bum hurts.
from another round of over-exertive badminton which saw me running around like a dog. in the midst of the game, an old coach walked up to me and started giving me some pointers. apparently, he couldn't tolerate the abuse i was getting from HD :-) or perhaps, he just couldn't take the way i was insulting the game with my hopeless excuse for techniques of the game.
in all my 35 years of playing, (ok, take away a few years since i didn't start holding the racket from the crib) nobody ever taught me the proper techniques. so, all these years, i have beeen running around that rectangular box like a mad-woman, doing all the wrong moves. i know there are those smart-alex out there who will pipe up and say that they have learnt their techniques merely from observation of professional matches. i confess, i belong to those dim-witted blur category, ok? so, sue me!
anyway, this kind, and ahem.... busybody, man taught me the correct way to hold the racket, stand and move. theoretically, i could see an instant improvement in my game. in practice however, my brain needs more time to communicate with my body. it's inspiring, i feel, to have a mere stranger take the effort to walk up, interrupt my game and point me in the correct direction. it's strange; the little ways that we can touch the lives of others.
the neighbourhood community organised a 'pre' moon lantern festival celebration last saturday.
i miss those days when we got together with all the cousins and walked around like idiots without a purpose, holding to our paper lanterns. when that got boring, we just burnt all the candles and melted them to a huge ball of wax. :-) hmmm....i think i may just conspire with the kids to do that this year.
did any of you look up on sunday to see this? have you forgotten how beautiful a rainbow is?
from another round of over-exertive badminton which saw me running around like a dog. in the midst of the game, an old coach walked up to me and started giving me some pointers. apparently, he couldn't tolerate the abuse i was getting from HD :-) or perhaps, he just couldn't take the way i was insulting the game with my hopeless excuse for techniques of the game.
in all my 35 years of playing, (ok, take away a few years since i didn't start holding the racket from the crib) nobody ever taught me the proper techniques. so, all these years, i have beeen running around that rectangular box like a mad-woman, doing all the wrong moves. i know there are those smart-alex out there who will pipe up and say that they have learnt their techniques merely from observation of professional matches. i confess, i belong to those dim-witted blur category, ok? so, sue me!
anyway, this kind, and ahem.... busybody, man taught me the correct way to hold the racket, stand and move. theoretically, i could see an instant improvement in my game. in practice however, my brain needs more time to communicate with my body. it's inspiring, i feel, to have a mere stranger take the effort to walk up, interrupt my game and point me in the correct direction. it's strange; the little ways that we can touch the lives of others.
the neighbourhood community organised a 'pre' moon lantern festival celebration last saturday.
i miss those days when we got together with all the cousins and walked around like idiots without a purpose, holding to our paper lanterns. when that got boring, we just burnt all the candles and melted them to a huge ball of wax. :-) hmmm....i think i may just conspire with the kids to do that this year.
did any of you look up on sunday to see this? have you forgotten how beautiful a rainbow is?
Friday, September 29, 2006
she
she hides in the room to smoke and gamble.
she drinks wine, not cheap liquor mind you, until she is slightly tipsy in the night.
she gives out free loves and enjoys frolicking with the male sex.
she embraces and sleeps with her own sex when she is missing some tender loving care.
she talks to strangers and is friendly to any people from her own country, male or female.
she receives calls from people she doesn’t know, asking to be friends.
she resorts to drastic and silly actions when she realizes that she is unduly pregnant.
she has an alternative source of income, other than that dictated by her visa and not necessary legal.
she employs politics on her colleagues in order to achieve the position of seniority.
she tells lies as if it is part of her everyday entertainment.
she feigns ailments in order to escape her duties.
she has no qualms about stealing from her employers.
she plays the part of a meek lamb in front of her employer but is the total opposite when the head is turned.
she is a domestic maid.
she drinks wine, not cheap liquor mind you, until she is slightly tipsy in the night.
she gives out free loves and enjoys frolicking with the male sex.
she embraces and sleeps with her own sex when she is missing some tender loving care.
she talks to strangers and is friendly to any people from her own country, male or female.
she receives calls from people she doesn’t know, asking to be friends.
she resorts to drastic and silly actions when she realizes that she is unduly pregnant.
she has an alternative source of income, other than that dictated by her visa and not necessary legal.
she employs politics on her colleagues in order to achieve the position of seniority.
she tells lies as if it is part of her everyday entertainment.
she feigns ailments in order to escape her duties.
she has no qualms about stealing from her employers.
she plays the part of a meek lamb in front of her employer but is the total opposite when the head is turned.
she is a domestic maid.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
escort service
i don’t know when.
i don’t know how.
i seem to have picked up a part-time job recently. a niche post actually. something that you will never see in the classifieds, yet there appears to be a genuine demand for the service.
actually, my official title is ‘hospital escort’. yes, that’s what I do. i accompany people to the hospital for their visits to the doctors. old or young, men or women. open heart surgery or a simply haermorrhoid consultation. no job is too small for me.
my job scope?
i put on pretty clothes, hoping that the doctor will notice and let us jump queue in an effort to save my client some time.
i ask questions that appear intelligent and medically-based to make us all look good. perhaps some of these questions may have no relevance to the medical condition of my client, but someone has to make the small talk, right?
i do all the hard work and running around; collecting medicine, taking note of the dosage instructions, paying bills (of course i will have to be reimbursed for this, otherwise why else will i be performing the service?) and the flirting with handsome doctors.
i simplify the instructions on the rather complicated medicine sticker and re-write them in simple monosyllable for you; in whichever language you are proficient.
i provide amusing conversations to pass the time whilst waiting for the doctor, just incase i have failed to attract the attention of the gay doctor.
i provide personal reminders for the next appointment, which also translates into my next service charge.
sounds like a very simple job? there is more than meets the eye, mind you. i was pricked by the *&%$ing needle once, attempting to be doctor’s assistant after which i have made a mental note not to dress too sexily infront of the doctor again, lest he is unable to perform his function satisfactorily.
then there is the endless 'thumb-twiddling' wait and the endurance of stomach-growling hunger pangs through lunch hour.
most important, there is also the client factor. presently i have a hypochondriac patient as part of my clientele. someone who imagines that she is inflicted with all kinds of discomfort and will not rest until she visits the doctor and is given medication of one kind or another. a typical visit will go like this:
she: doctor ah, i feel pain here woh.
doc: here ah? oh, small pain never mind.
she: very painful woh. until cannot eat lah.
*slap* the doctor slaps me with a bill for medication.
she: my legs also feel very weak wor.
*slap* *slap* another bill.
she: and i cannot sleep at night. can give me some sleeping pills ah?
*slap* *slap* *slap*
i don’t quite mind, after all i am reimbursed for whatever bills i am slapped with, remember? however, i can hear the distant cries of someone’s wallet, screaming for help. still, how do you tell your client that it is all in her mind? so, i keep my mouth nicely zipped up and pocket my escort fees.
business seems to be a little quiet these days. anybody needs a hospital escort?
by the way, i charge by the hour. and there is no hanky-panky with the hired help.
i don’t know how.
i seem to have picked up a part-time job recently. a niche post actually. something that you will never see in the classifieds, yet there appears to be a genuine demand for the service.
actually, my official title is ‘hospital escort’. yes, that’s what I do. i accompany people to the hospital for their visits to the doctors. old or young, men or women. open heart surgery or a simply haermorrhoid consultation. no job is too small for me.
my job scope?
i put on pretty clothes, hoping that the doctor will notice and let us jump queue in an effort to save my client some time.
i ask questions that appear intelligent and medically-based to make us all look good. perhaps some of these questions may have no relevance to the medical condition of my client, but someone has to make the small talk, right?
i do all the hard work and running around; collecting medicine, taking note of the dosage instructions, paying bills (of course i will have to be reimbursed for this, otherwise why else will i be performing the service?) and the flirting with handsome doctors.
i simplify the instructions on the rather complicated medicine sticker and re-write them in simple monosyllable for you; in whichever language you are proficient.
i provide amusing conversations to pass the time whilst waiting for the doctor, just incase i have failed to attract the attention of the gay doctor.
i provide personal reminders for the next appointment, which also translates into my next service charge.
sounds like a very simple job? there is more than meets the eye, mind you. i was pricked by the *&%$ing needle once, attempting to be doctor’s assistant after which i have made a mental note not to dress too sexily infront of the doctor again, lest he is unable to perform his function satisfactorily.
then there is the endless 'thumb-twiddling' wait and the endurance of stomach-growling hunger pangs through lunch hour.
most important, there is also the client factor. presently i have a hypochondriac patient as part of my clientele. someone who imagines that she is inflicted with all kinds of discomfort and will not rest until she visits the doctor and is given medication of one kind or another. a typical visit will go like this:
she: doctor ah, i feel pain here woh.
doc: here ah? oh, small pain never mind.
she: very painful woh. until cannot eat lah.
*slap* the doctor slaps me with a bill for medication.
she: my legs also feel very weak wor.
*slap* *slap* another bill.
she: and i cannot sleep at night. can give me some sleeping pills ah?
*slap* *slap* *slap*
i don’t quite mind, after all i am reimbursed for whatever bills i am slapped with, remember? however, i can hear the distant cries of someone’s wallet, screaming for help. still, how do you tell your client that it is all in her mind? so, i keep my mouth nicely zipped up and pocket my escort fees.
business seems to be a little quiet these days. anybody needs a hospital escort?
by the way, i charge by the hour. and there is no hanky-panky with the hired help.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
reincarnation
do you believe in reincarnation?
to be totally frank (i can't really be frank, can i? i am ms. me, and forever will be, not mr frank), i don't really subscribe to that belief. that when you leave this body, your soul survives and returnes in another physical form some time in the distant future. however, as impossible as the whole thing sounds to me, i am beginning to have my doubts.
yesterday, i witnessed with my very eyes, someone who is very eager to be on his way to his reincarnation. which is really strange, if you think about it, because he was not even dead yet. however, i sincerely believe that if he continues to practice his 'drive-like-a-drunken-ass' maneuvers, he is on the correct road to meet his maker, and very soon too.
this guy must have made his escape from las montanas' blog where he made a quick visit on monday. last night he was doing his magical lane-switching, squeezing-into-tight-spots and brake-every-2-seconds tricks again right in front of me. sorry fella, the audience wasn't impressed. infact, we were rather disappointed that the whole performance did not come to a crashing end. i was right behind him all the way home and my driver, aka HD, did not even have to perform any of those stunts. sheesh! makes you wonder why mr stunt driver had to do it in the first place.
today was one of those rare days where i had to attend abored board meeting. having hung up my corporate suits and stiletto heels a long time ago, in exchange for disposable diapers and crayons, making the ocassional visit back is ....interesting. i have finally found the correct place and time to employ my dreaming-but-look-like-in-deep-thought looks.
over the years, many have asked me if i missed the corporate scene. but of course. you get to dress up everyday and look glamorous and important. nowadays, the only function that i get invited to and have the excuse to be all dolled-up will be for barbie's tea parties. i won't be a hypocritical asshole and say that i will give it all up again in the blink of an eye for the love and pleasure of being with my kids. you know kids. they can drive you insane sometimes. but a choice had to be made and i don't think i am the type who can look myself in the eyes if i have not done my best for them.
still, i think i made a pretty good trade. sometimes, like today, i get to put on my mascara, lip gloss, welcome back my stiletto heels and play the part of a corporate professional.
to be totally frank (i can't really be frank, can i? i am ms. me, and forever will be, not mr frank), i don't really subscribe to that belief. that when you leave this body, your soul survives and returnes in another physical form some time in the distant future. however, as impossible as the whole thing sounds to me, i am beginning to have my doubts.
yesterday, i witnessed with my very eyes, someone who is very eager to be on his way to his reincarnation. which is really strange, if you think about it, because he was not even dead yet. however, i sincerely believe that if he continues to practice his 'drive-like-a-drunken-ass' maneuvers, he is on the correct road to meet his maker, and very soon too.
this guy must have made his escape from las montanas' blog where he made a quick visit on monday. last night he was doing his magical lane-switching, squeezing-into-tight-spots and brake-every-2-seconds tricks again right in front of me. sorry fella, the audience wasn't impressed. infact, we were rather disappointed that the whole performance did not come to a crashing end. i was right behind him all the way home and my driver, aka HD, did not even have to perform any of those stunts. sheesh! makes you wonder why mr stunt driver had to do it in the first place.
today was one of those rare days where i had to attend a
over the years, many have asked me if i missed the corporate scene. but of course. you get to dress up everyday and look glamorous and important. nowadays, the only function that i get invited to and have the excuse to be all dolled-up will be for barbie's tea parties. i won't be a hypocritical asshole and say that i will give it all up again in the blink of an eye for the love and pleasure of being with my kids. you know kids. they can drive you insane sometimes. but a choice had to be made and i don't think i am the type who can look myself in the eyes if i have not done my best for them.
still, i think i made a pretty good trade. sometimes, like today, i get to put on my mascara, lip gloss, welcome back my stiletto heels and play the part of a corporate professional.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
child
i was invited to cher-cher’s ballet practice yesterday to review her work for the whole year. as with all young children, she was very excited and has reminded me over and over again that morning to attend and be punctual. it is quite sobering to have your daughter nag you about the importance of being on time.
so, i made an extra effort on monday morning to be there exactly on the dot, if not slightly earlier. it has never crossed my mind that my action may have any bearing on other 7-years-old. however, my presence triggered off something akin to hysteria in the ballet studio. eeeek!
the little kiddies started whining upon seeing that i am the first and only mother to turn up. yikes! five minutes down the line and a whole row of empty chairs, they degenerated to tears and uncooperativeness. looking left and right nervously, i didn’t quite know where to hide my face or my entire body for that matter. my good gesture to my daughter has caused other children to face their insecurities, making me feel like public enemy no. 1. pretty soon, i can imagine some of them giving me dagger-stares and boycotting my daughter. overactive imagination aside, mothers started rolling in 15minutes after the appointed time. phew! if only mothers knew the heartache they are capable of causing their children, i wish they had made more of an effort to be there at the appropriate time. i guess that is the problem with malaysians; bad time management. they will be late even for their own funeral!
having a kid is quite a blessing. all through life, there will always be people who want to change you. from what you are to what they like you to be. starting from homebase with your parents, who are forever nagging you to pick up your things, behave properly, eat the correct food and a whole other mountainload of requests - to be the best that you can be. your friends also wish you were more. more open, more giving, more time to spend with them, more fashionable. employers will like you to be more efficient, to contribute more to the money-making process and to be more punctual. your partner will be the worst. in the initial stage, they will want to erase all your bad habits and change you totally into someone else. everywhere, everyone. they have some requests of their own, trying to influence you to be more like what they want you to be.
only in a child's eye will you be perfect. beautiful despite the many imperfections on your physical attributes. melodious regardless of the fact that you are tone-deaf. wonderful eventhough you have lost your temper with them a few minutes ago.
it is humbling to receive so much love from someone else. love for you exactly as you are.
i read a quote somewhere: when a child realises that his parents are imperfect; he becomes an adolescent. when he forgives them for it, he becomes an adult.
so, i made an extra effort on monday morning to be there exactly on the dot, if not slightly earlier. it has never crossed my mind that my action may have any bearing on other 7-years-old. however, my presence triggered off something akin to hysteria in the ballet studio. eeeek!
the little kiddies started whining upon seeing that i am the first and only mother to turn up. yikes! five minutes down the line and a whole row of empty chairs, they degenerated to tears and uncooperativeness. looking left and right nervously, i didn’t quite know where to hide my face or my entire body for that matter. my good gesture to my daughter has caused other children to face their insecurities, making me feel like public enemy no. 1. pretty soon, i can imagine some of them giving me dagger-stares and boycotting my daughter. overactive imagination aside, mothers started rolling in 15minutes after the appointed time. phew! if only mothers knew the heartache they are capable of causing their children, i wish they had made more of an effort to be there at the appropriate time. i guess that is the problem with malaysians; bad time management. they will be late even for their own funeral!
having a kid is quite a blessing. all through life, there will always be people who want to change you. from what you are to what they like you to be. starting from homebase with your parents, who are forever nagging you to pick up your things, behave properly, eat the correct food and a whole other mountainload of requests - to be the best that you can be. your friends also wish you were more. more open, more giving, more time to spend with them, more fashionable. employers will like you to be more efficient, to contribute more to the money-making process and to be more punctual. your partner will be the worst. in the initial stage, they will want to erase all your bad habits and change you totally into someone else. everywhere, everyone. they have some requests of their own, trying to influence you to be more like what they want you to be.
only in a child's eye will you be perfect. beautiful despite the many imperfections on your physical attributes. melodious regardless of the fact that you are tone-deaf. wonderful eventhough you have lost your temper with them a few minutes ago.
it is humbling to receive so much love from someone else. love for you exactly as you are.
i read a quote somewhere: when a child realises that his parents are imperfect; he becomes an adolescent. when he forgives them for it, he becomes an adult.
Monday, September 25, 2006
of pain and playing
the end of last week saw me being tormented by a very painful mouth ulcer. i never knew pain until that incident, and that coming from someone who has gone through child-birth twice, you can believe that it was severe. it wasn't so much that the pain was graded a 10 on the scale but more because it dragged on for the longest time. can you imagine a pain that lasts 24 hours round the clock for 4 long and endless days? not just one of those dull aches but a searing, head pounding, crippling kind of pain. pain when you try to open your mouth to talk, pain when you don't, pain when you put anything in your mouth, liquid or solid and pain even when you sleep. believe me, i have tried all types of remedy to cure the damn ulcer, short of gargling with acid and rubbing salt onto the wound. external, internal, watermelon, spray, gargling, whatever you may have...it's just a persistent freak. as it was, i spent the earlier part of the weekend mumbling and talking incoherently. the kids, however, sportingly took it as part of a charade game.
on sunday, i attempted something that i have laid aside for a number of years now, eversince the young one was born. playing badminton. notice that i chose the word 'attempted'? that was because the sport pretty much saw me picking up the shuttlecock more than attempting to hit it. perhaps i should rename it to 'pickaton'?
nevertheless, sunday's sport brought a moment of clarity into my life. now i know the reasons i will never be the next legendary rashid sidek. yes, at a fleeting moment in my life, i once dreamt of being a famous sports artiste, revered by many and adored by all. of course, that dream was quick to burst, especially after i failed the physical education test in school. how many people do you know scored a '0' for pull-ups? well, you are indeed honoured to be able to say that now you know at least one.
anyway, back to badminton. i realised that there were several contributory reasons for my not being able to achieve that glorified honour of a badminton champion:
1. my dimunitive physique. there is a reason that short people are not seen standing on the winner's podium. forget about killer smashes, i will be glad not to have a cramp in my neck from all the craning for the shuttlecock. there is only one way for the shuttlecock to come and it is usually from above, so when you are...erm...closer to the ground (that is a politically correct way to say 'short'), you are at an ackward and very tiring angle to catch a glimpse of the feathered thing. when you are at that angle, the light is also usually in your eye, causing you temporarily blindless when the shuttlecock is within the reach of your racket.
2. the damn shuttlecock doesn't drop right into my hand. and that happens 90% of the time. as much as HD tries to aim it straight for my racket, given that he is not a professional player, it has a tendency to fall out of my reach. which is pretty self-explanatory, i think. since it doesn't fall within my reach, there is a very high likelihood that i will miss it, right?
3. heavy leaded legs are not meant for playing badminton. who has heard of players with tons of weights attached to their legs? as much as my brain tells me to run for the shuttlecock, my legs act otherwise. they are pretty much stuck to the floor and there seems to be a delay mechanism, like those in live radio broadcast, attached to the process of telling it to run and the reaction, by which time it is always too late.
4. i blink. way too much. i think it has become a habit to me. everytime the shuttlecock is about to touch the racket, i blink. infact, i don't think i have ever seen the shuttlecock touch my racket. in that nano-second, a blink can be deadly to your game. it can make the difference between hitting the shuttlecock back to your opponent or it lying mockingly on the floor. someone should invent a device to keep the eyelids open during a game, perhaps a little like the thing dentist use to keep your mouth open for tooth extraction.
so, there you have it. i am not an inept player. there are just some contributory reasons causing me not to play at the very best.
are you convinced? no? well, i didn't think so.
on sunday, i attempted something that i have laid aside for a number of years now, eversince the young one was born. playing badminton. notice that i chose the word 'attempted'? that was because the sport pretty much saw me picking up the shuttlecock more than attempting to hit it. perhaps i should rename it to 'pickaton'?
nevertheless, sunday's sport brought a moment of clarity into my life. now i know the reasons i will never be the next legendary rashid sidek. yes, at a fleeting moment in my life, i once dreamt of being a famous sports artiste, revered by many and adored by all. of course, that dream was quick to burst, especially after i failed the physical education test in school. how many people do you know scored a '0' for pull-ups? well, you are indeed honoured to be able to say that now you know at least one.
anyway, back to badminton. i realised that there were several contributory reasons for my not being able to achieve that glorified honour of a badminton champion:
1. my dimunitive physique. there is a reason that short people are not seen standing on the winner's podium. forget about killer smashes, i will be glad not to have a cramp in my neck from all the craning for the shuttlecock. there is only one way for the shuttlecock to come and it is usually from above, so when you are...erm...closer to the ground (that is a politically correct way to say 'short'), you are at an ackward and very tiring angle to catch a glimpse of the feathered thing. when you are at that angle, the light is also usually in your eye, causing you temporarily blindless when the shuttlecock is within the reach of your racket.
2. the damn shuttlecock doesn't drop right into my hand. and that happens 90% of the time. as much as HD tries to aim it straight for my racket, given that he is not a professional player, it has a tendency to fall out of my reach. which is pretty self-explanatory, i think. since it doesn't fall within my reach, there is a very high likelihood that i will miss it, right?
3. heavy leaded legs are not meant for playing badminton. who has heard of players with tons of weights attached to their legs? as much as my brain tells me to run for the shuttlecock, my legs act otherwise. they are pretty much stuck to the floor and there seems to be a delay mechanism, like those in live radio broadcast, attached to the process of telling it to run and the reaction, by which time it is always too late.
4. i blink. way too much. i think it has become a habit to me. everytime the shuttlecock is about to touch the racket, i blink. infact, i don't think i have ever seen the shuttlecock touch my racket. in that nano-second, a blink can be deadly to your game. it can make the difference between hitting the shuttlecock back to your opponent or it lying mockingly on the floor. someone should invent a device to keep the eyelids open during a game, perhaps a little like the thing dentist use to keep your mouth open for tooth extraction.
so, there you have it. i am not an inept player. there are just some contributory reasons causing me not to play at the very best.
are you convinced? no? well, i didn't think so.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
mails
i received two mails yesterday.
the first from a miss yana. a nice name, don't you think? the name almost rolls of my tongue and sounds melodic. the problem is, i don't know anybody named yana. with a subject header like “hi my dear” , it really grabbed my attention by the balls, that is if i had any. the contents went like this:
'Hallo!
I am a lovely and lonely Lady who is looking for the man who will make me happy and whom I want to feel like in paradise with! If you want to be my beautiful Hero who will save me from this loneliness find me http://www.iamsearching-forlove.com/mydarling/ and wake me up with a warm kiss.
talk to you soon
Yana
dear yana,
thank you for your interesting mail. whilst i appreciate your search for the man that will make you happy, i am sorry to say that i cannot be that person for you. for the very obvious reason that i do not have the necessary physical equipment to satisfy you and make you happy.
however, i do admire your courage and your faith in the belief that distributing such mails to everyone, regardless of race, religion or even sex will bring a gentleman to your attention. then again, perhaps you are not looking for a gentleman.
i wish you the very best in your endeavours and hope that your trawling methods will attract the required attention.
best wishes,
me
there you have it, guys.
those who dream of being somebody’s prince charming, or rescuing some gal from the castle of loneliness, you know where to log into. however, at some point in time, there may be demand for some cold hard cash tucked away in some small-print clause. still, there are some who believe that money can buy them temporary spans of happiness, or should i say orgasm, and i wish you the best of luck.
ok, my next mail.
from a man called timothy otis. my first thought; otis? isn’t that the lift? the lift man wrote to me? i may have pressed a few buttons by mistake, but i don’t think that justifies a letter from the big man himself, does it?
upon reading the contents, i realized that everyone else probably has received the same one at one point or another. i know i have read it several times before, sometimes by the snail mail even.
mr otis offers me a sum of US$4.35million as gratification, simply for partaking in some hare-brain scheme of his. apparently, some bigshot has passed away and none of his descendants know of this sum of money in his account. yah, right! so, if i were to contact him, and possibly give him the details of my bank account (he hasn't mentioned anything along that line at this juncture), i can gain access to that sum of money. hey friends, i am on my way to becoming richhhhhhhhhhh. that's like rm16.5 million. i can cash it all in $1 notes and make a mattress out of it!
dear mr otis,
thank you for your very kind offer.
i do not know how you have been able to obtain my "impressive" information from the "burkina faso chamber of commerce on foreign business relations" since i have absolutely no idea where on earth is burkina faso. however, your source of information is perhaps not of utmost importance in this case.
whilst your generosity has been unsurpassed, i am sad to inform you that i have to decline your offer. blame it on my upbringing but it has been instilled in me since young never to accept gifts from strangers, especially of this magnitude.
i do not doubt your sincerity in the offer and i am genuinely touched by your deep concern over this some of money. many would have turned a blind eye and walked on. the bank of africa is indeed fortunate to have a man of your integrity.
my religion does not permit me to be a silly, stupid and gullible fool and as such, with a heavy heart, i have to reject your offer.
nevertheless, i would like to extend my best wishes for finding an appropriate and gullible, i mean co-operative partner.
best wishes,
me
however, it is not like me to stop my very good friends from finding their pot of gold. for those who finds this offer irrestible and will like to have their shot at being a millionaire, you can contact mr otis at timothy_otis06@yahoo.co.uk.
when you are driving your porshe and smoking cuban cigars, please don't forget me.
the first from a miss yana. a nice name, don't you think? the name almost rolls of my tongue and sounds melodic. the problem is, i don't know anybody named yana. with a subject header like “hi my dear” , it really grabbed my attention by the balls, that is if i had any. the contents went like this:
'Hallo!
I am a lovely and lonely Lady who is looking for the man who will make me happy and whom I want to feel like in paradise with! If you want to be my beautiful Hero who will save me from this loneliness find me http://www.iamsearching-forlove.com/mydarling/ and wake me up with a warm kiss.
talk to you soon
Yana
dear yana,
thank you for your interesting mail. whilst i appreciate your search for the man that will make you happy, i am sorry to say that i cannot be that person for you. for the very obvious reason that i do not have the necessary physical equipment to satisfy you and make you happy.
however, i do admire your courage and your faith in the belief that distributing such mails to everyone, regardless of race, religion or even sex will bring a gentleman to your attention. then again, perhaps you are not looking for a gentleman.
i wish you the very best in your endeavours and hope that your trawling methods will attract the required attention.
best wishes,
me
there you have it, guys.
those who dream of being somebody’s prince charming, or rescuing some gal from the castle of loneliness, you know where to log into. however, at some point in time, there may be demand for some cold hard cash tucked away in some small-print clause. still, there are some who believe that money can buy them temporary spans of happiness, or should i say orgasm, and i wish you the best of luck.
ok, my next mail.
from a man called timothy otis. my first thought; otis? isn’t that the lift? the lift man wrote to me? i may have pressed a few buttons by mistake, but i don’t think that justifies a letter from the big man himself, does it?
upon reading the contents, i realized that everyone else probably has received the same one at one point or another. i know i have read it several times before, sometimes by the snail mail even.
mr otis offers me a sum of US$4.35million as gratification, simply for partaking in some hare-brain scheme of his. apparently, some bigshot has passed away and none of his descendants know of this sum of money in his account. yah, right! so, if i were to contact him, and possibly give him the details of my bank account (he hasn't mentioned anything along that line at this juncture), i can gain access to that sum of money. hey friends, i am on my way to becoming richhhhhhhhhhh. that's like rm16.5 million. i can cash it all in $1 notes and make a mattress out of it!
dear mr otis,
thank you for your very kind offer.
i do not know how you have been able to obtain my "impressive" information from the "burkina faso chamber of commerce on foreign business relations" since i have absolutely no idea where on earth is burkina faso. however, your source of information is perhaps not of utmost importance in this case.
whilst your generosity has been unsurpassed, i am sad to inform you that i have to decline your offer. blame it on my upbringing but it has been instilled in me since young never to accept gifts from strangers, especially of this magnitude.
i do not doubt your sincerity in the offer and i am genuinely touched by your deep concern over this some of money. many would have turned a blind eye and walked on. the bank of africa is indeed fortunate to have a man of your integrity.
my religion does not permit me to be a silly, stupid and gullible fool and as such, with a heavy heart, i have to reject your offer.
nevertheless, i would like to extend my best wishes for finding an appropriate and gullible, i mean co-operative partner.
best wishes,
me
however, it is not like me to stop my very good friends from finding their pot of gold. for those who finds this offer irrestible and will like to have their shot at being a millionaire, you can contact mr otis at timothy_otis06@yahoo.co.uk.
when you are driving your porshe and smoking cuban cigars, please don't forget me.
a 'no-name' post
one lesson i have learnt from yesterday - even with state-of-the-art laptop and hi-tech handphone, if you don't have an i.t.-savvy brain, you have nada, zilch, nothing, no internet connection.
yesterday saw me hunting down all avenues in a vain attempt to be connected to the web. i tried hooking up to a normal telephone line, stealing people's broadband, begging my handphone to 'speak' to my laptop and even contemplated buying a broadband roaming card. as you very well know, my mission was a failure.
the reason for my eagerness to log onto the web, despite the obvious reason of my addiction to blogging and the torturous withdrawal symptoms like itchy fingers, foggy brain and runny nose, was because i came to realise that my post on monday has caused many readers to be concerned about my mental being (that was an extremely long sentence, try beating that!). i don't even know why, i wasn't even sad. most readers seemed to have come to the conclusion that i am a depressed, unhappy and lost looney toon. i can almost see cocka standing at the side, with a couple of men in white coats and holding a strait jacket in anticipation. this is far from the thruth, though i must admit to the looney-toon bit.
please don't be unduly alarmed at my spats of 'depressing' or what other bloggers termed as 'heavy' posts. this blog is almost like my alter ego. whilst some have chosen to be bitchy, direct or whimsical in theirs, i wanted this to be the place where i sometimes stop, think and look deeper into myself. what you see here is not what you will see in real life. you know the type of people who looks like they are all serious and in deep thought when they are silent, but are actually phasing out and daydreaming? i'm like that. most of the time when i am quiet, i am not brooding or being depressed. i am lost somewhere in that wild imagination of mine and i have turned off my brain. so, this is where i switch it back on again.
this is the place i bare all. in my world, my mouth is as tightly shut as a clam. i cannot open up, short of you boiling me first, as with the clam :-) so, i choose to do it here. sometimes, i peel off the layers of the onion to ask myself how i really feel. if you look hard, you'll realise that most times i use the word 'perhaps' and question marks. it's more like i am throwing my thoughts out there and asking people who have become my friends about the way i feel. i write without first deliberating, i let my emotions guide me. so, please don't be misled that i am always depressed and unhappy. on the contrary, i am always smiling.
at times, i have my low moments, as with everybody else. come tomorrow, the sun always shine again. being privy to my innermost thoughts in here may come across as indigestible for some, for i always seem to be so serious and depressed. i come in, i think about how i feel a little and then i leave it here and go back to my happy blur self. so, if you do come across another one of my depressing posts, please don't worry about me. i'm just letting off some steam. and if you don't know what to comment, you can always pull my leg like mr cocka does. i'll always be in the mood to laugh :-)
ok, seriousness aside. too much grim talks make one age prematurely :-)
yesterday, mr bean had to make a visit to the hospital, for a small outpatient operation. no, not rowan atkinson. my old bean (does that make HD the young bean?) it was a simple enough procedure, and everything went smoothly (this is the part where i get on my hands and legs and pray my thanks to the heavens above). i seemed to have become accustomed to that hospital from the numerous visits that i have been making in the recent years. i should start making a list of which doctors i have already made acquaintance. i was going to say 'and see if i can break my personal record' but i don't think that anymore visits to a doctor will be a good thing.
i had to cut this post prematurely short because i have run out of time. i may expand on it in the afternoon. then again, i may not.
you know the hardest part about this post? naming it.
yesterday saw me hunting down all avenues in a vain attempt to be connected to the web. i tried hooking up to a normal telephone line, stealing people's broadband, begging my handphone to 'speak' to my laptop and even contemplated buying a broadband roaming card. as you very well know, my mission was a failure.
the reason for my eagerness to log onto the web, despite the obvious reason of my addiction to blogging and the torturous withdrawal symptoms like itchy fingers, foggy brain and runny nose, was because i came to realise that my post on monday has caused many readers to be concerned about my mental being (that was an extremely long sentence, try beating that!). i don't even know why, i wasn't even sad. most readers seemed to have come to the conclusion that i am a depressed, unhappy and lost looney toon. i can almost see cocka standing at the side, with a couple of men in white coats and holding a strait jacket in anticipation. this is far from the thruth, though i must admit to the looney-toon bit.
please don't be unduly alarmed at my spats of 'depressing' or what other bloggers termed as 'heavy' posts. this blog is almost like my alter ego. whilst some have chosen to be bitchy, direct or whimsical in theirs, i wanted this to be the place where i sometimes stop, think and look deeper into myself. what you see here is not what you will see in real life. you know the type of people who looks like they are all serious and in deep thought when they are silent, but are actually phasing out and daydreaming? i'm like that. most of the time when i am quiet, i am not brooding or being depressed. i am lost somewhere in that wild imagination of mine and i have turned off my brain. so, this is where i switch it back on again.
this is the place i bare all. in my world, my mouth is as tightly shut as a clam. i cannot open up, short of you boiling me first, as with the clam :-) so, i choose to do it here. sometimes, i peel off the layers of the onion to ask myself how i really feel. if you look hard, you'll realise that most times i use the word 'perhaps' and question marks. it's more like i am throwing my thoughts out there and asking people who have become my friends about the way i feel. i write without first deliberating, i let my emotions guide me. so, please don't be misled that i am always depressed and unhappy. on the contrary, i am always smiling.
at times, i have my low moments, as with everybody else. come tomorrow, the sun always shine again. being privy to my innermost thoughts in here may come across as indigestible for some, for i always seem to be so serious and depressed. i come in, i think about how i feel a little and then i leave it here and go back to my happy blur self. so, if you do come across another one of my depressing posts, please don't worry about me. i'm just letting off some steam. and if you don't know what to comment, you can always pull my leg like mr cocka does. i'll always be in the mood to laugh :-)
ok, seriousness aside. too much grim talks make one age prematurely :-)
yesterday, mr bean had to make a visit to the hospital, for a small outpatient operation. no, not rowan atkinson. my old bean (does that make HD the young bean?) it was a simple enough procedure, and everything went smoothly (this is the part where i get on my hands and legs and pray my thanks to the heavens above). i seemed to have become accustomed to that hospital from the numerous visits that i have been making in the recent years. i should start making a list of which doctors i have already made acquaintance. i was going to say 'and see if i can break my personal record' but i don't think that anymore visits to a doctor will be a good thing.
i had to cut this post prematurely short because i have run out of time. i may expand on it in the afternoon. then again, i may not.
you know the hardest part about this post? naming it.
Monday, September 18, 2006
monday
i'm in a very strange mood today. a little bit of bitterness, a little bit of sweetness, a dose of sleepiness (from late night watching of korean series) and a tinge of muddleness.
i have something that i want to blog about - a topic close to the heart. however, being one year older has taught me that there are times when it is better to bite your tongue and keep quiet, rather than open up for the world to see. perhaps it is age. perhaps it is wisdom. i have learnt that sometimes i will do better by swallowing down by words and letting it pass. a part of me wants to leave it all here, so that i continue my journey without the burden. however, another part of me understands that words once spoken, there is no taking it back. maybe another time...
i am feeling so restless today. like there is something i want to be doing. organise a get-together perhaps? i certainly have one of those outstanding. maybe a party? halloween's still another month to go, so that will have to wait. i miss having a party though. a frenzy to get food prepared, a bustle of activities for decoration and invitation, a lot of hoo-hahs and finally, leaving all the cleaning up to the maid. yes, something...but what? the spirit is willing but the body is weak. or maybe lazy.
i had a wonderful lunch with an old friend today. perhaps the icing was the hug at the end of the day. it felt like a small part of the iceberg that is my heart melted away. maybe i am on the right track to getting the fire and warmth back. the problem with being an adult is that you put so many walls around yourself, protecting yourself from any possible way of getting hurt. so much so that you have managed to isolate every single thing in your life. you don't even know that you are doing it and it is all a subconscious reflex....... until one day, you realise that you feel nothing at all.
a little heavy on monday, don't you think? yes, definitely too heavy for me. i want to have fun.
i have something that i want to blog about - a topic close to the heart. however, being one year older has taught me that there are times when it is better to bite your tongue and keep quiet, rather than open up for the world to see. perhaps it is age. perhaps it is wisdom. i have learnt that sometimes i will do better by swallowing down by words and letting it pass. a part of me wants to leave it all here, so that i continue my journey without the burden. however, another part of me understands that words once spoken, there is no taking it back. maybe another time...
i am feeling so restless today. like there is something i want to be doing. organise a get-together perhaps? i certainly have one of those outstanding. maybe a party? halloween's still another month to go, so that will have to wait. i miss having a party though. a frenzy to get food prepared, a bustle of activities for decoration and invitation, a lot of hoo-hahs and finally, leaving all the cleaning up to the maid. yes, something...but what? the spirit is willing but the body is weak. or maybe lazy.
i had a wonderful lunch with an old friend today. perhaps the icing was the hug at the end of the day. it felt like a small part of the iceberg that is my heart melted away. maybe i am on the right track to getting the fire and warmth back. the problem with being an adult is that you put so many walls around yourself, protecting yourself from any possible way of getting hurt. so much so that you have managed to isolate every single thing in your life. you don't even know that you are doing it and it is all a subconscious reflex....... until one day, you realise that you feel nothing at all.
a little heavy on monday, don't you think? yes, definitely too heavy for me. i want to have fun.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
the final instalment
a post on saturday?! wow, my cog-wheels must be really turning!
to those readers who were a little concerned about my frame of mind yesterday, don't worry. my thoughts come and goes. i come up with very silly thoughts and ideas and it's just a part of who i am and the creativity that is also part and package of it. it knocks around a little in that grey cranium of mine and then leave without so much as a trace. today is another day.
you know what the problem is with having your birthday (yes, yet another post on that 'b' word!) towards the latter half of the year? when your birthday finally comes around, and your friends pop around with lunch invitations, you begin to wonder if they are returning a favour (because you bought them lunch for theirs) or there is a genuine sincerity to want to celebrate your special occasion with you. it isn't much fun if people are doing it out of gratitude and i suspect that it is the case 98% of the time. unfortunately, you will never know the thruth, unless you choose to ignore theirs in the first place. which, to me, isn't really an option because i like to take that opportunity to show my friends that i really do care.
so, what is a girl to do? what the heck! take whatever you get and shove the crazy logic to the dumps!
come birthday, i get a little eccentric, i think. i can't tolerate flowers (gifts i greedily accept! hahaha!) from mere acquaintance or business associates, especially those that was sent my their secretaries. you look at the card and you go, 'hey, this fella's handwriting didn't use to look like this??!!'. the only personal contact with the sender was probably from the dollar bills that was extracted to pay for the flowers. frankly, spending money like that doesn't impress me one bit.
nor those sent by organisations. try convincing me that they actually care when you popped out eons ago! just more marketing gimmick to this highly cynical lass.
this year, i realised that the best part of my birthday for the past decade and more is waking up to the same voice every year that greets me 'happy birthday' even before i open my eyes :-)
HD and the kids finally came up with the special home-made cake that i wished for, with an ounce of sweetness and a pound of love.
from this.............
to this..........
excuse me whilst i dig my teeth in it. yummmmmmm!
to those readers who were a little concerned about my frame of mind yesterday, don't worry. my thoughts come and goes. i come up with very silly thoughts and ideas and it's just a part of who i am and the creativity that is also part and package of it. it knocks around a little in that grey cranium of mine and then leave without so much as a trace. today is another day.
you know what the problem is with having your birthday (yes, yet another post on that 'b' word!) towards the latter half of the year? when your birthday finally comes around, and your friends pop around with lunch invitations, you begin to wonder if they are returning a favour (because you bought them lunch for theirs) or there is a genuine sincerity to want to celebrate your special occasion with you. it isn't much fun if people are doing it out of gratitude and i suspect that it is the case 98% of the time. unfortunately, you will never know the thruth, unless you choose to ignore theirs in the first place. which, to me, isn't really an option because i like to take that opportunity to show my friends that i really do care.
so, what is a girl to do? what the heck! take whatever you get and shove the crazy logic to the dumps!
come birthday, i get a little eccentric, i think. i can't tolerate flowers (gifts i greedily accept! hahaha!) from mere acquaintance or business associates, especially those that was sent my their secretaries. you look at the card and you go, 'hey, this fella's handwriting didn't use to look like this??!!'. the only personal contact with the sender was probably from the dollar bills that was extracted to pay for the flowers. frankly, spending money like that doesn't impress me one bit.
nor those sent by organisations. try convincing me that they actually care when you popped out eons ago! just more marketing gimmick to this highly cynical lass.
this year, i realised that the best part of my birthday for the past decade and more is waking up to the same voice every year that greets me 'happy birthday' even before i open my eyes :-)
HD and the kids finally came up with the special home-made cake that i wished for, with an ounce of sweetness and a pound of love.
from this.............
to this..........
excuse me whilst i dig my teeth in it. yummmmmmm!
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