My Blog My Way

Oh boy...

Guess I just get this over with. But I'm doing it my way...

"Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog."

My way:

1. I'm doing only the wierd facts about me unknown to most around me.
2. I'm not tagging anyone after this. :P Sorry!

My 7 wierd habits:

1. I name my beloved inanimate possessions. Back when I was a teenager, I had a walkman named Man II. That was the start of it. Now I have Blue (no guessing there), Stealth (my ever loyal phone cum PDA cum iPod cum notetaker cum everything-I-want-it-to-be) and White (my sleek and sporty netbook that reminds me of White 7-series Bimmers).


2. I collect paperbags and end their cycle. Those beautiful paperbags will go into my storeroom and will never see the light anymore! Whenever I get nice paperbags, I'll admire them, fold them nicely and will never see them again, ever. Because to me it's a sin to spoil beautiful paperbags by using them over and over again, what's more to give them to someone else. (Ah, the sin fact is #2A. *wink*)


3. I never use corporate gifts that I get from vendors, counterparts or events. Again, it's a sin to use beautiful things! Most of the gifts I receive will end up for display on my cubicle. Well... actually I use them as handy reference whenever I need to do up corporate gifts for my events. :P Just the other day, I pulled out this nifty notebook that was meant to be used in 2007 to advertise LIMA 07. It's coming to LIMA 09 and that notebook looks like new! As it is a sin to use nifty things, I put it back next to another untouched (and beautiful) notebook given by a contractor.


4. I have a hard time using other people's toilets. Even when in the office, I'd run back to my division if I need to. This is actually the one thing that irks me if I travel - I need clean toilets or toilets I am already used to! For unfamiliar and uncharted toilet territories, I'd send a messenger (the eldest girl, who else?) to check out the condition of the toilet under consideration and she'd come back with a full report! Darn... if only I can turn my toilet into a portable one and save her from her reporting! *sigh*


5. I'm squirmish even with my own fallen hair. Can't explain that, but I'd use a piece of tissue paper to pick up my own hairballs. :P


6. If I were the last to leave the office, before switching off the lights I'd give a loud salam towards the back of the office. Mind you, it does give me a spooky feeling everytime I do it. But I don't know why I still do it.


7. It's against my conscience to use 50 sen coins. All 50 sen coins that land in my hands are bound for the piggy bank. I hate feeling refrained from using those coins if I have some in the handbag; I especially hate it when I don't have exact change for the autopay machines - those machines cough up 50 sen coins that my conscience tell me not to use! I hate it when the toll-girl at AKLEH gives back 50 sen change for the RM2 that I pay to get thru. I hate it when the mamak returns 60 sen with one 50 sen and one 10 sen when I pay for my breakfast. Just because my conscience says 50 sen coins are not to be used!

There you go! Some skeletons out from the closet... Good thing this tag thingy only needs me to list 7. I'm pretty sure I have more but I think I embarrased myself enough for the entry.

:D

Goodbye 2008, Welcome 1430

The curtains are closing for 2008. 361 days ago, I wondered how I'd get thru the year.

And I'm wondering the same now for 2009.

What will chart my life?

What will scar my emotions?

What will heal me?

What will harm me?

*sigh*

Selamat Maal Hijrah 1430!

To Spend or Not To Spend, That is the Question

It's been playing in my mind for the past week. To help the economy or not to help the economy. Of course, one woman's spending doesn't affect the economy at all. But if all women in the country decide not to spend, then the economy shrinks and the big G may announce a recession. See, I'm scared of the word 'recession'.

For the past few nights, my decisions have been back and forth on eating out.

Right brain: Let's go eat out, yeay!!! KFC? McD? Kedai nenek?
Left brain: Cook laaaa... why waste money?
Right brain: No mood to cook la.... chicken not thawed yet laa... (giving all sorts of excuses).
Left brain: Aiya, spent on lunch already... cook laaa... save some money...
Me: Hmmmmmm... (looking all lost and unsure, staring blankly into space)

For the past couple of nights, the left brain won. We stayed in, I cooked dinner. The girls were elated. But it got me thinking.

Petrol price gone down, food prices still the same. People eat out less, people eat in more. Better health for people, yes. But better health for economy? No. Despite the reduction in petrol price, I think KL-ians are prudent these days. Despite no recession announcement by the government, I am very sure that some of us are starting to feel the heat that's melting the world's economy. Reading the newspaper is a mood-turner for sure. It's just depressing to read about people losing jobs - I for one lost my job in the 1998 recession, and I know how it feels to suddenly lose the ability to provide for one's family. Although I am still sticking to my belief that more people are on the road now that they can buy more petrol with less money, I do believe that they don't simply spend on materials they don't need.

Or maybe I have been the only one staying indoors and keeping my money to myself?

If I spend whatever that I have now, what would I hang on to if I become the victim of the global meltdown? But if I don't spend now, I'm helping the country's economy to shrink and eventually I become the victim of the global meltdown!

So it's like the Malay saying - diluah mati mak, ditelan mati bapak. And I certainly wouldn't want to lose my parents over this!!

:P

Surprise Surprise!!

I do this for fun.

And it is amazingly fun!

It's fun to see that sometimes things fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle. It's fun to make sense out of things that may be incomprehensible at the moment of occurence. And it's really, truly fun to see that it actually matches what happens in real life!

See, I check my Chinese horoscope before the start of every Chinese New Year. I'm a Tiger, and I'm proud of being one. I am what you can call a Stinging Tiger - a crossbreed between a scorpion and a tiger. Two very mean and strong creatures, represent the devil in me. :P

But like I said, I do it for fun. I usually scoff my reading off by saying things will never happen as according to it, and only The Almighty has the final say in everything that happens in my life - plus, things happen for many reasons what we may or may not comprehend.

Nonetheless, the reading has been very very very interesting of late.

For instance, for 2007 it said that my career would soar and that I'd be noticed. When I first read it, it was nonsensical to me. In the previous year, 2006, I went thru series of BOI, show cause letter, warning letter and unfair appraisal. So me soaring was not a thing to believe. But I had a good 2007. Not only it was kind to me, I felt I was shining like the North Star - shining so bright I may have blinded my co-workers! :D

And the person who helped me soar was the exact person who caused the BOI ordeal!

Some story, eh?

Then for 2008, the forecast was that I wouldn't do as well as in 2007, but I'd still shine. It said that I'd struggle a little. That needs no analyzing - I was struggling with no exciting tasks since end of April! I have been dragging myself out from the house knowing that nothing will top the excitement I had in April - and I've been dragging my feet for 8 months now. A good long 8 months!!

But things are picking up...

Here's the best part of today's entry.

Since Chinese New Year is coming soon, I again thought I'd see what it says for me. And to my surprise! Here's what it says:

This aspect of the star That Sat might bring you new professional opportunities. Whether they are unexpected or come to reactivate a dormant project, many proposals will be made to you and you'll have to make a choice among them. Rely on your own intuition to make this choice. You may perhaps have to move or even to settle down abroad for your job. In any case, you'll have to make an effort at adaptation, but the game will be worth the candle.

You notice the underlined? Read again. You read it? Good...

I DID apply for a job outside of the country. And I have no faith in being called or considered for the post. It's just mind-boggling and I applied out of making sense of myself and what I want in life.

And I applied before I saw this comment.

Now, I AM NOT saying that I believe in this. I am just saying WHAT A COINCIDENCE THIS IS.

What were the odds? Zero to none! Really!

But... like I have always done - I'm brushing it off, scoffing it off, forgetting it and moving on. After all, I am looking forward to an exciting event in March and a series of great things after that too!

:D

So I Thought

Most children these days have it good. Most kids these days know what McDonald's is, they have PSPs, probably know how to navigate the net let alone operate a computer.

When I was growing up, I thought God had thrown me to a wrong family. It was difficult for me to get anything. I believed that my father could not afford to get me fancy toys. When the craze was 'Game n Watch', I remember looking thru glass cases and wishing that my mother would read my mind and help me persuade my father to get me one. I remember it was Rm150 then. After a while, the price dropped to RM75 and my father still frowned whenever I stood still in front of the glass cases in one of the shops in old Semenyih town. He'd ignore my puppy look and pretend not to understand my intention.

You see, my father was the sole breadwinner. He was a lower middle-class government servant who quit teaching to join the Education Ministry. Our first house after my father was accepted into the ministry was a rented single-storey terrace. It was small, but big enough for a 7 year old to run around. Life was simple. I don't remember eating out. It was always homecooked meal. I remember envying my cousins who lived the next block, whose mom worked, often times eating out at warongs in Kajang town. My mom would always tell me that my aunty, her sister, could afford to eat out often because she worked. I always had the impression that we were not well-off at all.

I wondered why God gave me not-too-well-off parents.

I envied my cousins who would come over and show me their toys. Theirs seem cooler and captivating. They had those robots that can transform into cars and trucks... boys' toys, what can I say? For a girl who played dolls and bears all day, those Transformers definitely were eye-openers.

And I wondered why they were lucky to have working parents.

Little that I know then, that I was actually the blessed one. For one, my mother was very creative in the kitchen. Every afternoon, she would make traditional kuehs for tea. When my father arrived home from work, and as I recall it now, it was always at 5:30 pm (despite having to travel 32 kms), the three of us would sit and have tea. That would be the time when my mother would tend to her small garden, and my father would sit reading the newspaper, while I'd savor the tasty kueh that my mother had cooked up. Day in, day out. The only thing that would differ would be the kuehs.

During school holidays, my mother and I would make trips to the nearest China town on our bicycles. Or we'd cycle to my grandparents' and stay there until it's almost time for my father to arrive home.

Now that I have a family of my own, I realized that I was growing up in an almost perfect environment. Protected, sheltered, not pampered. And I forgot to mention I was the only child then. Looking at my kids, they haven't come close to the quality of life I was having then. As a working mom, I seldom cook. Homecooked meal would come once or twice on weeknights and once on weekends. I hardly make kuehs for afternoon tea. After all, one can't have tea when the mother arrives home past 6 and almost dinner time (need I mention that the travelling from home to work only takes 5 minutes?). And I hardly have time to cycle with my kids. Who does when there's laundry and other house chores to juggle?

I grew up amazed at my daun setawar farm, my kids grow up amazed at each other's PS2 skills. I grew up knowing the nooks and crannys of my neighborhood, my kids grow up knowing every corner of the house. I grew up having tasted every Malay kueh, my kids grow up knowing almost every warong in Taman Melawati.

And I thought I wasn't blessed...

:)

Why?

Warning: Please read my disclaimer over and over and over again before you continue reading. The content you are about to read requires you to fully understand my disclaimer. Should you not understand my disclaimer, I suggest you read it over and over and over and over again until you do understand it before you proceed in reading this entry.

In the span of days, I have heard in person, 2 world leaders spoke at two separate functions.

They had both kept the audience waiting. One was stuck in a terrible KL traffic, while one was stuck somewhere I refuse to find out.

But when the first one arrived at the venue of his talk, he was received with a very warm standing ovation. He gave a smile, raised his hands and he immediately brought smile to his eagerly awaiting audience. When the second arrived, the audience was relieved and wished the function would go double speed so that it would end in time.

For the sake of easy reference, let me call the first one as A and the second one as B.

When A started his speech, he sounded very knowledgeable of his topic. He was able to capture his audience, who had waited for over 2 hours to hear him in person. His voice filled the hall. He mesmerized his audience with his intonation; his eye contact was superb. His confidence filled the air making his listeners glued to their seats. I for one was admiring his voice over the PA system. It sounded so charismatic that I bet if I had been in his campaign, I would be one who gave my all to see that he made it to office. Even if he wasn't too knowledgeable about his topic, he sure made it believeable that he is a specialist of it. When A ended his talk, the audience once again gave a standing ovation. He deserved it - the ovation, the 8 year term, the respect. I wished I was able to meet him in person to tell him how much at awe I am with him.

B, on the other hand, started his speech in a monotonous tone. By his second sentence, I was counting his run-ons. Then I started believing that had my Public Speaking lecturer be in the room, he's walk over and tell B to stop and go back to revise his speech and presentation skills. Then I thought, B must have flunked his Public Speaking class. Poor guy. I could hardly make out what he was talking in reference to the function. Maybe he was blabbering! Maybe he was sleep-talking! I dunno... but I couldn't grasp a thing he said. He must have been speaking in an alien's language such that I didn't understand a word he said other than 'thank you'. When B ended his speech, there was no ovation. Even the clapping of hands were like obligated claps. I wasn't at all at awe. In fact, I was nauseated. Nauseated at the fact that B is a national leader talking in front of international dignitaries. Nauseated at the fact that B sounded less charismatic, less convincing and not even close to being knowledgeable in his topic. And when I got to see B in person passing by, I wasn't at all excited. Why?

Why, when I should be proud of my national leaders. I should be one who is patriotic, when I am actually when I talk of issues I am passionate with. But why am I not proud? Why am I not excited? Why am I not honored to see B in person when I would push and shove to be able to see A up close?

Why?

------------------------------
Who? A was the Honorable William J Clinton. I was honored to be able to watch him speak of his economic ideologies on his first ever visit to Kuala Lumpur on the 5th of December 2008. B was the Honorable Dato' Seri Abdullah Badawi who launched the LIMA 09 exhibition on 9th December 2008.

Have I Been?

I was stuck on the highway leading to KL-Seremban highway last Saturday. The cars were bumper to bumper, but I wasn't complaining. I was enjoying the drive, enjoying the songs on Red fm, humming and occasionally singing to the tunes.

Then I heard the siren of an ambulance.

From far the other side of the road, the ambulance was coming closer. As it passed me, I was stumped. It said "Az-Zahrah" on the side panel. My heart fell. Oh, they have their own ambulance now. And I was suddenly brought to the day of 23rd May 1999, in a flash.

It was the day when Siti Ainin Sofya was delivered. She came out blue. The obstetrician couldn't find her heartbeat, she found murmurs instead. She franically suctioned some phlegm from the frail baby. No go... couldn't do any good.

"Get an ambulance" she said softly but firmly to her staff. "Ambulance?" The doctor did not reply. "You stay here, take some rest. We'll make sure your baby is ok."

They owned no ambulance then. They had to call one of the privately owned. And they couldn't find a place in nearby hospitals. They had to take her to University Hospital in Petaling Jaya.

Siti Ainin Sofya was diagnosed with one of the rarest disease in Malaysia. It was myopathy - the laziness of the muscle I was explained years later. Her muscles weren't functioning as they were supposed to. They were lazy to function, too lazy to respond to the firing of the nerves. The only thing that weren't lazy were her beautiful eyes. They responded to calls of her name. She knew it was her name.

Siti Ainin Sofya saw my tears every time I went to see her. It hurt to see your baby poked by needles upon needles. It hurt to see her tubed down her small tiny nose. It hurt to see traces of dry blood on the apparatus around her. It hurt too much not to cry. It hurt to see her beautiful big eyes looking as if asking for help, as she laid there still and helpless.

That was the time when it also hurt to hear the siren of an ambulance from afar. It hurt to be reminded of a beautiful child long gone succumbed to the rarity of her illness.

But after some time, I learnt to put the hurt away, locked, so that I can move on. So that I can stop crying. After some time, the pain no longer there.

But that day, that Saturday, when I heard the siren and I saw the name of the private clinic where I delivered Siti Ainin Sofya, I was reminded of the pain. And my heart fell, and broke, and I felt like crying.

I must have been in denial. I think the pain was never locked up. I was just denying its existance in me.

I must have...

Success

I heard this on Red fm the other day. I found it to be very, very, very interesting. I may not be able to remember it word for word but I'll try and put as beautiful as how I heard it.

"A successful person is one who is not afraid of failing. As a matter of fact, a successful person's life is full of failures.

A successful person loves to fail because he knows that he will gain new experiences from falling and hurting himself.

Success is not measured by what one has achieved in life, but by what one has to go through in order to get to that achievement."

I believe I didn't put it as well. How I wish I can share the good feeling where I first heard it.

Me and Old Men

One picture in The Star's 2nd page today really made me down. It was a sight of an old man, all ready to go for his hajj, slugged in front of bags. It was taken at the Suvarnabhumi Airport amidst the turmoil that has been going on the past days.

See, I have this weakness for old men.... No... not that kind of fetish, you pervert! Just a weakness to love and be nice and to show concern to men of old age. I've had it since I can remember. I think it's because I love my grandfather so much, and when he was gone, I extended it to any old men I see on the road.

It's a feeling of love, of wanting to make sure that they are OK. It's really difficult to explain.

One night, the hubby had to take a very late bus to Hadyai. So we drove by Pudu and parked at a spot where I usually park when I drop him or pick him up. It was about 12:30 am. There was this guy, dressed in a white neat baju melayu, with a white skullcap standing there like he was waiting for someone. The hubby and I sat in the car, chatted. I couldn't help but steal some glances at the old man trying to read his feelings and emotions. Was it his first time being in KL? Who was he waiting for? Is he waiting for his daughter? Oh, I'll never let my father wait for me. He seemed like he had been standing there forever. There was a look of restlessness on his face. But also a mixture of patience.

He kept looking at each car that slowed pass him. Didn't seem that he knew who was picking him up, or the kind of car the person drives. That even broke my heart.

When hubby had to go to his bus, I opted to wait. Not because I wanted to make sure he got on the bus safely, but I felt obligated to wait with this old man for his ride to wherever. He waited, and I waited. He pulled out a small mobile from his breast pocket and checked on the time numerous times. He tilted the phone towards the streetlight. Then he put back the mobile in his breast pocket. It was 1:30 am. I couldn't help but feeling a little sad for him. It had started to drizzle a little, but he stood there never moved an inch. I felt like crying.

Hubby's bus parked within the sight of the car. He must have thought I was waiting for him. Poor guy... I was waiting on a stranger.

Slightly after 1:35 am, the bus decided it was time to go. As it slowly picked up speed from gear 1 to gear 2, a small pick-up truck stopped to pick up the old man. It was like planned. The bus moved, the old man went. And there I was in the car, in the drizzle, feeling all lost and empty for the 2 men who were in my life that past hour had just move on their own way....

*sigh*

SUV, CUV and MPV

About 5 years ago, I begun this obsession for SUVs. I'd drool at the sight of Harriers, Lexus(es) and XC 90s. Over the years, the choices broaden - there'd be Porche Cayenne, Nissan Murano, BMW X5, Mazda CX-9 and their predecessor series... oh, the whole bunch. And I'd still drool... and I'd still turn my head... ahhh... the beauty.

Mercedez Benz has never been in my choice but ML350... urgh, to die for!

So what's with the obsession of SUVs and CUVs?

Interestingly, I happen to watch this documentary on Discovery Channel over the weekend and it talked about the revolution of SUVs in the States. It was Jeep that started the whole she-bang. They came up with a model that was a total remake of the Jeep that they used during WW1. They never thought that the model would be a hit. They needed to sell 10,000 units a month for the period of 5 years in order to break even. But the first month the new model came out, they sold 60,000 units! Beyond expectation!

The automobile analysts were baffled with the outcome. They wondered why the Americans loved the SUVs. Analysis confirmed that the male Americans loved the feeling of being powerful and in control when on the roads, while the female counterparts associated SUVs with their need to be independent while being able to provide for the needs of their family.

Aaaaahhh.... guess that's why I love SUVs!

I want to be independent (of course, I have always been) and I want to be the provider (which I have always been!). I want to be powerful (despite my size) and in control (I never said I wasn't a control-freak!). Hahahhahahaha.... Oh boy! The documentary became a self-reflection to me. What I have become in personality!

Unfortunately, for the moment SUVs and CUVs are beyond my means... really! I complain most of the time to fill up Blue, let alone thinking of filling up a CUV! And the insurance coverage! Think I'd roll everytime I have to fork out the amount! So I guess I have to settle with my blue MPV instead - the most economical of its kind, the cheapest to lug 7 adults around town, and the best kind to get cheap thrills driving around the country. :D

If Only...

I came across this yesterday. The news piece was on Bush giving Obama a tour of the White House while having some private discussion.

The piece stated:

Bush also said that before he met with the president-elect, he called former President Clinton to recall a similar meeting the two had after Bush was elected.

"I said `Bill, I'm getting ready to meet with the new president and I remember how gracious you were to me,'" Bush said. "'I hope I can be as gracious to President-elect Obama as you were to me.'"

Isn't that nice? I have a feeling that when Bush said that, he meant it. Here he was, a Republican president calling a former Democrat presiden, saying that in a way "I owe it to you for being nice to me and I'm passing it on for the good of this nation". And he was nice to another Democrat who will take over his place for the next 4 years or so.

If Bush can be a humble human, why can't we?

Waiting

I'm waiting. It may come tomorrow. It may come next week.

And when it comes, I want to see how it is presented. Would it be a headline? Or would it be a small talk that would chameleon itself among the bigs ones?

Would I be clapping or would I be gruntling?

I am waiting.

:P

As we Malaysians may well know, the Government will decide whether or not to continue having Mathematics and Science being taught in English for the primary schools fairly soon after the announcement of UPSR examination results. And the result is out today. I am very sure that they have actually started tabulating the statistics already by last week. How sure would I be? Alaa... I just know lah!

Anyway, I am all for teaching these subjects in English. What I am very much against is, the way the decision is made by relevant parties. They started the move 6 years ago, guinea-pigging the Standard 1 kids. The teachers weren't very much prepared - some have awful English mind you; most of the kids weren't exposed to using English as a second language, let alone being the primary language of communication and tonnes of other setbacks but they went ahead with it anyway. Bold move.

Now 6 years have passed and the Standard 1 guinea pigs are now the guinea pigs yet again to be tested by an even higher standards, which I must mention at a national level. And if the result is nonsatisfactory, they will change the teachings to be back in the national language. Now, correct me if I am wrong but I think just one group of guinea-pigs doesn't anwer the questions accurately. Test subjects need to be in multiple batches and with variables and... oh gosh... I can't believe I'm going on and on about this.

But what ever it is, I really hope that they don't decide on changing the teaching back to Bahasa Malaysia soon. For the sake of the kids, just let it be as how it is now - Math and Science in English. It's for the better of the generation, anyway. I really hope that they don't take the easy way out...

God Works in Mysterious Ways

Just 2 nights ago, I was down. I was overwhelmed with sad and anger for things that happened in my life, laced with much yearn for something that is not mine to begin with.

So there I was, in a dark room late at night, praying and crying. I prayed for myself, I prayed for way out.

I prayed for the yearn to go.

And I relieved myself of my sadness, my pain.

The next morning I woke up to almost swollen eyes. I had to drive myself to Putrajaya for a forum. I had to do my daily routine first before I can go my way. I was still in pain.

But the drive slowly healed me. Then I saw how God works.

And I have to say that it's his MO - "You ask, but I'll decide what I give you".

He gave me a new friend, and this new friend gave me a good feeling about myself. He (as in God) gave me laughter that day. And a good feeling. And that good feeling lasted till today.

Thank you, God. You sure work in mysterious ways.

It's Monday...

It's been a dreadful Monday. So dreadful that I wish I can just stay at home until Wednesday. Nothing really interesting happened. The truth is, NOTHING happened.

Oh boy... how can I drag myself through this day?

:P

All in a Friday...

Today was R-day - report card day. The day that I dread every year. To face the class teacher and hear comments I already know too well.

So today, to ease the dread-ness, I made plans. I headed to the office first, on purpose. Even when I was on half-day leave. Had breakfast with my buddy.

I also made sure that I have my Starbucks vouchers with me so that I can just hop to one of its cafe and get me a free hot mocha to heal my pain. :P

I also planned to get me a birthday present at Southern Pottery at the Great Eastern Mall since I am eligible for a 50% discount this month.

So off I went to the class, jittery and all. Saw the teacher. Spoke to her. Comments, comments, complaints, complaints.

Aduhh....

Thing was, it was I who complaint and commented!

But it went well... So my plans for hot mocha and birthday pressie suddenly became unfounded and useless....

Apa da....

Conversation with A 4-Year-Old

4-year-old: Dia suka ikat rambut kan, Ma? (in a gossipping tone)
Mother: uh-huh
4-year-old: Tapi dia cantik ikat rambut. (in complimenting tone)
Mother: (lost for words)

This 4-year-old never cease to amaze me with her ability to talk like an adult as and when required. Scares me that she's growing up too quickly. One day I probably wake up realizing I'm talking to a 4-year-old, not my child but my grandchild.

Time flies. Don't blink!

As I Sit Alone In That Room

As I sit there in that room yesterday
I felt sad.
Do I really want to go through this?
The alienation
The awkwardness
The unfamiliarity
I have often experience the feeling
And it's not an easy feeling.

But I don't want to be too familiar
And I don't want to be too proud
I don't want to be too comfortable
Nor do I want to be too complacent.

But I don't like charting into uncharted territories.
I don't like manuveuring new routes
Or being the newbie
And making silly mistakes.

But I need new challenges
Empowerment

I need the ladder to climb.

I am torn.

I'm Fat

I'm officially fat!

NO! Don't say it! Don't deny me! I AM FAT!

I have been avoiding the scales since ages ago, and I know it will break if I weigh myself now. And I thought I was looking good 2 months ago! A month of gobbling down raya food made me put on what I lost in 3 months!

Cemana ni??

Can't think of a way to lose this quickly before year end... At least not until I finish this goreng pisang courtesy of my clerk....

:P

Spur Of the Moment

Have you ever been in a situation where someone you don't know well seem to have the same sentiments over a third person?

And that sentiment seems to be accepted by a few of those who seem to be observing the environment.

I'm referring but not limited to:

(a) a co-worker who bullshits too much
(b) a sibling who brags all the time
(c) a close friend who hails him/herself once too often

In my case, it's always (a). And it seems that his/her previous superiors have the same idea about this particular person; that they do not take his/her words, that they think he/she is full of BSes, that they outrightly hint that this fella is close to useless!

Not that I am jubilant about it. After all, he/she is free to take up my tasks the moment I'm gone from my current cubicle. And this person can manage the generality of his/her tasks while I go and sail away in my new boat!

But the fact that this person does not realize that some have noted his/her bullshiting activities, is a sad thing. Maybe when one throws too many false statements, the mind in itself no longer knows what is false and what is true! Kesian nyerr!

Cacat la like that!

Meltdown

When I was in my Economic 101 class, and learning about recession, I prayed that I never have to experience it.

Recession sounded big and terrifying. I imagined dark clouds hoarding the skies, all dull and gloomy, life so sad and unpretty.

Then a month ago, it dawned to me that it is already recession... that the economy is going down instead of up. And it is slowly but steadily going down. Then news about other countries trying to revive their economic situation start coming. Financial institution having hard times, interest rates steathily increased, stock markets fall below certain marks. It is recession, and I'm living through it. Though not as scary as I had imagined it to be but still it is scary. Money has no value, work becomes scarce, projects halted. It will go even lower than now to a point where things just can't go lower anymore and then, and only then, it will start to move up... as slow and as steady as it had when it went down.

I start seeing less patrons at food stalls. People have started to have homecooked meal.

Slowly things will go for the worst... And I'm living through it... Scary....

P/S: Though it's a sad economic state, let's just have a happy Deepavali, ok? :D

Betrayal

Or is it? I don't know.

What do you call it when you know your best friend sells stories that she/he shouldn't have? And that best friend doesn't admit to doing anything wrong.

What do you do? Do you confront your best friend? Do you let it be and pretend things didn't happen? Or do you stray away and slowly let go of the friendship?

Mail me and tell me what you think. Drop me a line at aina997@yahoo.com.

I Screamed at Her

Poor woman. All she ever wanted to do was to ask for opinion on how she should react to her employer. She was looking for solace, or maybe a good friend's ear and shoulder to listen and comfort her. I, on the other hand, was too busy pretending that I love my life.

Her number never appears on my phone. So when "Unknown" appeared, I could only think it was a bank trying to sell one of its products. I didn't think it was her, as she had been really quiet for more than a month.

Then I heard her chirpy voice.

She: Hi!
Me: Oh, hi...
She: Is it convenient for you to talk?
Me (thinking): Oh God, not even asking if I was well to listen to her whining.
Me: I'm driving.

A pause. A very awkward pause.

Me: What's wrong?

Another awkward pause.

Me: What's wrong? Tell me, what's wrong?

Then she started, whining and complaining about her work. Claiming that she doesn't know what she did wrong. Giving all the excuses in life that she's not at fault. Blaming her boss for waiting for her tasks to finish. I was going "Uh-uh", "Uh-hum", and "Hmm".

After 5 minutes, I couldn't take it. I didn't know what got into me, but I felt the devil sitting on my shoulders whispering evil words.

Then I did it. "Woman! Stop blaming people for things in life! Stop blaming the computer for having XP and that you need time to get used to using XP! It's not an excuse! Start seeing yourself as the reason to all your miseries! For goodness sake, do you think that you are too perfect that everyone is at the wrong and that you are right all the time???"

I think the whole of my uncle's neighborhood could hear me screaming. I bet it must have been an odd picture - a woman clad in proper baju kurung, with matching heels and expensive small bag screaming over the phone. They must have thought I was having a row with the hubby.

I just couldn't take the negativity any more. I need to be positive in times of negatives. I can't let her whining bring me down. But most of all, I have no strength to give her some of my positivities. I am weak, and I need no burden to carry.

But poor woman. This would be my second time screaming at her in our 10 years of friendship. The first one had us disappear from each other's lives for 6 years. I bet this one will do the same.

But hey, sometimes people just need some time away from one another.

*sigh*

Crossroad

You know how it is, to be at one. When you need to choose to either go left or right. When you have to choose between two.

I felt the crossroad as if it was real today, even when it was only perceived. Yes, my crossroad was just in my perception. Because I haven't come to the crossroad yet. Not yet, but soon.

I honestly thought I have decided. I really thought I have. I really thought I wanted it. But I do want it. I want it because it will be too late if I don't now.

But when I saw his face, his expectation and his empowerment weakened me. He made me guilty for thinking of the road I want to take. For needing the path. He is the one person who sees me in a different light, the one person whom I serve with great pleasure.

Would I be able to tell him that I choose to walk out the door and not stay? And leave my babies behind. My babies. My love. He, who entrusted me with the babies. He, who encouraged my skills, and respected my love for the babies.

But I have to wait till end of next year to see my babies again. I'll be too old to move by then. I'll be 35, and not a good age to walk out into a new neighborhood. It's not a time to learn to walk; it's a time to climb. And I need to climb. But I'll miss my babies.

Will I be able to look into his eyes and bid farewell to the person who treats me like his eyes, his hands and his legs? The one person who treats me human in the world of slaves? Will I?

I don't know. I wish the crossroad will not give me a hard time deciding when I come to it.

After all, I still have not seen it.

Jiwa Kacau

JK, she calls me. JK stands for Jiwa Kacau.

Very kacau la lately, I admit. I can't seem to be able to handle it. I try to blame one thing for it, yet when I really look, there's actually more than 10 reasons to my jiwa kacau.

It's so obvious that even a friend said I haven't been myself lately, and she's only judging that through my Facebook statuses. Well, I am a born transparent! What can I do?

For weeks, some kind of poisonous liquid has been flowing in my veins. I can feel it destructing my positivities. When the poison is not doing its job, I can feel that I'm being myself. But when the poison starts flowing again, I'm like a scorpion ready to sting.

Even the smallest of gedik-ness nauseates me when I have JK. Oh please, don't come and play buddy-buddy with me when I have JK. Please don't come and tell me about missing your girlfriend. Please don't come to me and try making friendly conversations without knowing the facts. And please, and this is most important, watch your step! You may unknowingly step on my toes and this scorpion will sting you without you knowing why!

I hate this. This is not me. Yes, I am a scorpion, but a scorpion that shies away when it doesn't feel like stinging. Yes, I am a tigress, but a tigress that roars to protect itself, its territory and its cubs.

I don't sting without reasons; I don't roar without being provoked. Not before.

*sigh*

I hope this phase ends soon.

Or is this mid-life crisis?

I Am With Emotions

I feel compelled to share with you this feelings. Hopefully once I got it out, I am able to come to terms with it.

Every time I listen to Mariah Carey's Bye Bye, I can't help but think of one person - my late mother-in-law. Every time it gets to the chorus, I would choke back and my eyes would water.

The chorus goes like this:

I never knew I could hurt like this

And everyday life goes on like

"I wish I could talk to you for awhile"

Miss you but I try not to cry

As time goes by

And soon as you reach a better place

Still I'd give the world to see your face

And I'm right here next to you

But it's like you're gone too soon

Now the hardest thing to do is say bye bye

I was not that close to her. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of things that happened between her and me that shouldn't have happened. But a human is a human, and a human is not all bad or all good. A human has a mixture of everything, and it also depends on how we look at them.

I had my fair share of sharing grievances with her, fair share of laughter, fair share of love and emotions.

Until now, I can't shed the images of her smiling when she hugged Schera the day before she passed on. Until now, I can still hear her saying "Datang lah lagi" when I salam her and kissed her forehead the day before she went on. I still remember her laughing and smiling with her friends that Sunday when we crowded the house to see her. I remember detailing her small body, looking all frail and tired and fragile, yet she braved a smile everytime people spoke to her. And the next day I saw her all cold and still, and I felt like screaming and telling her to wake up. I felt like screaming and telling her to stop kidding around and make her grandchildren happy... But she was all cold... and still.

Despite our differences, I couldn't help but feel affected when she went away. After all, I had known her for 13 years - had seen her smile, had heard her voice, had smell her scent. Had her staying in my house and she had me stay in hers. Through the small window that we had, we shared, we emphatized, we felt... after all, we were women.

"Mama, my prayers are with you. I will never forget you. I wish I can see your smile again..."

Nothing Interesting

I schemed thru The Star the past 2 days and nothing interesting caught my eyes. Could this be for real? That nothing interesting is happening on the Malaysian soil other than some old man promising to annouce his stand in defending his post? I pried each and every one of the columns, right to the classifieds and no, nothing interest me at all. I forced myself to read about a man who denounced his son publicly as the son who owed the Ah Longs a huge sum has gone missing and leaving his family to the wrath of the Ah Longs. Then I looked at the smiling face of Raja Petra walking out of court, looking more like Harith Iskandar than himself, with a Giant plastic bag hanging from his left wrist. I read about him having finished reading 9 books while detained. I flipped further and saw Eva Longoria-Parker who went campaigning for Obama. Pretty woman, I thought to myself. Reading the newspaper has never been so uneventful.

Oh well. I suppose everything slows down when the economic graphs turn downwards.

Then, my phone beebed. A text message. I read the message, I was puzzled. I read it again and again. Then, I got it. When I did, I felt like throwing the phone to the wall!

The message read "Nikmati 20 SMS Percuma (Maxis ke Maxis) di dalam akaun anda. Satu cenderahati istimewa utk meraikan hari ulang tahun anda melanggani khidmat prabayar Hotlink." Loosely translated: Enjoy free 20 SMSes (Maxis to Maxis) in your account. A special token to celebrate your anniversary of subscribing to Maxis prepaid service.

Huh?? What the??

Did they know that I've been subscribing for 10 years already? A meager 20 free text messages doesn't come close to the amount I spent topping up and keeping my number active. This is an insult!!! What's more, I only pay 1 sen for every Maxis number that I frequently text! That only comes up to 20 sen of so-called token of appreciation! 'Special' sommo I tell you! Wallauweh... Daylight robbery nih!

OMG, I felt so cheated!

Come on la Maxis, spare me your BSes. I'm only keeping this number coz I've had it for a decade. Please check your system what kind of grievances that I've had the past 10 years, and please acknowledge accordingly. 20 sen as opposed to the thousands you've reaped from me? Gosh, you must think I'm dumb.

But then again, I maybe am. Maybe I am dumb to stay longer than I should, Maxis or anything else, for that matter.

I'm looking for ways to subscribe to the Multi Number Package right now. Maybe I should let Digi become my carrier instead. Kedekut punya Maxis! Need to teach 'em a lesson. Let it lose one customer... But, maybe it doesn't notice at all. *sigh*

Oh well, at least that made my adrenaline pump all over. Least it made the night slightly more interesting. :p

I'm Tired

I'm tired
I'm just tired

I'm tired of propelling these emotions
I'm tired of navigating and hoping I don't lose sight of the destination
I'm tired of manning the ship, tired of fighting the squalls and cleaning up the wrecks
I'm tired of folding the sail and unfolding it again when the wind blows my way

I'm tired of reading the script and wondering how to manouveur the character
I'm tired of trying to please the movie director
I'm tired of putting on make-up to make me look pretty
I'm tired of trying not to look ugly

I'm tired of being tired
I'm giving up
I am

I'm tired
I'm just too tired

Blog Hiatus

I almost forgot that I have a blog to update... Time flies these days, you can't seem to grab the time even when in actual you're not doing anything...

Ramadhan came and went in just a blink. Soon, Syawal will too. Looking at my calendar, the weekends have been booked with weddings (yes, weddings... when I was growing up, I only went for beraya in Syawal), open houses and reunions. I still have uncles and aunties to visit, but I have no time to go! Not on a working day! So when?? I probably end up not going at all.

So many things happened in the past 2 weeks.

1. Ramadhan ended. As far as I can remember, I never managed to do terawikh prayers till the last day. This year, I did. And for some reasons, it was a syahdu one. I remember my mom used to say 'Sedihnyer bulan puasa nak abis...'. I never understood. That night I did. I had tears in my eyes when I smiled at the person next to me and held her hand. She said 'Selesai dah kita...'.

2. The wait that made me decide. Well, the wait ended. And I have decided. I think I need to move on so that I can advance my personal skills. Thinking more of the PR field now... a full-fledged Corporate Communications person would be my target, in the PR field. Heck, I might as well work full-time organizing reunions and gatherings at home! Ahaks... if only that would pay my bills.

3. I got a new bag! A bigger thing to fit all my junks. And since it doesn't have a separator/divider, I had to dig into it every time I need to look for something... *sigh*

4. My kitchen got its kitchen look, finally! But will that make me cook more often? We'll see... hehehehhehe

Oh well...

Poor Little Thing

This morning I was hyped to comment on Raja Petra being detained under ISA. I was having flashes that it was the headline in all major newspapers and I was all set to blurt out my feelings on the matter.

But the instant I stepped into the office, I was stunted.

On the front page of The Star, a cute smiling face of an 8-year old, with braided piggy tails. And the bigger picture showed her mom, face all swollen from crying. The little girl was found dead, in the toilet of her school. She fell and she was gone. While I was reading the news, I couldn't help but hold back tears. I was imagining little Yap Li Xuen moments before she blacked out, in that cubicle. Was she feeling pain? Was she feeling hurt? Was she wanting to call her friends to let them know she was not feeling well? I felt so sad for her... She must have felt helpless...

Poor little thing. What did she feel when she fell? Was she still alive then? Was it painful for her? Was she screaming but in actual noone heard her because her voice didn't come out?

I couldn't imagine what that tiny body was going through, what that small brain was emitting.

:'(

Then I thought of the parents. They must be devastated. 5 years ago, they lost their elder daughter at age 5 to brain tumor. Yesterday they lost Li Xuen. I lost a baby and I almost went crazy. Took me 8 years to recover. Them? Lost 2 babies in a short span... Only faith can hold them together, and love... I pray they have ample of both.

If I can meet Li Xuen's mother, I would cry with her...

Come On! Hop On the Facebook Bandwagon!

I was introduced to Facebook about a year ago. A friend who was on sabbatical in the States invited all his colleagues, including me to sign up. I remember him talking about this "kewl" thing - a mixture of blogging, sharing picture albums, and loads of other stuff. I was already exposed to blogs at that time, only that I blogged once and it just didn't feel right.

So when Julian was so enthusiatic about Facebook, I signed up. At first it was a pening thing for me. I wondered what to do, where to click, what happens when I click. No manuals to refer to, just hands-on experience.

One of the first long-lost friends I found was Shake. Then Bart, and then I got excited. The friends list became more and more, and I was focused on looking for college and school friends. I became addicted and invited more friends to join. When I found these old friends, I made sure I editted the friend's details and go the extra mile to get them to approve it.

Soon, I got in contact with many whom share the same alma mater and those whom I haven't met in close to 20 years. Such a great thing, this Facebook!

Facebook was mentioned in CSI, Facebook was used in Maxis' advertisement, and today - an article spoke of a Malaysian lady in Hong Kong using Facebook to seek assistance in getting powdered milk for her child. WOW! Such tool!

So if you haven't joined the bandwagon yet, hop on! I promise you that you'll not be disappointed!

:D

Bloggers Beware!

Oh yes! Be on toes, dear Malaysian bloggers, for you may never know what kind of eyes are reading your writing! MUAAHAHHAHAHHAHA

Gosh, getting your opinions heard these days do cost you your freedom sometimes.

Anyways...

Today I read in a local daily a writing by our dear Tan Sri Lee Lam Thye on the Race Relation Act. Before I comment on what he said, lemme say what I thought the moment I heard of the proposal. Oh well, with due respect to Ramadhan, I'm removing all profanities - but in general , I thought they should impose the act - but on politicians only, not the public. As for far as this issue has been, I can only recall only the politicians have racial problems. The public doesn't, at least they don't express it on the media - printed or multi or whatever media source there is in this country. But whatever it is, the public assumes their lives as it has been for generations - in unity and respect. Some are even unaware of the racial issues raised by these politicians, just because their lives have always been teh tarik between Ah Chong, Ramu and Hassan. So what's the issue? There's no issue. But the politicians are creating the issue and blaming the wrong people for it. Kinda dumb I must say. Opps, I'd probably be ISA-ed for saying that. Duhhh....

In his writing, Tan Sri Lee voiced that inter-racial harmony and unity cannot be achieved through legislation. True, I agree. Like one parenting rule I heard once before - the more the parents say no to something, the more the child wants to do/get the thing that he/she wants. Rebellion. Simple. But if you reason, you probably get the child off it for the rest of his/her life. So I agree with Tan Sri Lee that legislation will not do any good. More harm I'd foresee. He also said that these whole goal can be achieved by starting with one's self. Yes, instill in ourselves, our children but don't make it a subject in school laaa... Lost?

Lemme explain. In the same local daily yesterday, it was reported that the Education Ministry has proposed an exchange program for the SJK, SJKT and SJKC pupils for the children to understand each other's culture and to instill racial harmony. Boleh ke? Is that how we teach our children ways to accept the culture of others? To expose, probably. But to instill? I don't think so. It takes not just the kid, but also the parents to ingrain in the kid's mind that cultures exist in Malaysia and that we are all integrated one way or another. Then what? Put the parents on the exchange program too? Ahak!

The exchange program should actually be in our daily lives; ongoing, never ending and permanent. It goes beyond classrooms, lecturer halls and schools. Not to be taught to the brain, but to the heart. With love, openness and acceptance. Constant, not periodical. Agree?

This is a picture I love so much - of Asunta, me and Poh Ling. Three happy innocent faces who only know of friendship that has extended to even now after many many years apart.

Of tyre nuts and Bangsa Malaysia

I finally got new nuts for my not-so-new rims. They look swell!! Should've taken the before picture so that you can tell the difference. What's left now is to make new plate numbers. The current ones, which are not even 2 yrs, are now yellow and makes Blue look shabby and haggard. Poor Blue! Sekali sekala I pimp my ride my style...

Da Boss, the tyre shop owner, recommended that I use blue-colored nuts. Blue-colored nuts? Oh, puh-leez! I maybe crazy about Blue but not to that extend! Then he said the Indians love blue, and he smiled a naughty one. Aiyo, please lah Apek, what statement! I thought this is the best time for me to instill my sentiment. I looked at him and said 'Saya bukan orang India, saya orang Malaysia.' Aduuh... Now that I see it in words, it does seem out of place! No wonder Da Boss gave me a puzzled look! Hahaha... Nak mengajar tak kena tempat!

Malu nyerrr... But at least my tyres look good for raya! Heh heh...

Closure, finally

The closure came. The silence was broken. And finally I can let go. And move on with my life.

Thank you, silence-breaker. It means the world to me that today I am able to speak to you with no barrier. It means the world to me that we are on talking terms again.

I hope this is a start of a new beginning for us as friends. I hope we can be just like me and the rest of my friends - lifelong of sharing and understanding and supporting. I hope I can show you what friendship means to me, and why friends are my lifeline. And I hope you can understand and cherish this gift God has bestowed upon us.

But if you choose to go away and not take the friendship after today, I understand. If this is the only time you break the silence and regret breaking it, I can take it. If you decide after today it's a friendship not worth keeping, I can accept.

Whatever it is that you choose, allow me to pen myself 'Your Friend Forever'.

May God bless you, like God has blessed my other friends.

Does It Make A Difference To You?

I know I often formulate wierd ideas. Not that I impose them on anyone, but more often than not, I share it.

My latest formulation (is there such word?) is that the recent 15 sen reduction in petrol price has encouranged the people of KL to drive more compared to when the petrol price was hiked some month ago.

You think 15 sen less makes you drive more?

What makes me say so, you ask. Well, I travel every morning from home to Jalan Aman, chauferring my eldest to school. In those days when petrol price wasn't yet RM2.70, I had to leave home at 6:40 am the latest if I didn't want to get caught in the jam. 6:40 am - smooth riding from Ulu Klang right up to the elevated highway (AKLEH) that took about 7 minutes. Anything after that, no school!

Then, the petrol price hike happened. Much to my happiness (and I found this out accidentally by waking up late), that leaving home at 7 am gets me to school in 15 minutes! Wahhh... ini sudah cukup bagus! Really! No kidding... the road was not hectic, less cars, smooth sailing all the way...

But when the price was reduced - by a mere 15 sen, I remind you, more cars came back on the road!! Tisya has to log her late attendance this morning, thanks to me taking my time in the bathroom and to the slower-than-snail traffic! We left home at 3 minutes to 7, got to the elevated highway at 7:25!!

No, not the drizzle. No drizzle! No, not the accident. No accident!

Just cars... inching away...

So, does 15 sen make a big difference? It doesn't to me, maybe it doesn't to you. But seems it does to many others. :P

Finally, Nyah Kau!

Finally I have eaten the Kinder Bueno that has been sitting on my table for the past 3 months. I'm done with being sentimental. I'm ready to move on.

That's it! Nyah kau dari memori ku!

But I'm still keeping the wrapper. :P

Have Been A While (The Inadvertant Has Come!)

I think it has been a while since my last post. Wasn't too busy, only too busy layan-ing my swollen gum the whole of last week. I think I did do a draft on my phone to post, during one of those nights I couldn't sleep but when I read it again, I felt it wasn't the in the right tone.

Oh well...

Anyway, Ramadhan has been a week now. The first week passed so quickly. Of course, I was on MC for 2 days - the longest I've ever taken in my employment history other that maternity (need I brag!), tau-tau already 1 week! Time flies nowadays, regardless if you're having fun or not! :D

It's different this time round for me. Different in a sense that, when most Ramadhan I lose weight, this time I put on! Thus the subtitle - The Inadvertant Has Come! I had a hunch that all of my power-walks effort will go down the drain when I decided that I have no will-power to power-walk during Ramadhan. And went down the drain, it did! In no less than a week, too!

Aiyo! What happened? I feel flabbier, heavier and no energy! I stared at the mirror in the room to find bulges smiling back at me, when they were whimping and whining some 1 week back! And I dare not even touch the scale! Every time I pass it, I wish it's sleeping or some sort and not noticing me pass by. :P

So what encouraged the bulges? Lemme see.... There was other half's office buka puasa at our house last Friday. That had me stuffed barbeque-d lambs and beef, and some cocktail sausages. And tasteful, huge samosa - courtesy of the only lady in his office. Then there was buka puasa with Mohan and wife at a the house again, the very next day. We had wonderful nasi bukhara - bought at Syed's, and some sweet local delicacy. That too stuffed me to the max. By this time, my swollen gum had wondered why it was swelling yet I was having fun stuffing and piling food on it!

The leftovers from these all turned sahur into a feast, adding more to the happiness of the bulges... Gosh....

Then there was LIMA 09's buka puasa do on Monday. Though I only stuffed myself with teh tariks and coffees, I have a feeling the bulges were very happy with the glucose contents, something they can turn into their playmates.

Wonder if my baju raya will fit...

Nak kena cili mulut dia nih!

"Nak kena cili mulut dia nih!" is a Malay expression. The direct translation is "to rub chillies on one's mouth". For what? For saying nasty things...

Honestly I haven't been reading the newspapers lately. I have been so much to myself, especially which the latest stint of swollen gum and 2 days of MC, the newspapers take the back seat in my life.

But it seems that someone said something racial during the recent Permatang Pauh's by-election. And even though he wasn't talking about me, I can't help but feel emotional about his statement.

He called a certain group pendatang - immigrants. If I can stand in front of him, and look him straight in the eye, I'd ask him "Awak tu orang asli Tanah Melayu ke? Atau awak asal Sabah atau Sarawak ke? Awak orang Kadazan ke, Bidayuh ke?" I have no intentions of belittling these etnic groups, only that I would want this guy to admit if he was born an indigenous. If he was, then he has all the rights to say what he said. But I can bet you my last dime (macam kat The States pulak) that he is a Malay, and he'd claim he's a pure Malay at that. Tapi Melayu yang tak sedar diri, that much I can say.... marah ni!

Who is he to say that the Chinese are immigrants? As much as he didn't say it, he's also stating that the Indians are too. The Malays? He must have thought that his grandfather and great-great grandfather were born here. Before that? Jatuh from the sky, I suppose? If he studied carefully, he'd know better that to say what he said. If he studied carefully, he would have to say that all of us are immigrants! What was he thinking???

As much as my Malays friends have rights on this land, my Chinese friends do too... and so do my Indian friends.... As much as Aina has the rights to be a Malaysian, so do Chong Phui Fong and Asunta Muniandy. As much as Halim has the rights as a Malaysian, so do Raymond Ng and Pietro Felix. Everyone has the rights on this land and noone has the rights to say otherwise. Cemana nak have a unified Malaysia kalau the politicians have racial issues? Cemana nak cakap pasal having a better Malaysia when the politicians themselves yang create racial tensions?? How can we teach our children the life that we have had once when the politicians are marring the pictures with hatred?

Bodoh tak bodoh ke politician sekarang ni? And they wonder why many vote for alternatives... No wonder I label them as stupidos, no wonder I don't vote (for them). After all these anger, I feel sad. I feel like crying. I feel sad for those who did not grow up multi-racial. I feel sad for those who only know one race and one race only. I feel sad for those who never knew how it feels to be different yet accepted and belonged. I feel sad, really sad...

I remember calling an ah-pek 'Atuk' as if he was my own grandfather. I remember feeling all sad and affected when I knew he died. I remember calling my next door neighbor Uncle and him treating me like his own girl. I know the little Indian girl who stays in front of my parents' calling my parents atuk and nenek. I remember and know that all these love still exist among ethnic groups in rural areas, but in the urban areas it is being spoiled by the very politicians who are supposed to spread the same kind of love and unity. Apa ni... why is the double standard?

Until I can find the answer to this, I just recoil into my small coccoon and try to figure out how I make a difference. And Micheal Jackson's song suddenly plays in my head:

I'm Starting With The Man InThe Mirror

I'm Asking Him To Change

His Ways

And No Message Could Have

Been Any Clearer

If You Wanna Make The World

A Better Place

(If You Wanna Make The

World A Better Place)

Take A Look At Yourself, And

Then Make A Change

(Take A Look At Yourself, And

Then Make A Change)

(Na Na Na, Na Na Na, Na Na,Na Nah)

I'm going to make at least my world a better place...

I Don't Get It

Finally got to see this year's Petronas' Merdeka advertisement. If all these time I've been one to be at awe with the messages, this time I was baffled. What's the message, people? I don't understand.

Pairing Afdlin Shauki and that boy from Astro Ceria's Hikayat Putera Shazlan doesn't do the trick either. Don't get me wrong. I love Afdlin Shauki. Seeing his face immediately brings smile to my face. OK, maybe he plays the role of a father who has a sense of humor. I can get that. The son? His facial gestures tak kena la... or is it because I memang tak berkenan ngan budak tu to begin with??

But then now the bigger question is what's the message? The boy grew up to become a successful son who then bought a superbike for the father who when he was growing up, saved some money instead of lavishing to the son's request. By not lavishing him, the son was challenged to make do with things around him and to be creative in using these things to get his wants. OK... But I'm still blurr. What has that got to do with Merdeka?

To remember the deeds of our parents? Err, I think that fits best for raya. To think outside the box? Eh, that's CSI!

Then, what?

So help me people... Explain it to me. I just don't get it.

Happy Merdeka Day, Malaysia!

I haven't yet bought a new flag to hang at my house door. May be tonight... or maybe I'll just wash the old one tonight and just hang it up right away... Or maybe I'll get a new one, wash the old one and have Jalur Gemilangs all over my house tonight. hehehhehe

Whatever it is I'd be doing, I can't help feeling a small sense of belonging - this is my country, my Malaysia. It doesn't matter if I hate the jams when a small spat of rain happens, no matter how much I hate how Malaysians are kay-poh-chee even when the accident happens on the other side of the highway, no matter how much I hate the politics, it is still my Malaysia and the Malaysia to many others.

It is the Malaysia that has diversified cultures, multi-languages, many colors and tonnes of attitudes. It doesn't matter if you were born a Malay, a Chinese, an Indian, a Bidayuh or any ethnic background whatsoever, you'll be complaining when it rains and you'll complain even more when it doesn't. Just because you're a Malaysian.

I can't help but feeling patriotic when the date comes closer. As I age, I learn to love the day more, as it means more and more to me as the years pass by. When I was younger and just got back from the States, I really wished I had decided to stay there and not come back. I wondered why I came back. The heat was driving me crazy, constructions were everywhere, horrendous jams, costs of living were high, difficult to get jobs, I just wasn't happy to be home. I wanted to go back to the States where life seemed easier, calmer and more organized. To me the States was home. I never realized I was home.

Every since then, I kept comparing life between the 2 countries. How grass seemed greener there than here. How things were cheaper. I observed 4th July, not loving 31st August. I hated that Sudirman's song they kept playing over and over again on the radio and television channels.

But one day, a stone from Jupiter hit me. I am here, not there. I was born here, not there. I went to school here, not there. I had most of my growing up years here, not there. Why can't I love this land here more than there?

Put the silly politics aside, put the heat aside, put all the negativities aside, this is my country. This is my Malaysia. I have as much rights to it as my neighbors, as much rights to it as my schoolmates, as much rights to it as my colleagues. It is a beautiful country when the skies are blue, it is a beautiful country when the dark clouds hoard the skies. It is just as beautiful as New Zealand, as colorful as Africa, as diversified as the States. And why must I compare?

I love it when I open my house door and I see the different ethnics living together in harmony. It doesn't matter if you pangkah dacing, bulan or bulan biru or whatever it is that you pangkah, you open your house door and you greet your neighbor who is born a Chinese, or born an Indian or born a Sikh. When I jog and pass all the houses, I love the combination of cooking aroma - the scent of rendang, the scent of fried garlic, the scent of strong curry, all become the scent of Malaysia. During Ramadhan, and we're coming to it very soon, I love the sight of the non-Muslims buying food together with their Muslim counterparts. When I break fast at restaurants or malls, I love the sight of the multi-cultures all together waiting for the azan, to eat together and indulge in the delicious food already waiting on their tables.

I probably can get this anywhere else. I probably can get this in Jakarta, or in Singapore. I probably can get this is Colchester, or Glasgow, or Edinburgh for that matter. But no, I am feeling it here. In my Malaysia. Your Malaysia. Our Malaysia.

So I ask you my friends, let's all hold hands and celebrate this day. It's not for the sake of our forefathers, it's not for the sake of our children. It's for us, now, present. It's for Malaysia, our Malaysia.

Happy Merdeka, Malaysia... I love you...

The Call

I just got the call. The long awaited call. The number that appeared was +6000. I wondered if it was a long distance. Who'd call me? From where? Hopes went up, hopes started flying... could it be? Could it be?

Me: "Hello?" (with a very cautious voice)
The person: "Hello... Is this Cik Aina Othman?"
Me: "Yes" (still cautious, but hope already flying)
The person: "I am Lina, calling from Digi Billing Department"

Ho ho ho... Santa has arrived, and he arrived real early too. The call was from Digi to let me know that my RM73.45 has now been transferred from my expired number to the new one!

YEAY!!! (Though I must say all my hopes came crushing down soon after the lady introduced herself...)

HAHHAHAHHAHAH... what a fool, me.

It Doesn't Matter What Happens Now

No, it doesn't. It doesn't matter to me if fuel price goes up. It doesn't matter to me if food prices soar. It doesn't matter to me if my salary review does not come this year. It doesn't matter what happens now.

To me, today and since last night, I am over the moon. Personal battle doesn't exist, cancer cells are no issues. My mood has changed. I am happy and smiling. It feels like a big burden taken off my chest. Funny thing is I didn't do anything! Had I played a part in campaigning, had I played a part in convincing, had I played a part in funding, I would know I deserve to feel like this. But no, all I did was hope. And my hope came true. I can only imagine if I had played a part! I must have flown to Jupiter and back! Woopppiiee... Hehehe...

In my head right now I have flashes of him smiling and beaming. I have flashes of the jubilant smiles everywhere and all around him. The love, the hope, the pride, the mission. It's all becoming bigger and brighter. It's all becoming clearer. And I am smiling with them, feeling their love, sharing the pride, hoping the best for the mission.

So really, it doesn't matter what happens now. It doesn't matter what have happened too. It doesn't matter that during build-up Monday, an inconsiderate b@#%$*d stepped all over me and broke my self-worth. It doesn't matter now that on build-up Monday, that same inconsiderate b@#%$*d damaged an organ of mine. But it doesn't matter now because that inconsiderate b@#%$*d is one b@#%$*d less in my life.

All that matters now is, I am back to my old self. And DSAI is walking to his seat in Parliament. :D

My Life as an Exhibitionist

(Disclaimer: This is how I deal with my battle - I lie to myself that there's no battle. I only face the battle when I want to, so please humor me.)

I have a weird job scope. I have one direct boss, and one indirect boss. The direct boss needs no explanation; the indirect boss - hmmm... I am also not sure how it works. See, I deal with my indirect boss only for exhibitions, and only on the contract signing and correspondence with the exhibition organisers. All else on the exhibitions, I have other bosses to report to. Funny? Yeah.

Anyway, my indirect boss calls me 'The Exhibitionist'. The moment he called me that, I laughed. I had the image of me bikini-clad (red, mind you), with hyperhigh heels, holding placard asking people to drop by our booth. Hehehe... Kinky? Very.

During a conversation with an event manager one day, my indirect boss introduced me as 'The Exhibitionist'. The event manager laughed loud, and my indirect boss was impressed that the guy understood. Then the event manager said, 'Sir, I am the orgy-niser'.... HAHAHA... (Don't get it? Susah la cam ni...)

Anyway, life as an exhibitionist can be quite hectic. But fullfilling all the same. It's like doing PR, event-ly. I get to liaise with strangers who immediately become acquaintances, especially so if I meet them the next year at the same event. Some are now my regular lunch buddies; we've crossed the border of client-vendor and become plain friends.

The downside of being an exhibitionist is having to be around during build-up day. Build-up days equal tonnes of dust filling the exhibition hall, with no ventilation and usually very heaty (Malaysia maaa... Whatdaya expect?). I'd end up with oily face, berlengas satu badan and I usually suffer from post-exhibition zits. But trust me, the downside is actually the best part. You'll see booths turn from bare to colorful; from nothing to something. You see images on papers becoming real-life set-up.

The sad part is always the tear-down day. All the anguish, the anxiety, the arguments, the frustration, all gone with just one kick. I usually cry on tear-down day. Emo eh? Well, that's me - emo at unnecessary moments.

But that's life - my life. My life as an exhibitionist.

Today in the History of My Life

I confess. I have been battling with self-worth issues since I can remember. It's like battling cancer; the cancer cells keep coming back despite the therapies I go through. And it's spreading. And today - today the cancer cells attacked one of the major organs in my body. I feel weak, I feel blank. The hope that one of the recent therapies would at least halt the spread of the cancer cells have gone futile. As a matter of fact, the therapy back fires and damaged an organ instead.

I know I will still live through this damage. It's just that the damage marked the history of my life as one of life experiences' and mar the beautiful image life has been painting for me. I can't help feeling that I have lost hope on this battle. That I have no more strength to go through any more therapies. I know I am bullshitting myself left, right, front, back.

The blank feeling is dreadful.

When will this battle end? Can I end it? I wish I have the answer. For the moment, I am resorting to pretending that all these never happened - that the cancer cells did not attack my organ, that the therapy never actually existed.

For the moment I am praying that Permatang Pauh's by-election tomorrow brings good news. And I pray hard for DSAI and I pray hard for myself.

Bravo, Digi!

What was I thinking? I had this Digi number that was meant for Tisya to use at home. But then the phone went rosak. And I had been keeping the sim card for months not remembering when it expires. You know how it is with these prepaids. 90 days after expiry date and the number is terminated.

And guess when it expires? Today. To-D#%$-B@&ä$%-day! I had to pick today to check with Digi, when it could've been yesterday or two days ago or last week. But no, I picked today. And the number expires - today.

Worse case, there's about RM70 worth of credit in that number! What was I thinking?

Spoke to the Customer Care Consultant (or is that Maxis' term?) and the guy said he couldn't do anything. It's terminated, it's gone and bye-bye RM70. I said 'please' in the softest and politest tone that I've ever done. And I said it many times. Never have I been so polite to these kind of people. And I'm not the polite kind. Sepuluh kali I mintak, sepuluh kali he said 'No'. Then I did my US-customer-style, I requested to speak to his supervisor. Sepuluh kali I mintak, sepuluh kali jugak he said 'No' - again. OMG! I was almost screaming already. Maintain, maintain, I said to myself. It is after all, MY fault. :(

Then Nelson, the supposed supervisor came online. Mak datok, pronounciation berterabur! But proper grammar, nevertheless... So I gave it to him. Not more than 30 seconds talking he gave me this solution - go buy new number ASAP and he gets Digi to transfer my RM70! Hey, that's a deal!!! Apala susah sangat? Bet you on my last dime Maxis will not do the same! Trust me, I know!

Petronas Merdeka Adverts

Are they out yet? I haven't been watching the right channels to catch them if they are already aired. I so lurve the Merdeka ads; they have been something that I look forward to in a year, other than the Raya ads, the Deepavali ads and the CNY ads.

But I must say that this year's Merdeka celebration seems a little slow. It's 10 more days to go and I haven't seen much decoration to usher in the day. Not like previous years when I could see banners and lights and whatnots strung over roadlights and stuff, the moment the calendar turns the first day of August. Is it me? Am I not passing the right roads? Or maybe I am not watching the right channels? Maybe one of these nights I should take a slow drive through the city center and see if my claim warrants.

Anyway, back to the adverts. Yasmin Ahmad has done a very good job in addressing some issues that fits perfectly for our 50th year of independence. Despite rapidly turning into a modern country the past 50 years, we still have issues that we either close one eye to or we just can't seem to see. I always have some kind of heavy thug at my heart whenever I have these issues in mind. Why can't we change? Why can't we think like the supposedly 'modern' people we claim to be? Why can't we all stand as one? What ways can we start to make a better future? We, Malaysians, are actually far from being the 'modern' people we claim to be. We have become more liberal in thinking, more posh in living but we seemed to have pawned our values. We become more selfish, more possessive, more competitive even among our own. Why do we let ourselves do this to us? What will our kids become? Questions after questions after questions, but no answers. Sad...

The 2007 Merdeka advert I love so much...

What's 997?

A very close friend asked me this yesterday - what's the significance of 997? The answer: no direct significance. Other than it's Blue's registration number, it bears no meaning as to birthdates, anniversaries, deaths, new house move in dates, first date, first kiss... Oh, the list can go on an on but no, it bears no meaning.

But I can tell you why I stick to it.

I had a fight with my salesman in the course of getting Blue. I told him to get me a 3-digit number or get me a 4-digit out of a list I gave him. The next day, his despatch boy called to tell that all 3-digits were sold and went ahead to charge me RM500 for a 4-digit. I freaked out! And freaked out I did in my BFF's office. My BFF had to bear with all the screaming I was doing over the phones, with tears streaming down my face. When I was done, she had only one thing to say 'Na, ini la first time I nengok owang nak beli keter nangis-nangis! I tak penah jumpa owang cam you nih!' :D

I proceeded to get the registration number myself. With baby in hand, I queued up among car salesmen, saleswomen and despatch boys at the Setapak JPJ at 7 in the morning. My backup (my BFF and our office despatch) arrived an hour later. I used my baby as an armor for the ulats to give way for me to get to the counter. So bad, eh? A woman had to do what a woman had to do. At the counter, I told the lady to just give me any 3-digit number - I was game for anything. After 2 tries, she said 'sembilan sembilan tujuh?' and I smiled - 997 it was.

After I got Blue, I joined one particular forum for owners of Blue's kind. My nick was 997 - I was the human Blue talking and making acquaintances with other humans. When I went for tt's and lunches, the forum members fondly called me 997. It was some kind of belonging - Blue and me as one. Like a love story made in heaven! Ahak ahak! Lawak ah...

So there you go, how I got 997 and why I can't let go of it. I am 997 - and 997 is me. :D

Denial

Denial is something that I breathe. If you meet my other half, pull him aside for a private conversation and ask him what i've been denying these whole years and he'll give you a mighty long list. Take your pick; i'll deny most of his claims.

But the one thing i'm conciously denying is my age. I've no qualms telling strangers that I am a thirty-something, but I just can't accept the fact that I AM thirty-something. That's what I call concious denial - I conciously deny a certain fact that I profess. Now that when I look at it, where did my twenty-something years go? The whole 10 years of it? I mean, I can imagine not noticing a year passed by but 10? I must be having amnesia!

Just 2 nights ago I realized how much my eldest one has grown. All these while I see her in school uniform and I constantly have images of her stuttering to answer my interrogations ala CSI style.






















But that night she just changed to become a half girl-half woman. I, who denies being a thirty-something, who constantly wishes to be a twenty-something, who still goes ga-ga over boybands, who listens to pop, am now a mother to a teenager.






















Talk about being in denial.

Off We Go!

After having this in mind for many many and I mean MANY years, I finally got myself a blog. The reason for one? Tonnes. The main reason for one? Just for the fun of it! Ahaks...

So here goes me with my crap, do pardon the sometimes very strong yet ridiculuos thoughts and views - I am one who have very distorted perception of many things in life. And one who has very queer principles. I am here to share my joys, my sorrows, my sentiments and everything else that's not too private on my life and life as a whole.

So let's go, baby... Let's start the cruise!