dream

I had the nicest dream last night. I was out at the beach with friends, and there was a mini-tsunami. Don't punch me yet! Like I said, it was a mini-tsunami. But for precaution, my friends and I half-swam half-climbed up the highest coral reef in that part of ocean. The water was waist deep at our position. Then I saw something black glinted beside me.

Dolphin!

I love dolphins. Hence the tattoo on my left leg. I got so excited and kept reaching out to touch the dolphin. It swam away just out of reach, but not before doing a graceful sommersault, its skin reflecting the nice evening sun. I dove under the water, trying to look for more. There are! Two swam up to me and I stroked their bellies and backs. I saw a lot of big fishes too. The mini-tsunami stirred the big fishes up from the deepest parts of the ocean. One swam particularly close to me. It had a sad face. I wondered, how could a fish have a sad face? Do they have happy faces?

I woke up feeling exceptionally chirpy. What a good start to a good day ahead! Then I remembered. The dolphins I stroked are black and white in colour. I thought dolphins are grey?!

Shit. I think I stroked killer whales.

bangsar

Was bumming around in Bangsar waiting to get hungry. Oh yeah I do that. The nasi lemak beside the police station tastes quite good. And, to kill time (hasten digestion?), I went for a massage. I was hoping to enjoy my second experience because my first (in an island resort by a scrawny grandmother) totally sucked. Like how things usually go wrong the more you wished that they don't, this massage (pah!) session was no exception. I mean, the toady plump girl (oh why couldn't I get them hunky illegal immigrant masseurs?) burned more kinetic energy with her mouth than her hands! And I was being too nice to ask her to shut her yap. I just concentrated HARD on the ambience of flowing water and twittering birds.

My friend had to drag my oily and bruised body (thrown in with a headache by then) and walk around Telawi to make me get hungry faster. We were in this boutique selling Sg Wang type of clothings when I had quite a shock. A nearby row of flowery dresses rustled. Without anyone touching them.

Damn girl massaged my scalp too hard, I thought to myself. Brain must have short-circuited.

Then it happened again. Rustle rustle.

A cat? In Bangsar?

Then the thing came out into the open. And I screamed.

upset

I'm very upset. My housemates don't want to move their lazy asses to tidy up the house, and they don't want to chip in for a cleaning lady to come clean up the house. We've moved into this new place for 5 months, and we've (as in myself and my brother) only cleaned it once. Fuck. I don't want the place to turn into some seedy college student house. I've spent 8 years of my studying life in one, and enough is enough. I just want a decent home. A place that I won't feel embarassed bringing guests back.

Litter is piling up. Pleas and urges for the other 4 people that share the house to buck up are all futile attempts. I can finger paint in the dust on my stairway.

I want to kick them out. Or move out. But I cannot afford the rental of one whole house. And it's not time yet to move in with Boyfriend (although at times like this I wish it is). I don't know if it's because all the other housemates are his friends, or my brother is just born with too kind a heart. He volunteered to clean up the house. Under normal circumstances, I'd shush him and urge him not to be stupid, doing the job himself when everyone else is supposed to help out. And we'll end up doing everything, just both of us. Right now, however, I couldn't give a fuck. Why is he always standing on his friends' side? If he love to clean, he is most welcome to go ahead and do it.

What the fuck is the problem with coughing up 16 bucks for a nice, clean home? Just eat less Pizza Hut, buggers! I really don't know how long can I stand staying with these ignorant people. Alas, right now, the need for their money is more than the need to shift out.

Sigh.

daniel?

Daniel won. Just like the prediction of the online poll. Besides the bloody glaring mistake in the official website ("And You Idol Is... Daniel!"), I've made several interesting fact finds from the whole MI journey.

(1) Nita sings better, but Daniel the Jerk Head - just watch him sing, folks. He has this unique movement of jerking his head (I don't know what else to call that) speaks like a diplomatic politician. Smart move to capture the hearts of swoony young girls.

(2) Daniel has better skin than most girls/women and he smells yummy. Nevermind he's my height.

(3) Penang Chinese are a filthy rich lot. This girl told my friend she spent 500 bucks voting for Daniel. Uh huh.

(4) The Chinese community in Malaysia is damn (rich) powerful (note: this is a mere personal observation so please don't throw me into jail for this dear authorities), seeing how it's obvious that Nita sings and conquers the stage better but still she got shitty votes because many audiences out there voted for Daniel just because he's Chinese...

(5) KC made me promise to sign up for the next season.

Aaaah. Let me go drown my sorrow by stuffing my face with oysters at Shangri-La. I hope they have strawberry chocolate fondue at the Japanese restaurant. *slobber*

malaysian idol finale

Just had the best banana leaf rice in town (in my opinion) at Sri Paandi. Anyone who's had better please do let me know where. I love them fattening, eat-all-you-can exotic chow.

My client just called and said she has extra Malaysian Idol tickets for Results Night (tonight!). Whoa. Am gonna take a quick shower and fly up to Genting. Crazy, I know... but. We were watching Nita and Daniel sing on telly last night and the feel just wasn't there. Must. Get. A. Piece. Of. The. Live. Action.

I'm voting for Nita. All my Chinese friends are voting for Daniel. Just because he's Chinese as well. And I'm so gonna get skinned alive for my traitor votes. But I think the key word here is damn good singing, right? So glue your face to the telly tonight, dudes and dudettes. You might just catch a glimpse of me. Tee hee. Anyone who wants immediate results notification please text me. If you don't know my number means the service is not available in your area. Sorry.

stoppit!

Oh fuck a duck!

My neighbour's at it again! Having discovered the joys of karaoke just last week, this next-door (oh fuck it why couldn't it be next street?) neighbour of mine bought a home set and totally wrecked the harmonious and tranquil equilibrium of this cosy little neighbourhood. With his obnoxious tone deaf voice. Nevermind - he's brave. With his song selection of remixed hokkien oldies . Nevermind - he's old and maybe he had a tough life and now only can enjoy. With my room walls trembling and door jiggling with the pirated karaoke VCD's volume cranked up to the max. CANNOT NEVERMIND!

What the fuck! Old farts can just ignore the unspoken rules of courtesy is it?! My other neighbours, when house got people die, the chanting also go on until 11.45pm maximum only. THAT is called considerate. Another neighbour, last weekend her daughter got married, the bleating car horns and whole noisy parade started at 10am. THAT is called showing neighbourliness. This one, every fucking day starts his session at 7.30am, until now 9.23pm I'm nursing a bad headache wanna come home for a short nap before going in again for an all-nighter... until sometimes I come home at 11pm still singing (singing? pah!) away.

Dear God. I am truly truly sorry for cursing and scolding my colleague under my breath when she turns on her music very loud while another colleague is already playing the radio. I forgive her for not knowing the existence of headphones. I promise not to sulk in the future when this incident occurs. I will just go into Big Boss's room to do my thinking and conceptualising. Please zap this profane old fart and his equally obnoxious family (yaya you all don't know some of your neighbours have only Saturday mornings to sleep 2 hours more? and some families have kids that need to study/practise piano/play with pets?) to Timbuktu or somewhere else that doesn't have electricity.

I am so mad. But the Malaysian in me is still fighting with the Western me from watching movies. Like how to react in predicaments such as this one. And I've shortlisted the options to 3:

Western style
Bang on the neighbour's door and ask the fart to shut his yap or I'll puncture his car tyres.
Singaporean (is it?) style
Call the authorities (who? can someone gimme a number?) using an anonymous name.
Malaysian style

Complain to the security guards and other neighbours or their maids. Ask the other neighbours to ask the Neighbourhood Committee to talk to the fart. And continue to whine in my blog while hoping all this will end soon.

jaws 5

I must be out of my mind. I think it's the influence of an overdose of National Geographic (Born to Kill: Great White Sharks) and Starship Troopers (Casper van Dien) over the weekend - I rented Jaws 5 DVD last night.

What was I thinking?
*thwack thwack* (slaps forehead with a plastic ruler)

I wasn't hoping for Steven Spielberg, but neither was I prepared for the B-grade-ness of the entire scam. The movie looked like it was shot back in the 70's in Brazil or something. NEW on DVD shelves my ass. Cellphones so clunky you can throw at a shark and kill it. High-waist pants and loose-fitting orange satin shirt. *groan* The only consolation was the sharks didn't have a zipper on their stomaches and "made in China" tiny tags on their fins.

To think that I even cajoled KC into watching with me.

"How come this sequel doesn't have interesting shark attacks one..."
"Aah shuddup, it's coming it's coming."

"Wow, those good guys sure know how to dodge bullets and the boats chasing them..."
Grunt.

"You see! I know they sure will end up..."
Snore.
"... together one... HEY!"

I got scolded like crazy. For wasting my hard earned money on the stupid DVD. For forcing KC to watch with me. And for falling asleep while it tried so hard to be involved in the (lame) storyline.

him him him

He doesn't make a lot of noise. Maybe because he's new. But compared to the fresh-from-the-oven bubbly designer we have since last week, this new guy practically doesn't speak at all.

So cold, I was thinking to myself. Oh well. As long as his job gets done on time.

He is oh-so cute! I was practically gushing with joy (and saliva) when I came into office and "discovered" his presence. Took all the willpower I had to not run my hands all over his manly built *shudder in ecstasy* and plunge my wanton fingers into his... uh... insides.

Seriously, there's nothing better than a pick-me-up at work in the form of a handsome colleague. And I've been waiting for his arrival since I started here a year ago. Imagine my thirst and hunger! Rawr!

I don't care if Boss complains I make such slutty poses in front of the new guy.
I don't care if my other colleagues stare incredulously at my wantonness.
I don't care if I scare him with my straighforwardness and he quits next month.

It's been a while since I actually look forward to come to work.

Everyone say hi to my new colleague.

home sweet home

My brother and I saw
(1) a row of 6 monkeys snarfing bananas
(2) a 6ft giant lizard (komodo dragon?)
(3) an agitated cobra in attack mode

on the journey to our parents' and back. No, we don't have to cut across the National Park to go home. But the bumpy roads, overgrown bushes and lack of other traffic does make one feel that way. Too bad we were going too fast to take pictures.

Watched Starship Troopers for the gazillionth time. I don't know why but I love that show! I know, I know, the acting is cheesy like crap and the whole storyline sucks. Must be those bloody flying limbs and decapitated bodies and whachamacallit gory shit. I love those in muh movies.

But of course, I love random crap like this one too: Pop Star or Porn Star?

the mist

Gaaaaah!
The haze is baaaaaack!

Nah. Actually we're at the highest point of Cameron Highland. And we snuck into a communications tower and climbed up that. Then we're at the highest highest point.

And that was how I suddenly recalled Stephen King's short story - The Mist. And I scrambled down very, very quickly.

watercress valley

My first time looking at live watercress. And this huge watercress fan. Fear Factor will have so much fun with this little bugger. I saw tadpoles and moss and dirt in the shallow waters too.

Then HunHun (not to be mistaken for Attila) accidentally ended the fat watercress worm's fantasy of soaking in watercress-flavoured baths and chasing them cute little tadpoles around.

"Look, Jack! I'm flying!"

boh food, boo food

Remember when I told you guys about the evilness of the food in Boh Plantation?

Believe it. It was so bad someone had to take an emergency dunk at the roadside.

Aaah. The joy of traveling with kids. And their ability to pee every 10 minutes.

random crap

Last night I worked until 2 a.m. More like I worked some, watched "The Maid", and read an interesting girl's blog until 2 a.m. Such an exciting life she leads! Half an hour into her archives my eyes developed a glazed look and my scrolling and clicking on the archive calendar became mechanical (maniacal?).

"Oi. Go help do the visual mock-up." Boss sees.
Grunt.
"Oi."
Grunt.

I stoned for another 45 minutes.
Then went home. And stoned for another 45 reading Michael Crichton's Timeline.

Nowadays I can do with just 3 hours of sleep. Waking up in the morning is hellish (and beyond!) but after I drench myself in buckets of cold water... I can function as normal (minus the sleepy after-lunch-30-minutes). A small part of me wish I sleep for an average of 3 hours a night because I party too hard. But.

Is partying beyond me? What's the retiring age?
I don't think I've ever had a partying era. And now it's probably too late.
Dang.

boh plantation

I'm back. Very unwillingly.

The undulating landscape of the tea plantation and the rolling clouds chasing each other across the vast blue sky. Lazy afternoon of nothing-to-do-ness sipping yummylicious pulled-tea (!!) and fluffy curry puffs.

I wish.

Rectification: Rowdy morning with sulking children and swarms of Middle East tourists asking me to take their pictures. Just because I took some scenery pictures within their perimeter. Hmm. But then I do have magic picture-taking hidden talents, I realized. Everything I took turned out nicer than the real deal. Hire me now and save up on Photoshop costs!

The food sucked.
Tasteless scones.
Over-sweet mini pies.
Unspicy curry puffs.
Rock hard chocolate mousse cake.

Expensive waste of tastebud and saliva enzyme chemical activity.

heated heatiness

"Any issue worth debating is worth avoiding altogether."

This is one saying Boss and I should really imprint into our daily interaction. Like how almost everything in life is easier to get into than to get out of, we got into a big one today. Again.

My bad: Being over-protective over my work.
Boss's bad: Being over-critical without providing any effective solutions.

So, I burst into (flames) tears and Boss was pissed why I got so worked up. I told her I couldn't be Superwoman like her. Yes, she's upped my salary slightly but I still couldn't (wouldn't) be a Strategy Planner Creative Director Art Director Copywriter Client Servicing Executive Graphic Designer. Stressed out of my mind as it is! Nevermind that my namecard would be kickassy with the absurb job title. Nevermind the fact that I'll be drawing everyone's pay.

Management has been feeding me with "you have so much talent and ability" inspirational talks. A part of me feels good (of course!) to be appreciated that way, but... ability is like a cheque. It has no value unless it is cashed. And right now I don't feel like a Pound Sterling cheque. And yes, ability is a good thing. But stability is better. My mental state, that is.

Illegitimus non Carborundem!