accomplishment

It's proven. I am a superbeing. In half a day, I've written and rewritten (comments by Small Boss in brackets):
2 catalogues ("I want a lifestyle one, and another edgier one")
2 invitation card/letter ("give me something the client can't say no to, and the other one you can play with your creativity and wittiness to the max")
1 press ad ("just give me something by today")
2 personal super-long emails ("HOI what do you think you're doing")
...and I thought coming up with 2 informercial scripts yesterday was bad enough.

It's a wonder how food gives me such motivation. The idea of having lunch with my favourite client (dang I hope we're going for Chilli's) tomorrow totally stirs my creative juices. Must finish everything tonight, by hook or by crook, so I can go out tomorrow. Free food! Glorious food! Angels we have heard on high...

My ability to keep writing when I don't even know what I'm writing about never cease to amaze me.

Oh bollocks. I believe my Servicing colleague is printing out a new brief for me. Now. At 8.54pm. Gaaaaah. Is it even legal to brief the creative team at this hour for something to be presented tomorrow morning?

cameron

Cameron Highland looking ethereal right before it rained on Saturday. I willed myself to imagine that I was in a Swiss mountainside ancient-castle-turned-hotel looking out while waiting for the steamboat soup to boil.

It was a short stay so there wasn't much happening. We were there for less than 24 hours. All I did was take picture after picture of people and sceneries. I'm convinced that I have a sharp eye for killer angles. Just need some practice to solve my shaky-hands problem.

My Boh Tea Plantation angle nice or not?

melaka - food

What is a Melaka trip without savouring its mouthwatering chow? I made a point to shoot my food prior to digging in, but at times it proved too trying. Asking me to look at steaming hot food but not touching is torture. Even if it's 30 seconds to snap a shot. I'm all for instant gratification.

Trying to follow the makan trail left by the people behind Foodsters Guide, my first stop was chicken rice ball in Chung Wah. I'm not proud to announce that although I've been to Melaka many times, I've never tried their chicken rice ball. The secret of the rice ball is not important to me. I don't care how they roll the rice into balls and why they don't come apart. Their. Chicken. Very. Very. VERY. Heavenly. My mouth still waters whenever I think of the tender, succulent chicken. *swoon*

Went for a stroll along Jonker Walk after lunch craving for something cold to offset the humidity - and I found this place with a decent throng of customers. 88 Jonker Dessert. Their cendol is quite different, with thick gula melaka sticking to the spoon, bowl and my teeth. Didn't quite like how the sugar sticks to the bottom of the bowl, making the final few mouthfuls too sweet for my liking.

My first time eating satay celup. Chose to patron Capitol because it's the oldest place with more variety (said a Jonker Walk shopkeeper). Coupled with the praises sung by my guidebook, what could go wrong? What could go wrong indeed. I didn't like the experience one bit. Gravy to dip my satay tasted like... nothing. Just some thick goo with no taste. I expected slightly peanut-ish flavour, but alas, even the diced cucumber tasted like classroom blackboard. The yummiest item in the shop was the Coke I ordered.

Since I had only about 6 sticks of satay celup earlier, it's time for some real food. And we headed towards Jalan Bunga Raya for the recommended-by-guidebook "oh-jien" (oyster fried egg). It was a long wait, but I was glad to have at least half an hour for my protesting stomache to calm down. This is probably the best oyster fried egg I've eaten for a looooong time. I was told that this place sells the best char-siew (roast marinated pork) in town during the day. I'm jotting this down as a must-try for my next trip, together with the Sun May Hiong pork satay. Have to bring a pork-lover along as well because the boyfriend doesn't fancy pork. Interested parties please leave me a message.

Hotel breakfast was just enough for a 5-year old (which is a good thing actually) so I went for more food right after. My guidebook says the best cendol in Melaka is here in Min Chong. Like the good girl I am, I ordered exactly what the book advised. The veggie rojak was delectable, just the right portion of everything with just the right level of spiciness. Same goes for the cendol. The gula melaka wasn't as thick as the one in Jonker Walk with generous dollops of coconut milk. Yummylicious to the last drop. This shop is a tad "historical" (translation: run-down) and easy to miss if you're concentrating on the traffic instead of names of shops. I think it fits only about 10 people at one go so make sure to time your visit correctly or you'll be standing under the sun!

The second last meal before I left Melaka! I was forced by Eryn to try the pizza in Coconut House. "It's right opposite your hotel so you must go!" Although the food's a bit pricey, they have the best freshly-squeezed pineapple juice on the planet! The pizza was alright, cooked using authentic woodfire and bla bla. I think we can find the same quality here in KL anyways. Because of the irritating mosquitoes (and the price of food), I rushed through a small pizza and then headed straight to Chung Wah for chicken rice balls again.

I'm not stepping on the weighing scale until next month (and few sessions of morning jogs).

rain rain go away

It's pouring like a mother outside. I went to the back of the office for coffee and a piss with my arms protecting my head. The wind howled as the toilet cubicle door shook and moaned. The damp curtains damn near got stuck to the ceiling with them blown to a freaky 90 degrees. Dammit, the end of days must be near. How else can you explain such sci-fi twilight zone-ish phenomenon happening outside the telly? I eyed the toilet door opening and slamming shut in the wind warily. One-eye waist-high beings in silver spacesuit might just emerge. That or my big boss and our ex-art director (contributing to banging and shaking the toilet walls).

I've reinstalled The Sims and the whole expansion ching-bang into my home computer. And for the next few weeks, I won't need books, DVDs, friends, (work), or a boyfriend. Muahahaha. But I promise I'll put up the great food pictures from Melaka. Soon.

melaka - lodging

The heart of Melaka - where gastronomical orgies are performed. My two-day trip was all about food. Chinese, mamak, Portugese, Italian... but let's not go there first, lest I cannot restrain myself from driving 2 hours there on impulse for another cendol.

We stayed at Baba House, just a street beside Jonker Walk. They're running a promotion and I got a Deluxe room at just RM89 (with crummy breakfast, but still...)! Hotel Puri with a similar heritage-y setting right opposite Baba House is charging twice the rate. My gain! I'm definitely staying here again the next time I'm in Melaka.

Okay, the room was a bit musty but I liked it just the same. The whiff of room smell I got when I first opened the door reminded me of my gramma's house during our Chinese New Year gathering. It smelled like... a lot of history. But it wasn't dirty or anything. Some said the place is cheap because it's ridden with ghosts. I say bullshit. Value stay is value stay. But you don't-lah expect 5-star amenities. Air-conditioning, telly, hot shower, soft pillow... I got all I needed.

Baba House is huge with spacious corridors, nicely decorated balconies and quaint reading/afternoon-tea lazing area. Located smack in Jonker Walk area, I thought sleep would be tough at night, but this place is an unexpectedly quiet (minus the rowdy children running along corridors and banging on their relatives' doors) oasis.

No, I didn't imagine the children.

rexona

I got myself a new Rexona at the pharmacy last night and I absolutely love the smell. I guess nice smell isn't the best word to describe a deodorant, but it really smells different from my usual. I can't stop sniffing at my armpits.

Before you roll your eyes in disgust and foam at the mouth, I don't do it blatantly okay! I have tact and finesse.

This morning, I've been reaching for a lot of books on the high shelves. Muahahaha.

have a break, have a kit kat

Bummer. I'm at a bottleneck here. How do I sell aloe vera juice without saying I'm selling aloe vera juice? These kinda ads are especially challenging because of the restraints I've to keep in mind. Cannot make claims. Cannot use over-promising words. The ad's in black and white. Pah. So hard! My brain simple refuse to accept any information except "It's Friday!" and "I'm off to Melaka for chicken rice balls and satay celup tomorrow!". I totally deserve to have a break (insert Kit Kat lame jokes here). The invisible tension in the office is so heavy and heated I could carve an alphabet chart for kids with a butter knife. Being stuck in the middle of two feuding and scheming superiors is no fun.

A few nights ago I had a nightmare where I was stealing the office's pens from our administrative clerk's drawer and caught red-handed. What the hell? PENS?! I think I'm halfway to stress-dom. Why only halfway? Because real stress is when you wake up screaming and then realise you haven't fallen asleep yet. Oh yeah I'm close.

On a lighter note, I'm supposed to let my brother's car engine run a bit while he runs to Sweden (land of Ikea and meatballs?) and I found The Foodsters' Guide in the backseat. Apparently he managed to nab a free copy from one of the contributor (my little brother with non-existent social life has contacts!) or something. This book is definitely following me to Melaka. Too bad it doesn't come with a comprehensive street map on how to get to those yummylicious places.

On the road again...
Just can't wait to get on the road again...
The life I love is makin' music with my friends...
And I can't wait to get on the road again!

rip off?

I just bumped into Jill the Ripper. And I don't know how to react. Yet.

What to do when you discover someone ripping ideas off your blog? Take a few lines here and there, add in a word or two... and claim it as yours? I don't mind much if it's just the "idea" but when I see my own sentences in someone else's blog... it's a strange sensation. A bit excited to see that someone actually reads my crap and hold it important enough to kickstart a blog entry of his/her own. I mean, all the time I just ramble and whine. But at the same time I feel a wee bit irritated. Am I being plain possessive and jealous? Is this intellectual property?

I don't know how to feel about this, really.
Right now I feel as though someone punched the air out of my lungs.

*still in shock*

all the small things

I was queuing up at the traffic light on my way to work and saw a lanky man approaching the cars ahead, standing beside the driver's window and holding up a piece of small sign. Pah, another bummer too lazy to get a proper job, I sniffed in disdain. All the drivers ahead ignored him as he got closer and closer to my car. How did they dismiss him - Wave a hand while mouthing "no"? Stare straight ahead and ignore the man? How should I dismiss him? Smile apologetically while shaking my head? Will this hurt his feelings less?

As he got closer, I saw that he walked with a slight limp. He looked harmless. Should I roll down my window to give him some cash? The sun is so hot and he's alone and... Then he stood right outside my window. I saw some Arabic writing on his piece of paper. I don't know if it's reflex or media's education, because I suddenly busied myself with my cellphone and waved him off impatiently.

I watched him through my rearview mirror. Still limping, still smiling, approaching car after car behind mine. I felt like shit. I didn't feel any satisfaction by doing my part in not encouraging the begging phenomena in the country. My afterthought brought in another possibility: The man could be dangerous and armed beneath his robes, and if I rolled down the window, he would take out a knife and stab me and take the car. But we're at a traffic light. Unmoving. With cars in front and behind.

Sigh. Am I being too sentimental? Do other people even think twice and feel bad for ignoring beggars on the street? I always get this pang of guilt whenever I ignore the forlorn woman holding a child and the dirty man sitting in the middle of a pasar malam, but I feel angry when I see tourists dropping coins and bills into their cups.

What's the right thing to do?

the iron

I was watching Big Wing (with my favourite Japanese actor) for the gazillionth time on my computer when I came back from work. Suddenly I heard a familiar ticking noise in the room that I couldn't quite place at that particular hour and mood.

Then it registered.

No way! I thought to myself incredulously. It couldn't be the iron.

My fear peaked into a sudden rush of anger as I turned towards the switch on the wall. True enough, the iron and hairdryer's red light indicator is on.

Oh. My. &*()$$@$^%*&&$%.

The iron has been left on like this for 12 hours, since before we left for work.

There could be a fire! All my important documents could've been burnt! My sleeping housemate could've died! The electricity bill is gonna bomb!

I hate it when KC forgets little details like this. Socks all over the floor, keys and glasses on the ironing board, damp bath towel on the bed... anything that messes with my order pisses me off big time. And right on top of the "1o things that piss me off" list is forgetting to switch off anything that you switched on. Not so much when it comes to lights and fan, but definitely a no-no when it's the iron or air-conditioning. To be fair, I'm not a super systematic and organised person. I do forget where I leave my wallet/keys/glasses/ring in the room sometimes. But to let that happen on a daily basis and then whining for me to find the mislocated items is very irritating.

Is switching off the iron right after using it too big a task?
Are all men insensitive and retarded in that department?

Am I being too demanding?

I proceeded to switch off the iron pronto. Blue fire zapped from the plug. I quickly withdrew my finger. I want to add another lament to my earlier paranoia.

I could've been electrocuted and die a gruesome death.

art director

I think I may have found my ideal partner. She is gentle, humble and laughs like she means it. She doesn't just hear my suggestions but listen attentively to find useful sparks of ideas. She exudes an aura of simple stylishness even when she wears a crummy Abercrombie white tee with jeans. She carries herself in quiet confidence, never authoritative, never flaunting her knowledge and experience.

She thinks faster than I do most of the time, which is a long-awaited first.
She is full of delightful ideas and solutions that I often wish I thought of first.

Finally. FINALLY!!!

I love our new Art Director. I'm gonna learn as much as I can from her and bring myself to another plateau of creative brilliance.

pissiness

This weekend is a weekend of pissiness. I'm pissed off by mostly everything and everyone.

I'm pissed off by how my period quit on me after 2 drips of output but the full onslaught of enormous smack-in-the-centre-of-my-face zits and painful tits came rushing anyways.

How not to be pissed when a normal 3-minute drive to the traffic lights took me 30 minutes? Why is it congested when I'm rushing off to meet someone and free-flowing when I've nothing to do and can take all the time I want in the world to reach home?

I'm pissed off by the "oh initially we wanted to have a friends' gathering but everyone couldn't make it except my ex... so we met up anyways" whole crock of bullshit incident. If you know that I'm gonna be touchy and pissy about the session, just cancel it! What's so difficult?

I'm pissed off with how my little brother is all grown up and dating now (without due warning that I'll not be getting his full attention anymore!) and flying off to Sweden tonight for work. I've been dying for a job that flies me to different countries every month since young and I'm pissily jealous. I'm pissed that even though we quarrel most days and don't speak much to each other on other days, I know I'll miss him like hell these 2 weeks.

on fire

It took me a while to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but my brain was still in third gear. There were a lot of dreams. About my dead gramma. About a tall robot (its thighs were at cloud level) who stomps on homes and captures residents. I was in the toilet when the community alarm went off. I peeked through the door and saw the robot's feet at a distance. I switched off the lights. And crouched lower when I saw it heading towards my direction. But it's never come close to this area before, I thought. The next thing I know, the walls around me crashed and crumbled, and I was shivering in the middle like a peeled banana. The robot picked me up with his fingers and strode to another direction. Would there be more like this one? Is there a robot community just like ours somewhere? My brain was screaming out questions even though I was scared shitless. Suddenly, my throat caught fire.

I sat up in a jerk. Wiped saliva off my face and swallowed. And my eyes bugged. My throat was really on fire. Hurt like a bitch, it did. My head was pounding. Wha...? Why is this happening all of a sudden? I was perfectly fine when I went to sleep. Okay, maybe my gums were slightly inflamed, but that could be fixed if I drink more water. No biggie.

I was practically voiceless when I went into the doctor's room. He said he hasn't seen any inflammation as bad as this for months. Yea it's gotta be bad, my saliva feels like lava swooshing around and I saw how chilli-red my throat was. What super breed of virus could do this in a few hours? Sigh.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you'll be in pain for 2 more days. There's no point for me to prescribe antibiotics for you now, they won't work. I'm gonna give you painkillers, alright?"

Fuck.

chicken game

Was browsing through the net for supergengchow names for my client's chicken wings and drumsticks when I came across this. Just find it too cute to be true. Next time I know what to do when the bosses are not in! Muahahahaha.

Been wanting to post pictures from my Singapore gathering with the Sistahs but my monitor at home went kaput after I downloaded the pictures into the computer. Bummer. Now I can't do anything until Samsung sends me a new one or I go buy one myself. Or maybe, just maybe... I could persuade brother to carry his from downstairs to my room...

My weekend was great! Although I spent not more than 24 hours with Ange, E/E and LCL, we had really some quality time. Been ages since I've laughed that hard. I hate to think we're all grown up now, and soon we'll be doing crappy grown up stuff like get married, have kids, talk about nothing else but what diaper brands are good etc.

I miss high school years.

valentine's day

I came to work this morning to this. And promptly forgave KC for not being able to be with me. Balloons work for me. All the time.

To those who didn't get balloons: Happy unimaginative, consumerist-oriented and entirely arbitrary, manipulative and shallow interpretation of romance day.

the descent

The Descent is an awesome movie. A lot of firsts for me. Very likely the only British movie that I enjoyed whole-heartedly. First of all, 100% of the main cast are female. I've never seen any movie that didn't have men (the husband that appeared for less than 5 minutes in the beginning didn't count). Secondly, there wasn't any holding back in the gore and scare department. I was pleasantly surprised at how many gruesome scenes actually escaped the censorship board. Maybe there was too much and they didn't know where to start censoring without killing the whole movie. Muahahaha. My gain. Thirdly, it was my first outing with 10+ non-straight guys. I was totally enthralled by their drama-queen expressions, explicit sexual comments, openness to hugging and touching... etc. We drew a lot of attention, especially when 2 of the guys screamed louder than the actresses at certain scenes. Truly enlightening experience. Social suicide? I'm not making a conclusion yet. They're loud, bitchy and over-sensitive... but totally honest. And I can't walk hand-in-hand with "normal" guys without worrying about intention.

But I really need some adjusting to comments like "Did you see how huge her boobs look when she was jogging in that skintight thing? It's soft and bouncy and... totally gross!"

Haha.

helium

Valentine's Day suck balls.

Restaurants come up with fancy named super marked-up menus, nevermind, we all know already. Florists come up with fancy named super marked-up bouquets, hoho, flowers are necessities, can accept. But I conclude that V-Day suck balls because I was asking a balloon/bouquet store the price for filling up my balloons with helium for someone's graduation tomorrow, and guess how much the bitch quoted? THREE bucks each. Like hell I'm gonna pay THREE bucks for air. I am supplying the balloons. I even have the shiny twirly loops to hold the balloons together. And all of those cost less than the helium. Fuck, they're selling helium balloons twisted into the shape of your choice at two bucks in pasar malams.

I was so angry.

Then I proceeded to clean up my room and toilet and bath. And saw my present tucked into a corner which I don't even breathe in the entire year. Hoho. My surprise V-Day pressie. Blame it on the damn helium, blame it on its laziness to keep it at home... but KC's cover is so blown.

It's a Seiko watch. I think. I hope. From the silver box with Seiko printed up front.

Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all. Hahahahahaha.

movie quiz

And I thought I watch a lot of movies. I'm quite disappointed, really, with my score. I only managed to figure 12 out of 30 (some are wild guesses). Don't I just hate to lose. Please let me know the movie titles here if you ever manage to crack all of them.

animal friends

Animal friends in Gramma's house include a lot of chicken who're happily munching on leftover veggies from our steamboat session. There used to be ducks, geese and turkeys sharing the quarters too. And have I mentioned rabbits, guinae pigs and hamsters? Yea, Gramma and I used to walk to deserted fields to pluck wild plants for them to eat. It's their favourite, Gramma said. So I kept quiet about the leeches between my toes.

This is the chief house pet with no name. She responds to anything when she's hungry and nothing when she's feeling sulky. Very tame. Always begging for food.

This tabby doesn't reside at Gramma's. She visits when she sees fit. Caused chaos when she decided to frolick around at 3a.m. when we're staying up to guard Gramma's coffin. Three voices gasped in unison when she ran under the coffin. Good thing she's not black or all the sci-fi stories we read would have us fleeing from an imaginary zombie.

Another semi-permanent visitor. I was happily scratching her neck when my cousin exclaimed in surprise that she didn't bite me. Must be the maternal magic touch I got.

gramma

It seems like a good day to leave. The sky the bluest of blue with no hint of rain clouds. The warm breeze sleepy and muted from nights of fireworks, rich food and merry making. The help gently removes the drip and oxygen mask.

You're home, says someone.
She smiles and nods.

She's really quite something. Never one to ask for help if she can manage. And manage well she did. Six children with offspring of their own, a grocery store and uncountable house pets. Illiterate she was, but she can speak Malay and a few dialects in Chinese fluently. After knowing the Lord, she surprises her grandchildren by learning to read the lyrics to her favourite worship songs - at the age of 80.

Her breathing slowly becomes laboured. Although the doctors say she will not be in pain, that her high toxic level will sedate her, it is still painful to see her fighting to be with us longer.

She cooks wonderfully. Never will I taste such beautiful soup. The strength that she demonstrates, the passion that she infuses into whatever she does will be my balm in difficult times. Shifting furniture and grocery goods to a new home 40 minutes away with just a pushcart and a few bicycles, helping to build a grocery shop and a home from scratch - if she can do all these, nothing should bring me down. Some of the determination must have been passed on to the grand-daughter.

The laboured huffs gradually become silent, then still.

I'm sorry I hadn't spent more time with you when I could, Gramma. There are still so many things I want to ask, like what did Grampa and yourself call each other, how was it like being in this new place without knowing anyone or the language when you first moved in and so on. But I'm glad I held your hand at the ward. I know you're the proper, shy type that don't hug or caress to show your love. Thank you for not pulling away. Thank you for squeezing my hand and smiling back at me, although I would prefer you to not shyly pull away when the other cousins came back. I should have done this a long time ago, then maybe I would have the courage to hug you and kiss you and tell you how much you mean to me.

The time for grieving and missing Gramma will come to pass.
Then it is time for rejoicing in her unity with the Lord and husband and other loved ones.
After all, our ending... is God's beginning.