I have gained a new perspective on marriage. Apparently it’s not just about love and sex. Well, it is about love and sex but there are other big issues to consider. One of which is children. This topic first came about when my brother and I had a dine-in with an uncle at Kenny Roger’s at Mid Valley who came all the way from Kota Bharu to attend a meeting. He said, “Nikoh awa skik. Toksoh tunggu pah 30. Siye anok (Kahwin awal skit. Jangan tunggu selepas 30. Kesian anak,”. Translation – get married early. Don’t wait til your 30. Pity the children.
Or more specifically, don’t follow his footsteps. He got married in his early 30’s and his eldest is only entering his third-year at the university. And he has about 5 more little brothers and sisters behind him. Considering my uncle is entering his 50’s and retirement is staring right in his face, that could prove to be a financial burden later on, among the least.
Yesterday, my aunt Melor also had something interesting to say. “When your child hits 10-years-old, you have to decide how old you want to be,”
And his husband jokingly added, “You also have to give the chance to your mother to be ‘young’ enough to become a grandmother. Easier for you to have someone taking care of the children should you be away or something,”
That being said, getting married at 40 and having your eldest aged 10 when your 50, is not at all a clever thing to do.
All this while, when a friend had set a deadline of getting married, no matter what, by the time he reaches 28, had me puzzled. Some even set a timeline of getting a husband in 3 years time, which means finding a suitor and getting engaged during that timeframe. That had me baffled. I mean, what’s the rush? I didn’t get it. Now, I do. That one word – children. That’s the rush.
Marriage is not just about being in love and getting laid. Children has to be a very big concern as well. Unless you don’t want children but who wouldn’t? Basically, we’re just mammals. It’s our instinct to reproduce. Or at least having fun trying.
So it seems that getting married before you reach 30 is the viable thing to do. Unless I want some future regrets, that is the huge master plan. Find a wife, get married, have children. Ain’t that just grand?
Monday, September 26, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Do-Hickey
I wish one day when a girl asks me, "What's that on your neck?", I could answer by saying, "I bit myself shaving"
And when she says, "That's why God invented turtlenecks," and I would say, "No, that's why God invented Charlene (or whatever girl's name that can be mentioned)"
Unfortunately, this thing on my chin is a real cut. And I have a blood-spotted tissue to go along with it.
And when she says, "That's why God invented turtlenecks," and I would say, "No, that's why God invented Charlene (or whatever girl's name that can be mentioned)"
Unfortunately, this thing on my chin is a real cut. And I have a blood-spotted tissue to go along with it.
The Breakfast Show
Answering a phone call that rudely awakens you in the morning is probably one of the most annoying things that can happen that one could think of. But if the person one the other line is a fine looking woman then it changes the whole story. Suddenly that call becomes the most welcoming. The fact that she too was in bed making that call makes it kinda sexy. Especially with both of us having that scruffy morning voice when we were wishing our ‘hello’s and ‘good morning’s. I usually get those kind of calls from my mother every time I find myself waking up someplace else other than my home. Be it Bangi, Ampang or even Tomok’s house near Sri Gombak.
Well, it’s another boo-tiful morning. Another fresh new start. To sum it up, the trip to UKM last nite wasn’t really cantik, menarik nor tertarik and definitely no bombs. My suspicions were unfortunately confirmed. They are no hot chicks in UKM. Well, they are a few but of course, they are either stuck with the wrong guy or just plain snobbish. They probably have this perception of these stall people being some sort of low-life creatures. Little do they know how each of this hip and savvy-looking stallers selling nasi briyani possesses a bachelor’s degree in their own right. Cewah.
For today I was looking for a date but I have to run a few errands with Cipoi. We have to first to Batu Caves for something about his EP for his band DTR. Then we have to move to Shah Alam to check out tickets for this Sunday’s FA Cup Final.
That’s all for today’s Breakfast Show. Join me again next time. Daa.
Well, it’s another boo-tiful morning. Another fresh new start. To sum it up, the trip to UKM last nite wasn’t really cantik, menarik nor tertarik and definitely no bombs. My suspicions were unfortunately confirmed. They are no hot chicks in UKM. Well, they are a few but of course, they are either stuck with the wrong guy or just plain snobbish. They probably have this perception of these stall people being some sort of low-life creatures. Little do they know how each of this hip and savvy-looking stallers selling nasi briyani possesses a bachelor’s degree in their own right. Cewah.
For today I was looking for a date but I have to run a few errands with Cipoi. We have to first to Batu Caves for something about his EP for his band DTR. Then we have to move to Shah Alam to check out tickets for this Sunday’s FA Cup Final.
That’s all for today’s Breakfast Show. Join me again next time. Daa.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Midnight Rambling Session
Have you ever stopped to think? I practically do it all the time. The toilet is my favorite place. Though I do spent a lot of time thinking onboard the LRT. But the cruelest time has to be when I try to go to bed early. When I’m forcing myself to sleep, I’d prefer my mind to be blank as to ease the transition to dreamland but you see, the human mind is one naughty thing. It is when you’re most comfortable and relaxed that it’s in its best form to go into overdrive. It refuses to shut down. A few days ago, I was lying on my back, staring into the ceiling when my mind keeps popping questions more than it could produce answers. My range of thoughts linger from sports cars to my fantasy football team and how on earth could I get a date with Nora Danish, which I now confirm is virtually impossible.
Smell the roses they say. But since this is Malaysia, it’s practically difficult to find any within a 5 mile radius.
Do you know what’s been troubling me lately? Women my age. I used to view them as harmless but recently I have a whole new perspective of them. They scare me.
Women my age wants to get married, like as soon as possible. And if they are not, chances are, they are already married. Some even have babies. Thank God I was in an all-boys school, if not some of my former classmates would have personally experienced labour. And that is a petrifying thought. I didn’t expect this to happen for at least another 2 years. Wait, I think I said that 2 years ago. Wow, now that’s troubling. Talk about memory deficiency and time lapse. Well, I couldn’t blame them. Apart from the fact that all of their other friends are getting married would explain the drive to join the bandwagon. But the most astounding reason behind this, as I found out recently is biological. It’s been found that the best age for women to give birth is when before they hit 30. Not meaning that above 30 is bad, just that below 30 is better. So if one plans to have 4 kids and humans could usually produce one offspring a year, that means they have to get married, well you do the maths. Man, all this women talk is tiring. Let’s cut this midnight rambling session short.
I will be at UKM tomorrow, chilling at a friend’s store who’s selling nasi briyani sempena UKM’s Pesta Konvokesyen. My motivation to go all the way to Bangi is to catch a few glimpses of UKM’s chicks. Generally they are not that hot but hey, I have nothing else better to do.
The air is cold. And deathly silent. fin.
Smell the roses they say. But since this is Malaysia, it’s practically difficult to find any within a 5 mile radius.
Do you know what’s been troubling me lately? Women my age. I used to view them as harmless but recently I have a whole new perspective of them. They scare me.
Women my age wants to get married, like as soon as possible. And if they are not, chances are, they are already married. Some even have babies. Thank God I was in an all-boys school, if not some of my former classmates would have personally experienced labour. And that is a petrifying thought. I didn’t expect this to happen for at least another 2 years. Wait, I think I said that 2 years ago. Wow, now that’s troubling. Talk about memory deficiency and time lapse. Well, I couldn’t blame them. Apart from the fact that all of their other friends are getting married would explain the drive to join the bandwagon. But the most astounding reason behind this, as I found out recently is biological. It’s been found that the best age for women to give birth is when before they hit 30. Not meaning that above 30 is bad, just that below 30 is better. So if one plans to have 4 kids and humans could usually produce one offspring a year, that means they have to get married, well you do the maths. Man, all this women talk is tiring. Let’s cut this midnight rambling session short.
I will be at UKM tomorrow, chilling at a friend’s store who’s selling nasi briyani sempena UKM’s Pesta Konvokesyen. My motivation to go all the way to Bangi is to catch a few glimpses of UKM’s chicks. Generally they are not that hot but hey, I have nothing else better to do.
The air is cold. And deathly silent. fin.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Horoscope
Korang sure penah tgk horoscope kat friendster tu kan? Lately ni asik pantek je prediction die. Smlm time aku nak gi amik result die suh aku cari "comfort in chaos". Arini die kata ni lak - Double-check your accounts --your bank may have made a boo-boo in your favor. Lancau kan? Tau aa bank account aku ade bape sen je, lagi nak buat fun of aku. Dem yu la horoscope!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Morning
The day of reckoning. Today would be the day for the brief visit to PAAC. A cold dawn welcomes me to the world. As if a grey mist is being uplifted while a cool, soft breeze accompanies a light glow from the horizon. The sun is coming out. The sounds of nature excitedly announcing the new day. The city itself is awakening after a quiet slumber. Even the neighbor’s cat has joined the party, as it tread gingerly across the tiled roof.
It’s a brand new day, even though it will be very nerve-wrecking for me later on. And I can’t believe I’m blogging at 6 o’clock in the morning.
It’s a brand new day, even though it will be very nerve-wrecking for me later on. And I can’t believe I’m blogging at 6 o’clock in the morning.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Cold Feet
On Monday morning, I was awoken by the sound of my cellphone. It was Quincy. When it’s Quincy, it could only meant one thing – the results are out. When I hung up moments later, my suspicions were confirmed. I have cold feet ever since.
I could be standing inside PAAC, having a conversation with her in less than 50 minutes if I wanted to. But I chose not. I keep avoiding it. I woke up late. I watched TV. I played computer games. I even finished a Dan Brown book in one and a half days. After a solemn Champions League night, I think the time has come. It’s momentously disturbing. The revelation could either make or break my day. No, make that years or even months. But knowing me, I maybe even delay the trip for yet another day. Well, I do have the new season of The O.C that I haven't watched. That would take a good one hour to take my mind off this thing. As mush as I try to experience it right now, I could never quite grip the meaning of 'ignorance is bliss'. It's foolish but bliss? Chocolate sprinkled, whipped cream with cherry on top banana split is bliss but ignorance? Memo me on that, will ya?
I could be standing inside PAAC, having a conversation with her in less than 50 minutes if I wanted to. But I chose not. I keep avoiding it. I woke up late. I watched TV. I played computer games. I even finished a Dan Brown book in one and a half days. After a solemn Champions League night, I think the time has come. It’s momentously disturbing. The revelation could either make or break my day. No, make that years or even months. But knowing me, I maybe even delay the trip for yet another day. Well, I do have the new season of The O.C that I haven't watched. That would take a good one hour to take my mind off this thing. As mush as I try to experience it right now, I could never quite grip the meaning of 'ignorance is bliss'. It's foolish but bliss? Chocolate sprinkled, whipped cream with cherry on top banana split is bliss but ignorance? Memo me on that, will ya?
Friday, September 09, 2005
The Unrequited Love
Last Wednesday I forgot where I parked my car at a shopping mall. It took me 15 minutes to realize that I was at the wrong basement. Valerie was parked another level below. I am not sure whether that is a sign that I haven’t been to a shopping mall in a long time or is it because of the woman trouble that I’ve been having lately. Yes, woman trouble. Me, of all people. Well, it can’t be the former because I could remember quiet vividly I went to Suria last week. Although not in my own car but on a friend’s ride but I DID remember where HE parked. So most unfortunately it could be the latter.
I swore to myself to never have these disturbing thoughts again. Well, not until I got a decent career going on first. But it seems fate has other ideas (doesn’t it always).
So here’s the situation, but first, let me ask you people something. Do crushes have a timeline? I mean, how long does a crush, is a crush? Because, in a dictionary, it says that a crush is a “strong but often brief feeling of love for someone”. Should I highlight ‘brief’ or ‘often’? How brief is ‘brief’? A day? A week? A month? How about years? Because that is my case – years. Some find that hard to believe, including me. But I’ve managed, during all this time, somehow.
I guess this is what unemployment does to you. Your mind wanders off to ridiculous thoughts. Out of boredom, out of curiosity, and certainly out of stupidity.
Okay, so here’s the situation. I have a crush on this girl, love, whatever. Point is, look up any romantic stories and they will say “Just do it! Confess your love to her” or something like that. And they will back it up with something like, “You have nothing lose” or “What have you got to lose?”. Well, apart from rejection I have another thing to worry about – the price of friendship. I saw something similar last night on One Tree Hill and it raises the question whether you would sacrifice friendship for a relationship. Rationally, I would vote for friendship because it’s a better long term investment. Having said that, it’s not a decision that is easy to live with. Sure when you’re out with your friends you say to yourself, why should I even be bothered with a relationship? I’m happy as I am. But sometimes that feeling does get to you. Like the last weekend. I was bored out of my mind. I had no plans and no one to chill with. It was during these times to you begin to wonder what is she doing right now. And you could only wish that she was beside you. Even if it’s just sitting on the couch in front of the TV watching the Discovery Channel.
You think that’s bad. Well, the fact that she’s seeing someone just made it a lot worse doesn’t it? As someone who has a crush on her, I should be broken-hearted and filled with jealousy (which I am) but I can’t display these emotions because as a friend I have to be supportive and happy for her. Smile and “understand” everytime she blew me off for her boyfriend. Once, I even gave suggestions how to spend a romantic evening with her significant other. Oh God, I even weave my own sad story. Why do I even bother telling people about this.
Anyway, let’s end this. This blog, I mean. For this entry, that is. I’m not gonna quit blogging for heaven’s sake. Valerie’s good. She got a new engine for her belly. A used one but much better than the previous. I had an awesome Merdeka celebrations. Another one of my basi stories. I went out for 24 hours. I left home at 11 am on 30th August and came home 11 am on the 31st. Most of those time I spent chillin’. At one point, even at a parking lot. About 4 hours of sleep, 2 hours of eating and the rest, talking and making obscene jokes. A high school friend held a barbeque feast at his home at Bukit Antarabangsa which I had a lovely supper and quite a fantastic view of the city when the clock struck midnight. And nope, no UFOs were visible this time. Although I do think that the fireworks display were last elaborate than last year’s. Cutting costs, I suppose.
Puteri Shariza got married a while back and although I received a personalized invitation, and had it delivered to me personally, I didn’t go. Just because I had nobody to teman me to Teluk Intan. I’m feeling absolutely guilty about it. Nak jumpe Puteri selepas ni pun rase cam segan. Do you know that in Malaysia, an average of 20% of invited guests do not attend to the kenduri they were invited to? Yes, a wedding planner told me that. So the next time you receive a kenduri invitation, do try your best to attend. Even though I just broke that rule only 2 weeks ago.
Apart from that, everything’s fine. Just that I’m craving for a date but I don’t have the financial resources to do so. That’s the only downside about being unemployed. Other than that, it’s fabulous. Especially when you want to go to the movies. Totally deserted. Even at the busiest of places. Well, till next time, arriverderci.
I swore to myself to never have these disturbing thoughts again. Well, not until I got a decent career going on first. But it seems fate has other ideas (doesn’t it always).
So here’s the situation, but first, let me ask you people something. Do crushes have a timeline? I mean, how long does a crush, is a crush? Because, in a dictionary, it says that a crush is a “strong but often brief feeling of love for someone”. Should I highlight ‘brief’ or ‘often’? How brief is ‘brief’? A day? A week? A month? How about years? Because that is my case – years. Some find that hard to believe, including me. But I’ve managed, during all this time, somehow.
I guess this is what unemployment does to you. Your mind wanders off to ridiculous thoughts. Out of boredom, out of curiosity, and certainly out of stupidity.
Okay, so here’s the situation. I have a crush on this girl, love, whatever. Point is, look up any romantic stories and they will say “Just do it! Confess your love to her” or something like that. And they will back it up with something like, “You have nothing lose” or “What have you got to lose?”. Well, apart from rejection I have another thing to worry about – the price of friendship. I saw something similar last night on One Tree Hill and it raises the question whether you would sacrifice friendship for a relationship. Rationally, I would vote for friendship because it’s a better long term investment. Having said that, it’s not a decision that is easy to live with. Sure when you’re out with your friends you say to yourself, why should I even be bothered with a relationship? I’m happy as I am. But sometimes that feeling does get to you. Like the last weekend. I was bored out of my mind. I had no plans and no one to chill with. It was during these times to you begin to wonder what is she doing right now. And you could only wish that she was beside you. Even if it’s just sitting on the couch in front of the TV watching the Discovery Channel.
You think that’s bad. Well, the fact that she’s seeing someone just made it a lot worse doesn’t it? As someone who has a crush on her, I should be broken-hearted and filled with jealousy (which I am) but I can’t display these emotions because as a friend I have to be supportive and happy for her. Smile and “understand” everytime she blew me off for her boyfriend. Once, I even gave suggestions how to spend a romantic evening with her significant other. Oh God, I even weave my own sad story. Why do I even bother telling people about this.
Anyway, let’s end this. This blog, I mean. For this entry, that is. I’m not gonna quit blogging for heaven’s sake. Valerie’s good. She got a new engine for her belly. A used one but much better than the previous. I had an awesome Merdeka celebrations. Another one of my basi stories. I went out for 24 hours. I left home at 11 am on 30th August and came home 11 am on the 31st. Most of those time I spent chillin’. At one point, even at a parking lot. About 4 hours of sleep, 2 hours of eating and the rest, talking and making obscene jokes. A high school friend held a barbeque feast at his home at Bukit Antarabangsa which I had a lovely supper and quite a fantastic view of the city when the clock struck midnight. And nope, no UFOs were visible this time. Although I do think that the fireworks display were last elaborate than last year’s. Cutting costs, I suppose.
Puteri Shariza got married a while back and although I received a personalized invitation, and had it delivered to me personally, I didn’t go. Just because I had nobody to teman me to Teluk Intan. I’m feeling absolutely guilty about it. Nak jumpe Puteri selepas ni pun rase cam segan. Do you know that in Malaysia, an average of 20% of invited guests do not attend to the kenduri they were invited to? Yes, a wedding planner told me that. So the next time you receive a kenduri invitation, do try your best to attend. Even though I just broke that rule only 2 weeks ago.
Apart from that, everything’s fine. Just that I’m craving for a date but I don’t have the financial resources to do so. That’s the only downside about being unemployed. Other than that, it’s fabulous. Especially when you want to go to the movies. Totally deserted. Even at the busiest of places. Well, till next time, arriverderci.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
The Kinabalu Trip
Okay, now here’s the basi story – the Kinabalu trip. I intended to write something earlier but I guess the enthusiasm just wasn’t there. If it was, I’d probably channeled it elsewhere. Anyway, here’s the light version of it.
What made the journey TO Kinabalu so interesting is because the day I was suppose to fly to Kinabalu, which was the Monday after my convocation, I was still in Tronoh that morning. I just woken up at 7 am and I was suppose to be at Sabah before sunset. My flight was at 3 pm. That’s the goal. Kinda daunting isn’t it? But not exactly impossible. But slip in a car breakdown in the middle of the equation and suddenly all hell broke loose. Yes, Valerie had a breakdown. 8 months of trouble-free service and then suddenly she decided to go bonkers. It was the crankshaft, yet again. At Gua Tempurung, on the North-South Highway, of all places. On the day I was in a rush, of all times. One can only imagine my despair and anguish. I was looking at missing the trip entirely. And that, was really painful.
And so came the tow truck and everything. The plan was I was supposed to arrive home before 11 am and then the whole family would push off to KLIA and would arrive there around noon all spick and span, checking-in and have a nice walk to the departure gate. Since this unfortunate incident had happened, at 12.30 pm, I only managed to get as far as Rawang. The panic button had long been pressed. I arrived in Gombak at 1.30 pm. I have to put my ass in an airplane seat in under in an hour and a half. I was already late.
A guy was suppose to send me home from the workshop and I had to drive the Pajero to the Taman Melati LRT station, park it, take the train to KL Sentral, take the 2 o’clock KLIA Ekspress and presumably be there by 2.30 pm, just nice for a last-minute check-in. Exciting? Only if I could make it.
So, I had only 3 minutes to pack some clean underwear, no time to even glance at lunch and I arrived at Melati at 1.33 pm. A few more anxious moments and I DID NOT make the 2 o’clock KLIA Ekspress train. So I had to board the 2.15 train. Now things has just gotten tighter. The check-in counter closes by 2.45 pm. The train and I were suppose to arrive at KLIA 2 minutes before that. Well, I only arrive at KLIA at 2.50 pm because the bloody train had to stop somewhere in Serdang. But miraculously, my mother managed to check-in for me after some desperate persuasion and the whole family end up running for gate A5. We were all huffing and puffing and I got leg cramps but we made it in the end. Yes, ladies and gents, we made it. We were the last passengers to arrive and they were some unfriendly stares but we made it.
But what’s all that had to do with Steve Martin and John Candy? Well, it was on the KLIA Ekspress that I remembered a movie titled ‘Planes, Trains and Automobiles’ in which those two Hollywood actors starred in that had Steve Martin in a familiar position that I was. Trying to reach his family for the holidays in time by means of various types of transportation – planes, trains and automobiles. Valerie, KLIA Ekspress and Air Asia, in reverse order for me. The only time that had me chuckling until I managed to buckle myself on board the 737. I could finally relax and decide what would be my first meal of the day (that is, whatever crap they have on board until I can get a decent one upon arrival). The plane bursts to full throttle on the runaway and took off as I kissed au revoir to Sepang as it disappeared under the clouds.
What made the journey TO Kinabalu so interesting is because the day I was suppose to fly to Kinabalu, which was the Monday after my convocation, I was still in Tronoh that morning. I just woken up at 7 am and I was suppose to be at Sabah before sunset. My flight was at 3 pm. That’s the goal. Kinda daunting isn’t it? But not exactly impossible. But slip in a car breakdown in the middle of the equation and suddenly all hell broke loose. Yes, Valerie had a breakdown. 8 months of trouble-free service and then suddenly she decided to go bonkers. It was the crankshaft, yet again. At Gua Tempurung, on the North-South Highway, of all places. On the day I was in a rush, of all times. One can only imagine my despair and anguish. I was looking at missing the trip entirely. And that, was really painful.
And so came the tow truck and everything. The plan was I was supposed to arrive home before 11 am and then the whole family would push off to KLIA and would arrive there around noon all spick and span, checking-in and have a nice walk to the departure gate. Since this unfortunate incident had happened, at 12.30 pm, I only managed to get as far as Rawang. The panic button had long been pressed. I arrived in Gombak at 1.30 pm. I have to put my ass in an airplane seat in under in an hour and a half. I was already late.
A guy was suppose to send me home from the workshop and I had to drive the Pajero to the Taman Melati LRT station, park it, take the train to KL Sentral, take the 2 o’clock KLIA Ekspress and presumably be there by 2.30 pm, just nice for a last-minute check-in. Exciting? Only if I could make it.
So, I had only 3 minutes to pack some clean underwear, no time to even glance at lunch and I arrived at Melati at 1.33 pm. A few more anxious moments and I DID NOT make the 2 o’clock KLIA Ekspress train. So I had to board the 2.15 train. Now things has just gotten tighter. The check-in counter closes by 2.45 pm. The train and I were suppose to arrive at KLIA 2 minutes before that. Well, I only arrive at KLIA at 2.50 pm because the bloody train had to stop somewhere in Serdang. But miraculously, my mother managed to check-in for me after some desperate persuasion and the whole family end up running for gate A5. We were all huffing and puffing and I got leg cramps but we made it in the end. Yes, ladies and gents, we made it. We were the last passengers to arrive and they were some unfriendly stares but we made it.
But what’s all that had to do with Steve Martin and John Candy? Well, it was on the KLIA Ekspress that I remembered a movie titled ‘Planes, Trains and Automobiles’ in which those two Hollywood actors starred in that had Steve Martin in a familiar position that I was. Trying to reach his family for the holidays in time by means of various types of transportation – planes, trains and automobiles. Valerie, KLIA Ekspress and Air Asia, in reverse order for me. The only time that had me chuckling until I managed to buckle myself on board the 737. I could finally relax and decide what would be my first meal of the day (that is, whatever crap they have on board until I can get a decent one upon arrival). The plane bursts to full throttle on the runaway and took off as I kissed au revoir to Sepang as it disappeared under the clouds.
***
I stayed at the Pacific Sutera at Sutera Harbour and it is such a momentously beautiful place. It’s a 5 star hotel so I was every bit pleased. They say Tanjung Aru is equally good but I didn’t have the chance to check it out so I wouldn’t know.
The only disappointing thing about the place is that it only had a small portion of the beach to offer. So small the space that nobody even bothered to take a dip in the saltwater sea. Most of them just prefer to chill at the pool, which was fantastic as expected. It even has Koi ponds with little bridges over them in tiny parks scattered in the surrounding area. But what impressed me most is the marina. It looks like a smaller version of Monte Carlo to me (as if I actually been there). I was so jakun, admiring all those delightful little yachts. There was no 300-ft, Abramovich-esque yachts but nevertheless equally enjoyable watching them. With an added touch of some sea breeze you could only wonder when you’ll be able to afford one of those things.
The city of Kinabalu – well, I must admit I had high hopes for this experience but was left virtually unimpressed. It’s a city, yes, but more structurally rather than geographically. It does accommodate some moderately-high buildings but the span, goodness me, not that big I’m afraid. I have been to larger townships in my lifetime. I think backpackers would be incredibly surprised at how fast they can cover the whole city area. Even I, with a bit of determination, can cover the whole city, end to end, in less than a few hours. But why go through the trouble, right? I only had the energy to bask in my arrogance. So my plan of spending a whole day ‘exploring the city’ had ended by midday. I visited every so-called shopping complexes in KK and none of them can even beat Alpha Angle at Wangsa Maju in terms on coolness. The only cool thing at KK was the waterfront which I spent about an hour watching a few local women catching small fishes using bamboo rods. It was really fascinating. They must doing that for everyday as a source of livelihood. Makes you feel guilty for every fish that you membazir at home just because they taste tak sedap. These people work so hard that even fishes the size of handphones can be a source of income.
I continued walking around the waterfront while my brother tries to bargain some pearl bracelets from the Filipino Bazaar. It is such a calming place, that is until nightfall.
At nightfall (that’s 6.30 pm for the people here), the waterfront bursts into life. It was like a pasar malam, with an ethnic Borneo touch. People were selling all kinds of different foodstuff and even seashells but my favorite is the area behind the Filipino Bazaar where some hawkers set up dining tables and offer fresh ikan bakar from catches of the day. You just pick which ones of the offerings that you want, take a plastic stool, have a seat while they put a plate of nasi putih in front of you, a plastic glass beside a jug of ais kosong and a jar of sambal. Wait a few minutes until your fish arrives and bon appetite! Old school dining. Makan selekeh-selekeh pun tak kisah because, honestly, I don’t think anyone bothered. Sure the complimentary breakfast at the hotel is awesome but this too is equally satisfying. If you want, you can add a few more tit bits from the ‘pasar malam’ next door like I did. I had a load of chicken wings and they were quite good too. Nasi putih, ikan bakar, chicken wings, di bawah sinaran lampu mentol, by the waterfront, isn’t that cool or what?
Tired of the city, the siblings decided to do a bit of nature as the next form of activity the next day. So we decided to check out the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park. What is that? Well, let me paste something…
Tunku Abdul Rahman Park is a State Park created to protect the natural enviroment, including the coral reefs, marine life, the fauna and flora. This park is lying from 3km to 8km off Kota Kinabalu which comprises of 5 islands. They are Gaya Island , Manukan Island , Mamutik Island , Sapi Island and Sulug Island. During the British rule in 1882 , a trading settlement was set up in Gaya Island by British North Borneo Chartered Company. This company later shifted to the mainland Kota Kinabalu. After 92 years , finally in 1974 ,Gaya Island and the whole of Pulau Sapi was gazetted as the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park , named after the first Prime Minister of Malaysia.. This gazetted place covers an area of 8,990acres (3,638 hectares). In 1979 , it was increased to 12, 185 acres (4,929 hectares) with the inclusion of the other 3 nearby islands such as Manukan Island, Mamutik Island and Sulug Island.
The only disappointing thing about the place is that it only had a small portion of the beach to offer. So small the space that nobody even bothered to take a dip in the saltwater sea. Most of them just prefer to chill at the pool, which was fantastic as expected. It even has Koi ponds with little bridges over them in tiny parks scattered in the surrounding area. But what impressed me most is the marina. It looks like a smaller version of Monte Carlo to me (as if I actually been there). I was so jakun, admiring all those delightful little yachts. There was no 300-ft, Abramovich-esque yachts but nevertheless equally enjoyable watching them. With an added touch of some sea breeze you could only wonder when you’ll be able to afford one of those things.
The city of Kinabalu – well, I must admit I had high hopes for this experience but was left virtually unimpressed. It’s a city, yes, but more structurally rather than geographically. It does accommodate some moderately-high buildings but the span, goodness me, not that big I’m afraid. I have been to larger townships in my lifetime. I think backpackers would be incredibly surprised at how fast they can cover the whole city area. Even I, with a bit of determination, can cover the whole city, end to end, in less than a few hours. But why go through the trouble, right? I only had the energy to bask in my arrogance. So my plan of spending a whole day ‘exploring the city’ had ended by midday. I visited every so-called shopping complexes in KK and none of them can even beat Alpha Angle at Wangsa Maju in terms on coolness. The only cool thing at KK was the waterfront which I spent about an hour watching a few local women catching small fishes using bamboo rods. It was really fascinating. They must doing that for everyday as a source of livelihood. Makes you feel guilty for every fish that you membazir at home just because they taste tak sedap. These people work so hard that even fishes the size of handphones can be a source of income.
I continued walking around the waterfront while my brother tries to bargain some pearl bracelets from the Filipino Bazaar. It is such a calming place, that is until nightfall.
At nightfall (that’s 6.30 pm for the people here), the waterfront bursts into life. It was like a pasar malam, with an ethnic Borneo touch. People were selling all kinds of different foodstuff and even seashells but my favorite is the area behind the Filipino Bazaar where some hawkers set up dining tables and offer fresh ikan bakar from catches of the day. You just pick which ones of the offerings that you want, take a plastic stool, have a seat while they put a plate of nasi putih in front of you, a plastic glass beside a jug of ais kosong and a jar of sambal. Wait a few minutes until your fish arrives and bon appetite! Old school dining. Makan selekeh-selekeh pun tak kisah because, honestly, I don’t think anyone bothered. Sure the complimentary breakfast at the hotel is awesome but this too is equally satisfying. If you want, you can add a few more tit bits from the ‘pasar malam’ next door like I did. I had a load of chicken wings and they were quite good too. Nasi putih, ikan bakar, chicken wings, di bawah sinaran lampu mentol, by the waterfront, isn’t that cool or what?
Tired of the city, the siblings decided to do a bit of nature as the next form of activity the next day. So we decided to check out the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park. What is that? Well, let me paste something…
Tunku Abdul Rahman Park is a State Park created to protect the natural enviroment, including the coral reefs, marine life, the fauna and flora. This park is lying from 3km to 8km off Kota Kinabalu which comprises of 5 islands. They are Gaya Island , Manukan Island , Mamutik Island , Sapi Island and Sulug Island. During the British rule in 1882 , a trading settlement was set up in Gaya Island by British North Borneo Chartered Company. This company later shifted to the mainland Kota Kinabalu. After 92 years , finally in 1974 ,Gaya Island and the whole of Pulau Sapi was gazetted as the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park , named after the first Prime Minister of Malaysia.. This gazetted place covers an area of 8,990acres (3,638 hectares). In 1979 , it was increased to 12, 185 acres (4,929 hectares) with the inclusion of the other 3 nearby islands such as Manukan Island, Mamutik Island and Sulug Island.
Capische? Okay, so due to financial and time constraints, we weren’t gonna go to every island. So we picked two, the biggest one – Manukan, and a slightly smaller one – Sapi. We took a very bumpy boat ride to the island and I couldn’t help but think to myself, since I left for Kinabalu, I was in a car, in a train, on a plane and now on a boat. Land, air, rail, water – I did it all. Quite a feat.
Upon arrival we were greeted by a sign which is now has become my mother’s favorite phrase – take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints. Suddenly you feel all that ‘protect the environment’ vibe. But that’s exactly what we did – just chillin’ on the white sandy beach. Mainly because you even have to pay to go into the water. And if you want to go snorkeling but don’t have the gear, you have to rent them, and they are ridiculously priced. Man, we even had to pay just to BE on the island. So in the end we just sat on the beach and tengok orang. That was Manukan, our first stop. We spent an hour and a half there before we shifted to a cozier Sapi. On the boat ride to Sapi I managed to board alongside a vivacious Italian girl, wearing a one-piece black bathing suit, covering her flawless bronzed skin. Unfortunately she was with her whole other family and her father is a really intimidating figure. A 6-ft, well-built, white haired Italian that goes by the name of Carlo. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is a bona fide Roman consigliere. But let’s get back to Sapi.
Sapi is also a delight. Less spacious than Manukan but nevertheless enchanting. We were suppose to spend 2 ½ hours on Sapi so right after having a simple lunch I dozed off on the beach. It was really relaxing. The cool, soft sand under your back, the caressing sea breeze, the faint sounds of children laughter in the background, the swaying of the trees, aah no wonder I crept into dreamland. By the time I woke up, the beach was almost deserted as people had started to leave. I had my feet dipped into the water just to get the feel. Pocketed a few dead corals washed ashore as a souvenir. I wonder if that’s illegal. But anyhow, the nature trip was good. Even though the view of the fishes from the jetty in the crystal clear water is impressive, I remembered I had a better experience at the Pulau Payar Marine Park at Langkawi. There were a lot more fishes and corals, and they even had a ‘feed the sharks’ session, which I personally thought was really cool. It reminds me of Sherman.
But since my stay in Sabah is only for 4 days and 3 nights it was soon time to leave. A few more chillin’ time at the pool and more visits to the ‘hip’ town centre made up for the rest of our free time. Geez, I even had time to watch Gol & Gincu at Kinabalu, such is that my mati akal tak tau nak buat apa. And the movie theatre is not that good either. It’s a refurbished old school cinema house. It’s clean and decent but there’s no padding on the wall so the sound echoes from the movie. That’s among its many flaws. And it was suppose to be the best GSC in the whole of Kinabalu! Enuff said.
Upon leaving, it is now official that I have visited every state in Malaysia. All 14 of them (that is, if you exclude Labuan. I don’t think I even want to go there. What’s in Labuan anyway? People say it’s like Brunei where by 8 at night, everybody went home already and all the shops in the city dah tutup kedai. Ish lagi la mati kutu camtu). It took me 23 years but I finally made it. The only regret that I have was that I didn’t have the chance to visit Mount Kinabalu. Quite ridiculous, isn’t it? To visit Kota Kinabalu but not to Mount Kinabalu. Macam tak cukup syarat lak. Tak cukup masa maa. It’s a whole day event. Kena sewa van la, 2 jam travel la, and not to mention a few hundred more terbang melayang. Takpe la. Maybe some other time. But overall, a good time. I enjoyed my vacation. But if next time an opportunity to visit the island of Borneo should arise, I would like to visit Sarawak. I couldn’t even spell my name the last time I was there. So young I was. It would be interesting to see what’s been brewing for the past two decades. People say a lot people, especially the people from Semenanjung, underestimate the beauty of Sarawak. I think I’m one of those people, and I would glad to be proven wrong. Maybe I could even hire Jes to be my travel guide. That is, if I wanted a tour of Bintulu. She’s only been there a few months so I think any attempts of venturing out of Bintulu would result in both of us getting lost. Yep, it’s confirmed. I SMSed Jes and she doesn’t even know where Mulu is. So, note to self: Jes as a travel guide – confine only to Bintulu town center. So, till next time posse, cheers.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
My Convocation
It is now 12.27 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. It has been more than a week since my convocation and only now do I think that I’m in the right frame of mind to write something about it. Strange, but true. Actually I had written something about it. A meticulous one and I stopped halfway through because, apart from myself, I think I’ll bore everyone who’ll read it. So I decided to take a warm shower, change into fresh clothes and conjure a fresh one with the blinking lights of the Twin Towers in the background to my right as my companion.
First up – the tie. Oh yes, the tie. The truly exquisite Armani tie and yes, I bought it. It’s hanging nicely in my closet, unsure the next time it will don my neck. Something I could only come to grip of owning in the last few days. Something which I thought, initially I could get for less than RM300 when I first came into the store. Then, imagine my surprise when I was told after discount, I could get a tie at RM345. yippee-ka-yay motherfucker. But what I didn’t realize was that the discounts were not valid for the new arrivals. And guess what? The tie I chose was the new arrivals line. And imagine my fucking horror when at the counter, while wrapping the merchandise, the sales lady asked RM499 of my money. By then it was too late to back out. I had no choice but to pay. Either that or the most humiliating and embarrassing moment of my life. Thankfully, I had enough cash on me. But horrifyingly, I was now RM150 short for the trip back to UTP. And there goes the budget for my pocket squares. Yet, somehow I managed to scrape through the weekend roughly unscathed. It was tough, but I survived.
As for the convocation, well, it was basically awesome. The dress rehearsal was incredibly boring as expected, but necessary I suppose. But it did give me a chance to catch up with some of my pretty lady friends during break. A giggle or two can take your mind off the tasteless food.
The convocation dinner was excellent, apart from the fact that it was held at the most uninspiring of places – the aging main hall. The food was fantastic. And I could tell it was an expensive course. Not as the one at Sudu but reasonably satisfying. But I still despise the fact that I had to wear baju batik for the dinner. It made me feel old. As if I’m a 30-year-old man with a wife and two children. Who thought up of this dress code anyway? Such preposterousness. But I finally managed to get a proper photo shoot with the gebu Sodes. It wasn’t exactly the cover of Vogue but it’ll do. And also I get to mingle with the elusive ‘pipi-pink’, and she even gave me a red rose. Aww ain’t that sweet? But I did miss UTP’s own Malaysian Idol. What’s her name again? Farah, I think. I’m not really a fan, just in for the bragging rights. But you should check out how high the slit of her skirt went. Very tantalizing.
As for the convocation. Oh the convocation. You know, someone actually stole my mortar board while we were forming the line for the procession into the hall. Some Malaysians, I tell you. I mati-mati ingat I left mine in my car, which was 15 minutes walk away. I went lah! Berpeluh beb. Trudging along feeling really upset just like Anakin Skywalker with the robe and all. Then after I came back to my spot, nearly half an hour later of hopeless search, there it was, elok-elok atas seat batu, betul-betul 30cm from where I left it. Nasib baik si bangang tu realize silap die. Kalau tak mampus aku. But I still asked around just to be sure. Pas 2 , 3 orang tak ngaku, ape lagi? Sambar je la, letak atas kepala, masuk line, diri diam-diam.
But when the procession finally gets underway I was already feeling tired because I had been standing for nearly two hours. Not to mention without food and water. It was nothing less than a torture but all in the name of creating a good impression. Oh fuck it. As if that wasn’t enough, I had to wait further longer until everyone was properly seated inside the hall. First it was the 500+ graduates, then the lecturers, the senate, the board of directors and finally the Chancellor and Pro-Chancellor. I was bored to death even before the party started. Oh did I mention my programme was the last to go on stage? That’s right. Of all 6 programmes, IT was the last to go up. I had to watch more than 500 people go on stage and receiving their degrees before it was my turn. Agonizing? Oh you don’t know the meaning of that. But when it did came, oh God, it was truly awesome. For that brief moment in time, for that few seconds on stage, I was the moment. The center of attention was me. It was me, the Tun and 2000 pair of eyes. When I walked up to him, time froze. “Congratulations,” the Tun said with a smile. It was truly an honor. A great man like him to personally congratulate me was something truly special. It only lasted for a few seconds but man, will I ever cherish that moment. Then it was the valedictorian award and I dozed off during Tun’s speech, alongside Hadi who was already slightly snoring beside me. Then it was the procession leading out and then, it was over. Well, not quite. Only the official function was over.
So supposedly I was to meet my parents outside the hall but as luck would have had it, during my brief journey out of the hall, I somehow managed to become the photographer for, not one, but two family photos. One for Hadi and one for Regina Hayati. You shameless people, how dare you make me jadi tukang amik gamba. But I did get a congratulatory shake from the man, Mr. Rahiman. Wow…I once gotten a ‘thank you’ from Tan Sri Hassan, then a ‘congratulations’ from Tun Mahathir, I guess another congratulations from a PDB head honcho would be another one for the book.
Then I took some family photos and it was good. Apart from the hot weather and I was in a three-layer suit which, inevitably, made me sweat like a pig. But the family meeting was short as they had to head home. To prepare for the trip to Kinabalu the next day and oh boy, do I have a story to tell about that one. But after the family went home I went straight back to the vicinity of the hall, in the hope of catching some of my friends for some memorable photo shoot. But to my disappointment, they weren’t any. I waited and I waited and I did manage to get a few with Irwan, Wakju, Apau, Zalina and Jes but other than that, no one. I was hoping for at least a photo with some of the IT/IS misfit boys but that too didn’t materialized. And the one girl that I really wanted to take a picture with was Aritha, but she too went lesap entah ke mana. Yes, you lah, Aritha! I searched high-low for you but never be to be found. Now I wonder why I even bother. Maybe I should’ve called you but as if that would’ve made any difference.
Anyway, overall, everything went well. Except the regrettably finale part of the photo shoot that never happened. Even for the mortar-board-tossing session was only held between me and Hadi. But it was just a small occasion. Our mortars just went spinning only a few centimeters in front of our noses. And we shouted a light ‘yippee!’.
I guess that’s it. Oh yeah I forgot to mention I saw Siti Nabilah on Friday. But just ‘saw’, not ‘meet’. Only just that once. But oh goodness me, she is still as cute and beautiful as I
last remember her. Too bad she already has this obnoxious and pompous boyfriend. Frakk!! But anyhow, I was too busy with my helium filled balloon. I spent two-ringgit on the balloon, you know. Pantek nye expensive. But I always wanted to try what Matthew Perry did and sound like the mice in Babe so I paid for it. And it worked! It really worked! After a few inhalations, my voice turned chipmunk-like. I had so much fun I laughed ‘till I cried. But sadly, the effect only lasted for a few seconds so before I knew it, I already ran out of helium. My two-ringgit just gone like that. But it was so much worth it.
Next we’ll be talking about my explorace adventure en route to Kota Kinabalu and why it reminded me of Steve Martin and John Candy.
Until then, I’m now an official UTP graduate. Woo hoo! That is, until I received my official transcript which UTP promised to post. But knowing UTP, I’m guessing it’ll only arrive here right before Raya. Cheers.
First up – the tie. Oh yes, the tie. The truly exquisite Armani tie and yes, I bought it. It’s hanging nicely in my closet, unsure the next time it will don my neck. Something I could only come to grip of owning in the last few days. Something which I thought, initially I could get for less than RM300 when I first came into the store. Then, imagine my surprise when I was told after discount, I could get a tie at RM345. yippee-ka-yay motherfucker. But what I didn’t realize was that the discounts were not valid for the new arrivals. And guess what? The tie I chose was the new arrivals line. And imagine my fucking horror when at the counter, while wrapping the merchandise, the sales lady asked RM499 of my money. By then it was too late to back out. I had no choice but to pay. Either that or the most humiliating and embarrassing moment of my life. Thankfully, I had enough cash on me. But horrifyingly, I was now RM150 short for the trip back to UTP. And there goes the budget for my pocket squares. Yet, somehow I managed to scrape through the weekend roughly unscathed. It was tough, but I survived.
As for the convocation, well, it was basically awesome. The dress rehearsal was incredibly boring as expected, but necessary I suppose. But it did give me a chance to catch up with some of my pretty lady friends during break. A giggle or two can take your mind off the tasteless food.
The convocation dinner was excellent, apart from the fact that it was held at the most uninspiring of places – the aging main hall. The food was fantastic. And I could tell it was an expensive course. Not as the one at Sudu but reasonably satisfying. But I still despise the fact that I had to wear baju batik for the dinner. It made me feel old. As if I’m a 30-year-old man with a wife and two children. Who thought up of this dress code anyway? Such preposterousness. But I finally managed to get a proper photo shoot with the gebu Sodes. It wasn’t exactly the cover of Vogue but it’ll do. And also I get to mingle with the elusive ‘pipi-pink’, and she even gave me a red rose. Aww ain’t that sweet? But I did miss UTP’s own Malaysian Idol. What’s her name again? Farah, I think. I’m not really a fan, just in for the bragging rights. But you should check out how high the slit of her skirt went. Very tantalizing.
As for the convocation. Oh the convocation. You know, someone actually stole my mortar board while we were forming the line for the procession into the hall. Some Malaysians, I tell you. I mati-mati ingat I left mine in my car, which was 15 minutes walk away. I went lah! Berpeluh beb. Trudging along feeling really upset just like Anakin Skywalker with the robe and all. Then after I came back to my spot, nearly half an hour later of hopeless search, there it was, elok-elok atas seat batu, betul-betul 30cm from where I left it. Nasib baik si bangang tu realize silap die. Kalau tak mampus aku. But I still asked around just to be sure. Pas 2 , 3 orang tak ngaku, ape lagi? Sambar je la, letak atas kepala, masuk line, diri diam-diam.
But when the procession finally gets underway I was already feeling tired because I had been standing for nearly two hours. Not to mention without food and water. It was nothing less than a torture but all in the name of creating a good impression. Oh fuck it. As if that wasn’t enough, I had to wait further longer until everyone was properly seated inside the hall. First it was the 500+ graduates, then the lecturers, the senate, the board of directors and finally the Chancellor and Pro-Chancellor. I was bored to death even before the party started. Oh did I mention my programme was the last to go on stage? That’s right. Of all 6 programmes, IT was the last to go up. I had to watch more than 500 people go on stage and receiving their degrees before it was my turn. Agonizing? Oh you don’t know the meaning of that. But when it did came, oh God, it was truly awesome. For that brief moment in time, for that few seconds on stage, I was the moment. The center of attention was me. It was me, the Tun and 2000 pair of eyes. When I walked up to him, time froze. “Congratulations,” the Tun said with a smile. It was truly an honor. A great man like him to personally congratulate me was something truly special. It only lasted for a few seconds but man, will I ever cherish that moment. Then it was the valedictorian award and I dozed off during Tun’s speech, alongside Hadi who was already slightly snoring beside me. Then it was the procession leading out and then, it was over. Well, not quite. Only the official function was over.
So supposedly I was to meet my parents outside the hall but as luck would have had it, during my brief journey out of the hall, I somehow managed to become the photographer for, not one, but two family photos. One for Hadi and one for Regina Hayati. You shameless people, how dare you make me jadi tukang amik gamba. But I did get a congratulatory shake from the man, Mr. Rahiman. Wow…I once gotten a ‘thank you’ from Tan Sri Hassan, then a ‘congratulations’ from Tun Mahathir, I guess another congratulations from a PDB head honcho would be another one for the book.
Then I took some family photos and it was good. Apart from the hot weather and I was in a three-layer suit which, inevitably, made me sweat like a pig. But the family meeting was short as they had to head home. To prepare for the trip to Kinabalu the next day and oh boy, do I have a story to tell about that one. But after the family went home I went straight back to the vicinity of the hall, in the hope of catching some of my friends for some memorable photo shoot. But to my disappointment, they weren’t any. I waited and I waited and I did manage to get a few with Irwan, Wakju, Apau, Zalina and Jes but other than that, no one. I was hoping for at least a photo with some of the IT/IS misfit boys but that too didn’t materialized. And the one girl that I really wanted to take a picture with was Aritha, but she too went lesap entah ke mana. Yes, you lah, Aritha! I searched high-low for you but never be to be found. Now I wonder why I even bother. Maybe I should’ve called you but as if that would’ve made any difference.
Anyway, overall, everything went well. Except the regrettably finale part of the photo shoot that never happened. Even for the mortar-board-tossing session was only held between me and Hadi. But it was just a small occasion. Our mortars just went spinning only a few centimeters in front of our noses. And we shouted a light ‘yippee!’.
I guess that’s it. Oh yeah I forgot to mention I saw Siti Nabilah on Friday. But just ‘saw’, not ‘meet’. Only just that once. But oh goodness me, she is still as cute and beautiful as I
last remember her. Too bad she already has this obnoxious and pompous boyfriend. Frakk!! But anyhow, I was too busy with my helium filled balloon. I spent two-ringgit on the balloon, you know. Pantek nye expensive. But I always wanted to try what Matthew Perry did and sound like the mice in Babe so I paid for it. And it worked! It really worked! After a few inhalations, my voice turned chipmunk-like. I had so much fun I laughed ‘till I cried. But sadly, the effect only lasted for a few seconds so before I knew it, I already ran out of helium. My two-ringgit just gone like that. But it was so much worth it.
Next we’ll be talking about my explorace adventure en route to Kota Kinabalu and why it reminded me of Steve Martin and John Candy.
Until then, I’m now an official UTP graduate. Woo hoo! That is, until I received my official transcript which UTP promised to post. But knowing UTP, I’m guessing it’ll only arrive here right before Raya. Cheers.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Surprising Myself
When the concierge Michael J. Fox chose Gabrielle Anwar over Anthony Higgins’ 3 million dollars, he chose love over money. I think I’m about to do the same.
I’m going for the Armani. Only a few hours before departure time have only I’ve decided to go for love, rather than money. I can’t believe I just said that.
I’m supposed to leave right now but goodness, it’s been raining heavily outside. I’d like to say cats and dogs but looks more like dinosaurs to me. Driving in these conditions would be rather pointless. Not to mention hazardous. I just hope it’ll stop soon because I can’t be leaving too late, I have to stop at Giorgio Armani first. Wow, now that’s something you don’t say too often.
While it’s raining outside I find myself watching Rebel Without A Cause. Yes, the James Dean classic. Funny thing is, I always picture James Dean as this definition of machismo and coolness of the 50’s. Somewhat a serious version of Fonzie. So I watched Rebel with much intrigue and for the first time ever, I heard Dean speak. And it was such a disappointment.
It reminds me the time when I first heard David Beckham spoke. Yeah sure, he has this THE haircut look and girls all over the world swoon over him but his voice, oh man, his voice sounds like an 11-year-old kid from next door ordering ice cream. Same thing with James Dean. But with his so-called bad boy image he sounded more like a brat.
Okay, maybe I’m being pre-judgmental here to diss such an ‘iconic’ figure. Maybe I should watch more James Dean movies before I can pass further judgment but as of right now, I couldn’t see the big deal behind the man. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but I’ll give higher marks to Brad Pitt as far as this thing is concerned.
Ahh I can hear the birds chirping. A good sign that the rain is stopping. I better get a move on. I wonder when the next I’ll be updating It’s a Guy Thing, because I’ll be leaving for Kota Kinabalu Monday morning for a good ol’ vacation. Oh if only life is always this good. Well, off to UTP.
I’m going for the Armani. Only a few hours before departure time have only I’ve decided to go for love, rather than money. I can’t believe I just said that.
I’m supposed to leave right now but goodness, it’s been raining heavily outside. I’d like to say cats and dogs but looks more like dinosaurs to me. Driving in these conditions would be rather pointless. Not to mention hazardous. I just hope it’ll stop soon because I can’t be leaving too late, I have to stop at Giorgio Armani first. Wow, now that’s something you don’t say too often.
While it’s raining outside I find myself watching Rebel Without A Cause. Yes, the James Dean classic. Funny thing is, I always picture James Dean as this definition of machismo and coolness of the 50’s. Somewhat a serious version of Fonzie. So I watched Rebel with much intrigue and for the first time ever, I heard Dean speak. And it was such a disappointment.
It reminds me the time when I first heard David Beckham spoke. Yeah sure, he has this THE haircut look and girls all over the world swoon over him but his voice, oh man, his voice sounds like an 11-year-old kid from next door ordering ice cream. Same thing with James Dean. But with his so-called bad boy image he sounded more like a brat.
Okay, maybe I’m being pre-judgmental here to diss such an ‘iconic’ figure. Maybe I should watch more James Dean movies before I can pass further judgment but as of right now, I couldn’t see the big deal behind the man. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but I’ll give higher marks to Brad Pitt as far as this thing is concerned.
Ahh I can hear the birds chirping. A good sign that the rain is stopping. I better get a move on. I wonder when the next I’ll be updating It’s a Guy Thing, because I’ll be leaving for Kota Kinabalu Monday morning for a good ol’ vacation. Oh if only life is always this good. Well, off to UTP.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Yester years, revisited
I would like to say that I could see KL today because the haze has finally cleared up but I couldn’t because the city has once again gone AWOL. Is the haze back again? I couldn’t tell. I hope not. It certainly doesn’t smell like it.
Anyway, I have some bad news. My final year roommate at UTP, Tomok is warded at the hospital. And it is almost certain he will miss this weekend’s convocation ceremony. Poor guy. I feel bad for him. I actually went with him to pick up his tailored suit recently. As it seems, it will continue to remain in his closet for the time being. Great things are supposed to happen this weekend. His absence will leave a bitter taste for everyone involved. He has a heart infection and from what I’ve heard, he’s going to be there for quite a while. Maybe months. I could only imagine his frustration and anguish. But it’s a good thing that he never lost his sense of humor, even in his current condition. The first words he said to me when I saw him at the hospital was, “futsal, futsal …” That was on a Friday, the day when we usually have our futsal outing. Well, I can only pray for him, give moral encouragement and wish him well.
To other news…
I made a trip down to memory lane yesterday. I went back to school. Yes, the Alma Mater. SAS. Well, it wasn’t a full on nostalgic trip because it resides at its new location at Putrajaya now. Nevertheless, there were still some familiar looking teachers around. Although none of them remembered my name or which batch I was with but they instinctively knew I am an ex-boy. Kinda weird, isn’t it? I guess there’s some aura that ex-boys project whenever they return to the school compound that’s easily identifiable by the teachers. Anyway the new school looks incredibly organized and proper. Sadly though, I could only see so many geek-looking kids compared to the cool ones. But some things never change. You see, I had a definite objective returning to school. I was looking to add a SAS tie clip to my ensemble. A touch of nostalgic. But, as the same during my heydays, the co-op only opens when they want to open it. And yesterday was a day when decided NOT to open it. Unlucky me. So many years on and my own school still find ways to disappoint me.
Tomorrow will be the trip back to Tronoh. Nearly a cool 8 months after I kiss its sorry ass goodbye. But somehow it feels sort of strange. I’m half excited and half, resentment, I suppose? Part of me says, “Oh yeah, it’s gonna a whole lotta fun!” and a part of it just goes, “Ha? Tronoh again ah?” But one thing I do hope though is to see Siti Nabilah again. Oh yes, Siti Nabilah. She has a boyfriend but who cares? Just a glimpse would be enough to make me happy. I wonder why am I so obsessed with her? Probably because she represents this unattainable height of fantasy for me. A girl that is out of my league, as I once confessed. She represents hope. Pleasure disappoints, possibility never.
I wonder what I’ll be looking forward to come Monday, once the epitome has passed. And I still haven’t answered the love or money question. Oh decisions, decisions…
Anyway, I have some bad news. My final year roommate at UTP, Tomok is warded at the hospital. And it is almost certain he will miss this weekend’s convocation ceremony. Poor guy. I feel bad for him. I actually went with him to pick up his tailored suit recently. As it seems, it will continue to remain in his closet for the time being. Great things are supposed to happen this weekend. His absence will leave a bitter taste for everyone involved. He has a heart infection and from what I’ve heard, he’s going to be there for quite a while. Maybe months. I could only imagine his frustration and anguish. But it’s a good thing that he never lost his sense of humor, even in his current condition. The first words he said to me when I saw him at the hospital was, “futsal, futsal …” That was on a Friday, the day when we usually have our futsal outing. Well, I can only pray for him, give moral encouragement and wish him well.
To other news…
I made a trip down to memory lane yesterday. I went back to school. Yes, the Alma Mater. SAS. Well, it wasn’t a full on nostalgic trip because it resides at its new location at Putrajaya now. Nevertheless, there were still some familiar looking teachers around. Although none of them remembered my name or which batch I was with but they instinctively knew I am an ex-boy. Kinda weird, isn’t it? I guess there’s some aura that ex-boys project whenever they return to the school compound that’s easily identifiable by the teachers. Anyway the new school looks incredibly organized and proper. Sadly though, I could only see so many geek-looking kids compared to the cool ones. But some things never change. You see, I had a definite objective returning to school. I was looking to add a SAS tie clip to my ensemble. A touch of nostalgic. But, as the same during my heydays, the co-op only opens when they want to open it. And yesterday was a day when decided NOT to open it. Unlucky me. So many years on and my own school still find ways to disappoint me.
Tomorrow will be the trip back to Tronoh. Nearly a cool 8 months after I kiss its sorry ass goodbye. But somehow it feels sort of strange. I’m half excited and half, resentment, I suppose? Part of me says, “Oh yeah, it’s gonna a whole lotta fun!” and a part of it just goes, “Ha? Tronoh again ah?” But one thing I do hope though is to see Siti Nabilah again. Oh yes, Siti Nabilah. She has a boyfriend but who cares? Just a glimpse would be enough to make me happy. I wonder why am I so obsessed with her? Probably because she represents this unattainable height of fantasy for me. A girl that is out of my league, as I once confessed. She represents hope. Pleasure disappoints, possibility never.
I wonder what I’ll be looking forward to come Monday, once the epitome has passed. And I still haven’t answered the love or money question. Oh decisions, decisions…
Thursday, August 11, 2005
An Evening with Dian
Sepenuhnya aku ingin memelukmu
Mendekap penuh harapan
Tuk mencintaimu
Setulusnya aku akan terus menunggu
Menanti sebuah jawaban
Tuk memilikimu
That’s the chorus of the song Menanti Sebuah Jawaban from Indonesian band Padi. The theme song for the film Ungu Violet. It is also the song being played over and over again on my PC while I’m conjuring up this blog entry. For the full translation in English, you can visit Ity Nadira’s Blog, under the blog title, coyly renamed Waiting for an Answer.
Now, why am I doing this? You might ask. Well, the reason is, yesterday I managed to meet the stars of the film Ungu Violet, Dian and Rizky, and it was strangely awesome. Although I know it’s a tad cheesy to start off with the words of the theme song but what the hell.
It was announced that they (Dian and Rizky) would be at TGV at around 6.30pm. Well, they weren’t. Surprise, surprise, eh? Fo
llowing my gut instinct, I chilled elsewhere and only made my way after 7. And yet, when I arrived, I was still early. They came at 7.30. One bloody hour later. These marketing people, I tell you, so annoying. But they get you every time, because once the stars appeared, you forget all the bullshit that was running before. So, a little bit of advice, when you decide to see a celebrity make a public appearance, be it known that they will only arrive one hour later than the promised time. Being “fashionably late” as they would call it. So find something to do in the meantime. Unless, of course, you wouldn’t mind going through the hassle just to get good seats (or good standing positions in most cases).So there I was, no exception, because once Dian showed up, I was star-strucked. Almost forgetting that I was standing for almost half an hour, listening to Mazlan of Senario making not-so-funny jokes. At first I thought getting a first hand look Dian would be enough for me. I thought of taking some pictures but my brother took the digicam along with him to Genting, so sorry people, no pics of Dian I’m afraid. But then an opportunity did come to me in getting their autographs. I was reluctant at first, seeing all the people crowding up to see the stars but once again, what the hell. So I joined the ‘moshpit’ and it was probably the first time my arms brushed against so many bosoms and my hands against so many tushes at one time. I was squashed by hordes of teenage girls, apparently diehard fans of Indonesian films. Good thing I was slightly taller than most of them which allowed me sufficient breathing space. But, finally, I managed to get their autographs. Plus, I shook the hand of Dian as well. So, hooray for me! And what a beautiful and breath-taking smile she has.
To tell you truth, Dian did not strike to me as a hot-looking actress. I presume that behind all that make up, glam and pizzazz, should I bump into her alongside Lot 10, I couldn’t tell that she is this hugely popular Indonesian filmstar because she would look like every other Malay girl. Unless though she greets me with a “Selamat sore,” then I would know that she’s at least Indonesian.
So here I am, with two signed Ungu Violet postcards (a red one from Dian, and a blue one from Rizky) and that sensation feeling at
the touch of Dian’s hand, though she did had a marker in hand which made it less dramatic. You’d probably asking why am I talking so much about Dian and not so about the hero, Rizky. Well, that’s simple, ‘cause I’m a guy. Of course I’m much more interested in the leading lady. But I guess Rizky does deserve a mention here. But unlike Dian, Rizky has some distinct features which would make him recognizable alongside Jalan Bukit Bintang. The dude got some thick eyebrows. So should I see him between Haagen-Dazs and Dome, I would like check his eyebrows and go, “Dude, you’re Rizky!”But that as far as it goes with my Indonesian themed trip as I had to rush home for dinner, and I barely made it thankfully. And guess where we went? Kak Long Paradise Island Café at Batu 8, Gombak. Tomok is probably having a laugh right now because I went with him the last time along with a few others and it was such a horrid experience. The ambience was better this time as I get to accommodate in one of those little wooden huts and it was quite nice. And the food also tasted surprisingly better but still not that great. I’ve tasted better. As far as I’m concerned, I still wouldn’t recommend the place to other people.
A little check out of the bedroom window and KL is still invisible. And the meteorological department has confirmed that the cause of the haze is because Rafidah’s ass is on fire. A little SMS joke I received from a friend.
I don’t have definite plans yet for today. Apart from looking at a Burmese cat having its morning stretch on top of my neighbour’s roof. And then taking a nap. That reminds so much of me.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
MO Haze
I thought yesterday was the worst haze-looking day I’ve ever experienced in my whole life. But today, it just got worse. I could walk out onto my lawn right now and look directly at the sun with my naked eyes and wouldn’t need to squint even a bit. But that’s nothing, considering the sun is millions of miles away. I am looking through my bedroom window and guess what’s missing? The city of KL. Yesterday I could still make out the shapes of both the KL Tower and the KLCC Twin Towers but today, wow, today I lost the whole fucking city. What’s in place is just a blanket of white mist except it’s not mist. It’s haze. Unhealthy, contaminated, bad-for-your-health haze. Really makes you think twice before considering going out of your house, at all. This may be the fickle of my imagination but I think my room is beginning to smell like burning forests.
Moving on…
I ventured out again yesterday, the objective being the MO Outlet at Taman Shamelin Perkasa, and the good news is I found it. Though I must warn you, Cheras is not a pretty place to get lost in, especially during the evening rush hour. Once you missed a turn, you have to go through a lot of trouble finding a way back to that exact same spot. But I somehow managed to locate the place after nearly finding myself on the way to Kajang, and you wouldn’t believe the area it was in. It was in an industrial area. Forklifts were running about and the rear ends of trailers were parked beside the roads. It was the last place you would expect to find a store selling designer clothes, but there it was, right smack in the middle of it.
Surprisingly, not many customers were there. In fact I was the only one when I walked in. Sure enough, there were Zegnas, Hugo Bossess, Cole Haans, Furlas and Aigners and at reasonably cheaper prices too. Items retailed at Rm300, you can get at RM100+. RM4000 at RM3000+. Quite significant discounts. But there’s a catch. They are all last season’s collection. But that shouldn’t matter because, let’s be honest, Malaysians are not exactly the Elle Woods kind of types. However, one huge disappointing drawback is that there are not many choices. The store is not that big ergo the collection. For example, I was hoping to find a fine piece of tie at a reduced price but although they were Hugos, they only have it in plain. From the palest of blue to the darkest of black. And they’re all priced under RM200, which is a lot cheaper than you would get at KLCC but I was looking for something more imaginative. Aigner offered something more adventurous but they were only 10 of them, that’s it. No more. So I walked out a disappointed man. But not really heartbroken. It is still a good store. May be if I want to find something classy for office wear, I would probably return. Even the Datin of the famed Datin Diaries shop there once in a while so it couldn’t be all that bad. You are most welcome to try and visit the place yourself. After all, I am just a guy with an amateurish taste in fashion.
Ungu Violet. The latest Indonesian teen flick to come out of that country with the promise of being along the lines of Ada Apa Dengan Cinta? and Tentang Dia. The stars of Dian Sastrowardoyo and Rizky Hanggono will be having a meet-the-fans session at TGV KLCC later today (Aug 10, 6.30 – 9pm). I would very much like to go but I have a family dinner arrangement for tonight. I wonder if I could make it both. I’m beginning to regret that I didn’t go to Mid Valley yesterday where they (Dian and Rizky) had their first meet-the-fans session. Instead, I found myself at Zegna KLCC where I was spotted by the saleslady who exclaimed to her colleague, “Wow, is this the guy from last time?” I must admit, it was rather embarrassing but since she said it with a smile, I guess it was harmless. I only came last week and yet she could remember my face. Thankfully I didn’t tell her my name. Imagine the scene if I did. “Oh Mr. Faizad, back so soon? What may I help you with this time? Still undecided are we?” and then all the people in the store would be looking at me.
Oh look, I think I just lost view of Gombak as well. And for the record, the Armani still looks the best. Hugos are pretty laid back and Zegnas can be a bit tacky. Also for the record, I am not fan of Indonesian films but when someone like Dian comes and visits, the least you can do is to meet her in person.
Till next time, take care of your health everyone.
I wonder if the birds can see where they’re flying to…
Moving on…
I ventured out again yesterday, the objective being the MO Outlet at Taman Shamelin Perkasa, and the good news is I found it. Though I must warn you, Cheras is not a pretty place to get lost in, especially during the evening rush hour. Once you missed a turn, you have to go through a lot of trouble finding a way back to that exact same spot. But I somehow managed to locate the place after nearly finding myself on the way to Kajang, and you wouldn’t believe the area it was in. It was in an industrial area. Forklifts were running about and the rear ends of trailers were parked beside the roads. It was the last place you would expect to find a store selling designer clothes, but there it was, right smack in the middle of it.
Surprisingly, not many customers were there. In fact I was the only one when I walked in. Sure enough, there were Zegnas, Hugo Bossess, Cole Haans, Furlas and Aigners and at reasonably cheaper prices too. Items retailed at Rm300, you can get at RM100+. RM4000 at RM3000+. Quite significant discounts. But there’s a catch. They are all last season’s collection. But that shouldn’t matter because, let’s be honest, Malaysians are not exactly the Elle Woods kind of types. However, one huge disappointing drawback is that there are not many choices. The store is not that big ergo the collection. For example, I was hoping to find a fine piece of tie at a reduced price but although they were Hugos, they only have it in plain. From the palest of blue to the darkest of black. And they’re all priced under RM200, which is a lot cheaper than you would get at KLCC but I was looking for something more imaginative. Aigner offered something more adventurous but they were only 10 of them, that’s it. No more. So I walked out a disappointed man. But not really heartbroken. It is still a good store. May be if I want to find something classy for office wear, I would probably return. Even the Datin of the famed Datin Diaries shop there once in a while so it couldn’t be all that bad. You are most welcome to try and visit the place yourself. After all, I am just a guy with an amateurish taste in fashion.
Ungu Violet. The latest Indonesian teen flick to come out of that country with the promise of being along the lines of Ada Apa Dengan Cinta? and Tentang Dia. The stars of Dian Sastrowardoyo and Rizky Hanggono will be having a meet-the-fans session at TGV KLCC later today (Aug 10, 6.30 – 9pm). I would very much like to go but I have a family dinner arrangement for tonight. I wonder if I could make it both. I’m beginning to regret that I didn’t go to Mid Valley yesterday where they (Dian and Rizky) had their first meet-the-fans session. Instead, I found myself at Zegna KLCC where I was spotted by the saleslady who exclaimed to her colleague, “Wow, is this the guy from last time?” I must admit, it was rather embarrassing but since she said it with a smile, I guess it was harmless. I only came last week and yet she could remember my face. Thankfully I didn’t tell her my name. Imagine the scene if I did. “Oh Mr. Faizad, back so soon? What may I help you with this time? Still undecided are we?” and then all the people in the store would be looking at me.
Oh look, I think I just lost view of Gombak as well. And for the record, the Armani still looks the best. Hugos are pretty laid back and Zegnas can be a bit tacky. Also for the record, I am not fan of Indonesian films but when someone like Dian comes and visits, the least you can do is to meet her in person.
Till next time, take care of your health everyone.
I wonder if the birds can see where they’re flying to…
Not really stylish is it? Not to mention the bad angle view
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
One Woman Men
If you happen to come across The New Straits Times last Sunday (dated 7th August, 2005), you will notice a rather peculiar headline, alongside the picture of the winner of a certain reality TV show. It read: Survey shows Malaysian guys are overwhelmingly One Woman Men. (Article can be found at the bottom of the entry)
The first time I saw it I raised an eyebrow. It was a rather amusing headline because there are so many questions that you can derive from it.
The first question is of course, why is such a finding headline news? Primarily because it’s a surprising fact. Primarily because people didn’t expect Malaysian men to be the one-woman types. I bet most of you, seeing that initially, your first reaction would be, “Really?”. It seems that all men, even Malaysians, have been generally labeled as chauvinistic pigs, even by their own countrymen. I’m not saying it’s not true but it is bad PR, with regards to our Eastern background-heritage-agenda-persona-crescendo.
The second question you need to ask is, what is the article is trying to tell you? So Malaysian guys are one woman men. So? I’ll tell you what the message they’re trying to pass (or falsely project, as you might say) is. It is never mentioned in the whole article but I’m pretty sure they are trying to tell Malaysian women that Malaysian men are a loyal, fully-committed bunch. Are they? Are we? I beg to differ. Why do you think that the title says ‘One Woman Men’ rather than ‘One Wife Men’? Sure, most of them have one wife each but does that mean they’re entirely loyal? Does it mean that they don’t have a mistress somewhere? Does it mean that the business trip to Haadyai was purely sex-free? Does it mean that there is no chance in hell that the husband will divorce the current wife in two weeks and get a younger one instead? No. They can have mistresses, be promiscuous and marry his personal secretary 20 years his junior, and can still proudly announce, “I only have one wife”. The article only tells you that most Malaysian men have only one wife at a time. Period. It did not state any conclusions. The only conclusions are made by the readers themselves, limited only by the strength of their imagination.
The third question is, what exactly IS the article is saying, anyway? Nothing. So Malaysian men normally have one wife at a time. So what? Is that something new? Is that some sort of revelation? So what if Muslims are allowed to have 4 wives? Key word is ‘allowed’, not the number 4. Sure they are allowed to have 4 wives, but only if they can afford it. Spiritually, financially, sexually, morally, ethically, among others. If you can’t, why bother? If only sex you are looking for, well, Jln Bukit Bintang is all yours during the weekends at night. But if you want legal sex at the price of having to provide everything a proper wife needs, than by all means, go ahead. After all, we are guys. We only think about sex 23 hours a day.
Now let’s take a look at the so-called case studies mentioned in the article. The one-wife men: one is a 71 year-old man and the other has been married for 41 years. Vintage examples for modern day conundrums. You ask these people whether they want another wife is like asking a 70-year-old businessman to part away with his 1972 Silver Spur. Surely they’ll say no because it’s not worth the hassle. Ask a 26-year-old executive whether they like to exchange their 2004 Continental GT with the new McLaren SLR once in a while and I wouldn’t be surprised if they say yes.
The man with the three wives. The main reason he cited for marrying 3? “I have a strong sexual desire”. He married more to have more sex. And he can afford 3 wives. So why not? Unfortunately, not all men are as lucky as him. He managed to overcome the cultural differences and the financial restraint. Others? Well, we prefer to take the easier road.
So, in the end, what have we learned? We have learnt that regardless if we are Malaysian, Italian or Lithuanian, men will always be men. Men are pigs. Married to one wife does not mean we don’t desire other women. Try put a half-naked Angelina Jolie in his bed and you can only wish your husband would say no. Having one wife only means he does not possess the resources to obtain another or merely he does not want to go through the trouble. So, is this some sort of warning bell for current wives and wives-to-be? Well, I have one word for you: caveat.
The article...
Survey shows Malaysian guys are overwhelmingly...
ONE WOMAN MEN
The NST News Team
KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 6:
Most Malaysian men believe that one wife is enough. A comprehensive survey shows that despite being allowed four wives, fewer than one per cent of Muslim men have the full quota.
Five per cent of the 7,589 married Muslim men polled in a survey on behavioural habits that could lead to HIV infection have two wives while 4.3 per cent have three wives.
Nearly 90 per cent of Muslim men are one-woman men.
Under Islamic law, Muslim men are allowed to have up to four wives but they need permission from their existing spouses — recognised officially by Islamic authorities — before they can marry again.
The survey carried out last year by Universiti Putra Malaysia also showed that despite bigamy being outlawed in the country:
• Nearly four per cent of Chinese men had two wives and 1.3 per cent had three wives.
• Nearly three per cent of Indian men had two wives and nearly two per cent had three wives.
Also polled were 1,475 married Bumiputera men in East Malaysia. Taking a second wife seems to be common in Sarawak, where 15 per cent of Bumiputra men have two wives and nearly two per cent have three wives.
Less inclined to go for more wives were men in Sabah. Nearly 95 per cent of them had one wife.
Under the law, those guilty of bigamy can be fined and jailed up to seven years.
Some 13,000 Malaysians were polled in the survey
Just one will do for them
Nine out of 10 Malaysian men have one wife.
For many of them, there is little need to take a second, third or even fourth wife because of this simple philosophy: Why go searching for another partner when there is a soulmate at home? Many were also put off by cultural and financial reasons and the strict bigamy laws.
The New Sunday Times interviewed two men who have lived for decades with the same women by their sides. And yes, they are still very much in love.
Zainal Ibrahim has been married for 41 years to Norshidah Mohd Amin and, during that time, the thought of taking a second wife has not crossed his mind.
"You marry just once, that’s all. You don’t marry another for no reason. When you’re contented with one person, why should you take another?" asked the retired Special Branch senior officer. Though Islam allows a man to take up to four wives, Zainal said Norshidah had been a good wife for so long that he had no need for another.
To which Norshidah laughingly added: "I’ve always told him if he can take another, so can I."
Norshidah, 68, said it is important for a wife to know what makes her husband happy.
"If he likes socialising, then you should also get to know his friends and their families," she said.
Norshidah said a wife needed to always focus on the strong points of her husband and forget the weaker points, as she too must realise she is not perfect.
"Now women think they are equal. I don’t agree. You must always respect your husband and know your place," she said.
Zainal, 71, said: "For me, my job, my wife and my children were all-consuming. I did not have time to think of anything else, what more another marriage"
Santokh Singh Gill married Dr Balwant Kaur just after three dates.
Having just celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary on June 8, he says that he cannot imagine life without her.
"I have lived for my family the last 30 years. My wife and my three children are everything to me," he said
Culture, language and religion are an important part of this couple’s life.
"When I go overseas and return home, she never fails to greet me at the door and touch my feet as a sign of respect," said Santokh.
"She still has retained her Punjabi ways and that means a lot to me."
When asked whether he would think of taking another wife if it were legally allowed, Santokh said: "No man can do justice to two marriages. It’s difficult to run two houses at one time."
Of course, in the course of 30 years, Santokh said there have been temptations but added that a person needs to know what to do when faced with them.
"For me, the thought of divorce is unimaginable," he said.
Dr Balwant said what keeps her marriage together is sheer trust and the fact that they tell each other everything.
"There must be no suspicions. You have to tell each other everything, even your past," she said.
The couple said that having a good sense of humour and being open with each other also keeps the relationship healthy.
"If I see a beautiful woman passing by, I will point her out to Santokh. I feel he is my husband and no one can take him from me.
"We women are equal but with a different sense of responsibilty. It’s the woman who keeps the house together." - By R. Sonia
No regrets three wives later
Datuk Mokhtar Abdul Samad belongs to the three-wife club. He is one of the four per cent of Muslim men in the country who have three wives.
After 22 years in a polygamous marriage, Mokhtar, now 58, has absolutely no regrets.
When he took a second and third wife, he met initial resistance from the first wife but eventually she came around to acceding to his request.
Today, however, they are all living normal lives.
Mokhtar admitted he took three wives because he had a strong sexual desire.
"I am only human and I have a strong sexual desire. Instead of committing sin, I might as well get married legally."
He said his views might cause a controversy as not many Malaysians were as forthright as he was in this matter.
The construction company owner said: "My wives are treated equally and they are given everything equally, right from the same number of children — three each — to the same type of bungalow furnished with the same type of furniture.
"They only get to choose the colour. The rest of the interior is the same."
He spends his nights equally with his wives.
"Since the houses are close by, I spend my nights on a rotation basis with my three wives. However, if one of them is sick I will stay longer in her house but other than that, I rotate every night."
Mokhtar added: "We only became rich recently, so I can say my wives did not marry me for my money. They married me because I am an honest person."
Seated comfortably in his first wife’s house in Kampung Malaysia Tambahan, Mokhtar recounted the time he decided to marry again.
"I was a taxi driver when I met my second wife (Datin Norasni Jaffaar) who was a passenger in my cab. We courted for a year with my first wife’s knowledge before getting married."
Soon after marrying Norasni, Mokhtar fell in love again and married a third time.
"This one was a former air stewardess. I met her on my trip to Singapore," said Mokhtar, pointing to Datin Zawiah Ismail.
Was it tough to break the news to his first wife about his intention to marry a second and, later, a third wife?
"Yes, it was. She was crying non-stop. But after meeting and getting to know Norasni, Latifah began to understand and allowed the marriage."
Norasni said: "Latifah and I met Zawiah before giving our consent."
Mokhtar, who has seven grandchildren, said his success was due to his wives.
"When I married Norasni, Latifah and I were living with our three children in a squatter house. It was only after my third marriage that my construction business began to flourish and thankfully we now live well," he said.
His wives feel their marriage to Mokhtar was fated but confessed they would have preferred a monogamous relationship.
"We adopt a positive attitude and try our best to get along with everyone. All our children are very close to one other and they don’t see each other as stepbrothers or stepsisters."
They performed their Haj together in Mecca in 2001.
"We live harmoniously because we feel that this is our fate and that fighting and sulking will only make things worse," said Zawiah.
The first time I saw it I raised an eyebrow. It was a rather amusing headline because there are so many questions that you can derive from it.
The first question is of course, why is such a finding headline news? Primarily because it’s a surprising fact. Primarily because people didn’t expect Malaysian men to be the one-woman types. I bet most of you, seeing that initially, your first reaction would be, “Really?”. It seems that all men, even Malaysians, have been generally labeled as chauvinistic pigs, even by their own countrymen. I’m not saying it’s not true but it is bad PR, with regards to our Eastern background-heritage-agenda-persona-crescendo.
The second question you need to ask is, what is the article is trying to tell you? So Malaysian guys are one woman men. So? I’ll tell you what the message they’re trying to pass (or falsely project, as you might say) is. It is never mentioned in the whole article but I’m pretty sure they are trying to tell Malaysian women that Malaysian men are a loyal, fully-committed bunch. Are they? Are we? I beg to differ. Why do you think that the title says ‘One Woman Men’ rather than ‘One Wife Men’? Sure, most of them have one wife each but does that mean they’re entirely loyal? Does it mean that they don’t have a mistress somewhere? Does it mean that the business trip to Haadyai was purely sex-free? Does it mean that there is no chance in hell that the husband will divorce the current wife in two weeks and get a younger one instead? No. They can have mistresses, be promiscuous and marry his personal secretary 20 years his junior, and can still proudly announce, “I only have one wife”. The article only tells you that most Malaysian men have only one wife at a time. Period. It did not state any conclusions. The only conclusions are made by the readers themselves, limited only by the strength of their imagination.
The third question is, what exactly IS the article is saying, anyway? Nothing. So Malaysian men normally have one wife at a time. So what? Is that something new? Is that some sort of revelation? So what if Muslims are allowed to have 4 wives? Key word is ‘allowed’, not the number 4. Sure they are allowed to have 4 wives, but only if they can afford it. Spiritually, financially, sexually, morally, ethically, among others. If you can’t, why bother? If only sex you are looking for, well, Jln Bukit Bintang is all yours during the weekends at night. But if you want legal sex at the price of having to provide everything a proper wife needs, than by all means, go ahead. After all, we are guys. We only think about sex 23 hours a day.
Now let’s take a look at the so-called case studies mentioned in the article. The one-wife men: one is a 71 year-old man and the other has been married for 41 years. Vintage examples for modern day conundrums. You ask these people whether they want another wife is like asking a 70-year-old businessman to part away with his 1972 Silver Spur. Surely they’ll say no because it’s not worth the hassle. Ask a 26-year-old executive whether they like to exchange their 2004 Continental GT with the new McLaren SLR once in a while and I wouldn’t be surprised if they say yes.
The man with the three wives. The main reason he cited for marrying 3? “I have a strong sexual desire”. He married more to have more sex. And he can afford 3 wives. So why not? Unfortunately, not all men are as lucky as him. He managed to overcome the cultural differences and the financial restraint. Others? Well, we prefer to take the easier road.
So, in the end, what have we learned? We have learnt that regardless if we are Malaysian, Italian or Lithuanian, men will always be men. Men are pigs. Married to one wife does not mean we don’t desire other women. Try put a half-naked Angelina Jolie in his bed and you can only wish your husband would say no. Having one wife only means he does not possess the resources to obtain another or merely he does not want to go through the trouble. So, is this some sort of warning bell for current wives and wives-to-be? Well, I have one word for you: caveat.
The article...
Survey shows Malaysian guys are overwhelmingly...
ONE WOMAN MEN
The NST News Team
KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 6:
Most Malaysian men believe that one wife is enough. A comprehensive survey shows that despite being allowed four wives, fewer than one per cent of Muslim men have the full quota.
Five per cent of the 7,589 married Muslim men polled in a survey on behavioural habits that could lead to HIV infection have two wives while 4.3 per cent have three wives.
Nearly 90 per cent of Muslim men are one-woman men.
Under Islamic law, Muslim men are allowed to have up to four wives but they need permission from their existing spouses — recognised officially by Islamic authorities — before they can marry again.
The survey carried out last year by Universiti Putra Malaysia also showed that despite bigamy being outlawed in the country:
• Nearly four per cent of Chinese men had two wives and 1.3 per cent had three wives.
• Nearly three per cent of Indian men had two wives and nearly two per cent had three wives.
Also polled were 1,475 married Bumiputera men in East Malaysia. Taking a second wife seems to be common in Sarawak, where 15 per cent of Bumiputra men have two wives and nearly two per cent have three wives.
Less inclined to go for more wives were men in Sabah. Nearly 95 per cent of them had one wife.
Under the law, those guilty of bigamy can be fined and jailed up to seven years.
Some 13,000 Malaysians were polled in the survey
Just one will do for them
Nine out of 10 Malaysian men have one wife.
For many of them, there is little need to take a second, third or even fourth wife because of this simple philosophy: Why go searching for another partner when there is a soulmate at home? Many were also put off by cultural and financial reasons and the strict bigamy laws.
The New Sunday Times interviewed two men who have lived for decades with the same women by their sides. And yes, they are still very much in love.
Zainal Ibrahim has been married for 41 years to Norshidah Mohd Amin and, during that time, the thought of taking a second wife has not crossed his mind.
"You marry just once, that’s all. You don’t marry another for no reason. When you’re contented with one person, why should you take another?" asked the retired Special Branch senior officer. Though Islam allows a man to take up to four wives, Zainal said Norshidah had been a good wife for so long that he had no need for another.
To which Norshidah laughingly added: "I’ve always told him if he can take another, so can I."
Norshidah, 68, said it is important for a wife to know what makes her husband happy.
"If he likes socialising, then you should also get to know his friends and their families," she said.
Norshidah said a wife needed to always focus on the strong points of her husband and forget the weaker points, as she too must realise she is not perfect.
"Now women think they are equal. I don’t agree. You must always respect your husband and know your place," she said.
Zainal, 71, said: "For me, my job, my wife and my children were all-consuming. I did not have time to think of anything else, what more another marriage"
Santokh Singh Gill married Dr Balwant Kaur just after three dates.
Having just celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary on June 8, he says that he cannot imagine life without her.
"I have lived for my family the last 30 years. My wife and my three children are everything to me," he said
Culture, language and religion are an important part of this couple’s life.
"When I go overseas and return home, she never fails to greet me at the door and touch my feet as a sign of respect," said Santokh.
"She still has retained her Punjabi ways and that means a lot to me."
When asked whether he would think of taking another wife if it were legally allowed, Santokh said: "No man can do justice to two marriages. It’s difficult to run two houses at one time."
Of course, in the course of 30 years, Santokh said there have been temptations but added that a person needs to know what to do when faced with them.
"For me, the thought of divorce is unimaginable," he said.
Dr Balwant said what keeps her marriage together is sheer trust and the fact that they tell each other everything.
"There must be no suspicions. You have to tell each other everything, even your past," she said.
The couple said that having a good sense of humour and being open with each other also keeps the relationship healthy.
"If I see a beautiful woman passing by, I will point her out to Santokh. I feel he is my husband and no one can take him from me.
"We women are equal but with a different sense of responsibilty. It’s the woman who keeps the house together." - By R. Sonia
No regrets three wives later
Datuk Mokhtar Abdul Samad belongs to the three-wife club. He is one of the four per cent of Muslim men in the country who have three wives.
After 22 years in a polygamous marriage, Mokhtar, now 58, has absolutely no regrets.
When he took a second and third wife, he met initial resistance from the first wife but eventually she came around to acceding to his request.
Today, however, they are all living normal lives.
Mokhtar admitted he took three wives because he had a strong sexual desire.
"I am only human and I have a strong sexual desire. Instead of committing sin, I might as well get married legally."
He said his views might cause a controversy as not many Malaysians were as forthright as he was in this matter.
The construction company owner said: "My wives are treated equally and they are given everything equally, right from the same number of children — three each — to the same type of bungalow furnished with the same type of furniture.
"They only get to choose the colour. The rest of the interior is the same."
He spends his nights equally with his wives.
"Since the houses are close by, I spend my nights on a rotation basis with my three wives. However, if one of them is sick I will stay longer in her house but other than that, I rotate every night."
Mokhtar added: "We only became rich recently, so I can say my wives did not marry me for my money. They married me because I am an honest person."
Seated comfortably in his first wife’s house in Kampung Malaysia Tambahan, Mokhtar recounted the time he decided to marry again.
"I was a taxi driver when I met my second wife (Datin Norasni Jaffaar) who was a passenger in my cab. We courted for a year with my first wife’s knowledge before getting married."
Soon after marrying Norasni, Mokhtar fell in love again and married a third time.
"This one was a former air stewardess. I met her on my trip to Singapore," said Mokhtar, pointing to Datin Zawiah Ismail.
Was it tough to break the news to his first wife about his intention to marry a second and, later, a third wife?
"Yes, it was. She was crying non-stop. But after meeting and getting to know Norasni, Latifah began to understand and allowed the marriage."
Norasni said: "Latifah and I met Zawiah before giving our consent."
Mokhtar, who has seven grandchildren, said his success was due to his wives.
"When I married Norasni, Latifah and I were living with our three children in a squatter house. It was only after my third marriage that my construction business began to flourish and thankfully we now live well," he said.
His wives feel their marriage to Mokhtar was fated but confessed they would have preferred a monogamous relationship.
"We adopt a positive attitude and try our best to get along with everyone. All our children are very close to one other and they don’t see each other as stepbrothers or stepsisters."
They performed their Haj together in Mecca in 2001.
"We live harmoniously because we feel that this is our fate and that fighting and sulking will only make things worse," said Zawiah.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Football, with a touch of cliche
Another week has gone a full circle and we are back on a Monday.
Interesting things has happened in the past few days. Top news – Chelsea has claimed the Charity Shield! Yeah! At the expense of Arsenal! Double yeah!
It was just awesome. Just awesome at Cardiff.
But a bit of disappointing news, I was wrong about Amylea. She didn’t win but she did come out tops amongst all the female contestants. I guess I wasn’t entirely wrong. The one who did win it was that bloke from Johor. Tell me, how dumb and naïve are we Malaysians have become? Very, I’m afraid. Thankfully, the fiasco is all over. People will still talk about it for some time but it will die out gradually. With the football season kicking in, all the better.
Speaking of football, a new film is coming out, local movie, mind you, and it’s called Gol & Gincu (Goal & Lipstick). Quite a catchy title, don’t you think? It’s a bona fide modern day chick-flick. But I’m convinced it’s going to be better than those Cinta Fotokopi and Sembilu 2005 trashes. It’s much more refined and although penned by the people who made the so-called popular 3R TV show, what strikes me as the most interesting part is the element of futsal as the core background of the movie. The movie is about a girl who tried to win her futsal-holic boyfriend back by taking up the game upon herself. Enqueue friendship ties, self-discover, bla bla bla. I think it will be fun to watch how girls play futsal on the big screen. It wouldn’t be sexy, I mean, it used to, but just less these days. Will it be any good? Well, it’s going to be filled with pink ribbons with matching futsal shoes but I think it’ll offer something different to our local scene, albeit it will showcase a cliché of the crowd you see every weekend at Hartamas Square
Interesting things has happened in the past few days. Top news – Chelsea has claimed the Charity Shield! Yeah! At the expense of Arsenal! Double yeah!
It was just awesome. Just awesome at Cardiff.
But a bit of disappointing news, I was wrong about Amylea. She didn’t win but she did come out tops amongst all the female contestants. I guess I wasn’t entirely wrong. The one who did win it was that bloke from Johor. Tell me, how dumb and naïve are we Malaysians have become? Very, I’m afraid. Thankfully, the fiasco is all over. People will still talk about it for some time but it will die out gradually. With the football season kicking in, all the better.
Speaking of football, a new film is coming out, local movie, mind you, and it’s called Gol & Gincu (Goal & Lipstick). Quite a catchy title, don’t you think? It’s a bona fide modern day chick-flick. But I’m convinced it’s going to be better than those Cinta Fotokopi and Sembilu 2005 trashes. It’s much more refined and although penned by the people who made the so-called popular 3R TV show, what strikes me as the most interesting part is the element of futsal as the core background of the movie. The movie is about a girl who tried to win her futsal-holic boyfriend back by taking up the game upon herself. Enqueue friendship ties, self-discover, bla bla bla. I think it will be fun to watch how girls play futsal on the big screen. It wouldn’t be sexy, I mean, it used to, but just less these days. Will it be any good? Well, it’s going to be filled with pink ribbons with matching futsal shoes but I think it’ll offer something different to our local scene, albeit it will showcase a cliché of the crowd you see every weekend at Hartamas Square
Saturday, August 06, 2005
A Fair that wasn't
I hate crowds. Did ever mention that? It’s the primary reason why I avoid Jalan Tuanku and the occasional pasar malam at all costs. It’s hard to enjoy any quality moment at all when people keep bumping into your shoulder every 3 seconds and the only air you get to breathe is the stench of other people’s body odour.
The Pikom PC Fair. Malaysia’s biggest PC cash and carry event. A crowd puller? A definite ‘yes’. Been around since 1995 and I couldn’t remember the last time I went to one, mainly because it was such a hassle with the crowds that I locked away those unpleasant memories so far back in my mind, never to relive it again.
Earlier this week, I was asked a favour. It was from Sasa. She asked if I was free this Friday. I said yes. She asked whether I would like to accompany her to the PC Fair. Again, I said yes, which was probably my biggest mistake of the week. But the thought didn’t occur to me at that time. Mainly because this year it will be held at the KLCC Convention Centre. A grandiose venue so huge I think people can actually skydive in there. So I think, maybe the crowd will be not that bad this year. Maybe with such a modern place, it will be a pleasant and civilized experience. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. One important rule of life that I forgot at that moment is that a fair will always be a fair and people will continue to throng the places regardless of the venue. Especially in Malaysia where people couldn’t resist the terms ‘cheaper products’ and ‘free admission’ used in the same sentence in any advertising tagline.
So there I was, at the fair, with Sasa. The moment I stepped past the entrance I knew it was going to be bad. Even at Friday afternoon, when people are supposed to be working at their offices, the place was still relentlessly packed. Lucky us, the Mac booth was near at the beginning of the fair so Sasa managed to get her pink IPod mini without wasting so much time. But therein lies another problem, to get out of there, we had to cross the 5 halls and exit over
there which was on the other side of the centre. In which we did. As if we have any other choice. So there I was battling through the crowd, all the way hassled by salespeople handing garbage brochures and evading lost and clueless couples who suddenly decided to stop dead in their tracks. When I finally managed to break free, the warm and hazy air quality of urban KL was much more welcoming than the air-conditioned halls. Looking back, it felt like I just came out from what was almost like the jungles of Amazon. In which time, I made a stronger vow, never to return again.
The Pikom PC Fair. Malaysia’s biggest PC cash and carry event. A crowd puller? A definite ‘yes’. Been around since 1995 and I couldn’t remember the last time I went to one, mainly because it was such a hassle with the crowds that I locked away those unpleasant memories so far back in my mind, never to relive it again.
Earlier this week, I was asked a favour. It was from Sasa. She asked if I was free this Friday. I said yes. She asked whether I would like to accompany her to the PC Fair. Again, I said yes, which was probably my biggest mistake of the week. But the thought didn’t occur to me at that time. Mainly because this year it will be held at the KLCC Convention Centre. A grandiose venue so huge I think people can actually skydive in there. So I think, maybe the crowd will be not that bad this year. Maybe with such a modern place, it will be a pleasant and civilized experience. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. One important rule of life that I forgot at that moment is that a fair will always be a fair and people will continue to throng the places regardless of the venue. Especially in Malaysia where people couldn’t resist the terms ‘cheaper products’ and ‘free admission’ used in the same sentence in any advertising tagline.
So there I was, at the fair, with Sasa. The moment I stepped past the entrance I knew it was going to be bad. Even at Friday afternoon, when people are supposed to be working at their offices, the place was still relentlessly packed. Lucky us, the Mac booth was near at the beginning of the fair so Sasa managed to get her pink IPod mini without wasting so much time. But therein lies another problem, to get out of there, we had to cross the 5 halls and exit over
there which was on the other side of the centre. In which we did. As if we have any other choice. So there I was battling through the crowd, all the way hassled by salespeople handing garbage brochures and evading lost and clueless couples who suddenly decided to stop dead in their tracks. When I finally managed to break free, the warm and hazy air quality of urban KL was much more welcoming than the air-conditioned halls. Looking back, it felt like I just came out from what was almost like the jungles of Amazon. In which time, I made a stronger vow, never to return again.Left:Zalina, started work at KLCC for a weeks already.
Just found out today.Ignorant?Guilty as charged.
Right: Sasa, the owner of a brand new pink IPod mini.
Fortunately, the day was not to be ended on a bitter note. Arrangements have been made for a game of futsal later that night. And what can be more pleasing than a good ki
ck-a-bout with a bunch of familiar blokes. Even though after 10 minutes of play my heart already felt like it was going to burst because I never done so many sprinting in months, I had fun. I wake up this morning with aches on both my hamstrings and calves, evident of how inactive I’ve been lately. But it was definitely worth it. And I still couldn’t beat Mon in Winning 11.
So, what’s in store for today? Another shiny Saturday with the Twin Towers only a vague image silhouetting behind the haze. I have a kenduri kawin invitation. One of my brother’s Sauber friend’s sister is getting married. I personally don’t know either of them. I just hope the food is good. Tonight’s is the so much hyped about AF Final. Amylea will win, as the Faizad Prophecy predicts. Hopefully I can find something else better to do than letting my butt rot in front of the TV. But I wouldn’t tomorrow night though when an awesome evening at Cardiff is expected. Oh yeah!!
Fortunately, the day was not to be ended on a bitter note. Arrangements have been made for a game of futsal later that night. And what can be more pleasing than a good ki
ck-a-bout with a bunch of familiar blokes. Even though after 10 minutes of play my heart already felt like it was going to burst because I never done so many sprinting in months, I had fun. I wake up this morning with aches on both my hamstrings and calves, evident of how inactive I’ve been lately. But it was definitely worth it. And I still couldn’t beat Mon in Winning 11.So, what’s in store for today? Another shiny Saturday with the Twin Towers only a vague image silhouetting behind the haze. I have a kenduri kawin invitation. One of my brother’s Sauber friend’s sister is getting married. I personally don’t know either of them. I just hope the food is good. Tonight’s is the so much hyped about AF Final. Amylea will win, as the Faizad Prophecy predicts. Hopefully I can find something else better to do than letting my butt rot in front of the TV. But I wouldn’t tomorrow night though when an awesome evening at Cardiff is expected. Oh yeah!!
Probably the best 2 looking guys
on the pitch that night
The Aftermath
Friday, August 05, 2005
Romancing the Tie
I never thought it was possible to fall in love with a tie, but it did happen.
As planned, I frisked around Suria yesterday and it was conceivably a better outing than at OU because unlike the day before, I was spoilt for choice. But that was even before I met my true love which was hanging nicely in a store plaqued under then name of Giorgio Armani. It has an exquisite rich reddish brown, almost sepia like shade on a fabric which was breathtakingly soft and felt truly expensive. It wasn’t love at first sight, but when the girl who attended to me pulled out an Armani suit along with a white shirt and put the tie into a knot before placing it onto the shirt, it looked so perfect and goddamn beautiful. That’s what I love about designer stores. You only need to voice out what you want or like to see and the sales people would kindly oblige. They would hold shirts up for you, give insightful advices and lay down all the necessary accessories with the slightest inclination of what you’re planning in your mind. I’m just surprised I was not offered a drink. But that tie is absolutely gorgeous. I could not put my mind off it. I was thinking about it all the way home, when I tossed and turned in bed and the first thing to hit me when I woke up this morning. An alternative, also an Armani, comes in a silvery white shine. Putting it on would probably make me look like a Best Man in the Wedding Planner but it does look good nevertheless. A little touch of suave and sophistication.
However, the one thing that prevents me from saying ‘yes’ to Armani is of course the price, which is a quad over my budget. Saying ‘yes’ would mean I couldn’t afford Valerie’s petrol for the next two weeks. But it does look temptingly worth it. If not, I wouldn’t be writing about it here, would I?
An alternative to Armani would be Hugo Boss or E Zegna. A whole lot more of choices and affordable within my budget. Not really Jusco kind of affordable but the designer label kind. And it would allow me to shop for other accessories for my ensemble.
I snooped around at other stores such as Aigner, Ferre and Ferragamo but all of them lack finesse. Gucci on the other hand focuses more on women. I am still undecided but I want to check out that MO Outlet at Taman Shamelin Perkasa. People say that they sell marked-down prices of designer brands. Interesting claim. Which would make that my next stop next week.
Speaking of indecisiveness, after reading my previous blog entry, my personal consultant aka Ity Nadira ‘buzzed’ me and gave me a suggestion for an ensemble. A slight dark blue shirt with a green tie to go with my black suit. Seems rather unfathomable at first once you spend some time pondering it, it looks rather chic, wherein lies the problem. You have to grow into liking the design. It’s not a showstopper. A little bit too unique I’m afraid. The first ever fashionistic suggestion that I do not 100% agree with my personal consultant. Sorry, Ity but I’ll do keep that thought in mind for future use.
And that concludes another brief, sporadic adventure in the life of this author. Tune in next time when he answers the inevitable question, for love or money?
As planned, I frisked around Suria yesterday and it was conceivably a better outing than at OU because unlike the day before, I was spoilt for choice. But that was even before I met my true love which was hanging nicely in a store plaqued under then name of Giorgio Armani. It has an exquisite rich reddish brown, almost sepia like shade on a fabric which was breathtakingly soft and felt truly expensive. It wasn’t love at first sight, but when the girl who attended to me pulled out an Armani suit along with a white shirt and put the tie into a knot before placing it onto the shirt, it looked so perfect and goddamn beautiful. That’s what I love about designer stores. You only need to voice out what you want or like to see and the sales people would kindly oblige. They would hold shirts up for you, give insightful advices and lay down all the necessary accessories with the slightest inclination of what you’re planning in your mind. I’m just surprised I was not offered a drink. But that tie is absolutely gorgeous. I could not put my mind off it. I was thinking about it all the way home, when I tossed and turned in bed and the first thing to hit me when I woke up this morning. An alternative, also an Armani, comes in a silvery white shine. Putting it on would probably make me look like a Best Man in the Wedding Planner but it does look good nevertheless. A little touch of suave and sophistication.
However, the one thing that prevents me from saying ‘yes’ to Armani is of course the price, which is a quad over my budget. Saying ‘yes’ would mean I couldn’t afford Valerie’s petrol for the next two weeks. But it does look temptingly worth it. If not, I wouldn’t be writing about it here, would I?
An alternative to Armani would be Hugo Boss or E Zegna. A whole lot more of choices and affordable within my budget. Not really Jusco kind of affordable but the designer label kind. And it would allow me to shop for other accessories for my ensemble.
I snooped around at other stores such as Aigner, Ferre and Ferragamo but all of them lack finesse. Gucci on the other hand focuses more on women. I am still undecided but I want to check out that MO Outlet at Taman Shamelin Perkasa. People say that they sell marked-down prices of designer brands. Interesting claim. Which would make that my next stop next week.
Speaking of indecisiveness, after reading my previous blog entry, my personal consultant aka Ity Nadira ‘buzzed’ me and gave me a suggestion for an ensemble. A slight dark blue shirt with a green tie to go with my black suit. Seems rather unfathomable at first once you spend some time pondering it, it looks rather chic, wherein lies the problem. You have to grow into liking the design. It’s not a showstopper. A little bit too unique I’m afraid. The first ever fashionistic suggestion that I do not 100% agree with my personal consultant. Sorry, Ity but I’ll do keep that thought in mind for future use.
And that concludes another brief, sporadic adventure in the life of this author. Tune in next time when he answers the inevitable question, for love or money?
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
August-us
Aah August. The month when at the end of it, our country celebrates its National Day. A very good reason to party frantically the night before. The girl of the month is Tata Young. Very tantalizing but still fell a bit short from July’s girl of the month, Maya Karin. More popularly known as the fiendish pontianak nowadays but ask any guy who has FHM’s 2005 calendar and I can guarantee you most of them would want to make out with her even at the price of having her sucking the blood out of their necks. And not to mention her smile. Sexy, haunting, ghoulish, mesmerizing - all rolled into one.
As for me, personally, I have my convocation to look forward to. Nearly a year after I had finished my studies. It’s not that bad, actually because it gives you the opportunity to chill first. I’ve just came back from One Utama and after spending a whole afternoon loitering there I am still as clueless as I was this morning as with regards to my ensemble.
The ensemble:
Suit
Shirt
Tie
Shoes
Other accessories
My suit is already under completion but I do have trouble picking out a savvy tie. Usually people will have a black suit, white shirt and a red tie. It looks good, very charismatic but everyone will wear it. It’s like a 3 Series BMW. It’s fabulous but incredibly boring and unimaginative. I was thinking about that Hugh Grant look in Two Weeks Notice but after scouring acres of shopping stores, I could not find the proper shade. Either they’re too pink or too purple. When the shade is right, the pattern goes horribly wrong. I ended up giving my temples a massage after seeing so many colours. Tomorrow I’ll be trying my luck at Suria. Hopefully I can find something under the sun.
August too has lots of arty stuff on offer. The jazz fest at Plaza Mont Kiara, a 17 band performance at the Atmosphere, theatres of Romi and Jolee, and Neil Simon’s The Odd Couple, and I still want to check out the National Art Gallery.
Next on my to-do list is to venture out and locate some of KL’s latest (or not) hot food outlets. Most of them are around Bangsar but you can’t actually pusing2 around that area during the weekends because it’s jam packed like crazy. So what better time than midday weekdays?
And returning in August after a 2 month hiatus is the 2005/06 football season!!Oh yeah!Plus, now I can enjoy the kick-off of the new season from the comfort of my own home and not hassle for cafeterias chair between 50 odd other students for a 19-inch TV screen. Two things I'm looking forward to this season, or players for that matter - Shaun Wright Phillips and Edgar Davids. It's gonna be awesome.
So, lots of stuff to look forward to in August. I always make a habit of making outrageous plans so that even if you don’t get to fulfill them all, completing half of them would prove more than enough. Because there’s always tomorrow. Cheers.
A Celebration
A cold drink is best after a long walk under the scorching sun. A nice cup of tea on the balcony is soothing after a hard day at work. A cool shower is refreshing after a game of football on a wet pitch. And so is a nice, long sleep after a week of sleepless nights – it’s priceless.
Here I am swiveling in my big blue chair, listening to Malay hits by Misha Omar and Ning Baizura. Another morning after a very satisfying sleep into the night. A privilege I didn’t had the luxury to enjoy for the past week because of the MICPA Conversion Course final examination. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the 4 months tenure has been brought to a close. Signed-off with the tougher-than-I-expected exams. But I did my best so no regrets there. Unless, of course, I failed and I have everything to regret for. Apart from not getting enough sleep, burning the midnight oil and somehow managed to turn sleep, once again, into a state of mind.
It’s kind of amusing, you know, to find yourself so disoriented because of lack of sleep. I remember one day last week when I though to myself, “That Tru Calling show is really interesting. More so with that Eliza Dushku girl. I wonder if I can catch this week’s show. Now, when is it supposed to be on again? It was Tues…oh wait, Tuesday was just yesterday. That ‘last week’ show was actually on yesterday. The next show wouldn’t be until next week. Damn…,”. I could only end up giggling. For the whole of last week, it took me an average of 2 seconds to remember what date of that particular day. “It’s…..the 28th!”. Announcing it ecstatically as if it’s the answer to a pop quiz question.
So when finally last Saturday I get to put my head on a pillow and declaring to myself, “I am now going to sleep - guilt-free,” it never felt better. It was heavenly. But that’s only half of the story.
My Saturday began at 12 am. It could not get any earlier than that. Sure enough, I was busy familiarizing myself with the balance sheet of a limited company. For the next 11 hours I was a nervous wreck. The next hour I was one pissed-off bloke because I felt betrayed by a person that I left a lot of confide in, but that’s another story. Only after the clock hit 1 pm I could breathe a sigh of relief. I felt like a rally driver. I tried my best but whether my efforts were enough, well, only time would tell. In the meantime, I decided to chill at Cipoi’s and Jedeh’s at Ampang Park. Sale was slow, except for one EON Executive lady. I still have time before 3 so I decided to float around the complex while Cipoi entertained his client. I managed to get myself a drink and a few pastries just to kill off time. When it was to time to pack up I asked Cipoi what’s the quickest way to KL Tower but he refused to answer me as a sign of protest because I wouldn’t disclose the full information regarding my upcoming high-tea session with a few girls at the tower. “I wouldn’t be the only boy there,” a statement I made to console a bit of innocence to me. I only receive a waive of the hand and an, “Aah,” clearly still refusing to believe my claim. But fortunately enough I didn’t make a wrong turn to KL Tower but I did, however, made a grievous mistake of parking Valerie at the foot of the hill. My perspiring back was absolute proof of that when I reached at the top. I was to attend a farewell party for Eefei who is leaving for Sweden in a few weeks to pursue a Master’s Degree. And a high-tea atop the KL Tower at its revolving restaurant to commemorate the occasion is a rather splendid idea, I must say. Surely enough, I enjoyed myself. The food was not that good however but imagine eating lamb casserole in an air-conditioned restaurant with a view of the Klang Valley constantly revolving around and you must acknowledge, it’s not something that you do everyday. It was truly a sight to behold. A great way to unwind and to put away terms such as ‘current liabilities’ and ‘director’s remuneration’ for awhile. The girls were of course gossiping all the way but this time I willingly shut myself up. Resistance is futile, as they might say. What have we learned from going out with more than 4 girls at a time, huh? But since you’re not planning on becoming the center of attention then everything is fine. Just take a sip of your drink, have another slice of pie and listen on who is getting married in the next few months even though you don’t know any of them personally or any of them at all. But while the high high-tea was pleasant and relaxing, the karaoke session soon after was totally the opposite, but fun nevertheless.
What can you exactly say about karaoke sessions? Apart from we really had fun by making an ass out of ourselves by singing ridiculous songs that we wouldn’t even dare to hum in public. There’s never a dire moment when it comes to karaoke-ing with your friends. Fun, yes. But what happens in the room, stays in the room.
By the end, some decided to head home while I took the chance to stop by at Acai’s and, as if I can avoid it, was made to watch Akademi Fantasia. I still could not understand on how people could get so emotionally involved with the show. People cry every time a contestant gets voted out but not when they’re sending those SMSs that costs RM0.65 each. 10 SMSs equals RM6.50. 20 SMSs would double that. All for the sake of someone who doesn’t even know your name. Pathetic would be an understatement. But I do find that Amylea girl rather interesting. I told people there’s something about that girl since the early shows but no one would listen. She will win the competition, I tell you. Remember, you read it here first. Oh my, even I’m beginning to start talking about ‘it’. Crap. Now, where was I? Oh yes, Acai’s house. Well, we all went home after that. But one interesting thing happened before that. Since Sasa left for home after the karaoke session, I had Regina Hayati as my passenger and the first thing that she said the moment she stepped into my car was that the car smelt like rotten fish. Then she asked me when was the last time I went to pasar tani with the car. What am I suppose to answer? Because in all natural truth, I never went to the pasar with this car. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I went to a pasar tani, period. But I can’t answer ‘yes’ because that would be lying but if I said ‘no’ then it shows how much of bad person I am in keeping my car clean. Or on how it smells on that matter. So I ended up avoiding from answering the question and changed the topic. But it was a tall tell sign that something needs to be done with Valerie. To receive such comments is like a wake-up call. I must say I never thought that Valerie’s interior would smell like rotten fish but when you bring passengers into your car, the least you can do is to make them feel comfortable. And to have the inside of your car smell like rotten fish, that’s bad. So, mental note – make Valerie interior smell better, for the sake of potential passengers. And air-fresheners would no longer cut it I’m afraid.
Oh anyway, after Acai it was time to conclude the night and I had the most peaceful sleep in weeks. But the best part happened on Sunday.
Entrée Sunday. Sunday was, well, Sunday. The day when you kick back, relax and the first thing you do when you wake up was to check your phone for messages. I had none that morning. Well, I guess nobody missed me that much yesterday. Nor hate me, for that matter. I have a big plan that day. A Harith Iskandar show. My maiden performance with the man. He’s having his final show that afternoon and guess what? As of 10 am, I have no tickets. Naturally, if it was the opening for Revenge of the Sith then I would panic but for a matinee theatre performance somewhere in Sentul, I was convinced I could get tickets before the show at 3. So I went for a drive right before noon, lost my way a bit around Sentul but I managed to find KLPAC. And surely enough, I managed to get tickets. 2nd row seats even. If it’s TGV or GSC, it would be murder but in theater sense, they’re quite the opposite so yeah, I was more than happy. A few hours later I returned to the sloping green mounds which was unbelievably right in the middle of Sentul and I enjoyed myself immensely. That man Harith is just brilliant. And to be in the company of people who can laugh at jokes about the National car and a certain Rafidah made it all worth while. For a guy who is used to watching Hollywood movies whilst growing up, I find the theatre incredibly honest and self-fulfilling. I would definitely return for another outing. In a newspaper excerpt, it quoted Harith Iskandar saying, “When a person leaves after seeing my show, I just hope he would say, ‘That was worth it,’. Well, in my case that’s exactly what happened. Mission accomplished there. I wish I could describe some of his humorous stories on how Malaysians are prone to do pointless things and on how guys handle break-ups but I can’t because words alone would not be enough. One has to watch the show to appreciate it.
Having high-tea at almost 500 metres above sea level, singing a horrendous rendition of the song Paling Comel and a vintage performance by one of the true stand-up comedian of the Malaysian scene, I’d say that’s one awesome way to celebrate an occasion, wouldn’t you say so?
I’ve read that 1000+ words blogs are not that good because readers would lose interest along the way. It is best to keep it shorter so readers can stop, read and click on. So I’ll end it here for this time around. Since I have nothing else to do for the most of my days, I’ll probably polish up on my blogging skills. So, next up we’ll be talking about August and Maya Karin’s smile.
Here I am swiveling in my big blue chair, listening to Malay hits by Misha Omar and Ning Baizura. Another morning after a very satisfying sleep into the night. A privilege I didn’t had the luxury to enjoy for the past week because of the MICPA Conversion Course final examination. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the 4 months tenure has been brought to a close. Signed-off with the tougher-than-I-expected exams. But I did my best so no regrets there. Unless, of course, I failed and I have everything to regret for. Apart from not getting enough sleep, burning the midnight oil and somehow managed to turn sleep, once again, into a state of mind.
It’s kind of amusing, you know, to find yourself so disoriented because of lack of sleep. I remember one day last week when I though to myself, “That Tru Calling show is really interesting. More so with that Eliza Dushku girl. I wonder if I can catch this week’s show. Now, when is it supposed to be on again? It was Tues…oh wait, Tuesday was just yesterday. That ‘last week’ show was actually on yesterday. The next show wouldn’t be until next week. Damn…,”. I could only end up giggling. For the whole of last week, it took me an average of 2 seconds to remember what date of that particular day. “It’s…..the 28th!”. Announcing it ecstatically as if it’s the answer to a pop quiz question.
So when finally last Saturday I get to put my head on a pillow and declaring to myself, “I am now going to sleep - guilt-free,” it never felt better. It was heavenly. But that’s only half of the story.
My Saturday began at 12 am. It could not get any earlier than that. Sure enough, I was busy familiarizing myself with the balance sheet of a limited company. For the next 11 hours I was a nervous wreck. The next hour I was one pissed-off bloke because I felt betrayed by a person that I left a lot of confide in, but that’s another story. Only after the clock hit 1 pm I could breathe a sigh of relief. I felt like a rally driver. I tried my best but whether my efforts were enough, well, only time would tell. In the meantime, I decided to chill at Cipoi’s and Jedeh’s at Ampang Park. Sale was slow, except for one EON Executive lady. I still have time before 3 so I decided to float around the complex while Cipoi entertained his client. I managed to get myself a drink and a few pastries just to kill off time. When it was to time to pack up I asked Cipoi what’s the quickest way to KL Tower but he refused to answer me as a sign of protest because I wouldn’t disclose the full information regarding my upcoming high-tea session with a few girls at the tower. “I wouldn’t be the only boy there,” a statement I made to console a bit of innocence to me. I only receive a waive of the hand and an, “Aah,” clearly still refusing to believe my claim. But fortunately enough I didn’t make a wrong turn to KL Tower but I did, however, made a grievous mistake of parking Valerie at the foot of the hill. My perspiring back was absolute proof of that when I reached at the top. I was to attend a farewell party for Eefei who is leaving for Sweden in a few weeks to pursue a Master’s Degree. And a high-tea atop the KL Tower at its revolving restaurant to commemorate the occasion is a rather splendid idea, I must say. Surely enough, I enjoyed myself. The food was not that good however but imagine eating lamb casserole in an air-conditioned restaurant with a view of the Klang Valley constantly revolving around and you must acknowledge, it’s not something that you do everyday. It was truly a sight to behold. A great way to unwind and to put away terms such as ‘current liabilities’ and ‘director’s remuneration’ for awhile. The girls were of course gossiping all the way but this time I willingly shut myself up. Resistance is futile, as they might say. What have we learned from going out with more than 4 girls at a time, huh? But since you’re not planning on becoming the center of attention then everything is fine. Just take a sip of your drink, have another slice of pie and listen on who is getting married in the next few months even though you don’t know any of them personally or any of them at all. But while the high high-tea was pleasant and relaxing, the karaoke session soon after was totally the opposite, but fun nevertheless.
What can you exactly say about karaoke sessions? Apart from we really had fun by making an ass out of ourselves by singing ridiculous songs that we wouldn’t even dare to hum in public. There’s never a dire moment when it comes to karaoke-ing with your friends. Fun, yes. But what happens in the room, stays in the room.
By the end, some decided to head home while I took the chance to stop by at Acai’s and, as if I can avoid it, was made to watch Akademi Fantasia. I still could not understand on how people could get so emotionally involved with the show. People cry every time a contestant gets voted out but not when they’re sending those SMSs that costs RM0.65 each. 10 SMSs equals RM6.50. 20 SMSs would double that. All for the sake of someone who doesn’t even know your name. Pathetic would be an understatement. But I do find that Amylea girl rather interesting. I told people there’s something about that girl since the early shows but no one would listen. She will win the competition, I tell you. Remember, you read it here first. Oh my, even I’m beginning to start talking about ‘it’. Crap. Now, where was I? Oh yes, Acai’s house. Well, we all went home after that. But one interesting thing happened before that. Since Sasa left for home after the karaoke session, I had Regina Hayati as my passenger and the first thing that she said the moment she stepped into my car was that the car smelt like rotten fish. Then she asked me when was the last time I went to pasar tani with the car. What am I suppose to answer? Because in all natural truth, I never went to the pasar with this car. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I went to a pasar tani, period. But I can’t answer ‘yes’ because that would be lying but if I said ‘no’ then it shows how much of bad person I am in keeping my car clean. Or on how it smells on that matter. So I ended up avoiding from answering the question and changed the topic. But it was a tall tell sign that something needs to be done with Valerie. To receive such comments is like a wake-up call. I must say I never thought that Valerie’s interior would smell like rotten fish but when you bring passengers into your car, the least you can do is to make them feel comfortable. And to have the inside of your car smell like rotten fish, that’s bad. So, mental note – make Valerie interior smell better, for the sake of potential passengers. And air-fresheners would no longer cut it I’m afraid.
Oh anyway, after Acai it was time to conclude the night and I had the most peaceful sleep in weeks. But the best part happened on Sunday.
Entrée Sunday. Sunday was, well, Sunday. The day when you kick back, relax and the first thing you do when you wake up was to check your phone for messages. I had none that morning. Well, I guess nobody missed me that much yesterday. Nor hate me, for that matter. I have a big plan that day. A Harith Iskandar show. My maiden performance with the man. He’s having his final show that afternoon and guess what? As of 10 am, I have no tickets. Naturally, if it was the opening for Revenge of the Sith then I would panic but for a matinee theatre performance somewhere in Sentul, I was convinced I could get tickets before the show at 3. So I went for a drive right before noon, lost my way a bit around Sentul but I managed to find KLPAC. And surely enough, I managed to get tickets. 2nd row seats even. If it’s TGV or GSC, it would be murder but in theater sense, they’re quite the opposite so yeah, I was more than happy. A few hours later I returned to the sloping green mounds which was unbelievably right in the middle of Sentul and I enjoyed myself immensely. That man Harith is just brilliant. And to be in the company of people who can laugh at jokes about the National car and a certain Rafidah made it all worth while. For a guy who is used to watching Hollywood movies whilst growing up, I find the theatre incredibly honest and self-fulfilling. I would definitely return for another outing. In a newspaper excerpt, it quoted Harith Iskandar saying, “When a person leaves after seeing my show, I just hope he would say, ‘That was worth it,’. Well, in my case that’s exactly what happened. Mission accomplished there. I wish I could describe some of his humorous stories on how Malaysians are prone to do pointless things and on how guys handle break-ups but I can’t because words alone would not be enough. One has to watch the show to appreciate it.
Having high-tea at almost 500 metres above sea level, singing a horrendous rendition of the song Paling Comel and a vintage performance by one of the true stand-up comedian of the Malaysian scene, I’d say that’s one awesome way to celebrate an occasion, wouldn’t you say so?
I’ve read that 1000+ words blogs are not that good because readers would lose interest along the way. It is best to keep it shorter so readers can stop, read and click on. So I’ll end it here for this time around. Since I have nothing else to do for the most of my days, I’ll probably polish up on my blogging skills. So, next up we’ll be talking about August and Maya Karin’s smile.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Lesson of the Day with The Boy
Truth: 3s a crowd
Myth: 1 boy + 4 girls = ‘fun’
I could not help think that I am getting old when I prefer to have a decent, intrinsic conversation rather than a brouhaha, laugh-out-loud menagerie. A few laydowns…
1 boy and 1 girl
Typical. As common as a date can ever be. Simple, straightforward, can only be ruined if any of the party chooses to be it so. Apart from that, nothing unusual.
1 boy and 2 girl
Or more popularly known as the ‘threesome’. Every boy and man’s fantasy. Being so, when a man is actually presented with such a giftous circumstance (should he be lucky enough), it is likely he is able to handle it. Enjoying twice as much and equivocally, double the efforts, of course.
1 boy and 3 girls
Borderline. Fine line between momentous and disastrous. Luckily, I managed it but barely. Gaining constant attention is virtually impossible. When you do, use it well. Manageable but difficult to balance. A piece of advice, be wary of who your three ladies are. Pick the wrong combination and you lost the battle even before it starts. But can be very impressive from crowd’s point of view. 1 boy, 3 girls, what’s not to be impressed?
1 boy and 4 girls
Bad idea. Plain and simple. No matter how beautiful they are it will not be worth it for one good reason, you will be voiced out. Literally. It would take one very brave and articulate man to even mould into the group. If you’re not, don’t even dare. And it won’t make a good impression because people will know you’re just tagging along for the ride.
Lesson for the day: Perception can be very deceiving. Be careful for what you wish for. And always have a backup plan (for self-morale and optimism). Don't follow me because I learnt it the hard and hurtful way.
Myth: 1 boy + 4 girls = ‘fun’
I could not help think that I am getting old when I prefer to have a decent, intrinsic conversation rather than a brouhaha, laugh-out-loud menagerie. A few laydowns…
1 boy and 1 girl
Typical. As common as a date can ever be. Simple, straightforward, can only be ruined if any of the party chooses to be it so. Apart from that, nothing unusual.
1 boy and 2 girl
Or more popularly known as the ‘threesome’. Every boy and man’s fantasy. Being so, when a man is actually presented with such a giftous circumstance (should he be lucky enough), it is likely he is able to handle it. Enjoying twice as much and equivocally, double the efforts, of course.
1 boy and 3 girls
Borderline. Fine line between momentous and disastrous. Luckily, I managed it but barely. Gaining constant attention is virtually impossible. When you do, use it well. Manageable but difficult to balance. A piece of advice, be wary of who your three ladies are. Pick the wrong combination and you lost the battle even before it starts. But can be very impressive from crowd’s point of view. 1 boy, 3 girls, what’s not to be impressed?
1 boy and 4 girls
Bad idea. Plain and simple. No matter how beautiful they are it will not be worth it for one good reason, you will be voiced out. Literally. It would take one very brave and articulate man to even mould into the group. If you’re not, don’t even dare. And it won’t make a good impression because people will know you’re just tagging along for the ride.
Lesson for the day: Perception can be very deceiving. Be careful for what you wish for. And always have a backup plan (for self-morale and optimism). Don't follow me because I learnt it the hard and hurtful way.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
An Evening with Ning
To answer your question, yes, I am referring to Ning Baizura. Come on, how many Nings do you know in your life anyway? And no, I am not lying. I DID have an evening with her yesterday. Just not in the same manner I had with the adorable Ity and the fashionista, Ara. She was on stage, doing what she does best – singing, and I had to share her, with a hundred or so other people in the auditorium. But, it was not the less endearing, to say the least. Did I enjoy it? Pretty much so, yes. If not, then I wouldn’t be writing about it, wouldn’t I?
Strange thing is, it was the first live performance by a local artist that I have attended to, since a very long time. The last time, now it took me quite some time to recall this but the last time I went to see a local artist performed live was Too Phat. When they were opening for Linkin Park a while back. Now when was that exactly? Probably more than a year ago. God, that’s bloody long.
So, anyway, like I said, I really enjoyed it. Powerful, captivating, enchanting. Not that I expected anything less. Well, even so, let’s not take any credit away from Zainal Abidin. He was performing too last night and he still got that magnificent voice of his.
Apart from the burnt out candle and a yellow, heart-shaped placard bearing the words ‘I love (in the shape of a heart) Zainal’, I find myself being quite fond of Ning. But I cannot say the same about Zainal though, unfortunately. 13 years ago then yes but now, let’s just say that my musical taste had evolved. However I do like Puteri and was completely blown away on how he rendered Suraya. But, Ning, oh God, she’s just fantastic. Though I must say she does look a bit thinner I would’ve imagined. I certainly like her coming-of-age look, nowadays. Elegant, sophisticated, long gone the bad girl image of the industry she once portrayed. And not to mention the big 3-0. Yes, she is. Last June. 28th. She’s been around that long. Quite amazing. One wouldn’t expect if you’re thrown away be her 17-year-old schoolgirl like comments such as, “OK, tak?” and “Suka tak lagu tu?” after some songs, as if to please her first ever audience. But we all know what an established singer she is.
The point is, I really enjoyed myself last night. I have to thank my darling Sasa for that. Always comes up with the loveliest surprises. In a totally unrelated news, my blog has reached 1000 hits! Hooray! Still, that is a long way to match the controversial Sarong Party Girl Blog which, last time I checked, recorded more than a million hits. A million I tell you. That is like CNN or Bloomberg websites. You should try giving that blog a look you know. I think it’s pretty good. Yes, I know she posted naked pictures of herself on it but I am not as daft to promote based on that factor alone. Unless you are a ‘kolot’ minded Malaysian, you will realize there is an artistic value behind those pictures. And chances are those pictures are not readily viewable on the site (gotten banned or something) but if you know how to fiddle around with that mouse of yours, then you wouldn’t have trouble navigating your way around those minor obstacles. Oh, I seemed to have made a mistake, it is now 2 million hits. 2 bloody million hits. What on Earth’s name…
Oh, here’s the link, http://sarongpartygirl.blogspot.com/ if you may.
Change of topic. Remember that movie counter girl I was talking about? Of course you remember. Well, I think it will be irrational to pursue that dream at the moment. The sole reason being I am on study leave currently for my coming do-or-die exam next week. I already wasted enough time watching Ning last night and War of the Worlds last Monday. I couldn’t afford to waste any more. Not at the price of losing flunking my exam. Even at the expense of potentially lovely date with a gorgeous girl, who I would die to caress her soft, raspberry-colored lips my fingertips with.
Words. For now, they are merely just words. In two weeks time, maybe something more meaningful. In the meantime, nothing more.
For a person whom I do not know the name of, and the only words I uttered to her were just “War of the Worlds” and “11.30”, I am becoming rather obsessive. Oh I need to get out more. Meet more people. Meet more women. Then I wouldn’t be having these disturbing thoughts. Sadly though, beautiful women are hard to come by these days. And more sadly, most of them ended up with men who don’t deserve them. It’s quite tragic. All those splendour left unappreciated. Oh how would I love to call someone right now and ask for a drink across town. But time is all too envy. Decisions, decisions…
Strange thing is, it was the first live performance by a local artist that I have attended to, since a very long time. The last time, now it took me quite some time to recall this but the last time I went to see a local artist performed live was Too Phat. When they were opening for Linkin Park a while back. Now when was that exactly? Probably more than a year ago. God, that’s bloody long.
So, anyway, like I said, I really enjoyed it. Powerful, captivating, enchanting. Not that I expected anything less. Well, even so, let’s not take any credit away from Zainal Abidin. He was performing too last night and he still got that magnificent voice of his.
Apart from the burnt out candle and a yellow, heart-shaped placard bearing the words ‘I love (in the shape of a heart) Zainal’, I find myself being quite fond of Ning. But I cannot say the same about Zainal though, unfortunately. 13 years ago then yes but now, let’s just say that my musical taste had evolved. However I do like Puteri and was completely blown away on how he rendered Suraya. But, Ning, oh God, she’s just fantastic. Though I must say she does look a bit thinner I would’ve imagined. I certainly like her coming-of-age look, nowadays. Elegant, sophisticated, long gone the bad girl image of the industry she once portrayed. And not to mention the big 3-0. Yes, she is. Last June. 28th. She’s been around that long. Quite amazing. One wouldn’t expect if you’re thrown away be her 17-year-old schoolgirl like comments such as, “OK, tak?” and “Suka tak lagu tu?” after some songs, as if to please her first ever audience. But we all know what an established singer she is.
The point is, I really enjoyed myself last night. I have to thank my darling Sasa for that. Always comes up with the loveliest surprises. In a totally unrelated news, my blog has reached 1000 hits! Hooray! Still, that is a long way to match the controversial Sarong Party Girl Blog which, last time I checked, recorded more than a million hits. A million I tell you. That is like CNN or Bloomberg websites. You should try giving that blog a look you know. I think it’s pretty good. Yes, I know she posted naked pictures of herself on it but I am not as daft to promote based on that factor alone. Unless you are a ‘kolot’ minded Malaysian, you will realize there is an artistic value behind those pictures. And chances are those pictures are not readily viewable on the site (gotten banned or something) but if you know how to fiddle around with that mouse of yours, then you wouldn’t have trouble navigating your way around those minor obstacles. Oh, I seemed to have made a mistake, it is now 2 million hits. 2 bloody million hits. What on Earth’s name…
Oh, here’s the link, http://sarongpartygirl.blogspot.com/ if you may.
Change of topic. Remember that movie counter girl I was talking about? Of course you remember. Well, I think it will be irrational to pursue that dream at the moment. The sole reason being I am on study leave currently for my coming do-or-die exam next week. I already wasted enough time watching Ning last night and War of the Worlds last Monday. I couldn’t afford to waste any more. Not at the price of losing flunking my exam. Even at the expense of potentially lovely date with a gorgeous girl, who I would die to caress her soft, raspberry-colored lips my fingertips with.
Words. For now, they are merely just words. In two weeks time, maybe something more meaningful. In the meantime, nothing more.
For a person whom I do not know the name of, and the only words I uttered to her were just “War of the Worlds” and “11.30”, I am becoming rather obsessive. Oh I need to get out more. Meet more people. Meet more women. Then I wouldn’t be having these disturbing thoughts. Sadly though, beautiful women are hard to come by these days. And more sadly, most of them ended up with men who don’t deserve them. It’s quite tragic. All those splendour left unappreciated. Oh how would I love to call someone right now and ask for a drink across town. But time is all too envy. Decisions, decisions…
Monday, July 18, 2005
Liberated
It’s nice to know there are people out there who are actually concerned about my well-being. I could do no more than express my heartfelt gratitude. I just hope it suffices. Well, my blood test result came back and, unsurprisingly, I had high concentration of uric acid in my blood stream. And on top of that my cholesterol level was also high. I guess that would daftly confirm that I was a victim of gout and not to mention obesity. Heh, ‘victim’, as if it was not self inflicted. But anyway, all this is just a dose of reality check, I suppose. Well, hello, it’s not as if I have LL Cool J’s physique. More like Kevin James’, as you may. All this while it’s more like the concept of ‘innocent-until-proven-guilty’ for me. Now, with those sheets of paper listing the break down of my blood particles, it’s hard evidence of how unhealthy I am. Well, there’s no escaping it now. I have to watch what I consume now, en forth. Darn.
And because of my immobility, I missed two very interesting shows this past weekend. Jit Happens and Shelley Leong. Two talented artists in their own right. One, a cult figure in the stage-performing world when it comes to comedy and the other, a brilliant songstress. Both ended their respective performances yesterday and who knows when their next show will come. Maybe next month, or maybe next year. Whenever it is, all the aggravating thought left me pretty bitter this morning.
But fret not, fellow friends, as I am not all full of disappointments and agony. For the good news is that, as of today, I am almost cured of the wretched illness of gout. And for that, I no longer walk in a funny way. My rhythm has become less funnier by the day. No more pain. No more throbbing. And certainly, no more cruel jokes.
And what better way to celebrate than to grab those car keys and abscond from my solace. Sounds a bit too dramatic, doesn’t it? In truth I just went to see a movie. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to say that I have seen the movie War of the Worlds! And it scared the living wits out of me. How could people say Ju-On was scary? That was comedy to me. But this, oh my, this actually made my heart pounding and my hands gripping the armrests. Some people, and even my friends, thinks it’s absurd but hostile alien-beings trying to take over the world seems a very frightening thought to me. However, it’s not much about the three-legged creatures that I most want to talk about. It’s about a girl. Much prettier than those tripods and, would you believe it, much more understandable.
She was the, uh, oh I don’t know what her job title is but when you line up to buy movie tickets at the counter, they are the people who sell you those tickets. The people at the counters, or whatever you may call them. Anyway, she’s one of them and my goodness was she adorable. I couldn’t concentrate when I was purchasing those tickets from her because I was so busy admiring her beauty. As I watched her punching in keys on her keyboard, I noticed two things. One, she has puffy cheeks and two, how elegantly the way her hair fell across her forehead. As I walked away, I turned around to get one more look just to be certain. Yes, she is adorable. No mistake about that. So, what now? Well, I was planning to do a double-header and watch Fantastic Four soon after but after having that chance encounter, I’ll postpone it until tomorrow. For when I’ll come again, buy the tickets and ask her out for a drink. Yes, I’ve decided to skip that earlier step of asking my female friends on what they think of Frank Abignale Jr’s line and actually experimenting it myself. I just need to dress nicer come tomorrow and add a little bit of charm. Oh this should be exciting, wouldn’t it? I just hope she works tomorrow, among my other worries. If everything works according to plan, the next entry should be a rather interesting one, wouldn’t you think?
And because of my immobility, I missed two very interesting shows this past weekend. Jit Happens and Shelley Leong. Two talented artists in their own right. One, a cult figure in the stage-performing world when it comes to comedy and the other, a brilliant songstress. Both ended their respective performances yesterday and who knows when their next show will come. Maybe next month, or maybe next year. Whenever it is, all the aggravating thought left me pretty bitter this morning.
But fret not, fellow friends, as I am not all full of disappointments and agony. For the good news is that, as of today, I am almost cured of the wretched illness of gout. And for that, I no longer walk in a funny way. My rhythm has become less funnier by the day. No more pain. No more throbbing. And certainly, no more cruel jokes.
And what better way to celebrate than to grab those car keys and abscond from my solace. Sounds a bit too dramatic, doesn’t it? In truth I just went to see a movie. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to say that I have seen the movie War of the Worlds! And it scared the living wits out of me. How could people say Ju-On was scary? That was comedy to me. But this, oh my, this actually made my heart pounding and my hands gripping the armrests. Some people, and even my friends, thinks it’s absurd but hostile alien-beings trying to take over the world seems a very frightening thought to me. However, it’s not much about the three-legged creatures that I most want to talk about. It’s about a girl. Much prettier than those tripods and, would you believe it, much more understandable.
She was the, uh, oh I don’t know what her job title is but when you line up to buy movie tickets at the counter, they are the people who sell you those tickets. The people at the counters, or whatever you may call them. Anyway, she’s one of them and my goodness was she adorable. I couldn’t concentrate when I was purchasing those tickets from her because I was so busy admiring her beauty. As I watched her punching in keys on her keyboard, I noticed two things. One, she has puffy cheeks and two, how elegantly the way her hair fell across her forehead. As I walked away, I turned around to get one more look just to be certain. Yes, she is adorable. No mistake about that. So, what now? Well, I was planning to do a double-header and watch Fantastic Four soon after but after having that chance encounter, I’ll postpone it until tomorrow. For when I’ll come again, buy the tickets and ask her out for a drink. Yes, I’ve decided to skip that earlier step of asking my female friends on what they think of Frank Abignale Jr’s line and actually experimenting it myself. I just need to dress nicer come tomorrow and add a little bit of charm. Oh this should be exciting, wouldn’t it? I just hope she works tomorrow, among my other worries. If everything works according to plan, the next entry should be a rather interesting one, wouldn’t you think?
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