WHAT'S IN A NAME?

Mother Theresa

Bumped into an old friend again in KLCC yesterday after my gym session. I don’t know what’s with me these days that I kept on seeing some long lost friends whom I didn’t think I would meet them again or rather not meet. I guess this is why they say this is such a small world.

Whispering. Oh no… don’t call me that name please.

James Daniel: Eh! Hi Theresa!!

Self: Oh, Hello, James.

James Daniel was my ex church mate. I mean – I no longer go to his church, and I guess he must have changed church too, since the church had moved to Jalan Raja Laut or Chow Kit Road, (above all places!) umpteenth years ago. The last thing I heard from the church was, two members’ bags got snatched in broad daylight.

Nice chap. He helped me with my Physics (the Science subject) when I was in Form 4 for free.

Okay. So…. Theresa used to be my name in church. I chose the name because of its meaning – noble.

Dad gave us Christian names when we were much younger and we adopted them without much thinking. Saja – nak glamer. (Translation: Just for the heck of it. It’s for glamour). Thank heavens (1ooXX) the names are not in our Identity Cards. You will find out soon.

Sister was named Susan and Brother was named Watson. He decided to change his name to Steven when he realized that “W” cannot go along well with our surname initial, which is a “C”.

Mine has a long history of name changing process. My sis said I changed my mine so often that I am behaving like the Government.

Kettleling (dad didn’t know how to spell Catherine then), Kathryn (Yes- Kat. I almost end up with the same name as you), Penny, Theresa then to Gina.

I couldn’t recall the reasons I changed from the Kathryn till Penny. (To change Kettleling is bloody damn obvious.) My good friend, Cynthia, her grandma is given “Theresa” as her new baptism name. Finding it difficult to pronounce, she kept on saying that this is a garbage name. (No offence to Theresas out there – and God bless Mother Theresa's soul. May she rests in peace.) In Cantonese, it sounds like “Tiau Lap Sap” (Translation: Taking the garbage out). I changed mine in a jiffy.

I couldn’t decide what to name myself till this name accidentally got stuck on me.

I started IRC-ing 6 years ago, with my brother’s nickname: Gin Tonic. Not wanting people to know my Chinese name – it is difficult to pronounce anyway, I just introduce myself Gin. Then, a simple evolution theory took its course, from Gin to Gina.

There you have it. Even with Gina – there have been numerous nicknames derived out of it, much worse compare to garbage Theresa… which I think, it would be prudent to keep it (them) to myself.

No wonder parents with newborn babies find it so hard to name their kids. It will affect them a lifetime.

(Warning for parents who accidentally named their kid “Soy Sauce”).

INVESTMENT TIPS

Rest In Peace

Bumped into an old IRC friend yesterday night. We were talking about plans for the future. With the inflation and sky rocketing increase in medical expenses, we need to have a proper planning for old age. Even if you have children of your own, you can’t possibly expect them to take care of you. Heck! I can’t even afford to take care of my parents NOW.

[Self] with the inflation
[Self] and the escalating medical costs
[Self] one can never get enough of insurance
[Self] some more i would die a lonely old woman

[Uncle Lim] aikks why u say tht

[Self] so better save more
[Self] i KNOW lah
[Self] the females in my family are cursed
[Self] they either marry the wrong men or die a spinster

[Uncle Lim] save for who ??

[Self] save more for old folks home
[Self] a nursing home
[Self] or maybe a grand funeral
[Self] also costs to hire people to cry in my funeral

[Uncle Lim] hmmmm buy more than 1 plot
[Uncle Lim] by the time it will more than pay for ur own plot

[Self] i think i would go for incineration
[Self] then if no money to buy a plot
[Self] even if it is just a small space in a temple

[Uncle Lim] its about the same

[Self] then, i would like my ashes to be scattered in pulau perhentian

[Uncle Lim] smaller space .. also cost a lot
[Uncle Lim] now the cheapest is just the plague in the pagoda

[Self] really?
[Self] why are you so ... well versed?
[Self] are u an undertaker?

[Uncle Lim] i've gone and look at some plots

[Self] uhm.. what for?

[Uncle Lim] if i had bought ... would be a rich man by now

[Self] oh...
[Self] investments!
[Self] look at graveyard!

[Uncle Lim] i should have bought like 10 plots when it was RM8000 per plot

[Self] yeah
[Self]now it is like... 30k per lot

[Uncle Lim] those same plots today is like RM30000 and going higher each year

[Self] with no feng shui consultation some more!!
[Self] yeah!
[Self] i think i shud buy two plots!

[Uncle Lim] yups thts what i said
[Uncle Lim] it will pay for ur own plot at the end

[Self] correct
[Self] why wouldnt anyone think of this before?
[Self] this is damn interesting
[Self] where are you planning to buy yours?

[Uncle Lim] well even at rm30k .. its now not even available

Sigh. Not even the dead are spared.

They say, there are two certain things in life – death and taxes.

I would like to add one more – inflation.

HEALING TIME

Fixing A Broken Heart

It's funny how you tend to bump into something so coincidental that you wish it would come in alternate forms; such as great luck to strike lottery?

Do you notice, when you hurt the right toe, people would keep stepping onto it? Or when you get a Hepatitis B jab on your left arm, and when friends say hello, they would tap - hard, exactly on the same painful spot, unintentionally?

This is the way I see things at this moment. I bumped into a blog: Note to Self. Catchy post title: Worst Songs to Listen to when Heartbroken. Call me sensitive. I felt a connection. Ironic.

Then.. I continued reading..

This particular paragraph brought tears to my eyes:

Excerpts from Note to Self (I hope she doesn't mind)

"Do you really know what it means to love someone, Femme?"

"Yeah, sure...you know, when you're palms get all sweaty when you see that person, and you feel like you can't breathe when you're around him. What's not to know?"

"No Femme. To love someone means wanting whatever is best for the person you love. It means doing everything you can possibly do to make her happy and support her through everything she goes through, stand aside when she falls in love with your best friend, and hold her hand when she cries about him. That, Femme, is what it means to love someone."

Ooo.. strong message - STAND ASIDE.

So, I am linking her blog, here! :)

I chose not to wallow in self pity. I'll be A-ok.

Hang in there, Femme. May the force be with you.

HOLDING ON TO A BROKEN HEART

Holding on to a Broken Heart

Today, I am depressed. Sorry. I don’t blog whenever I am depressed. It is just plain … depressing. (Creativity tends to stump too when you are depressed)

People say love is blind. To me, love is bloody damn complicated.

I was on a roller coaster ride at this very moment. Usually I don’t show it. Rarely, good friends would notice. Binging is my remedy for depression, or I tend to be aloof. I don’t share much of my feelings, even to the closest of friends. I would tell them – in some hilarious ways to camouflage the actual hurt that I am feeling. Occasionally, I would breakdown in tears when the things cooped up far too long inside. But right after that, I would be okay. I believe in the "glass being half full rather than half empty" shit.

Today, after a gruesome workout in Body Step class, I turned to TFF for a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. Apparently, she was totally burnt out. I think she would slip into a comatose if I dragged her along and forced her listen to my melodramatic stories over a cup of Strawberry and Cream Frappucino.

So, I decided to take a walk (hike) in KLCC – wandering aimlessly, thinking of who I could talk to, who would listen to all my petty stuffs without showing signs of disgust. It was almost 10 pm, I couldn’t think of anyone.

I hit back home with my stereo on Mix.fm, full blast.

9.53 pm.

It is weird because, sometimes, you listen to the songs on the radio without giving much thought. But tonight, I listened. I listened to every damn word in the songs played.

I was rather surprised that the songs were actually talking to me, in times of my greatest despair... when I couldn’t think of anyone to annoy. I don’t even have to pay for coffee. Or trying mighty hard to control myself from breaking down in public.

Heck – I ran past a red light without stopping (again) and,in less than 3 seconds, the radio went:

Kid on radio : Red – Kiiiiihhhhhhh. Stop.

Man on radio: If a kid knows that red is for stop, doesn’t it make an adult look silly if they don’t?

(Something to that effect)

Bummer!

Then the songs reflecting my innermost feelings were on air. It was as if I were talking to a friend-in-need: (and in the exact order too! Creepy!)

The Assessment Talk: How deep is your love? by Bee Gees

How deep is your love, how deep is your love?
I really mean to learn
Cause we're living in a world of fools
Breaking us down when they all should let us be
We belong to you and me.

I believe in you
You know the door to my very soul.
You're the light in my deepest darkest hour
You're my saviour when I fall

And you may not think I care for you
When you know down inside that I really do
and it's me you need to show
How deep is your love?

The Reminiscing Talk: Sweetest Days by Vanessa Williams

All the while, life is rushing by us
Hold it now and don't let go
These are the days
The sweetest days we'll know

So we'll whisper a dream here in the darkness
Watching the stars till they're gone
And then even the memories have all faded away
These days go on and on

Listen now, you can hear our heartbeat
Hold me now and don't let go
These are the days
Every day is the sweetest day we'll know

These are the days
The sweetest days we'll know

The Agony Talk: Please forgive me by Bryan Adams

Please forgive me - I know not what I do
Please forgive me - I can't stop lovin' you
Don't deny me - this pain I'm going through
Please forgive me - if I need ya like I do
Please believe me - the way I say is true
Please forgive me - I can't stop lovin' you

The Denial Talk: It’s my life by Talk Talk

Funny how I find myself
in love with you
If I could buy my reasoning
I'd pay to lose

One half won't do

I've asked myself
How much do you
commit yourself?

It's my life
Don't you forget
It's my life
It never ends (It never ends)

Funny how I blind myself
I never knew
If I was sometimes played upon
Afraid to lose

I'd tell myself
what good you do
Convince myself

It's my life
Don't you forget
It's my life
It never ends

The Acceptance Talk: Some old song, by some Frankie guy. Didn’t get his name. Ferry in your mercy?

I don’t know the lyrics.. but the first sentence is good enough.

LIFE GOES ON.

It's a miracle. I get my problem solved with 5 songs.

P.S. I couldn't make up my mind about the title of this post, so I asked my Wise Friend 648 times until he was so damn pissed.

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY

Even without going out for supper with the Supper Gang, the Monk would sometimes keep me posted on what they have discussed. It had been this way since we were back in Form 4, where he was the Chinese Society Secretary and I was the Vice Secretary. (I wrote minutes in Malay)

Mr Curly insisted that men and women could not be MERELY friends.

Koon and the Monk were shocked upon hearing this and they totally disagreed with Mr Curly.

Koon is a very sociable person. He could blend in any Cantonese or Mandarin speaking crowd without feeling awkward. The Monk on the other hand – as his name suggested, insisted he does not (listen first) have any intention of breaching his vow of celibacy, so, being just friends with ladies would not post any problems to him. Mr Curly.. well, he probably has an attitude problem. Kit is always quiet when the conversation turns argumentative.

What do you think? Can a man and a woman be merely friends?


1989 - When Harry Met Sally

In When Harry Met Sally, Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan, had set a precedent that man and woman CANNOT be merely friends.

Love Story One

James and Mae were merely friends in the beginning. They had their own relationship problems (then) and found comfort confiding in each other. They ended up marrying, blessed with a baby boy.

Love Story Two

Betty Boo and Three-Inch-Nail were classmates since primary. Betty Boo swore to us in our secret girls gathering in school and said she wouldn’t marry someone who is only taller than her by one inch. They ended up marrying with a two year old daughter.

Love Story Three

My ex room-mate (no – not the lesbian), Snooker-Table-Leg insisted that Ah Fook is her best friend and she wouldn’t trade him for the world. After going through a trauma of Ah Fook going to Singapore and went missing for about 9 months (it was believed he was hypnotized), SGL realized she couldn’t live without him. They ended up being together for 6 years now.

Need I even say more?

There are examples too of man and woman remain merely friends all these years.

Platonic One

James and I are merely friends (Still) – pre and post-Mae. We went out together most of the time, with the entire marquis group. A psycho chick from Canada (Also an IRC friend) was so jealous of our platonic friendship and kept on insisting that there ought to be more than that. She had hots for James, you see. (That is before she had a look at him).

She flew all the way from Canada to Malaysia and had a look at me (she felt threatened by me – *ahaks*) before jumping into any conclusion.

Platonic Two

Dennis aka Yabba and Tan, my former colleagues, are the best platonic boyfriends one could ever have. In the Taman Negara trip last year, both of them took good care of me, ensuring I didn’t get stucked while negotating the holes while caving, waited for me when the rest of the group left me behind during our hiking trip, and ensuring that I didn’t get eaten by the wild boars in the night jungle tracking.

Platonic Three

I went to Perhentian with 3 male friends, slept together in the same room, and nothing happened. (The problem of lacking sex appeal on my part is another issue altogether).

Some of my girlfriends prefer confiding in their male friends with the problems as they proved to be more trust worthy. The chances of the boys spreading their problems like juicy gossip stories would be minimal as compared to the girls. Boys do not get jealous when you are promoted or get a pay raise – provided they are not your real boyfriends (as in lovers/husbands). Boys could be your drinking buddy to wash away your sorrow when you are in emotional distress. Men give you more practical advice, minus the emotional hiccups or extreme feminist views (eg. The overuse “All men are bastards” – even if the breakup is entirely your fault).

Of course, one can’t deny the fact certain friendships would flourish into relationships. Some lasted, some didn’t. We just need to ask ourselves, is the risk worth taking?

I feel that being a part of someone’s life is truly a blessing, even if it is impermanent, and irregardless how the friendship might evolve – be it marital bliss or merely friends. What matter most is the sense of respect for the opposite sexes’ decision and pray to God for strength, courage and wisdom that either side would be able to accept things they couldn’t change.

Click here (Sep 20, 2004) to read a post of a fellow blogger who took it quite bad when a guy friend rejected her. (Read the second last para in caps)

Sista, I feel for you.

TUCK A PLUCK PLUCK

The Trio in Pluck

What happens when great music falls into the hands of talented goofs? You get Pluck, that’s what. Pluck is three classical musicians determined to be really quite silly, who play, sing, and dance from Bach to the Beatles. Venue: The Actors Studio, Bangsar Shopping Centre, KL. Starts today and runs till Sept 19, at 8pm; 3pm shows on Saturdays and Sundays only. Box Office: 03-2094 0400 /1400; Tickets: RM52 and RM42 (for children 12 and below).

It was a fun watch alright.

I went to Actors Studio for the first time and I am sure it won’t be my last. :)

The tickets were a bit too pricey for ordinary salary earner such as myself. This musical caters more towards the high end people like the expatriates. It was not surprising that 50% of the audience, consisted of Mat Sallehs and the rest, the rich Bangsar people. Or was it due to the majority of typical Malaysians’ mentality of not paying more than RM5 for entertainment? This time, it is on Dimples (The lost sheep), for not remembering how to get home… twice.

I enjoyed the show mostly because I was with good company; two of my very good friends, Dimples and WY.

For first timers, it was rather intimidating initially. When I read the terms and conditions behind the tickets, requested audience to wear smart casuals, i.e. forbidding round neck t shirts, jeans, revealing clothes.. etc, I prayed that WY did not turn up wearing jeans and revealing top to this Sunday Matinee. (Both of us are first timers). Worrying over nothing, I could say. Those Mat Sallehs couldn’t be bothered and most of the children thronged in with their round neck shirts and slippers.

We were entertained by classical music ranging from Bach to Vivaldi, the usual subtle English humor which I always find irresistibly sexy, talented string players (hence, the show called Pluck), and the sporting participation from the audience which ought to be applauded.

Generally, it was an enjoyable Sunday afternoon outing.

We had tea cum dinner at Chilli’s Grill&Bar, and yakked for hours, despite the double standard treatment. One thing about Bangsar is, they only aim to please the foreigners, and left the locals to figure out where to get their own forks and spoons or servettes. And they wonder why we never tip them. I hate Bangsar. It is so bloody pretentious.

It is good to join some regular friends for a change - unlike the group of friends I have been with for the past few weeks – the Demented Supper Gang, the Homosexuals and the Middle Aged. Don’t get me wrong. They are just as interesting and nice to be with.

And yes.. we missed a turn while sending Dimples back. (I'm convinced Dimples is jinxed!)

However, we managed to get to her house hassle free, compared to the two times when we depended on two GUYS to lead the way. What is it with men and the principles of never asking for direction?


Passionate Pluck

HARI INI DALAM SEJARAH

The supper gang again.. this is getting routinous.

Earlier, I dropped two mooncakes at the Monk’s house, to spare myself from being tormented for discrimination – I did not buy for the Demented Duo and Mr Curly. I found out that the Monk’s family is also a school of piranhas. In less than 5 minutes, they devoured the Tiramisu and Black Pearl of Harmony from Baker’s Cottage. Didn’t know the nephews would be in.

Likewise, my family before my sister became anorexic, we would eat everything in sight.


Mooncakes

Black Pearl of Harmony


Tiramisu#

# Simply yummy. Highly Recommended.

That aside… despite the many gorgeous guys to ogle at in the new Survivor Season 9, I went to ritual Friday supper with the gang.

Since all of us were chatting randomly* (Topics from tax to women from China, masseurs, accounting, acupuncture, Buddhism, an estranged friend planning to flee the country for owing the loan sharks money (favorite topic), highlight of the week, etc), we decided to synchronize our topic to old times, so everyone could contribute whatever they remembered from the past.

*The Monk and I do not know anything about accounting and ladies from China, Curly would blush whenever a sex topic cropped up, Koon could basically talk about any topics, and Kit would occasionally slip into a meditation mode (closes his eyes)when the conversation gets too petty for his likings.

It all started when Curly mentioned that he saw Mrs Teoh, who taught Accounting back in Form 4&5. I have no inkling of who she was as I was from Science class. We shared a common Add Math teacher though, Mr Chang.

Mr Chang is a bachelor in his late 40s. He is a man of small stature and he has an unassuming sense of humor.

The boys burst out laughing, reminiscing a particular episode where Mr Chang commented that Curly looked sebijik (Broken Malay: exactly) like a monkey when he (Curly) took off his t-shirt after PE and exposed his bags of bones shamelessly in class.

Curly retorted by saying that Mr Chang’s physical built ain’t that impressive either.

Mr Chang nonchalantly replied, “At least I don’t show my body to public.” Then, he (Mr Chang) broke into a sly snigger while the entire classroom roared in laughter.

They were surprised that I kept in touch with him for four years after we left school. My brother and his friends had created a good repo with him and we went to his house for four consecutive Christmases till everyone is busy with their own agendas.

Every school has a legendary beauty in their year. As for Class of ‘93, Betty Boo^ (or I would prefer, Best B*tch - "BB") was the most -talked -about girl in school. She is a petite girl with big eyes, fair, a dancer, Chinese Society President, brainy, my classmate etc. She’s got almost everything that a girl would want.. except, she doesn’t have big boobs. God is fair… at times.


Betty Boo

The Monk, Curly, and some of the males back in school admitted that they simultaneously had a huge crush on her. Koon and Kit reserved their comments. I bet they liked her too. Men are all the same. All of them go for looks, personality is secondary. How shallow.

I reminded the Monk that BB actually did consider going steady with him if it’s not for his lack of testerones hormones. He was not so man-ish then.

BB is now married with a two year old daughter. Her husband is her childhood friend, who was also my classmate.

And, last but not least, they spoke fondly of Lai Ma, a plump girl with the biggest set of bosoms in school. The boys really enjoyed PE classes. Whenever there’s jumping, skipping or doing laps in the field, the boys would squat under the trees and watch from afar, the milky, dreamy set of melons swinging in action, which would put the opening trailer of Baywatch to shame.

Lai Ma, is now a very successful tuition teacher (despite getting a Grade 2 cert for SPM – and it is NOT due to no credit in BM), drives an Altis, has a boyfriend who is tall and huge – according to Koon and Kit. Must be those set of enticing bosom. ( Or I am just green with envy?)

And Lai Ma also had a HUGE crush on the Monk.

The Monk cringed at the thought that the girls that he attracted were all horizontally challenged. He liken himself to Adam Cheng. (A Hong Kong struggling actor (then)who piggy backed on his famous yet fat wife, Lydia Shum to fame). I was slightly offended.

Talking about old times is sure fun. It brings you down the memory of innocent adolescence. We did not have the luxury of mobile phones, internet, PS II, etc, then.

Despite all these, the very memories of our simple youth would forever remain a good keepsake in our hearts.

SAVED BY THE RAIN

Lazy bugs had invaded my body. I haven’t gone to the gym in ages – despite pledging a commitment of at least three times a week. I went to four sessions of gym - in total, last month. This is not very encouraging.

Somehow, motivation is eroding subconsciously – I have yet to figure out what is going on. Maybe I am just plain lazy. However, the wet weather these days, miraculously work in favor for me. I have been saved by the rain.

With the heavy downpour right after 5 pm, I do not intend to waste 2 hours, under excessive profanities, to drive back home. I have no choice but to go to the gym.

On Wednesday, with my gym mate missing in action – she, too, was invaded by the lazy bugs, I decided to join the body step class for the third time.

Body Step
Right. Left. Knee. Heel. Straddle. Mambo. Hop Hop. Turn around the world. Shuffle!

It was the “Shuffle” that got me lost. I just couldn’t do any steps with a 360 degrees turn. I am born with two left feet.

Met two new friends in class – Alex & Vivi. The regulars. Guess it is good to mingle around rather than sticking to the ill-discipline gym mate.

On Thursday, I decided to try something different.

Body Combat – with double instructor (females), a Japanese and a Malay.

Jab. Punch. Kick. Jump. Jab. Sides.

Think that was easy? I almost got myself killed in the class.

After 20 minutes, everyone was drained. Someone pleaded for a 10 seconds breather. The Nippon lady said – Nobody stops!

It was hilarious. It was fun. And it involves lotsa shouting. Highly recommended to combat stress.

I am simply anxious to go for another session.

OLD FARTS ROCK!

Trademark

Wise friend: Bring a friend.

Self: As long as it's a chick.

Wise friend: You took the words right outta my mouth.

After cursing throughout a horrendous jam along the way, at 6.45 p.m., I met up with Wise Friend and some of his tani kakis (drinking friends) in Petaling Street. Jeff, Mike, Bob, Bob’s awek (Malay slang for girlfriend – I think, we were not properly introduced) and Jam.

I sms-ed Dimples^.

Self: I am already in Petaling Street. Please hurry up.

Dimples: Why so early? Browse around and look at the colorful lanterns and mooncakes lah.

* I would rather look at the cute Mat Sallehs sitting on the next table.*

Self: SOS. I am stucked with some middle-aged men now.

Dimples: Hahahah! Then I will take my own sweet time and let you enjoy their company.

Some friend huh?

Jeff is a decent looking bloke who doesn’t smoke or drink. Nice chap.

Mike kept on insisting that I looked familiar. I insisted I am always home by midnight. It is impossible to see me roaming in the streets after midnight. He said he would look up his files in his office to check who I am. This is not a flattering news, considering he is a policeman.

Bob is a bar tender in some jungle pub at Sri Hartamas. Wise friend recommended me to get buddy price the next time I hop into his bar. I am a confirmed alcoholic.

Awek. (Sorry, didn't get her name). Pretty in red. Smoked Sampoerna A lights.

Jam showed us an interesting pamphlet the PAS demonstrators distributed in attempt to gain public support to ban the “sinful” concert, which allegedly cause gejala sosial (Social Ills).I think it would be better for the problematic people to bang their heads while listening to music rather than bang someone elses’ heads on the ATM machine to rob them?

Wise friend.. you don’t wanna know.

After an hour and a half of inhaling second hand smoke and smelling of beer even without drinking, Dimples arrived. Had dinner and off we went to Stadium Merdeka, when we felt it was about time that those “ketayap#- wearing” supporters had stopped demonstrating.

Going to concerts is not really my cup of tea. The only concert that I would like to go, is probably Nirvana. Unfortunately, Kurt is dead. But I think I would rather be seen banging my heads in a rock concert NOW than some 15 years later.

The concert started with Search (local band), with Amy Search (lead singer) in his tight white corset (not vest!) and his signature long curly hair, screaming his balls off.

Dimples: Is this what they called rock? More like noise pollution to me.

Dimples: How come ah? Already more than a decade in this biz, yet their music never evolves?

I couldn’t be bothered.

In between the songs (screaming), Dimples and I chatted about old times – from work to holidays, music to gay shows. Since Dimples has this habit of laughing out loud as if she had inhaled the entire barrel of laughing gas, it is embarrassing to make her laugh too much. Must be stress.

After an hour of torturous nonsensical banshee-ish screaming from Amy Search, those blokes (geez- I really don’t know their names) from the Scorpions came to the stage and requested for 15 minutes of our time to rearrange the stage.

As I am not a frequent concert goer (this was my third), I don’t know if this is the usual practice in any concerts to be put on hold in order to re-arrange the stage. The scene looked somewhat like a snake charmer cum ointment seller arranging his props in pasar malam. (Must be the banner - trademark)

After about half an hour later, (Yeah – these Mat Sallehs sure knows how Malaysian time works), the Scorpions started to rock and roll.

Dimples: Now! That’s what I called ROCK!


Stage on Fire

The stage was on fire. The standing crowd was terribly small for a concert – unlike the ones you seen on tv, filled with thousands of heads and body-to-body proximity.

The guitarist is one helluva talented person. He could start up a motorbike engine (as in sound) with his guitar and did some weird noises by giving blowjobs to the microphone.

The drummer probably was the one who got the most attention. It was funny when he stopped drumming and asked in total disbelief, “That’s it??” when the audience was not eagerly responsive.

We couldn’t really identify with the songs. I was disappointed when they left the stage without singing the two out of three songs, I only know of – "Still Loving You" (the compulsory song by my ex boss in karaoke sessions) and "Wind of Change" (memories from TAR College - sigh). ("You and I" was sang earlier). Told Dimples to hold on as I had a premonition that they would return to the stage. Indeed they did. The TWO songs. :) Old dogs, old tricks.


Smeagol in Action

The foremost thing that distracted us from the concert (apart from sitting too far away from the stage - free seating seats) was a Smeagol-ish looking Malay chap, performing all kinds of acrobatic stunts on the fence.. on natural high, much to the chagrin of the RELA officers.

There were head bangers, strippers (only top – men only) and fans playing invisible drums. This particular crowd was in trance and looked as if they were having a mini satanic worship session with little bon fires on crumpled newspapers.


The Young, The Old and the Middle-Aged

I came to this concert expecting middle-aged people, but was surprised to find a wide range of fans– as young as a 7 year-old girl and as old as a 60 year-old grandpa.


The Behaving Crowd

It was quite an enjoyable night. (The Scorpions and the free side show by Smeagol). Thank goodness the rain had stopped before the show starts, the fans were pretty harmless and entertaining (they just irked the RELA officers) and the weather was cold enough to ensure I didn’t sweat like a pig. Sorry, I couldn’t comment much on the music, as I am not musically inclined. Undeniably, these seasoned rockers are far more talented than the younger generation of boy bands combined, which emphasize more on looks rather than talent such as Backside Boys and Wastelife. The Scorpions members sure looked stunning for their age!

As usual, Dimples forgets her way home (present tense here as it is repetitive) and we ended up wasting an hour and a half, driving under excessive profanities throughout the entire Serdang, Seri Kembangan and God-Knows-Where and splurged about RM5.70 on toll, to get to her house.

For more professional pics and commentative blogs on the Scorpions (people who actually know about the music industry) , please see: Jeff Ooi's and TV Smith's.

^Dimples is a friend I got to know during my market research years. Job no. 5

# A type of head gear.

MR CURLY - UNBLEACHED

After so many requests to see how does Mr Curly looks like, here it is.. forgive him. He is camera-shy.


Mr Curly - Unbleached

Mr Curly is seen here with his big plate of mee hailam (much to the Monk's disgust - his similar order is of smaller portion) and his usual water melon juice.

Related Post: Chinese Tea and Mr Curly

INCREMENT PROPOSAL

Been having sleepless nights as my brains cells are still actively trying to get over the thought of changing my job AGAIN.

I am happy with where I am now. Less stress. Less office politics.

Obviously the new prospect job pays much much better than what I have now. About 50% more(??). Typical human greed. The more you have, all the more you want.

I told my friend tactfully that I am happy here (serious!) and I do not wish to change as I have just started to set foot back to the corporate world and wish to be remained in this bliss for a little longer or basking in sheer joy of being complacent. Age is catching up. I am getting uncomfortable to move on to new challenges.

As much as I resented going for interviews, Monday’s interview was merely a favor for a good friend, who thinks that I might fit well in this company due to my aggressive nature. THIS interview turned me around.

The lady boss here, she looked typically like someone I met during my last Saturday’s rendezvous with the homosexuals. Pretty broad (PB) with a foul mouth. She was using the “F” word right through the entire interview. Of coz I don’t really mind as I myself to use “F” word indiscriminately. (Only as in figure of speech, not as in verb, which is kinda sad.) Part of the reasons why this poor good friend of mine is leaving, could not tolerate this kind of abusive language. This is stock market lah. Hello?

PB was merely stating some examples, but I was positive that she was actually making a statement: I AM THE BOSS HERE. DON’T YOU DARE F*CK WITH ME.

Like the Chinese saying goes – one mountain can only have one tiger (I wonder how did this one tiger mate? Asexually like amoebas?). IF I am employed, it is going to be tough. Both of us would be screaming at each other. Or as I've always prefer to think of my glass as half full than empty, at least both of us are outright frank in communication.

Imagine what would I derive out of this job with the additional dough? (PB claims that the yearly increment has superb arithmetical tendency)

- An apartment/shag nest to call my own!
- Pay off my credit cards bills
- Buy a new car (RAV4)
- Buy extra insurance
- Take my parents to vacations
- Get sister the best psychiatrist

The people that I am going to meet would be a tremendous boost to my already over burdening social life. (as if) The level of exposure and experience would not be the same. It would hit me like a bullet train. I am scared, worried, excited, delirious... all at the same time.

The downside of it: I probably need to kiss PB’s ass.

And I don’t know how to tell Sugar. *heart breaks*

Oh well, I probably flunked the interview and failed to secure the job.

BROTHERLY LOVE

----- Original Message -----
From: Brother
To: Gina
Sent: Thursday, September 09, 2004 1:35 PM


Dick*, australian embassy in indonesia just got bombed

probably u better avoid going near australian embassy, coz it's just a few blocks away from ur office


----- Original Message -----
From: Gina
To: Brother
Sent: Thursday, September 09, 2004 2:16 PM
Subject: Re:

not only a few blocks. I am right NEXT to the australian embassy. i`ll be damned.

think i will top up my accident insurance.


* Dick – our common nickname for each other at home. I can’t remember how we ended up calling each other dicks.

(Something like the black brothers calling each other “Dawg”?)

BOOK REVIEW: LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA

Love in the Time of Cholera

I once teased Kat about the title of the book, people would still be horny in times of crisis.

Despite the title being somewhat cacat, nevertheless, attention grabbing, Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a master of story teller, skilled player of words which emphasizes its meanings accurately, with generous doses of sarcasm, humor and wit.

It has awhile since I last complete an entire book – I took a month to finish this. I have developed a very bad habit of reading a few pages of many books all at a time. (Please refer to the Currently Nibbling… column on the right).

A good friend, Sing is right. When I told Sing about Florentino Ariza (the main male cast in this story) who waited 51 years, nine months and four days for the woman that he loved, this friend of mine brushed it aside as absurd and commented that, no matter how much you loved a woman, you would still sleep around prior to getting hold of the affection of the woman of his dreams.

He was right.

Welcome to the real world. A man, no matter how devoted they claimed they are to you, they would still sleep around like animals.

I do not know what Fermina Daza has done to intoxicate Florentino Ariza, other than her almond shaped eyes, walking with haughtiness, etc... probably her pheromones appealed to him. (Remember Poison Ivy in Batman?)

Florentino Ariza is a victim of forlorn love. All these years, he subconsciously seeks the substitute for Fermina in every woman that he entered, yet he couldn’t erase Fermina from his body, mind and soul. What befuddled me was, they were not even real lovers in the very beginning. Dejavu?

They were merely penfriends, professing love for each other in written form; letters, telegrams (Florentino worked there), occasional exchange of gifts of dried leaves, petals, and the most precious would be Fermina’s hairlocks. This way of communication went on for some time before Fermina was caught red handed writing to Florentino in her classroom and was later, expelled from school. This is the 1900s. What do you expect?

This proves that the power of the pen is sharper than any two-edged swords.

Some witty sexual# remarks found in this book (almost every page is peppered with wit):

The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love. – Florentino’s dad. Like father like son. Hopeless romantic. Page 169

“The world is divided into those who screw and those who do not.” – Florentino, when he has difficulties coping with his bowel problems. Page 183

“No,” she said to him. “I would feel as if I were going to bed with the son I never had.” – Leona Cassiani, Florentino’s able assistant and good friend. Florentino has a thing for older women. Page 188

“But when a woman decides to sleep with a man, there is no wall she will not scale, no fortress she will not destroy, no moral consideration she will not ignore at its very root: there is no God worth worrying about.” – Dr Urbino, Fermina’s dead husband over a parrot. Page 329

“I’ve remained a virgin for you” – Florentino, the liar. Page 339

Simple story yet, exquisite description of the ambience/ smells/ touch*/ feelings, etc would transport the reader exactly to the very scene as the story unfolds. The earnest yearning. The unfulfilled love. The agonizing years of tormenting wait. Simply mesmerizing. I am inspired.

Two Thumbs Up!

# Men think of sex every 2 minutes.
*(without tasteless lurid details of sex ala Sidney Sheldon – those wham-bang-thank-you-maam type)

Related Post: Love in the Time of Cholera, Perhentian Trip: Post Mortem II - The First Night

Book review by Robert Couteau

FUTURE IN TAROT CARDS?

My 15 year-old cousin sister is very passionate about tarot cards, as much as her undying passion for badminton. In one month time, she will be sitting for her PMR and now, she is not studying and predicting my future with a newly purchased mini tarot card kit from the bookstore. I let a 15 year-old girl to dictate my fate. How sad can that be?


Career - Clockwise from left - The Temperance, The Tower, The Strength and The Death

Career-There is another job offer which is SIMPLY irresistible. Paying more than 50% extra from my current job now! Of coz, nothing comes so easy, there has to be a catch.. somewhere!

The Temperance (Past)
You find the job emotionally challenging. No matter how hard you work, how much effort you put in, you will not be appreciated. Everything will go down the drain.

The Death (Present)
You have to put the past behind and move on. You have secured a good job. Use your capability and talent to the fullest.

The Strength (Near Future)
You have found a secured job, with a lot of things to learn, recognition of capability and talent. Bank on this and you will go far. You have to revamp your outlook/appearance. (Jeez! This is tricky!)

The Tower (Action Required)
You are lack of patience and capability to handle this future job. No matter what you do, your colleagues will be suspicious of you. Being hardworking alone will never take you far. You have to have office politics skills.

Love-This is the unavoidable area to consult, irregardless your sexual orientation.

The Chariot

The Chariot (Past)
Love started with presence of books – (meaning? In school? College?) Should there be a presence of a third party, you would be on the winning side. However, be prepared for unrequited love when love is professed. Best way of communication is through written medium. (Blog?)


The High Priestess

The High Priestess (Present)
The feeling is mutual and both of you seemed to be telepathically linked. Both of you have the passion invoked within your hearts for each other. However, both are too complacent and comfortable with the current arrangement and are afraid that some unpredictable event would caused restlessness or ripples on calm water.


The Moon

The Moon (Near Future)
Insecurity, suspicion, jealousy, confused of what you want. Threatened by presence of imaginary third party. Might hurt him over lack of trust. Will jeopardize the relationship if confronting him with baseless accusation. There will be some desperation on your part to get his undivided attention. However, it will all go to waste as he will not yield.


The Justice

The Justice (Action Required)
One sided relationship. Unrequited love. The suspicion of imaginary third party or lack of trust will kill the relationship. It is totally up to both of you on how to move on from here.

Unrequited love.

Unrequited love.

Unrequited love.

I am giving up. *Wave White Flag*

THE OTHER KIND

A few years ago, Snow*, a childhood friend, classmate, room mate, shoulder to cry on friend (I am always the shoulder, she, the cry baby), I knew since I was seven years old, confided in me that she is a lesbian, I couldn’t accept it.

I lectured (nagged more like it) her on and on about how her mother vowed to be a vegetarian (temporary) as a token of gratitude to the Goddess of Mercy to grant her a daughter. We discussed in great length on the possibility of her being disowned by her parents, problems in the future, etc etc.

Today, I couldn’t be bothered. Haven’t seen her in ages, I decided to crash her Indomee# poolside party in one of her friend’s apartment in some upscale residential area.

With 3 bottles of Tiger beer, a few packets of chips, a bottle of Kickapoo (Snow’s favorite) and a pack of Dunhill Menthol Lights, I was ready to rock and roll.

There were about 20 of them. Most are high flyers. They have traveled half of the world. Funny lot. They were very animated when they described their peculiar experiences with foreign people especially people from China and Shanghai– the spitting (accuracy and speed), being brutally rude and rough, unshaved armpits, talking out too loud, etc.

Not surprisingly, half of the girls are pengkids (A slang in Malay to describe girls dressing up like males, using layers of white cloth to wrap their breasts so they would remain flat, short hair, etc). Nevertheless, they are friendly people.

One of them came up to me and say, “Hey Gorgeous, what’s your name?” That is the best pick up line that I ever heard in my entire life. (Probably the one and only).

There were some gorgeous ones too. Snow is tall and slender in her blue and yellow Billabong Bikini, Mitch*, Snow’s girlfriend, has husky sexy voice, big eyes and megawatt smile and Jade* a.k.a. Flora Chan in her black spaghetti strap top. Some of them look so motherly that you don’t believe they are gays.

I guess I must have created a rather awkward atmosphere as I looked straight (very un-gayish)the moment I stepped into the poolside area. I guess Snow must have warned them to behave themselves. Sigh. I don't have sex appeal even to lesbians! SIGH!

After a few rounds of kick-ass indomee, Tiger beer, screwdrivers, I blurted out the taboo word.

Cardinal sin in any lesbian party – never ever mention the “S” word: SPINSTER. I naively told them about the tragic organic farm trip when they were reviewing some pics in my digital camera.

These people are just like other ordinary people. They are nice people, minding their own biz and running their own lives. I don’t understand why our society would still treat them with prejudice, a piece of lame joke to poke around. As long as they are comfortable with their sexuality, who gives a flying f*ck?

I had a good time, grinning most of the time like a Cheshire Cat and keeping my bloody mouth shut to avoid saying something else that would be considered taboo. Heck. I even dressed up for this occasion when I couldn’t be bothered to do so when I go out with the guys. Is that a sign that I am unconsciously a lesbian too?

Hhmph.

*[names] - Obviously, nicknames are used to protect the lesbians, I mean the innocent.
#Indomee is a brand of instant noodle from Indonesia.

SIZE MATTERS

12. 13 a.m.
Mamak stall in front of the Police Quarters in Selayang

They were comparing sizes (what else?) when I arrived fashionably two hours late for supper. I was watching Collateral with Ann and a former colleague, Tan (and indirectly with Paul and Vic - we bought our tix separately) at KLCC.

So, if you think I would be out of place to be here because:

1. I don’t have one to compare?
2. I would be blushing?
3. I won’t know sizes of typical Malaysians’ coz I haven’t seen a real one before?

Wrong on all counts. Except #1, that is.

(The entire conversation was in Cantonese. I will try my best to translate because I was lost half of the time – there were some testicles jargons here)

Koon: How many mm in one cm?

The Monk: 10 mm

Koon: Cannot be!

The Monk: What do you mean, cannot be?

Koon: Is there any other measurements other than cm or mm?

The Monk: Kilometres?

Self: Yards?

Koon: No no. They said, the normal measurement is around 20 cm to 30 cm.

The Monk: Wah Lau Yeh!

Everyone, including myself, was trying to imagine the length with our hand gestures.

The Monk: If you enter a vagina with such a long dick, the dick will end up in her throat.

Can you believe that a monk said that?

Self: How can? 30 cm??? 12 inches already you know! That is one foot!

The Monk: You mean black people? *oozing with racism jealousy*

Koon: This is a book from Taiwan lah. Taiwanese men measure about 20 cm to 30 cm.

Self: You should throw away the book. It will make you depressed. Chinese men where got so long one??

Koon: You look at those Chinese athletes in Olympics. I am sure they have!

So.. men do check out each other's manhood? Kat is right.

Self: Yeah I think so. But normal men with 20 – 30 cm’s dick? I don’t think so.

The Monk: Is it true that blacks have such long dicks that they actually can wrap their waist with it? *still obsessed with racism jealousy*

Self: Eh.. come to think of it. You didn’t watch Discovery Channel? The males in this weird tribe wrap their dicks with somewhat looking like tongkat ali.


Overdose of tongkat ali

Mr Curly: 15 cm is about 6 inches. Look at the shorter ruler. 15 cm sure got one!

The Monk: Short ruler?

I took out the straw from the milo ais glass and showed them how long is 15 cm.

Self: This is when the dick is erected. *Talking like a pro*

Mr Curly: You can actually measure your own dick with the length between the tip of your index finger till the tip of your thumb.

Mr Curly gesturing his size.

The Monk: Woah.. you've got a long one, buddy!

For a brief moment, the four boys were talking silently and knowingly with their eyes (Oh.. you know.. the eyes-rolling-then-snigger-type). Kit remained silent most of the time, his face was plastered with a perpetual grin like a rotten seahum.

Then..

Mr Curly: Hey! Don’t tell me you told her!

I hate it when people were talking as if I am invisible.

Mr Curly: Did you tell her what we did when we were in form 4?

Again. I am invisible.

Mr Curly has ways of blowing his own cover.

Everybody stared at the Monk.

The Monk: No, I didn’t!

Self: What? What happened???

The Monk: Curly here is a sick bastard!

Mr Curly: Don’t you dare to tell her!!

I will find out. Soon.

For about one and a half an hour, they were still discussing their little experiment in the classroom, which I did not know of, circumcisions, tonics, etc and spilled out secrets of whose penises got exposed during P.E. Lessons back in school and started to compare over and over again.

And who says women are vain? Think again.

And as for the encounter with real penises, thanks to perverts who generously flashed theirs in public, usually under LRT Stations or masturbating in front of their motorbikes' headlights (those days while I was still in TAR College).

And no.. I wasn’t turn on towards the end of the conversation.

YOU'RE IN LOVE

Wilson Phillips

12.32 p.m.
Office

Wilson Phillips is on air now with their very old famous song – You’re in Love.

It is one of my favorite karaoke songs. Probably this is the one and only song that I could sing without looking at the lyrics. Unfortunately, I think this song is way too outdated that I couldn’t find it in the last karaoke session with the Monk and Koon.

The lyrics of the song always reflect what’s nagging my heart:

Open the door and come in
I'm so glad to see you my friend
I don't know how long it has been
Having those feelings again
But now I see that you're so happy
And ooh, it just sets me free
And I'd like to see us as good of friends
As we used to be
Ah....My love...Ah

You're in love
That's the way it sould be
'Cause I want you to be happy
You're In Love
And I know that you're not in love with me
Ooh, it's enough for me to know that You're In Love
I can let you go
'Cause I know that You're In Love...

Sometimes it's hard to believe
That you're never coming back for me
I've had this dream that you'd always be by my side
Oh, I could've died
But now I see that you're so happy
And ooh, it just sets me free
And I'd like to see us as good of friends
As we used to be
Ah....My love...Ah

Repeat Chorus

I tried to find you but you were so far away
I was praying that fate would bring you back to me
Someday, someday, someday...
Ooh, You're In Love

Ooh, it's enough for me to know that You're In Love
Now I'll let you go
'Cause I know that You're In Love...No
No, No, No, No, No, No, No.. Ooh...

A simple song. Yet, the yearning is so earnest and sad.