MERDEKA MAKAN MARATHON

After much pestering from a colleague of mine, asking almost every other week – when are we going to Tanjung Sepat, I had no choice but to bring her there. This time, because it’s a Merdeka Holiday and the kids, Sasha and Lok Lok were all in their own parents’ care, my family decided to join in the gluttony trip. Sure heboh one!

This time round, I didn’t seek the company of Popiah – who would always graciously take us around Tanjung Sepat and Sg. Pelek as she would be in KL instead to do some shopping.

So, it was only me and my cousin sister, who went to Tanjung Sepat before. I was quite confident though, because to date – this would be my fourth time in Tanjung Sepat makan spree.

First stop as usual, would be the Bak Kut Teh place along Jalan Pasar in Tanjung Sepat. I haven’t had the chance to eat the BKT every time we go there as we were always too late. The BKT sold off at 10 am every morning. This morning, we were early, so we had the chance to taste the BKT. To me, it’s almost the same as anywhere else in KL, but it’s slightly less oily. Probably we should have tried the dry BKT.

Bak Kut Teh, Curry Sotong, Fish Paste Soup & Bean Paste Red Snapper

If you notice, I ordered the same dish every time I was here – I really like the fish paste soup! Today everything was pricier! Probably Popiah was not with us – regular faces always get to eat cheaper! It’s RM95 for 5 dishes for 8 people.

Then, we made a stop at Shing Moh Kopitiam, also in Jalan Pasar for kopi-O in an antique cup and toasted bread. Ah… heavenly.

Patriotic fisherman, Catch of the Day, Lone Fisherman, Cute Little Girl!

A trip to Tanjung Sepat is always coupled with a visit to the Lover’s Bridge, Mushroom Farm, Longan farm and Morib. We lurked around Lover’s Bridge after our scrumptious brunch and took some photos. It was indeed a fun place to take pictures – the fishermen coming back from the sea with catch of the day, the old bridge, the live sea creatures… etc.

Pisces and Cancer for food?

Care-free Morib

It’s a delight that I managed to take different pics every time I go to Tanjung Sepat and Morib – even though I always go to the same spot. Lover’s bridge is just a bridge less than 200m! So does the small bridge at the back of the mushroom factory. Check it out here and here.

Mushroom Farm's backyard

On our way back, we made a brief stop at Longan Farm. People bought longans in big plastic bags. I have never seen the longan farm this packed before.

Fungi on a dead log, Sweet Potato and Loads of Papaya

During lunch, we wanted to have it at the Lover’s Bridge restaurant but found it was packed to the brim with holiday makers. People came in big buses! It is never a good idea to go to Tanjung Sepat during big holidays or school holidays. I had been here a few times and never encountered not getting a place for lunch! We decided to leave the place as the crowd was getting restless waiting for their tables, and the waiter in Lover’s Bridge is a fucking prick for not telling us that the table was reserved - after we stood next to the table; a good 15 minutes, waiting for the assholes eating deliberately slow as they saw us waiting.

Pissed off, we headed out to Lorong 4 instead to look for Hai Yeu Hin – the quaint little kopitiam famous for its variety of paos. They have red bean paste, kaya, shang yok, char siew, tai pao, vegetarian, peanuts and mui choi pao. Their famous pao is probably the shang yok – as when we went there, shang yok were all sold out and if we want the pao, we would have to take the non-steamed ones back to KL and steam them ourselves. We had some paos as appetizer before hitting the road again for a bigger meal. My personal favorite is probably the mui choi pao (pic).

E.P. Hoon restaurant in Sg. Pelek, that served good loh mee and special fried salad was not opened due to Merdeka – very bad luck. We went to the neighbour restaurant instead, Sg. Pelek Restaurant. The food was mediocre, but it’s nonetheless good. RM103 for 5 dishes for 8 people.

Steam fish in Chew Chao style (my favorite), bean curd in plum sauce,
Thai-style chicken, lai liu har (prawns)

Happy Merdeka, everyone! Hope your Merdeka is as yummy as mine.

HELP WANTED: KOTA KINABALU

* Warning. This is a bitching post.

Well, no thanks to WY – she decided to FFK us last minute to plan for our next trip to Kota Kinabalu next Friday, I had to take things from here, thereon.

The internet website on hostels in Kota Kinabalu is driving me nuts. For instance, in the website of Trekker’s Lodge; which attracted good ratings – it was stated there – 4-bed mixed dorm. Any normal person would think that – this room would fit 4 beds. This is not the case, however. A phone call was made to Trekker’s Lodge and I was told that it was actually a room with 8 beds inside.

I enquired about the special promotion of RM9 per bed per night, and was told it was only for first come first serve basis. So I decided to place a booking on 3 beds for the 4 night stays that I am going to be there. They insisted that I pay up RM22 instead (actual price per bed). You expect me to pay RM22 per night and share the room with possibly 5 other strangers? I don’t think so. I opted for some other hostels instead.

I never find such ridiculous problem when I went to Cambodia– considering it is a much under developed country. Their e-mails replies were prompt despite broken English and they are very customer oriented. We don’t even need to pay a cent to secure booking and we only need to pay the said amount of money during the end of our stay in Cambodia. And yeah – Takeshi played an important role here for giving me very useful tips.

(this is for VJ)

Traveling in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap were a breeze and not to mention dirt cheap! For a small fee of USD12-USD15 per day, you can utilize your tuk tuk driver at your own expense. Since it is not a big place, it was easy to get around. Every hostel/ guesthouse/ hotels are well equipped with a Visitor’s Guide – and it comes free of charge!

It was a tad disappointment that our own country did not provide such thing, despite the mega promotion of Cuti Cuti Malaysia to lure both locals and foreigners to come visit our country. (Speaking of which – Cuti Cuti Malaysia has yet to revert with the tour packages since I e-mailed them last Saturday. It’s been MORE THAN A WEEK NOW! E-mail is real time mah – multi super corridor lah - kononnya!).

Instead of spending money on the useless Citra Warna, they should have spent the tax payors’ money on reliable Visitor’s Guide Book for tourists. Lonely Planet is obviously outdated and it is impossible to keep tracks with the change of bus routes in the country – you know, the mini buses, Intrakota, City Liners are gone – I have only seen Intrakota now being changed to Rapid KL. It is no surprise that Malaysians prefer to drive, rather than to depend on incompetent public transport.

I was embarrassed for the fact that, our country is not a travel-friendly country. Tourist information booths are usually empty. No one seems to know how to properly direct lost tourists/ lost people to where they wanted to go – everyone seems to be infected with the familiarity on how our government departments are run – they will point you to this person, that person, taking you around in circles. Heck – if you ask me how to go to Fraser’s Hill – I wouldn’t know as I haven’t been there before and probably if I were to go there, I would drive!

That is why I took the liberty to fetch my outstation friends around when they are here, even if they are very pai seh to bother me.

The prices charged to take tourists from one spot to another are downright exorbitant. Here are some of the prices offered if we were to take the packages in Kota Kinabalu:-

* Kudat Tip of Borneo (Ex-Kota Kinabalu)
PACKAGE RATE: RM220 per person

* Kinabalu National Park & Poring Hot Spring (Ex-Kota Kinabalu)
PACKAGE RATE: RM220 per person

* Mengkabong Water Village & Tamparuli (Ex-Kota Kinabalu)
PACKAGE RATE: RM180 per person

* Island Escape at Tunku Abdul Rahman Park (Ex-Kota Kinabalu)
PACKAGE RATE: RM170 per person

* Kota Kinabalu City (Ex-Kota Kinabalu)
PACKAGE RATE: RM110 per person

* White water rafting at Kiulu/Padas
PACKAGE RATE: RM170 per person

P.S. I am NOT going to climb the mountain – so, no climbing trip for me.

Think we all ang moh, meh?

The worst part is, when I asked some friends (those from KK) for some tips to travel to Kota Kinabalu, they all told me – why are you coming there? There is nothing much to see. Talking about promoting your own hometown, huh?

Ah well, I guess what we need to do now is to play it by the ear, and probably rent a car.

There won't be another CUTI CUTI MALAYSIA for me in a million years. Hah! How unpatriotic of me!

OVERHEATED

This weekend was overheated.

Firstly, there was a BBQ at an ex colleague’s house. Old buddies were supposed to meet up on Friday night for a BBQ but the torrent rain had caused Kuala Lumpur’s traffic to be utterly horrendous. I was stuck in the standstill jam after office hour on Friday at Jalan Kuching for almost an hour before I decided to make a U turn to go home.

Feeling somewhat guilty for not showing up to the BBQ, (and the host had made my favorite bacon and banana sticks), I decided to go on Saturday instead. Apparently, everyone was stuck in Friday’s horrific jam and didn’t manage to make it, apart from those friends and relatives coming from Petaling Jaya or Kajang to Cheras. Speaking of Cheras – it seriously befuddling how people could stand staying in Cheras with the never ending standstill traffic jam, even after 11 pm.

It was a good to catch up with old friends; talking about mostly anything – trips, video games, movies, babies, gossips, jokes, etc. A terrific way to spend the weekend.

This morning, I had a weird dream again. We were at some place filled with people. It looked like a temple with Hindu gods figurines. Then I suddenly had the urge to use the loo. The moment I opened the door, there was a splash of blood on my feet. I screamed and jumped aside. A girl who was with me – I don’t even know her, apparently did not see the splash of blood. I looked again. There was no blood. I tried to use the next toilet – but someone else had jumped queue. The third toilet was broken. The girl who was standing next to me vanished into thin air.

I confided in a friend – I don’t even remember who she was, she suggested that I see a medium. I found myself in a hall filled with people – there was a lady in her 40s, motioned me to see her. I told her about what I saw. She appeared to be calm and motioned everyone in the hall to form a circle.

“Do not break the circle,” she said sternly.

“We will now form a circle to appease the spirit,” she continued, “Do not let your hands go.”

I noticed that we were suddenly standing on a very huge Ouija board. I freaked out. The chanting began – but it was barely audible. I tried not to let go off my hands – but the persons next to me sometimes would let go and clap. I was quite pissed off at them for not listening.

After the chanting, we were all instructed to lie on a plank with graph-like chart. I was placed on number 5; meaning – I gave the most resistance to the spirit, among other people. I asked the lady – what does this mean? She said – I would need to negotiate my way out with the spirit myself.

I was then transported again back to the toilet – but this time round, there was no blood and the toilet was clean. I then, put a pile of dirty clothes into a washing machine next to the toilet – while watching my back – so that, the splash of blood do not appear suddenly again.

Suddenly, the phone rang. My subconscious mind told me not to answer it.

“No! Don’t answer it! It’s from the Monk!”

Then I woke up. It was 11.30 a.m.

The call was from Dennis; waking me up to go to Bentong with him and Jess for a durian fiesta. I rubbed my eyes and recollect my dreams. It was freaking weird alright… and geez.. today’s the Monk’s birthday! (I only remember when I wrote this post!). Well, Happy Birthday, Monk!

Dennis’ colleague has an uncle in Bentong, who would give a good deal for durians. I was delighted. The usual prices charged for durians in KL - RM10-RM13 per kilo for D24 and RM5-RM8 per kilo for D101, etc. This knowledge is gathered from the few durians dinner with Sekinchan Boy. Here - we are getting D24 at RM4.50 per kg and D101 for RM3 per kg. Sweet!!

The thought of having durians in an orchard tucked away in Bentong was beguiling. It was a hot afternoon. We didn’t know there would be 14 of us! Kuala Lumpur convoy to Bentong for durians in four cars! There were some serious durian connoisseurs. To me – a durian is a durian, irregardless of grade or species.

Then, I suddenly turned apprehensive.

Me: Are we gonna go for jungle trekking when we enter the orchard?

Dennis: Not sure lah.

Me: Shit lor.. I am so out of shape. I don’t even go to FRIM for a walk! And now, going inside an orchard to eat durians?? Got mosquitoes or not?

It’s me – the whiner on Sunday afternoon.

Dennis: You came back from Taman Negara – you were alright what?

Me: Dude.. that was like.. 4 freaking years ago? When I was fitter?

Chamang Waterfalls

We were wrong. There was no orchard. We ended up being led to Chamang Waterfalls, where we went last year for a picnic. Actually, it was a relief for me - no need to do any trekking at all - I am that lazy!

We ordered 30 durians to be shared among ourselves. Since there were 14 of us – I thought there would be a shortage. I was ambitious to finish at least 3 durians all by myself! The feat was almost impossible as almost every durian was extremely creamy, delicious and they come in quite big chunks! We had mostly D24.

Check out the screwdriver!

It was hilarious to see some of the participants bringing their own cleaver and one even brought a screwdriver. The ladies were the first to take initiative to hack the durians apart – wow, and they did a pretty decent job!

After finishing 18 durians in less than 30 minutes, everyone was pooped. We took a walk around the waterfall for a breather. We did go for a short jungle trekking - like 50 m? *lol*

It was a good thing that the Uncle Durian took us here, rather than going into the orchard – we wouldn’t know what else we could be doing in the orchard then, other than trying not to get durians falling on our heads and letting mosquitoes sucking us dry.

We learnt a few tips today:-

1. A good durian comes with worms inside – less pesticides were used or none at all.
2. To select a good durian, place a 5 sen at the tip (bottom) of the durian – if the 5 sen covered the tip just nicely – that is a good durian.
3. The uncle thought us how to select a good durian – by blowing on the spikes of the durian. If the durian is empty (meaning – not much biji inside), it would make noise.

Heck. I will never learn.

We ta pao-ed the remaining durians to Kuala Lumpur. It was a satisfying trip. I just spent a total of RM60 – about RM40 for the durians – eat (I think I ate 2 whole biji) and 5 more (D24 and D101) to be brought home – RM20 for toll, petrol, a couple of sandwiches and a few bottles of 100 plus to wash down the heat.

There would be another trip for sure, in near future. I could smell it.

BIRD CAGE AND INFERNO

I walked about a street filled with antiques shop; combing one shop after another for a mysterious bird cage.

I went into a grotesque looking antique shop. The lady boss wore a pirate bandana and even eye liner like Captain Jack Sparrow. Here, there were all kinds of bird cages with stuffed birds inside. Heck. They even had a fish; a garoupa, if not mistaken, inside one of the many cages – still alive.

My heart beat suddenly accelarated. I became panicky. There was a nagging thought in my head that someone was sent to kill me. I ran and ran and ran… and ended up in a room filled with very hot air. I realized it was hell. It was all in red inferno.

All of a sudden, my role switched again – I was sitting on a director’s chair – directing an advertisement. The actor uncannily looked like Khairy – the much talked about politician in town (unfortunately not about his good deeds but.. oh well). It’s weird because I don’t even bother to read the newspapers at the first place.

Khairy – err, or the actor who looked like Khairy, engaged in a knife wielding fight with an unidentified man in very thick black cloak and sun shades; ala Matrix style. Hmmph… he’s quite cute though (the guy in shades).

Then, I motioned me-looked-like-Khairy-oh-hell-no to say the taglines.

“You lah! Never use Digi! Do you know, Digi even has coverage in hell?? Then I don’t have to be dead to come here to save you!”

I woke up. Geez. I should stop watching Astro till 2 am every night.

Oh... by the way, I use Hotlink.

CAN'T GET A DATE?

I chanced upon this really hilarious show - Can't get a date? on Channel 71 (MTV) during my hibernation weekend, and had been a religious follower ever since.

It’s about nerds, geeks, dorks (with capital D) or basically people who have no social skills (worse – no basic hygiene!!) trying to get a date in the Big Apple.

One of the participants (Mya) remarked that, in New York City – all men are either taken, dead or they are in prison. (Hahahahaha!!!) It was actually her being self-conscious about her body and lack of confidence.

I wonder – if a man who keeps a jar of urine in his room and behaves like a total jerk could get a date, then why are some of us here, still sit at home on weekends – alone?

I had gathered some useful (I hope) tips from the episodes to share with you people – so that we all can get our lazy butts out for date(s) and be miserable no more:-

(1) Have self confidence (Will)
(2) Dress up (Mya)
(3) Be flirty (Mya)
(4) Learn to cook to impress your dates (Will)
(5) Clean your apartment (Will)
(6) Stop being a jerk (Morgan)
(7) Stop behaving as if the world is picking on you (Morgan)
(8) Get in shape (Jim)
(9) Stop airing your naked pics on the internet to score dates (Jim)
(10) Hang out with friends who has large network of friends (Mya)

Like you dunno already? Haha. Anyway, Happy dating.

FISH CHEEK

I had a tumultuous week. Some of my mother’s actions totally did not make any sense. I was a bit grumpy over the fact that she sided my sister more than me – which I felt my actions were more rational, despite my horrible temper.

I had not wanted to forgive any of them for they have hurt my feelings deeply. I was sulking the entire week, refusing not to speak to any one of them, answering questions, only when they are important, with a grunt or merely a nod.

I buried myself in books and stayed in my room most of the time – with the caution signage at the door – “Beware. Bitch with a stick stuck in her ass.”

During my time of seeking solitude – I chanced upon this short story in Amy Tan’s book – the Opposite of Fate. Page 125 to 127

“I fell in love with the minister’s son the winter I turned 14. He was not Chinese, but as white as Mary in the manger. For Christmas, I prayed for this blonde-haired boy, Robert, and a slim new American nose.

When I found out that my parents had invited the minister’s family over for Christmas Eve dinner, I cried. What would Robert think of our shabby Chinese Christmas? What would he think of our noisy Chinese relatives who lacked proper American manners? What terrible disappointment would he feel upon seeing not a roasted turkey and sweet potatoes but Chinese food?

On Christmas Eve, I saw that my mother had outdone herself in creating a strange menu. She was pulling black veins out of the backs of fleshy prawns. The kitchen was littered with appalling mounds of raw food: A slimy rock cod with bulging fish eyes that pleaded not to be thrown into a pan of hot oil. Tofu, which looked like stacked wedges of rubbery white sponges. A bowl soaking fried fungus back to life. a plate of squid, criss-crossed with knife markings so they resembled bicycle tires.

And then they arrived – the minister’s family and all my relatives in a clamor of doorbells and rumpled Christmas packages. Robert grunted hello. And I pretended he was not worthy of existence.

Dinner threw me deeper into despair. My relatives licked the ends of their chopsticks and reached across the table, dipping into the dozen or so plates of food. Robert and his family waited patiently for platters to be passed to them. My relatives murmured with pleasure when my mother brought the whole steamed fish. Robert grimaced. Then my father poked his chopsticks just below the fish eye and plucked out the soft meat. “Amy, your favourite,” he said, offering me the tender fish cheek, I wanted to disappear.

At the end of the meal my father leaned back and belched loudly, thanking my mother for her fine cooking. “It’s a polite Chinese custom., to show you are satisfied,” he explained to out astonished guests. Robert was looking down at his plate with a reddened face. The minister managed to muster a quiet burp. I was stunned into silence for the rest of the night.

After all the guests had gone, my mother said to me, “You want be same like American girls on the outside.” She handed me an early gift. It was a miniskirt in beige tweed. “But inside, you must always be Chinese. You must be proud you different. You only shame is to be ashame.”

And even though I didn’t agree with her then, I knew that she understood how much I had suffered during the evening’s dinner. It wasn’t until many years later – long after I had gotten over my crush on Robert – that I was able to appreciate fully her lesson and the true purpose behind our particular menu. For Christmas Eve that year, she had chosen all my favourite foods.”

Despite still feeling disgruntled and somewhat, unfairly treated, I felt there was truth in what Amy had just written. Sometimes, mother’s actions do not make sense at all at present time. But as we grow, the lessons and advice would somehow fall into places. I "hate" it when mother is always right, even if I always find it amusing.

This story somehow shook the very core of me; and I let go of my guard. It is useless to be continuously angry over some petty arguments, even if it hurts the most. It’s like fighting a losing battle. Blood is always thicker than water. No matter how much tragedies or trials, family had to stick together.

I recalled happier times fondly, and imagined how I couldn’t have survived without them. I never felt so silly for following my temperamental heart; for which I humbly apologized.

MURDER AT 0100

I was going about my business on my lap top last night when suddenly, there was a buzzing sound on top of my head. Thinking that it might be just a beetle, I didn’t even bother to look up.

I went about my business again, till this “beetle” stopped on the top of my right arm. I turned to look at it but it flew away.

Again, I went on with my stuffs.

The final straw came when the buzzing sound above me was getting a bit on my nerve. I looked up. To my horror, there were five bees on top of my head, thinking that the fluorescent light above me was their hive.

Ignoring them might cause a dire consequence. I have a family to protect here. What if these bees suddenly went berserk and tried to attack the two kids at home.

Since it was already 1 am, everyone else was fast asleep, with the exception of someone at home who thinks talking to a boy on the phone at 1 am every night means, they were merely friends; I had to take this myself.

I went to search for the insecticide aerosol spray, which I believed contributed no less to the thinning of ozone layer.

Making sure the aerosol spray was at least half full, (I didn’t want the bees to wake up from its temporary unconscious state and counter attack me with sheer vengeance) I stood on a chair and sprayed mercilessly at them.

I panicked when the number of bees exceeded the five which I initially counted. There were about 10 bees hovering over my head for the past 1 hour!! I sprayed and sprayed as they flew towards me. Scenes of fighting with light sabers ala Starwars came to my mind.

They fell like kamikaze pilots, frantically humming from the beat of their wings against the floor. The incessant humming sound made the scene looked like a B grade movie: Attack of the Hums.

Not wanting to take chances, I took out the broom and the dust pan from the kitchen and squashed the bees before they could fly again – nowadays, insecticide seemed to have very little effect on insects, especially mosquitoes and cockroaches.

I went to search for the fallen bees, and squashed the bees one at a time. I know they didn’t deserve to die this way but I guess they are better off dead. I won’t take any chances of letting them sting the family. (I thought of doing it the “Buddha” way – opening the door to let the bees fly outside themselves – which proved to be too risky in the end… read on…).

Yet, the humming continued. I was puzzled.

I searched every corner in my living room for the bees. I followed the sound of the humming and looked outside my house – Omigod! Mother bee, father bee, grandpa bee, grandma bee, little bees (in fact, I think the entire colony is outside!) etc were still hovering on both fluorescent lights outside my house compound.

For the first time in my life, I thanked God for lizards.

COCKROACH

By Anne Sexton

...... Roach, foulest of creatures,
who attacks with yellow teeth
and an army of cousins big as shoes,
you are lumps of coal that are mechanized
and when I turn on the light you scuttle
into the corners and there is this hiss upon the land.
Yet I know you are only the common angel
turned into, by way of enchantment, the ugliest.
Your uncle was made into an apple.
Your aunt was made into a Siamese cat,
all the rest were made into butterflies
but because you lied to God outrightly--
told him that all things on earth were in order--
He turned his wrath upon you and said,
I will make you the most loathsome,
I will make you into God's lie,
and never will a little girl fondle you
or hold your dark wings cupped in her palm....

Have you ever; in any point of your life, feel that you are merely a cockroach? Or wouldn't life be a bit better when you were dead?

HOME BEST KEPT SECRETS #1

Ipoh Steamed Chicken with Bean Sprout

Sekinchan Boy just commented that I have put on so much weight. Well, no thanks to home cooked food, seriously. I can’t help it if my mom cooks like a kitchen goddess. I think everyone’s mother has each of her own special dishes.

Well, after seeing my mother cooking up a storm for our daily lunch, Mei suggested that we open a restaurant – called Kar Heong or something. My mother is 63 years old this year. I doubt she would ever want to slog in the kitchen anymore. She is comfy enough in her own little kitchen, cooking for her family with love.

I ought to be ashamed of myself that I do not know how to cook – if you consider boiling water for instant noodles and frying eggs ARE cooking – then, okay, I can cook some. I am quite hopeless in kitchen; whenever I tried to be the good filial daughter helping out at the kitchen (on very rare occasion), my mom or aunt would shoo me off; saying they are better off doing things without me. Yeah. I suck big time, and boy! They hurt my feelings.

I guess I would not let this be a hindrance of sharing my mother’s best kept secret dishes from public.

For those who don’t really have much time cooking; but hope to get more variety in your daily home cooked food, well, good news. From today, as and when I pleased, I will share with you some of the simple dishes that would not break your bank or your kitchen but probably you have to get your blood test after trying it.

Today, I would like to introduce my mom’s version of Ipoh Steamed Chicken with Bean Sprout.

For the chicken:-

Clean a whole chicken (medium sized) properly.

Put it in the rice cooker, filled with hot water. (Do not cover the whole chicken. Leave about an inch of the chicken, not covered in water.)

Add a pinch of salt into the hot water. Let it slowly cook for 45 minutes.

Strain the chicken. Rub some salt all over the body of the chicken, while it’s hot.

For the broth:-

Use the water from the boiled chicken. Add some oyster sauce, soya sauce, sesame oil and sugar to taste. (Agak-agak lah.. that is what my mom told me).

For the bean sprout:-

Boil the bean sprout sparingly (just "lok lok" lah you know?).

Fried some finely chopped onions to brown.

Garnish with some spring onions. (I love spring onions!!)

Voila! You have your own home cooked Ipoh steamed chicken.

BEACHY WEEKEND

The white sandy beach - ah bliss!

Last weekend getaway was good. I was at Redang Island with 100++ fellow colleagues, Ms Lactose and her children.

Surprisingly, the sea was not as rough as I thought it would be, given that it was already near the end of the year. Thank goodness it didn’t rain the 3 days while we were there.

I thought I wouldn’t survive the 10 hours journey by bus, due to getting old, worrying I might end up having a bad back after the whole journey. Surprisingly, I was okay. The way to Redang was filled with nostalgic memories. As I was trying to get a few winks of sleep on the bumpy ride, my mind didn’t stop wandering for once, reminiscing at the same route I took two years ago to Perhentian Island. The winding road on Karak, the awesome scenery of the oil processing centre in Paka, Dungun, the small deserted trunk roads littered with small petrol kiosk operating 24 hours, etc.

We stayed at Redang Reef Resort, located at the end corner of the stretch of beach. It is a drag that we had to walk a bit to get to the main beach, where Laguna sits perfectly, overlooking the calm turquoise blue sea. I like the open air patio overlooking the sea though, served as a romantic dinner place. Everything is within reach in the resort. They have Astro – where I could watch the Next Top Model bitching it out, and CSI; small souvenir cum convenient shop where I bought nothing except for a few ice creams, hammocks, lazy chairs and benches at the back of the resort, facing a rocky yet scenic sea. Meals were not that bad – they always have meat, fish, vegetables and fruits; albeit being rationed like prisoners’ food – I guess this is the best way to prevent wastage.

What to do in Redang? Well, the main thing one could possibly do is to snorkel, snorkel and snorkel (or dive for fellow divers). For those who doesn’t like to get wet that much, well, you can sleep the day away – in the room, in the hammock, or doing somersault on the white sandy beach, feasting your eyes on bikini clad ladies, play beach volley ball, catch up with some reading, or just sit on the soft sandy white beach, watching the day goes by.

I expected to be seeing legs instead of fishes while snorkeling but was glad that not everyone turned out for the snorkeling trip. Imagine if the 100 of us went on the same snorkeling trip. We would outnumber the fishes!

Sadly, most of the corals were dead; unlike a few years ago while I was there. They had banned the use of flippers to avoid amateur snorkellers from stepping on the delicate corals which would take years to grow.

It was a relaxing trip, despite some bitchy issues cropped up and had somewhat caused some unpleasant moments, but I was glad it eventually turned out to be alright.

One thing I couldn’t stand was the way some of my colleagues were taking pictures. I just couldn’t understand the logic of taking pictures just about anything – every corner of the bus, every single step they take, everything that they do, one pic after another and another. I thought I abused my camera bad enough, till I met them. The worst part was – sometimes, I had to be their photographer – and not only with one camera, but a few cameras of the SAME DAMN SPOT. The pictures would eventually be shared out in the company’s server – so I don’t think it is very bright of them to be taking the SAME PIC on the SAME SPOT by SO MANY different cameras, ain’t it?

I was a bit alarmed that my sister belongs to the same category – berposing posing habis. Geez! What a nerd!

Ah well. I should stop bitching now. The trip was great nevertheless – coz it’s free. Heh!

Sunrise

Oh yeah. One tip though for those who travel by bus to and fro from Redang Islands. Get some Hindi movie – it sure had you glued to the tv for the past 10 hours. We watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (and Herbie – the car movie?) on the way home, which I never get to watch at home because I could never remember the tv slot, or it was too long winded to be watching the movie alone. Oh boy. I cried buckets.

10 good moments while in Redang Island

1. Ms Lactose’s children calling me – Aunty Gina che che.

2. The son doing somersault in the sand and I ended up having sand in my face.

3. The daughter danced instead of singing during karaoke session.

4. Ms Lactose dancing sexily on a pole.

5. Some contractors ( I work with fellow Phua Chu Kangs, remember?) trying to imitate the same (no. 4)

6. The look on the Admin Manager’s face while being seasick.

7. The bikini clad Hawaian looking babe (named Miko – so I heard) bending to pick up the volley ball.

8. Having dinner at the patio overlooking the sea

9. Managed to spot clown fish without aid

10. The most gorgeous guy in the group bought me drinks (ok lah – he bought one for Ms Lactose too!)

SMS MANNERS

Got this last week, from Mei a.k.a. Lau Ren Chia.

-----Original Message-----
From: Mei
Sent: Monday, July 24, 2006 4:21 PM
To: Gina
Subject: Don't you just hate people with no SMS manners.....
Hello hello there!

Well......just wondering whether you have friends with no SMS manners at all................sent out an SMS last week welcoming a friend who is back in KL for a holiday from Dubai....so the message goes...

Msg : "Hi! Welcome back....hope you're enjoying your holiday so far....Looking fwd to seeing you guys next week at Yit's....."
Reply : See you 29th. (Fullstop)

........now in your expert opinion, do you not think the message :
1. Anti climactic
2. Lacking in warmth
3. Impersonal
4. Rude
5. etc etc

Sigh.!@#$% (Why did I bother?!!!!!)
Mei

Speaking of SMS etiquette, there are people who don’t even bother to reply sms at all. I told Mei that, she hasn’t encounter friends who never or just a casual OK when you text him/her a long winded paragraph seeking for his/her opinion – in which you would need an answer more than just OK.

People who never reply sms piss me off. Very rarely, I belong to the category of assholes –and only when it comes to dealing with Lai Ma’s– I never reply to any of her obnoxious KNLBCCB SMSes or recently, some guy who hooked up with me from the internet match making service, who never bother to remember whatever I told him – and he kept on bombarding me the same question since day 1 for umpteenth times – Are you single?

SMS is a powerful tool. Youngsters nowadays could be seen walking with their fingers literally typing on their mobile phones while talking to their other friends. When I say youngsters – I am one of them *ahem*

I am totally against using SMS to break up or maybe to declare a divorce like some published stories in the newspapers not long ago – which is totally inconsiderate, and the people who did this surely have no balls.

I don’t like forwarded/ junk sms either. I don’t understand why people would bother to send sms of junk when you could do it via e-mail for free. Depending on my mood and the level of humour of the junk, I would also reply accordingly. (Being pat chi sor wai and totally mou liu!)

Other than playing the role of a simple form of communication, SMS can also be a tool to show your annoyance. For example, when Lai Ma came to my house to suffocate me with her “success stories” – I would text my friends incessantly while pretending to listen to her. She would get annoyed and cut her stories short. SMS saves the day!

What goes around, comes around. At times (very rarely), I get that from some friends also – geez – are they annoyed by MY stories? Anyway, it is simply rude to SMS in front of friends when you are supposed to take part in the conversation over coffee.

I even SMS my boss to leave important messages whenever he is overseas, rather than spending money calling him (and him spending money to receive a phone call!).

SMS has played quite a pivotal role today....

Sorry, I am not very good in writing posts with facts. *lol* So I will stop here.