Monster Writes

This Chinese New Year

2012-01-22T01:18:00.000+08:00

Its the eve of the eve.

Time fled from me and I didn't even bid goodbye to 2011 properly. And in a couple of days, the Lunar New Year would be upon us. When the season's tackiness is personified in every shade of red, orange and gold.

When the soft sliding of well worn mah jong tiles accompany the blaring of the latest New Year remix (which sounds the same every year) and visitations by flirtatious lions with fluttering eyes and wagging tails.

Despite all my disdain for a culture which has lived up to its stereotype, I am still its heir and as I grow older, embracing my birth right becomes more poignant.

I crave for kopi o today. Black and sweet as sin. And I enjoy it best every year, pour our with a ladle through a tapis into a beer stein to be enjoyed sitting on the floor, in the eye of a whirling chaos comprising of screaming children, gambling adults and an ambling pet dog.

And like that kopi o, the chaos becomes tradition, to be taken for granted and willed to last forever until too soon it becomes a memory, which in time, would be come distant and romanticised.

This would be my first year without the familiar din. Its been about 10 months since the passing of my grandmother, the family matriarch and the centre than held everyone together. And as things fall apart, without the centre to hold, swirling satellites drift to find new orbits, keeping some of the old and creating new traditions of their own.

It is too soon for me to say whether I miss the rambunctiousness. But I do miss her. And I fully appreciate the significance of tradition as a way of reaching across time and space to honour, remember and perhaps find a little comfort.

To the boy who gave me Neruda

2011-10-31T00:48:00.000+08:00

It's close to six years since we last spoke. He was amused that I was as arrogant as he was and I could hold my own at Trivia. Yet despite that, or rather in spite of that, he gave me the gift of Neruda and I have been love struck ever since. Very few poets can articulate the song and sorrow of your own heart.

And yet to the boy who gave me Neruda, I am indebted to you. I only wish I knew your name..

Don't Mess with Foo Fighters

2011-10-03T23:37:00.000+08:00

Ok, to prove a point:
This is Dave Grohl:

This is Ramli Sarip:

And no Dave DOES NOT look like Ramli Sarip!
I never thot during Nirvana days that I would ever call Dave even borderline hot. Oh, but he is all grown up. Bless!

2011-09-29T00:22:00.000+08:00

We need to talk more.

Love

2011-09-22T21:37:00.001+08:00

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.

- Neruda

And now, getting inked myself

2011-09-20T01:51:00.001+08:00

Well I have been mulling over the below for more than a year now.

I keep falling in love with this lotus tattoo. Pretty old skool yet, my only concern is that for it to blossom, it needs to be a certain size. And I don't want a big one.

Yet I am getting alot of flak for wanting one. WTF must it be called a tramp stamp just because its on a girl.

Despite it being such common theme, be it with or without religious connotations, I have always liked its oft quoted symbolism. Still it remains quietly beautiful.

Chill for a while

2011-09-19T23:52:00.003+08:00

Oldie but oh so goodie.

I ink therefore I am

2011-09-10T02:21:00.001+08:00

In the era of erganomic keyboards, I suppose that using a fountain pen is on the quaint side. And let me qualify that when I say using a fountain pen, its for actual daily writing as oppose to pocket displays or for signing ceremonies.

Besides Chris, I am the only other person I know who still has use for ink bottles and blotting paper. It is a joy you know - inking paper, each stroke imbued with distinctness as pressure and angles form words and pictures.

Penmenship is not for posers. Nor it it bourgeoisie. Granted that it is nostalgic and romantic. A throw back to a time when pride was to be had in having a good hand and better care was accorded to word crafting, and backspace referred to a store room than a keyboard function. And besides, love letters are best written with a wet pen than a ballpoint any day.

My everyday cherry red Lamy Safari fountain pen has gotten quite a few second glances. Relatively inexpensive at below RM100, it is minimalist and writes like a dream. I think that this makes a very good introduction for fountain pen newbies. Better than getting the much cheaper Pilot beginner's pen which bleeds all over the place, turning frustrated students off what could be a truly wonderful lifelong love affair.

Anyway back to the Lamy Safari, it has a stainless steel nib without any fancywork. It is light having an angular plastic body that helps with the grip and is not at all unpleasant. I use the fine nib and am very satisfied with the ink flow.

Compared to my Lamy 2000, the Safari gives much more satisfaction. Despite the 2000 being of a different class all together being platinum coated and hand polished with a 14c gold nib, my Extra Fine is heart-breakingly scratchy. I love the Bauhaus industrial design design, yet I expected much better. I got mine at the Pen Gallery at the Weld, and even after sending it back after they gave me a less than satisfying nib the first time, I can't say that I am totally satisfied.

Will be going to Singapore to get the opinion of a nibmiester. Yes, that is the name and yes again, that is an actual profession.

In Malaysia, The Pen Gallery in the heart of Kuala Lumpur does stock a good range from Namiki to Montegrappa. Irritating thing is that the store does not open during weekends.

However for the Lamy, being fairly common, they can be bought at selected departmental stores which do offer discounts during sales. I got my Safari at Parkson with a 30% off and its a perfect pen. Only downside is that they may have a smaller range of nibs.

Yes, the geek is strong in this one.

916 - MARU!

2011-09-03T22:59:00.000+08:00

1827

2011-08-22T00:50:00.000+08:00

I laughed

2011-07-28T21:49:00.000+08:00

Credit: Threadless

A website I <3 but only ships to Malaysia via normal post. Of course mine disappeared but they resent it via registered mail to a Sg address. Bless..

The Furry Friends Farm

2011-07-19T23:16:00.002+08:00

The Furry Friends Farm.

Absolutely delightful name for an animal shelter, don't you think!

I made a visit last week and yes, I fell in love many times over. Its a joy being at the shelter that does not have an air of despondency. I could sense that the animals are at a place where their welfare is paramount and they are taken care with love. Every animal has a name there and Sabrina, doyen of the farm, knows every one of the dogs.

Helps that the animals are among the friendliest. Being an avid dog lover, I didn't expect to be the subject of affection of a juvenile calico cat. I was lost the moment she jumped on a stool, closed her eyes and rubbed her face against my chest with the tiniest of smiles. Of course my heart was reduced to a syrupy puddle.

Being just from the dog enclosure, no way she could have mistaken me for a giant tuna.

The furry friends farm is a no-kill centre, meaning that if the dogs or cats are not adopted, they will still have a home for life at the shelter. Even the difficult, uncute and old won't be put down.

However this means that the shelter can only take in a maximum number of animals. At present it is already at full capacity at over a hundred dogs and cats hence they are forced to turn away new strays. They have already taken in the dogs that were abandoned at Pulau Ketam if you recall that sad incident.

Anyway, more about the farm here: http://www.furryfriendsfarm.org.my/
And as with every shelter, volunteers, donations and assistance in kind is always in short supply. They are trying to obtain NGO status but its taking time. Hence they can't really offer tax exemptions now for donations which discourages most corporate sponsors. So they rely on people like you and me.

The farm is in Kundang, past Sungai Buloh. You will DEFINITELY need a map. Here is the link and please note that the flyover bridge is completed so please don't go looking for rubble.

Larger map

Next time I am there, I will get the GPS coordinates. To visit please call Ms Sabrina a few days in advance. She has a farm to run hence don't expect immediate call backs. Visitors are welcomed on Sundays after 12pm. If you intend to be up close and personal, a change of clothes is good and don't bring your best shoes as you will have to disinfect your footwear in bleach as you leave.
Whatever it is I'd definitely encourage you to go to have your heart stolen.

2011-07-11T03:56:00.002+08:00

WOW. What a weekend.

As most who know me personally would attest, I have been going on quite abit about the BERSIH initiative, which culminated in the demonstration that was on Saturday 9 July.

As to why BERSIH is important to me and to a lot of Malaysians, I direct you to the words of others with superior eloquence. Art Harun's Bersih and Fall of Reason is a very good read.

People who attended the rally cited overwhelming pride, unity and patriotism..as well as tear gas, water cannons, arrests by the police and manhandling by riot teams. Despite not attending the rally - I was left behind by SOMEONE who got tear gassed trice as a consequence (bribe me and I won't tell dad) - my BB was close to calling it quits due to my 12 hour Twitter vigil.

Social media has played its part in transforming Egypt and I dare say that it will continue to be a platform for people's movements everywhere including Malaysia. BERSIH would have been less organised and its effects less far-reaching without Twitter for one. From eye-witness accounts, to warnings and words of comfort, strangers are linked to each other by a common aim and a hashtag. How amazing is that!

Anyway, back to BERSIH, the mainstream media's coverage of the affair is filled with half truths but that is to be expected, being the governments' lackeys. The most blatant lie is that only 6000 protesters marched the streets of KL. In the age of camera phones and Youtube, who are they kidding?

While many did not make it to Dataran Merdeka, being chased by FRUs, the demonstration was largely peaceful, and if you are on Twitter, do follow the #bersihstories and you will find many heart warming experiences of those who were there.

Yes it was a success in the sense that there was no parang wielding molotov cocktail hurling mob as warned by the IGP or the government, and it was a damn good show of support for electoral reforms, the largely non-partisan effort is being sadly hijacked by opposition parties taking credit for the move and claiming support for their causes. This is highly regrettable to me.

Anyway, for more thrill and spills, the best reads are from the following:

Well done and thank you to all who were there, braving risks of arrest and violence, walking for the rest of us who can't and making a stand for our rights. And I have never been prouder of the legal fraternity especially the legal aid emergency arrests teams.

If I EVER get a VW, I will learn to drive

2011-06-18T23:55:00.000+08:00

And since we are rhyming, here is another to make you :)

2011-06-16T00:11:00.000+08:00

If I Should Have a Daughter by Sarah Kay

2011-06-15T23:27:00.000+08:00

If only we did more literature in school. In whatever language.

Between the Sheets

2011-06-15T22:58:00.001+08:00

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet,

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

- Yeats

Always as beautiful as the first time I read it, eons ago.

Thanks to Eng Kian for the poem. I lost him to the hustle and bustle of life, and I have no idea what has happened to him. Of course Mentalf gave me a whole book of Yeats which still sits on my bookshelf, dog eared and trying its darnest not to turn yellow.

Most of my best loved poems have been introduced to me by people who appeared very briefly in my life, as if their sole purpose were to say "here, have this!"

So wherever you guys are, thank you for the Nerudas, Keats, Gibrans, Yeats and Blakes. And my heart brims with love and gratitude for your thoughtfulness and beauty of the poetry you left me.

Wistfulness

2011-06-13T00:49:00.000+08:00

You know, don't you

Balik China

2011-06-13T00:20:00.000+08:00

Great Wall. Photo has not been retouched.

Not too long ago (ehem, April), I finally visited Beijing, as luck would have it - during the short weeks of Spring. As winter quickly melts to sweltering summer there, Spring makes a very short but treasured cameo appearance.

And its hard not to fall in love with the city when even the weather is generous to a fault. The air was crisp enough for everyone to beam with rosy cheeks and still the sun shone against skies so blue, it made hearts lift.

Before the trip, I expected to be awed by finally experiencing all that I had read and learnt in my Asian History classes. Just like how I was totally blown away when I walked through the exhibits at the Louvre once upon a long time ago going oh I know this and wow, I remember that.

What I did not expect was feeling an immense sense of belonging and identity. And perhaps even pride.

Walking down the same cobbled pavements as long dead emperors, looking up at monuments so breathtakingly beautiful and ancient, made by a people who lived through invasion, glory, starvation, rebellion and triumph. A kingdom my ancestors called home.

Its awesome, the realization that I am the legacy of a long line of people whose destinies at one point or another were determined by Sons of Heaven whose gates I now walk through.

Its a homecoming to my heritage.
And what a magnificent heritage it is.

Temple of Heaven

gorgeous flowers

2011-05-17T02:42:00.002+08:00

Hope you like the new look of the blog. Yes it borders on twee but after half a year of dark grey, its doesn't make the flowers grow. With all my favourite sites articulating the doom that is our local political climate, maybe blooms can dispel gloom, even if its only temporarily.

Happy Chinese New Year of the Bunny

2011-01-20T00:21:00.002+08:00

Wif Luv from the Bunnies and I

2011-01-16T22:27:00.003+08:00

The coming Chinese New Year will be the Year of the Rabbit. So to herald all things rabbity, expect bursts of bunny themed randomness starting with this one

Happy 2011

2010-12-31T22:53:00.003+08:00

Quoting Anais Nin, I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.

But speaking of molding my life, there are some things that I keep failing at getting right, such as:

make laughing a daily affair, even at work, despite or rather in spite of the menopausal characters there that make it a strong contender for Satan's favourite summer home
stop being a hypochondriac suspecting every sneeze to be an air-borne infectious disease
stop turning into a Victorian boarding school matron and relax a little. (Drugs anyone?)
unplug the umbilical cord that is my internet connection and enjoy the sunshine
have the courage to switch off my phone with full confidence that it will not herald the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse and the world would still revolve as it should
to respond rather than react. Main advantage being that my voice would not hike up several decibels and vex the dogs.

And lately spirituality has taken a back seat. I have been asked why does God need to be worshiped. But who ever said that worship is for God's benefit. I need a spiritual compass more than God will ever require my feeble adorations. So there is another one for the drawing board - salvation and serenity.

I am tempted to go on a litany on present consciousness but that would be another blog post. I need a swami's robe and a cymbals to go with it.

So here's much work to be done in the coming year. Here's wishing that yours too will be filled with good tidings and good health.

Its snowing in Europe

2010-12-11T01:12:00.001+08:00

Without me. When la can I get to cream a passerby with a slushball again?? I mish you snow.

Come as you are

2010-12-07T22:34:00.003+08:00

Now this classic picture makes me feel old. Is this considered vintage yet?

I had this exact poster on my wall in college.

Growing up in Taiping , tell me how grunge was not God-send?

Cobain is Hawtness personified. Damaged nonetheless. Explains Courtney. And yeah, the shotgun.

And speaking of Courtney, I was just remarking how Amanda Palmer is today's version of the Courtney of the 80s. And I just found out that Frances Bean Cobain was a vocalist on Evelyn Evelyn (of which Amanda Palmer is part of the duo). This disturbs me.

Straten Malaysia: Malaysia's Invisible Children

2010-11-14T01:23:00.000+08:00

Straten Malaysia: Malaysia's Invisible Children: "The Paradigm Shift Project Malaysia is one of Southeast Asia's most developed nations, and yet, is home to some of the most marginalized ..."

Monologue

2010-10-27T20:28:00.002+08:00

I am suspending scepticism for a while.

But that would mean that I must not read the news. Bad news make great headlines. Inequitable policies and greedy politicians make for great conversations. Especially when its easier to talk against the government than for the Opposition.

Until we have a true statesman, and no, I do not think that we have one on either side of the fence, voting - at least for me, will be a matter of who I distrust the least.

Truth of the matter is, nation building still hinges on whats-in-it-for-me multiply 27 million people.

Skepticism is easy. Too easy. Its easier to avoid heartbreak if I let go my ideals of a utopia, and as it is, only a fool would pursue Xanadu. (cue music). And leaving the country seems like an easy way out.

And yet..

when the non-locals in my workplace bitterly complain about this country of ours, there has been times when I am ready to not so subtly tell them to go back where they came from.

Hm, not unfamiliar rhetoric. Disturbing too. Moral high ground just got steamrollered.

How can I decrying a Singaporean bashing my country, when I do the same. Do I only rely on my IC as proof of my locus standi over his?

Is my cynicism justifying the criticism.

Someone Twittered that citizenship is a responsibility.

Perhaps that is not just a pretty phrase.

Fantasies of being a Balrog

2010-10-24T03:05:00.004+08:00

The intellectual rot is beginning to take its toll.

Its sad when there is no place to have a decent conversation that does not revolve around character assassination around the water cooler.

I guess the growing ethical conflict at the office is beginning to affect me in that I am having fantasy conversations telling people to shut up.

But reporting to the pre-menopausal comes with its own occupational risks that would involve inhospitable working conditions.

We will see how this works out.

You see, a Balrog would not have to face problems like these. It can happily go its way, eating trespassing wizards and tending to its flames and evil darkness.

Nobody would dare give the Balrog attitude. Or ask it to do mindless photocopying or comb binding.

And with a snort the Balrog would be able to dismiss (in ashes) any condescending member of management or self-centred customer. There would be no complaints and nobody would dare call for meetings at 5 minutes to its clock off time.

Yup, it would be great to be a Balrog.

What’s the Story Morning Glory?

2010-10-24T03:03:00.001+08:00

It’s a startling discovery.

I sing with a British accent.

And I thought I got rid of that when I got back. But then, I can’t do any Oasis song without it.

Hm, Catch 22.

Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra

2010-10-10T21:48:00.002+08:00

Was asked before a performance:

"how come most of the musicians are foreigners?"

"Um,because most of our Malaysian musicians are in Australia and the States because there is hardly a job market here for them?"

Surely talent appreciation knows no distinction in nationality? We only wish.

That of course brings me to the newly mooted Talent Corp.

Talent Corp, in its bid to woo our best and brightest overseas to return home, has an uphill battle. Does this qualify as the understatement of the year?

With a political climate that sees the racial card being raised more times than the red card in La Liga, there'd be many in Malaysia who would volunteer to trade places. And if the situation is such that the PM has to reassure the Malaysian minority with a public statement that we are not 'pendatangs' or immigrants, a constitutional right that should be a given by now, I am not sure I feel very reassured. The politics of fear plied by the political parties and newspapers seem to make it an us against them battle. Real or Wayang - who is to say?

Political statements without the will and infrastructure to carry those through is commonplace. Looking through the frustrations vented out in forums just on the Malaysia My Second Home is a good indication as to the eventual fate of similar promises.

Expediting immigration processes for foreign spouses? When we still have so many local applicants waiting right into their golden years for their blue ICs? Its hard not to be cynical about it.

And is retaining brilliant home-grown talent anywhere in Talent Corp's KPIs? I would be really interested to learn the studies taken to understand why people are leaving in the first place. I wonder if it will ever be published because the truth can be too embarrassing.

Applying a basic principle of marketing - easier to retain a current customer than woo a new or disenchanted one, no?

But if as The Star puts it, that meritocracy be the foundation of establishing a truly global and competitive economy to make any attempt of wooing our talents home successful, then Talent Corp is doomed. Meritocracy is still a dirty word in this country. Its too politicized. Oddly, only by the politicians.

Anyway, I still love the MPO and music is still one of the very few pleasures that transcends space, time and communal politics. For now.

Design Services

2010-10-10T21:22:00.002+08:00

What an exhausting weekend.

The house still looks like a barn so housework did not get done over these two days.

Do I need Nate Berkus.. yeah! Do I need sponsored stuff from Pottery Barn.. you bet!

Am I watching too much Oprah because neither Nate or PB is even on the same continent as I am? Go figure.

In anycase, made a trip to visit a friend's gorgeous new crib and me likes. Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. And her cat sure can teach my pets some lessons in the virtues of a clean floor. * terrazzo are friends, not free-for-all-litter*

Question now is, which is the best bank to rob for me to achieve similar simplicity? OCBC maybe? I wonder will this post be flagged for that? I am kidding, Jo. Honest. I'll hit RHB.

Now I understand why when mothers get together, they do nothing but coo about kids. All I do these days is discuss plaster ceiling and electrical points. Its a great conversation piece. I must have like inspired many to try their hand at their very own 3D Kitchen Design programme.

Like real.

I wish there was a Pottery Barn in this continent.

Twit Twit

2010-10-05T22:13:00.006+08:00

Oh updates!

1. S&P - check

2. Loan documents - check

3. Passing out while budgeting for renovation and legal fees - CHECK

(I have decided to forgo the plaster ceiling and glass balcony and settle for furniture.)

Owning a home in this economic climate is like giving birth.

Possible with many a desirable outcome, but not without a lot of noise and trepidation. And fleeting moments of contemplating murder. God knows the gestation period is long enough.

Anyway, fell ill again. Hence the rantless month of September.

(In my next rebirth, I am demanding better antibodies. Or at least come back as Uma Thurman).

Anyway, in the tradition of utter randomness, here is a picture of a dog:

The Charlatan

2010-08-31T23:02:00.002+08:00

When I have become what they want me to be

A perfect paper cut, rubber stamp, carbon copy

Of the masses' hypocrisy and plastic respectability

Under the guise of growing up and living up

Earning my dimes by sucking up

Then I am indeed, a Charlatan

When I finally decide on a tattoo..

2010-08-27T13:42:00.003+08:00

I like the position & concept of the one here but the Om artwork can be better...

I love the one below but I wonder if my dad or the resident Iyer priests will burn me on the pyre for blasphemy. You only see great artwork of deities on white people or the Japanese.

I mean, on anyone but wholesome Hindus.

Credit: Harizanmai Tattoo Studio

Credit: http://www.riskapele.com.br/tatuagens/ganesh/3209/1.html

There are No Housing Developers in Heaven (may they Roast in Crispy)

2010-08-27T12:31:00.003+08:00

Ok, Me disappeared for a while.

Its ok. Me not killed anyone yet. Still working on diabolical plan.

(and OD-ing on Cookie Monster videos. Hence the homage.)

Anyway, as you know, me trying to buy home. And me have got to the stage that lawyers are drafting the S&P, and I find out that after my land search, that the residual leasehold period is 79 years as oppose to the 90 over years as informed by my vendor and her agent.

So in a huff and a puff, me told the agent and vendor to get their facts right.

Vendor was also shocked when she got confirmation from the developer, that the master title indeed only had 79 years left on the lease.

Vendor was told when she bought the property that there was still 99 years on the lease. But now the developer does not want to take responsibility for what their sales people represented to the initial buyers.

And here is the odd thing. When the management office of the condo was contacted, they still maintained that there was 94 years left on the lease.

So now, I have to decide if I want to continue with the purchase or terminate it on misrepresentation. At least 3 years of law didn't totally rot away.

But to come so close....

So now housing developers too are there on my list of despicable scumbags.

The future is bright. The future is octopus.

2010-07-19T19:47:00.005+08:00

Dhanyabad Biman.

A condo unit costing RM360k in Petaling Jaya - FREEHOLD?

2010-07-13T18:19:00.002+08:00

But I am still waiting with bated breath

UPDATE: Worked! But leasehold. With despicable developers thrown in as bonus

All Hail Paul

2010-07-12T18:05:00.005+08:00

What a day for the inglorious cephalopod. Undoubtedly oblivious to his celebrity status and the various recipes he has help inspired throught the 2010 World Cup. All except Spain of course where I bet he's more popular than King Juan Carlos right now.

For more:

http://g.sports.yahoo.com/soccer/world-cup/blog/dirty-tackle/post/Paul-the-Oracle-Octopus-goes-eight-for-eight-is?urn=sow,255211

Review: Grace Salon Bangsar

2010-06-27T21:26:00.007+08:00

I was looking for a review of this salon for the longest time and finding hardly any, I have decided to do one myself.

Its been a while since I actually attempted to whip my natural mop into shape so after months of hair resembling a meringue, I decided to do the honorable thing and get it fixed.

Since my normal hairdresser is in Cheras and we have a lingering communication problem (her English proficiency is 40% while my Cantonese proficiency is thereabouts too), I decided to try out Grace Salon, formally of BSC, now in Bangsar Village II.

One thing I love about this place is that EVERYONE speaks English well and the stylists are NOT snobs who think that you will be grateful for what they give you as oppose to what you want. At GraceSalon, the stylists provide you with explanations as to what works best and why (or why not) and best of all - alternatives.

In my experience of visiting other salons, I have had enough of stylists of the Repetitive Rebonding Sales Mantras. Meaning that all they do is recommend rebonding regardless of how badly fried one's hair already is.

And don't you hate hair dressers who would violently lament the current style/cut/state of your hair before suggesting a ridiculously expensive solution? Fail, I tell you. These people FAIL.

Anyway, none of that at GraceSalon. I like this place because from the moment you sit down, the stylist will take care of you, from shampoo to treatment to cut. Real nice.

Compared this to other places where the your head will be handed over to the shampoo girl, intern and the odd passer-by to 'ready' your hair while the stylist busies himself with another 2 customers.

Price wise - it is comparable to the Cut Above and the like, so no, its not cheap but you get great service and great hair. Well at least for me because my hair has a will of its on and its either that or beat it to submission with a stick.

Rebonding/Relaxing is about >RM300 for shoulder length hair and a hair cut is >RM70. Not too painful.

Well if you are a guy reading this, you will never understand why women need a haircut that costs more than RM10, so no need to try. So you are allowed to cringe.

To read more about GraceSalon: http://gracesalon.com.my/main.html

Smith & Wesson

2010-06-27T21:18:00.003+08:00

This is Smith

And this is Wesson

So christened by your humble narrator, these little morsels were adopted to be companions to my existing pet bunny who (still) thinks she is a puppy. Unfortunately they did not get along as hoped. The guinea pigs were terrified witless while my Bun was more entertained counting hay.

So less traumatic lodgings was finally found in the form of Danny and Co’s welcoming home. They have been well loved judging from how they have grown from the size of wee baby booties to now resembling fluffy bedroom slippers.

I am babysitting the furry rodents for the week until Danny returns from vacation. Man, I forgot how much they poop.

Distractions with a capital um, D

2010-05-17T22:50:00.001+08:00

On another note - i just bought The Clockwork Orange. The book.

2010-05-17T22:43:00.002+08:00

Right, where were we. Ah yes, righteous pandering. But that is no fun anymore.
Random old skool MTVs are depressing. Being grown up is boring especially when I catch myself wondering why other people can't be more responsible. Hah! I missed all the warning signs.

An even thinking of perming my hair. That is just friggin wierd. Where did this aunty come from. Do you even know me?

Hamster Wheel

2010-05-02T20:09:00.008+08:00

The amount of travelling this year has increased leaps and bounds from last year. I guess when the Company said Regional, it didn't really hit me that it would involve dragging my ass over to developing countries.

Can't say that I am disappointed.

Yet, for all the moving around, there are some lessons learnt:

There is no place like home, no duvet like my own and nasi lemak ayam rempah is a national treasure.

And that travelling Malaysians have a very bad habit of complaining. No nation I know of has a people than runs down its own,where nationalistic pride is an exception than the rule. Of course I am generalizing but I bet that if you are Malaysian, I am sure that you would know at least one specimen of this infinitesimal annoying species.

What brought this rant on is one couple I had the misfortune of overhearing at the KLIA terminal the last time I was flying in. I must say that KLIA is one of the better airports around and despite how effective the system that as in place, even THAT still was a point of consternation for this couple.

Anyway, bad vibes aside here is my favorite photo from Bali.

Happy Birthday !

2010-04-17T15:19:00.009+08:00

Hah! Another year, baby!

It's been a super rollercoaster.

It's been carpe diem.

It's been Kill Bill and House and Supernatural all rolled into one.

It's being blessed beyond my capacity to imagine. It's gratitude and tears and fears, sunshine and superheros.

It's still wondering what growing up is suppose to mean.

I am turning into my Dad.

2010-04-07T22:37:00.003+08:00

Do you ever feel that after years of ambition, when you finally get to where you thought you should be, you find out that this was not what you expected at all?

Working regionally has its perks but more often than not, it reminds me how much I love being home. I miss my bunnies too.

Someone once told me that work travel does not acquaint one with cities but more often airports.

I understand that completely now. My next trip is coming on too soon.

Bat Cat!

2010-04-05T21:01:00.000+08:00

2010-03-07T00:19:00.000+08:00

Ola!

2010-02-25T16:53:00.000+08:00

Its February. The tail end of it anyway. And I have been away from blogging for a while.
Yes, beyond noticing my knack for stating the obvious, the more astute of you would also realise that I am writing again ..um obviously.

Explaining my disappearance would not only dissipate the air of mystery that I have carefully architectured but it would also take too much effort. Especially on my part.

Suffice to say that new leaves have been turned, fresh chapters begun and life is being lived as it should, as oppose to wringing my hands complaining that its driving past too fast and at my displeasure.

Its good to be back. Expect more changes...

The Story So Far

2009-10-21T21:58:00.000+08:00

Teoh Beng Hock's Inquest

2009-10-21T21:24:00.003+08:00

80%?

In most books, an 80% chance would be a resounding yes.

80% would be enough to remove an MCA leader.

So why do the newspapers insist that its 80% and not, yes Teoh Beng Hock was murdered? No cry for justice? No movement to seek out the perpetrators? Are they really banking on the 20% chance of a reasonable doubt?

Our government controlled newspapers are the epitome of national conscience and freedom of the press, don't you think?

Evilness in the Air

2009-10-21T20:56:00.002+08:00

We know how unbelievable our politicians can be when making statements but this had me gagging.

http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/10/20/nation/4934516&sec=nation

Politicians are evil and particularly so if its MCA since I don't know any one of them who does not have major business interests to protect with the full might of their YBhgs.

And for them to smell something foul, its irony of the year.

2009-10-16T07:50:00.004+08:00

Happy Deepavali

A time for family, reflection, joy and ladoos

Have a safe one

2009-10-12T17:55:00.001+08:00

It has the word Ninja and Cat. How can I resist?

70s children - we are the new old

2009-10-11T18:21:00.004+08:00

Quoting movies is corny. But this is not to be confused with paraphrasing and dissecting Hollywood wisdom. So I have not been reading much these days but hey, with 4 seasons of SuperNatural to watch, (which translates to 4 seasons of Jensen Ackles), all femalekind at least would understand.

Anyway, that was not the movie I was refering to.

After a long hiatus from cinemas of any kind, Surrogates starring Bruce Willis intrigued me. The fact that the trailers showed Willis with hair was reason enough to watch although upon paying 10 bucks for the movie, I found the plot weak.

Anyway anyway - in the opening, the Voice, always wise and philosophical, as all movie voice over guys sound, emphatically declared that we are increasingly experiencing the world through our screens. Or something to that degree.

As TheBwadah's fren would say, and I quote, "No shit, Sherlock".

But it is an astute observation. Urban living has necessitated quick and easy entertainment that allows us to live life vicariously. Hell, we watch TV shows about people a million miles away eating food and drinking coffee. We watch Xandra Ooi holidaying in lake kenyir. We root for our favourites from who can race around the world the fastest to who can lose the most weight. All at the click of a button (TV remote or mouse -your poison).

What gives?

Has this something to do with my perpetual assessments of life priorities again? Oh, most likely but I am just pretty freaked that I have not seen it coming.

The mad dash to touch and hold on to the expanding red ribbon that is the middle class has reduced most of our best and brightest into easy to please high achieving automatons with little time for anything else. A Brave New World with a twist. Your life for a soma tablet.

Worship to Randomness

2009-09-22T19:01:00.002+08:00

The above is an inflatable Jabba the Hutt costume. How can anyone NOT want that? Forget Princess Leia's slave costume, THIS is the thing to bug your parents/wife for.

Isn't that enough to make you forget to wonder why was I surfing for StarWars costumes in the first place?

For the 21st of September

2009-09-22T13:16:00.004+08:00

This was supposed to be yesterdays posting but I fell asleep.

Cat's Dream

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings
a series of burnt circles
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.

Paulo Neruda (translated by Alistair Reid)

Shh, listen to my blood

2009-09-21T20:07:00.001+08:00

Mood, Brood and Rabbit Food

2009-09-21T19:16:00.005+08:00

Okay peeps! The Monster is back from redecorating the cave.

Blight

Fight

Flight

Toxic waste site

Ok, alright.

Enough of free associations.

Move along now!

I almost forgot I have a blog

2009-09-05T00:54:00.002+08:00

The days have been short and nights, shorter still. Working hours no longer mean 9 to 5 these evil days. Employment contracts are not unlike Sale and Purchase agreements for your very soul. Strains of Hotel California bounces off ghastly walls.

I once asked my boss,(a dragon lady who munches on fools for breakfast), how to have a work-life balance.. to which she just snorted. So much for that.

I used to complain that I didn't have a mentor. All I can say is, be careful what you wish for. Especially if you land one who is a perfectionist, blunt as a doorknob and as judgmental as Augustine Paul. Yes, I do have all the luck.

Oddly, I now hold a job that any wide-eyed and bushy-tailed career woman would jump at having. And I am as enthusiastic about it as a lobotomy patient.

Don't believe anyone who tells you to make yourself indispensible. Job security is only one half of the penny. Keeping your sanity is the other. Do not underestimate the joys of having a workfree weekend or a vacation devoid of a frantic call from the office.

Simple pleasures once signed away are hard to regain. Unfortunately decent paycheques, once attained are also hard to relinquish.

So lesson of the day ladies and gentlemen, is caveat emptor. Let the buyer beware!

15 Malaysia

2009-08-24T21:35:00.004+08:00

You may already know of this initiative. Wonderful short films depicting what our home is all about.

Go enjoy yourself: http://15malaysia.com/

Just what my doctor ordered

2009-08-22T12:29:00.003+08:00

Here is a Saturday morning pick me up.

Khalil Jibran and the boy

2009-08-12T22:08:00.006+08:00

Songs have a knack of tenderly curling and weaving their tendrils around moments in time, so much so that they own the event and capture within its folds, the joys and heartbreaks of THAT one dot on the time space continuum.

And the same with poetry.

And more than one penniless beau have sent forth their affections enveloped by the deep sighs of Yeats and Neruda. But rummaging through a junk bookstore at Masjid India over the weekend, I came across a body of work by Khalil Jibran.

And along with pages came the memory of a gentle boy who used to read to me poetry over the phone. It was a pity that I am not a romantic as c'mon, how many men do you know would read Khalil Jibran to a woman 120 miles aways, every other night before she slept. I was ungrateful as I would often fall asleep half way only to be awoken by a concerned "Hello? Hello?"

And I don't even remember his name. I hang my head in shame.

So this is for the boy with the gentle voice:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden

2009-08-08T17:13:00.000+08:00

From icanhascheezeburger.com

And we lose another raconteur

2009-07-26T20:34:00.002+08:00

The passing of Yasmin Ahmad is a great loss to the nation.

As the creative force of some of Malaysia's most memorable ads and films, her honest portrayal of a multi-faceted Malaysia in its truest form, (sans the shameless gloss of Tourism Malaysia productions) has endeared her to many.

I will always recall her frustrations in trying to sell her ideas of unity and singular humility to corporate fatcats who in her words, “just don’t get it”.

And I have deep reverence for this formidable lady who has come out publically to say that its really ok for the younger generation to forget the hardship of the entire May 13 episode because its it not their legacy. Theirs is the promise of a better future and not the bogeyman of bloodshed past.

She will be very sorely missed. God bless.

Frank McCourt

2009-07-21T22:01:00.004+08:00

I'd like to pay tribute to literary celebrity, Frank McCourt, who died of meningitis at the age of 78.

I first got to know of this man through the valiant efforts of ex-coursemate and dorm mate Adeline, who told me under no uncertain terms, that I must read this funny novel. The book was of course, Angela's Ashes.

Very few writers can successfully weave humour into a heartbreaking biography. It can make you laugh and cry. Both would leave tears in your eyes. The book speaks of the writer's experience growing up in poverty on the streets of Limerick.

I certainly remember how many a resident and relative went to town, defending their town, when the novel and author achieved fame.

Angela's Ashes won McCourt the Pulitzer. Its a book that you will not easily forget.
The literary world has indeed lost another shinning star.

Aduh, Lame-nya

2009-07-21T21:34:00.004+08:00

Overheard at William's Kelana Jaya:

"The cheese you used sedap la. What cheese is that?"

"Orang Melayu panggil tu, Cis Bedebah"

Kah Kah Kah

New book

2009-07-19T18:09:00.001+08:00

Renewal is fascinating.

Little signifies catharsis as aptly as sweeping away the old to make room for the new.

Of turning new leafs. As many as the pages are numerous. White, pristine and acid-free.

Is it possible to go beyond the turning of a leaf to becoming a completely new tree? To blossom and burst with new found life, to tremble in the sunshine and proclaim to the sky that now, I shall be the Oak and not the sapling, the Raintree and not the senduduk.

Fresh starts are good. False starts are not. False starts are when the intentions are ambitious but one only achieves the grandeurs of a pokok renek. So one starts again and another leaf unfurls.

One only hope a branch would finally touch the clouds and lives out an epic.

Wisful thinking .. and rejection hurts!

2009-07-19T18:02:00.001+08:00

I will not write on sadness because there is too much of it in the world already. Antidotes are fabled and medical research is negligible. But I will write on anger.

It is a fury that consumes. In the pyre, the lapping flames further illuminate the injustice, the humiliation, the loss and anguish. What magnificent despair! And it fuels the soul to burn and burn and burn. And reprieve is sought among the smouldering cinders. But there is so little ashes can do, but be carried away by the whispers of the wind.

So that is where broken hearts go. They disappear. Eventually.

If You Forget Me

2009-07-14T09:35:00.001+08:00

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

- Pablo Neruda

Google Me This

2009-07-13T00:21:00.005+08:00

Google has been changing their logo/masthead to mark specific events in history for some time now, generating millions of hits for the cause selected. Like when Google celebrated Braille’s birthday with a cluster of dots. Loved it loved it loved it. No doubt there would be groups that would raise hell and high water to get theirs dates of consequence celebrated in all googlised glory. And I am glad Google is not going down the commercial highway of hell by offering the spot to the highest bidder.

Here is an interesting article on it.

My favourite masthead is the Braille one above. And this comes a close second. In celebration of Nikola Tesla's birthday on Friday.

As much as I would like to attribute my facination to my deep reverence for the history and development of physics, I admit that I was first introduced to the comrade through the Soviet’s badass Tesla coils which are highly effective in frying Allied butts to a crisp in the one of the best time wasters of all time - Command and Conquer.

Who says you don’t learn anything from gaming? Plus it’s a great guy magnet. But ladies, it HAS to be Real Time Strategy with awesome graphics and mindless violence. These days it’s even better if it’s MMORPG. Kick ass and win friends. SIMS does not qualify regardless of the number of time you could WooHoo.

(*Qualifier: I only date geeks. If you are thinking of hooking up with Sean Combs, note that this does not apply. Try implants instead.)

Look what the postman brought me

2009-07-09T21:56:00.006+08:00

Its so nice receiving packages. Especially if its books.

Help! I am held hostage by my rabbits

2009-07-05T20:39:00.003+08:00

Hm, has it occurred to you that this blog has been taken over by everything bunny?

Yet, you must concur, they are far more soothing on the soul than the state of our national politics.

El-Bunny!

2009-07-05T20:07:00.008+08:00

To be surrounded by so many bunnies, you bet I squealed like a little girl!

The Pets World Malaysia Expo held at Mid Valley Convention Centre was crowded with people and pets. One of the highlights was Malaysia's First National Rabbit Show.

Alongside the rabbit competition, there was a fancy dress contest for Thumper. Wabbit expressions ranged from "Woe, the Indignity!" to the bored "I don't give a fuck anymore" resignation.

Lop eared bunnies featured strongly with a couple of them reminding me of OREO, one of my earlier rabbits. Equal in temperament as well, thumping impatiently in the cages. One of them also tried to eat their contest tag. Yup, sebijik like my Oreo.

Besides bunnies, dog owners also brought their fur kids, from Schnauzers to St. Bernards. I was so fortunate to be acquainted with another Afghan. The breed is so magnificent and regal, it was just a joy looking at her.

Enjoy the slideshow!

Gilly of My Heart

2009-07-05T19:00:00.003+08:00

Gilly gently passed on last Wednesday. Its a mystery as to why as everyone was so careful with her. Perhaps she was already ill when she was brought home. Although I only had her for just a few days, my loss is profound.

And there goes another chunk of my salary

2009-06-29T22:07:00.005+08:00

In another spur of the moment madness – I have gotten myself another bundle of mischief.

I rescued her from a stinky pet store (I am still grappling with the implications of supporting a pet store). I first caught sight of her right at the back, behind a glass door and a cageful of siblings, and she was the only one going the other direction.

My new baby is smokey with one ear perpetually pointing north. With her hind legs far larger than her front paws, she moves as gracefully as a baby turtle heading towards open water. So in other words, my baby is gorgeous.

Introducing - Gilly.

Baby wabbit

first steps

Pfft! Here's looking at you

Remember the Time

2009-06-29T10:16:00.003+08:00

For me and most of my generation, Michael Jackson, as with Thudercats, KFC and Dr M, is an icon that not only hallmarked but practically defined our growing up years.

We were in the golden age of VCRs and cassette decks when Thriller debuted. I could not get my head around Bille Jean and I thought the chick that played in Thriller was such a wuss (a 7-year-old feminist I was). Maggi Mee hair was in and everyone saw or had a recording of THAT MTV programme which also featured hits like Telephone by Sheena Easton and Every Breath You Take by the Police and not forgetting, the original Uptown Girl by Billy Joel.

Every MJ album and movie was awaited and revered. He was the only one who could get away with grabbing his crotch on TV. To the young, we never understood why the adults sniggered so.

The Gloved One encapsulated all that was strange and wonderful and magical. He was true royalty with stardust on his lapels.

And as his eccentricities and lawsuits drove him further away from reality and relevance, time quietly swept him under the carpet. We all knew who MJ was but, lets be honest, we also ceased to care.

Did he molest the children? I don't know but with America's preoccupation with Sex and the Celebrity (truth optional), I can't really say that I am totally convinced.

So in typical fashion - with his death, we celebrate his life.

I didn't have a big enough handbag

2009-06-12T23:33:00.007+08:00

Several weekends ago, I had the pleasure being chauffeured all the way to Semenyih. Of course I had no idea where on God’s green earth is Semenyih, yet by hook, crook and GPS we made it to Beh & Yeo’s Rabbit farm.

Only food and furry animals can entice me to wake up before 8 on a Saturday, so we were there slightly after 9 am. The trip should have just taken us half an hour but Garmin was having a bad day. (bloody thing kept going “turn left in 200 meters” AFTER we missed the turning). Evil, evil thing.

Run by an owner who is based in Ampang, the farm is located in the midst of a kampung. Hey, its Semenyih.

When we arrived, the workers were busy cleaning the cages. They were friendly enough and allowed us to walk around freely. The surrounding enclosure was certainly clean but the compound was strewn with rubbish.

I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting.

Of course the bunnies looked well cared for and their cages clean yet I felt a little sad seeing them cooped up in their wire mesh boxes, living to breed, only for their offspring to be taken away and sold. We are the only species capable of doing this. Yet herein lies my conundrum. Do I save what I can by giving them good homes or do I stop buying in a bid to lessen the demand? Sigh. No use asking me to adopt as there are no wild rabbits for adoption in this country.

One thing we noticed was that the bunnies at the farm were all a little afraid. Curious as all bunnies are, all of them eyed us as though we came courting for a bride. But as we reached out to them, quicker than you say can Peter Rabbit, they would dart as far away as possible from us. Perhaps we smelt strange or we were complete strangers, it was a very different reception compared to my first encounter with my present rabbit.

My present bunny came over to say hello to me first before I even thought I needed another bunny, which is to say, pretty sweet of her.

I got Peanut from another breeder at Subang Parade. From across her cage, she crawled over to nibble my fingers which started the chemical reaction of turning my heart muscles into tofu and now she is growing fat lounging in my dining room - at my expense.

Anyway, here’s some photos of bunnies to turn your heart into soy products too.

I dislike cages desperately.

Lop-eared rabbit

Dog eared um, dog. This puppy is one of 5 others bought by the owner, presumably to guard the place. Lets just say that if I managed to coax him into the car, 5 would become 4 quickly enough.

Revisiting old favourites

2009-06-12T18:34:00.000+08:00

Pasti Ada Sudahnya - charting the future

2009-06-08T22:18:00.002+08:00

The latest PAS Muktamar delivered no surprises.

Make no mistake, PAS will always maintain its ambition of creating an Islamic state, despite toning down its clarion call during the last general election to garner multiracial support (which of course drew criticism from some quarters within PAS who see this as a concession in exchange for a bite of the cherry that is federal power.)

Of course we all know this.

I am sure that I am not the only one, who in support for the Opposition, derived more than a little comfort supporting a coalition that had PAS on one end of the table and DAP on the other, and Keadilan in the centre keeping them from killing each other.

Be it a belief in checks and balances, or foolhardy optimism, we rejoiced in that there was a viable alternative to an Umno-led government.

But back to the annual AGMs and Muktamars –we have the same rhetorical regurgitation that endears the politicians to their grassroots. I guess when in Rome.. or Kota Bahru in this case.

So does it make a difference to us, the new generation of non-muslims and non-traditional voters of PAS, whether the party is helmed by the ulamas or the “Erdogan”, if it is to be conservative or progressive, if at the end of the day an Islamic state is their ultimate aim?

I would venture a yes. Because despite being a party that still functions at the will of the grassroots, it will be the leadership that defines and articulates what an Islamic state is to be.

To quote Shanon Shah:

“PAS needs to be asked, point blank, what it really envisions as its ideal government, whether or not it calls it an "Islamic state". The questions must go beyond such easy-to-fudge concepts as "democracy" and "good governance".

What will the party's position be on apostasy? On the religious conversion of minors? On homosexuality and bisexuality? On moral policing? On disconcerting-concert-banning? On the rights of other religious communities? On turning personal sins for Muslims — not going to the mosque on Fridays or not fasting during Ramadan, for example — into crimes against the state? On the status of deviant sects? On marital rape? On polygamy in Islam?”

Answers that I have been seeking too but nobody seems to be able to enlighten me.

With PAS’ resolution for the National Fatwa Council to investigate, ban and rehabilitate members of Sisters in Islam, the language quickly brought to mind my long history lessons on Soviet Russia. Freaky I know.

With punitive action identified even before engagement with SIS has even commenced, it will be an uphill battle for PAS to convince the masses that it is not out to hang SIS. Despite the press statements where PAS leaders say that they disagree with the punitive actions, the fact that the resolution was adopted and without debate even, the impression that PAS is out to smother opposing/liberal views is already cast.

Bad PR? You bet.

While I am certain that rehabilitation by the National Fatwa Council is not via exile to the frozen plains of Siberia, the obvious question here would be rehabilitation by whose Islam?

Far be it for me to say whether SIS’s “views caused confusion and were a threat to Muslims' faith” yet SIS’s efforts in championing Muslim women’s rights and access to the legal system is very noteworthy, it being an unpopular and lonely road.

There is good chance that this resolution would further alienate the modern Muslim woman who is comfortable and confident enough in her religion to not let anyone be it SIS or PAS, to dictate to her the terms of her own belief.

I have yet to read the responses of my compatriots in SIS who fall squarely within "the younger generation and those who have a secular education". I am anticipating a hailstorm.

I have yet to meet a SIS member who is not educated, articulate, fiercely intelligent and not capable of giving you whiplash should you even suggest that peranan SIS bertentangan dengan syariat Islam.

Being a non-muslim and only a Friend to the Sisters in Islam, I very obviously lack locus standi on the matter of the authenticity of faith. Yet I strongly believe that the right to hold a differing opinion is enshrined in the constitution. But then I can anticipate the not unfamiliar, "Kafir, keep out," retorts to that.

And if SIS is banned on the basis of confusing Islamic society and also infiltrating the minds of Muslims, as a multiracial society, should we be concerned as to where it would stop? The potential to "corrupt" may come from unconventional scholars, to next door churches to even Akademi Fantasia – seek and thou shall find thy bogeyman.

Surely we have had enough of those to last us a lifetime?

What if I came back as a coconut tree?

2009-05-25T23:14:00.004+08:00

Now, if I make fun of this site - it would be bad for my karma.

So please check it out and let it blow your mind. Someone should let the Dalai Lama know about this.

http://www.reincarnationbank.com/

Its a new dawn, its a new day

2009-05-25T22:01:00.003+08:00

so says Nina Simone.

So things change. No surprises there. Rolling pebble down an abyss or hurling meteor across time and space, change is the single constant of the universe.

Yet I am going to be stubornly adamant and reel at the thought of how different a year makes. Am I any the wiser? Unlikely so. Becoming more of a fool - most certainly. Not necessarily a bad thing.

Our growing up only allows us to cultivate thicker linings to stomach pain, heartbreak, injustice and disappointments that come out way. Guess we get better at accepting fate and what she throws in our laps, be it strawberries or herrings.

And it takes an epiphany/breakdown to jolt us out of apathy and self-indulgent martyrdom, toss caution back in her face, and seek happiness before we die.

It may all sound like claptrap to you but wait till you hit your threshold. (Yes I am talking from experience, dammit!)

And when realisation strikes you that you are exactly where you navigated yourself to be, that its all YOUR fault, there is a very pronounced "Oh Damn!" moment followed but a moment of empowerment in that you know that you are the master of your destiny after all. After all you got yourself in this shit in the first place. So you can get yourself out.

Hurrah!

So I am backing out from this rut, comfortable as it has become. My half year resolutions already has a soundtrack. Changes have been set in motion. As my the Bwadah say, its all positive chi, man.

Today I lopped off 5 inches of my hair, finally.

And I am feeling good.

(Black) currant affairs

2009-05-18T21:14:00.003+08:00

I had so much to say with the mess that is my home state of Perak. But my venom is akin to orange juice compared to the comments that have been spewed all over cyberspace. This, you can find on your own.

So whats your bet? Will BN & Pakatan talk or not? And how many days will it take to collapse?

icanhascheezeburger

2009-05-18T21:07:00.001+08:00

Thoughts without a home

2009-05-18T19:43:00.003+08:00

Hare-brained as it may be, I am starting to loath corporate work and am gravitating towards a career that involves animals. Now that is something I will definitely be passionate about. I have had enough of being a gopher (Cassie, Go 'fer this, and Cassie, Go 'fer that.) Now how do I get rich doing what I love. CAN I get rich doing what I love? Any ideas?

I have enough marketing books at home telling me that YES I can if I put my head into it. Hm. Time to strategise. Whose dog can I kidnap?

These past few months/weeks/days have been filled with revelations. I learnt that:

• I have a heart made of tofu and that I can burst into tears, set off by anything from a cat nursing a kitten to saying thank you to relatives who have come from across the country to see me.

• That the best-est of friends are not the ones I see everyday but the ones that do their best to share in my happiest and most neurotic times, even if I don’t get to hear from them in between

• VO5 Moisture Soak is God-send

• That I am loved beyond my capacity to imagine

• That belonging can be more desirable that striking out alone

• That having extended relatives isn’t a bad thing

• Don’t assume hair stylists knows best

• Personal happiness takes work and courage (now, to tell my management that they are tyrants)

All wishy washy feel-good babble? Maybe. But I have been so out of touch with myself that I have been a really nasty person to be around. But here is the strange thing, cats seem to like me lots now.

Today at the Vet

2009-05-18T19:36:00.002+08:00

There is this marmalade cat
Who sits outside my vet’s
She peers through the glass
Won’t go in till she’s asked
But welcomes cat food and pats.

She is a mommy we know
With her own brood which don’t show
Stashed, we hope, safe and away
Yet to the vet she comes each day
To sayang a kitty abandoned not long ago.

The kitten was found on the floor
One night outside the clinic door
So Dr Yeoh’s taken him in
As it is so frail and so thin
But a mother he has no more.

Yet
This marmalade cat
Had a thing for this one
Nursed him as her own son
When she makes her trips to the vet.

I saw her today
This good hearted stray
And as she did her part
She also stole my heart
It’s a wonder I didn’t steal them away.

Ah, the weekend.

2009-04-26T22:20:00.001+08:00

I miss blogging. Very much.

Not for the inherent narcissism (although admittedly the previous Oasis-related posts was bragging rights well earned. Yet there are fewer Oasis fans here than I thought. Nobody batted an eye-lid to my real cool Official Oasis T-shirt pun. Cheh!)

Anyway. Writing for pleasure is a luxury and a wanton act of rebellion.

Having to endure hard work to still be in work is a small sacrifice at a time when not having to worry about my job is something to be envied.

So blogging, when I still have a kabillion things to do is smack in the face of good sense because guess who will need to stay up again tonight to draft daft statutory declarations? *yawn*

Nevertheless, it’s been a very busy weekend that involved oh, pretty interesting things which included a trip to Malacca, coconut shakes, nyonya food, kicking a fuss with the hotel management because they could not get my astro working and a pretty shiny rock.

Somewhat unexpected, the weekend also saw a renewed interest in faith and religious philosophy. Which is interesting on its own because I was on the path of the darkside. Or truth. Depending on which side of the coin you flip I suppose. At the end of the day we all die. Sometimes that is easy to forget.

The song to mark my 32 years!

2009-04-16T23:14:00.002+08:00

Oasis - Singapore Indoor Stadium

2009-04-16T21:33:00.002+08:00

As promised.... pictures!

Best-est pre-birthday present to myself EVER!

Boo!

2009-04-12T00:45:00.003+08:00

Sooo... the witch is back! I have been dying to spill the beans on so many things yet I think I have well established that I am very overworked and I foster very detailed fantasies on how to throw in my resignation. Still, I need to eat and so does my rabbit.. so I am still allowing myself to be exploited in the name of capitalism.

Nevertheless the cauldron has been bubbling, mind you.

So where do I begin? Maybe from the most exciting.

On the 5th of April, I flew down to Singapore with some like minded people and actually consented to stay in a budget hotel in Geylang of all places for the pure reason that it was one km from the Singapore Indoor Stadium. Going back to Singapore was certainly NOT easy. I couldn't really afford the time and I totally busted the bank but I knew since forever that I'd do anything to watch Oasis live, and so I did.

Besides paying the small price of SDG101 per ticket, having to camp out, brave hordes of very enthusiastic fans to be right in front of the stage, sacrifice breathing fresh air and having my feet trodded on the entire night - I had the most amazing time!

here is the setlist:
Fuckin' in the Bushes
Rock'n'Roll Star
Lyla
The Shock of the Lightning
Cigarettes & Alcohol
The Meaning of Soul
To Be Where There's Life
Waiting for the Rapture
The Masterplan
Songbird
Slide Away
Morning Glory
Ain't Got Nothin'
The Importance of Being Idle
I'm Outta Time
Wonderwall
Supersonic
Don't Look Back in Anger
Falling Down
Champagne Supernova
I Am The Walrus

I never though that I would catch them live and the reality of my being there, in its full glory and magnitude, decended only during Don't Look Back in Anger where I shamlessly wept, heh.

It was the culmination of living the moment, and being flooded with memories that their songs bring home. Silly to be so emotional but you don't know how long I have followed the band and their songs have hallmarked so many of the highest and lowest points of my life, its freaky.

Pictures soon!

2009-03-29T22:13:00.002+08:00

Its been a long while folks. It been a harrowing few weeks with lots of thrills, spills and chills. I am the poster girl for all research that says that stress breaks down the body and leaves one as endearing as an alligator on caffeine withdrawal.

Just a short note to say that I am alive and still snapping at everybody.

And speaking of Rohingya

2009-03-11T22:15:00.004+08:00

Go feed your mind with something worth knowing. I expect it to be a good introduction to the refuge crisis. The CM Annex is nice this time of year.
For previews: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phjKN_Cu0I0

Who do? Dose Two!

2009-03-11T20:30:00.003+08:00

Dey good. So come..

2009-03-05T20:41:00.000+08:00

Bump, bump, BUMP!

2009-03-05T20:07:00.004+08:00

I had an "I'm Okay" moment today. Heh.

As I was entering a packed lift at the office, nobody held the door open, so the the doors came crashing against me, caused me to fall down and my shriek shocked everybody.

And in a flash, this picture popped into my head. And I went "I'm okay". Not that anybody asked though.
I wanted to laugh but my arm hurt. Funny la in a tragic way.

p.s. Plaza IBM during lunch time is a bitch.

Bedtime stories

2009-03-01T23:01:00.000+08:00

Cyberspace is littered with a multitude of blogs devoted to the singular purpose of telling stories - unlimited pages that chronicle the tragedies and triumphs of the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. Or should it be the other way around.

This blog does not profess to be any different.

Storytellers every one of us, we regale readers with tales that are important to us, that defines us and that assures us of our existence under the skies of our individual universe.

We publish to an audience because we matter and the subjects of our litany – they matter. We harbour the hope that somebody finds us even remotely interesting. Being forgotten is a fate worse than death. Or so I am told.

From cave drawings to sculpted monuments – we are the only species that has an intrinsic need to live a life beyond ourselves, to need to leave a legacy. Something as eternal to the human spirit as our wondrous sense of curiosity. Qualities that set the immortal cycle - where storyteller will turn to the reader who will in turn, weave stories of her own.

Some recite the story of their lives through their music and some in art. We bloggers, we seek transitory glory in the very impermanent realm of cyberspace, with our finely wrought words and pictures. And not necessarily sequenced between Google ads and Nuffnang banners.

In moments of despair I have often wondered if there is any purpose to this existence - whether I would have a story left to tell from the routine mediocrity that characterizes my days from sun up to bedtime. Mine and a million other people’s.

Yet we go on, constructing our narratives with twists and plots and surprises that mark our life’s journeys as we do our utmost to arrive at happy endings. We may not be Hemmingway, but you and I, we are still raconteurs – world class, honest and with joys, heartbreaks and other stories to tell.

Much ado about SPAM

2009-03-01T17:57:00.005+08:00

Pork luncheon meat. Squashed meat in a can, a staple of every Chinese home.

Sliced into strips, dipped in egg batter and pan fried to perfection. Delish in a tin. Best thing out of China since Confucianism and gun powder. My dad cubes it and cooks it with star anise and chilli power.

Salty, tangy and mysterious, its meat like you have never tasted before. Would you know what it is, if not for the word Pork emblazoned on the label?

However with the growing concern on almost anything shipped out of the Mainland these days, and the obvious drop in quality - it has lost its characteristic firmness and bite only to be replaced with suspicious mushiness, the once loved Ma Ling luncheon meat has lost many a local lover.

On the rebound, I have taken to the next and super expensive best thing – Spam. The non-halal section of the supermarkets here are stacked with Spam with cheese, less salt Spam and my favourite – Spam with Tabasco. But it’s like RM14 a can. Yup, in my mom’s words – it’s like eating gold.

But sometimes its easy to go crazy. Which was what exactly what happened when I was in Isetan on Saturday. Desperately needing some comfort food, I grabbed a can of spam and paid for it with some of my other purchases. I was a bit shocked at the bill. Apparently I was charged RM19.99 for a can!

Needless to say, the cheapskate in me went back to the pork counter and looked for the price on display. There was none. The Chinese lady manning the counter gave me the look.

You know that look that salespeople at posh stores give you when you walk in their temple of expensive merchandise in your flip flops and weekend clothes?

Yeah, she cast me THAT look. Complete with the single raised eyebrow.

She saw my can of Spam and hollered “Is 20 dollas wan tin.”
To which I retorted that it’s expensive! Has it gone up in price?
“Is from USA. You know, USA?” And she looked away to a non-existent customer to my right.

I was like, wtf? Was this sales staff is giving ME attitude? Over a can of Spam? Like she owns the England and Spain and all the butcheries in between. Do I look like I can't afford her Spam, yes, from the USA.

I was sorely tempted to return the can (through the air, over the counter and into her skull) just to spite her, but that would mean that I would have to look at her sour face some more.

So I took the high ground and left before I really launched the can at her. Muttered something about yeah, I HAVE bought it before.

Of course I made up the most brilliant come back lines on the journey home, before I fell asleep in the train.

MPH will love me this year

2009-02-26T22:11:00.003+08:00

Finally, finally FINALLY I bought the Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri.
Yeah, it has taken me close to 10 years!
Don't understand why it took me so freaking long!

Now if I can finally start on Anna Karenina. Heh. Even I laughed out loud at the thought

Stairway to nowhere

2009-02-23T20:46:00.001+08:00

Photo taken at Klebang, Malacca.

Poetry of the week.

2009-02-23T17:57:00.006+08:00

You love the roses - so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet: and it would be
Like sleeping and yet waking, all at once.

The words are George Elliots'. Roses are blogger's own.

Disgust

2009-02-20T23:35:00.002+08:00

I actually agree with Dr Mahathir's latest statement.

Malaysia is indeed seeing more gutter politics.

To say that I am upset with the turn of event in national politics is the understatement of the year. I was certainly close to tears when news of Eli's departure from office became known.

What shameful, disgracing and underhanded way to bring down a capable politican. As a Malaysian, Opposition supporter and a woman, I have nothing but admiration and the highest praise for Elizabeth Wong. Her blog and goodbye message HERE.

If this is the kind of politics that Najib is orchestrating, then he has just guaranteed the Opposition's victory at the next general election.

I had thought that with recent developments, I was ready to throw in the towel and not have anything to do with local politics and the pitiful state it has degenerated into. But then, that would mean that the fight and sacrifices of the brave men and women against the Establishment would have been in vain.

And that surely must never be.