my moo theory

i just found out that some chick up in connecticut has the hots for my hubby. she saw his goofy face on my pal's friendster page and thought, "he's cute!!" and immediately asked for an 'intro-intro'...

my first reaction, "elehhhh, ni mesti budak gemok and comot mana ni" as is usually the case with him and his admirers. but then i opened up her friendster page and lo and behold, the lady is smokin' hot!! well, not as hot as moi of course, otherwise why would he choose me over some other sepet and boncit girls out there, right? so after 15 gallery views and much scrutinizing, i flipped. i mean, how dare this surgeon-to-be wants to gatai-gatai with MY man!!

then i landed on solid ground. she's not with him. i am. why the melodrama then?

statistics show that nearly 60 percent of marriages today end in bitter divorces and many of those instances were due to the 'intrusion' of a third party. left and right, a number of my closest girlfriends have suffered sleepless nights, endless tears and a lifetime of heartbreak because the men in their lives decided to do a little 'after school research' to determine the color of the grass on the other side.

the blame is not solely the husbands' i say because the female cows grazing on those so called 'greener' pastures are made up of a new kind of breed -- the "tak mau bra" breed (i.e. the "tak tau malu" cloned with the "berani mati" breed). no longer are they a bunch of lazy hot blooded mammals content on mixing around with their own herd, these new age female cows are focused and fully committed in jumping across the fence to fraternize with the other livestocks. and that's what am afraid of most...

don henley strongly believes that "sometimes love just ain't enough" to which i say, i hear ya. if it's merely love, then i would have been married a long, long time ago... back when i had more hair on my head and more spring in my step. but i chose to play the waiting game and after 6 months, 17 days and 24 minutes, am happy to report that i made the right decision (... so far). God sent me a man who shares my religious beliefs, funny, temperamental, smart, loving, competitively anal, mature (well, almost), kind, a great friend. it's better than hitting the jackpot, it's almost as if i've won a lifetime supply of food at the local all-you-can-eat-chicken-buffet -- it's that good of a feeling. i finally feel secure.

and that's the first big mistake am making. if i should learn anything from my 'wounded' friends, it's never to feel secure about your marital bond, no matter how strong you believe it is. look at datuk k's ex, christie brinkley, hillary clinton. none of these women saw it coming, then bam! bye-bye happy marriage, hello tramp...

i may have really lucked out with MY man but as long as those "tak mau bra" cow breed exists, i vow to never rest easy. and if any one of them dare to come near my side of the green, i'll make sure to pull a reaaally mad cow on the bitch!

where art thou dr. spock?

i don't know what to write about anymore. my days are mundane, my nights, toksah cerita la. i've memorized the damn tv guide dari depan sampai lah ke belakang. and after so many social faux pas (e.g. mengumpat person a to person b only to realize, waaay into the thrashing session, that the two are actually closely connected!!), i've kept to the mantra, "if you got nutin' smart to say, then shut it." my life stories and my thoughts, i felt, was not worth sharing.

then bindi re-surfaced into my life. and my brain went into an overdrive.

i've never been a big fan of steve irwin. i first saw him on tv years ago, animated fellow that croc hunter. i don't know much about his wildlife conservation work but through my equally animated friend z (he loves to imitate steve's on-camera 'crikey' antics), i understood that mr. irwin meant a lot of good things to a lot of living beings. his tragic passing on september 4th last year, brought a public outpouring of sorrow once reserved for the princess of wales. "even creatures, great or small, grieved because they've lost the best friend they ever had." i didn't watch much of his memorial service, but i managed to catch irwin's very own 'wildlife warrior' at her best. i fell in love, in awe, instantly.

now, four months later, bindi is back. i watched her on ellen, access hollywood and i even stayed up late just to see her shine on larry king live. with proud mom terri by her side, bindi is all gusto and adult composure, talking about her hero and passion for continuing his wildlife legacy. now this kid is eight and she just lost her beloved daddy but listening to her talk about making the world, especially the animal world, a much better place, you can't help but wonder about the kind of parenting she had and continues to have.

how do you raise a child to be so thoughtful, kind, strong and smart like bindi? i know a number of children who are wise beyond their years but most who are gifted this way, i have to say, are 'socially inept.' either they are shy or insolent or just completely too cutesy they become irritating after a while. it's almost as if smartness comes at a heavy price -- no parent, no matter how much time and good they put into a child, can ever have that 'balanced' package. at least not when they're eight.

i hope to have a kid in this lifetime but how do i do it right? of course no one's perfect but don't you want your child to have bindi-like qualities? to beam with pride and not cringe everytime your little 'angel' opens his/her mouth. to be able to let your tiny tot run loose into the world without having to apologize profusely to the entire hospital waiting room coz' your 'precious' is sprawled on the floor wailing and with his pants down. to know that she is not always about 'things' but sometimes about thoughtfulness. how, do tell me, do you raise a child that's on the mark?

i know they've cloned dolly the sheep but can they clone bindi the sweet?

*go to youtube.com and type 'bindi on ellen degeneres' for latest footage. problems uploading

biskut oh biskut

damn you martha stewart for making me look bad in the kitchen... the pistachio raisin biscotti you said was waaay easy to make burnt to hell!! and yes, i did, like a complete idiot, try to scrape off all the 'kesan hangus'... now am left with more crumbs than biscotti. and i hate you guida de laurentis, with all your perky exuberance and white pearly teeth, for looking completely 'untarnished' at the end of your 30-minute show. i still have all this gunk in my hair so no, i do not wanna try anymore of your everyday italian recipes!!

little miss sunshine indeed!

for those who haven't seen this lil' sundance genius... go, go, go check it out. kitaorang ketawa sampai guling-guling atas tanah... ok i exaggerate. sampai nak terkincit jugak lah. what a great way to start the new year!

on your mark... get set...

am clueless about 2007 but here are some of the more important things i've learnt in 2006:

-food tastes so much better in the company of close friends
-i make killer muffins!!
-bermuda is not part of the bahamas
-sharing a life (with the right person) is worth the wait
-celebrate today. tomorrow may come with much sorrow
-always, always put aside some money if you think you'll ever get married... esp. if you want to kahwin lari
-am anal retentive, semak sikit je and i boleh naik giler
-someone needs to give dubya a real tight head slap to wipe that smirk off his face
-you will definitely gain weight if all you do (all day) is watch soap operas and eat yummy brownies
-breaking up with someone you still love is hard. very hard
-am not very 'animated' without my friends
-milo tastes so much better in malaysia
-contrary to popular belief, am not ready to be a mommy yet
-my (pink) kitchen aid mixer can do magic!!
-am without a doubt, not a morning person
-moving away from one's comfort zone is an uphill battle
-i don't love britney no more ya'll. her p**** is yucky
-no job = no money = no independence = no peace of mind? (the jury is still out on this one...)
-gq is a kiddie mag. vanity fair rocks!
-writing is the surest bet to keep my sanity intact
-take a gazillion pictures of those you love (esp. when they're making stoopid faces). you'll never know when you need a good picker-upper
-not all men are scum but the few who are should meet john bobbit's fate
-love alone does not suffice. respect, trust and the ability to melawak help make a relationship work
-skinny jeans are created for those with 'landing strip' asses. yeeehaaaaw!
-pak lah without endon is pak lah without a backbone
-life is short. be kind, smile more and stop saving your fancy sheets for those so-called 'special' occasions
-malaysia has my heart

happy 2007. may it be significant and "spark"ling in more ways than one. keep safe :)

membesar sebagai johan

"Ambition is the last refuge of the failure"

Oscar Wilde

2006 is almost over. pejam celik, pejam celik, time certainly did go by so fast. and for the first time in many many years, am without job, ambition nor resolution. giler ke hape?

when i was busy slaving myself away infront of those damned editing machines once upon a time, one thought kept playing in my head, "bila la bila aku nak berenti kerja ni?" i kept bitching about my ungodly working hours, time spent away from my family, friends... good food. my right brain was, on several occasions, screaming murder. THAT was not the life i should be living. or so i thought.

now that am jobless and with absolutely nothing but time on my hands, i begin to wonder if i should have wished for something other than the gift of listlessness. hmmm...

*and if mr. wilde was right, then i must be the biggest success story of the new year. nice.

santa mu santa ku jua...

it was supposed to happen at 6:30pm. sharp. i started shitting in my pj's 5 hours before that.

a week ago my friendly neighbors gave out colorful flyers informing us that today will be the day that a throng of kids will go door-to-door singing christmas carols. i read that and my first reaction was, "yaaay fun!" then it hit me. what do i, a person who doesn't even know the difference between protestants, catholics and evangelicals, know about christmas carol rituals? i began to menggelabah...

what do i do when they come knocking? open the door, hold a candle, pretend to hum "la, la, la, la" and sway my body in full carol rhythm? or do i smile, hand out treats then wave them away? or better still, do i admit that am an ignorant bitch who thought "i saw mommy kissing santa claus" was a song about a two-timing whore? i was in trouble.

so i did the obvious. i started shutting the blinds at 6, turned off all the lights at 6:15 and muted the tv at 6:25. by 6:30pm, our house was 'empty.'

everything went according to plan but like all drama swasta takde bajet, something had to go wrong. at exactly 6:37 i felt the urge to 'go.' no, no, not #1... #2!! i didn't know what to do -- the bathroom is outside, at the end of the hallway and am trapped inside, in the master bedroom. and in the dark!

so what's a girl of my caliber do? i paced around in circles and when that didn't work, i jumped up and down, moaning cibai, cibai, cibai under my breath like a thief who just stubbed his toe against the leg of an unseen table. what if i dash out and the kids are already at the door? aiyo, die la like this...

then i heard the engine. YES!! my knight in his not so shiny kapcai is back!! i carefully peeked through the blinds and when i saw that it was really him, i unlocked myself, waved hello and ran like a speeding bullet to the bathroom. aaaaaaaaaaaahhh.... as i sat down smiling, i thought to myself, "padan muka dia, now it's his problem."

but because we're birds of the same feather, he decided that he too was chicken shit. so we crept out the door (sans porch lights) and headed straight for the bike. and as he was struggling with the passenger footrests, i heard a familiar sound. i looked to my right and they there were, the christmas carolers, all laughter and smiles, singing their little hearts out.

a part of me felt a huge sense of relief for not having to pretend to be all cool and slick about christmas caroling but the other part of me felt regret. am one who's always up for a jolly good time and the look on the children's faces clearly screams jolly with a capital J but because i let fear get the better of me today, i missed out on a beautiful thing.

moral of the story: i need to learn some christmas carols and the do's and don'ts for next year's bash. that and am also printing out lyrics to "lagu tiga kupang" for the kids to memorize. that way when i come knocking on their doors asking them to join me in my celebrations, they won't run away scared and shitting in their pants :)

have a merry christmas yo!!

in memoriam

not much happened last week. live. breathe. same ol same ol. i was bored to DEATH. then an offline message. "sm passed away this morning..."

that jolted me. hard. i stared into space, not knowing what to think. 31. she was just 31.

then it all came rushing back. she was the very first person, with her smiling eyes and rambut tocang, who was brave enough to befriend me when i landed in convent kota in standard two. she had the skinniest legs ever. she (ok, her mom) threw some of the fun-nest birthday parties a kid could wish for. she was one of my best 'bicycle buddies'... always willing to take the trip up and down the hill to get to my place. she had a visible whitish stain on one of her front teeth. she held my hand, booed the rest but cheered me on at a pertandingan bercerita at anderson, ipoh. she had the biggest heart.

life happened and like most childhood friendships, she and i fizzled. but in that little time we spent together, she was to me, a wonderful friend, a warm fuzzy ball of delight to have around.

another very close friend of mine 'left' me a few years back. the ‘big c’ took her two days before my 26th birthday and her death set my world into a tailspin. always a survivor, we never talked about death, we only spoke about the joys of living. when her colleague called to say that she was in icu, i took my own sweet time -- powdered on some make-up, perfected my mascara -- only to arrive five minutes too late. i never did get to say bye-bye.

last year i went to a funeral filled with a sea of young faces. to be honest, i still don’t know why i braved the rain to pay my last respects -- i hardly knew the deceased. the only thing we had in common was our love for the spoken words but on the very few occasions that we did meet, i remember thinking, “this chick will go places…” indeed she did but it was a trip cut too short, too soon. she was barely 30.

i don’t know what to make of this. of DEATH. no matter how many ‘early’ goodbyes i’ve had the misfortune of soldiering through, it never does get any easier. the shock, denial, sadness, anger, acceptance… practice certainly doesn’t make it perfect.

my aunt passed away recently and a few days before she drew her final breath, she looked me in the eye and said, “nanti kita jumpa lagi yer…” scared and unprepared as i may be, i hope to God i will meet her again one day. her and the very important few i never got a chance to say goodbye to…


*syerina is on the right. pejoh was one of her good friends. still is.

you don't say...

"u.s. the most unfriendly country to visitors"

Rude immigration officials and visa delays keep millions of foreign visitors away from the United States, hurt the country's already battered image, and cost the U.S. billions of dollars in lost revenue.

The Discover America Partnership released the result of a global survey on November 20 which showed that international travelers see the United States as the world's worst country in terms of getting a visa and, once you have it, making your way past rude immigration officials.

The survey, of 2,011 international travelers in 16 countries, was conducted by RT Strategies, a Virginia-based polling firm, for the Discover America Partnership, a group launched in September with multimillion-dollar backing from a range of companies that include the InterContinental Hotels Group, Anheuser Busch and Walt Disney Parks and Resorts.

More than half of the travelers surveyed said U.S. immigration officials were rude and two-thirds said they feared they would be detained on arriving in the United States for a simple mistake in their paperwork or for saying the wrong thing to an immigration official.

The survey was taken between October 25 and November 9 against the backdrop of growing concern in parts of the U.S. business community over a steady decline in the number of foreigners visiting the United States.

-- Associated Press, November 06 --

i don't need a published survey to convince me that the us of a is THE unfriendliest place to visit. i experienced their brand of 'hospitality' first hand.

we were living in halifax for most of ramadhan and thought, "hey, since the weather's getting real crappy up north and since we have friends over in nyc, why not go visit them for hari raya?" anticipating rendangs and ketupats, we packed our bags, emptied our bowels and merrily skipped out the door. that happiness was... shortlived.

the first mistake we made was going through the u.s. immigration as husband and wife. he has p.r. status and i, well, i have yet to petition for mine so the fact that i wanted to get into their self-proclaimed 'great' land for a mere visit, was to them, highly suspicious. "you have a husband who is a permanent resident and you're NOT thinking of settling down and working in the states? something doesn't sound right here. we need to get to the bottom of this." yes, mr. bush and his loyal gate-keepers (a.k.a the immigration and naturalization service), with all of their pompous arrogance and illusions of grandeur, seem to believe that every single person who comes a-knocking, wants to call the u.s. 'home' and those who claim otherwise are simply, in their words, "hiding something."

we we held up for more than 6 hours at the halifax airport (u.s. immigration clearance was done there) without food nor water. no one asked whether we wanted to use the bathroom. a certain minah hitam who was given more power than she could muster, sat me down on the 'hot' chair and goaded me with her puffed up friendliness, hoping i could give the kind of statements she wanted to hear.

"why do you only have a few items of clothings?"
"i have more. you're not looking at the right places. let me show them to you."
"no, no, i know what i saw. i'm very perceptive."
"why don't you want me to show them to you?"
"i know what i saw."

i read 'my' written statement and was completely blown away. facts were wrong -- my birth date, my wedding date, my previous date of entry to the u.s. icing on the cake, she distorted and fabricated most of the information i provided in order to back her suspicion that i wanted to enter the states with the intention of illegally overstaying my visit. i had only one thought running in my head at that particular instance -- "thank God i know english." these people are damien evil, pure devil incarnates, they only see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe.

they decided to revoke my visa so yes, that's when all hell broke loose. i may look like a dim light bulb but trust me, they messed with the wrong 'alien.' am an honorable couch potato so i knew my rights. infront of her supervisor, i challenged the written statement and asked that she change her version or i wouldn't sign the damn papers. she balked, made faces but i stood my ground. trust me, i was scared to death, scared that they'll call my bluff and haul my ass straight to jail. but i looked her straight in the eyes and silently told myself, "you can do this, you can do this. you can't let them win."

neither of us won that day. my visa was left intact but i was still denied entry. my dignity was to say the least, left in smithereens, my energy drained. worst of all, i came away from that experience with a deep sense of hatred for the country i once respected. what is it about post 9/11 america -- who exactly gave them the right to assume that they are far superior than the rest of us mankind? what happy pill are they on to make them believe that even after the mess they've created in iraq, the world is still marching to the beat of THEIR drum? what makes them think that you and i are still willing participants in their war against terror? who exactly are they kidding?

"we are merely looking out for ourselves..." yes, i know you are. every tom, dick and sally seem to be looking out for their own 'behinds' these days. but here's a thought -- if you keep yourself so focused on what's behind, you may lose sight of what's ahead. and sometimes, we gotta move forward to be able to live the life we really want to live. without fear nor prejudice, free of arrogance and tyrants.

america needs to come down from their 'holier than thou' resting place. soon. maybe not today, or tomorrow, but at least soon enough before someone decides to once again, pull the cozy rug from under them. and if that happens, the u.s. will no longer be the most unfriendly country to visitors, it will be a country no one will ever want to go visit...

*for the record, we celebrated hari raya at an indian buffet in bermuda

'tis shall pass...

Oh, lift up thankful eyes, dear friend!

Count equal, loss and gain;

Because, as long as the world lasts,

Green leaves will come again.

— Dinah Muloch Craik

to my dearest friend, B, who's about to go through a messy divorce, chin up and be strong okay? am sorry i can't be there to hold your hand or to shout profanities outside of the mahkamah syariah but i know a few brickfields thugs who would love the opportunity to do some major damage to 'thy neighbor'...

sonya is one lucky lil' lady to have you as her mommy. and the next person who holds your heart... will be a better man. insyaallah.

hammer time!

i love abc's dancing with the stars!! and i love that underdogs emmitt and cheryl won... makes me believe that champions are not always born, they are mostly bred.

malaysia should put this show on air. am pretty damn sure nik aziz wouldn't approve but hey, at least we'll be happily dancing all the way to hell :)

little house on the island

every 'stand alone' home on this tiny island has a unique name -- saratoga, morning light, why not, mizzentop, sundeck, chameleon -- the list is as eclectic as it can get. i have no idea why that is but i suspect it has something to do with the fact that bermudians have so much free time on their hands. tell a cab driver the name of the house you're heading to, the road it's on, which parish it's located at (warwick, flatts, devonshire, etc.) and you're all set.

our lil newfound cottage is called SHARMIC. i don't particularly like the given name but hey, since we're mere tenants, we gots to live with it lah. if it's up to us (okay, me) she'll be called something lame and ridiculous like sendiri bayar sendiri duduk or bunga-bunga cinta bertaburan...

we were looking for something unfurnished, with two bedrooms or more, wood flooring, a lawn... view of the sea, in a certain price range. first there was the house right next to the main street and discount supermarket (bising giler!), then it was the one with too many stairs to climb (my mom and her lututs would curse me for sure), then we looked at... hell, there were too many properties to remember. we even saw one with pink wall-to-wall carpeting. PINK! by the 11th house, we were losing hope. then nakia, our friendly neighborhood real estate agent called us, "hey you're gonna love this house. it just got back on the market. your luck!"

our luck indeed. we fell in love with sharmic without even stepping inside. newly renovated, 3-bedrooms, spacious living room, fab kitchen, huge lawn, great neighborhood -- score!! we were ecstatic... until we encountered the 'bathroom situation.'

sharmic has only ONE potty pot and for those who know us as a couple, you'll know we're gonna have massive marital woes because of this. let's just put it this way -- he 'reads' a lot in there and me, well, i just don't like to be interrupted during my 'sessions.' imagine the endless knocks, the shouts, the wailing outside the door... am getting an anxiety attack just thinking about it. and that's just when it's the two of us... i can't even fathom the thought of having people in the house, when my rombongan cik kiah from malaysia comes to visit. definitely not a pretty sight.

sharmic means long-lived and infinite in sanskrit. a good name, a good start. so after some thought, here's what i propose: let's live and let live. one bathroom, no problem... we'll just roll with the punches (literally). after all, life is all about riding the wave and learning to adapt. not everything will go as we conjured it in our heads, no matter how meticulous the planning was. in this instance, we just have to bersyukur with what we have and berdoa that our lil sharmic will live up to its given name. and if all else fails, there's always that massive lawn i kept telling you about... :)

go get em' girls!!

i can't believe am saying this but i WANT and NEED my malaysian tv!! my two best bitches zab and joejer are taking part in amazing race asia and although am their official pom-pom girl... am not able to watch any part of their exciting adventure!! wtf man!!! aku nak astro!!! hwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

things that make me go "wtf??!!!..."

1. internet access that's down for more than a lousy week
2. a 10-year old boy whispering "hey gorgeous" when i passed him on the street
3. being able to send shitloads of sms-es back home and getting practically zero in return
4. not being able to eat cabai burung for almost a month now
5. watching that hottie karina smirnoff pull a 'cirque du soleil' on the dancefloor without breaking her spine
6. my 'inventive' cooking

girls just wanna have fun

"when i was just a child in school,

i asked my teacher what should i try?

should i paint pictures? should i sing songs? this was her wise reply:

que sera sera -- whatever will be will be.

the future's not ours to see, que sera sera -- what will, will be."

what did i wanna become? i remember filling out borang kerjaya in standard three -- 1.policewoman 2.bus mini conductor 3.penyanyi. am pretty damn sure the teacher thought i was a moron coz everyone else wanted to be either a doctor or a lawyer... but hey, i stuck to my guns. those ambitions to me, were pure, and if nothing else, original.

and what did i end up becoming 22 years later? none of the above of course (seriously, can you imagine me as perempuan kaberet? don't aswer that). instead, i chose a different route. these days, am an official minah rempit...

here in bermuda, where the roads are winding and narrow, everyone rides the scooter. rich, poor, black, white, islander, visitor... they all bike. forget trying to channel the expertise of valentino rossi or carlos checa at every corner and turn, the popular mode of transportation here is mostly the 50cc scooter. cuba la melenjan selagi tak mahu, it can only go so fast.

lemme tell you, i was downright apprehensive about jumping into the back seat at first -- hell, who'd want to be in a position where you have no control over where you're going or when you're scrapping the tar roads?! but as soon as the engine's gunned and the perfect island breeze touched my face, i was sold. rambut penyet and bontot memang la sakit, terhenjut-henjut ke sana ke mari but man, was i having the time of my life. you know that feeling when you're riding your bicycle down the hill with no hands on the handlebars? going on a scooter is a hundred times better...

now i completely understand why those minah rempits around jalan tuanku abdul rahman always have that silly smile plastered on their faces everytime the mats take them for a spin. forget ambition -- a sense of adventure alone will get you places :)

*now... can we afford that vespa lx?

cuti-cuti bermuda

the jury has spoken -- we are moving to sunny bermuda next week!! put away that smelly stained jacket and let's whip out a flirty bikini babeeeeey!!!!
who's with me? who's with me??!!

"I see no truth whatsoever in stories of extraterrestrial visitors, crop circles, the bermuda triangle, or many of the other 'mysteries' that permeate pop culture."
-dan brown

regretrospective

okay am a klepto. no, no, not krypto(nite) like superman. klepto, like a thief. what the fuck you say? yessss... i steal things. stole things. past tense. i've exorcised myself from that nasty habit a while back and am happy to report that... i'm fully cured. okay, okay, semi-cured. geez... can i lie already? it's MY blog...

it started when i was in secondary school. i blame it on my friend, let's just call her A. it was a rainy day, all of us girls stuck in our dorm with nowhere to go. before anyone had the chance to turn on the radio to listen to fiona by 4u2c, A then bukak cerita about another fateful rainy day when she had to steal a payung from yaohan the mall, 'the' hippest hang-out in kl at the time. we all gasped and she quickly came to her own defense claiming, "bukan aku nak beb, tapi terpaksa... hujan lebat masa tu, aku takde payung... camna nak balik sekolah." she walked in, picked a color, then walked out. no alarmed sounded, nothing happened. the pak guard even helped her open the umbrella at the front entrance. most of us looked at her in horror. i looked at her with wonder.

i wouldn't call myself a criminal -- i don't go for the big stuff and i lay off money and food. hey, i may be a crook but i've got principles okay? i take things that i believe (in my own distorted mind) are tagged way more expensive than what it should be. say a pencil is worth 50cents but because it's sold in a fancy shop, the price skyrockets to $3. this to me is a complete injustice. what is the solution to this problem? steal it. not that i couldn't afford the damned pencil but once again, it's about basic principles. "penjual tidak sepatutnya menipu pembeli." i learned that in perdagangan in form 2. who ever said m'sia has a bad education system?

a friend once dared me to steal from fao schwartz, that giant toystore in nyc. i was like, "are you nuts? am gonna get caught la wei!!" he just looked at me and i looked back at him. then i snuck something in my jacket pocket and walked out. smiling, with no alarm blarring. i never felt more alive.

those days are long gone believe you me. am too old for that cat and mouse game. my boobs are sagging, i got nothing to distract the authorities. but yesterday, as i was walking around this lil canadian town, the klepto-ness in me, started to resurface.

it's not like i wanted to really steal anything. i mean, hello??? it's halifax for god's sake, what is there worth stealing??!! yeah yeah, it's pretty and all but you can't steal beauty. believe it or not, the ol' thief in me just wanted some attention, to get some decent conversation out of the other person. okay "you have the right to remain silent..." is not really a good ice breaker but gimme something already! anything!

i've always led a full life -- friends, family, pyschos... am never alone. whenever i needed to talk, to hear a story, laugh, cry, vent, i've always had someone for every occassion. my world was never silent. some people have quiet dreams, i can't find the mute button to mine. but for more than a month now, am living my worst nightmare -- decent conversation out, small talk in. i don't expect the checkout girl at the atlantic supermarket to understand my need for cabai burung, but come on, at least look me in the eyes when you're dissing me. no one seems to care about what i have to say anymore. and dammit, that makes me wanna steal something.

at least when i get caught, the shopkeeper would ask me questions like "why did you do it, how many bic pens did you take, what kind of an idiot are you" and by the time the police officer gets in, i'll already be on a roll. think about it, there i am in the backseat of a squadcar, looking all doe-eyed and innocent... man, the possibilities are endless. we could talk about that two-way radio mounted on the dashboard, the high-tech global positioning system, he could even let me play with the sirens (okay, i watch too much csi i know). and when we get to the station, we could, over coffee and doughnut, discuss condi rice and her supposed romantic relationship with the canadian foreign affairs minister, mr. peter mackay. "that gatal bitch, has she no shame?" we could laugh, talk some more and then he could throw me into the lock-up. yay... more friends!!

the point am trying to drive home is this -- i miss my buddies back home. yes, YOU.

being here for more than a month already, without any real friends to call my own, am reduced to having impersonal conversations with those i meet daily, complete strangers mostly. here's the thing, people who know me know that i don't do impersonal -- 10 minutes with me and all your cerita maknenek will come out. yes, am that good of a kepochi. but because i know i won't be here that much longer, i refuse to make the extra effort to be all chummy with all the mat and minah sallehs, to ask anything beyond the weather. fine and dandy right, no strings attached? wrong. my life now becomes superficial -- no more meaningful conversations, no real depth to any human interaction. this kinda lifestyle is so excruciatingly painful to me, it's almost as if i am watching that malaysian all-girl group, elite, lip-sync on stage.

for the record, no i did not steal anything. but i have to tell you, am getting awfully desperate. with no friends, no heartfelt one-on-ones... a girl can definitely break under pressure. but if and when i do succumb to the devil, i'm gonna blame it all on YOU for abandoning me like this. and when that day comes, you damn well better be ready will bail money...

i ain't leavin no one behind y'all!

to all my friends who are in love or think they're in love... or infact, just too in love with themselves, take 5min 23sec to listen to tony bennett and george michael's rendition of "how do you keep the music playing?" tangkap cintan gua cakap lu...

and for all you old foggies who need a slapstick picker-upper (translation: your bladder needs a good release), go to http://youtube.com/ and type "evolution of dance." pasti terkincit!

enjoys :)

family matters

i've always loved Ramadhan. i'm the last person to call myself pious but come fasting month, i see that opinionated punk in the mirror changing into a better being. i become less bitchy, i forgive and forget at a much faster rate, i try to be more of a giver than a taker and i even make it a point to perfom REAL solat, not the patuk ayam kind my big sis does on a daily basis. Ramadhan brings out the best in silly, selfish ol' me.

i remember my endless complaints about the usually predictable heatwave and haze in m'sia, "woi panasnya, macam mana nak puasa ni..." but now that am so far away from home, in a place where the sun is everyone's best friend, i begin to really wonder why Ramadhans mean so much to me.

one word. family.

my best memory of my dad was at a pasar pagi in sentul many many years ago, way back when he was still working as a government officer in bukit kerajaan. we were trying to find our way back to the car when we saw a group of people circling a man auctioning off a huge array of cheap toys. i was to put it mildly, giler happy.

we didn't have lotsa money, there were six of us kids to feed (we all makan banyak) and a single breadwinner, so being the last in my family, i never expected much. but on that beautiful sunday, ayah turned to me and said, "nak tak?" it was just the two of us, daddy and his little girl, so i nodded my head gleefully. We went home with a made in china doll waaaay bigger than barbie, with eyes that shut everytime i lay her down. i don't remember how much he paid for it but i vividly remember looking up at him thinking, "what did i do right to have this cool guy as my dad?" so cool he's the reason why my sisters and i mencarut so much while driving -- dimana tumpahnya kuah kari kalau tidak ke nasi?

because of him, my mom, my wacky sisters, my two brothers i don't quite know anymore and that noisy bunch i fondly call my anak-anak sedara, i always make it a point to be a 'good girl' during the holiest month on the muslim calendar. that's the only way i believe i can get Allah Taala to hear and grant my prayers -- for the clan to experience the kind of love and happiness i felt that sunday morning in sentul.

this Ramadhan i am without them. they're thousands of miles away, eating good food (my sis had the nerve to brag about that ayam percik she bought in kampung baru... babi!) and looking forward to hari raya. me on the other hand, i'm forced to go through bulan puasa without the usual suspects. well, hmmmm, not technically...

there's this person that keeps hovering round my back everytime i'm in the kitchen now, glaring at me coz i tried to soak and thaw the frozen mackerel with hot water (who the hell cares if the fish is half cooked when you take it out?!)... and eyeing my food come break fast coz he's halfway done with his when am just starting to savor my nasi goreng lembik. this anal retentive person is still a stranger to me but somewhere between arguing about who's doing the laundry or laughing out loud at ladonna and shanehneh's antics on maury, i've come to realize that my family has expanded. i now have another reason to be 'Ramadhan's employee of the month' :)

"the only way to get to know a man is to live with him 24/7." i have to say, am still learning and discovering new things about this particular member of my family -- his orchestrated snoring, his wonderful cooking, his faith in my ability to help change the world. with him in my life, i have a feeling am gonna have so many more of those beautiful sentul mornings, Ramadhan or otherwise.

as for my 'real' family back home, i hope they choke on their chicken kuzi while watching sembilu 2 and/or tragedi oktober. and once they're done coughing, spitting water and saying "eh sape sebut? sape sebut?" i sincerely wish my face is the only one that comes to mind. the once-a-year 'good girl' who wishes them only the very best, dunia dan akhirat.

selamat hari raya aidilfitri, maaf zahir & batin :)

p/s chocfudge, thanks so much for the link http://www.quranexplorer.com ... real helpful for people yang dok merangkak baca Quran like me!

letter to graydon carter

i never thought writing can be this hard. i mean, come on, i've written tens of thousands of scripts for tv before (ok, that's a lie, the thousands part). but this... blogging, this is hard. people could actually read my thoughts. REAL people. and they are allowed to have opinions too!!

i didn't know that am gonna have to invest so much of thought into writing -- i wanted my blog to look and sound frivolous, as if i didnt put any effort into it. i wanted to sound blase... like those cool people i aspire to become (case in point a particular doctor mcSTEAMY on grey's, and don't confuse him with doctor mcDREAMY though both are mcLICIOUS) then i realized, hell, if i sounded frivolous, people might think i'm stoopid. which am soooo not. am not!!! ok, just shut it.

let's face it, am a simple girl. i like ice-cream, i thank God everyday for justin timberlake, i think post-it notes is the best humanly invention (next to heinz ketchup of course), i love trashy tabloids and i'd choose that snazzy bang&olufsen entertainment system anyday over diamonds and pearls. so riddle me this -- how does a simple girl who's trying to make it in the big, bold world of blogging, not sound frivolous?

i pondered long and hard (ok, lie again, maggie assam laksa doesn't take that long to cook) and the answer still eludes me. so until that day comes, am gonna stick to being me. to write what comes to mind, to wear my heart on my sleeve, to continue to fight for the rights of paparazzis everywhere, to continue to sound... absolutely frivolous.

peace out yo!

p/s i'd like to give a shout out to "mimi bengkang" for inspiring me to be all that i can be... hahaha!!!