Tis The Season For..

I was driving to work today, when I spotted two cars in front of me swerving wildly. A Myvi was trying to overtake a Viva from the left, trying to inch slowly past the guy. Now, usually, that's a really 'biasa' sight. And other drivers usually mutter "Dat fucker.." under their breath when the hustler passes by.

But the Viva (or, the driver of the Viva) apparently had a really bad temper too, and started blocking the Myvi's path in erratic little swerves and jerks, refusing to let the Myvi pass. It was so obvious the Viva was doing it on purpose.

As they went down the road, with me maintaining a cautious viewing distance, the Myvi finally managed to pull up side by side with the Viva and the driver wound down his window and started shouting and waving wildly at the driver of the Viva.

The Viva sped off, and the Myvi kept chasing at his heels. I really wonder if the driver of the Myvi really was supposed to go on that road or if he just wanted to hunt the Viva down.

Temper temper. It ain't the season for giving.

But I'm guilty of raging rants too.

Case in point - yesterday. I rushed home madly from work to expect a delivery of the godawfully expensive mattress I bought from Macy's. At 6pm the delivery guy calls me and says he is stuck outside as the guards informed him that no deliveries are allowed after 530pm.

The requisite female pleading ("just please let him in, how am i supposed to carry such a heavy mattress alone?") failed, apparently those fucking Myanmarese guards don't have eyes nor dicks. So I stormed down in a blistering rage to the guardhouse to give them a piece of my mind, which included me saying -

"So you're saying if I load the mattress in my own car, I can bring it in?"

"Yes."

"Ok, so I own this fucking lorry, I am going to drive it in now."

"No no you can't." (which apparently is the limit of their vocabulary)

"But WHY? This lorry is mine, this mattress is mine, I have the pass card! The rules here state that no external deliveries only!"

"No no, ini bukan saya punya masalah, ini you punya masalah."

To which I got even more infuriated and proceeded to lose my temper even more drastically.

I am not racist. But I discriminate against stupid people. Sorry la, if the majority of stupid people work as security guards.

The only way I could discernibly console myself was that at least I make 5 times more than them and there is a reason why I can afford to live alone in the 4-bedroom apartment while they work in security for the place I'm living in.

My children will be wearing Guess Kids while they have to scrimp to buy just one new outfit for their ten kids for Chinese New Year or whatever celebrations Myanmarese guards celebrate. They also get to throw their ego around in such a small pathetic universe called "Security Guard in Condo", but be my guest, because I'll be doing something far better.

And no, I didn't want to save that breath to cool my porridge.

But that's the end of the rant, I can go celebrate Christmas without thoughts of hatred and voodoo dolls now.

Amen.
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"Dear, I officially tell you now, I changed my mind about staying in condos. I want to stay in a landed property next time. Preferably a bungalow. No neighbours."

He chortles because we've been locking horns over this whole condo versus landed property issue for ages. He's been a bungalow/terrace house boy, while I've lived in condos for most of my life.

Well, at least something good came out of this. We resolved one more longstanding issue that was blocking me from entertaining ideas of living together eventually.

*grin*

Jangan 'Kao Peh' Here

This morning I came to work after a very busy but surprisingly rejuvenating weekend catching up with friends and making arrangements for my emcee and 'chi mui' stint this weekend.

Logging into the company homepage, I glance through the Announcements page. Bla bla.. internal job vacancy.. blu blu... which department had what annual dinner theme. Honestly, it is time to go when you get annoyed by an Announcement titled 'CRM's Night of Crazzi Colors 2009'.

I mean, you people need to learn how to spell, so we can move forward with taking this company to another level.

So I quit the job.
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Sitting in the room on a Sunday, wracking our brains writing lyrics for the song we're going to perform, Nerd Boy and I are amazed at what we both are willing to do for friends.

Like I was telling my grandmother two hours before that while snacking at her kitchen table, "I won't emcee or perform for anyone other than for a reallly good friendship! Which means more than 10 years or very very close ones I've made recently!"

Eh, singing a song in Hokkien is painful okay. For a person who makes it a point never to utter the words 'lim peh' and 'kao peh kao bu'.
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Capon tried to stiff Superhero today.

Superhero taruh balik kao kao.

Sidekick duduk dan tonton aje, asyik fikir alangkah baiknya kalao ada popcorn.

Eat That Rap

I am irrevocably, incalculably fucked.

As of now, it is still unclear why I agreed to emcee my high school friend's wedding. Apparently in the haze of jubilations, I also suggested that we perform a rap song (with rewritten lyrics) in front of 500 guests.

So.

A week away from the wedding, I'm sitting here youtube-ing all the rap songs I can think of. Which as far as my songlist and knowledge of songs are concerned, there are only two rap songs in this universe.

"Gangsta's Paradise" and "Lose Yourself".

I tried singing Lose Yourself to Babi Guling but he said I sounded like I was having a stroke and gasping for air. A message came through the internal messaging system from somebody sitting in the rooms to "pleaseeee... stopppp...."

Did I mention already how screwed I am?

Maybe I should sing Zee Avi's 'Kantoi'.

Some Were Meant To Watch The World From Windows

Some were meant to color history, engrave their names in time.

Others were meant to watch the world from windows, with a passion as great as those fighting their wars in the world, but for the heavy weight that holds them captive. Leaning on the ledge, promises of glory and honour entice the wary observer, the ultimate reward for the brave.

Between jump and don't jump, doing it and not doing it, therein lies all the difference in the world. There may be harm in action, but worse outcomes stem from errors of omission and inaction. The omission may be simple, easily overlooked, underestimated, even. But for want of a nail, the battle was lost.

~Written by me, April 2008~

I have been here almost three years. I've stumbled badly, scraped the proverbial knee, but with the help of a close-knit clique here, I learned to laugh when things were going wrong. The people here became my anchor; for better or worse, I grew attached to them.

Because of my mother's experiences, I learnt never to stray too far from the sidewalk in case I got hurt.

But because I met these people, I learnt that it's okay to hurt. I watched their world from my window, hoping to learn from them. And I did, many a lesson they taught me. Over time, they taught me to be brave.

Over time, I learnt that watching the world from windows meant I might learn from example, yet be deprived of the experience.

In the time I was still trying to find my footing on the window ledge, Superhero guided me gently, letting me run on my own, yet always being near so he could prop me up when I stumbled. Mata Hari taught me not to take things so seriously, and Babi Guling toughened my sensitive hide with the most god-awfully demoralizing jokes.

The time seems to have come to leave the comfort and shelter of the window ledge. It helps that there is someone down below, someone I've recently met, beckoning to me. I don't know that person well, but I'm energized by his belief in me, that I am ready and this is something I can do.

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I've gone through enough in these 25 years to know that because I'm a person, not a machine, I need time to heal. So I got up, said my goodbyes with a smile, and left. Pointless to stick around when you're feeling awkward. Unlike most girls, I don't need a guy to buffer me or back me up in situations like this. You're your own person, so fight your own fight.

But it still wasn't something I could stomach comfortably yet, so I left. It IS that simple. Being on this earth for so long, it's something I know will pass in time.

So I walked away thinking that everything happens for a reason, and someday, I'll be glad I learnt this now.

Veni

It's hard, leaving things to chance. When you know you only have one life and one shot to make it work. Because as Marc and Angel put it, when our hands and minds and hearts work together, magic happens. And as long as you believe in that, you continue wanting to put yourself out there to push the boundaries.

The fear that you might feel, but in that fear, is exhilaration. The feeling like you're truly living.

Knowing that there will be long nights, and hard work, and an even steeper learning curve, and more difficult clients, and that some nights you will feel like quitting. Yet despite knowing all that, you still step out and head there anyway, with nothing but blind trust that you will make it in the end.

Thinking to yourself wryly, "Everything will be all right in the end. So if it's not all right, it's not the end."

Wish me luck, I feel like Caesar going on his Veni phase, minus the knife in the back.
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This aspect of my personality tends to manifest in other areas of my life as well, for example, the arena of Christmas present-giving between couples. I really don't want someone else to waste money on something I don't use. Past experiences have usually been fine, but with a new guy and all, especially one with a dubious sense of taste, I'm not taking any chances.

Me: So what am I getting for Christmas?

Him: Of course I'm not going to tell you.

Me: Hmm, is it a bag? *chews on grapes while lying on back staring at the ceiling*

Him: Can you please not guess?

Me: But guessing is fun!

Him: Leave me alone!

Me: No, I won't! If i leave you to your own devices, you will end up with something purple and furry and think it's the new black. By the way, I don't want a watch.

Him: *growls*

Me: *turns to look at him and pops the last grape in my mouth* You mean I'm getting a watch?

Him: Can you stop!??!?! *exasperated*

the kuih revolution

Some of my deals involves our team working with certain government departments. My team member asked me out of the blue about something he heard about them people.

Him: I heard that their meetings are full of kuih-muih (Malay for 'cakes / pastries')
Me: Yeah. Everytime there's a meeting, the secretary will call everyone involved to get the headcount, for her to order kuih.

Like wtf, go run the country or something. Or help your bosses run the country.

It's like a sick Marie Antoinette joke - Let them eat cake.
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Once I finally joined the Blackberry revolution, there was no turning back.

Among others, part of my daily routine now includes reading my bank's daily research morning calls while driving on the way to work. Berry in my left hand, with the right hand on the wheel, both eyes glued to the screen and letting my peripheral vision pick up any closely looming vehicles.

One piece of interesting news this morning is that Goldman Sachs is the latest in the string of banks to get a license in Malaysia.

I Bchatted Superhero in jest -

"If you join them, take me with you. Tell you first."

Lol. But honestly, something big's been brewing lately, unfortunately my tongue needs to stay silent for the moment.

I am so looking forward to closing this, and then skipping town for awhile to go on a solo trip somewhere. Thinking of Angkor Wat again.
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Some hilarious answers to real life test questions, culled from a pool of students who scored F's in their exams. You got to give it to them, at least they're funny.

Feliz Navidad

After a good night's sleep, you feel like you can do anything. For a person who has bad nights 5 days of the week, a damn good sleep is as elusive as that bloody Xmas present that I have trawled three friggin malls for.

Superhero and I played a little bit of hooky the other day to go look for Xmas presents. We hauled ass down to the carpark with our notebooks in tow.

Anybody who had met us would have been convinced that we were going to pitch a serious deal to a big client, the way our brows furrowed in faux concentration (or in Superhero's case, his classic blank 'I don't see you get out of my way' look) as we strode purposefully to Superhero's ride.

I must admit I came very close to chickening out, because the last time I ever played serious hooky was from school. And even then, I made sure I'd already finished all the day's homework and fulfilled my daily librarian duties before sneaking out of the school gates during the morning recess.

Once we reached Pavilion, we were getting out of the car when I thought of something and chirped -

"I think we should take our notebooks down..."

"No point bringing the notebooks right, if anyone sees us in friggin Tangs, we're busted already lah!!!"

Hmm. Point yang munasabah.

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Things are feeling very precipice-y at the moment. My paranoia, which knows no bounds, is working overtime lately with me trying to ensure nothing goes wrong. Not at this crucial juncture.

To the point where, we were driving along a road, and I noticed a cat starting to cross the road. A black cat. It was still on the opposite side of the road, but it was nearing our trajectory.

I yelled at the boyfriend who was behind the wheel, "Go!! Go!!! Go!!!! Faster!! Don't let the cat cross!!"

We whizzed past a frozen black cat who practically turned to stone when it saw the car that was hurtling towards it. In the event pet lovers start plotting for my death and downfall, the car did not hit the cat. At all. Probably just missed it by a whisker or two.

*grin*

Feliz Navidad, pussy.