Mandarin Orange

Today, i bought a mandarin orange at the uni's only fruit stall on behalf of Mr. JL - the only lad i knew who resembled a lot like one because us girls who played basketball in college used to cheer on him playing on the boys' team in his bright orange Nike shox and his plus-sized orange-and-black AND1 basketball jersey.

Mr. JL, only nineteen years of age, died of heart attack in Melbourne two days ago. Apparently they had been trying to reach him all day, but to no avail. So they went over to his place, only to find that they were too late.

The mandarin orange did not taste as sweet as i had expected it to be. But it is OK. At least one of the two mandarin oranges in my mind was.

God bless Mr. JL and may his soul rest in peace.

Wired Up

Y A W N ~

It's mid-semester break now & i'm friggin broke. Initial plan was to head to Gold Coast. But like most plans, it backfired. I keep questioning myself, where did it all go?

Groceries. Clubs. Raves. Chemicals. Mc D's.

OK eww. Channel Seven's showing a documentary about cattle farms as we speak. And God knows what was going on in the camera man's head because the second i turned my head to the TV, a pair of cow's eyes were staring back at me. The next thing you know the four-legged cheese donator licked the camera. I could've sworn it felt like she was licking my face.

*Gag!*

Anyway, looking forward to this little timebomb:

Hard Wire @ Arena, October 9th

"Spread through out 3 rooms of the Arena with 30k Turbo sound, huge laser and lighting rig and over 15 DJs including Brisbane�s best and the finest of the NuSkool crew, all set to amp your dance circuits with the hardest house, pump�n NRG and the pulsating hardcore!" - www.system6.com.au

Check this one out too: Groove Armada @ Arena. Tickets are $76.25.

Twenty-freakin-five cents??? What's it gonna do? Wipe my ass with quilted toilet rolls?

Attn: Ms.LH wish you didn't have to go back so soon...

What's a name

What's A Name

Brisbane is pretty fond of having two 'o's in their suburb names.

Toowong, Toowomba, Toombul, Indooroopilly, Coolongata, Noosa.

Amazing.

I wonder how the senate or the mayor or whatever came up with the name. I know Chumbawamba came up with theirs by blind-folding one of the members and ordered him to strike any key on the keyboard as he/she like. The end result, is obviously Chumbawamba! Maybe the senates sneezed the names of the suburbs.

"aaahhhh...TOOWONG! chooooooo..." or
"aaahhhh... choooooooCOOLONGATA..."

Then there's the 'call-your-food-with-your-place' name.

Grandfather must be so proud with his hometown drink 'Air Bandung'. And Ms.KC too is no exception. I reckon 'Singapore Chicken Rice' is definitely within the top ten on all Asian food enthusiast's list, alongside with the Malaysian's 'Penang Curry Laksa'. And not forgeting 'Vietnamese rice noodles'.

Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, MMMMMM.

Yes those who skipped lunch are probably flooding their keyboards with enzymes by now.

So what's in a name? I like to think of names as slap on labels on our foreheads to differentiate us from one another. Think Coca Cola. If you're lucky, you might actually have some meaning to it. Think Britney.

If i had a son, i'd call him qwerty, so that i'll think of him everytime i use a keyboard. If i'm mad at him for shaving the cat, i can just hit the keys like crazy. Alternatively, if i'm proud of him when i found out it was the cranky neigbour's cat, i can just stroke the keys affectionately.

Man, am i smart or am i smart?

See the people

One of my attributes I take great pride in is my wild imagination gland.

I imagine being Bill Gates' sister-in-law.
I imagine being Doly, the cloned sheep.
I imagine being colour-blind.
I imagine being Garfield.
I imagine being addicted to heroin.

Yet, i can't seem to pull my imaginative juices together to form a vision in my mind. A vision of a person who possess only four senses out of the five/six.

To begin with, i can't imagine what it's like to be deaf - Going to discotechques and seeing people bopping their shoulders and shuffling their feet frantically, punching the air whilst shutting their eyes lightly.

Could they be mad with the noise that was embracing them?

Others seem to be carrying (some lifting) invisible weights. While some would disagree with their music because if they thought the music was superb they would've nodded instead, right?

Perhaps the trivia of all nightclubs is the clubber's position, especially at raves whereby it seems as if everyone was being told to face towards one particular direction. If that was the case, then how come I wasn't being informed? Then again, perhaps it's common sense; something which i obviously lack. It is as if they could see something that i could not.

But that's just one optional aspect of being deaf.

I have a friend who's deaf. His name is Mr.B. Despite being deaf, he's irritatingly cute and too nice to be true. He cycles with a huge mob of national cyclists; hence, he has the necessary safety-precautions experience we amateurs lack. So we rely on him for our dear life whenever we're out on the road ripping our saggy thigh muscles apart from hoping that our sluggish buttocks will one day be taut again.

One time, us tortoises were paddling a mile behind Mr.B, who cycled 25,000 km ahead without breaking a sweat while we pant like diabetic bitches. Pfft. Shows how fit we were. Anyway, our destination was the beach. There were two routes to choose from and initially we told Mr.B that we were to adopt route A. But then we realised that we were too ambitious and the sight of the Corollas and Kijangs and Hino lorries scared the shit out of us so we realised that we were better off with route B: the route Mr.B was going, "Eeeegghhh aahhggg mmgghaa hhnngghhh," about. That, translated in normal english would be, "Let's take route B."

Like i said earlier on, Mr.B was far ahead of us so when we decided to take the shortcut, route B. I being the intellect, decided to be just that - an intellect.

"Oi Mr.B! Change in plans liaw. Use route B ahh! I don't wanna get roadkilled worr."

Yes, there i was hollering at the top of my lungs. I could've sworn the whole district heard me calling out to him. Yet, he did not respond; nor did he glance back at me when as i screamed his name in bold.

"OI YOU DEAF KA?"

Then i looked back to tell his sister, Ms.M, who was now kneeling on the pavement, red-faced and all. I panicked.

An asthma attack!

If i were at the olympics then, i would've won gold for bike sprint. I kicked my lucky-draw-prize bike and reached for her. She was out of breath all right - from laughter. I can't help but... What the fcuk?!

"What did you say to Mr.B just now?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"Ya i heard la. But did he?"

"I don't think so. Shit man."

"I wonder why."

It took me a split second to realise that i had been screaming my head off to a deaf person.

Way to go me.

George Carlin

Apparently a message from George Carlin, whose wife recently died. Pretty neat for a mouthy comedian of the 70's and 80's. God bless.

---

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

More & Less

Not in much luck this week. I thought i was born with it. Haaah.

Shame on me.

Skimming through this week's 'more & less' list:
More
1. Business law
2. Accounting
3. Uncle Tobys
4. Bad dreams
5. Missing my ayah, mummy and abang.

Less
1. Outing
2. Clubbing
3. Sleeping
4. Gym
5. Rice & coffee

I guess it is true about that winning some and loosing some crap. It wasn't too long ago when awareness struck me in the head, screaming in my eardrums that it has been nine months and ten days since i last had a fag. Hell, aunty pregnant next door would have been a proud mother by now. Even better, i have also given up booze for good now. Initially i thought i was too ambitious; that i would put drunken nights aside to make way for Ramadhan. But then again i realised that i can not look at another Johnny Walker Black Label no more. The sight of it in a sparkling shot glass is enough to make my stomach churn. Let alone my fave Smirnoff Black Ice. Had one sip too many and it's definitely time for me to call it a day.

Like different flowers have different needs for water, i too have different needs and wants now. What i need is a life, and what i want is a life. And that's exactly what i'm gonna get - a god damn life.

Very Well

The highlight of today would be that when i stepped out of my bedroom of a bachelorette's flair and marched towards the laundry room for obvious reasons. I realised that my bladder was compressing furiously. Thus after much encoding and decoding by the brain cells and such, a message was transmitted to the grey matter in bold:

"GO SHEE SHEE NOW"

However, being the rebel without a cause that i am, i decided to continue my quest to load the clothes into the dryer and take a piss only after i have successfully completed my mission. Unfortunately, the contractions got the better of me and it took me three fat seconds to realise that it would seem forgivable to the flatmates should the petite laundry room be flooded with soap suds but not of the by-product of pungent-smelling green tea.

So i dropped the clean panties and other forms of lingerie on the dusty floor and made a dash to the loo. I am officially obsessed with one of the greatest feelings in life [for me anyway] - that overwhelming sense of euphoria once you have dispensed your urine into the toilet scooter. Aaaahhh...

Notice i used scooter instead of bowl. Why? Well, for starters, it looks like a bloody scooter to me with the wheels used for two good ol' kampung style swing. Y'know, the kind they used on gigantic oak trees with vines as the ropes and used tyres to support your buttocks while your legs dangle freely in the air above soil level.

Hmm.. Reminiscing the past. My childhood fun-filled moment comprises of it as one of my all-time favourite toy at nenek's house. Mother's folks led a hard life and never fail to shed a tear everytime i think about the stories us kids were being told before. Stories that motivate me to lead a meaningul life so i can repay my folks as well as theirs. My definition of repaying them would not necessarily be by means of the greens, but also my deeds which grandpa prioritizes in his grandchildren. He said that he would indeed be happy if the sum of money given to him by his kids, grandkids & so on would enable him to indulge in a year's supply of daily Davidoff cubans; but he told me he would be better off with us doing him proud by upgrading ourselves academically, socially and religiously. And most important of all, nurturing the family name with great care. Obviously if it weren't for them i would not be here, enjoying and enduring life's ups and downs respectively. Thinking about them helps a whole lot in keeping me focused. Otherwise i'd be lost in a deep sleep of ignorance. Touch wood.

So yeah, whenever someone asks about my well-being, i'd say "I'm very well thank you."

Hope you are too.

Best before

Like most Wednesdays, one can expect 'the expired look' on my face the minute i walk through my apartment's entrance door. Sweaty, exhausted and way past the expiry date largely due to the fact that i had to endure a long day at uni, commencing at 0800 hours with the start of a hearty breakfast meal, followed by the routine march to the bus stop and hence, the uni's library to equip my hollow head with the essential whatnots for the upcoming two-hour tutorial as well as another two one-hour-and-fifty-minutes lecture, which altogether sums up to a grand total of three hour and forty minutes of long blahs and yadas. Yeah, poor me. Pfft.

So anyway, this mid-week was unlike the ordinary mid-weeks i have had. It was special.

I was thinking about a certain friend of mine. He has not been acknowledging my existence for quite a while now. Come to think of it, for a very long while. In fact, a typical lady would have encountered her second menstural period by now. So back to my story...

OK hold the phone. I'm watching the athens 2004 power walk as we speak and damn that russian has got a cute butt. All that swaying and grooving... Perhaps i ought to take up the sport too. Mine's nowhere near perfection and is currently approaching the triple XL syndrome.

So now, back to my story [really], i was thinking about how much he knows me that well and how much i appreciate having him in my life. Well... at least he was once anyway. i don't even think he remembers my name. You know, all the good times we shared and how i wish i can go through those moments again coz it has been a while since i had a best friend after Ms.C. [not that he replaced her as a fren is irreplacable & unique in their own special way] And i kinda thought that he was the male version of her. But now, after all is said and done, i can't believe i have to go through the same phase again. It's like a routine sudah. So sh!t. But what the hell. If i don't mean that much/little to someone anymore, i believe there's nothing much i can do about it. I can't force him to like me anymore. I can't go to his face and say,

"OI CHIBAI. LIKE ME WAH. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU KAN? YOU BETTER LIKE ME AH OR ELSE I WON'T LIKE YOU ANYMORE."

Ya exactly. What the fcuk right?

Then amidst all those ponderings and further musings, i looked up from where i was walking and my eyes met with those of a stranger. No, she did not have the most beautiful eyes in the world. In fact, mine's better. Seriously. But there was something about them. They were warm and friendly and had those nice wrinkly smile lines near her eye sockets which deepened the minute she smiled at me.

I smiled back. And it was a wonderful feeling.

For a minute i thought i was having an orgasm and was afraid for the next minute that i might be gay.

Well sorry to dissapoint you on that suspense bit there but it then turns out that i was thinking about how can someone whom i have no connection at all be ever so kind to me? In contrast to that, how can someone whom i thought would know me inside out and vice versa, not care to utter a simple two-lettered "hi" to me?

Strange that.

So i guess the moral of the story is to realise that life has its ups and downs [duh] and every individual ought to enjoy the presence of their loved ones before their best-before date. Obviously i've gone off.

NS, I am

Back again.

This time going anonymous to avoid unforseeable consequences. Won't even bother elaborating on that one. Therefore should you know me personally & were notified about this site by me, personally, then i strongly suggest you to take four seconds to flatter yourself for this limited privillege.

To those who landed here by mistake, or via a link and whatnots, well... Hello there.

Apart from being a lil' discreet, readers can expect the same ol' rantings and musings similar to that of my former blog. Characters will be labelled as a variable to preserve confidentiality. Plus it is also an added bonus for me to drive my readers nuts by figuring out just who i am b!tching [or otherwise] about.

What can i say, i aim to (dis)please.