Beauty & The Beast

Burned my hand quite badly today, grabbing a super hot pan handle and the best part was, I couldn't let go, coz it was sticking a little. o___O!


Oh well, everyone really rallied around me and were super concerned, which is super sweet, and I made it home, driving my manual white bug, safely, thank God.


Now... to make it through the night, and if its really bad tomorrow, I'll go see a doctor. Hoping that they'll bandage it super tight, so it gets numb, so I can continue and work. Sigh.... Looking at long white streaks on my palm right now... wonder what human meat tastes like.




And, yeah, heard that Bow Chica Wow Wow song just before coming back. Well, no chance anymore, he's a really changed person now. Doesn't care about anything or anyone, or their feelings, except whoever he's with now I guess. So rude and cold, and he's requested that I delete the pics on FB that have us together. AND he also deleted his account.


I can only hope and pray that someone will give him so much love, and change him back into that wonderful person I love and know. Beast after all, is still a prince under all that. He's a good man. He is. I believe in him, even if he doesn't believe in anything now.


Goodbye Ian Penguin...

Reminiscing about... Embarrassing Episodes

I am super restless tonight... too much on my mind. And so, I (luckily) took a trip down Memory lane to my old blog with the comment from CandylandCass about how much funnier it is compared to my current one. o.O And so, reading through the old stuff, I think it was way funnier because, of my Embarrassing Episodes and for the new year and new starts (and also just plain ol' boredom) I shall list out my (reported) episodes in this post.


Chronological order:


1. First time going to KL to stay on my own, I was friggin' nervous the night before orientation in The One Academy. I freaked out so much that I just texted every living soul I knew that would be awake AND sympathetic, and EileenSpazz was there to save me. She gave me the sweetest, bestest and weirdest advice ever:

Me: I'm SO SCARED. OMG, what if I don't make any friends? What if I go there, and my art is total crap, and these people will draw circles around my sobbing self???

Eileen: Don't worry Yil. You'll do fine. Remember... You're the WAVE.

(Insert Blank Expression Here)

Anyhow, after awhile, she had relatively calmed me down enough, so I could have a fitful sleep and wake up the next morning, feeling absolutely drained. But, I walked to college, repeating the mantra, "You the Wave. Be the Wave." And so, milling into the heavy glassed-door reception area, I nearly fainted again, seeing how many people were there. I found out that I was to line up, get my tags and go upstairs. I told myself, See? You haven't tripped, or done anything stupid, so it's all going to be fine.

And then I realised something. I thought it was. But I wasn't sure. Maybe I was paranoid. But then I checked. And found out that, the whole time I was walking to college, standing in line, looking around at me timidly......

MY ZIPPER WAS DOWN.  *BLUSH*

2.  And then, after getting that tag, I had to go to the narrow corridor which led to the stairs and *ZIP* and *Breathe* and go into the hall, where I was, again, met with further embarrassment.


3. Going back to Penang hasn't saved me from 'exciting' incidents either.


4. Even a post-funeral lunch has me getting into scrapes.


5. Sunday mass in church - OH YES.


6. My First and ONLY accident ever since I started driving.


7. Even Singapore and all its rules couldn't stop me.


8. Weird moments, tension & mix-ups. Sigh.


9. And of course, the latest classic case of Me Being Me.


There are tons more that I haven't even chronicled.... already, this list scares me.


Hmmm.... enjoy people. :)

Me Being Me

As per usual, me being me, by which I mean:

Me =

• clumsy
• accident prone
• hungry
• temperamental
• spontaneous
• scatter brained
• impulsive
• impetous
• gullible
• tendency to make fun of all the above, in an attempt to concile myself with my iniquities, and also so it adds a rosier-tinge to my badly-painted self-portrait in the world's eyes.

*Teehee*

(Hope the latter works, because the former didn't.)

So anyways, today's activities were basically, dragging myself out of bed after a 7am-sleep, and being treated to yummy Curry Mee in Dickens Street. Good stuff, although, I must say, it is nothing, without pork. Nomnomnom, me loves me porkies. ^__^

After that, we walked over to Chowrasta Market, the must-go haunt everytime I'm back, where I (to the disgust of my mom, and probably most of you too) sniff the air, like a dog smelling bacon on a wintry night, erm, and erm, smelling the books I get excited about.
o.O I know.. erm... it's a book-fetish I have. It's not so weird, once you let me explain, really. *goes off track as usual*

*     *     *

Back in the days, where I grew up in a lovely, high-beam-ceilinged, hand-painted tiled floor, airwell, complete with the wooden pantry where all food is kept (Here's some old-day HACCP standards for you, and noone gets food poisoning) and of course, stolen from too; the long narrow, wooden stairs leading up to a landing, where well ventilated rooms (all quirky and unique in shape) sit comfortably next to each other. We have the usual, old, heavy cupboards, filled with equal parts of mothballs and linen, lining the landing which led to a "servant's quarter" which, quite inhumanely housed, the iron bed, ironing table and laundry area. Imagine, waking up and your WORK IS ALREADY STARING YOU IN THE EYEBALL. *shiver*

So, yes, consolation was, opposite this bed, was a ceiling to floor glassed cabinet with the bottom half being a cupboard with shelves. This particular piece of furniture was stuffed full of books. You name it, you got it. These precious tablets of fantasy, knowledge, imagination and just plain ol' comical humour were squeezed in tight against each other, as dignified as they could look, and were passed around the family. Time goes by, some disappear and go on to new families with the original owner's name & date of purchase elegantly scrawled on the front corner pages, some as gifts, some as congratulatory 'furtherments of study' bestowed upon the achievement of a degree/diploma/certificate/medal/trophy; while the others stayed, got shuffled around, and new ones were introduced, by the boxes.

As I grew taller and older, the gap of the books within my childish grasping fingers diminished accordingly, and I could now read novels, classics - upgraded from the comics and fairytales I had already tired of. (I suspect the top level had a few racy and not-so-suitable for female eyes-type of books, magazines and editions. But I'll never know, because we moved out before I could so justly investigate.

I tried, I did.

Mom screamed bloody murder, when she saw me precariously perched on the edge of an open cabinet, my toes trying to grip the delicate edge between me and 'ouch', while my fingers were groping around the top, trying to grab ANYTHING I could satisfy my curiousity with.)

Which then brings me around the world and back (and you out there too, thank you for being such a saint), to the smell of those books. They ALL had that smell, being stored together with tomes kept in the family for ages and ages, stained by eager fingers, thumbing through the lives played out in fast forward, watermarked by falling asleep in the bath and sneakily reading while at it, some pencilled marks here and there, eating while reading and all the other activities of any avid-reader-family that contribute to that delicious look, smell and feel of these books. That same, exact smell greeted me everytime I slid those glass doors, all tingly waiting for my next imaginary adventure.

That same, exact smell exists right now, in dingy, musty, crowded and dust-filled lots of the secondhand book traders Nasir, Mohammed, Iskandar and Samar, with the faint wet-market smells wafting up and the muffled cries of afternoon traders outside the building selling their wares. So, imagine being me, and everytime I smell those smells, all this comes flooding back to me (takes me faster than I explain it, I assure you). Those smells, to me, represent

HOME

*     *     *

And that is why, I eagerly smell every book I get excited about. Best part, I've not gotten any weird exotic respiratory diseases and so far, in my book-sniffing experiences, I've not come across a FOUL book before. =D

*PHEW* OK, back to square ermm 0, by which, we are approximately now at square 5216563281.3864, we went back, to bathe, freshen up, and I tried my utmost best to get some work done. After which, dinner was designated to the Brown field, where THREE different areas serve THREE different types and choices of food. The Malay/Mamak sections were open at the time, the Chinese ones open at night, and the ones in the field were of a varied choice. Looking at all these stalls, I didn't know what to eat, and so contented myself with a lovely, lovely, very toffee-ish-tasting Nescafe Ais, by this adorable, hardworking Indian boy, who (by KL Standards) speaks indiscernibly like a Northern Malay, and quickly switched his orders into Tamil, delegating them to the stalls according to order. THIS, to me, is the essence of Penang, and the essence of Malaysia (which, I shall and have probably, gone into, in another post).

Then, we drove up the winding roads, past the new bungalows on the hillsides and finally, reaching the neon-strip of tourist and bootlegged paraphernelia (I've been wanting to use that word for a few days now, forgive the literary snobbery). I launched into Penang mode only to discover that the missing DVD from my collection (thanks Eelyn, for Houdini-ing my "Grandma's Boy" into oblivion) and so just settled for lesser choices.

After which, Mom said I should go eat and so we ended up in Yunus. Me, scouting the area for any uninformed friends, and coast being clear, went to stand and chat my life away to Yunus. He talked about everything, the old and new, and then asked me what I wanted to eat. As usual, he knew my fave, which was the Tomyam Mama Mee soup, with an egg. His signature is chopped up roasted chicken, which he fries again with spices and chilli, generously spooning this mixture onto steaming noodles, fried or soupy. So, I finally got my food, made my way to the table and it already had my TTKKKM (Teh Tarik Komtar Kao Kurang Manis - ask me this in person, me is lazy) sitting on the table.

IanPenguin called, and I manuevered the chopsticks with one hand, and the phone with the other. I felt quite restricted as I could not quite have my noodle/soup combination and eat it at the same time, it was, nooodle nooodle... soup soup...sipsoupsipsoupslurpppp..

When I finally signed off, I went for the noodles, heart, soul, stomach and (obviously, due to the results later on) no mind and no inhibitions.

My last wonderful bite, had the eggyolk, pale yellow on the outside, like a soft-baked cookie, with a deep yellow heart, just the right amount of noodles, soup and of course, the yummy bits of chicken. *NGAUPP* I took my bite, and chewed a bit, and when I swallowed, not only did my esophagus expand, so did my eyelid-coverage.

Along with all that yummy goodness, there happened to be a huge chicken bone hidden somewhere.

OK. I know.. there are tons of remedies sworn by your cousin's mother's father's friend's brother's inlaw's uncle's son's aunty's pastor's wife's neighbour's dog's gardener's grandmother (usually, ladies who are not prone to 'swearing').

I have tried everything. EVERYTHING. Everything, I mean, everything I could possibly think of, from my mixed heritage/experiences/cultures/friends/etc and even what the Internet could offer.

*Sigh* Results were stated (still how I am feeling right now) on FB, right HERE complete with my imaginary mind (as explained by the bookery above) and pop-culture's evil nuances through the inexhaustible Final Destination sagas.

Curiouser & Curiouser

The Probability of something happening on any of the 7 days in a week is very high.

*duh*

Today was a relatively bad day. But it had it's moments which, I found, quite amusing..

Firstly, upon leaving my half-witted answers for the last part of the Econs paper I just had today, I was told that the Marketing exam was already done with. I was like, WTH?! and ran all the way to the wrong board (at first) only to discover that it was, as I thought, on Wednesday, as planned. *major phew*


Then, I had to go up to the bank and when I was turning into the head-in parking lot, this stupid chingchong pimply woman on my left, was reversing out. And NOT LOOKING. I blared my horn to no avail. So, she basically scraped my car door with her Kenari bumper. Stupid Cow. At first she said, "Sorry ah...". Then when I asked her what she was going to do about it, she got all defensive and said, "It's just a small thing." I said, "Yes, but to repaint the whole damn door costs a lot. This isn't kindergarten." "So what you want now?" she says. So not in a mood to bargain or even look at her another time, what more hear her voice and call her on my phone, my head aching, I just flicked her away with my hand, saying, "Just get out of my sight and learn how to drive." I should've just started sharpening some knives just to get her to pay me straight away.

Then, when I was driving, the tyres were making noise. The alignment was long overdue, and so I thought of getting it done the next day. Mana tau, when I reached home, the tayar actually pamcit-ed. Ian has it in his boot now, nicely hissing away the last remnants of its funky smelling air, so we can get it patched up tomorrow. Not the first time for that silly tyre. Gosh.

Funny moments was when I went to 7E to get some stuff, and when I walk in, the guy was talking to his friend, stopped mid-sentence and said, "Alhamdulila! *some mumbling*" and drops my items and change. Staring follows me out of the store. (wth?!?)

Then this guy who works in Badass Coffee, "Henry" as Ian calls him, who vaguely reminds me of Calvinator, was carrying my fish and chips towards me. I looked up and smiled, because, that's like my only meal so far for the day! And he dropped the cutleries on the laminated wooden floor, which, frankly, does not sound good with reverbrating steel knives and forks. Helter skelter. And then everyone looked at ME. (Is my smile that scary?) My face immediately turned down towards the keyboard, trying to keep my expression straight. And then, he just sheepishly edged the plate on to the table, mumbling, "I.. get.. some more.. er.. I come back..for you..." Walking off, he did a turn and looked at me and went to get cutleries. He took pretty darned long, and came back with a tray full of drinks and actually stood in the middle of the room , debating whether to give the hungry girl her cutleries , or to be practical and deliver the drinks first. I wanted to smile to reassure him, but seeing as that doesn't have very good track record, I just acted blur and kept doing my work. Of course, when they arrived, there was a mini, obligatory, 'oh' of surprise and a thank you, teeth all firmly out of sight. I don't know why, but I feel like the more embarassed one in this situation.

Upon leaving Tropicana, I was of course, plagued by bad traffic and higgledypiggledy driving. Then I realised. It wasn't just the jam. There was this irritating silver Myvi chinese boy P driver, zigzagging in and out. He was at first beside me. And then, he overtook me. Then he swerved slightly, his head slightly cocking to the middle, and drove super slow. I moved to the next lane, swearing under my breath, thinking he was either on the phone, or had dropped his girlfriend on the floor or something. Then he sails up next to me, me being in a slightly slower lane hence not being able to overtake him, staring at me. I was thinking, "@#$%^ this fellow super kuai lan now." And, the whole way to the LDP Furniture flyover, he was overtaking me, and staring in the rearview mirror. When I overtake him, and turn to give him the tut-tut stare, he pula looks in the side mirror, and stares at me when I pass him. So discomforting. It wasn't like that gangster challenging stare. It was just plain Staring.

On the way back, stopping under the flyover, I noticed the raggedy low cost flats on my left, were being torn down. First reaction was, CRAP, did it give way? Then, as I looked, I realised it was all in the name of development. So I just wondered, whether they found any skeletons in the walls, or what it's like to look back at that space where you/someone has grown up and spent most of their lives in, just reduced to dirty walls, rubble and metal. Then this Black Myvi came beside me. Rude to stare, time to expand my kaypo horizons. So, hesitatingly, I looked to my right, expecting more destruction. And saw that quintessential Malaysian banner, you know the one, the yellow, red and blue Hibiscus-like pattern, with it being draped everywhere, hanging off the top ceiling of what looked like a multi-level carpark. Puzzled I was. I mean, it looked really weird, and I was wondering what went through that person's head when he decided to put it there, and that was when I turned back, checking the traffic lights. That was when I realised, that the black-myvi-chinese-guy was staring at me. Like right smack full frontal stare. So I turned slightly and he snapped his attention back to the front. He then did some mini act, of "*huff* Why the lights so long? *huff*" with the pretend stress face. Ok la, maybe he didn't see me face, and just saw a headful of hair. My mind wandered and so did my gaze. Brake lights blinked, and I looked ahead. BAM! He was staring that same stare again. Wth. Freaky.

This time, kau-kau checking my reflection. Maybe I'd grown Shrek antennas or my hair was standing up like Mary or whatever la. Takde pun. Tired, pissed off, bored and having 'turds-at-gate' moment. Maybe it was the combination of all those emotions.

Reaching home, I did a little stalking and found Ian and StinkyTinky walking. Picked them up, because, they were BOTH lazy to continue walking, pffft! and brought them back.

Speaking of weird encounters, on Friday, din-din day, :) Which I shall label as from now on and create a logbook for.. *idea spark* I was in Jaya Grocer, Empire, and was picking out some prawns. Funny, the same sized prawns are labeled as XL in Giant, and as S in JG. Anyways, super fresh, and nice looking ones, then this Myanmar-looking guy speaks to me from behind the counter. My fingers paused in mid-air, "Sorry?" And I realise he just spoke Cantonese. Sorry to all Chinese people out there, Je suis Banane. So I smiled apologetically and say, "Sorry, I don't speak Chinese." So he signals to another guy, outside of the counter, and Guy 2 comes up and says the same thing to me, "Lei oi mai mat yue?" Of course I understood him, but life would have it that I speak disgraceful and extremely laughable Cantonese, so I repeated as above. To stop them hovering, I just kept quiet and started picking out the prawns. So they stood by, in case, I were to ask for anything, chatting to each other over the counter.


To my horror of horrors, I discovered that their conversation was solely about me.


In Hokkien some more.


I lost count of prawns.


Remember me wanting to read people's minds? OH NO. Trust me. It isn't nice being talked about when you are right there. Only one knows what they said. Because I shall not repeat it anymore. *zip*

*grimace*


One who hears all craves deafness or a mute button.


Anyhoos, late night munchies were:
Cream cheese, cherry tomato & basil sandwiches with a dash of balsamico. Pretty nice acchually!

And Nips (with raisins!) Candy coated, chocolate covered raisins are so not palatable. Me likee M&Ms, Smarties and Maltesers. And Mars Almond bars, which they stopped totally! :( and Bounty. And Kinder Bueno chocolate and wafer bars. And Turkish Delight, which I used to hate, are now fantabulous. And After Eight. And that honeycomby one. MM. As well as, the old Cadbury one, with the two wafers, and like, fans of chocolate in between, and is covered in more chocolate. The names eludes my dysfunctional brain. *yum* Anything with Dark Cherry, Strawberry, Orange, Coffee goes with chocolate. Yum. None of that peanuts and whatnots. Hazelnuts and almonds, fine. Raisins, depending.

And the one I just ate, doesn't taste.... so raisiny.

ew

*banishes thought with a squirm and continues mugging those Mktg notes with brain wide shut*

Embarassing Moments #20x - Singapore Edition.

You'd think that people would grow out and run out of possible embarassing scenarios as time goes by, but oh no, it is not True.

I said 'Thank you' to a vending machine, in front of a long line of irritated (and hopefully slightly bemused) Singaporeans, when I finally figured out how to get my drink out of the machine.

***********************************************************

And, just now, the phone in the serviced apartment rang, so I chirpily answered, saying,

"American Idol Auditions."

Followed by awkward silence, and a slightly hesitant voice saying,

"Good evening ma'am. Er.... the door to your room is open. The guard was doing his rounds and we'd just like to inform you."

*MAJOR EMBARASSED LAUGH from me*

"Ooer, thanks. It's ok. I've got friends coming up and down so no worries."
(I wonder how much sense that sentence made now that I'm typing it out.

Oh well. Maybe it's the lack of sleep.

Or maybe it's just me.

Til my next encounter. :)

*skedaddles off to a cold bed, surrounded by glassware & linens*