Confirmed Dengue

Granma's in SJMC, recuperating from a bout of dengue. (Yes, I realised I spelled that wrong in my previous post, thanks Arion)

There won't be any substantial updates for a while, apart from heads ups like these to inform people that I am in fact neither dead nor married, just busy. I'll probably be spending most of my time in SJMC with my gran. Platelet count is down to 28 hundred thousand, normal people have between 150 to 400. She'll need more platelets if the count drops below 20, so we're still hoping it doesn't have to come to that.

Just to show you how beautiful my gran is, she's the one with the snow white hair. Pic's a bit blurry, but it's not my doing. Originally posted in Notes from PD.

To look that good at 71, that is my wish. Oh heck, I'll settle for being alive. :p

Back when I was in Form four my best friend decided to try out for a prefect position. Obviously we all thought she was nuts and tried to talk her out of it, but then she's stubborn as a mule so it was all for naught. Three months after we told her she was crazy, she put on the blue uniform and proudly pinned her prefect badge on her left shirt pocket. And proceeded to be bullied into utter submission by the 'bad boys' in the Form 5 classes.

Crucial lesson of the year: nothing changes, school lines were still drawn the same way.

Because of her position, I got to know the KM of the school, whose name is Ooi Keng. He jokingly refered to himself as Ketua Maksiat, and he was one of the less anal KMs in the history of our school. He doesn't lose his head whenever an infrcation's committed, and he doesn't pop a green vein yelling at students who're apparently deaf when it comes to bring bossed around by prefects.

Since Form four freshies don't go around mixing with worldly, sophisticated Upper Six guys, I don't thik he ever knew who I was, apart from maybe 'that tall specky girl'. I remembered him as being very reasonable and approachable, so unlike all the other anal retentive KMs we've had in the past. The next KM after Ooi Keng would forever be remembered in the annals of SMKDL history as being the Most Anal Of Them All.

Yesterday I got a phone call from my best friend, informing me that Ooi Keng has passed away because of denggi. Our ex-KM was working in Sabah, and left his fever untreated until it was too late for anyone to do anything.

He was 25 years old.

Anomalos

"Zhok fan ah, fatt siew zhong yam kopi!"

Translation: WTH do you think you're doing drinking coffee when you're feverish?

She walked like a baby penguin, with unsure footsteps, as she went to the loo. I found her cup with coffee in it this afternoon and to my horror, proceeded to grumble and nag like a fishwife on menopause, completely unaware that I was doing it.

For as long as I have known her, my granma has never been sick. Well, except for that one time she was hospitalised for a uterus operation thingy, but that was back when I was still at the age where crying was acceptable, and it's not technically an illness.

You know the disconcerting feeling you get when you're tossed into an unfamiliar situation?

I won't exactly say this is out of my comfort zone, but it's weird that I'm the one checking on her when she's sleeping in her room, and refilling her thermos for her. Most of all, I understand now why she nags me to go see the good doctor in Pudu instead of Pertama whenever I'm ill (Pertama has quack docs, depending on the time and day of visit) and tells me to stop shovelling ice-cream down my throat when I'm having some mild coughing (it would develop into something worse, like the bout of bronchitis I got earlier). I also know why she worries when I don't have an appetite, and why she forces me to eat even though everything tastes like cardboard. I've known she cares a lot about us, I just didn't comprehend how it feels like to be on the other side.

It's funny what it takes for me to realise that she's well into her 70s.

People who play around with medication

Halp me, halp me! I'm repressed! (Shamelessly stolen from Chaos, who probably stole it somewhere else)

Seriously, no. I was rooting around in my medicine cabinet for some of my leftover codeine pills and I found this packet of weird-looking stuff instead.

FRONT VIEW

THE SHINY SHINY BACK

On the back it says:
BETASERC
16 mg tablets
betahistine.2HCl

Googling yielded nothing much, as the only website I understand on the list says it's a tranquiliser of some sort. Okay, so maybe it's not a tranquiliser tranquiliser, but it's supposed to steady your nerves. Or something.

I'm pinging this in PPS cos that's what every normal person would do: ask for help on the internet. Sorta like this thread. On a Gaming forum. So, does anyone know what it's supposed to do?

What's another word for 'screwed'?

"Fucked," apparently.

We were supposed to hand in an assignment that's worth 30% of our grade today, but apparently the entire class got the paradigms wrong. Paradigm's a big word, innit? To give you a simplified, everyday idea of the assignment, they show you two fruits, say an apple and a durian. You're required to identify the fruit before writing your paper. The entire class said the apple was the durian and wrote about how apples are pokey and foreigners (who have no taste) can't stand the smell.

Now let's play a game. Hold up your left hand. Got it? Now test your motor skills and try to hold your thumb and index finger so that they're about an inch apart. Right, now imagine that space filled with paper. Imagine that paper filled with size 10 font. To really make the game interesting, the words are written by stuffy academics with names like Durkheim, Hovland and Horkheimer. One look at the names and you know you're waist-deep in manure.

That inch of paper is the only glimmer of hope we have of ever getting this assignment right. Told you paradigm's a big word. Gotta hand it to the guys who invent swear words, "I'm fucked," is a pretty eloquent way of summing up my whole day. In fact, the whole week.

Hooray for boobies.

That statement was totally irrelevant. I just wanted to be random cos I need a stiff drink and I can't have one.

The good news is we got an extension. The thing is now due on Thursday. The bad news is at the rate we're going, failure is the only bloody option.

Animal show

Click here

You need flash and Mandarin to play.

Chemical exploits

Every science stream student, pure or otherwise, cannot possibly get his or her Sijil Berhenti Sekolah without blowing up the chem lab at least once. For those of you too old to remember, Science streams now comes in Pure and, uh, Impure. I forgot the name, will edit it in later when I remember or when someone tells me what it's called. Anyway, today I'll talk about my embarassing exploits while dealing with dangerous chemicals.

So...let's start with the real post now.

You know those spiffy white coats and the eye-protector thingies we're supposed to wear when we're in the chem lab? Forget about those. It's a fantasy, like we're supposed to be wearing protective headgear and be sober while wielding rusty mallets in the bengkel Kemahiran Hidup. It only exists in textbooks and private schools. My alma mater was an el-cheapo government-funded school with gangfights every other Friday (people in the Pandan area would recognise the name Gangster School), so I guess we were pretty lucky to have a chem lab at all.

One fine day while I was in Form 4, we were lining up outside the lab waiting. Now that I think about it, I have no idea why they make us stand outside when the teacher's already in. I mean, god forbid if anyone ever tried to explain the sense of it all to us.

That day, we were supposed to be doing some sort of experiment listed in the book, and if memory serves we were supposed to heat up some magnesium tape in a little ceramic bowl. We had six tables in the lab, so about 8 of us were assigned to each table. We gathered the necessary apparatus and happily began assembling the Bunsen Burner. As with all chemical stuff, the trick of this experiment is the bowl must not touch direct flame, so you had to hover it on top of the Bunsen burner and move your hand (that's holding the tongs that're gripping the bowl) around.

Because we didn't have enough tongs, some of us had to heat it holding the ceramic bowl itself. Obviously this needed some tricky maneuvering so you don't heat up your fingers in the process, so the guys, who're naturally more limber and lithe than us clumsy girls, had to relinquish the tongs. Not a peep about sexism out of y'all please, thanks.

After about 3 minutes of hovering, I got bored. Ever notice how kids are usually subdued and zen-like before lunch and crazy and jumping around after lunch? I think they do it on purpose and time chem periods right after lunch so that kids will start thinking about some wacky experiments to do with all those tempting bottles of chemicals lying around, just so they can send more kids to the principal's room.

So what I did after feeling bored was let go of the tongs and placed the bowl right on the burner. Now from this action you know 2 things. First, that I never pay attention during McGyver or I would've known that magnesium + fire = not good in a confined space. Two, that I never paid any attention in chem class, otherwise I would've known that magnesium + fire = not good in a confined space.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd been the only one to do that, but one by one my friends from the other tables started putting down their ceramic bowls on the burner as well. From this, you know that no one in my class watches McGyver and/or pays attention during chem class. You would also be able to make an educated guess that out of a class of 40+ students, maybe 2 or 3 manage to get into double digits in their ujian bulanan.

Now, because the magnesium has been heating up while we were happily chatting away, eventually the one in my bowl started to spit black stuff. No one gave it any notice except for the class nerd (which is most definitely NOT me), and she started to look in the textbook to see if the magnesium was supposed to do that. While she was looking, suddenly all the bowls in the lab starting spitting too, and everyone was distancing themselves from the table cos they didn't want to get any of the tar-like substance on their clothes, especially the girls in baju kurungs. Now that I know how to cook, I know that whenever something doesn't look right the first thing you do is turn the fire off.

I did not how to cook back then.

While we were watching, white acrid smoke started pouring out of the ceramic bowl right before our very eyes. Honestly, for a small piece of tape like that, you'd think it would be easy to handle, but boy you'd be wrong. The smoke seemed to be endless, and at this point the teacher woke up from her slumber cos it really was very bad. She was kinda angry and spitting herself, but then I guess a lab full of smoke is not really a welcoming sight to wake up to.

In short, the lab was evacuated and the school gardener (who doubles as lab assistant, apparently) went into the lab with his lidi broom. I have no idea what he did in there, but lab classes were cancelled the whole day. I didn't get into trouble either, cos technically it wasn't my fault if I never verbally instigated anything. The downside was the teacher never slept in our chem class anymore.

The end.

You'd realise that this entry isn't very embarassing, considering. Because of my itchy hands, I've pasted a code thingy that tracks links to my site, and I found out that today my site got 130+ hits. To your everyday celebrity like Uncle Buaya or Kim, that might not be a lot, but it kinda freaks me out that 130+ people know that my cousin brother called me up to ask about bjs. Previously I thought at most 20 people read what I write.

So no more of the really embarassing stuff until I get used to this number.

Scribbles:
Sijil Berhenti Sekolah: The cert you get to certify you've never been expelled during your years in secondary school.
Bengkel Kemahiran Hidup: The place where they keep rusty saws and mallets for students to build cassette holders. Yes, cassettes were still in fashion back then. Official translation is Life Sciences workshop.
Pandan area: the place where my secondary school is located.
ujian bulanan: directly translated, monthly exams. Funnily enough, our exams were held once every 3 months, so it was 1st monthly exam, followed by mid sem exams, followed by 3rd monthly test and finally the final exam.

Science streams in Malaysia are categorised under Pure Science, which means the student takes Add Maths, Chemistry, Physics and Biology, and the other Science stream means you take a combination of science and arts subjects.

She bakes too!

Didn't turn out so good, meat was tough and I put too much black pepper. But it still looks pretty. I swear to god this is my last I-can-cook-aren't-I-super? post. :)

Kids bare the oddest body parts

A few days ago...

Me: "Hello?"

Curt, gruff. Haven't had lunch yet and I get a little cranky when I'm hungry, only I don't know it's because I'm hungry.

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Hello? Ah Laine jie jie ah?"

That's not really my name. They just like to call me that.

Cranky ogre: "Yes la, who's this?"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "I'm Ah Hong ah. I got a question to ask you ah jie jie,"

Sure is some stupid math question. Luckily he's still in primary school, so I don't have to mess up my brain thinking about stupid Physics equations. Should use a more grumpy voice so he quits asking after question number 5.

Cranky ogre: "Gong la,"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "What is blowjob?"

Cranky ogre sputtered into the phone. It must be a mistake, I just heard wrongly. It's all my dad's fault for buying a cheap-ass wireless phone that has absolutely no quality at all. Pull out the whole antenna thingy also static like heck. Standing on the balcony also static like heck.

Cranky and nervous ogre: "What do you mean? How do you spell that?"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Blowjob ah. B-L-O-W-J-O-B."

Cranky and nervous ogre: "Who ask you this one? You online now ah?"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Yes lor, my friend on MSN ask me what is blowjob,"

I thought he was surfing for porn, the bastard. Okay, not a bastard anymore. He just needs better friends. Hmmm, okay. Do I explain what a blowjob is to him? The kid's 10, he has no business knowing what adults like to do to other adults. Does he? Jesus, that's not a question I should be answering, I've never even entertained the thought of having kids before, much less what kids should be hearing at 10! Right, parents! Ask his mom!

Close-to-panic-attack ogre: "Err, err, your mommy at home or not?"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "She's taking nap wor."

Close-to-panic-attack ogre: "Wake her up la!"

You can see I have absolutely no sympathy at all for stay-at-home moms who choose napping over answering their inquisitive son's questions about uncomfortable things like this.

Close-to-panic-attack ogre: "Who's your friend? From school ah? Why he ask you question like this geh?"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Yes lor. He say his friend ask him wor,"

Close-to-panic-attack ogre: "Tell him to ask his mommy la."

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Hah?"

Ooh, bad move. That could get everyone in trouble.

Ogre in panic attack: "Okay, I tell you now. You go and tell your friend that's what married people do. If he wants further explanation tell him to ask his mom. Or you can ask your mom when she wakes up? Okay? Settle? Byebye,"

Squeaky disjointed voice on phone: "Bye bye jie jie,"

***

As clearly illustrated in the example above, I cannot handle kids at all. Adults I can manage, you either yell or sweet talk. Kids are a whole new breed of... things that should never be allowed to use the phone to call hungry and unsuspecting cousin sisters for information.

Parents, what do you say when your kid tosses out something like this?


Minor scribbles:
jie jie: sister. In this case it means cousin sister, cos I'm his cousin. Bleah.

Saffy's Challenging Thursday

Step 1: grab 10 Jacob's crackers (I like mine full of wheaty goodness).
Step 2: challenge your oaf of a brother to an eating game.

Of course, crunching dry crackers 5 at one go would not be challenging unless your teeth are made of tofu, so the rule is to not use your hands. At all. Once your hand(s) touches any part of the biscuit you lose. Once a crumb bigger than your pinky nail drops off you lose. Once you sputter at the sight of a grown adult trying to maneuver a biscuit around his mouth without hands you lose. Needless to say, once you start spewing hunks of half-masticated biscuit dough all over the floor/face you lose automatically as well.

Since this could get pretty messy it's advised that you do this in a bathroom or the balcony. Easy-cleaning is the word of the day here.

The reason I picked crackers is because they're the only stuff I can eat due to the stomach virus I got when I went to school on Monday. I went to school for ONE day and came back with a virus. This is great, you know. It proves Becker's rubberband theory. Things were going too good for me last semester, so this semester the rubberband is taking back all the stretch it gave me before.

Broken dreams

There are some men who affect you more than others, people who walk in your life and spend some time with you, and as all relationships are wont to play out, when the time comes for them to leave you, they leave you forever changed. You never know if it's for better or for worse, but you have changed.

You lie awake at night thinking about the whole relationship, thinking about the decisions you made, and you want to fantasise about what it would have been like if you'd been willing to give up your career and have babies with this man, the one whom you really love.

A few years down the line, the memory still lingers, sweetness tinged with regret. You don't want to forget him but you don't want to think about him either, because it still hurts to know you're not together till the end of time. You want to think he misses you too, but you dismiss it as romantic nonsense. You want to think about where you would be now with him to inspire you, to arouse and energise.

And then there are some men whom you meet serendipitously. Men whom you still hold dear, men you miss, achingly at times, but you would never admit it. These men you talk to haltingly, eagerly, all the time marvelling at the chance sleight-of-hand that brought the two of you together again.

Men who are married now. Men who have a kid with their Beijing-born wives, men who say they don't believe that they are only entitled to one single love in their entire lives. These men say yes when you ask them if they're hinting at an affair with you. These men don't notice the hurt and betrayal they have so cavalierly inflicted on you. These men casually ask you if you'd like to work with them someday.

"I will never work for, or with you, Michael,"

When these people leave, they rip a chunk off your bleeding heart and they don't even know it.

CLICKITY CLICK

Cliched? Maybe. But when 'the men' is actually 'the man', broken hearts are bad enough. Broken hearts couched in broken dreams should never be endured alone, no matter how strong she thinks she is.

*story has been anonymised. it's not me, obviously.

It happened again

I read yesterday's Star (yes, I'm weird, I read yesterday's newspaper today. There's a reason for the weirdness, I'll explain it in a later post) and came across something about homosexuality and confused gender issues in Section 2.

And saw it happening again. By a reporter in a prominent newspaper. For the love of all things green and natural and pretty, if I ever see someone making a stupid mistake like this again I swear I'm going to...actually, I don't know what I'll do apart from fuming in rage. Kicking my pesky neighbour's kid might be good, but taking my anger out on someone else isn't healthy at all.

The point was whether homosexuality was inborn or nurtured. You know, the old nature vs nurture argument. The excerpt:

Regardless of whether homosexuality is inborn or nurtured, the greater question is: where does society draw the line in sexual behavior? If homosexuality is justified if it is inborn, what about adulterous, incestuous, paedophilic or bestial relationships if they are also proven "inborn"?

Violent behaviors are now thought to be genetically influenced, so are they legitimate because they are inherited?" asks Dallas.

Dallas, Joe. former gay rights activist and founder of Genesis Counselling in California. Cool dude, you're a former gay rights activist and you can't even differentiate between a valid comparison and a stupid one.

I've said this before, I'll say this again. You cannot bloody compare homosexuality to incest, paedophilia, adultery and/or bestial relationships because homosexuality is consentual and does not involve a victim or a perpetrator. No one suffers damaging pyschological scars as a result of that relationship. Incest is not consentual, and there's at least one party who's gonna be needing therapy as a result of that action. So's paedophilia. So's adultery. So's bestiality. Yes, bestiality too, cos unless you can manage to communicate with the animal you plan to have relations with, it's technically considered rape.

If you're going to argue about something, don't use stupid analogies like that to cloud the issue and try to turn people against the issue of homosexuality by linking it to disgusting and appaling things like paedophilia and bestiality. It only insults the general intelligence level of your audience and makes you look stupid as heck.

I'm going to ignore all the tacit implications that all homosexuals (male AND female) have suffered some sort of pyschological trauma and need counselling to get out of their current lifestyle. If people have suffered trauma or abuse as a kid, they may do all sorts of things when they're adults. Some 'turn gay', so to speak. Others make like Ralph Fiennes in Red Dragon and start glueing people to vintage wheelchairs. And that's just for starters.

Does anyone fact check (or have common sense) at all in the newsroom or are they blinded by the spin?

A good book...

"...BUT HISTORY
WILL CALL US WIVES."

CAN'T ACTUALLY
REMEMBER A QUOTE,
WHICH MEANS IT'S
TIME FOR A RE-READ.

"TLEILAXU EYES WERE
NOT IMMUNE TO
TEARS"

...Is one that you can bring into the jamban and read at least half of it perched on your porcelain god of choice, nevermind that your 'official business' ended 3 hours ago; nevermind that you get pins and needles in your legs after the first half hour you spend 'perching'; and nevermind that people have been banging on the door for the past 2 hours and 45 minutes wondering if you've passed out from your own noxious fumes.

A truly spectacular book is one that makes you do the same as above, except that the only toilet you own is a squat toilet. Now that's dedication!

Today's post is both mindless and mildly disgusting.

THE PENULTIMATE
IN COOLNESS

10 YEARS OLD THIS
JUNE! HB DARLING.

ACHINGLY SAD, BUT I
STILL LIKE IT. DON'T
SAY OUT LOUD WHAT
YOU'RE THINKING,
THANKS.

Scribbles...
Jamban: toilet in Malay.
'official business': given that jamban = toilet, 'official business' = ?? You do the math.

My resolution is 800x600 (yes I'm blind, I like my font huge). If the post looks weird to you I'm sorry but I don't know enough HTML to fix it.

A compendium of sorts

DELICATE, NOT JANGLY

Windchimes are such pretty things, no? Unfortunately for me, I was raised on a diet of crappy Chinese serials/movies where the delicate tinkle tinkle heralded the arrival or existence of scary ghosts that like to do nothing but spend their entire days (and nights) scaring the living and generally causing much mayhem (losing a limb is mayhem).

So today, under the glaring fluorescent lights of the RM5 shop, I closed my eyes and thoroughly enjoyed myself listening to the tinkle tinkle of the pretty little chimes. And hoped that tonight, I will be peacefully sleeping alone.

SEZ 'SAGITTARIUS' IN CHINESE
NOW YOU KNOW THREE WORDS :)

My friend SMSed me today and told me, rather excitedly, that according to my horoscope readings, I will start a relationship this year that will last for quite a while. Yes, we're girls, we like to kaypoh and compare horoscopes once in a while. I said, "Define 'quite a while' please," and she answered, "Your whole life!". Well that's scary. Item #1 on my 2005 wishlist has been dealt a grievious wound.

I wonder if the horoscope meant that we'll date for a while, break up and then remain friends for our entire lives. But I already have one of those, I don't need another one.

Also saw a pair of pants at Zara that resembled these. Unfortunately, they didn't have it in my size, so woe is me. I really really like them. *sniffles* Potong stim events like these (no available size, no avaliable colour) totally take the wind out of my sails. Bad mood and no ice-cream to help alleviate the pain, oh the horror.

THIS IS WHAT A JOURNALIST LOOKS LIKE

I think this whole journalism thing isn't working out; I ramble too much. Looking through some of my old posts, it's a wonder how anyone made it through the blocks of text, and I'm NOT fishing for compliments here. (I never fish. ;)) Of course, I've never actually sat through a Journalism lecture yet, so what I'm doing now is basically just writing stuff like normal people do.

Okay, so maybe not quite so normal.

ONLY COLOUR PIC OF THE NIGHT, HOW ABOUT IT? :)
AHEM, SELF EXPLANATORY, AHEM.

Final note: my mom is going to be reading my blog. I don't know when, I don't know why, but she'll be dropping by soon. Should I start deleting all the nasty things I said about her and all the sex-related posts in my blog? I don't think she'd appreciate reading about my Valentine's Day exploits (stupid would be linking this to make it easier for her to find :p) and I can just see myself answering "HOW do you know asparagus is bad, young lady?" (the term 'young lady' is strictly reserved for times of dire, uh, anger)

If you don't hear from me in a week, either my Streamyx conked again or I'm dead. Killed by my own mother, how sad is that? (These last few paras and the pic would probably contribute to my untimely demise, but then again life's not worth living if you don't live it dangerously)

Bring it on!

Malatlou Central

So far, Knight is the only one of my local friends who has been hitting on orc females on the wonderful World of Warcraft. Unfortunately, this tranquil scene is about to change.

Yesterday (I think it was yesterday) he was joined by Lance (warning: extreme blueness if you click on the link), who was in charge of buying 3 copies of WoW for himself, Arion and Uncle Seth Frostheart. Expect them to be in the game somewhere... oh heck, they're probably in the game already, except for poor Frosty who has to wait till Lance comes visit him to give him his precious copy of WoW.

So Lance blogged about his happiness followed by a brief explanation of his troll world, and Arion decided to showcase his smart and witty side by contributing this hilarious contribution to Berita Malam Ini. Or whatever it is they call the news now. As for Frosty, he decided to blog about his casanova-ing and lolita-ness in general.

Absolutely no mention of WoW. You can obviously see where his priorities lie. *grins*

Sour grapes are temporarily held back to congratulate these SOBs on their investment, and to wish them a great time in WoW.

Why asparagus is bad for you

No, this is not a medical warning thingy. This is a real life conversation I got stuck in when my friend abandoned me because she couldn't stand Pompous Smart Aleck. Surprisingly enough, that's not really her name.

Pompous Smart Aleck: So, as I was saying, I for one will never ever go down on a guy. It's demeaning and humiliating to women. It's just another way for men to oppress women through sex.
Me: *shrugs* If that's what you think.
Pompous Smart Aleck: You don't think I'm right?
Me: I don't even want to be in a conversation with you. (In retrospect, that wasn't very nice, but I REALLY can't stand her)
Pompous Smart Aleck: But you can't deny the fact that oral sex propagates the stereotype that a woman should always kneel before her husband, the supposed 'lord and master' of the home. (I hate it when people do the finger thing to indicate quotes. Or maybe it's just her)
Me: So don't do it at home.
Pompous Smart Aleck: *bristles* That's not the point! The point is, by indulging men by pleasuring them orally, you're technically telling them to walk all over you because you are willingly submitting to a servile position. Relationships are about balancing power, and if you let a man have power over you, your rights are being trampled upon!
Me: Balance of power?
Pompous Smart Aleck: Yes!
Me: Look here Miss SA, if I stop doing what I'm doing right before he blows his left nut, who do you think has power over whom?

At this point I had enough and walked off, so I had no idea how she reacted. Called my friend and told her I left. Not surprisingly, she had also left. Fortunately for the preservation of her good health, a meal at Chili's was promised. If you think I'm making this up, by god I only wished I was. :~( That was a painful 15 minutes I could've done without.

As for the title, asparagus is bad for you because it makes your spunk taste seriously funky. Of course, my sample size was very limited, so it's by no means conclusive.

A quick google on the words "asparagus" and "semen" found this (rather informative), this, this, this, and this (contains images not appropriate for minors). And that's just on the first page. :)

Marvel, sorta

Bro had a get-together to attend on New Year's eve, and it was a potluck thing. My friends JW and WS were also coming over, so I decided to try out my spaghetti sauce recipe, and hence the process of decimating produce began. This time, my bro helped me out and it was fun watching the goof chop up tomatoes, heheh.

SPAGHETTI SAUCE BUILT FROM SCRATCH.

Contains about 10-15 tomatoes (diced), 1 can of button mushrooms (sliced), shitloads of garlic + onion + chopped chillies, peppercorns, extra virgin olive oil, black pepper, cayenne chili powder, and McCormick's Lemon and Pepper.

Bro was standing next to me burning bacon bits to a crisp while I made the sauce. 2 firsts for me that day: first time handling so much edible material (that is a HUGE container), and first time using a normal wok instead of a non-stick pan, the kind pansies like me like to use. :)

TWIRLY PASTA + BASIL (DARK GREEN BITS) + CAPSICUM (LIGHT GREEN BITS)

Pasta was boiled, dipped into cold water to stop it from cooking any further, and set aside. Added olive oil to it to stop the whole thing from congealing into a mass of gelatin-like dough. Lube is good. ;)

Before JW and WS arrived, I dumped the pasta into the wok and heated it, adding finely-chopped capsicum for colour and basil for taste. I only had green capsicum, so had to make do. Red would've been nice.

WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE IN A BOWL

Yes, we used styrofoam bowls. Washing up is a bitch, and I like to avoid that as much as possible. The dark red stuff is the fried bacon bits. The reason the bowl is kinda dirty-looking is because this is a second helping. *grins*

BACON + TOMATOES + MUSHROOMS + PINEAPPLES + ONIONS + BASIL = SAFFY'S PIZZA

My brother's pizzas were halal. This is not. Looks nice, doesn't it? It tastes better than it looks, muahahahaha.

I was told the food tasted pretty good, although my brother's friends complained that the sauce was a tad too sour. "Be thankful you have food to eat!" was my defensive retort, heheh. While best friends tend to be biased in their judgement, there was a Ramli stall just downstairs, so it wasn't like they were held hostage by a lack of available food. JW also saw fit to bring loads of chips and soft drinks along, which is fine and dandy except I couldn't touch any of the stuff. :(

Anyway, this is much better than the horrible lasagna experience. *shudders*. I'm not the kind who can follow step-by-step instructions, so no cookbooks for me. Randomly flinging stuff into the pan and then hoping for the best is a much more funner way to cook, heheh.

Itchy hands

...make bad bed partners, especially if one of the parties is my Trillian.

The story is, one day while I fired up Trillian, I got a popup message asking me if I wanted to update to the newest free version available. So I upped and went to Cerulean Studio's website to download it. Installed it. Ran it.

Worked perfectly for a while, then the whole thing froze. So I tried clicking the x to close Opera. Then Opera froze. So I did what everyone else would do: I aimed my mouse randomly over the screen and clicked out of frustration. Then my computer froze. Whoopdedoo.

After restarting, I fired up Trillian again, only this time none of the IM clients connected. There was no way to get my old Trillian back. Now, I'm using Miranda. Unfortunately, for my ICQ list, it doesn't display nicks, just UINs. I'm not going to bother checking which number belongs to who so I'll not be messaging anyone, ya? Unfortunately2, try as I may, Miranda doesn't blink when I receive incoming messages. Well, it DOES blink, but not every time, and erraticness sucks. If I haven't replied you in a while, I'm either oblivious to the fact that you've said something or I'm in the loo. Probably the former, since I rarely spend more than 5 minutes in there.

The kicker? My brother told me to never ever download new versions of anything until it's been certified to work better than the old version. Unfortunately for me (that's the third one already), he told me about 4 hours after I installed the new Trillian.

Moral of the story? If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Newer models may be flashier, but older models are more reliable (ahem to a certain someone, please take note *grins*).

Fish and Bicycles

FOR THE FISH, CLICKITY CLICK.

Let's start with a declarative statement today.

I have a problem with guys who insist on paying for me when we go out.

It's not that I'm a modern woman who feels offended because my ability to fend for myself is slighted. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a militant feminist. I totally support abortion, prostitution, beauty contests and women in tacky french maid uniforms frolicking suggestively with dustpans and being caught on Kodachrome.

Okay, so people who make pornos prefer to use equipment that spawns grainy porn videos with terrible 8-bit sound that makes fake moans and wet slapping sounds sound even more torturous to the ears, but that's no reason to stop hoping that one day Kodachrome would make a return.

(I actually have no idea what Kodachrome is, but my photography-nut friend assures me that it is the equivalent of a machine the size of an iPod that can play all PS2, PC and Xbox games)

Maybe the reason I'm so anal about going dutch has something to do with the fact that my parents have deeply ingrained into my pysche that it is not okay to blithely take things from other people. When I was a kid I was forbidden to borrow money from friends (especially during the typical end-of-the-month brokeness) no matter what. If it matters, I have a problem with my friends paying my share for me as well.

FOR THE BIKE, CLICKITY CLICK.

But most of all, I think it's the weight of expectations that I don't like. I'm afraid that there would be a lot of unnecessary grief later in the night, possibly when the date's about to end. There's very little worse than getting to the end of a date and the both of you are expecting something different from each other. I may be expecting at worst a chaste kiss on the cheek (face), he may be expecting to be invited up for coffee or whatever euphemism for sex that's currently hip and popular to use.

It sucks even more if you really like the guy, cos once you feel outraged and he feels cheated, it's hard to go anywhere beyond being hi-bye friends. That is, IF you manage to stay friends at all.

Of course, I totally expect comments about the archaicness of my generalisations, my belief that a guy will expect something in return for the money that he has spent, and I admit that this is grossly unfair to the guys who're being genuinely nice, but I find paying my own share easier to deal with. It completely eliminates the 'what if' factor, and at the end of the day there're no misconceptions and/or expectations that I have to deal with. These things could get really ugly, really fast.

This way, I'm not obligated to repay the favour and the guy's not obligated to spend a bomb to buy sex. And let's face it, that's exactly what it is when you take 'love' out of the equation, not that I have anything against buying sex. I just like to call a spade a spade.

Besides, if it's obligation sex, where's the fun in that? I figured this way, at the very least the guy I'm with knows that if I blow him, it's not because I want him to buy me jewellery.

Title of blog post totally tongue-in-cheek. Cross my heart. *grins*

Gripes make the world go round

Because I'm stupid, I decided to heed JW's call to take the LRT to KLCC today. If you don't already know this about me, I have a principle that I adhere to, which is to avoid places like KLCC, Midvalley and 1 Utama like the plague on weekends, and especially on weekends that coincide with public holidays.

And yet for some reason, I decided to break that rule today. Well, yesterday, to be exact, but my (funky) internal clock is still in 2004, so bleah.

The day got off to a bad start when JW woke up late. I remembered to call her after I gau tim-ed my loo stuff, and woke her up. We ended up arriving at the LRT station at 11.30 pm, hence kissing movie tickets goodbye. By the time we got to the Putra station, things were not looking up. The throngs of people at the ticket counter should be the clue to turn back right that moment, but then I'm the girl who once stood at the (now closed) Metrojaya bus stop for 2 hours and 45 minutes waiting for an Intrakota bus to come take me home, so you can see I'm not exactly big on changing travel plans. To the point of being stupid, yeah. :p

SAFFRON WAS HERE!

When the packed, and I mean PACKED (caps and italics for added emphasis) Putra train rolled to a stop, we managed to squeeze in. Here's an FYI for travellers: You don't always have to stand where the metal bars are located. The Putra guys have conveniently installed those rubber handheld thingies on the overhead bars that would prevent you from falling when the train stops/moves/jerks/stalls etc. Well, provided you're actually holding on to them.

I forgot what time we got there (I don't wear a watch), but it was dfinitely after noon. WS managed to squeeze into her own Putra train after work to meet us there, oh, say noonish. Yes, she's working on New Year's day. No, she does not get extra pay. Yes, we have told her to find another job not where she is not supervised by Eqyptian slave-drivers. No, she is not listening to us. Yes, she is crazy/stupid/nuts.

So, KLCC huh? Wow, they renovated the place. And wow, the scary Ribena tree from last year was back with a vengeance.

RIBENA TREE, WITH CLUSTERS OF GRAPES!

After dilly-dallying for a while, we ended up eating at Chillis and holy cow the servings were huge. Cheese is good. :) I sipped hot tea while WS + JW had a ball with the limey lemonade that looked really good. Willpower maut, sheesh.

Walked around the place after we got tired of sitting on our asses and stuffing our faces with food. WS was the only one who managed to buy anything. Figured I had to wait while they were trying anyway, so I tagged along in fitting rooms and tried on clothes as well, just for the heck of it.

After KLCC, spent another 20 minutes or so squashed in the Putra train. Another FYI for travellers: it is always courteous and polite to stand aside and let the people who wanna get out of the train get out before you attempt to shove your way in. It is not nice to ignore repeated Excuse Me-s that're coming out of my mouth. I'm not saying it because I like the way it sounds, and you better get out of my way before I fucking elbow you in the nose for standing in my way.

FYI3, the elbow is the strongest part of your body. Go ask a doctor or something. If I'm right, that's probably why you see footballers and NBA behemoths doing it so much.

The STAR LRT station was, as usual, packed with people. Okay, FYI4: Just because the escalator (no one uses the stairs, a waste of concrete and tiles) takes you up to a certain point doesn't mean you have to stop and stand there like you're rooted to the spot. Walk a few steps to where the first car would stop and you'll be guaranteed a more comfy journey. Yes, I realise that that part of the station would be packed with people, but it's more than likely that the people at the other stations down the line are as lazy as you are and rarely take the time to walk the short distance, so you won't have this huge mass of people heaving in every time the doors open.

I have to say though, the kiddies who take the LRT were much more well-behaved.

After we reached our destination, we piled into JW's claptrap car and drove to a cafe where we had our yamcha session + bitch fest. JW drives a really old tank car with doors that're practically unhinged, and I'm not exaggerating. On the upside it's kinda fun to see those flashy Benzes move out of her way because the owners are afraid of friendly JW ramming into their RM600-a-pop headlights. FYI5, never ever get into a on-the-road pissing contest with an old claptrap car. You know, the type with peeling paint, a missing side mirror, rust on the doors and a real iron bumper. You'll definitely have more to lose.

To end this on a high note, public transport just makes my heart expand with luuuurve for the mass of humanity who call KL home.

Notes
gau tim: completed. 'Tis Cantonese.
yam cha: drink tea. 'Tis Cantonese.

Where did Saffy get the money? Last year's remaining ang pow loot. *grins* Instead of being sensible and budgeting stuff for this month's lunches, I decide to blow it all on a good meal.

LRT pics stolen from this site.
Ribena tree pic stolen from this site

All images are credited to their respective owners.

To live in a world where...

More than anything else, I pride myself on being a follower. :) This is where the 'naive and idealistic' part in my profile really shines through, so if being cynical is your cup of tea, you might wanna give this a wide berth.

...it is safe to trust again.

...compassion and empathy are not such rare commodities.

...being good for the sake of being good is not a sign that your brain needs serious rewiring.

...groups of people are not labeled as if they are something less-human because of the choices or mistakes that they have made.

...you can either judge or love. You can't do both at the same time. And if you absolutely have to judge, let it be based on merit.

...it goes without debate that religion does more good than bad for the world.

...teachers, country leaders and police officers are respected and looked up to.

...children are not forced into the rat-race so young that they are deprived of the joys of finding tadpoles in a monsoon drain.

...screwing people over to get what you want is not acceptable.

...it is mandatory to think something through before saying it out loud. Especially the important things.

...changing your opinion or belief doesn't mean you're weak. Being irrationally persistent in the belief that something is right when it has been logically proven wrong is weak.

...rewards and punishments are given based purely on merit.

...it is safe enough to smile at the person standing next to you at the bus stop.

...it is understood that people always have their own reasons for doing the things that they do. No one arbitrarily decides to jump out a window or rape someone. Once the reason is understood the problem can then be tackled.

...really bad people get their just desserts in this lifetime.

...things that are private should remain private and not be subjected to unneeded scrutiny from the nosy public.

...people believed in "judge not lest ye be judged" and "let he who is without sin cast the first stone".

...your beliefs are really yours, and you are capable of defending them no matter who calls you out on them.

...women are not blamed for every single social ill.

...someone who helps out of the sheer joy of helping is not viewed with suspicion and distrust.

...there will no longer be a need for jails.


Happy New Year!

2005 wishlist

For 2005, I would like to get a good boyfriend.

...you didn't honestly think that was all I was going to post on the first day of the new year, did you? I may be trivial, but not that much so.

Onwards to the REAL wishlist