I am in a blogging mood, so I blog

It was the first time in my years as a Starbucks yuppie that I ever come across such … behaviour.

Lovey dovey couples, I could handle, posers drinking the ice blendeds, I could handle, but this one really takes the cake.

After about three hours, one hot and one iced Mocha, I decided to make a move. I was putting away my stuff into my laptop bag when I was alerted by a fellow Starbucks yuppie (let’s just call him Prick) who had this I-own-the-fucking-place-and-bitch-you-are-on-my-sofa look all over his face.

“Could you hurry up or not?”

He asked me. His tone was commanding, arrogant, in an uncivilised even immoral way.

And I in my glorious stubborn bull headed attitude said;

“No.”

And despite my intention to leave, I calmly switched on my laptop. I called for a staff who is my friend who also happened to be on duty at that time (It pays to know someone in your friendly Starbucks outlet!) and ordered for another hot mocha, with a bag of chips, and heck, another chocolate chip muffin.

“You not leaving ah?”

And again, I in my glorious stubborn bull headed attitude said;

“No. Got problem ah?”

My friend is already standing by beside me, just in case it gets ugly. Annoyed,Prick went back to his place. He literally threw his drink on the table. He was muttering some swear words under his breath, possibly Cantonese, I think broken EEngrishh.

My friend whom I was supposed to meet up with for a movie, came in a few minutes after and asked if I am ready to go. I asked him to sit down and order something. Afterall, the movie is only going to be in an hour’s time.

I know you guys think I was being petty. I knew that there was a possibility of the prick shouting at me because I refused to go. But you know, we sometimes do things in the moment, this is one of my ‘moments’. Besides, he is a rude prick, and rude pricks don’t get my respect and they most definitely don’t deserve it.

I could have given him the space if he was nice, if he smiled, and if he added the word ‘please’ at the end of his request. But he didn’t.

In what world do Sarcy give in to mannerless Pricks eh? Not in this one.

Flash backs

I am satisfied with the way things are going now.

Personally, I consider myself as quite successful. At least, I don’t have 6 kids in tow with a body like a hippo dealing with a cheating husband.

I bumped into an ex classmate while buying break fast at kampong Melayu. She had a booth, selling baju kurungs and stuff. I didn’t realize it was her until she asked me if I am who she thought I was.

It took me quite sometime to recognize her. She has changed so much. She was fleshier, wearing a tudung and a cotton baju kurung, with a baby carrier slung on her. The baby was her youngest of 5 kids. She doesn’t look 28, she looked much more older. She even smells old.

She told me that she has been selling clothes for many years. She got married a year after we finished secondary school, and she apologized for not inviting me because she heard I was in KL studying. I told her we were never that close anyway so I don’t mind.

She filled me in with stories of our other classmates. Most of the girls of class 95/96 seemed to have gotten married or engaged at least. I told her I wouldn’t know because I don’t really keep in touch and to be honest, aside from my best friend who is now an executive with Jport, I don’t know (and actually don’t care but I didn’t tell her that of course) about the other classmates. I don’t like to be reminded of my boarding school years, it was one of the worst times of my life.

She said that I look different, but somehow the same. It turned out that some of the girls bumped into me and actually recognized me but none of them had the guts to say hi. They said, they got intimidated.

*“Yela kan. Tengok la you macam mana, tengokla pulak I ni macam mana.” She said.

I was in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers and polo T-shirt with minimal make up and was wearing my geeky glasses. Man, I must have REALLY looked very intimidating. Or maybe I was less intimidating that day because she had the guts to approach me after all.

We exchanged numbers and I left.

I don’t know if I am supposed to be flattered that I was looked upon as intimidating because I am more successful (Or, kind of successful.) or that I am supposed to be concerned about how intimidatingly arrogant I looked like to other people.

Walking down memory lane is peculiar. It makes you think of weird stuff. Once in a while you bump into bits and pieces of your past, and you feel, heck, it’s worth it, because the past did in some way mould you into the person you are now. Though I would want to go back and change my haircut and trim my out of control brows those days.

On my way home from the bazaar and alone in my car, I figured, heck, I am glad that I turned out to be who I am right now, because it’s exactly how I want my life to be, not perfect but independent. And I don’t have 6 kids in tow with a body like a hippo dealing with a cheating husband.


*I mean, look at how you look, and look at how I look.

BuLaN PuaSa TaG-bet you like it when I type this way eh Naz? Hahaha!

Got tagged by Izham, so here goes, 8 FACTS about Sarcy;

#1 – I am anal

No not that ‘anal’, but the picky, choosy, damn perfectionistic anal.

My clothes must always be washed a certain kind of way, my shoes must always be arranged with the front facing outs, my car must be washed once in a week, and I MUST clear the kitchen counter, wash the pots and pans, clean the stove before I could enjoy my meal and a bunch of other things that MUST be done my frikkin’ way and no other way.

And lint on clothes?? Lint???!

#2 - I hate snakes

Whether it’s in the TV, glass case or right in front of me. I hate them. It grosses me out, and I find they always look so evil. I find the back of the Gen-2 has a striking similarity to the head of a cobra when they stood up, getting ready to attack. That’s why I don’t like Gen-2s.

#3 – I love mornings on weekends

My mornings kicks off early, 6.30 onwards where I jog at the park, usually followed with my solo breakfast trip at my favorite kopitiam, send the car for a wash and surf the net with a nice hot cup of Mocha at Starbucks.

All this of course, not doable in Ramadhan la kan (Duhh!)

#4 – I hate sideparking

Although I tried a lot of times, and am actually quite good at it, I still hate side parking. I would avoid side parking lots like a plague.

#5 – I am prone to being speed trapped

I have been issued 3 summons within the same month. I feel it is unfair that it seemed that everybody else didn’t. Seemed like my Wiwa and the driver attracted the cameras and they have a misconception that I am frikkin’ rich to pay 300 bucks per pop.

#6 – I like it when I forget but other people remembers

Things like the first date, what I wore on that day, what I said, and what I did. I forget simple insignificant things (Afterall, I might be wearing the same outfit for another date, so what la so significant about that?) but I LOVE it when other people remembers and then they ‘merajuk’ because I don’t. I feel so… powerful and mean… I like that feeling.

#7 – I look arrogant

I look like your average bitch next door. Kaypoh aunties loathes me and people don’t usually approach me especially when I am at work. Don’t fret though because everyone who knows me should know that I am really quite the opposite. Can’t do nothing about my face wot?

#8 – I don’t eat durians

Or any of the produce that is. I get intoxicated (not in a good way) by the smell and turned off by the taste. Oh yeah, once upon a time ago I was dragged by a friend to one of the orchards owned by his family, and was chased all over with one.

Now that is just mean!!!
--

And who do I want to tag? C’mon now, my blog could hardly get 50 hits in a day. Maks tak glamer k and dah ngaku pun. Whoever have extra time bulan posa ni do la!

Bugged

The last time I checked, I am single.

At least that’s what I think. When a casual datewhom you went out with once like a month ago actually calls you more than 2 times a day, what do you call that?

I call it loathsome.

Calling me darling is not a good idea too. But being the polite person that I have always been, I entertain anyway, taking care to not exceed the 5 minutes limit talk time. Afterall, there’s not much that I could answer to a question as uninteresting as ‘Dah makan ke belum?’ after break fast.

I have checked and double checked if I have a huge ‘L’ for ‘Loser & Lame’ sign on my forehead. Nope, not there.

I regretted going out on a date with this one. Not only was he totally not my type (About my height, talks about his car and his ‘position’ (Yes position eh.) all the frikkin’ time and use the word gonna and wanna more than anyone should), he speaks English (Grammatically incorrect English) with an accent too. The punchline came when he told me he studied in Australia for a good 5 years, to which I sarcastically responded with, “And that didn’t do you much good did it?”.

And here’s the thing, he didn’t get what I meant! 5 years in Australia ya’ll!

“Mana la kau dapat baluk ni Noks?” (Where do you get this guy babe?) A asked me during our Starbucks after buka trip.

“A friend of a friend. What, you expect him to stroll up to me and impress me with an original pick up line or even a conversation? Unlikely.”

He called me yesterday after break fast. I was at my grandparents’ house and I just let my O2 rip like nobody’s business.

“Kenapa tak angkat phone Kak Sarc?” (Why don’t you pick up your phone?) my cousin asked, I smiled and said I don’t answer work calls on weekends.

I never had work calls. Not one for this whole one year I have been with this company.

To put it in Malay about what I think of the whole situation, ‘Rasanya makan kuih apam free ni lagi bermakna dari cakap dengan orang yang cakap tak tentu hala ni.’ (I’d rather eat this free food than talk with someone who is pointless.)

Ahh Crap, my phone is ringing. *holds breath while checking the number… OH Fucking NO!*

It's a sick SICK world

(Warning-serious post ahead)

The body in the bag news surely rocked many of us.

Just imagining the torture and suffering the little girl must have gone through being an instrument for that sick perverted bastard is enough to make one sick to the stomach. What kind of pleasure could one derive from subjecting a girl to go through all that abject humiliation, only God knows.

And with that, only God could give the fucked up prick what he deserves.

Lifetime imprisonment is NOT enough. Even the death sentence is not sufficient for a payback in return for the amount of pain he had caused the girl and the parents.

He should be strangled, and then resuscitated, and then strangled, and then resuscitated, AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN.

And in Ramadhan, when everybody thought, ‘Syaitan Iblis semua dirantai’, how come one ‘Syaitan’ got loose?

*Author's note; The body was confirmed that of 8 YO Nurin Jazlin today 21/09/07. The body was claimed by her family after Friday prayers. Due to the condition of the body when found, the family did not acknowledge the body as their daughter's yesterday, even though DNA tests confirmed it. Search is still on for the perpetrator.*

Puasa blues

I am writing this not because I actually have something to say, but I am writing this because I need to do something to keep me awake.

One thing about Ramadhan is that you tend to be awake until the wee hours of the night more often than you would like because you have more energy.

For the past few days, my one hour break time was spent sleeping in my car under the shade. The reason being it is impossible for one to take a nap in the noisy call centre.

IMPOSSIBLE… PERIOD.

And now, whenever my friends call me on the phone asking how was my day, my standard answer would be ‘tiring’.

Tak percaya, silalah call saya.

I am yawning as I type, every limbs and ligaments yearning for the time to go faster so the brain would instruct the body to speed off in her car, break fast and just sleep already.

But I know the moment I finished my break fast, sleep would not be in the schedule. I still have my TV, my laundry, my play time with my cats (Lest I want them to ignore me for not being the good lure slave I have always been), my occasional mamak / McD trip with close friends and also of course, my internet.

That effing Yahoo games are so damn addictive.

And then, there is this business about sahur.

I remembered a friend telling me this one fact of what sets apart our (as in Muslims’) fast from any other fasting practice in other religion. The fact is that we are the only ones who would prep for our fast the next day, and so that is why it is important to have Sahur, so we could differentiate ourselves from other religions.

My response to that was indifferent. I mean, it did come from a man who told me that he is horny 24-7 a day. But then, who is a saint anyway right? Let’s drink our bandung soda to that!

Frikkin' Internet and Me

I have been spending too much time on the net.

First it was the annoyingly fun MukaBuku phenomenon. Somehow I get satisfaction from throwing a sheep at MsJ and giving a blow up doll to Des and to also poke KCL so many frikkin’ time that if I do that in person, he would have been poked to death.

Of course, me being a ‘wallflower only’ on Facebook kind of give me a more relaxed mukabuku situation. Having less than 10 people on it saves a lot of time, in terms of figuring out who to pimp slap silly next. Granted, Sarcy don’t have a lot of online friends, I could live with that, just as long as I have more than twenty outside of my virtual life. I am easy to please like that.

And then secondly there is the amount of time spent on the net downloading songs. I am going to get this cool MP3 gadget that will play more songs than I could ever want to hear in my car without the irritating skipped CD thing happening everytime I drive over a hump. Which is cool, and which is something that another fellow blogger told me about. I have never really been into gadgets, I am a simple, uncomplicated, do-not-care-about-gadgetry-thingies- woman. The only gadgets I am into are MP3 players, cellphones and cameras.

I would rather spend the rest of my hard earned (very very hard earned) money on shoes and clothes and all the things that could ‘menambahkan semak’ in my eensy teensy weensy room.

Other than that, are things like boredom and the fact that I would rather stay at home in Ramadhan rather than going out contributes to this trend, although I do have a few Iftar gatherings to attend with different sets of friends, ranging from those who wouldn’t think twice about paying RM 40 for a buffet spread at hotels even though they only consume around 0.05% of the food to friends who would find even Secret Recipe a bit too much for buka puasa. It's all in good intention, at least I think so anyway.

Well, at least, now I finally feel that the RM 77 I am paying every month is worth it.

Life starts at 30

A friend who celebrated her 30th birthday last year told me that her life is coming together, at last.

She met the love of her life a few weeks after her birthday, an Ang-moh working for an O&G company. She got a huge promotion and she has got a bun in the oven. The love of her life proposed to her upon knowing about the pregnancy, which she held from him for a week because she thought he would bolt.

Turned out, he was ecstatic, and they are getting married in Phuket end of this year.

I am not that close to her, but we share the same complaints about men and life and such. We corresponded over the email and she invited me to her small wedding.

Less than 200 people, close friends and family, only people who really matter, no ‘tiga pupus’ and such, she added during our internet call.

I am honored that she looked at me as a close friend, although the only thing I have given to her was a Raya Card last year and also considering that I met her last in July 2005.

Life indeed starts at 30, babe. Don’t fret. She told me.

Then, we launched into girly talks on how the wedding gown would be like and such. She said she would have been about 4 months pregnant by then, so her dress will definitely have to conceal the bump.

She asked me about how I am doing, and I said I am still single, and that is ok, I answered.

“When I was your age, I was a mess. Work was frustrating as I was making less than what I deserved and my personal life, it was abusive, that’s the only thing I know how to describe it. I think you have it better.”

I smiled. Maybe so. I don’t exactly know if I either like / dislike being single. I like my privacy but at the same time, I hate being alone. So it’s extremely oxymoronic to me.

I told her about my plans of moving out next year, my excitement of having to struggle by myself after 5 years of staying with my parents, and the prospect of change that it will bring, hopefully. I am crossing my fingers on both. I’ll live life as it comes.

She told me that I am heading there. Life WILL get better and I WILL see things clearer.

I can’t wait, afterall, life, it seemed now, does start at 30.

Maya, Love you babe!

The writer's block Blog

I was alone last Ramadhan, and I am still alone this year.

So much for change, heh.

I am maybe a rebel that has swayed off the whole religion carpet, but heck, as far as fasting is concerned, this one I could do, much better than those so called devoted ones who get oh so excited when they get their menses.

For real.

I could still remember the housemate who yelled in all happiness just because she found out that she just had her menses.

“Aku boleh makan, jangan marah.”

Uh… and she is the one wearing the tudung here acting all goodie two crappy shoes. Heh, like, a joke right?

And then came Terawih, I mean, never mind that I feel so awkward being among the telekung clad women, but weirdly I think I should do it at least once in the whole month, just to kick things off by shocking people that I do know the how to-s of ablution. Heh.

Not to forget the Bazaar Ramadhan mushrooming on every space available in Malaysia. Due to the recent price war between consumers and chicken wholesalers, I am just hoping that I would be able to have my ayam percik and eat it too, without being judged on my level of consumer awareness.

Nevertheless, I like fasting, it’s detox with a dash of spiritual benefits fused together. My one wish is to able to have a full fast, all 30 days of it, but being the ‘bleeding one’, that I’ll have to pass.

So, Selamat Berpuasa all.

--

Funny things I have been thinking about the past few days.

I don’t like the fact that I am still fraternizing with my exes sometimes. They tend to make me feel important and insignificant at times. Especially when they told me that somehow, they could talk to me like they never could with anyone else, and I would think, if that’s a fact, then why are we exes?

All the time, I would pretend as if I don’t care, but only when I am alone (And hell I hate being alone for this one stupid reason) will I think about how my exes just manage to be fools and bastards effortlessly.

*Throws a wanker*

--

Vibrating condom, spotted that at a Shell kiosk when I dropped off my Merdeka lucky draw forms (In hope of winning at least RM 5000, what? One could wish right?).

I really want to know how that works. If only the kid at the counter was not smiling at me when I spotted it.

It was in a pink box too.

Hobi saya ialah…

When I was a kid, my hobbies were many.

I mean, which kid would not be tempted to collect stamps and even HotWheels when everybody else in the school was doing the same? Peer pressure was massive.

I remembered when a classmate brought her stamp books and bragged about it. It was THE in thing circa 1987. I was so impressed by her perfect rows of stamps from countries, some at that time, I have never even known existed.

Although I was also an avid collecter at that time, all I had were stamps from Malaysia, Singapore and Belgium and even that was because I have pen – pals (Yes… I did have pen-pals, paid bloody twenty bucks for it too! (and that only after I rolled on the floor asking my parents for the money).

“Korang tak ada kan setem – setem cam ni? Saya punya Ayah selalu pergi England. Dia kata sana sejuk.”

And I would be listening to her stories intently, wowed by her show of affluence. I also envied the girl whose Mum would be waiting for her at the gate after school everyday in her then trendy Proton Saga aeroback. Back then, anyone who has more than one car in a household was ‘kaya’. And her dad, was the ‘Kaya’ sort. And heck, at least she didn’t have to squeeze through smelly kids in the school bus.

Anyway, back to hobbies.

My hobbies when I was a kid were many. I collected stamps, stickers, paper dolls, books, comics and even started my very own dried leaf collection using my used up exercise books. I also remembered there was also a time when every kid in school were totally psyched over the feather phenomenon (we put a feather in our textbooks and ‘fed’ it wooden pencil shavings. Back then you will have to be ‘kaya’ to have a mechanical pencil.). Everyone who was anyone dabbled in it.

Besides being a collector, I was also the artistically inclined one in the family. I write short stories, I drew sketches and I rolled on the floor again begging my parents to buy me a set of Buncho crayons for my ‘Masterpieces’.

Now, at the age of 28, and personally, in a way, ‘kaya’, I lost touch with my wanting to have a hobby. I still write, not short stories but I write, and sometimes, I sketched on my A5 size pads which I brought with me everywhere I go. At the moment, I am in search for a ballroom dance class. Found one in Senai near my workplace but my ‘partner’ thinks it is too far.

It’s a hobby I am looking for, and I think, Salsa should be good for the soul, and so should Tango.

Now, will someone please tell me why are all these websites in Chinese? What now, Malays can’t do Rhumba izzit!!?

Twisties with his idea of a hobby, tackling lures.

Hek Eleh!

I wear bikinis. Is that too hard to believe that I do just because I am half Malay?

I find forwarded emails on certain local Malay celebrities frolicking on the beach in their bikinis amusing and most definitely… umm… well… what’s the word, stupid.

Why be judgmental on things like that? But then again, this is Malaysia, and in Malaysia, judgmental is only but a Malaysian behavior. Instead of thinking about more serious matters at hand like having to pay bloody income tax but to still drive on bad roads and having blackouts every 2 days (Yeah it has been that often) we are concerned about public figures wearing floral two piece showing their buff bodies on the beach.

Like… come on, talk about trivial.

I also don’t like receiving all the Halal and Non – Halal emails. I have to admit, I am not particular about this, and heck, more power to all those who really takes care of what goes into their mouths, but I would prefer them to just keep forwarding those emails to like minded individuals and not me. I would delete it just after reading the subject header.

Speaking about being judgmental and such, one misconception that others have on me would be that I don’t read Malay literatures. This might surprise some, but as a matter of fact I do. I adore A. Samad Said, and the very controversial Shahnon Ahmad, Adibah Amin, and the delectable fusion of east and west in Zakaria Ali’s works. Don’t know them? Then you don’t know what you are missing.

So with everything laid out in the open, let’s make a deal, no forwarded emails on celebrities baring their abs on beaches and how Starbucks is not Halal cause I don’t frikkin’ care.

You dig?

If banyak sangat cekadak, go here - la.

BLEEETING HELL?!

I am a Baaaaaaad meat eating, intestine chewing sheep ya'll!

Who would find a movie with a flock of angry zombified sheeps scary?

Yeah, that, I would credit to Anna.

And this is my review.

We went on a Saturday. Anna called me and told me about this movie called Black Sheep (2007 film).

“Cerita hapa tuh la kiah?”

“Cerita pasal Kambing biri-biri jadi zombie. My friends said they have watched it and I read the preview.”

“Umm… okay… so what did it say?”

“The preview sounds like a thriller, but then my friends told me about the movie as if it’s a comedy.”

You see, Anna avoids horror flicks like a plague. She finds Supernatural (The Tv series la) scary, and when I asked her along for the ultimate scare fest of Alone (a Thai Movie), she said eh? No thank you, you don’t know me better?

I don’t get what about zombie sheeps that scares the crap out of anyone. Until I read an introduction of the movie on the web.

It is supposed to be a black comedy. And there I was thinking that seriously, is this what New Zealanders sought out as horror? Like seriously?

The story revolves around a man who suffers from acute phobia of sheeps, a scary housekeeper, a psychotic sheep shagger brother, a jolly farm manager and two seriously OTT environmentalist and of course, a flock of sheeps who would later be infected by a failed genetic experiment.

While sheeps that got bitten would be turned to meat craving herbivors (Eh...), humans on the other hand would turn into were-sheeps.

Yup… were-sheeps. I am not talking lambchop kind of sheep, just really butt ugly walking upright sheep wearing one size fits all ugly ass vest.

And they are angry, and not vegan.

The whole plot is predictable (HELLO!! ZOMBIE SHEEPS? What other plot could there be?). There were some scenes where I was the only one who got the humor (Of course all the other people in the theatre thought it was a real horror movie la kan.).

And mint sauce that go acid when thrown to the were-sheeps… PRICELESS.

So if you guys fancy a gore fest with a truckful of dark humor, and bits of bestiality action, go catch this one.

Just don’t expect to be horrified because you will be disappointed.

There’s more to Sarcy than just the palm ... really

(Be forewarned, on a scale of 1-10, this post is 5 on being emo…)

Someone once read my palm many years ago. The one thing that I could remember the most was when he said that help will always be around as and when I happened to be in a fix. True enough, I always get help when I am broke, always get company when I am depressed, always get my dose when I am sexually… umm… needy.(?)

Though, love wise, he said it was vague, he also said that he could be wrong. I am attractive, and smart, he said, smiling. There’s no reason why anyone should walk the streets without noticing me. This I shrugged off as a joke. I am not pretty, I am just enigmatic, a piece of meat that a man would love to sink their teeth in, because basically, if they could not get into my head, better get into my pants.

The someone also told me that palms don’t tell you everything, and even if it does, it is not necessary to believe in.

A friend of mine, was told once by her ex who also happened to read palms, that she would bring bad luck to whoever she goes out with, romantically. The dude was later charged as being an accomplice in a somewhat major murder case (the charges were dropped, no contest, inadequate proof) and her latest squeeze got into an accident, though the squeeze was not what I would personally call as a relationship.

She told me later that her ex shouldn’t tell her this, because now, she believes that she is a jinx.

Belief trumps rationale. True.

All these prophecies, some took as a foundation to living their life, to which I said hell no.

To me my life should not be determined by the lines on my left palm, or the number of moles I have on my back (Chinese believe the more moles you have on your back, hardships will throng you throughout your lifetime.). Life is what you make out of it. And then there is also a matter of fate. No matter how your life sucks, even after so many attempts to make it right, accept it. it’s fate.

But this doesn't mean that you could not make it better. There's nothing wrong with trying, agreed?

So that’s why I have, so many times, when I lie next to a person whom I care so much for, I accepted the fact that I could not be with him. I am contented with that little piece of heaven of me being with him at that moment.