A friend in need is a friend indeed...

Recently, over YM, I told Sheryl that I was having a small makan – makan raya gathering for my friends. I also told her that I don’t have lots of close friends in JB, no thanks to my 6 years or so in KL before this.

The thing with me and friends is that while I have a lot of people who said they know me, few of them could claim on being my friend. I have to admit, I pick my friends like I pick my fruits. And I am very particular about my fruits. I don’t want to eat any that will give me food poisoning the next day wot? I also have no qualms whatsoever about dropping those who I don’t think deserve my friendship, just like the way I dump ‘buah – buahan busuk’ into the dustbin.

I have a lot of experience with so called friends who were backstabbers in disguise. At the age of 28, I thought I have done well enough to avoid potential excremental holes. But I am only human, so I have been proved wrong time and time again.

I also learnt an important lesson. I know a certain guy who hurt me, twice but he will not abandon me as a friend, he will stick by my side through everything and he will not backstab me. I feel indebted to him, although sometimes he does gets in my nerves.

I don’t collect friends like I collect namecards. As a matter of fact, friends are more like going into a discount stores like Ban Thye and finding out that you could get a cardigan that looked like some designer label stuff at a much much (Try very much)lower price. Often, these things you get for less than RM 100 will be your most prized possession. And often, it’s very unexpected that you will get something decent from a store that is full of Nyonyas and Makciks who decided to browse around carrying plastics of fish and other wet market items.

The rule of thumb is that a friend must know how to appreciate you so much so that you will in turn appreciate them for being around. Not anyone who will turn their backs on you in times of adversity and then bitch behind your back to other people.

I have to admit, being that I am aloof in nature, I tend to miss birthdays, take my friends for granted and sometimes I would not call a few of them for ages. The thing is, I am getting so comfortable being on my own, that I forget my friends, my real friends, ones that would listen to my whining and stuff, and the ones whom I wouldn’t mind lending my shoulder to.

So the small makan-makan raya gathering was my way to make up for it. I sent invitations via email and SMS. It was just a simple do, quite impromptu and I have wanted to only include close friends, friends who know me. Most of them came from my ex workplace, my ex boss and one of my booze partner (The other one couldn’t make it) We got together, talked like old times, eat and be merry while watching The Ring Two on CINEMAX. My ex-boss was terrified and the kids, well, they were more fascinated, I thought than scared.

After this, will be the numerous open houses I have to attend. More food, more bloating and more mingling.

Who says keeping a friend or being a friend is easy now?

Mind Blocks

I can’t figure out a few things for the last few weeks.

Number 1; I don’t get what is so great about the first ‘Angkasawan to be in space’. So the dude got into a space suit, float around in a space shuttle and had ketupat rendang in space, someone please tell me what is so significant about that? The Chinese just launched a rocket on China’s soil on their own effort, now THAT is something to be proud of. They maybe learnt it from the Russians or even the Americans, but at least they launched their own space probe.

And we have to sit back, watch the government spend millions of OUR money not to get a piece of the technology but to send some guy to space. Recently, a certain satellite TV station even offered an autographed electric guitar signed by the two ‘Angkasawans’, knowing that they could not play a decent tune on it for squat. I mean, like showing off a guitar signed by George Benson is another thing altogether, but by some dude who went to the moon? Not as if they played the frikkin’ guitar in space!

I mean, How do you even supposed to awe people with it if you win it?

Dude 1: Yo. I won this guitar from this contest I joined. Like it is signed man.

Dude 2 : Cool. By who man? Richie Sambora, Marilyn Manson?

Dude 1 : Naw man! by the first Angkasawan man...

Dude 2 : ...

Dude 1 : Umm, you know I think the pick is made of of the Coke can they had in the frikkin shuttle dude...

Dude 2 : Like Whoa man!(On the pick that was believed to have made from a Coke can in space.)

Question to the executives over at the Satellite TV station, wouldn't a high powered telescope worth RM 10 000 as a price and a contest aired on Discovery Channel make more sense?

Number 2; I have been in the company that I am presently attached to for a year and a half, but I have yet to accustom myself to the whole company culture.

The thing about my previous high profiled job was that I worked with a bunch of people who, although complained about a lot of things, they just know how to have a good time. We were close knitted colleagues, who even went out during weekends, go to hang out at each other’s houses and cook good food (whenever we feel like it-la. On my side, it would usually be a treat at the Mamak shop having biryani on payday. Me cook? Maybe when I get married I’ll be like Cookie @ Juan and see the kitchen as my therapy chamber.)

I know everybody from the people in Administration, all the dudes in maintenance and even the hotel people, and when we get together, all hell broke loose. One thing about us PR people is that we can talk… and we WILL talk.

But here? I don’t know. It seemed that this job has totally put a damper on my communication skills. The people here are always so… formal. I wished Anna is still the manager, at least she knows how to be one. I actually took MCs eversince I joint this company. I am swallowing vitamin pills to keep myself healthy! I didn’t do that in the old company. The reason being that the adrenaline rush then keeps me going and I rarely get the sniffles.

And I honestly do not know why is it that I feel this way. I am pretty adaptable. I could adapt given any kind of situation or environment. I am a corporate chameleon, serious in meetings, get things done and when it’s time to let my hair down, I do.

But… Sigh.

I am right now, working hard to just focus on my work, deliver the best I could. This is only because I am very hopeful to go back to College for another degree, and this job is the kind where I don’t have to be on call on weekends.

Wish me luck eh?

Number 3; My Dad is against hanging decorative mirrors in the living room.

The thing is we are moving in a couple of months to a bigger house and I wanted to decorate it my way, which is okay by them except for the mirror part.

I have a bit of flair in decorating, so I know a beautiful mirror gives the oomph factor in a room.

But my Dad said no, not mirrors.

When asked why, he said that it was because when he was growing up, people in the ‘kampung’ rarely hang mirrors in the house. Apparently, the people back then believe that mirrors will crack and fall off the wall during a thunderstorm.

How it works is like this. Mirrors attract lightning and that’s why houses must never hang mirrors, lest they want it to be struck.

“Yeah… but most houses now do have lightning conductor cables I think, if technology hasn’t better that concept yet.”

It wasn’t me alone that gave him the ‘Duh’ look when he told us about the whole mirror – lightning factor. There was my sister and my brother.

“Final say, aye to mirrors.”

3 against two. Barely but we won.

“You guys better cover them mirrors with cloth everytime it rains.” He went.

Umm… okay then. Still not getting it.

A minute to ponder…

Do you write for yourself or for others?

I write for myself, at least that is what I think. I don’t bother to pacify my readers and give them politically correct facts of life. I guess that would be the last thing the readers of this blog would expect from Sarcy.

Hate mails are a norm, rude comments, I delete them and they have no subsequent effect on me whatsofrikkinever.

Shit happens, and I am going to talk about it. Malays are pretentious, and I am not going to say otherwise, I am broke, heck, I know there’s no good in lying about that and I have a boring life, and that’s okay.

So as long as I could be true to myself and have no need in making other people happy through whatever crap I write here in this site (Plus the all time low number of hits (like I care.)), safe to say that I do write for myself.

Another thing is that I can’t possibly blame myself for being an exhibitionist wot?

Two of my favorite bloggers hung up their keyboards. It’s a shame really, as I have been an avid reader of theirs for the past couple of years. Now to find others who would be worthy of their spot.

MsJ and Pugs, uish… it’s a lost to not being able to read your ramblings anymore. But hey, here crossing my fingers that you will be back?

As for me, as long as I still think I am writing for myself, and not for others, I will be here.

--
A letter to the heartbroken…

Dear D,

I know it’s been hard, I know it’s been … what’s the word… rough.

I am not going to say that he doesn’t deserve you, because I am not so good in judging whether anyone is good or bad for other people.

I am not going to say that everything is going to be fine because the truth is sometime along the path of ‘recovery’ (I know, it’s that clichéd.) you are not going to be fine. You are going to fall into the deepest of depression and might even contemplate on taking up some job offers with no prospect of advancement or even a good pay roll to go with it. The temptation of giving up on life and to waste your time and your life with Alcohol and drugs would be so strong that you might even do it. I did it and it was not a good action plan.

However, I am going to say this.

LIFE MOVES ON.

And if it’s going to move, might as well make the best of it. Shit happens, lovers come and go. In the end, all you have is your pride, hurt but that’s not going to be for long.

Bear that in mind and you will be ok. I promise.

Last but not least;

Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.’

(Albert Schweitzer – 1875 – 1965)

Raya post round two

Raya was the same like every other Raya.

There was the chaos on the eve of Raya. My mum was busy in the kitchen preparing the ingredients for the Laksa Johor we planned to make the next day, my sister was helping her out, my brother helped filling up cookies in the containers and I went around doing all kinds of things that men should be doing, like fixing the shoe rack, the Raya lights, the curtains, you name them, I did them.

And the other thing is that I am still single, and so I got myself ready with one liners that I could use on the aunties who would be asking me all kinds of ‘marriage related’ questions.

I did my last minute shopping, queuing up for parking space at the dreaded Angsana Plaza, fighting with fat aunties for the perfect tissue box cover.

And I found my second Raya outfit, after I was broken hearted because my first choice was snapped up. A white chiffon number, with gold flower prints.

Raya was the same like every other Raya.

Ketupat, rendang, perasak (For the uninitiated, it is glutinous rice filled with beans and what nots wrapped in daun palas and boiled. Something like lepat but savoury), sayur lodeh, kuah kacang, ayam kicap, serunding daging, lemang and laksa Johor was served on the table at my Atok’s house.

As usual, me and my siblings ask for forgiveness from our parents before driving off to my atok’s house that morning. Sarcy don’t have a kampong as in the true kampong sense. My kampong is in the middle of the town and took less than 10 minutes drive (With my Barrichello style of driving, might even be 5 minutes).

Stopped at a kiosk to fill up the tank before that. The worker, a Bangladeshi, wished me Selamat Hari Raya and strike a conversation while filling up. He was working full shift for that day and the day after.

“Saya dapat sembahyang Alhamdulillah. Kerja halal hari raya dapat duit cukup juga.”

Asked if he has already called home to wish everyone, he nodded and I saw a tinge of sadness in his eyes. To say that I understand was an understatement, because as much as I would claim that I did, I couldn’t really.

Anyway,

Strangely, my grandma cried when it was my turn to ‘salam’ her. Alahai, tak taulah apahal, dengan orang lain steady je, dengan den dah melimpah ruah la pulak. Empangan pocah, my atok said.

“Agaknya sebab nenek sedih ko tak kawin – kawin lagi tak? Boifren pun tak bawak balik umah lagi.” My cousin said.

Rasa like nak hempuk pon ado.

“Aku busy la. Takde masa nak layan jantan-jantan tak guna ni. Semua emo tak tentu hala, takdo kojo eh.”

‘kumpul harta’, that was what I told everyone who asked me the ‘soalan cepu emas tahap dewa’. I don’t need to be dependent on anyone to make my life works wot?

By 5 pm, I broke down. Enjin habis pelincir, and I slept in the living room with my Mom, bro and sister.

So much for ghayo sakan. Ponat sakan ado ah.

Raya was the same like every other Raya.

TV was chocful of melancholic and sad stuff. I have to admit, some of them are really good, some are just too obviously cashing in on Hari Raya. And what’s with the AF reunion bullshit thronging Astro? Like WTF? But I enjoyed watching some of the Malay movies on Astro Ria like Baik Punya Cilok, Gubra and Sepet. Mukhsin was disappointing. And the P. Ramlee daily dose. He still rawks.

Raya was the same like every other Raya.

Still OD-ing on Sirap, gassy drinks and kuih bangkit, here are some I took during Raya.

Me and my Siblings

My cousins with their duit raya



The only princess in the family

My brother and the Princess' brother Idir

The Heroes of the family

Second day of Raya at another relative's house. My Mum with one of my Dad's cousin's daughter

The Pretend Couple Trouble

For some reason, I have always wanted to blog about this for the last few days but I was like not inspired to.

Remember *Fahrin, (Still bukan nama sebenar) with whom I went out with to a family gathering of his before Ramadhan? He met up with me (With a purpose la) a couple of weeks ago. This time, he wants to drag me to a buka puasa thingie with the rest of his cousins from KL who was in JB during the weekend.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because everyone was talking about you and me already.”

“See-la, I told you something like this would happen.” I said as I gave him a killer glare.

I said no to the invitation. This scam has to stop. He will have to go alone, which he did. He gave an excuse that I was unavailable.

As if it’s like some sort of a sick twist of fate, I bumped into his mother at the Ramadhan Bazaar in UDA. What else am I supposed to do but to smile and salam, cium & peluk.

“I have been asking Fahrin about you. Are you coming over for Buka puasa with us soon? Puasa is almost over.”

(*dalam hati, dammit Fahrin!)

“Fahrin did tell me about that. Just that I have been busy with family for the raya preparation. Keje pun banyak makcik.”

“Cuba la ye. Makcik masak lebih sikit ye? Okayla, I have to go first. Take care.”

Salam, cium & peluk again as usual.

Today is already the last day of Puasa, and I didn’t ‘Buka Puasa’ with Fahrin’s family. But I did call his mother yesterday, and apologized, profusely for my not being able to ‘make an appearance’.

“Nanti pagi raya A** hantar lauk ghaya ye Auntie? Kampung saya dekat je. Raya ni keluarga masak Laksa Johor je.”

“Ah boleh la tu. Auntie pun tak masak anything special. Ketupat, rendang dengan lauk raya biasa je. A** masak ke?”

“Hehe taklah. Saya tak pandai masak sangat.”

“Lama-lama pandai la nanti.”

Bla..bla..bla… the telephone call lasted about 10 minutes.

Now, I think I have made a BIG mistake of making her liking me more. Sarcy have the tendency to go on and on without thinking of the consequences of her action sometimes.

Help!

Raya post round one

Earlier tonight, I went to a mall in search for a set of Raya curtains for the house. A shirt caught my Dad’s eye and while waiting for the correct size, I stood at the men’s section trying to not yawn for the 100th time.

And then came this boy of about 4 years old. He was in his baju melayu, had a bit of chocolate stains on his cheeks and was bopping towards me. He stopped in front of me and looked up, and smiled.

And erk… I smiled back, I mean courtesy is not always between adults eh?

The boy then walked a few steps back and disappeared behind an offer bin, not until he dashed out again after a few seconds and hid back again.

By then, it became obvious that he wanted me to be his playmate.

I didn’t go to the extent of hiding behind an offer bin and dash out like him. I don’t want to scare some unsuspecting shopper and be escorted out of the premises, but I made little gestures of being surprised.

I enjoyed the game, he did too, until he was picked up by his Dad who profusely apologized for his son’s behavior. What if I told the parents that it was his genuine show of interest that made my whole day a lot more better?
--

Raya is a lot of work.

I realized that once I stopped being a student and started becoming an adult, with responsibilities and all that jazz.

Sometimes I really just don’t get it. Why couldn’t we just buy new drapes whenever we want to and not wait until a specific occasion? Or why couldn’t I just buy Baju Kurungs when they don’t mark up the price like crazy?

I and my family spent the whole weekend going out to malls getting last minute stuff. Table cloth, matching cushions for the Brown and Burgundy theme I have set up specifically for this year’s Eid, scarves for our outfits, expensive bamboo woven mats, etc.

The strangest thing is, I have yet to find my second Raya outfit but I have already bought my third Raya shoes.

Sometimes humans just behave in strange ways. It’s the same with any other celebrations. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s.

Why can’t we just do the things that we do on these days on every other day?

But, there is one thing that I am glad we only have to give out once in a year, and that is Raya money. With more than 20 little cousins waiting on tow with their smiley faces and big Raya packet pockets, we could not possibly do ‘that’ any other day without an occasion. Akak ‘po the kai’ nanti gitew.

Teng... Teng... Teng... another bunny boiler bites the dust

Foreword ; Akak Pro, and akak tak petty, and I think petty issues at work are so yesterday. So I deleted the previous whining post and decided to write better posts, lighthearted ones.

I do have class, mind you.

I had a conversation with one of my guy friends, Joe (Bukan Nama Sebenar) yesterday over the phone. He had recently turned single and is now enjoying his quiet time alone. His ex was one who could have hailed from hell, if it’s not for the fact that she wore a tudung and looked like a full fledged human being.

When they were together, I would hear many stories about the nightmarish behavior of the ex. I have never met her, I guess all the stories about her kind of put me off. From public fights to getting physical, and I am not even talking about sex here! Joe broke up with her face to face at her house. She chased him out, swore and called him a ‘time wasting bastard’. She also told him to ‘go home and fuck the bloody whore in the car’ who happened to be my friend who have said yes when he asked her to accompany him.

She (my friend) was spooked by the whole thing. She even swore to me that it was totally unexpected because you just don’t see it coming from the 5 ft petite girl who looked like she had a good up bringing.

“I mean like, we wear bikinis and do bad stuff but babe, I have never heard anything more worst than those words that she shouted at us that night. All of the sudden, I am Joe’s whore lah!”

This is truly a case of the clothes definitely does not make the man. In this case, woman.

I have been told that I swear a lot. But I rarely used anything beyond fuck, bitch or bastard. I lay off swearing in Malay because I can’t help feeling dirty (not in a good way) everytime I did. Words like Puki kote and everything on the same level (Cringing as I type here) just do not sound acceptable to me.

So lil’ miss Joey’s ex here is waaay out of line.

“The last straw was when she pulled up in the middle of the road right after we went over a bumper and the car behind us was like meters away from us. She was punching me in the face, cars were honking and you could see that people were looking at us. I got out of the car, she was shouting at me, I showed her the finger and took a cab home. I have just got back from London babe. That was it. I don’t think about her anymore. The next day, I broke up with her. Even seconds after that, I felt as if all burden have been lifted off my shoulders. She is the one person I hoped to have never met. But I must have for a reason.”

They were together for a year. I rarely got to see him during that period. What I heard from his mates was that the ‘horrific lady’ didn’t like us, his buddies of 5 years much. To avoid problems, he went along her way. I guess love could make you do funny stuff, I could relate to that. She especially had a problem with his girl mates. She checked his cellphone for messages from or to any other girl that was not her and screen his emails.

“Hey, for once I thought, I felt as if I mattered.”

Heck Joe, if someone throws you a chicken on Facebook, you would think you mattered too wouldn’t you.

Well, you are single now Joe, and if that means you can now hang out with us, heck, it will be all that matters. Cheers to that.