Thursday, June 28, 2007


I had to let go of my CLK. It was a sad moment.

But it was only for about 2 seconds.

After that the smell of new upholstery overwhelmed me… and that was priceless!

I christen my mode of transportation and my latest baby, Wiwa.

She’s a sexy deep red (Squash the black, this one’s better), has pimp my ride sort of rims and is smokin’ on the road.

All of the sudden I have more space, I can put up my leg on the driver’s seat while driving and I don’t hear any creaking sound whenever Wiwa went over a bump (There are many many bumps in UDA).

This morning, CLK was looking at me and told herself, habis madu sepah dibuang. And I found myself explaining my situation to her, which was weird la kan.

No pictures yet because the car still shy.

The bertunang pictures, my streamyx connection still fucks big time. so I gave up on even trying.

Kak Intan,

Nyah, I’ve been sick, so no ilham to write… but I promise you I will do it soon!

Monday, June 25, 2007


This happened during the weekend...

Haha… freaked you out eh? It was not my ceremony. It was my cousin’s engagement function.

It was all dandy and all and I arrived at my cousin’s house an hour earlier as we were supposed to convoy out from his place to the bride’s home in Tmn. Molek. I was not driving so I had not many obligations for that day.

Until, my Auntie asked me to be the official photographer for the day. Then I went eh?

You see, for my last cousin’s engagement, I offered myself to be her photographer, seeing that I, most of the time, whenever I could, take good pictures. So, naturally, the person who carries the digital camera to almost everywhere she goes should shoot for the day.

How can I refuse? My hectic schedule lately had prevented me from gallivanting outdoors in search of interesting objects and events to shoot, so I gladly took on the responsibility.

Of course, I got at least 10 people asking me “Ko pulak bila laie A**? Yang lain semua dah buat dah?”

Oii… making a decision on who to wake up next to for the next eternity is like eating Kuih Apam free is it?

Straying away from the ‘soklan cepu emas’, I observed that when a single buffet line is set up for about 50 starving women and to about the same number of equally starving men separately, women takes to it like chicken at breakfast whilst men prefer to take their own sweet time like cows chewing grass on a field.

By the way, I never got to taste the ‘bubur pulut hitam’ which happened to be one of my favorite traditional dessert. I literally had to fight off a makcik in front of me for a piece of chicken and I was functioning as the chicken vending machine to my Mum and my Aunties who was lining up behind me because they were not able to reach the chicken tray.

We were horrified as our family culture had always been to serve the guests personally rather than setting up a buffet table. But they said ‘sekarang moden apa. Dah tak main dah hidang – hidang ni.’

Anyways, it was fun when a kid said ‘Tepilah! Auntie Amik Gambo nak lalu.’

Anyhow… that’s akak and not auntie to you eh squirt.

Waiting for the green light to enter the foyer. The ceremony was held at the foyer of the flat unit. It was said that people from two blocks came. No wonder belah lelaki (the groom's side) had to scramble for food

The elders looking at the Hantaran. One of them was sleeping

Presenting the Engagement ring and the token gold ring and bracelet to the father of the bride
Actually I intended to post more pictures but it was raining and I got sleepy... so I will 'sambung' tonight.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Mocha High

Last weekend, I went about doing my usual business and habits.

Breakfast at Hua Mui around 9.30 am, a short stop at Telekom to ask about my pretty fucked up Streamyx connection. (Dude, I pay 77 bucks a month and I expect it like broadband and not narrow ok?), sent my CLK for her weekly wash and while I wait for them to spray my cutie clean, I went to Giant nearby and bought some things for my bathroom and car. After that I drove to City Square in town, bought a couple of books (a Lahiri and a Pratchett) and went to Starbucks where I parked on the sofa alone, finished my read on a book I bought last two weeks before I started on the ones I bought that day.

One thing though… the price of local books have shot up to 30-39 per pop. International authors are priced at about 40 bucks and above. So much for nurturing intelligentsias.

It was still early and the café was not littered with posers who drink there just for the sake of showing off their fancy whipped cream topped drinks yet, so it was a quiet, and enjoyable read and that doubled with the strong Mocha I ordered, it was that sanctuary I yearn for after a hard week at work.

In came this couple, who was all over each other. It was the ultimate PDA, the girl had an arm over the guy’s shoulders, their mouth were inches away from kissing and the guy’s hand was on the girl’s lap.

The girl was wearing a micro mini.

Distracting aren’t they?

The voice came from behind me. I turned around and found out that he was a tall Gwai – lo, dark hair, pink lips and was typing something on the laptop. I smiled and he waved at me.

A bit. Not completely. I said, assuming my original position on the sofa, holding up the book that I was reading.

Welll, maybe they have a lot to talk about TO each other and it’s not necessarily conveyed with words you see?

Yeah. I guess so. I replied, not looking at him.

I was actually thinking that you might not respond to that.

Why is that, mister…

Name’s William. You can me Will, Miss…


If you allow me to, can I go over and shake your hand, Sarcy?

The day was going to be long, and I could use the company. Besides, he deserved some credit for being original and bold to address a stranger in an overpriced coffee joint. So we shook hands and he sat in front of me.

He has green eyes.

Why was that? I asked.

He smiled.

Most women will think that I was trying to pick them up and would walk away or keep quiet. Sometimes, it’s nice to talk to a total stranger. It’s an expat thing.

I am in a good mood , so I respond.

Aah, a Saturday thing? He asked. I smiled at him.

I found out later that he is attached with a consultancy company and will be stationed in JB for a few months before returning back to KL. According to him, Johoreans are a whole lot different than KL – lites.

KL-lites, is that what you call ‘em?

I nodded.

Kl – lites tend to try harder at impressing the foreigners. Johoreans just don’t give a frikkin damn about em’, he said.

Yeah, they come and they go, I added.

We hung out together for 2 hours at Starbucks, exchanged phone numbers and we parted ways after that.

It was a nice Saturday, I gathered, not only because I met and talked to an American who knows that Malaysians are not referred to as Malays like how Chinese are to China but also because I have managed to make another friend (well I hope he could be one!--> a friend I meant.)

It pays to fork out 11 buckaroos for a tall Mocha afterall…

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Friday Blabbers…

Nostalgia pagi Jum’at

I was updating my PDA phone book (Yes… my PDA yang keep on ‘mati-ing’ on me nowadays.. seriously need to buy a new one, but moollaah tak ada.) and made a few calls to get rid of those numbers no longer in use.

I called a lot of my press friends, got sworn on because I have not been keeping in touch, I gave them lame excuses of how my new job is not giving me that luxury anymore and that I have ... well… kind of … changed somewhat.

“No more booze? Waaahh… tobat eh?”

Ceh. Just because I don’t drink that often doesn’t mean I have repented.

It was nice though to chat with them. They made me reminisce on those high profiled good ol’ days. Rushing out invitations, dress shopping for dinner functions, rubbing shoulders with the State Secretary and one particular performance on stage with one of the press members singing ‘Can’t take my eyes off you’.

It was fun, it occupied me and I didn’t think of anything BUT work those days.

Some of the numbers however, I decided to erase off without calling. Those numbers are numbers I never want to remember.

Ever noticed that we tend to associate the deletion of a particular phone number to erasing that person completely out of our memories when it doesn’t work that way?

Ahhhh…. Pardon my nostalgic mood today eh… Friday maa…

Sarcy’s a package

A girlfriend of mine asked me out for Mocha yesterday. I said yes and she picked me up from my house and we went all the way to Starbucks in Jusco Tebrau for our fix.

I have recently went on a date with someone who was introduced by her (Let’s just call her M) and after exchanging some jaw dropping gosses on our other friends, she asked me if the guy called me at all after the date.

The guy, D did call me. He called me right after he dropped me off at home after the date that day. He thanked me for an insightful night and he bid me good night. To me, it was a courtesy call.

“He likes you. He called me before he went back to KL and said that he had a wonderful time with you. He said, you are a package… hehehe…”

M looked like one of those smileys on YM when she does that. The one with the wide grin, this one --> :D.

“So I Fed Ex ke. DHL ke, UPS? You nak courier me to where?” I joked.

D reminded me a lot of the men I was with, physically, he reminds me of Trey. He was 5ft8, with wavy hair, arched brows, light brown eyes and pink lips. He told me his mother is Irish and his father is from Penang. That further reminds me of Trey.

The way he speaks, however, reminds me of TheDude. He was soft spoken and he speaks his mind. I like that in a man. He was comfortable to be with and he listens.

He listens. What could be more attractive than a man who listens?

“So… does he still call you?” M asked, still grinning like a frikkin’ idiot.

I nodded. Yes he still does.

“I want him as a friend, first. No rushing into this crap anymore. It’s only crap when you rush in. like you know, fools rush in and shit.”

“Don’t la lambat sangat. Nanti orang lain dapat.”

I am old fashioned at heart. I believe in fate, still. If I don’t get him, then there must be a reason. I am over hoping, I am over wishing.

I have grown up even though I still get goose pimples whenever I watch the Transformers trailer.

Wahheyy… let’s have that again!

I had a great dream.

In the dream, George Clooney was so hot for me.

What kind of dream could be better than that??? Okayla, if Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp were also in the dream, then Akak will be orgasmically happy… hahaha…

I am so going to catch Ocean’s 13 this weekend… ihiks…

P/S--> Rubes, Tom ‘Over’ Cruise is sooo not in my book.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Pump It

I am a 36C.

Compared to my friend’s 38D, I am like ‘sebijik buah langsat’ compared to a gigantic watermelon. Okayla, maybe I exaggerated. She is like the Fuji Apple, I am like Red Delicious… the point is, it is subjective to one’s preference, no?

Pembaca2 sekelian, tonight I am going to talk about breasts or boobs, teks I would usually call ‘em with my Noks friends.

For the record, I hate wearing something that is low cut because my cleavage has never been quite impressive. But that has never stopped me from trying.

My friends told me that I have a nice pair. Not too big, not too small, juuustt nice… average sized boobies. My 38D friend wished she had mine. I wished I am a 36D. as much as I love having nice cleavage, you would not see any push up bras anywhere in my lingerie drawer. I would much rather spend RM 200 for a set of teddies and garter set at La Senza than blowing them on push ups that costs around 99 per pop (No pun intended).

I bought a plunging neckline purple dress for RM 19.90 last Saturday. Yes-lah, I said RM 19.90. The dress allows no room for a bra. My friends gave it a nod.

“You look yummy, I would have a go at you, no doubt.”

Umm… thanks Rita but I already have a potential girl on girl partner. Did I mention she kinda looked a bit like Aishwarya Rai.

Sarcy’s just twisted like that.

Anyway, back to the busom story.

My friend, however is obsessed with boobarobics. She has a handbook and plus one thick paperback on all the moves a woman could do to achieve that perfect boobalicious shape.

Does it work? I asked her. Dunno… you tell me, belum try belum tau.

One of the exercise involves being on all fours to do a move that is similar to the conventional push up. This not only increases your chest width but it also tones your arm muscles. Of course to achieve both of these end results, one would have to know the proper breathing technic as well.

I never get the breathing part right. I should have as I am a Yoga practitioner, but this? Boobarobics is truly not my style.

I will ask this friend of mine on whether it does work.

I also have friends who are trying very hard to shrink their god given pair. They complained that it is far too much for them to handle and that they have been getting unwanted attention from men.

Hello… I am two sizes smaller than you guys and I CONSTANTLY get unwanted attention from these Baluks (Now that you think about it, could it be that the word ‘baluk’ comes from the British word ‘blokes’? Hehe), even when it’s all covered up. So personally, I don’t think that’s a rational reason in shrinking their cup size.

The point of this entry is, even though, I wish I could be bigger, I will still love my 36Ds.

For desperate measures, I think I will splurge RM 100 and buy that spongy push up.

My Dream Teks

Monday, June 18, 2007

My take on break ups with S

I chatted with a friend who has just recently broken up with her boyfriend of 1 year and a half.

Her dam was down when she called me on my fixed line afterwards. It was about 11.30 PM. I was woozy and in need of sleep. The day was absolutely hectic. My only joy on a Monday night was to catch Judging Amy and swoon over Adrian Pasdar.

Hello, Akak single ok?

S : It has been a week.

Me : Okay, do you want me to baby you or just be brutally honest with you?

S : A little bit of both?

Me : Okaaay… Sure he didn’t mean it. and you know what, I am sure that he doesn’t mean it if another woman is on that couch you used to be on with him right now as we speak.

S : That’s… cold.

Me : Guys are like that. They don’t weep over a failed relationship. They go out, snag the nearest pussy in the vicinity and then life goes on for them. Why should you ‘grief’ over this? They are so totally not worth all your tears.

No, I am not a misandrist, in case you are wondering.

It’s a fact of life. I have experienced it first hand, why should it be any different for anybody else. Hell, if I am wrong, tell me so. It’s no biggie. It’s life.

They said women tend to rush into relationships, actually, guys are the ones who prefer to use a Smart Tag to relationships. A guy approached a woman, told her that she has got a nice smile, oozes with confidence and that she has got the nicest hair he has ever seen, and POW they are in a relationship.

All this, despite the fact that he had just got out of a year long relationship with another woman who also had a nice smile, oozed with confidence and also had the nicest hair he has ever seen.

Come on now, all of this is getting a wee bit too stale.

As for women, we always wanted to make sure that this time it would be different. No more late night fights just because we are not able to spend the night over at his crib, no more feeling as if we are under appreciated, no more feeling inadequate. THIS bloody TIME, IT WOULD BE bloody DIFFERENT!

It would be different, in another heart breaking, nerve wrecking disappointing way.

So far, the only one (after Trey) who really adored me was my ex who lied to me about his whole life. He made that trip from KL to JB at least twice a month and sent me flowers even though we were 300+ KM apart. He was also the only one who would call me just in case he would be stuck somewhere without a line reception for hours so that I will not worry if I was unable to reach him.

And he was a frikkin’ liar who was still married with two kids!

What is wrong with that picture ay?

Let’s be honest, when a woman rolls her eyes at the mention of a man sending over a bouquet of roses, it doesn’t mean that the woman actually loathes the whole thing. We are just too tough too admit that we do get jelly knees and gushes red when a man does something like that. Admitting to something like that in this day and age could sound, well, not independent.

Any toughie would melt.

But that is not the point of my entry (Sorry detoured a bit there.)

So my message to S, get over it, you could cry, but make it a one time thing. There’s a whole new big world to explore out there. If you need a friend, call me up, I’ll make that trip to wherever you are at, and I will remind you of the things that you have left behind.

My message to men, be a dear, and prove us cynics wrong. I know I am looking forward to it.

Sunday, June 17, 2007


I am being dropped, like durians in season, mercilessly by my friends.

They are being snatched up, like fish in the market around 8 PM, during borong time when the mongers would cut the price to more than half of the cost.

Now they are attached to the Siamese twin they never knew they had. Often, especially when we go out in a group of odd numbers, I would always be the odd one out.

I feel as if they were actually talking to me out of pity.

“Kesian Sarcy, dia sorang je. AND she is still in love with one of her ex, no not the recent ExBF la, the other one.”

You are excused if you have given up tracking my love life histoire. It’s complicated, really.

The worst part is that whenever there is a chance to go out with my friends without their significant other present, it all goes back to square one. The topic of discussion would evolve around the boyfriend did that, the girlfriend did this, the fiancé asked for an ass fuck, that kind of thing.

Things people in relationships are concerned with and things they SHOULD not talk with someone who is an acclaimed single.

Apparently, Sarcy is so frikkin’ understanding that sure you could talk about anything with her. She is SARCY. She went out with the Ex she still loves trying very hard not to shoot herself in the head because subconsciously, although she did tell herself that she is NEVER going to meet the Ex anymore, she surrendered and procrastinates the Never part of her little resolution.

Sarcy’s sabotaging herself yet again. That said, she wouldn’t mind talking to you about your pathetic little problem on how the boyfriend doesn’t put the toilet seat back down after peeing or that time when the girlfriend accidentally dropped the Xbox causing major apocalyptical havoc.

Heck, someone knock me on my head because I could not think clearly now.

Of course la, it’s 12 frikkin’ 30 am.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Jangan Pandang Bolakang yo!

*Sarcy’s in the rajin buat blog entry mood*

My Dad bought the ‘Jangan Pandang Belakang’ VCD last night.

Of course, pirated.

But I did go to the movies and paid frikkin’ RM 10 bucks for it. Well, okayla, so I didn’t quite pay for it. (Even the popcorn pun I didn’t pay for.) Because my two dear friends, Kak Neesa and Shah was so hyped about catching the movie, and I am not the one who paid, I said ‘okehla!’.

This better be good, I remembered saying to myself. But I was in a jolly mood, it was our first outing after aeons because we have been busy with work, so just hanging out with them is cool by me.

The beginning was okeh, and then comes the funeral part, and then after the funeral, and then I was a bit disturbed by Seri’s rather aloof and tak kisah attitude despite the fact that her twin sister just died.

The suspense effect is welll… okaylah…

And then came the ghost.

I laughed.

Seriously, I just laughed.

Even though the woman sitting beside me had terrible BO, I laughed.

Do we Malaysians, ALL share the same ‘hantu’ image in our heads? Long unkempt hair, black wart-like face, with talons and clad in white ‘jubah’? And what is all that holding out your fingers to the frightee and acting like, ‘Uuuuuu… be afraid, be VERY afraid?’supposed to mean? Does it mean that the hantu just did its’ manicure?

Reminded me of a friend’s Halloween costume, that stupid ghost. I do feel as if I was transported to the 80’s, before hantus could leap out of the telly. (Wait, I think an instalment of Poltergeist did that. But THAT’S POLTERGEIST. POLTERGEIST’S FREAKIN’ CLASSY – geeky part of me speaking).

The whole concept was cool, I thought. The film’s close to home, and in reality, every Malaysians know that this happened and is still happening in rural areas. How many times have we heard rumors of some Pak Abu or Ali who keeps supernatural entities to either give them riches or to aid them in their work?

But the ghost? THAT ghost?

Come on MAN!!!! It’s like a slap in the face for all Malaysian hantus.

I’ll stick to hantu Jepun, Indon, Thai and Hongky, thank you.

Okehla, this happened a long time ago but the VCD my Dad bought made me… nostalgic? So cut me some slack la eh?

The 'Gila Babi punya menakutkan' Hantu

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Sappy Mood Over

Yeah, exactly. I am back to being a repulsive single who is currently having headaches no thanks to some financial yada yada. Men? Apa itu? Sejenis kuih bakar?

And is it possible for Heroes to not get anymore cooler? That show is loike totally hot! (Do I sound like a frikkin 15 year old who is a comic junkie? Oh wait… I WAS ONE!)

And I love Adrian Pasdar. Milo Ventimiglia is not bad either. I think I am into dark haired men with nice eyes. Saya berasa sungguh miang sekarang.

But according to this frikkin’ test, I am a character who has already died and who also made out with Mohinder Suresh.

Your Score: Eden McCain

You scored 45 Idealism, 58 Nonconformity, 29 Nerdiness

I think you really want a donut.
Congratulations, you're Eden McCain! You've got a colorful past, and your persuasive abilities are second to none. In addition, you're a quick thinker with a solid amount of guts. Your best quality: The art of persuasion Your worst quality: A fondness for some stereotypically "bad" behavior

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Chenta Punya Hal

I remembered when I was dating an ex of mine, he was so adamant on keeping us unexposed.

He didn’t want his family or friends to know about me.

As for myself, after I was lectured by my father (this is the downside of living with your parents, free makan does not justify), I brought him home to meet them. I introduced him as ‘kawan’.

He was a nice guy, with a nice family. For some reason, all of the sudden, I thought, if he doesn’t want anyone to know about us, then this is not going to work.

I felt like it was a joke. So, I ‘buat hal’, covered it up, made myself look like a frikkin paranoid and it ended.

He bailed. I bailed, I gave up and I regretted it after that.

We didn’t talk to each other for nearly a year, when out of the blue I called him and ask him if I was in any way, repulsive when we were a couple that no one knew of. He said no. I asked him if I was arrogant during the course of our short three month stint, he said no, and I asked him if he really did like or possibly even ‘loved’ me. He smiled and he told me;

“You thought it was easy for me, it wasn’t.”


What went wrong? I was insecure, I wasn’t sure and I went paranoid just because he went missing for 3 hours. That’s what went wrong. And that was why even though we could talk about almost anything now as friends, it’s impossible for us to go back to square 1, although I did wish for it to happen. Heh, I am over that now.

Actually, now, I am not sure about this anymore. I am not sure if am fit to be in a relationship. The 3 hour missing incident, subconsciously I know that I was somehow trying to sabotage the relationship. I was afraid. I was freaked out. Kalut, kecoh, Malays call em’, kan cheong, Chinese call ‘em. (Sorry eh, not sure in Tamil what word they use… heh.)

So now, love me or hate me, I am just unsure, messed up, scared and fucked up. I am caught between my solo independence and being alone. Sometimes all the friends in the world cannot make up for that one special person you want to share even the littlest details in your life with.

This coffee makes me emo. No more kopi Cap Television for me! (Who the hell bought this and put in the pantry la???) Or could be this Cinta OST I borrowed from a friend of mine and this Anuar Zain song makes me sappy.

Apo ko bondo yo eh?

Atuk : Ekau bilo nak datang sini eh?

Me : Tuk, Kenapa cakap Nogoghi dengan Sarc eh?

Atuk : Sajo Yo. Copek eh, bilo ekau nak datang sini?

Me : Umm… bila – bilalah. Selalunya kan Sarc datang hari Ahad.

Atuk : Ekau tak reti ko cakap elok-elok guno baso ni?

Me : Tak reti eh

Atuk : Takpo eh. Practice dongan Atuk pon oke la tu.

Me : Iyo. (Hentam ajela!)

Atuk : Nanti ekau datang, bolikan Atuk Capati dokek dongan ghumah ekau tu yo. Sodap cicah dongan kari tu.

Me : Iyolah. beghapo ghibu Atuk nak?

Atuk : Amboih, ghibu2 pulak doh! Bolila cukup untuk Atuk dongan sapo – sapo yang ado kek ghumah ni.

Yup, confirmed, I will never even attempt to talk in this accent whenever we go to N9 for the Raya convoy.

Nanti den Confused dongan baso utagho! Ni pun tak sure baso yang den gunokan ni baso apo

Monday, June 11, 2007

There is something about Sarcy

The last baby, as in an infant, I held, was my cousin, Yasmin.

She was crying even with her mother, and was passed over to everyone in the chaotic house when my turn finally came.

I held her, awkwardly, and almost immediately, she stopped crying, her round eyes were looking at me and she was err… smiling… I think … if not secretly pooping out her diapers.

“Eh… go quiet already. Ah… so you hold on to her la. I need to do something in the kitchen.”

I had a feeling that Yasmin was somehow snickering,

“It’s just you and me kiddo!”


Both my hands occupied and my heart full of prayers that the kid will not throw up on me, I walked to the living room. Already, Yasmin was nodding to sleep.

“Oh… training eh? Like this it’ll be easy la on you when you have one.” My uncle told me.


I don’t know what is it with me and babies. While people told me that I look fierce most of the time, babies just found me… ummm what’s the word… endearing?

Once a plump Chinese baby was seated next to our table in a Mamak. He was the ‘roundest’ baby I have ever seen. The slit eyes were almost covered by his cheeks. Looking at him reminded me of the Marshmallow looking Michelin mascot.

He was extremely fond of me. He was smiling, and chuckling and gurgling at me. I thought it must be the boobs. The boy is getting ready to make full use of his God – given hormones.

My Mum however said, he must have just, liked me. She said there must be something in my face that was just, attractive or infant friendly. Babies could see things we are not able to see sometimes. They make you feel all mushy inside and they definitely turn women on.

Ya meh? I went.

So back to me and Yasmin. I took care of her for the rest of the day, I fed her, I rocked her to sleep, I carry her around with me, even took her for a ride. All because whenever I tried to pass her over to someone else, she would start to squeal and cry her lungs out.

Note ; she has got pretty powerful Celine Dion like lungs.

Yasmin did throw up on my MNG shirt, she did soil her diapers, and I remembered myself trying to figure out the frikkin’ diapers, attempting at first to put the butt part in front.

I found out that I not only appeal to babies, but even to toddlers. This is because when my little cousin, Yash, who was Yasmin’s brother, arrive at the house, he couldn’t resist but to give me one huge slobbery noisy kiss on my cheeks.

So there you have it, Sarcy is a bastard magnet and she also appeals to babies and toddlers alike.

Why must I be so complicated?

Saturday, June 9, 2007

What Sarcy wants

Is normalcy.

I am considerate. I am not unreasonable. I don’t expect any Isaiah Washington to fall head over heels for me. I give people chances, really, I am serious, I DO give people chances (Okay, except for young ‘Mats’ as per the last post). I CAN have a conversation on where I am from and what do I do with aunties at weddings or any other kenduris. I can help out with lifting ‘dulangs’ full of dishes and is quite capable of doing the dishes, in a baju kurung too.

I may look like a snob, have dyed my hair, pierced both my ears more than once, wear ‘revealing’ clothes and speak bloody English, but like what I said, I am misunderstood half of the time.

Saya boleh cakap melayu, melayu saya bunyik macam melayu dan tak bunyik macam Ramona Rahman dalam filem Fenomena yang top masa saya 12 tahun. Plus I don’t go to traditional weddings wearing tank tops.

And I can cook a decent Asam Pedas and Kangkung belacan meal although I would prefer to cook pasta and Tomato Sauce gravy most of the time.

I have just realized what I want. It has nothing to do with platinum cards, a Beemer, a wardrobe full of Gucci, a jet setting lifestyle, Europe vacations and blings.

I want the simple things in life. Passion, companionship, family and friends.

Men wise, I want someone who I could bring back to my parents and introduce to them as my boyfriend and not just ‘kawan’, someone with whom I could go to friends’ weddings to, someone who would introduce me as his ‘girlfriend’ to his parents and who would bring me to their friends’ weddings and whatnots.

Someone who would not just think of shagging me silly whenever I stepped into an empty house with him is a bonus.

And I do want a frikkin’ ring on my finger put on by my Mother in law to be.

That’s it, no more going to engagement thingies. These things make me think funny.

Maybe my choice of underwear has been preventing me from getting the normalcy I want ;

What Your Underwear Says About You
When you're bad, you're very bad. And when you're good, you're still trouble!

You're sexy, in that pinup girl, tease sort of way.
Oh, by the way, I like black lacy ones... ;)

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Helo, my name Mat.

I just HAVE to write about this.

It’s frikkin’ funny and amusing but also, inspiring la jugak that I just HAVE to write about this.

I was in a Mamak, tapau-ing for my famished familia at home, when this under-aged looking dude came to me. He had this spiky hair-do loaded with gel, smells like he has just combed in a whole Brylcreem pot on his head and was wearing a hideous T-Shirt with a pair of cargos that sweeps the floor. He had acne on his forehead and is actually quite cute, provided, if I am a 17 year old.



“Sorang je?”

I could not help but to ask;

“Nampak orang ke kat sebelah akak?”

“Heh… tak?” he said, sheepishly.

For a moment I was alarmed that maybe unconsciously, I have left my fly undone or a stray booger was hanging shamelessly on my nostril. Teenagers could sometimes be mean and crude.

I know, I was one (A teenager I meant), and their honest but impolite remarks could reduce a grown up to tears.

“Akak, Nama saya Mat.”

I was so tempted to introduce myself as Minah but managed to restrain my sarcastic self.

“Kenapa eh?”

“Nak kenal akak boleh?”

“Umur u berapa eh?”

“20.” I went bloody hell, he’s my brother’s age!

“U tau tak umur akak berapa?”

“Saya suka orang yang lebih matang dari saya.” He said, with a grin across his face.

Luckily, I was wearing my solitaire diamond ring and I was wearing it on my left hand.

“I dah kahwinla. Anak satu.”

“Mana anak akak?”


“Kat rumahlah.”

“Akak tak nampak macam dah kahwin la.”

“Eh… baguslah.”

For once in my life, the Mamak dude saved the day by coming up to me with my order. I paid the guy, smiled to Mat and left.

When I was thinking about it in the car, I was flattered that a young dude approached me and actually find big assed size 12 ol’ me attractive. It was his courage and his willingness to take no for an answer that impressed me. If only grown men have at least half (a quarter pun will do) of his courage, then maybe us single women would not be put off by their cowardly disposition as much.

Kudos Mat… keep up the good work. Cayalah!

A short totally unrelated note;

I am not saying that I support Pak Lah much, but people, give him a break - lah. The man's marrying a woman he loves, and even if the woman of his choice was his housekeeper and his late wife's SIL, I thought it was a bit harsh for everyone to throw criticism and to say that his marriage compromised his ability to be the PM (That's another story... ) .

This just doesn't make any sense, grow up and stop sending me emails about him getting married already. I have CNN, Al-Jazeera, BBC, CNBC and Buletin Utama to give me all the info I need.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Being Weekenders!

Last weekend was a lot of thing for me.

It was fun, intoxicating, exciting and tiring, painful even.

I discovered that the best cure for the worst hang over I had in years was to puke my guts out. Thanks to that, I sprained my ankle, there goes my Yoga and Jogging plans then.

Oh well…

Friday Night (not 'Hari Khamis Malam Jumaat)

Anna's Birthday at a place that I have never been to, Just In Time Cafe, obviously the owner is a fan of MU.... so no Liverpool talk on the table when he is around.. heh..

My girl Anna blowing her candles, The girl in the background I don't have a clue as to who.

The Ladies Club

Happy Birthday Anna, I hope you will get your 'marry a rich guy and be a tai - tai' wish...

Saturday (Slightly hung, but good to go)

The long overdue family Malacca trip. On that day, made so many detours, I lost count. We finally reached Malacca around 3.00 PM.

Tergolek Cat scene at a Soto stall during breakfast in JB

Part of the Muzium Islam Melaka. I love the buildings there. They have character, they're red and it's great for a photography freak like Moi.

We wasted RM 1 for tickets to visit this museum. 'No Pikches' said the receptionist. Dude... like I want to. My Dad said aloud that the only person that mattered was Dato' Onn.

Hip Becas (Trishaws) passing us by.

My Mum was melting under the harsh sun. My sister was also snapping pictures like mad and my Dad went, Eh... How many stairs up? I went, 'Daddy, Why don't you kira and I will ask you later?'

The one in the bottom is the original staircase.

Above; Tombstones of some dignitaries. One of them had a picture of a skull (think Pirates of Caribbean poster kind of skull), which is loike... cool.

Below; There was a so called and thought to be wishing well in one part of the St Paul hill's remains. people throw coins, and even RM 1 note down and made a wish. I bet you could get all kinds of coins dating back to the 60's in it, if the authorities didn't take it already. This Ah-Pek, he doesn't believe in wishes and crap, he was mumbling all the time that he didn't even realize me standing at the side to take his picture. Just so you know, he was trying to get some of the coins that didn't get into the well. I thought he was saying to himself;

"Ini olang sumua sangiat bodoh. ala lui kasi campak lalam piligi. Baik wa ambik bili makan"

The view from St. Paul's Hill

Below; author controlling her cun in front of the A'Famosa fort. Pink shirt auntie maybe thinking that I am spoiling her picture. Here, everyone spoils everyone's pictures. I am just lucky the 'Auntie baju pink' didn't kick me out of her light.

Below; He aint't heavy, he's my 2 minute brotha. His name is Rocky, and judging from his pose, he rawked!

*Rocky: The broad's totally messed up my good side -la*

Still to come-- My mocha shot, Hip Becas shot and whole lot of other shots!

The Mocha addict gets her Mocha and go Mocha Loco!

The ride to 'Rumah Merah' on the hip beca

Rumah merah
Jonker Street... my favorite stretch of road in Malacca

I found this jewel on Jonker Street itself. I love buildings like this, there is just something that is extremely appealing. It has that classy old home feeling to it... and that, you can't buy.