Memoirs of the Worthy

i'm done packing

2009-02-08T15:47:00.008+08:00

I've moved yet again.

Because.

I am bored.

Yet again.

Silence.

I'll kill you.

http://www.beyond-that-sanity.blogspot.com/

Come if you care.

talented

2008-10-27T15:17:00.005+08:00

I am in love with Lara Jade.

Her photography skills, her amazing modelling talent, her exquisite eye for art - everything about her work just pulls me in. At the moment, this 18 yr old lady is my biggest inspiration. I inspire to be like her. To turn an ordinary scene into something extraordinary. To simply switch camera angles and get an artwork masterpiece. To make a camera object seemed so much more than just that. To be so deeply inspired at a very young age, and not give a shit what the world thinks about you being not experience enough.

Woah.

ACE'id DESIGNS will definitely be a tribute to Lara Jade. Hey gurl, if I ever get to meet you, I'll take my hat off. If I'm wearing one, that is.

I love it when someone or something totally random creates a deep impression in my mind. Like they grasps me with all its strength, and unclot my writer's block. Atleast now that my novel is abandoned for the time being, I'm into another kind of art - profile photography.

Thanks Lara. Someone in small, tiny Singapore actually knows about your work and your talent.

You're bigger than you think you are, babe.

P.S: all images above are courtesy of Lara Jade and is protected by copyright law. Please do not attempt to extract without credits.

Bloodsucker

2008-09-20T21:37:00.002+08:00

Harry Potter was not the only wizard ever to survive the Killing Curse. Cedric Diggory survived as well.

And when we thought Diggory had crumpled after the Avada Kedavra....

...he actually just flew away and became a vampire. He call himself Edward Cullen now. *grins*

Cho must be proud.

But Edward scares me. That pale-looking, sunken, icy skin. It made me feel cold, just looking at him.

Cedric didn't.

I miss Cedric.

Dump My Hiatus

2008-08-15T18:48:00.002+08:00

I found my way back.

Mainly because i realised how i've been detaching myself from the lovely readers who still bother coming to this little page, only to find that again, it has never been updated. Not that i'm saying there are people who still want to read about my life, but i LIKE to think there are people still interested in wanting to know what i do everyday when i'm not staring at the ceiling fan. So i HOPE and i THINK these kind people will keep coming to this blog. It's okay if they don't, i still WANT to think they do, and you can't stop me because after all it's my thoughts, and this is my blog, and i feel like updating, cuz i miss putting my everydays into words.

There you go.

They say if you can't convinced them, confuse them. And apparently, i haven't got enough will power to convince all of you as to why i didn't have time to update my entries. So, i hope you are confused and spare me the trouble of explaining. Pls be confused. =)

I am BACK! And i am in business. Whatever that means.

A few months have passed atleast, and so much has happened. But the most important thing of all this happenings is that me missing my beanies. I miss them a whole lot. For future's sake, i have to leave them to take care of themselves and the cafe. As much as i want my life to be associated with them baristas and cafe, i have to pull myself out - because apparently my fiancee wants a memorable wedding, a comfortable beautiful house, savings for our future's future, triplets at my first birth, and a baby named Tiara.

Although the triplets was actually my idea.

Though i want to be a barista for life, building a career as one can't get me all of the above. So i changed my mind. With the basic full-time job pay i'm getting now at SingTel, i will strive to achieve those dreams, and then with three tots running behind me, i might just get back to making coffee and latte art.

Sounds like a plan. I LIKE.

My dearest beanies, your shift leader will be back soon! Don't you fear. You're in good hands of Nadiah Sapuan. Once i'm settled down, stable, i will return and we'll rule the world. Mark my words. I miss you guys like fuck. Haiz.

On the other hand, call centre environment was the best i've ever imagine. To get moronic, fun colleagues was more than i asked for. From the start or shift, til the end, it was pureless fun. Your phone ringing and answering "Welcome to Singtel Mobile. How can I assist you?" only to be answered by, "Semangat nampak," and turning around fuming to a pair of laughing idiots, getting pantun pop-up emails of "Makcik pakai baju biru, kawan oi buat ape tu?" and replying "Atas pokok ade cik pon, aku tgh angkat tepon!" - it was exactly the definition of 'enjoying what you do.'

I'm loving it. And i'm loving my fiancee. Abu and Nori's wedding last Sunday has made me fantasize of the Titans escorting Kid and I during our wedding.

As long as Elfee don't fall off his Kawa again. And as long as Yan and Danial sing 'Kasihnya Laila' exactly with the same expressions. All above 20 - i'm the youngest of the lot, both boys and girls added - yet, i feel like the oldest with their nonsensical jokes, bike-stunts tak jadi and doing burnt-in instead of a burnt-out ("AKU BARU TUKAR TAYAR NAK BUAT BURNT-OUT? Gile pe! Aku buat burnt-in ah!").

Absolute awesomeness. Baby, get a K8 soon plz. I love you.

And i need to feed my pet fish now because it looked so miserable in that big tank alone. And Kid is complaining of how i spend more attention to the fish than him. In fact, he hated the fish so much he thinks shooting it would earn him a Nobel Prize for services to the world.

Dream on love.

And if you readers have a pet, pls treat with care. If you had a bad day at work and was thinking of strangling your cat, stop for a moment and gimme a call. I'll advise you lock yourself up in ur room and learn how fascinating your ceiling fan is.

Then the world would be a nicer, friendlier place.

When I Grow Up

2008-05-20T14:47:00.005+08:00

I've always wanted to be a journalist.

Have always dreamt of filling up an empty piece of paper devoid with words, thoughts and emotions. Have always wished i could share wonder-spinning tales, be it fiction or reality, and watched in awe as others read them and smile. Have always thought of reviewing life in itself and the controversial issues surrounding our everyday chores. Have always wanted to share.

I've always wanted to be a designer too.

Webpage building, multimedia interactive...those stuff, they intrigued me. To click onto a webpage and know that those beautiful layouts are the result of your sleepless nights, is just to satisfying.

And which kid doesn't dream of being famous? Of getting a one-shot at fame or even any role in helping produce some kind of media arrangement.

I dream. We all dream. But after so long today, i found one other thing which i wanted to be.

A professional barista.

Yes, i'm admitting it. If i don't get to be a writer, a designer or a singer, i want to set up my own business, open a cafe and worship coffee-art my whole life. I never appreciate working in McCafe apart from the superb colleagues and the joy of queing up at the POSB machine at 12am in the morning. But now i've learnt more. I've learnt the art of coffee-making and latte-designing.

They say if you have the passion, you have the love. Well, i love my job.

The Marathon

2008-05-06T02:08:00.004+08:00

For someone who sulks when knowing that her boyfriend isn't the kind of guy who likes watching movies, I HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN WATCHING A TAD TOO MANY MOVIES JUST LAST WEEK ALONE.

Here's the list:

1. Definitely, Maybe (which i actually said it as Actually, Maybe, and got Azfar laughing as though i've told the joke of the year).

2. The Hottie and the Nottie (Not that great really. I mean, i don't need to watch Paris Hilton being her usual bimbo self as though she actually produce the movie, you know. Oh wait. She did. Go figure.)

3. Iron Man (Officially my favourite superhero now. Though i love superman a lot, i think it will actually kill him to save me from the bad guys and crack a joke in the process. Iron Man would do it naturally of course.)

4. Dooms Day (The scene where a guy was cooked and grilled alive then someone served a piece of his flesh to someone else going, "If you're hungry, you might wanna try a piece of your friend"...that was THE BOMB MAN!)

5. What Happens in Vegas; Stays in Vegas (Sappy, funnily, good enough for me. Makes me wanna produce my own movie titled 'What Happens in Singapore, Stays on YouTube.)

It's a brilliant achievement to see my baby change from a whiny, bull-headed boyfriend to an 'i'll-do-anything-as-long-as-it-keeps-you-happy' fiancee. Hell, there are so many things i wanted from him, but this alone is actually good enough. I love you dear. Even though you made me helped you tear out your bike red rim-lining til my fingernails actually broke, and claimed that i should have nothing to worry about because apparently i have "NON-EXISTING MANICURE", i still love you alot alot alot.

And please lambs, those are of course not Kid's exact words. I have to rephrase them for easier understanding. =)

FRIENDSTER'S TRYING TO MURDER ME AGAIN.

When i go to the webpage just to browse, take a look around, read and re-read my own profile a hundred times, it's working fine. But when i NEED and HAVE to add Chez up in my friendster, the damn thing just had to go on MAINTENANCE MODE.

Bitch.

time-less

2008-04-29T02:27:00.002+08:00

Money can't buy you time.

I wish i could make half the people at work realise that i need just a little time off to visit my bed and pillows and perhaps, blog a decent entry and change my template? Unlike last time when i used to have time, time, time and just time - so much so i spent hours staring at my fishtank and wondering what to do with all these time on my hands - and so could blog down my everyday routine for the world to bore at...now, i no longer have that much of it. So when u caught a rare entry here, i'm either very excited or very depressed.

The previous entry, as you could plainly see, was a sudden depression due to the outcome of SYF 2008. But not just that. It was depression plus anger and a whole lot of fire and passion burning more fiercely than ever...just because i was enraged at my dearest band's defeat.

But hell, 2010 will soon be here and i hope i will be able to blog down a happy exclamating entry after the SYF.

Hear, hear. God, grant us the strength to snatch our trophy back.

Work was great with new people onboard. Pearl and Chez were the two most awesome ladies i've ever met and i was glad boss decided to recruit them into cafe. Pearl's first day doing closing, and she has already officially became Kid's number-one tease victim.

"Id, nie tunang kau nie?"

Yes Pearl, honey. He's a little moronic, but he is my fiancee and i love him all the same.

So life's good. Everything's good. And i fought with White Sands Restaurant Manager because he claimed he was feeling down and blue just because Man U lost. I told him i wasn't. In fact i'm even more proud to shout to the whole world that the Red Devils are still THE BEST DESPITE OF WHETHER THEY WIN OR LOSE. He raised his eyebrows a little, but still gave me a smile. And it was then i realise that TKBand's downfall has really taken a toll on me.

Now, if my devils seemed to be losing in any match, i will right away think of TKBand and i'll continue cheering them on.

ANONEH PAKUKE.

My Band

2008-04-18T01:39:00.003+08:00

Yes.

It's still Anoneh Pakuke.

Despite the turn of events, the broken winning streak and the unfathomable outcome, one thing is still as clear as our mace of honour...

TK Band is still the best band in the land - in the school's eyes, in the alumni's heart and in every each ex-band members soul. No matter how far apart we drifted from the moment we graduated off the field, no matter how we laugh at the fact that some people are still band enthusiast and no matter how much we throw snide remarks about hopes of the band losing; we're still gathered at the National Stadium on one fateful day every two years. The field of dreams. Where memories are irreplaceable and where victory had never ceased to fall in our grips.

Except.

Pretty self-explanatory. And as much as i try not to let it bother me, it still does. And although i laughed it off when leaving the stadium after the results were announced, only God knows how my heart bleeds as i stumbled upon the SYF tickets while clearing my bag for the day.

I cried when i thought of the celebrations in 2002 and 2004. And i cried knowing how sick and shitty the 2008 batch must be feeling. I do not know how to feel as i hadn't felt it before. But i know TK Band. One single downfall won't break us. Deyi might have snatch our championship away, but i believe, with every smallest faith in me, that TK Band will show the world why we claimed that we defined excellence.

And that very excellence will be re-defined in 2010. Deyi will march their sorry socks off and politely hand back our crown. After all, we are a class of our own. The best band in the land. And among all, we define excellence. Take away our title now, for you deserve it, seeing how we've underestimated you bandits, but our spirit stays and burns forever until we get back what is rightfully ours. That, i have always believed.

Deyi got my salute for the outstanding performance. Without a doubt, the best band wins. But TK Band will be back. I know. I trust.

So my band days may be over about four years back, but once in band, always in band. And even as i stand a different person, an engaged lady with a new family soon to be build, i'm still a TK Band member. And absolutely nothing can take that away.

The band's victory ten years down the road will still be MY band's victory. And you can bet that even if i'm married with seven kids, i'd still be blogging down every Outdoor Band Competition as if i was still on the field, with a clarinet in my hand, enduring the heat and sweat, and standing with rigid posture ready to strike and show why TK Band is feared.

Applause to TK Band batch 2008. You guys were marvelous. Bring back the glory in two years time. The glory that is rightfully ours. Anoneh Pakuke.

Forever. Anoneh Pakuke.

We fell this year, TK Band. But we fell with pride, our heads held high and our faithful instruments in our hands.

I am still proud to be a TK Band member. Nothing beats the experience of being in a military band. Win, lose, or draw...the memory will stay.

And...i'll still yell Anoneh Pakuke at the top of my lungs.

patience

2008-03-18T02:04:00.002+08:00

Saturday has come and gone. If it sounds like i'm gonna get emotional, well, i am. I'm someone's fiancee. Like now i have a big 'RESERVED' sign tattooed across my forehead. Or fingers rather, whichever way you wanna see it. And if you think i'm gonna complain, you gotta think again. Because i'm loving it. And i like it. And i love him. And i can't wait for the wedding.

Sheesh. To think i'm only 19.

Go ahead and shake your heads, lambs. Go ahead and laugh and narrow your eyes wondering whether i've got acorns growing out of my brain. I don't. I want this. I choose this. No matter how delusional and drastic it sounds, this has been what i wanted my whole life. Pushing aside the fact that i do want to get out of this house badly (don't get me wrong, i love my family, mom, dad, sisters and brothers; but there are some things you don't understand), i really really want this.

So maybe you're the ones with acorns growing out of your brains.

I want to marry him. I want him to father my kids. And i want all this before i turn 26. Something about proving society wrong kinda urge me. The controversial and lowly stuff they associate young married couples and young parents with - it irks me. Mommy, let me prove something. I may break down and you may go, "See, I told you so," but i will stand up back. He will take my hand and help me up. Insyallah.

It's only half a step i'm taking. Others go, "He's 27, getting old, of course he wanna marry soon. But you're 19. So young. A whole life ahead of you." Does it help if i say i see my life infront of me only with him? Does it help if i admit that i know there are bound to be problems, financially especially, but i still wanna go through it anyway? Does it help if i scream that indeed i'm making a rash decision and rushing into things, but this is what i want?

People think i'm ruining my teenage years and freedom by getting hitched. But be in my shoes, and you'll see that i'll have more freedom after marriage than i'm having now.

Allah will help us both through. We have a good intention. We didn't get engaged just to get married and then to have a divorce. Nobody does. It's about whether you're strong enough to go through it or not.

I want a family of my own. I could well be 16 right now, but my mindset will stay the same.

Just pray for both of us? Please. We'll take advices, but not a 'no'. Because to each other we've already said 'yes'. So please pray. Please please. Because we both know it won't be easy. We heard what you all have got to say, and we agree and still, our decision sticks. But if there are prayers to back us up, insyallah, we'll make it through.

Damn, i speak like i'm a 30-year-old woman who has been through a divorce 5 times.

And this entry is not a tad bit enjoying considering the fact that saturday had been quite enjoying. So i will make it up in the next entry. Some party-popping pictures and a post of length. I promise.

For now i gotta call my boyfriend before i go to sleep; i miss him so fucking much although i just saw him hours ago.

Did i say boyfriend?

Sorry, i meant fiancee.

=)

Only Half-way Done

2008-03-14T15:51:00.003+08:00

Tomorrow's the day.

And if you've been reading Jane's blog, NO, i'm not talking about the Garfield show. The Garfield's show on EVERYDAY. Im talking about my engagement. Yay.

Still a lot more to be done at home.

So i shall come back tomorrow maybe with photos and a lengthy entry.

If i feel like it.

We'll see.

God, i am so afraid

2008-03-06T23:48:00.004+08:00

Earlier today underneath BLk 124b Bukit Merah View, my darling Kid asked me a question, "Mase matair you meninggal that time, you nangis?"

No baby.

During that point of time, i didn't shed a single tear. I stared into space and simply zone out when his body was brought back from the hospital. I kissed him on the forehead before they gave him his one last bath. I sat one corner hugging his mother and little sister, and staring at his lifeless body in the middle of the hall. I didn't smile, i gave no expression...for a while, it seemed like i died with him. I did everything a mourning girlfriend would do. Everything, except cry. No, i didn't shed a tear because i was dehydrated, after buckets of tears wasted on the second i learned of his death. So during the ceremony, uh-uh, no tears. None.

But when the Ustaz read the talqin (sp?), at the foot of his grave after he was lowered down, when the earth soil fell upon his body already seven feet down in the ground, that is when i shed the first real tear. That's when my heart cried. And that's when i feel like just slipping together into the hole dug for him when nobody's looking. And that's when i stared at the grave and shouted for him in my head. "Abang! Kluar...get out of there please. Baby, they are covering you in soil. You gotta get out abang...please baby. I love you so much. I miss you. Please. Please..."

And my heart bleeds just to know that the name we used to play-pretend during one of our angan-angan wedding dreams (Aku nikah kan engkau Md. Zafer Sayid Bin Abduh...) is now etched on a tombstone dated 9 May 1985 - 5 April 2005.

Today, the myriad of policemen escorting arwah Halim to his grave, made me relived the past. Of course, then there was no escort because Zafer isn't exactly a man of importance. I hugged Sab, hugged Dee and i hugged Nad. Dear dear Nadiah whom i know exactly how she's feeling. The feel of knowing he is gone, and there was no last words, and when you get to see him, he refused to open his eyes.

Nad baby, believe me, i understand. You've been through a lot before...i'm sure you can pull through this one. I did. Sab did. So will you.

I never met Halim. Only heard of him through the many problems his relationship and Nad had. And to know that Nad has lost her one true love in a split second, in mere minutes, it numbed my every senses. I don't want Nadiah to feel what sab and i have felt, but i guess it's unavoidable now.

Allah loves him more, and Allah wants to open all of our eyes. Allah Hu Akhbar.

And dear God? Once is enough for me please. Please please do not let any of the people that i know go through this traumatic moments again. Please dear dear God, if you do have to take a loved one away from someone...atleast let them have farewell exchanges by the death bed instead of just a split second pronouncement of death, no goodbye, no last words, no seeing him for the last time.

And God please, don't take Sab and Nad away from me. And Md Khidzir Ahmad too...i need him forever. I will lose it if you decide to take him away like how you took Zafer away walaupun aku redha pemergiannya ya Allah.

Ya Allah, kau cucurilah rahmat ke atas roh Allahyarham Abdul Halim Bin Abdul Samad. For every wrongdoings and sins, grant him forgiveness please. Sesungguhnya Engkau Maha Pengampun. Berikan lah keluarganya dan Nadiah Binte Sapuan the strength and courage to move on in this life without him by their side. And let the prayers of every relative, friends and acquantainces lessen his pain in hereafter.

Amin amin ya rabbal alamin.

Rest In Peace

2008-03-06T00:35:00.001+08:00

http://www.straitstimes.com/Latest%2BNews/Singapore/STIStory_213567.html

No words whatsoever shall express what i'm feeling. Nadiah dear, be strong because I know exactly how you feel.

Halim, I've never met you, but i know you're the best thing ever to happen in Nad's life. With this, i wish you rest in peace and shall be in my prayers. Dear Allah, please pardon his sins.

Amin.

The Royal Tale

2008-02-28T12:19:00.013+08:00

The writer in me states that my muse have not really died down. In fact, it screamed at me; especially when i started browsing old articles and novels i've written these past few years. My favourite among all was a story i wrote titled, 'In The Blood'. It's not all gory and dark as the title projects. Infact, it's just about a family, the Royals, who are affliated with this secret brotherhood called Skulls and Bones. Even though it's my own writing i'm reading back, i find the story line quite heart warming really.

But it does takes skill.

And hours and hours of neverending research to get the myth and the fiction in the brotherhood. And since i'm lazy to blog anything more down (you sure my muse isn't gone yet?), i'll grabbed the prologue of that story. Just an excerpt from the beginning. Just to pull you through some myth and legend. And since everyone's stories deserved to be told, this is theirs.

IN THE BLOOD
PROLOGUE

Night had settled over most of London.

It’s infamous fog hung low on the particularly warm evening of February the 18th. All the sleepy little neighbourhoods, nestled in the mist of the evening, seemed to almost fall asleep, as their inhabitants slowly dimmed the lights in exchange for some peaceful slumber. All in all, it was a quiet evening, as most evenings usually were in the suburbs of the city.

Inside a huge house, a low rumbling continuous humming was heard. The house, known more commonly to the people in the neighbourhood as the Tomb, had its dark curtains drawn down on almost every corner. If someone were to press their ears close to the large oak door, they would realize that the low humming was actually voices of people in unison; something like a choir. Except, this was no ordinary choir. It was a choir – formed by a group of people; a brotherhood that spells Power with a capital ‘P’.

About not more than twenty people were gathered in the living room of the Tomb. All of them – men and women – were in similar hooded cloaks and masks. They were chanting or rather, more like reciting an initiation rite. As the chanting continued, a light-brown haired guy emerged from his room. He stared for a moment at the masked figures before his eyes darted to the side of the room, where his brother was seated, watching the hooded figures without blinking.

The guy glared at his brother, narrowed his eyes slightly and continued his predominant stare on his brother. Two seconds later, his brother got up from the seat, walked over to where the hooded figures were standing, and starting cursing all of them at the top of his voice. The chanting stopped. As though in trance, his brother clasped his mouth and glanced around in fear. “I didn’t! It wasn’t – I would never - ” his brother paused, staring ahead of him. “He. He made me do it.“

A woman stepped forward from the hooded figures and turned to look at the brown-haired guy. Throwing the woman a look of pure hatred, the guy walked up to the oak door. He opened it and stepped out into the cold air of the night. Behind him, the door slammed shut.

The lonesome young guy sat on the front steps of the Tomb. Even in the darkness, you could make out his sharp, handsome features and perfect mouth turned down in dismay and anger. If you could hold a light close to his face, you would behold
the way his bright intelligent green eyes flashed dangerously; the way he was
grumbling under his breath, the way he seemed to emit his rage to his surroundings.

A few minutes later, the door opened and those hooded figures came out – this time, dressed in normal attire, as though they’d just returned from visiting the owners of the house. The walked down the path to the huge massive gate, away from the Tomb – or, the guy would always thought, away from me. Every few seconds, the people would turn to look at the guy. Even in the darkness, the young man could see fear in their eyes as they stared at him, before making a quick business of disappearing from his view quickly.

The door to the Tomb burst open and out strode a formidable looking woman. She was wearing a deep navy gown and her hands were shaking – perhaps with fury. Nonetheless, she grabbed the guy by the scruff of his collar and forced him inside.

The door was slammed shut.

Inside, the light brown-haired guy eyed the woman furiously. He had his hands in his jeans pocket; perhaps it too was shaking with fury. He was about to open his mouth, when she started first, in a rather livid manner, yelling not speaking.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU EDWARD? How many times have I told you not to behave in that way with Nick, especially in front of others? Tell me boy, does anything penetrate through that thick skull of yours?”

Edward R. Allen kept his mouth shut allowing himself to build up a wall of anger before yelling back. He knew she was provoking him, but he would wait till his temper had reached his boiling point. The woman sank into a nearby armchair, looking more dangerous than ever, yet trying to soften her look by burying her head into her hand and shaking it in dismay. “Why Edward, why? We never encouraged, or practiced all those – erm – whatever you possessed.”

Disgust was evident in her voice. Edward remained silent. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his younger brother, Nick, slowly edging his way into the scene. He knew exactly what would happen next; it had happened countless occasions before. Nick would make his way to the armchair, comfort Mother, playing devil’s advocate all the while, saying how she could not, must not, blame herself for the outcome of people’s behavior, and that she, of course, was right and all that nonsensical crap. And just as Edward had predicted, he did walk over and start talking in hushed tones.

The woman, his dear sweet mother, looked up as she addressed Edward indirectly. “Don’t speak rubbish, Nicky darling, of course Ed will be made to issue an apology to you…in front of everyone.” Edward clenched his jaw. She continued. “It’s all because of the company he keeps, you see darling,” Nick nodded as if Edward wasn’t present at all, “His friends are dangerous, dark, rebellious,” Edward bit his tongue so as to prevent anything particularly nasty from coming out, “And the garbage of the society. What else is to be the outcome?“

Gritting his teeth and making a fist, Edward idly wondered how long more he would, could, withstand this nonsense before he would burst. Next would come the part about him being unsatisfactory, dishonoring the noble name of the brotherhood and his family.

“…running our name in the mud, a name that your forefathers before you worked so hard to keep up…” Edward noted dully that she was speaking directly to him now. Now would come the part of how he should treat Nick and the rest of his relatives, much more better and how he should date the girls from the other wealthy and respectable families, be courteous, respect them, hang out with them. Edward knew the whole drill by heart now. But then came something he didn’t expect.

“Your psychic abilities are a disgrace to our honorable family name! I told you to stop reading people’s thoughts and controlling them, didn’t I? The brotherhood despises people who practiced black magic! And I would not have a son who runs around with filthy, rotten, dirt like that Sarah girl. In my opinion - ”

But Edward didn’t care much for her ‘opinion’. In fact, he decided, he didn’t care much for her. His eyes flashed in a most threatening way once again. Her last comment had gotten to him and he didn’t know whether it was because she had again insulted his abilities to control minds or because she had brought up Sarah in the topic…but something had struck a chord and before he knew it, Edward was lashing out all of his built up rage upon her and that numbskull, Nick.

“You keep giving me shit about how the Allens and the brotherhood are so much more well-brought up and how I should mix around with these sophisticated rich people. Let me tell you something – these people have nothing! Only class, post and high quality! That doesn’t mean anything to me, mother! And don’t you dare utter the Sarah’s name from your disgusting mouth! She’s much more of a human being than you two pathetic under mounts can ever hope to be!” Edward breathed heavily, letting out everything he had bottled up for years.

Ignoring the looks of indignation on their faces, though he knew he was venturing a bit far, he continued, “HOW MANY TIMES, MOTHER? How many times do I have to sit here and listen to all this idiotic nonsense about how Nicholas is the perfect son? For how long do you want to keep denying the fact that you too have the abilities I possessed? For how long should I continue to endure this rubbish? LOOK AROUND MOTHER! OPEN YOUR EYES! You’ll see that so many commoners out there are better people than you!”

The woman was at a loss for words. She stared at her son sudden outburst of stinging words, aghast at everything he had just said. The silence in the room hung like an ominous cloud. Then in a low, dangerous tone, she ranted out, “Stop. This. Nonsense. This. Very. Instant. Do you hear me Edward Allen?” She emphasized on each word, making it almost impossible for him to continue lashing out his anger.
Once again, he lost.

“Yes mother,” he said, stonily, his face a perfect illustration of detachment. He was used to this, used to forcing down his burning anger and frustration – there was nothing else he could do. He was trapped, completely powerless.

Nick, sitting nearby in a heavy, intricately carved chair made from dark mahogany, sneered contemptuously. Edward gave his brother a single glance, and then, wholly unaffected by Nick’s obvious disgust, Edward turned sharply on his heel and strode from the room, his shoes clicking hollowly on the highly polished wooden floor.

He walked steadily down the hall, feeling his mother’s eyes boring into the back of his neck as he left. The still, dry air eddied in his wake, stirring the few specks of dust that rested on the gleaming furniture lining the hall. It was not until he was round two corners and safe inside his own room that he let the cold, emotionless expression slide from his face and crumble into one of utter misery.
He exhaled shakily, his head and shoulders dropping in defeat, and resigned himself to the fact that he was stuck in this static, suffocating, empty house, or rather tomb, for the rest of his life. A sudden fury welled up inside him and he had the sudden urge to throw something, smash something, break something, just make SOME kind of impact, ANY impact. He wanted prove to himself that he was there, he was alive, he could feel, that he could change things. But instead, he collapsed helplessly face first onto his richly draped bed and buried his face in his pillow.

It was no use.

Even up ‘til now, twenty-nine years later, Edward reclined on an armchair in his office, his legs outstretched. In that contemplative mood, there was no telling where his thoughts could reach…

Yes, that's just a Prologue so as you can guess, there is a continuation to it. If you are all being nice, and if i'm feeling up to it, maybe i'll post the rest down for your reading pleasure.

We'll see.

anoneh pakukeh

2008-02-26T03:34:00.002+08:00

Okay, i'm going to say this. And you'll be very surprise to see me typing this down.

I MISS TKBAND.

No, no...i really do. Hearing about the band from my sis when she went visiting last two days, made me reminisce all the good old times on that field who held so much memories beneath our marching shoes. My brother got into the main block just like i did when i first stepped into TKBand. And he may not know it, but i feel so frigging proud of him. And the best part of it all is how i get excited just knowing that he has a chance of being the Drum Major as time passes.

It feels so weird just typing all of this down. Only recently i thought i've pushed away every connection there is to the best part of my secondary school life - drills, drills, drills and more drills. But apparently, i now missed having that unspoken rule of never-wavering loyalty to a certain mission and goal. That hardwork, sweat, tears, blood, mud and grass we could have avoided but chose it all anyway.

Anoneh Pakukeh.

Been ages since i last heard that. The two words with memories dripping from them so strong, it almost brings tears just thinking about it. And to think up til now, i never knew what it meant. Who cares anyway? We don't need to know. It's like knowing you'll love that valentine gift from your boyfriend although you don't even know what it is yet, but that doesn't matter to you because you love anything he buys anyway, because you love him so much.

I'm a hopeless romantic moron, am i not?

Oh wells, it gets like that sometimes. Especially when you start flashing back all those times spent in band. Now i think, after so long, i've finally realised that the endurance band taught me was what made me so strong all these years.

Thank you TKBand...for...well, everything.

For everything.

Syifa'

2008-02-24T23:40:00.003+08:00

Parents. Or young modern parents, to be exact, would never name their child a name they know would be associated to the 60s or 70s era. Parents nowadays hardly opened up that Islamic Baby Names book to look up a perfect name with a perfect meaning for their newborn. What they will do is pick the most glamorous name there is, along the lines of Delylah, Isabella, Ariana, and my personal favourite, Fasha Sandra. But i guessed when i held Kak Fiza's baby girl close to my chest, something tells me she'll grow up to be as wonderful as her name.

Syifa'.

Simply that. Nothing more, nothing less. Five single letters. Syifa'. If that ain't beutiful, i dunno what is.

Okay...so I've decided to reappear. Suprising, yes, but even more surprising is how i weren't there to blog down that intersting trip to genting. But oh wells, we're long back...and we longed to be back, if you know what i mean.

I can't believe i've gone through so much in such a short period of time. So much, that i dreamt about it and cried about it every night.

God, give me strength.

Spongebobby Love

2008-01-21T01:04:00.000+08:00

"Apasal Siti Nurhaliza tak korek hidung pakai jari nie? *helds up index finger*
"Pasal dier suke korek pakai jari laen?"
*shakes head*
"Pasal dier memang tak korek hidung nye orang?"
*shakes head*
"Pasal dier punyer pasal ah."
*stiffles laughters and shakes head*
"Aku tak tau lah sak! Apasal?"
*smiles irritatingly* "Pasal nie jari aku lah, bodoh."

When i'm dead tired-hungry plus feeling like i'm gonna sink in anyone's lap and fall asleep, i don't really laugh or even try to. No matter how funny the situation at the moment is, all i'll do is offer a tired smile. But i gotta admit that crankiness at 4am in the morning mixed with Azri Ali's corky jokes, it's the remedy to get me laughing despite the drowsiness i'm feeling. If i had a hat, i would take it off to Azri. But unfortunately, i don't wear hats, nor do i wear caps or any other item you cover your head with. I do wear helmets though. Okay then, i'll take off my helmet to you, dude. Cheers.

I'm being a little racist to my non-malay readers, am i not? So here's a little translation to you nice people who are nice enough to drop by my little nice blog and read my super nice entries.

"Why didn't Siti Nurhaliza dig her nose using this index finger?" *helds up index finger*
Answers from me and the riders:
"Because she liked her other fingers better?"
"Because she never dig her nose before anyway?"
"Because that's her damn problem lah she want to dig her nose using what finger."
Upon reaching this part of the whole conversation, Azri was already trying to fight off a fit of giggles. His answer finally?
"Because this is my finger, stupid."

I think Ali's sons are all funny and cute; especially my darling Azfar. But i still prefer Ahmad's eldest son though. =) Nobody beats him and nobody tops him. Nobody at all. Totally irreplaceable. And i could go on and on and on, if only i was certain you wouldn't puke all over the desktop. But i won't take the risk. So if you really wanna noe now much i love my boyfriend, feel free to drop me an sms. Each sms cost 5 cents and users below 18 yrs old, please get consent from parents. Thank you darlas.

Fridays and Saturdays are my closing shifts. Plus my off day on Sunday, it had only been three days since i last worked with my openers. And already, i'm missing them truckloads. My favourite pair of cousins and little miss fairy; i'm looking forward to seeing their antics at work again. It's not helping that as days pass, i'm hating my boss more and more. But that's okay, i've got my beanies to compensate for it all. Wished Nad and Sab would work often, though. Cafe's no life either, without them girls.

So anyway, tell me. If you eat durian and out come the seeds, what would you get out of a pineapple?

"Spongebob Squarepants lah sey! Dier kan live in a pineapple right under the sea."

it's our rights

2008-01-18T16:11:00.000+08:00

I don't think our cafe needs beanies or staff.

They need robots and slaves. And i'm not gonna go ranting on and on about all those shit work has been giving me because honestly, i'd rather talk about the SAW IV movie Kid and I bought at Johore yesterday. But apparently whatever happen affected me so strongly because i see McCafe as my second home. I see my beanies as an extended part of my family. So as Nadiah would suggest, GIVE UP ALREADY PEOPLE. Let's do coffee bean.

Oh yea, go ahead. Call me a traitor. Call me a hypocrite, and every variation thereof. But unless you work in a customer service line, and having to swallow the motto of customers being always right, then you'd understand what i mean. I said before that my customers are my life. True. But it's a thin line between life and death; or so it seems.

I can never find any other job compared to the flexibility of the job i have at the moment. And yes i'm grateful to the bosses for that and i understand that you pay me, so i gotta work for you, under you, and listen to you if i wanna stay on the job. But don't dream of me licking your shoes. I don't stoop so low. You can pay me just 2 bucks per hour; i don't fucking care. I still clean up my cafe because i spend more time there than at home, and i've got the lovelies and most adorable bunch of brothers and sisters there. If only the bosses understand that we ACTUALLY do work. Whether you see it or not is your own damn problem! Think. If the cafe is so super filthy, would anyone come to work and stay in a place so dirty? I think they forgot for a moment that they are hiring HUMANS, not chimpanzees.

It's simple the case of wrong place, wrong time. When i'm cleaning up and polishing surfaces here and there, i don't see any bosses coming over to look upon me and pat me on the back. But when i'm a little tired, and decided to take a sit...here they march, lecturing why we're slacking.

It's a hard life to live. You gotta please everybody. Gotta please the bosses, the managers and the customers. So much so that you ain't even got time to please yourself. But too bad. We have to reach to the standard that those people on top wants us too. So let's all stand upright, plaster a fake smile on your face and sway to jazz music. Let's hide that you're on the verge of breaking up with your boyfriend, your mother is dead sick at home and you're owing over a thousand bucks to loansharks.

It's the company's policy. TO WORK HERE, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU HAVE AN EMOTIONAL RANGE OF A TEASPOON.

Saddening much that our human's rights are violated because we need the one thing that makes the world goes round.

And i remembered Prakash words asking what would i do if i had a cafe. Hmmm. Me? I wouldn't care if my bosses or my customers hate me. As long as i know all my crews and baristas love me.

That's enough to sooth my soul before the world ends.

Toast To Work

2008-01-16T11:54:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, a pitiful lady came over behind McCafe counter bars and handed us a little flyer. It claimed that she had lost her dog and would pay handsomely to anyone that found it. And then something Ayman said made me think. What if Belang jumped out and flipped its way out of the house. Can i make a flyer looking for it?

Oh.

Didn't i mention?

Belang is a fish.

It's sad that sometimes we get so attached to these animals, they're almost a part of us. Family; we even call them. I think i should let Belang sleep in my bed.

Side tracking a little, my dte darlings have been tagging nonstop, forcing me to update. And as i read and reread their blogs, i think we working at cafe have no life. No. Scratch that. Cafe IS our life. And hence we eat, sleep, drink and BLOG all about cafe. It's saddening much. But it's a truth we gotta swallow. And what's real always hurt, doesn't it? So in response to that i'd say this - I would happily recommend working at McCafe to every other person i see along the road. Why? Because together, i believe we could bring down those bosses and their shallowness.

I for one make a point to appear to be very chipper around the customers since Flora insist that we polish up our customer service. So last week i even went a whole day chatting and starting conversations with people from all walks of life. But just to make it clear, that doesn't mean i don't hate you. I just find amusement in the way you share about your life sometimes.

The other day a customer ordered three sets of chunky chicken meal, and she came equipped with a story: "My daughter Meili will eat all of this chickens. She loves it. Well. She's not REALLY my daughter. But she doesn't KNOW she's not my daughter. So I think I'll give her her favourite meal, and then tell her."

My verbal response was, "Awww..okay." My brain's response was, "You might want to get your daughter a real hen instead of a $6.30 dead chicken before you tell her she's not your real daughter, but whatever."

Our customers are our life. And it's our job to provide good service. But when you have no staff, you get no service. So my advice to McCafe bosses? Put your beanies, baristas and crews' welfare as your top priorities. Happy beanies equals to great service. Fun, jovial beanies equals to quality service. Beanies who loved the working environment and loved their managers comes to work with positive attitude. But crews whom you scold because their hair is all over the place, because they vandalise on boards, and because they wouldn't smile all the time, would feel fucked up and fucked and screwed your service up.

So if you're still sane bosses, i think you'd be smart enough to choose.

And one more thing. If you dare treat my riders like they are your 15-year-old Macdonald crews, i would hate you for life.

I swear.

Woo Hoo No More

2008-01-03T21:48:00.001+08:00

You know how you feel so attached to a certain someone or something, eventhough it's only a short period of time, and now it seems so funny not to have it around? That's exactly how i'm feeling at the moment. I'm really gonna miss you. Your sudden voice accompanying me as i'm doing opening. And your cute repetitions that even made Reeve record it for keepsake. Oh Toddy Yuuuuu-hoooo, machine, where art thou. Now i won't have people coming over to cafe to change for a dollar coin. Be back next year Christmas Toddy, please...

*looking into SCRATCH* "Where is she sia?"
"Your friend?"
"My cousin. She works here."
"Ohh. My cousin worked at downtown east too."
"Oh really? Where?"
"Urm. McCafe? Ayman?"

And i wondered why Sab always go, "Kenaper kau nie se-lowww sangat?" Alright Jane, i understand i'm a bit out-of-the-world sometimes, but atleast i know that the Britney singing in our cafe is a FAKE and an immitation of the real Mrs 'Ex-Federline' Spears. One day just come down to cafe with Azri, sit directly below the speaker and listen alright.

Oh yea, haven't i wished you a happy new year? Well, here it goes then. HELLO 2008!! Countdown at downtown was hectic, even though i wasn't in D'Marquee partying on with Sleeq; i was behind McCafe counters dammit, working my butts off. But in my opinion, it was the best countdown ever. Singing 'No No' at the top of our voices, counting down and screaming like hell even though two of our bosses are there, sipping illegal drinks away from the eyes of our managers and knowing that as 2008 approaches, we're all here, one big family of non-relations. I couldn't ask for more.

My baby boy came down to fetch me too, starting off 2008 perfectly. Let's all hold hands and wished that this year brings only the best. Genting's up next, then our engagement! When i get my wishes all fulfilled, i will pay downtown east to bring Toddy back.

And before i pay my pillow and Ronaldo a visit, here's somethng for you Jane Tan something-something (whatever your chinese name is).

Now THAT'S Britney, gal! Listen well, and learn! Yuuuuuhoooooo Woooooohhhooo. (Gosh i really miss him, you know.)

Simple Peaceful Fun

2007-12-30T17:18:00.000+08:00

"Tu pompan ke lelaki, b?"
"Pompan lah."
"Muhd Zaidi sey."
"Name lelaki dier gaknye. Dulu tarntah name dier Zainab ker."
"OH. Kau memperkotak-katikkan name nenek aku eh."
"Memperko - what?"
"Memperkotak-katik."
*blanks face*
"Takpe k baby. Go buy your meltz."

I swear he gives up on me sometimes. Though his malay is obviously better than mine and my english is WOAH-HIGH-OVER-THE-MOUNTAINS better than his; i still loves how he speaks perfect malay sometimes and although i understand, i still project a blank face. That makes him mad because he's seen my results and he knew i'm a higher malay student, and that means my command of the mother tongue language is better than an average being. And just for the record, i don't even know what an average being would be classifed as.

Yesterday was so tiring; i feel like i've walked from Singapore right to the middle of Old Trafford. Our little trips to top-up fuel at Johore was never this tiring before because we've got a two-wheeled vehicle supporting our weight and exhaustion. Yesterday however, we had to depend on our two little beautiful feet created by God, because the rest of the family tagged along.

The jumping up and down from buses just to stamp our passports was hectic. It made me thankful i'm a Singaporean because their system was much more organised and comfortable. Malaysia's immigration system was chaotic, so much so that Danial lost his temper. "Tolak tolak, aku terajang kepale dier kang. Jgn kater tak dapat masok Malaysia, nak pass gate tu pon tak boleh lah." But then again, he ALWAYS loses his temper. Need to get a hold of his head, that kid.

Reaching Larkin, we rushed to eat because it was "lunch-time" according to Ibu and we're all dead hungry. Kid and I didn't eat much because apparently, we had breakfast at Downwtown Macdonalds before we went off, something we didn't tell Ibu and Nenek. Oh wells, atleast i had fun watching Danial and Kid puffing away, and feeling like i should push Firman off that low railings. MUAHAHA. Bet you wished i'd have gotten run down by a train.

We went to Tok Alang's house at Kampung Datuk Sulaiman right after that; which got me wondering who this big-shot Datuk Sulaiman is to actually have a whole village named after him. (I'm never good at Singapore history, so i won't even try Malaysia's.) During that period, i realised what beautiful peace kampung life has, and how it seems so worry-free.

"Adek nak ice cream?"
"Nak."
"Ice cream ape nak?"
"Calung."
"Huh? Calung tu aper bende sak!"
"CONE LAH B. Calung tu cone."
"Maner aku tau sak! Calung...mampos sey."

I was damn proud of myself for that moment. I actually knew the meaning of that word and my dearest darling who claimed to be cucu Hang Tuah doesn't. I SHOULD RECEIVE A MEDAL FOR THIS.

After meeting plentiful of Kid's aunties and cousins, who indirectly are MY cousins as well (yes i'm related to my boyfriend, how fun), we head off to Giant for some shoppin and oh boy, that was the breaking point of my exhaustion. I collapse in the taxi Kid and I took after the end of it all. But as i held his hand in the cab, i knew despite whatever, we're prepared to go through it all, even if in the process, we might break down and cry.

I love you baby.

So as i once again hugged Ronaldo (the pillow people, not the man!), and typed all of this down, i'm getting ready for a raging war tomorrow at cafe. May the force be with us!

And may the bees disappear. Ack.

Joy To The World

2007-12-28T13:09:00.000+08:00

This morning my brother came screaming into my room, "EH SI BUTO TU DAH MATI!"

I've never heard my younger brother utter profanities before, or atleast not in public or in my presence. So i frowned for a moment and it took me approximately 20 and a half seconds to realised who the BUTO he was talking about. BENAZIR BHUTTO. That president from God knows-what country. The being who Kid and I laughed about throughout the evening in Abg Wan's house. Poor fella. Bhutto's dead, people. Dun forget the flowers okay.

On a much brighter note, (though it still confuses me as though why that Bhuto's death would be a sad note; i mean dammit i don't even know her, and she's miles away in another continent) we went to watch I AM LEGEND yesterday. And the part i love most about the movie? That whole Shrek-memorising dialogue from Dr. Robert Neville. It was hilarious and Will Smitch rocks. Apart from that, nothing that great and nothing too disappointing. And half of the movie my dearest boyfriend have no idea what they're talking about.

=)

I did Mainstore yesterday and oh boy, Irene was Irritating. But it was about the same only twenty times much hotter than cafe. And if you've noticed, i actually have no idea what else to blog about. I can't wait for Genting, and i've got plans on what to buy. And something tells me it's going to be fun fun fun.

And i got that Adidas shorts i wanted so much. JOY TO THE WORLD.

And It's Christmas

2007-12-26T23:28:00.000+08:00

"Nothing is impossible."
"Oh yea? Try eating a barbie doll."

I find this disturbingly hilarious. What if you've got some egoistic male-chauvinist pig who's always up to prove a point and he really went chewing off Barbie's head? Now that would be interesting, no?

And while still trying to find a little amazement and amusement in this mundane life of mine, i'm brought back to last year's Christmas as Shaw. It's interesting to note how last Christmas i longed to be back at my ex-store, while just yesterday, i felt the Christmas season livened up in Downtown East itself. For the later part of the night...with illegal songs repeating, and crazy usual late-night hours again, it really feels like the season to be jiggly. =)

Now we're busy preparing for the war on the 31st, stocking up things as though Singapore has winter, assigning stations to each and every beanie (something we've never really done.) So Merry Christmas and a happy new year to all.

And if you feel like having some reflections on life and is in again one of your 'chicken-soup-for-the-soul' moments, you can go ahead and watch this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCBjwtN7xgA

If i had a gun, i'd have shoot that girl down.

But then again, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinions, right? So in MY opinion, that is totally uncalled for. I've experienced breaking up in the middle of the road okay, and i don't go screaming at the side of the road, to the jerk in question, as though i paid 20 road taxes, alright. Sure you're emotionally disturbed during that time, but get a hold of your head and don't blow it off, man.

At least not in public. It's some kind of pollution to the eyes and environment too, ya know.

To the guy over the phone - you deserved all that pukimak, sial and every other things she called you, you dickhead. Do yourself a favor, and jump off a cliff please.

To the girl - he's a jerk. We all know that. So don't stoop to his level, don't lose your senses over someone not worth it, keep your head cool so he'd feel worse than you do and please, please, on behalf of all the people in that cabin, SHUT UP.

To the girl's friend - TAK TAU NAK SUMBAT TISSUE DALAM MULUT DIER KAPER? Or atleast hit the emergency brakes or something. Honestly.

Bees Are The In Thing

2007-12-22T22:42:00.000+08:00

I have failed miserably today and i feel so disappointed with myself. That wretched buzzing creature flew in and out like it's father owns McCafe, and though i tried very hard to aim the cloth at it, it was futile attempts on my part. It managed to once again escape my non-existent aiming skills, and flew out from the counter front, probably humming (or buzzing, really) 'Jingle Bells' as it went.

I FUCKING HATE BEES.

Jane have officially made me the bee-exterminator in cafe...so to not be able and kill one, when i clearly saw it flying around, was a upsetting disatisfactory. So sorry Jane love, i guess Boss forgot to tell us that the package needed in order to be a qualified beanie cum barista is good customer service, pleasant physical outlook, self-orientated and absolutely no phobia of bees. Remind me to demand a pay rise.

And remind me to remind Kid to eat those painkillers.

It's hard when your boyfriend sees painkillers as rat poisons that are going to kill him off faster than he can say, "Mat Rempit terus maju!" Honestly. To walk like a penquin, and feel excruciating pain every five seconds due to that uninviting accident, wouldn't you rather get rid of it? Baby i'm begging you. GO TAKE THOSE PAIN KILLERS. They'll kill the pain b...not YOU. Trust. Me. *big sigh*

Downtown McCafe will miss me for tomorrow. Looking forward to working with Jane, Ayman, Joelyn in the morning, and meeting Sab and Ella in the afternoon when they come. I rarely see my three macho closers nowadays, but no fret; Christmas will be here and we'll have our own little Christmas party in the cafe yeah!

My eyes are begging me to go grab that bolster and hug it to bed. Guess i have to succumb to their wants, even though i'd rather have Theodore the Chipmunk or my darling boyfriend (though he'll never be half as cute as Theodore) in my room to hug. For now, have a good night lambs. Dream of Johnny Subway and Joelyn's tattoed-fairy.

INSIDE JOKE. Don't pretend you understand.

I might share it with you though if you get me a cookie. Deal?

Holding On

2007-12-19T18:44:00.000+08:00

Blog titles can be deceiving. Very very deceiving.

While you're thinking that this is probably another one of those "i'm-so-emo-i-should-kill-myself" entries, thanks to my title above, i hate to break it to you guys, but it's not. I'm just still hooked onto Taufik's songs, since it's been replaying again and again in cafe. I know i'm not justifying Hady's win in Asian Idol, but Taufik is more of MY type of music, if you know what i mean. But all in all, like i've said a million times before, and will say it again; i vote myself to be the Support Local Music campaign ambassador. So Hady, it's all okay, i still adore you. =)

Earlier today, my younger brother got his secondary school posting and as expected, he'll be seeing those damned walls along Dunman Road - Tanjong Katong Secondary. Hmm...secondary school...just yesterday i wished that i could go back to that world. But just now, while trying to exterminate bees in cafe, think that God is trying to tell me something.

See, the moments in TK has been brought back to me. The short, five-finger above the knees skirts, affectionately labeled "butt-flaps" by the non-superficial, have arrived just outside my cafe, complete with the rest of the package. This includes the skinny cheerleader-type girls with the typical Barbie doll hair and the peppy, valley girl voice tones. Also having traversed the not-so-perilous road between home and the fast-food restaurant are the flashy, marbley plastic covered cell phones that sing out a few bars of Rihanna's latest every time a call is received.

Joelyn, my fellow colleague cum bitching partner, nudged me, and raised her eyebrows as i smile slightly and watch. Minah #1 just pulled out her cell phone, handed it to Minah #2, and giggled, tossing her chemically altered hair all the while. Minah #2 is now dialing a number written on a small scrap of college-ruled notebook paper and giggling up a storm of her own. Chances are that she has just called a boy. Not that i've seen anything like this before in sceondary school, but hell, i shall watch..

Minah #2 pauses, waiting for someone to pick up, then her eyes widen as she begins to speak.

"Heloo, um, nie Khai kan?" *pause* "Hey! Nie Nurul lah! Ingat tak?"

Minah #1 mouths, "Dier ingat? DIER INGAT TAKK??"

Minah #2 shakes her head and continues talking in her high-pitched voice, "Alah, yang last week tu. Time pat canteen. Yang ur friend kacau2 kite. Ahh. A'ah! Betol lah."

She covers the phone and squeals, "Dier ingat aku!" and quickly put the phone back up to her ear, while Minah #1 claps in excitement for her friend's outstanding achievement – jarring a memory in a boy's mind…

The scene progresses as i stood there at the counter, watching in utter astonishment that i had even considered wanting to go back to that. How well i remember those days, when the biggest thing to worry about was scoring a 75% on the that english test in order to acquire a passing grade, but the only thing anyone really did worry about was...

"OI ADEK. Nie tempat kite org tau."

...not stepping on the seniors' domain. And not having that last little piece of hair that it took hours to work into the ever-so-stylish hairdo not come flying out when talking to the most popular football player in school. And above all, staying cool enough for acceptance by wearing illegal disapproved ankle-length socks.

It's still very clear to me. The days on end when the girl, who daddy sent her to school with the most expensive cars you can't even afford the steering wheel, would walk into literature class flaunting her new NIKE 'supposedly' school shoes. Every third Monday of each month, in she would come...

"I throw away that Adidas shoe lah! So dirty sia...make us run around the field. Stupid P.E."

"Wah. Then new shoe ah? How much sia?"

"Super cheap, i tell you. $75 bucks only."

Yes...shallowness abounded. But deep in the recesses of the small classrooms and locker areas were those of us who decided that...

"I swear I am never going to buy anything for $75 unless it's large...like a vacuum or something."

We were the ones that became disgusted with the trauma-drama of who a certain girl dumped when and why and where and how. Sure, we were all each other had, but everyone still knew who we were. If we felt like singing during recess, we'd sing at recess. If we felt like dancing ot that RnB tune on the benches by the sink, we'd throw ourselves into a freestyle mode. But since we weren't popular, people wouldn't even laugh at us. They'd give us the "you're-so-lame-why-are-you-within-7-feet-of-my-personal-space" look. But we didn't care, did we?

So I used to think that we'd prevail in the end! And that justice would reign! And those skinny little girls that got picked for the school's talentime because they were the beautiful people that listened to hip-hop and drank soda and ate McDonalds every day yet never gained an ounce would twist their ankles on their platform shoes and land flat on their butts in front of the cutest guy in school!

But alas, that's not it worked out...

...because now as I look back upon those "golden years," I see that we were all searching for what was the right thing to do. Do you lie to your parents and sneak out after curfew to meet that sec.4 guy down the street or do you make sure that your relationship with family stays strong? Do you not wear Sketchers because the entire school is wearing them or do you just not care and do what you feel like doing, even if it does mean going along with the crowd once in a while?

And that's the way it's been forever and probably will always be. Those of us who haven't stopped searching, really searching, know how to help, and we need to. And that's something I myself need to do...

"AAAGGGHHH!"

Minah #2 just spilled her Hot Choc onto her white skirt while she was busy giggling on the phone. Minah #1 just looks on in dismay then blinks and jumps up, throwing a napkin at her friend and shrieking, "SIAL AH KAU!"

I smiled to myself and proceed to make another jug of coffee base. Someday they'll grow up. And when they did...

...they'll look on, hummed to the Singapore Idol of that season (if the Idol series stays that long) and blog it down, like i just did.

Brand New Feeling

2007-12-17T09:37:00.000+08:00

"That is a performance worthy of World Idol."

That was Dick Lee in the first ever season of Singapore Idol during 2004. And it was during that period when i first started litty-witty.blogspot.com, and then on to watch-me-kill.blogspot.com. After a few years of online blogging, i've moved yet again to experience a new blogskin, new blog name and a completely brand new feeling. And yes, this is where you go "bobal macam real," but trust me, it took a lot to get that wretched skin up and running. My fingers are tired of those html-shit that all i wanna do now is lie back and let Taufik Batisah sing me to sleep.

Ah. Yes. Taufik. The dramatic significance of my first ever entry in Insanity Worths. I had YouTube to entertain me when i get bored waiting for my darling's call, and hence i stumbled upon old Idol clips during the Taufik-Olinda-Sly batch. Dick Lee's comments on Taufik's competition hit me so deep that for the second i wondered why it wasn't him who represented us in Asian Idol.

And though our water supply might be cut off by ever-jealous Malaysia when OUR Hady emerged tops against their Jaclyn Victor and the idols from Philippines, Indon, India and Vietnam, i congratulate Ken Lim for having enough faith in the crooner to choose him instead of Taufik. Because Batisah's son, in my opinion, has gone beyond Asian Idol. True to Dick's words, he's worth that WORLD IDOL title.

So all in all, congrats Hady Mirza for that completely unexpected win. You made Asia, Singapore and Taufik proud. Now go sujud syukur, go go go.

What bliss life is when things just go your way. Hady's expression when he was announced winner, was completely priceless. Much like my darling's cramped face when Tevez scored that goal for my Devils.

EAT YOUR HEARTS OUT, TORRES.

Bet you wished you should have joined Man U and donned that AIG jersey instead. Well, as they say, the best team and the best man wins.

Now as i watched myself typing in this little box, while listening to Taufik's "Berserah" and "Holding On" (yes darlas, AT THE SAME TIME), i feel like i just had a double win, though none of it affected me directly.

Glory Glory Hady Mirza. Justified Singapore Idol winner, now? Probably. Infact, an Asian Idol even. An upset victory for many. But the man DESERVED it. Just like how my Red Devils deserved that win over Liverpool. I FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL GOOD! Nanananananana...

But, ehem ehem, at the end of the day...

...Taufik Batisah is still my man.