Furball Got Her Claws

Picked this up from Eileen.

Message: You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

Not as easy as you might think.

Where is your cell phone ?
Sofa

Your hair?
Brown

Work?
Challenging

Your father?
Dead

Your favorite thing?
Men!!!

Your dream last night?
None

Your favorite drink?
Water

Your dream car?
Vios

The room you’re in?
Quiet

Your pet?
Died

Your fears?
Birds

What do you want to be in 10 years?
Retired

Where did you hang out last night?
Home

What you’re not good at?
Lying

Eyebrow rings on the opposite sex?
Sure

Where you grew up?
Malacca

The last thing you did?
Washing

What are you wearing?
Pareo

what aren’t you wearing?
Underwear

Your computer?
On

Your life?
Changed

Your mood?
Sleepy

Missing?
Booze

What are you thinking about right now?
This

Your favorite color?
Red

When is the last time you laughed?
Yesterday

Last time you cried?
Forgot

School?
Rocks!

REPOST AS " 1 WORD QUIZ "

Errr….. Do I looked married? The past couple of months I have been mistaken a few times for being married. It’s just that people assume that I am. Maybe it is an Asian thing.

Today I had another such occasion. Susan, who owns Common, thought I was married. She was surprised when I told her I have never been married.

My take on marriage - great if you can find the right person but if you can’t find one then it is better to be single.

I am NOT pregnant but am certainly acting like one who is having bad cravings. How did this happened?

Last Saturday, I headed to Gombak to work on my food guide. There is a place called Nasi Ayam Mancongkam which Siti and I could not find the first time we were there. Thanks to Fahmi, Siti’s hubby, who gave near perfect direction, Marcus, Azlina and I found it. It’s located just after Ong Tai Kim Supermarket. You can’t miss it cos its on the main road.

People who know me well, know that chicken is not my favourite food. And I hardly ever eat chicken rice when in Kl cos I like the Malacca chicken rice balls better cos I can eat them without having to eat the chicken. (Just to boast a little, my record was 40 balls at a single seating. Hehehe!)

I had my reservation about this nasi ayam. But work is work. When our orders arrived the aroma of the rice stirred my senses - aromatic and rich. The rice looked moist enough. I ate a spoonful and found that the flavours were subtle and the rice was not oily. The balance was just right. I ate the chicken garing which was fried and again I was impressed. The outside was only slightly crispy while the juices were sealed in.

The flavour just grew and grew on me and before I realised it, I have eaten most of the rice and chicken. It was truly one of the nicer Malay version of chicken rice that I have eaten. Is it any wonder that mancongkam (this is the Negeri Sembilan slang for mencengkam) means gripping?

The thought of that chicken rice has been nagging at me since Saturday. Its terrible. It bugs my every waking minute and I can still taste the chicken rice. I had wanted to stop by at Satellite Chicken rice for dinner before class last night but decided against it cos I don’t think my classmates will appreciate my breath smelling of chicken rice in that small room.

Well, am about to get chicken rice for lunch (even though I brought lunch from home - mutton curry pasta). I have sent Marcus on a mission to buy me some and he is coming back with a box. Bless him!

As for Nasi Ayam Mancongkam, I am sure I will be heading there soon. Nak ikut?

Got a call at 7am from home today. I freaked out because early morning calls often meant bad news. Mum on the other end calmly told me that our home has been burglarised and wants to know if I kept any cash or valuables in my cupboards.

I headed home immediately. The scene that greeted me was NOT NICE!. The rooms were in complete mess - all the cupboards and drawers were emptied. The cupboard in the hall suffered same fate.

My uncle Fook was around to fix the kitchen door and window grilles - the thieves had broken in from there. Was and am glad that mum was not home during the break-in. She had spent the night at my amachi’s. Am ever so grateful to God for that. I dare not even imagine what she would have gone through had she been at home when those bastards came in.

The police came for a look and told my mum that there are many break-ins these days. Duh? The point? And then went on to tell her that Bukit Baru has even more break-ins. The point again?! To cap it off, he told her that good thing she was not at home because they could have held her at knife point. Errr… I think we know that and don’t need you to tell us. I believed that the IGP should send his men to some PR courses.

While mum cleared her room, I sorted mine out. I was royally pissed. Books everywhere, letters that I have tied with ribbons were thrown all over the room and my two drawers were emptied. I got nothing valuable but it pissed me that some bastards went through my things. My lost were a brass piggy bank in the shape of kangaroo that is as old as I am - they chopped off poor kangaroo’s head to get the coins - and they took my dad’s pair of loafer that I have kept all these years. I also found my stack of Smash Hits and Number one which I have forgotten. Each one of them had features of Jason Donovan - hehehe - I was a huge fan. I threw the stack out today.

Mum lost some gold bracelets and a jade bangle that she had been wanting to keep in the bank but have not found time to go. They also took a few bottles of liquor.

While cleaning my sis’s room, I stumbled into a pile of clothes which I thought was my bro’s but it turned out to be my dad. For the life of me I thought that we had given them away. It brought back many memories as some of those shirts were really familiar. I told mum about it and asked if she wanted to do something with them. "Keep first. Some of those shirts are new," she said. Dad passed on in 1992. I stacked them back into the cupboard but took his pyjama bottom. Dad is slightly taller than me so the bottom fits well. He would have cringed in horror if he knows that I am going to wear his pyjama bottom. He very Chinaman lah. Daughter wearing dad’s pants is an absolute no-no!

I also found his wallet in the pile of mess. Gosh! It brought back memories alright. There were bills from restaurants that he ate in a few days before his passing. There were also his credit cards and passport.

I have kept them all away. Booze, they didn’t touch your Swatch collection. You will have to come back and sort your things lah. I did my best to keep everything in the boxes and cupboards. Didn’t throw any of your stuff.

Our game plan for now is to put in a alarm system and have sensor lights. Mum is getting the priest to come bless the house again and is putting up crosses at front and back door.

Our neighbourhood had always been a peaceful one. We have lived there since 1982 and only of recent years that we hear of crimes. Apparently one of the houses facing mine was broken into last week. Sigh.

My wish for the thieves - may you live a long and miserable life, may pain and suffering follow you everyday of your life, may you be plagued with sickness and may every mishap be your constant companion.

Today is my first day in Bukit Jelutong office. The magazine unit was made to move here and so here we are in this industrial-like office. Tiled floor with stark white walls. I feel like a minah karan - just need a set a uniform for the complete look.

I was really upset when we came here yesterday to sort out our access. Coming from a sophisticated building, we were horrified to see squat toilets. Then there was this bunch of men at the cafeteria who checked out our friend Patin with unmasked desire. Scary!!!! Did I mention that women are a minority here?

I got lost going home last evening and then I had to endure a 40 minutes queue at the tol because I don’t have touch n go.

Coming to work this morning was weird. The building is lifeless and deserted unlike Menara that is bustling with life and action. There is hardly a soul in sight.

They have transported our boxes here but can’t unpack until we get our cupboard keys. Siti and I checked out the nearby makan shops and let’s just say I will not go there again. Have to check out other alternatives.

I have to get home early just so I can buy the touch n go at the Plus office. Hopefully I don’t get lost again while trying to find my way to the highway.

Am I depress? Well not as much as I was yesterday but I am certainly not cheery. It will take me a while to get use to this inner Mongolia.

My dearest Bap,

It’s almost a year now since you left so suddenly. I miss you so much. Not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. How’s things there? Built more koi ponds in between your coffee breaks? What do you do to fill your days - err if there is such thing as day concept there?

I still have you number on my phone. There are still days that I wished you are at the end of the line - like you used to be. I knew I could run to you when I need to talk.

I didn’t do too well after you left. It was hard at first - lots of guilt for taking you for granted and to top it off I missed you so badly. I am doing much better now. The couple of dreams - happy ones - that I had of you gave me some peace. I know you are in a better place and is watching over me.

Eileen and I still can’t bring ourselves to walk into Teapot Cafe because there is too much memories. I had this terrible cravings for their mee bandung and scones a few months back. Spoke to Eileen about it and she said she don’t think she could go there just yet. I thought about it and I realised that I could not do it too. Going to Teapot Cafe without you will be odd.

Recently and even now, I was and am faced with some crossroads in my life. I so wished you were here because I know I can count on you to help me make the right decisions. You and your practicality and wisdom would have helped me navigate my routes. You were my best friend and father and you always know what was best for me.

I am sorry that I have not kept in touch with Jenny. There have been many times that I had wanted to call her but I could not because I just don’t know what to say to her.

On a lighter note, S.Gaya is getting married next weekend. Some of us went to her engagement ceremony and had a good time catching up. It was the first time for some of us to meet after you left because we are all so bad at planning makan-makan unlike you. Besides you were that glue that held all of us together and we can’t resists you.

I love you Bap and I certainly hope that we will meet again. Until then, know that you have taken a piece of my heart with you and I miss you so badly.

Love you forever and ever.

Tagged Again!!

I gave up eating pork during Lent. Except for the 3 occasion during Lent that I ate pork dishes as part of my work requirement, I did not eat any again until a couple of nights ago.

Med and Eric took me out to dinner and ordered the roast ribs that I so enjoyed in the past. Sorry Med, although I ate the dish I didn’t enjoyed it like I used to. In fact the sight of roast pork or char siew does not give me thrills like it used to anymore. This is alarming as this may mean that I may not continue to indulge in that passionate relationship with my pork seller, no more suckling pigs at big Chinese dinners and I wonder if I will be thrilled to the bones at the sight of siow bee in bamboo steamers at the Open Air in Kuching.

Is this what volunteered abstinence does to one? Perhaps I should head down to Tengkat Tung Shin and visit my favourite char siew man and see if that could put the thrill into me or maybe I should go eat the delicious and well executed non-halal dim sum in Concorde KL or alternatively I should drive to Tuck Kee and indulge in the 600g big pau filled with pork.

Life without pork, I found, was not as difficult as I had imagined but I just didn’t realised that I would lose my desire for it.

I met my friend Amelia in the lift just now. Even though we work in the same building, I have not seen her in a while. My first question to her is always "How’s Shakira?". Shakira is her first grandchild. Today is no difference. I posed the same question.

With great reluctance, Amelia told me that Shakira had passed on a year ago in a car accident. She was flung out of the car and did not survived. Her parents suffered injuries. Amelia said that she could not bring herself to break the news to me. I was and am still upset.

I met Shakira when she was just about a year old. Amelia had brought her to our CPU party. She told us that Shakira parents had named her after the singer. Just like her namesake, Shakira could also do the bum shake. Over the years, I see Shakira on and off when Amelia brings her to the office and she always do that little shake for me.

Gosh, I am feeling rather overwhelmed right now but I am glad that she is in a better place. Rest in peace little one.

It’s 2pm and and my brain is dead after a delicious nasi campur lunch. I wish I am at home in bed with the aircon on, a good book in hand, a cup of tea on my side table and in the arms of George Clooney who is nibbling my ears and neck while I read.

That’s why I dream to be a tai tai - the kind that husband opens a Swiss bank account for her, vacation every alternate months and work only for pleasure. Life will be bliss - I can imagine jet setting to Bali to sunbathe, Paris to visit the Lurve or sail the around the Greek islands since I love the sea so much. I can work whenever I chooses to and on topics that are close to my heart- which can be fluffy or down right serious like the country’s state of affairs. My tai tai life will also permit me to go back to school to study history and politics.

Hubby should ideally be a nice and considerate man who will not demand too much of me, not question my credit card statements at the end of each month and will not expect me to socialise with those fluffy Mak Datins. In return, I will, when possible, cook him meals that he will boast about and will spend as wisely as possible. I think that make a sensible ground for marriage. Not too demanding on each other.

And until that dream happens (angan-angan Mat Jenin lah ni), I shall continue to imagine that sexy old George Clooney is in my bed. It sure helps to keep the brain moving on a sleepy Tuesday afternoon when the deadlines are colliding.