The Matter Is...

Muddy

Silence is golden...

but heck.

Rules are meant to be broken. ;)

falling

beautiful

being single for so long has caused me to wonder whether love truly exist and whether in the greater scheme of things, i am to fall inlove. when work takes you over and you go through routine, and when there are no longer true surprises in your life, you just accept that those things are not real.

you become cold. allergic. cynic.

that's how i felt until i went on youtube and found alicia key's new song, "like you never see me again." it's funny how a song changed me over. it literally stopped me in my tracks and made me go...

wow...

i really do want to fall inlove again.

spend time with yourself

the original mood setter

there are times and days when i feel like spending time all by myself.

sometimes, it would be in a remote neighborhood mall, with my laptop and my favorite on-the-go mocha latte at hand, and i would surf for hours satorialist's blog to understand what true style means.

other times, i would spend a good hour or so at the gym working on the areas that need to be toned (alert : tummy) and just bask in the steam room to relax.

also many times, i would go over to the bakery at ikano to eat the usual (flying chicken sandwich + orange juice on the rocks) and read cover-to-cover the latest details mag.

i personally feel that at those times, there is feeling of peace which i love. it's the spending time to reflect, to be at ease with your self, which i feel makes me feel more...in love with living.

because i know, if you don't like spending with yourself, then who would?

(ps : marvin gaye crooning at the background makes me wish i was a singer...)

High Five!

Well hello there...

There are a couple of new posts I wanted to publish today - very deep, very personal stuff. But, as usual, I got distracted and felt more obligated to Khaylis to fill up this freakin' meme.

So enjoy!

5 things in my wallet
1. My drivers with a decent pic of myself
2. My identity card with an obviously i-partied-last-night-and-i-am-doing-this-MyKad-at-9am pic of myself
3. Two credit cards from differing banks
4. Fitness First membership card
5. San Francisco Coffee loyalty card
* I wanted to put cash in here but it's too miniscule to be mentioned here. huhu.

5 things in my room
1. A creaking Ikea bed
2. Stacks of CDs (i am very old school)
3. A rackful of a) office clothes and b) others
4. Rows of white, designer sneakers
5. Cologne

5 things i need to do
1. Remain composed
2. Remain sane
3. Download the latest episode of Heroes
4. Watch Britney's "comeback" performance on YouTube
5. Save some money for Beyonce's concert

5 things i am doing
1. Avoiding a certain someone at the office
2. Replying emails, emails and emails
3. Attending meetings
4. Yawning
5. Looking for inspiration

Ta-da!

I tag all the sexy people who commented in my last post. ;)

Move Move

If only boxes can pack themselves...

Moving into the new house proved to be a great form of physical and mental exercise. Physical in the sense of moving around the furniture and packing up the endless amount of vases, picture frames and other knick knacks which I never thought my family had. And mental in terms of planning out where the old stuff should be to coincide peacefully with the new ones.

Another mental exercise I had to go through was going through the costs of moving and purchasing of new things. As the self-appointed accountant during this period, I realized that stuff for the house can be so damn expensive.

For example, the refrigerator. So damn expensive.

The curtains? It is equivalent of a down payment for a new Lancer!

And don’t forget the flat screen TV because all houses need flat screen TVs.

Now I understand why my parents had always gone through their sets of squabbles whenever we had to move house in the past. Because someone had to be the accountant and provide restraints, when the other one just wanted to get that designer chair for who knows where. This time my parents are smart. They left the headache to me, and I am squinting as they go “oh look, this should be nice for the house”.

Oh really???

After calculating the total costs, I realized that the egg nest my parents had set aside for purchasing goods for the new home was a little short. I told my parents this and recommended that they take a short term loan to cover some quick but much needed expenses like settling the 20% balance of installing the kitchen costs or the 10% balance for the new security system they had just installed. Unsurprisingly, they threw the Frisbee back to me and recommended that I take out the short term loan on their behalf.

What the???

So, a few Fridays back, I took the day off to go visit the nearby Standard Chartered bank to apply for a short term loan for my family. The consultant named Jeslyn calculated openly my net worth and reviewed the details in my spending.

“Do you have any other loans?” she asked.

No. No car loans. No house loans. Just credit cards. So, basically, I am a loan virgin. Hahaha.

She did not laugh. “You pay on time?”

Always.

“Okay.” Calculate calculate calculate.

I was staring at a plant on her table when suddenly she said, “Wow, you personal trainers make a lot of money, huh?”

I looked at her blankly when she added, “Which gym do you work at?”

Gym? Did she just say gym?

I’m sorry, I said with all seriousness. I am not a personal trainer. I am a brand analyst at a very good company!

I look at her dead in the eye, insulted that she thought I was a him-bo. Sheesh! But perhaps it was the loan virgin joke that made her think that way? To cover it up, I began to detail my job experiences, the seriousness of my job scope, because damn it, I wanted her to take me seriously.

“We will call you when the loan has been approved,” she said. And just like that, I left the bank with the biggest dent to my ego.

WishList

Ku De Ta at Night

(Inspired by Khaylis WishList)

Hot mocha in on-the-go paper cup from San Fran Coffee in the morning
Cool, breezy and jam free days in KL
Wide and beautifully tiled sidewalks in the city
Lounging with friends on wide beach chairs at night at Ku De Ta, Bali
A forever clean, never-need-to-be-washed sports car
The ability to build a wooden table or bed from scratch
Sunday brunches with family
Watching Malaysian sports men and women winning gold in the Olympics
The complete DVD of Dungeons & Dragons cartoon
Suits from Michael Kors
And, very like Khaylis, a good dose of self-confidence

Define

Grounds to Play

My family will be moving into a new neighborhood soon.

Last Saturday, we visited the new house to see the contractors fix in the light fixtures in the living room and the media room. After twenty minutes of watching and scrutinizing the contractors at work, Ma sat on the staircase to read Vogue Living, while Pa stared at the garden from the balcony, probably devising a mental blueprint on where to plant the orchids. My ten-years-old brother and I, on the other hand, immediately escaped the madness by going to the playground nearby our new home.

We went straight to the swings, and we laughed as we swung higher and higher. “I’m flying to the moon!” my baby brother hollered. I laughed harder. Seconds later, I noticed my baby brother slowed down his swinging pace to watch these two small girls cycle into the playground.

Your girlfriends? I asked.

“Shut up”, my baby brother said. I laughed again.

The little girls cycled towards us and then stopped. They stared at my baby brother. They quickly glanced at each other and then cycled away. That was creepy, I thought.

Minutes later the playground was dotted with little boys and girls, and I noticed how quickly my brother ran into one of the soccer games and played. I sat on the swing, alone, and wondered whether I would make any new friends in this new neighborhood.

But honestly, I thought to myself, when was the last time I made a new friend?

Let me think.

Hmm…

You got to be kidding me.

Maybe it is my fault that I have not made a new friend lately. I am not a snob, if you are thinking that, but I have to admit that it is quite difficult now days to meet anyone new that jives with my wavelength. For example, I love to laugh. There are, however, some people who I have met recently who would say things like, “Wow, you love to laugh huh?” And the strangest part is that it sounded like it was a bad thing, like I had rabies and had peeling scabs off my face. That’s just absurd.

I love to laugh. So what. It’s my thing. So leave it the fuck alone.

Okay, perhaps this sort of attitude won’t make me new friends. But I guess I have come to a place where I feel like I do not need to resort to being a person that fits to someone else’s standard. If I want to laugh, let me be. If I want to pick my nose, you better let me be. But, if I have to act and behave according someone else’s guidelines, I rather walk out and not even bother to start the friendship in the first place.

I guess this is the reason why I hold on to my friends because they let me be me. And they have been there for me. They say “will be there” when I texted them for lunch on Sundays. They say “I am so sorry” when I tell them my brother had an asthma attack. They say “it is okay” when I tell them my heart was broken. And because of this, I consider them as my friends.

“Hey,” my baby brother said to me, with trails of sweat falling down his face. “I want to go inside for a drink. Thirsty.”

You had fun?

“Yeah he said,” as he waved to the kids at the soccer field.

Your friends?

“Yeah,” he panted.

I took his hands and we walked back to our new home, with me keeping silent that when he grows up, his definition of a friend will truly change.