She who walks the dog

Half past eleven.

The heavy electric gate drags itself aside, making an exit for the girl and the dog.

The girl, invariably dressed up.
She usually appears in one-pieced dress, and a pair of flippers which looks totally out of place.
Sometimes she will be spotted in short A-lined skirts, with the blouse or the shirt tucked in, attempting to pull out the quirky look.

The dog, a Shih Tzu.
He is not overweight, but those fluffy hair gives the impression of otherwise.
He has a small bunch of coconut-leaves like hair over his head, thanks to his owner.
Oh by the way, he doesn't look very intelligent.
Well, how smart can he be when he ranks 70th among other breeds when it comes to working/obedience intelligence?

The duo doesn't make much of noise when they walk together.

Sometimes, when the girl feels fat, she would exclaim 'come Carpy!' in a very high pitch, and starts running.
The fluffy creature would then run after her.

Sometimes, when the fluffy creature steps into some prohibited area, say, neighbours' front yard garden,
the girl pulls up an angry look, and says 'Carpy, no.' in an exceptionally low tone.

As if the dog can see her face when he is busy marking his territory.
As if the dog can understand that low tone implies unhappiness when he is busy peeing.

Then, the girl would pull the strings which tied around the dog, without any hard feeling.
The dog would usually reluctantly follow the girl after some useless struggles.

If it stays stoned, the girl would just scoop the dog up.

Advantage of having a small dog.

'Come Carpy!'
'Carpy, no.'
Tinkling keys.
Tapping paws.
Tapping feet.

The midnight cacophony.
Too soft to form noise pollution,
but too loud to be ignored by the curious souls.

Every single night, without fail.

And then.

At the front door, the monochrome image of the girl is framed and placed at the entrance.
A white casket is placed in the middle of the front yard.
The girl is resting in the casket, the face is as peaceful as if she had been treated some rejuvenating yogurt facial treatment.

No wreath, the scene looks plain and dull, but this is what she has requested.
She is lying in her comfortable black tee and jeans, and a pair of pumps, as what she has requested.
Not her usual way dressing, but again, her family wants her requests to be obliged.
Some guests wonder, will she ever regret writing this entry in her blog?

Tee and jeans, it's just so not her.

Guests are attempting their best to be happy, again, as requested.
Some are tearing, yet they force a smile on their face when they look through the glass on the casket.

Eleven o'clock.

Crowd is getting thinner.

Spotted at the front yard,
few of her family members,
some of her close friends, her favourite Hamka gang,
her boyfriend.

Yeap, someone has to do the post party clean up.

Half past eleven.

All of the sudden, the dog rushes to the gate, wagging his tails vigorously.
He hops back and forth.

The whole world freezes. People turn their head towards the dog.
Their eyes set on the dog.

As tears roll down her cheek, her sister presses the remote control of the electric gate with her shaky hand.

The heavy electric gate drags itself aside, making an exit for the dog.

It's happening, as usual.

Nothing ever changes.

The crowd tag after the dog, preparing to witness some unbelievable incident.

The fluffy creature rushes out of the gate, as if he is running after something.

Or someone.

Sometimes, the fluffy creature steps into the prohibited area, and before he completes his business,
he backs off.
Reluctantly.
By some invisible force.


From that day on, everyday at eleven thirty sharp,
the family opens the gate for the dog.


'Come Carpy!'
'Carpy, no.'
Tapping paws.
Tinkling keys.

Midnight cacophony goes on.

Every night, without fail.

Slight difference though.
That section of tapping feet has been removed.
Or, it is not played anymore.


Every now and then, even death cannot break the habits.






P/S:
I had this idea of myself passing away when I was walking Carpy.
Yes, 11.30pm.

I enjoy the midnight breeze.
I like the silent street.
It's safe - if you allow me to trust the security guards at both ends of the street.

I do not purposely doll myself up to walk Carpy.
I am usually backed from somewhere, and have not showered yet.

Gloomy Saturday, you look beautiful

Here I am, lying on the bed,

enjoying the breeze from the ceiling fan,

thinking hard of what to do.

So I have read a few books.

Sprinkled a few trip-plans on my holiday calendar.

Turned my room to a more presentable one, which, has returned to its original face by now.

And what should I do now?

Maybe I should start writing about my life again.

Post-exam pleasure?

Phuket-Krabi escapade?

Blooming relationship?

Welcome back.

IPL treatment at MySolution

Let me tell you, this is solely a girls' topic.

I know I know, it's useless making this statement.The guys are eager to read on regardless.

Especially when I specifically stated it's just for girls.

Anyway, I went for full Brazillian IPL treatment.

What's that?

Go Google. I'm not quite keen to explain it here.

Further, the pros provides more detailed and accurate explanation.

So why did I go?

See, I'm a cheap person.

I've always wanted to try Brazillian wax, always want to feel the cleanliness,

but I'm cheap.

One day, I was browsing one of those websites set up solely for cheap person like me,

and saw this promotion on the IPL treatment.

The price was discounted by... Can I not do the math?

Originally, it was RM1.2k per session,

on promotion, it was RM960 for 4 sessions.

So I bought it.

And have to refrain myself from shopping for bajus and heels and food in the following weeks.

I have no idea what kind of treatment is that.

I didn't even bother to check it online,

didn't check on the consequences or so.

True Shang Hui fashion.

Impulsive and careless.

And so I went.

Slight diversion from the main,

I appreciate the fact that I am a person of no sense of direction,

but I've never thought that I would get lost at The Curve itself.

I went from e@The Curve, passed through the Street, and went round and round at The Curve, attempting to look for the place.

Yes, the address was printed on the voucher, the crumpled recycled paper I had been holding for.

Yes, there is a directory board around, and I have roughly checked it out.

No, I didn't manage to find the said place at one shot.

True Shang Hui fasion.

So I was 30 minutes late.

It was a weekday,

so they had not much customers anyway.

Filled in some form, read some clauses.

The therapist then brought me in for a complimentary legs-soaking, with a heated herbal pad placed over my shoulder.

I would call this calm before the storm.

Upon doing so, she directed me to a changing room,

and asked me to use the antiseptic for cleaning purpose.

And so I did.

I was then brought into that room of torture.

Yes, I paid to have pain inflicted upon me,

which I had no prior knowledge of.

Oh I'm such a masochist.

She started off by shaving.

Rather ticklish. And embarrassing.

My therapist was good anyway.

She eased the tensed situation off by chattering it through.

She told me her own experience on getting the treatment,

and some of her customer's stories.

She was amazed by one of the customers who talked on the phone while getting the treatment.

Huh? Why the amazement?

What's wrong with talking on the phone?

You will know.

Actually prior to all these, she recommended a cream, which she alleged would ease the pain while undergoing the treatment.

The problem was, I wanted to get back to college library in the shortest time possible.

I needed to study.

I am a nerd like that.

It required some 40 minutes for the cream to be absorbed before undergoing the treatment.

And so I passed.

Alright, back to the room of torture.

So I had gone through a round of embarrassment.

Next round was better though.

I was asked to wear a pair of goggles as the laser light can be very harmful to my eyes.

So I obeyed.

Better this way, at least I saw nothing.

I will give you one zap, so that you can get a feel of it.
If you cannot tahan, just let me know ya.

Okay, you managed to scare me.... can??

The zap will come after 3 beeps, alright?

And so I felt a tip pressed against the skin,

and,

beep,

beep,

beep,

zap! + flash!

I know, you can't feel it by merely reading it.

Now, get a lighted incense, press against your skin.

Feel it?

Good.

Mine is few times more painful.

Okay?

She asked.

Ya...

Egoism drove me into saying so.

Further, I paid. Of course I had to go on.

So she would give me 3 zaps on each spot - continuously.

For the more sensitive area, i.e., that with thinner skin, she would give 2 zaps - not continuously though.

The session lasted for around 15 minutes, with roughly 20 zaps inflicted.

For the first time I know, pain can actually cause a human to be sweaty.

And I smell burning air.

Good, the roots were burnt and dead.

Partly.

So, first session ended, which means... 2 news.

The good one, it's not that painful for the 2nd time.

Bad one, I still have to suffer the same (maybe lesser) pain for 3 times.

No worries.

I'm only 24, and if i have 60 years of life span,

I can be clean for 36 years.

Yeala may have a few strands left, but at least it's cleaner.

Breakfast with Zeus

Yea.

My boyfriend.

Damn cool right his name.♥♥♥
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥♥♥♥
♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥ ♥♥
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥
♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥♥ ♥
♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
♥♥ ♥

♥


I wish.

This is just a title inspired by my breakfast buddy of the day, Mei Yi.

Place, click, run and pose.

So we went to Levain Bou.. Pat.. fdjkffdsjkl whatever it is for breakfast.
I can't spell it. #getreal

Nah here it is.

It was a rainy Monday Morning. Zeus is the Greek God of Rain, hence the title.

Mei Yi and I were attempting to poeticise the whole session.

Okay okay try to imagine this...

Rattan chairs and square wooden tables,
which jazzed up by a cup of cappuccino and a glass of bold cream-colored latte,
Accompanied by the cacophony formed with the clinking silver hardware, raindrops against the leaves, chirping birds and giggling friends...

Now close your eyes and take a deep, satisfying breath...

The rich aroma of brewed coffee and fresh-from-oven breads...

Lovely..♥♥♥ Exquisite..♥♥♥


...


*SNAP

Sometimes, we just have to be real.

Let's start from the very beginning.

One, rainy Monday morning in KL, how would you expect the traffic to be??

Sanguine Virgo like us were able to work it through by playing smooth jazz in the car,
and observing other drivers
(most of them wear poker face but we saw one smart chap utilise his time to pluck moustache).

Two, rattan chairs are beautiful to look at, but if you know that you have to rest on it for some times, don't wear shorts - the neat texture of the surface will just print on your flesh, and the whole world will know that you have been sitting on one.

Smart Virgo like us were also able to work it through by resting only 1/3 of our butts on the chairs. How graceful.

Three, it is a known fact that people of A blood type have the tendency to attract mosquitoes.
Exactly.
Both of us were wearing shorts, and our smooth, fair, fleshy thighs had become their breakfast table.

Four, flies are common in Malaysia.
Why wasn't I surprise to spot them at such a delicate place?

So people, be real.

Upon having breakfast, we went to tapao some breads.

We took the trays.

Circle the display centre.
Then detour the display centre.
And move around the display centre.

Empty trays. #indecisive Virgo

Then I saw samples.

I waved frantically at Mei Yi, then only I saw that her back was facing me.

My blood carries auntiness.
Can't help.

Upon trying, we took the bread that we have tried...
and repeat the same circle detour move around cycle again.

Mei Yi said that we looked like the kelefes who were hired to go around the display centre to form the impression that the business is running good.

-___-

Only her.

So I kiap a few more breads, and called it a day.

And oh... it's time for lunch.

Another round?

I ran KL. I ran 21kms.

Whoa!! Have never been so semangat in blogging before!!!

See, it just happened few hours ago.
The ohm is still lingering around.
If I don't write it now,
the mood will drain off,
then i won't write about it anymore.

Make sense?

Yes.

As titled.

How can I not be proud of myself?

During high school, I have never been the athletic type.
I joined St John simply because I didn't want to be involved in any kinds of sports.
Yes, I would rather spending hours in marching and standing still in the senang diri position than to run, or jump.

Listen to me, I have valid reasons.

I used to get involved in sports activities as well.

*look far, as in going down to memory lane*

I remember, on that significant day, I was practising for hurdles race.
Then, I couldn't approach the 3rd or 4th barrier.

Guess what happened?

I hit my vahjayjay against the barrier.

....

Well, if you are a guy, and have your crotch get kneed or kicked, you might understand.

...

No, that's not the end of the story.

The competition hasn't started yet.

I still have to go on.

Yea yea there should be a backup for me because man, I suffered serious injury!!

But still, I had no idea why I had to go on.

In the end, the teacher lowered all the barriers so that I could go for the race.
The other competitors should thank me for that.

So I was able to clear all the barriers, complete the race, with tears all over my face.

Others who didn't get to witness the incident must be wondering:
Need to be so touched or not?? 200m hurdles only ma....

No, they didn't understand.
Of course.

So,
you see,
How can I not be phobic???

Then, some 10 years later, I got an Iphone 4.

(Man, this is like... totally irrelevant)

No, listen to me.
Stop interrupting me.

I downloaded this application named 'iMapMyRun'.
Basically, it's a tracker.
Being an ulu who had never seen such canggih stuff before,
I was amazed by its function:

Oh!!! It can track the route I have run!
Oh!!! It knows my distance of running!
Oh!!! It can show me my pace!!
Oh!!! I can even know the calories burned!!!

-____________-

Uber Ulu right??

Don't mind the Uluness....

It was this application that get me serious into running.

I started to explore new routes.
I started to beat my own pace.
I started to extend my running time.

That was where I started.

I could accept 2kms.

4kms was tiring.


7kms was a killer.I completed it, but it was the hardest task I had ever accomplished.

And today, I ran 21kms.

It wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.

I had been very chirpy on twitter, whining about how nervous I was last night.
I was afraid that I couldn't complete the route.
Man, I had never run 21kms before!!!
21kms, can you imagine??
This distance of traveling back and forth from my place, which is in Cheras, to my college, which is ATC at Petaling Street, is ngam ngam 21kms.

It's very long okay???

But no fear.
My friends have been feeding me with moral supports.
(only if I can survive by that...)
My grandma even made me ginseng so that I don't short of breath. #sweet #practical

And there it goes.

6.15am in the morning.
I was in the middle of the crowd.
Yes, other runners were blocking my way -
which, to my surprise, was an advantage to me.

So I tended to jog just because I couldn't run fast as usual.
Little baby, rapid steps.

Inhale through nose, 8 steps.

Exhale through mouth, 8 steps.

Hello.

Occasionally, when the playlist played the songs I favour, I smiled.
I can smile through the whole song you know.
And to others, I understand that it's rather creepy smiling to myself.

But who cares?

So I set the runners as targets of overtaking.

'Okay, the woman with sheer purple top,'
Overtaken.

'Next, the man with long pants.'
Overtaken.

'Then, the botak.'
Overtaken.

That was how I kept myself running.

You know what's the best part?

Usually when I run on the highway, I have to watch out for the vehicles.
Today, most of the roads were blocked for us. #queen

I know, I know. I can sense the impatient dead cold stares of the drivers.

Oh by the way. #abrupt

Almost elbow someone while taking this picture.
Sorry, that someone.

Every now and then,
there were volunteers standing by the roadside,
supposedly cheering for us.
Nevertheless, some of the volunteers looked so sour!!
Expressionless!!

Understandable though.
They had been standing for hours and they were bored.
So God sent someone like me to cheer them up, by smiling to them. *syok sendiri*

Not this kind of fake smile though.
I flashed them warm and genuine and loving smiles alright?

As you can see, everything went smooth,
until I felt the pain on my right knee at this point.
Sei.

That would mean... I had to start walking.

I had been jogging, slowly but surely, steadily,
but my right knee started to protest.
I didn't feel like slowing down, I didn't feel like walking,
I feared that once I have started walking,
I wouldn't start running anymore. #struggle

My lungs have been working excellently,
but...

Haih.

I could even feel my ovaries dropping. Inch by inch. #illusion

I thought to myself,
well, at least, I have ran the furthest in my life.

Yea, I then started walk in intervals....

When I saw the word '20km', my eyes welled.
I mean, 1km left.
1000ms.
1000 freaking metres.
How great!!

Happiness does not last long though.

My friend Goh, who participated the 10km race, rang me up.

'Oi Shang, where are you?'
'I'm at the 20th km.'
*in a belittling tone* 'Har? You haven't finished yet??'
*offended*
'What do you mean that I haven't finished yet??.... *scolding continue for about 30 seconds or so*'
'Okay okay I will try to meet you up at the finishing line'

This guy has the tendency to make me angry.

If it were others who said so, I wouldn't have been so heated up.

Seriously, I am amazed by myself.
I mean, I ran for 20kms,
and I still have the breath to scold someone while continue running.

*squint eyes*

Don't mess with me.

Anyway, I completed the route.


You know what's the best thing?

I have completed it within the qualifying time.Can see can see???

I estimated myself to finish within 3 hours 30 minutes,
and this is much faster than my own estimated time!!

2 hours and 53 minutes!!! #champion .. of self

Lesson: Don't underestimate yourselves. *winning
One more. Just to show that my earrings matches my hair band.
While the hair band matches the shirt.
*look out of the window*

Oh, it's raining now.
Thank you God.

Oh and, thanks to the parents of this pair of sisters who provided transportation.

Update: just gotten the picture from Tuan Wern's friend.And just got to know that I ranked 356th among some 955 runners.
Gun Time: 2:52:51
Net Time: 2:49:11

I've been running,,,

And eating.

New York Cheesecake with Oreo Crust.

Summer berry parfait. Strawberry. Blueberry. Kiwi. Greek yogurt. Wheat germ. Muesli.

Paprika Mashed Potato.

Spinach Brownies.

Tiramisu in a cup.

And I will be whipping up more stuff in the future.
Baby steps =)

A narcissist's morning mare

A few of them were already dead. Forensic report shown that they had endured long hours of torture prior to their death. It was reported that the murderer injected milk into their veins to keep them alive.

(Ok please don't misunderstand me. I didn't subconsciously come out with this gruesome torturing technique. Go read Gidden's book if you want to know more)

I would be the next one.

See, it was really OK for him to take my life. But be tortured before getting killed?
Like.. open my eyelids and squeeze liquid paper into it...
Or... stuff a dead rat's head into my mouth and cover it with a duct-tape...
Or... make me a part of the human centipede... (Google it. I insist.)
You'd better slash me to death in the first place!!!

Goodness. I was clear that I wouldn't be able to escape. I knew he wouldn't take me if I wasn't alone. Balless man. He wanted things to be clean and fuss-free. My only way to save myself was to get a companion -all the time.

One evening, I was jogging at Taman Sri Pemaisuri. I had to pass by a rather quiet place to get my car. He was a smart man, he spied me, he knew my drills. He wouldn't give up any opportunity to take me. Just when I thought that I couldn't get past the dangerous territory, I saw Kai Rong, a high schoolmate whom I had not seen for years. I pretended to chat up with her so she could walk me to my car.

Boy I was so right. There he was, leaning nonchalantly against his car which was parked beside mine. Accompanying him were two stout black men (stout and black. Guinness anyone? *lame), in typical bodyguard immaculately-ironed black suit, with black glasses, covering their crotch with their neatly folded palms. Think the Agents in Matrix. Jeez couldn't I be more creative in my dream?

Anyway, yeap, they were waiting for me. To ask Kai Rong along was really the best decision I had ever done thus far. Thank you God. *look up to sky, palms pressed against each others* If she wasn't by my side, I would have been their torturing subject. Think sashimi or minced meat.

Then a big part of my dream was forgotten.

Let's proceed to the more significant part,

the twist.







He was still going after me.
It was different though.




He was still trying to get me.
It was different though.




He...




...had fallen for me.


*silence*


=_________=



!!!what rubbish is this????

I feel utterly paiseh even by writing it out.

Super anti-climax.

Someone who hated me to bits (albeit I had no idea why), who wished to sprinkle salt on my slashed skin before mincing me in to pieces and further marinate me with balsamic vinegar, fallen in love with me - because I was adorable that way.

I guess only an ultimate narcissist like I would be able turn a horror thriller into a romantic comedy.

I guess you are not interested in how he was trying to hit on me (not too literal). His methods were pretty blah and definitely not as creative as his torturing techniques.

I woke up when he tried to wrap his arm around my shoulder - and the two black men were still standing behind him, in the same posture.

Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish!!

Abrupt ending I know - I couldn't have written much. That was how it ended.

10th Anniversary Trip @ NO, YOU DONNO WHO I AM

2001

The sisterhood started when...

She used half a bottle of baby oil on her hair and didn't care if the crown looked greasy - she just wanted it to be neat. Not even a tiny strand of hair should stand up from the others.

She had the signature -_- facial expression in all her pictures. She appreciated the fact that smiling caused wrinkles and attempted to limit her facial expressions as few as she could.

She tried to go after her crushes, and got brutally rejected. She might not know that guys do not like pimple-covered face. Oh and her high forehead made her looked rather intelligent it intimidated.

*Disclaimer: Self asserted opinions. The characters didn't really think so.

2011

Sisterhood has gradually grown to... 'wiveshood' and of course, they are no longer who they were a decade ago.

In conjunction with the 10th Anniversary, they went to somewhere which is 130kms from their home.

The then greasy-head.Beautiful light jet black hair

And the -_-Sexy neck.

Oh and this is the pimpled face.Rather well fed these days.

I know you are impressed with the tremendous changes.

I know right, you are disappointed when you know that this post has only 3 photos.
I know right, you feel you are eager to see more photos.
I know right, you miss me because you haven't seen me for quite some time.

I know right.

I feel you. *palm on chest. Sincere face*

I will post more stunning pictures one day.
I promise. *Palm still on chest, nod, and blink eyes*

Pain

I looked up upon the sky, and I saw a house in the end of the beanstalk.

A typical type of house that we used to draw in the playschool - red roof, squared windows with white draping curtains and cream in color, almost the size of half of my thumb when compared side by side.

Someone whom I was not familiar with approached me.

He/She told me something that I wished I had no heard of.

He/She said that my beloved grandmother was in the house, couldn't be able to get down. She has gone into the stage of senility. That person attempted to mock my grandmother. Sitting on an invisible chair, with the upper body rocking back and forth, repeatedly murmuring 'I don't remember anymore, I don't remember anymore, I don't remember anymore....'

My eyes welled. I tried to figure out of how to bring my grandmother down, so that I could spend the rest of her life with her. The house was situated so high up - it was at least 20 storeys high and it was impossible for me to carry my heavy grandmother down. The only means to get into the house was by climbing the beanstalks... I couldn't come up with a feasible solution.

My heart ached. The idea of leaving my senile grandmother alone in that isolated house stabbed my heart.

My tears started to stream and when I opened my tear-welled eyes, I realised that I was in the pitch-dark room, lying on my bed, with the comforter lightly rested on me.

Thank God, it was just a nightmare. A most painful nightmare that I've ever had.

The myth that dreams only consist of black and white are busted. I could remember vividly every single color of the house and the sky as well as the grassland.

I know that I can't afford to lose my grandma, even though I know that eventually, I will have to.

Life has been so good now, but how long can the status quo be remained?

Fall of an acquaintance

Fact: I've been a regular at Petaling Street.
And I have never seen a single stray dog.

Ever wonder why?

Let me tell you a story.

I treated her as my acquaintance.
They told me that she was found in a pile of rubbish.
If she hadn't been picked up, she would had been crushed to death.

They picked her up, and raised her.

I, as a passerby, played with her whenever I had the chance.

I used to think that, I will be graduating soon, I will be starting new life soon,
I will be working, and I will not be attending college,
so I won't be able to see her anymore.... and I will be missed.

Now, this will not happen.
She is gone.

I had an opportunity to save her.
And I missed it.

When I saw her for the very last time, it was late at night, after my class and she was moving in a recycle bag which was in the possession of two men.
They released her when they saw me looking for her.
I got her out of the bag, hugged her, and confronted them.
I thought that they were going to take her away and eat her but they told me they were just trying to play with her.
I believed in them - partially.

That night, she was very quiet when I stroked her back, tickled her stomach, rub her chin.
She was sticking to me and when I put her onto the floor, she tried to follow me.
The parking attendant who was on the night shift made a gesture as a command for her to go back to her place, and she obeyed.

I really thought of bringing her back but... she doesn't belong to me.
The parking attendant who is on the morning shift love her.
He fed her, and played with her.
He put bangles on her neck, and tie her - sounds like restriction of her freedom, but the fact is, he did it out of the fear of her being hit by the car.
And she has a really wide area to play around, while I could only provide a tiny front yard.

I shouldn't be too selfish, right?

He would be upset if he didn't see her the next morning, right?

Sigh. Now I am looking for excuses to justify my insensitive conduct.

The next morning, I tried to look for her.
No sight of her.
I looked at her uneaten food it sent an unpleasant chill down my spine...

When the parking attendants told me that she disappeared, my eyes welled and I thought, my instinct was right.

She was caught and brought to somewhere and.. being slaughtered and eaten.
Goodness, the vision of her helpless expression while being slaughtered kept on running on my mind.

Throughout the whole tutor, I tried to search for other possibilities.
Well, it could be that.... those two men found that she's cute... and decided to raise her...
Well, I can't think of any.
No point convincing myself, she is gone.

I'm not sure how long does it take to get over it.
I know I should get on with life because there is nothing much I can do now.
Every time I go to the parking area, I think of her and I try in vain to search for her, which of course, is fruitless.

I can't help but to think that she is now dead...
I could have brought her home but I did not.
She was so young and she hadn't even started to bark yet...

My friend told me that the same cruelty happened when a chicken is slaughtered and eaten.
It made me feel better but I still can't get rid of my own imagination...

...

I hope you will have a better life in your next cycle...
I'm sorry... for not being to help you.
You are missed, and you will be missed.

Decisions

I'm sure that you have seen this scene in some shows:
A girl nonchalantly opened the closet door.
The piled up clothes spilled out the second the door was opened.
The girl was drowned by the clothes.
The end.

It is the exaggerated version of my life.

I have two closets, approximately 3 metres wide, 2 metres tall when two are combined.
Not very tiny, but the similar thing happened.
I wasn't drowned, but the pile of jeans fall off conveniently to my feet.

In the show, the girl would bent down and scoop up the overflown clothes,
stuck them into the closet,
and before the pile fall off again,
the girl slammed shut the door and promptly leaned on the closet door using all her weight, let out a sigh of relief, thought that she could prevent the pile from spilling out.

Very predictable.

The similarities ended here.

My plan usually succeeded, unlike that girl who would face a situation that the door sprang opened, and the girl got thrown to the other corner of the room. The door would normally shut as I wished.

*wriggle brows rapidly

But cannot la.
I can't face the same situation every morning.
I get very upset for the rest of the day.

A detoxification would do my closet good.

I opened the closet door again.
As expected, some of the jeans dropped out.
I bent into the closet, swept the rest of them onto the floor.
Really cool man.

And now, the difficult time.

The apparels couldn't fit into the closet not because my closet is small - I have too many of apparels. Unused one. Decades old. I even know how an esprit tag looked like 20 years ago. (some of my mom's 20-year-old bajus are some usual wear of mine, maybe I should show you guys one day. Vintage, in a literal sense)

I have donated some of them before, but a big part of them still remained, despite the fact that I can not fit into them anymore. My meals are getting nutritious, good sign.

But cannot la. I really have to get rid of some of them.
It's difficult to depart from something I have been seeing for so many years.

So I set out a three-tier test.
If that certain apparel can't pass that test, it has no choice but to go to the donation box.

1) Do I wear that? Yes, keep. No, next question.

2) Will I wear that? Yes, one day I will be slim and fit into that again. Yes very hopeful and optimistic. No, next question.

3) Does it serve a purpose? Yes, it reminds you that you had once completed 90 pumpings on the heated tarred road, with tears on your face; and you were a kelefe in the famine-30-hour-camp, etc. No, donation box.

In the end, 4 big bags were sorted out. I hope the toxin in my body could be flushed out that easy as well.

I didn't want to look into those bags anymore la, because I might feel too upset to dump some of them away.

So now you are thinking that I will say,

now, it's time to reload.

Wrong.
You don't understand.
Or you misunderstood me.

When I decided that some of the jeans should go into the donation box, I swear not to get more jeans for the time being. What else can I get? I have all kinds of jeans. All the while I had been wearing the similar pairs because I took the most reachable pair. And now every pair is reachable. I will be having difficulty in making a choice.

When I decided flipped through the t-shirts I swear again for not buying t-shirts at the moment. I had been wearing the same color because some of them are crumpled in between that pile of jeans.

And I definitely don't need any more bags.

So yeap, my closets would remain clean and spacious for the time being, unless I'm struck by some I-must-buy-a-dress-otherwise-there-is-no-chance-of-me-passing-exam kind of syndrome.

Non-existent guilt

Apology, like a confession, doesn't imply guilt.

You may blurt out the five-letter-word under duress.
Or for sarcasm.
Or to make amend.
Or to protect someone.

Mine is to the last case.
I have heard the unpleasant mumbles.
I know that if those mumbles realise into complaints, it would make the already terrible situation worse.

So I apologised before the rotten beans are spilled.
And I suffered the mental punishment.

The fact which exacerbate the bitterness is that the person who is at fault is having fun with the punisher.
She who is blamed for something she has never done is currently locked in her own room, thought to be pondering over her guilt.

Accept the fact.
It's just a tiny weeny tip of an iceberg.
I still have an infinite way to go.

I hopes that my EQ can be increased after the incident.

Good night.
Tomorrow will be a finer day.

Muesli and apple crumbs plus warm milk awaits.
Not forgetting the warm latte which would be slowly sipped during the traffic congestion.
And Mindy Gledhill's or Soho Dolls' or Alicia Keys', depending on my mood.
Most significantly, the preparation I have done for tomorrow's tutorial. Gosh. I'm gungho.

Yes. Tomorrow will be another good day.
Again. Sweet dreams. No. Remembering the dream is the synonym of not sleeping tightly.
No dream.
Bye.

Ghostly thought

We have heard that spirits/ghosts/souls float sticking against the wall and thus in the hospital, we are warned to walk in the middle of the corridor.

Ever wonder why?

I have found a rather logical answer.

I have been wearing heels to class and to work. Four-inches.
Those pairs of heels successfully elongate my leg and I feel that I have superbly good body posture (it could be my own illusion or delusion but just don't burst the bubbles k?) and at the same time, add unnecessary pain to my feet.

I could have said that I am not in any pain - I was not lying.
That was before the pain strikes in.

Cut the long story short, I took off my heels in the classroom, when I was teaching.
Students don't really care about that anyway.

No, my feet do not stink and fyi (as if you don't know), feet only stink when they are wrapped for a long time. Most of my heels are open-toed so yea, my feet are perfectly stink free.

The floor of the classroom and the corridor is carpeted. Aunty cleaner comes every week (twice in a week) to vacuum the carpet so it's considerably clean.

Yes I know again, I haven' gotten into my point yet - what to do with ghosts float sticking against the wall?

We bear a similar feature - we are moving barefooted.

Let's say, one person walks on a brand new carpet.Those prints do look like paw prints. I was too lazy to download shoeprints brushes hence came out with the pawprints.

Yes, these are the shoeprints one would leave after walking on a carpet.


Okay, let's imagine again.
More people walking on the carpet. Hence leaving more shoeprints.

Any sane mind would walk in the middle of the corridor instead of sticking against the wall, right?

Exactly. We are getting there.

Use your ability to imagine again, MORE people walked through the corridor,
leaving MORE shoeprints.
The centre of the carpet is covered with dirt, while the side of it still remains dirt free.

Yes, that explains why, barefooted living creatures, that include me who habitually takes off the heels and our unseen friends whom presumably not wearing anything on their feet, prefer move sticking against the wall - simply because that part of the carpet is cleaner.

...

Nevermind.
I'm rather sure that my children will understand me.

And I'll be ready for our unseen friends' personal verification.

Sugary air

Remember my surprise party?

Same place revisited again.

Twice in a week,

once with my family members,

Once with the evergreen besties,
Macarons?
Or meringue cookies?
Or meringue cookies disguised as macarons?
Just give it a try,
@ Lavazza Cafe

No. 1, Jalan Perdana 2,

Segar Perdana Avenue

Taman Segar Perdana

Batu 9 Cheras, 43200

Cheras, Selangor D. Ehsan

Short note

okay okay the last post was embarrassing so I have to post up something to push it down.

You see, I have painstakingly gathered my courage and written it down, bearing the risk that there's a possibility, however slight, that he would read it; and a probability, which is rather high, that my tech savvy dad would read it. (er hello dad, if you are reading)- I can't just click the delete button. I wish to make it as a reference so that I would know how a 24-year-old thinks when my children reach that age. Alright I can't treat my children base on myself as I know, I'm rather childish if compared to the peers. For the purpose of reminiscing, I'm not removing it... k?

(actually no one has asked u to remove it.
Stop being paranoid, woman)

And someone took the initiative to search this person up, which made me rather panic now. What if the anonymous is my dad? wow I'll be embarrassed to death la. Alright, worst position, it was my dad who found out, and.. so what? I can't do anything about it. I can't make him unfound it. Oh that reminds me of inception the movie.

(hello anonymous, now you understand me. if you are reading, please reveal your identity.)

Okay now I'm posting the next entry for the sake of pushing the post down.

I hope you are too lazy to read the previous post.

The end

We watched the first sunrise of the year,

One more.Broga it is.

Hence we ought to end it with the last sunset.

Oh aren't the lovely us romantic?
Please take us home then.

Anyway.

We die die didn't wanna watch the sunset at KL.
Sea and sand, of course you know that it's not KL.

So, Port Dickson we went.

Don't laugh eh.
Contrary to my belief, PD's sands are white and soft.
The texture of the sands are way better than those in Morib wei.Yes you can see that the color of the above picture is slightly different because I try to warmify the picture but it turns out to be the original version look better and it's almost time for me to sleep so that I won't be late to class tomorrow like how I was late to class today hence I leave the pictures as they are.


El Cactus restaurant we had chosen.
Since we were staying...
*yesh!! I found the benefit of checking in!!!!!!
It was Foursquare which reminding me of the hotel's name!!!*

Alright, I found,
we were staying at Corus Paradise Service Apartment,
which is located 207 steps away from the restaurant. <
If you are super duper truple quadruple hungry,
don't opt for this restaurant.
Food were good, though.
I purposely put up this picture to test your eyesight.
You can see a girl in a prison uniform and a mexican hat right?
Mou cho. That was me.
You can see two girls in broad smile and pointing at the hat right?
Mou cho. Those were Miao Yii and Yen Yee.
What?
You can only see three yellow bright dots?
You ought to wear a night vision spectacles when you drive at night for the safety of the road users and also when you walk at night for the safety of the drivers and when you sleep too for the safety of whomever you will bump into in your dream.
*stop being lame Chung Shang Hui*

And please don't think that we had a quiet new year eve.
The hotel organised a beach party which charged each head RM70 as admission fee,
of which, we the kiamsiaper didn't attend, of course,
but were there to tumpang countdown.

Alright.
Till then.
Happy new year.

Btw, these are the singles.
From left: Ng Chooi Yee (F,24,KL), Lee Mei Yi (F,24,KL), Liau Jia Liang (M, 24,KL), Chung Shang Hui (F,18,KL)
Do let me know if you are interested in any of them.

Let's hope that we will bump into our other half same time this year.

BTW I feel wrong lying.
You are a genius if you can spot my lie.