two ships and paint

Half Man Half Biscuit: Heyyyyyy did you see the news about those two ships that collided?

Suanie: No…. what happened?

Half Man Half Biscuit: Well, one was carrying red paint…

Half Man Half Biscuit: The other blue…

Half Man Half Biscuit: Apparently the survivors were marooned…

Suanie: …………………

Being someone who is wrapped up in her own little (great) world, I didn’t google for more information. Unlike some of my friends…. :P

Just went through my Friendster for a bit, found out that one of my primary schoolmates got hitched. Others are in new relationships. And how their faces have changed. I could hardly recognise some of the girls. I have known these girls my whole life, starting from kindergarten to primary and secondary school. I’ve been through dark blue to light blue pinafores with them, curly pigtails and short hair, playing ‘SNAP’ to listening to Michael Learns to Rock and assorted 90s boybands. Okay this is a bit sick, but I had the fleeting thoughts of, “now they are having sex” [insert various imagination], then “would they or would they not wait till marriage to have sex” to “I wonder what birth control methods they use…”

It is something like knowing your younger siblings getting some, or your parents still at it. While I do know how babies are made, it’s still a freakish thing, you know? Sometimes knowledge isn’t king.

Purgeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……………………

Other news: I got this e-mail the other day:

Hi Suanie,

I have a predicament and am hoping that perhaps u or your pals may be able to help me out.

I have 2 GREASE the Musical Tickets for 21 May 2006 @RM200 ea. I can’t go and wish to sell them off at RM350 for both tickets.

Please contact me before 12 May 2006 as I would be out of the country. Thanks.

John.

I don’t know if he would want his e-mail to be published here, but if you want the deal hit me with an e-mail and I’ll forward you his phone number. Details for Grease the Musical here.

Regards from your happy perky information helpdesk,
Suanie

jiwang malam sabtu

It’s Saturday night. I am not feeling well (long story due to the fucked-upness of my doomed bodily functions). I am at home. I am feeling jiwang. I am listening to Ella’s Sembilu, one of my favourite Malay jiwang songs that to me, captured the essence of Malay 90’s movies. I am also chatting with my housemate, who lives down the stairs from me via MSN.

According to Erna, the sembilu means bamboo shards. If you get scratched by it, you’ll hurt. Bad. The movie of the same title has something to do with Awie and Erra Fazira wearing high school uniforms. I loved Awie. He’s graduated to beating up dudes at the Asian Heritage Row, but that’s Awie for you. His rugged looks and behaviour matches his reputation.

Because I am a loser who stays at home on Saturday nights, I’ll attempt to translate Ella’s Sembilu to English.

Kelam malam sepi melamar kerinduan
(Late at night, loneliness invites … missing you?)
Tak terpadam ingatanku terhadapmu
(my memories of you have not diminished)
Dan pada siapa harus ku adukan
(and to whom should I approach/confront/complain to?)
Resah ini kian menghimpit perasaan
(this anxiety is crowding my emotions)

Dan seandainya kasihmu mekar bagai dulu
(and if your love was to bloom like it did before)
Pasti tidak aku terbelenggu begini
(for sure I wouldn’t be this entangled)
Bukan salah aku retak semua ini
(it’s not my fault that all this [love affair] is shattered)
Berpunca darimu bertikam lidah
([our troubles] began from your sharp words)
Lalu punah
(hence broken)

Tak dapat ku bayangkan
(I could not have imagined)
Tuturmu bagai sembilu
(your words are like bamboo shards)
Mencakar hati ini
(scratching this heart)
Tanpa simpati di hati
(without sympathy in your heart)
Ingin rasanya
(I feel like)
Ku laungkan rasa kecewa
(screaming out my disappointment)

Kekasih lupakan sejarah
(lovers forget their past)
Cinta kita baja dulu
(our love was like fertiliser in the past)
Di manakah kau campakkan
(where have you thrown)
Cintaku yang pernah kau sanjungi
(my love that you once held high)

Oh mengapa
(oh why)
Semua ini berlaku
(is all this happening)
Sedangkan aku sedikit pun tak pernah curang
(when I have never been unfaithful)
Terhadapmu
(towards you)

Hmmmm… quite jiwang right? Especially with the guitars and Ella’s wailing… and the original context of the words… some words in Malay just cannot be translated to English… oh you think you can do better? DO IT.

p/s: maklumlah gua punya penguasaan BM kian merosot…

p/ss: can I get a job writing the subtitles for our esteemed VCD/DVD pirates?

all your car crashes are belong to the ldp

(Last post on the the LDP for a long time, I promise, unless some fucktard *really* screws things up)

I maintain irregular hours. It’s just my thing. I still do but at least now I do not freak out like I did the first few months when I moved into my current dwelling.

Things went quite well for the first couple of weeks, most probably due to the fact that I kept normal sleeping hours for a while and passed out like a log. Then the first time in this house that I was awake at around 2 something a.m., I heard this:

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHHHHHH — BOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHH — BAMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!

Surely it must be an accident, I thought. Though I could not see any crashed cars from my window, I suppose it must have happened a kilometre or something away, and left it at that.

Two nights later I heard it again:

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHHHHHH — BOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHH — BAMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!

Okay… this is a bit weird… takkan the same thing happen at the same time with the same sound from the same distance? There’s no way someone could really be that unlucky — besides I’d checked a good stretch of the LDP and did not find any debris. Nope, nothing in the newspapers either.

Two nights after that, same thing.

By this time I was well and truly crept out. I am Chinese, right? Thus I’ve been exposed to all sorts of Chinese ghost stories and movies enough to fear the thought of some ghost who’d died in an accident along the very stretch of road reenacting its miserable death. People ‘going’ when it wasn’t their time (or they felt like it wasn’t their time), mercilessly killed innocents and all that, you know? I thought back to some seriously creepy situations I’d been in when living in a semi-wooden house in Muar; of course I was unable to sleep a wink that night. The next day I called my mom asking her to go to a temple and pray for my… erm spiritual well-being or something. I am not really *that* superstitious or religious, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Over the next few months I kind of got used to the screech–boosh–bams. In the beginning I would switch the main light off, switch my night light on, jumped into bed with my blanket up to my neck. Then it happened again one night and I was too preoccupied with something to be bothered about it, and from then on I’d just mutter a quick prayer for the ‘poor soul’ and get back to whatever I was doing.

Then I spoke to a few people about this, and a journalist told me that car accidents are frequent on the LDP — it just doesn’t get much, if any coverage in the newspapers BECAUSE IT IS SO FREAKING COMMON. Plus, due to the nearness of our place to the highway, it wouldn’t be surprising that the accidents I’d heard occurred a good distance away.

Phew. But I didn’t really believe him until I witnessed the aftermath of a screech–boosh-bam, very visible from my window. Similar accidents followed; if I were an ambulance-chasing reporter, I wouldn’t even have to leave my house. The worst crash I heard was a triple overturn that left the car in quite a bad shape (duh). The funniest was when a group of college kids, still with the big ‘P’ sign attached on the car lost control and crashed into the fence that divides the highway and residential area. The driver also managed to cause grievous emotional harm to one of our neighbours who (still) parks his golden Merz by the fence by denting the front part a little. I really do not understand because, a) it is a straight road where he crashed it, and b) the Merz did them no harm, just sitting there golden and pretty so why oh why?!? Hehehe I could not look at my neighbour for days without wanting to laugh. He really loved that car.

Anyway for those who have no blinking idea of what the LDP is, here is a GIF visual courtesy of Litrack.

A rough map of the LDP

It’s half of the 40 km highway built at the cost of RM130 million, and I live somewhere within the black-circled area.

I wouldn’t even be writing this if it weren’t for the fact that a rather terrible crash occurred a couple of hours ago (and two nights ago, but it wasn’t as ‘big’ as this latest one). It was loud enough to make CT (along with two other neighbours) come out to have a look. A car (or two? I couldn’t see) had crashed into the divider, it was quite smashed up, lots of people stopped and got out of their cars to help/kaypoh, there was an ambulance with its sirens on because inconsiderate people wanting to get lucky numbers or to just gawk were holding up the traffic, two police cars… rather serious actually. I feel quite sorry for Litrack.

So, I have a few things to say:

1) You should be more careful on the LDP. The black-circled area is almost a death trap if you are one of those who think that you could ‘fly’ because there isn’t any traffic in the middle of the night. Remember — I can hear you crash.

2) Friends of tow truck operators wanting to ‘help’ you at a very high cost are pests that you should not even have to be bothered with. Always keep a couple numbers of some more reliable tow truck dudes with you — maybe your own friend or your own friend’s friend used him in the past; you never know when you’re going to need it.

3) If you hold up traffic (which MAY include an ambulance a bit behind you) to take down the misfortunate car’s plate number, buy a lottery ticket using the number and win yourself some moolah, you are going straight to hell. I don’t care what anyone else says.

4) Be nice to Kancil drivers. This is not really relevant, but I thought I’d just put it in for Jaime’s sake.

Safe driving tips from me eh? Heheheh that’s a bit rich but you know, whatever works.

Added:
Check these forum theads from Lowyat.net and Zerotohundred.com out.

this is beer typing

So I was driving to the hospital that is half of the LDP from my house. It was raining like one of those irregular tropical thunderstorms that we get so often at this time of the year. And you know the LDP — one massively long curvy road that will have cars going at 20kph if so much as a cat harakiri-ed in the middle of the road. This was at around 3.30 p.m., after lunch break and before the dreaded peak hour and not quite the time for government servants to head home. They were all out having tea anyway.

I was on the fast lane — don’t give me the crap on how fast lanes are not really fast lanes and there shouldn’t be any difference when driving bla bla la di da la. There is a difference, I was on the fast lane and I was going at 30kph like every poor sod stuck on the LDP for their own inane reasons. There was this white Wira on the slow lane next to me, the dude signaled to go into my lane. Alright fine, whatever, not like it would do any difference. No one would let him go, not the car in front of me, not the car behind me. Being a paragon of virtue embodied with so much patience and loving kindness that Lucifer would shit himself at the thought of welcoming me to his turf, I let the git go in front of me. He did and gave an appreciative wave. I felt like Mother Theresa without the habit and wrinkles. My halo perched proudly atop my glowing head. This is driving in KL/PJ, remember?

Then the git decided to return my good deed of the day by going at 10kph. In front of me. On the fast lane. I could fit two long Merz and a cement lorry in front of his Wira. There was no turning to the slow lane for me or any of the poor sods behind me because the slow lane drivers were going at 30kph. Like normal people. Naturally I was pissed off and pretty much bewildered. I could feel the rage aura from the drivers behind me, hitting me all over like an invisible bat to my head. My halo fell off and got trampled to useless bits.

And THEN, the indecisive git signaled to the left, wanting to go back to the slow lane. He managed this feat by swerving his car to the middle of the road, pretty much blocking every other driver on the slow AND fast lanes. What The Fuck. Everyone was pissed off. I looked into the rear mirror and saw the dude behind me gesturing something obscene. He then turned and looked at me, but I was not about to get into an eye staring ‘what, this is not my fault!’ contest with him. The rain wasn’t helping.

I reached the hospital half an hour later and borrowed an umbrella from the guards at the waiting zone. Didn’t want to get wet walking from the parking lot to the hospital building, did I? I parked the car, flipped open the umbrella and stepped out into the open. The rain stopped. I am not shitting you. Great timing eh? Story of my life.

The nurse said that my hole has closed, you can view a photo here. No need for more dressing and bandage. The doctor removed the now-softened ear wax that had been clogging my left ear for maybe a year. In defense of my personal hygiene, that piece of hard wax was deep inside my ear, alright? I couldn’t have reached it without busting my eardrum. The damned perforated ear drum in the right ear is still there, and the doctor suggested a simple surgery to fix the problem. This is done by sticking two needles behind my ear to numb the area hence relieving me of any pain during the surgery, and removing some fat from my ear lobe to be patched onto the offending hole. Easy peasy surgery, done in 20 minutes, no need for general anesthetic, no need to stay at the hospital overnight, RM3000++. I told him I’d think about it. It’s not life-threatening, it’s just annoying because I can’t hear all that well with my right ear. But the hearing loss is only 10%, it’s like listening to gurgles when you are underwater. No biggie.

I went to pay for my dressing session. The bill came up to RM30.50 . Huh?!?! Why is it so expensive, I asked. Well actually it’s not ‘my last piece of bread in the world or I’d die’ expensive. It’s just that all my previous dressing sessions came up to RM26.70, tops. Though RM4 could buy you a loaf of Gardenia bread with change, but that was not the point. It’s the principle of It, so I had to ask. The cashier looked at me like I was a monkey let loose from the zoo asking why bananas grow on banana trees.

“I’m just following what they gave me”, she answered with a nasty smirk.

I coughed up the money. She handed me my bill. As she was withdrawing her hand, she scratched MY hand with her pinky nail. I stared at her. She looked away. Bitch.

I paid the parking ticket at the automatic machine and walked back to my car. It was slightly drizzling. Of course. I sat in the car for a full 10 minutes, listening to Babylon Zoo’s Spaceman. It sounded different, clearer. More crispy. My left ear is cured. Good. I killed a mosquito that had been buzzing around inside the car for the whole day, and proceeded to drive home.

It rained harder. The LDP was a mess. For the 10,000th time, I silently thanked my eldest sister for the use of her zippy auto car. I thought of my old manual Iswara and shuddered. It didn’t bother me that much before, but then I didn’t have a choice and lived with it. I was lucky to have a car to drive. I still am.

I stopped by an open-air restaurant near my house and tar-pau-ed sing chow mai fan. Reached home to find the gates wide open. FUCK. I remembered closing it when I went out. Luckily Erna wasn’t home yet. I had forgotten to close the gates yesterday and she called me on my mobile, sounding a bit worried. I turned the key to open the grill door to find it unlocked. Good, it wasn’t me then. I always lock the grill door. I would stumble home slightly drunk, mildly incapable of walking a straight line with a nearly bursting bladder and I’d lock the grill door.

Wasn’t really hungry, but I gobbled up the sing chow mai fan. There were 2 small prawns and bits of egg in it. My first ‘poisonous’ food in nearly 3 weeks. I didn’t die. Tomorrow I will get a cream puff.

I would write more about the inconsequential details that happened after, but the cold beer in the fridge is screaming my name, Suanie Suanie drink me drink me!!! I just had my left ear fixed. Can’t turn deaf to plaintive wails now, can I? Laters.

fighting over peter

Suanie and Reta fighting over Peter Tan

Crap audio quality — no idea why the audio quality becomes ‘zing zing’ using Microsoft Movie Maker… oh yeah maybe ‘cos it sucks. But I’m a noob, so bleh. 2.03 mins btw.

Nyeh nyeh nyeh.

Thanks to Jack the phone camera man. Related posts by: Reta, Peter, Reta again and Peter again.

the run-around guys

For some unknown reasons, this past weekend I’d been having a lot of conversations on the topics of being single, being in a relationship, being a male and being a female. The eternal incomprehensible tangles of having different organs and functions that make sad love songs top of the charts and people like me bitching about it.

I don’t know what it means, maybe all it means is that when you talk, someone else will talk back. I don’t know, it’s not like there’s a big big mystery waiting to be uncovered. Despite assurances that I am still young this that, despite my overplayed dramatisation of singlehood, I am not overly worried. Maybe I *should* be, maybe I should start thinking about worrying.

Meanwhile, drinks all around!

Back in high school I used to hang out with this circle of friends, and over the years I noticed the ‘changing partners’ game. Girl A goes out with Guy A, they break up, Girl A gets together with Guy A’s buddy Guy B, Guy A gets together with Girl B, everyone breaks up, Guy B and Girl C gets together, Guy A then has interest in Girl C bla bla bla… the point of the matter is, everyone was dating everyone else within the same circle. Not my cup of tea but it seems to have continued on till today, Girl B and Guy N finally got together.

Then I came to KL to discover a whole new breed of men — the ones who would try their luck with every girl within the same circle. There may be a proper name for this type of men (desperate, horny, asshole, jerk, slut), but I call them the ‘Run-Around’ guys for lack of a more polite better term. Single girls worldwide may know of this situation — you get to know a guy, he seems nice and all, then you introduce him to all your girlfriends and he hits on them. Some do it discreetly, some don’t even bother to cover their tracks but you, the single girl is most likely to remain ignorant until you exchange notes with your girlfriends.

Quite sad lor. I don’t know if those guys realise it, but once notes have been passed around over and over, the circle of girls that they try so hard to infiltrate would mark them as history. Adios, tata, goodnight and goodbye. Or at least that is what I would do. So don’t bother, thanks.

There are also the girls who attempt to steal her friend’s every potential male in sight, but that’s another story.

While on friendships, I was still a kid in primary school when I experienced my first non-friendship friendship. A toddler my age and I mutually agreed to cease all communications.

“I don’t want to friend you already.”

“Don’t friend, don’t friend lah!”

Behold the cold war! How glorious it was back in those days to give the cold shoulder because if you even give the slightest hint of looking at the other person, there goes all your 8 year old credibility. Your friend who dared lend the other warring party a pencil would be semi-permanently marked as belonging to the other side, unless she comes back with her tail between her legs offering some juicy gossip for sniggers and laughter, such as the other one got into trouble with so-and-so teacher. Until then she is not worthy of your mighty attention. Feel free to look the other way and completely ignore her even if she was still standing in front of you, pretty much bewildered at the change of situation.

It was cute. But when adults still do it, it is downright stupid and childish and marks you on the losing end. You are no longer 8 years old. Grow the fuck up, why don’t you?

On another note, a big hi to Jazz Mamma of The Top Room! The place was nice, the music better.

And happy birthday eyeris! May your balls never sag till the end of time.