Happy 51st Merdeka

I finally had the opportunity to watch the Petronas 51st Merdeka Ad on Wednesday evening (at first, I wasn’t sure it was even a Petronas ad as it features Afdlin Shauki). It brought tears to my eyes as I remembered the sacrifices that my parents made in raising us. And I wonder if I would and could ever repay them for all they’ve done. I’m still trying to do that but I know the account will never be balanced no matter how hard I try.

The ad also gives another message: don’t ever let anything get in your way. Find your own way and work hard for what you want. Don’t let early frustration hold you back and don’t expect instant gratification. Things will not fall into our lap if we don’t work towards it. And yes, it is encapsulated in the Petronas microsite: Patience, perseverance and hard work paves the road to success. Even the Holy Quran says: Verily never will God change the condition of a people until they change it themselves (with their own souls).

This year, we will be celebrating our independence day amidst weaker economic conditions, rising food prices, higher energy prices and increasing inflation, just to name a few.

Back at boarding school, we had this annual tradition on the eve of Merdeka: the fifth formers would perambulate around the school compound before gathering at the netball court near the Dining Hall. Our year was no different and we made the traditional circumambulation with our raised lanterns (and yes, in our nightgowns! Well, it was an all-girls boarding school so what the heck anyway). We assembled at the netball court just before midnight and at the stroke of midnight, we sang the National Anthem before singing our college song. We also sang ‘Warisan’ (I can’t quite recall the order of the songs but we may have sung this song when we were circumambulating):

Anak Kecil Main Api
Terbakar Hatinya Yang Sepi
Airmata Darah Bercampur Keringat
Bumi Dipijak Milik Orang

Nenek Moyang Kaya Raya
Tergadai Seluruh Harta Benda
Akibat Sengketa Sesamalah Kita
Cinta Lenyap Di Arus Zaman

Indahnya Bumi Kita Ini
Warisan Berkurun Lamanya
Hasil Mengalir Ke Tangan Yang Lain
Pribumi Merintih Sendiri

Masa Depan Sungguh Kelam
Kan Lenyap Peristiwa Semalam
Tertutuplah Hati Terkunci Mati
Maruah Peribadi Dah Hilang

Kini Kita Cuma Tinggal Kuasa
Yang Akan Menentukan Bangsa
Bersatulah Hati Bersama Berbakti
Pulih Kembali Harga Diri

Kita Sudah Tiada Masa
Majulah Dengan Gagah Perkasa
Jangan Lalai Teruskan Usaha
Melayu Kan Gagah Di Nusantara

While we may have started our midnight march in a jovial mood, we were quite sombre when we reached the netball court. While we may have started singing softly and faintly in the beginning, our voices grew stronger and clearer as we neared the netball court. And I felt a spark of pride feeling in my chest growing and growing as I always do when I hear patriotic songs (like this song and this) defending the country (not those modern songs about our flag) and I knew then, as I have always known, that I would do anything and everything within my power to protect my country and I would defend it even if I die in the process.

Happy 51st year of independence, Malaysia!

On another note, we will be ushering in Ramadan on Monday. So here’s wishing everyone Ramadan Kareem and may the blessed month bring joy and light into our lives in obtaining God’s blessings and forgiveness.

Thursday Thump

In response to the defeat on Saturday, Arsenal thwarted FC Twente's efforts last night BST in their follow-up encounter at the Emirates. Samir Nasri scored the first goal after wrong-footing two defenders with a sublime turn before firing in a low shot. Gallas added the second goal after the break by slotting home the ball that rebounded from the goalie's block. Walcott got his just reward for his superb display when he curled a low shot past the goalie and Bendtner completed the rout just for good measure. Read about the match here, here and here and Wenger’s reaction here. For more pictures, go here.

The Gunners were firing at last. They thumped Twente as the latter slumped.

And here are some of the photos of the match.

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I fell on my rump with a thump this morning on the porch. The porch never was that Slippery When Wet before. A string of colourful curses pierced the fresh morning air as I picked myself up only to fall down again. A fresh string of curses picked on where I left off on this double trouble. I went in to calm myself down as was feeling weak and shaking all over like a leaf before venturing out again.

Funny (not in a ha-ha manner), I was just thinking of how hurtful it must be to those poor footie players who are tripped or fouled upon and those poor goal keepers who fly here and there while saving the ball. Now I have my question answered and not pleasantly too. But I’m sure it hurts a hell of a lot more to fall on a hard slippery porch (and twice too) than on the immaculate field at the Emirates Stadium.

Aye, I now have a bump on my rump.

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The mate I mentioned in yesterday’s post dangled an olive branch to me this morning. I refused to reply to his message and told him I wasn’t talking to him when he came over. I think I will not accept the olive branch yet and leave it dangling a bit longer before untangling our dispute.

Random Thoughts On A Rainy Evening

I firmly subscribe to the idea that we don’t stop playing because we grow old but that we grow old because we stop playing. Yes, I play pranks occasionally - not as much now as I used to regretfully - but I am aware that society frowns on what it deems childish behaviour from someone who is no longer a child. Unfortunately. Every now and then, I enjoy a good joke by playing hide-and-seek with my friends or nieces and nephew, or sometimes I hide and scare them when they pass by. I don’t see anything wrong with that as I think it’s mainly harmless and not offensive.

I do, however, take exception when people tease me or make fun of me. I truly can’t stand it and I’d react emotionally and this will just aggravate the situation further as my friends will pounce on my weakness and tease me further. I’d respond by reacting in turn and so on. Just what they want to see of course.

Yesterday, I was feeling annoyed with a mate. I usually feel irritated with him because he finds pleasure in teasing and poking me (not physically of course) – among other things, alluding I’m a Vietnamese (and let it be known that I am almost positive I don’t have any darn Vietnamese blood coursing through my veins, not that I have anything against them). He knows my weak spot and as usual, in this latest instance, attacked it mercilessly and I responded back. In my annoyance, I asked him if anyone has ever told him that he is an irksome, irritating, annoying, cocky, arrogant person. He implied I wasn’t the first person to tell him so and told me to drop the matter. I then told him that his problems are that when confronted with his weak spot, he ignores it instead of addressing it; and that when someone gives him some critique, he just brushes it off. And I couldn’t jolly well just ignore it because I was bristling inside!

He finds joy in poking me and seeing my reaction to it as he knew I would. The silly girl that I am fall for it Everytime hook, line and sinker. In my anger yesterday, I told him that if he finds pathetic pleasure in making fun of people, in irritating them, then he can just stay in that childish state of mind. Surely seeking pleasure at the expense of me is mean, if not malicious.

The difference between my idea of being playful is that I don’t intend malice on me but find joy in making people flustered. I enjoy trying to irritate people as I know only too well how annoying it is.

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I was at the KLCC Convention Centre with some colleagues some time back waiting for our transportation back to the office. We were chatting when a car pulled up and out stepped a girl with a Caucasian. The chap next to me wondered out aloud why she couldn’t settle for a nice, local lad instead of a foreigner. What was so great about Caucasians, he wondered. I decided not to say anything as I didn’t want to spoil our camaraderie spirit.

A few days ago, I was browsing through an old friend’s online album: she is married to an American and is now based there. Her children are beautiful and adorable as most children of mixed marriages are but what caught my attention were the pictures of her husband. Now, my friend is a sweet and pretty lady, has always been so, and she looks great now. Her husband, on the other hand, is bald and looks so much older than her. My other colleagues gathered to take a look and questioned her choice of husband: why settle for a foreigner when there are a lot of eligible local lads available? And strangely enough, I felt the need to defend my friend and said simply maybe she was fated to marry a foreigner. I wanted to say so much more of course.

I don’t understand why people even need to comment on something like that. Just because a girl goes out with a Caucasian or someone who is not from the same ethnic group, it doesn’t necessarily mean she rejects her roots or culture (although there are instances of that in some cases, with the local lass appearing and behaving more Caucasian-like than her partner!). Or thinks she is too good for local lads. Because there is no guarantee that a marriage with a local guy would necessarily work and instead of thinking she is too good for the local boys, she may actually be thinking that she is not good enough.

So next time, when you see someone looking a bit different, acting a bit different, having something different, please don’t judge that person immediately. And this is as much a reminder to myself as it is to all.

Nihil Desperandum

I have my fair share of life’s bad luck and misfortunes and committed some silly mistakes. Well, we all make mistakes because to err is only human. But how do we deal with these setbacks? It’s all too easy to assign the blame for whatever that goes wrong on another – the other party, your bad luck, even God – instead of assuming responsibility.

I try to own to my mistakes and take the blame for them. In fact, sometimes I think I am too hard on myself. I kick myself mentally, I scold myself repeatedly, I question my past actions and decisions, and I examined and analysed what I did wrong, where I went wrong and what I could have done to prevent them. I get angry with myself first before I succumb to despair.

But we all know (or should) that mistakes and failures and setbacks are there for one thing: to help you recognise them and address your weakness; to make you take full ownership for your action, bad decisions and misjudgements; and to try correct them. Most importantly, you should learn from them. That’s why I think and believe that it’s OK to make mistakes because mistakes and failures (even setbacks) provide vital lessons – not that you should go on making mistakes but that you should learn from them to avoid making the same mistakes twice. Also, they help us realise that we don’t and won’t always get what we want (and I learnt early on that I won’t get my way all the time), that things won’t go our way all the time (sometimes I feel like things get so bad that I wonder if they could get any worse). And I believe making mistakes doesn’t make one a failure.

True, life sucks, once in a while. But do we deal with it or be in denial? Do we face them head-on or do we run away? Do we learn from our mistakes and deal with them or do we refuse to acknowledge our part in it? Do we take control of our lives (or try to) and destiny and future or do we want to let other people control us? Do we rethink our strategies and approach to life having learnt from the mistake or do we adapt the same approach? So though I do allow myself time to wallow in despair while I kick myself mentally as I ponder over my setback, soon after I’d bounce back (OK, sometimes not that soon, or not as soon as I like but I bounce back anyway eventually. Take your time but don’t take too long.). I’d tell myself that either I learn from the bad experience and correct my mistake and move on or remain in depression. I’d tell myself that I’m a fighter, that I can do this and that I will not give up. I mean, it’s only life after all. We’ll all get through it and die one day. Whoever said that life will be a smooth-sailing rose garden anyway?

I was down and depressed the whole of yesterday and all because Arsenal lost to Fulham. That was mighty silly and foolish of Arsenal to lose so early in the season and to Fulham of all opponents too. It made me feel somewhat betrayed - that my loyalty for them was not reciprocated with a win (hey, I even sacrificed my beauty sleep to watch the match), that they didn’t try hard enough. They were playing indifferently – I think that’s the word to describe it – and only tried to salvage the match in the last 10 minutes. It also pointed to a disturbing fact: that Arsenal could be more dependent on Fàbregas more than they think they are and his absence in the past two matches have been acutely felt. Or maybe the Gunners lack more players to rotate. Sure they are a young squad but I don’t think age necessarily translate into experience or wisdom.

Fàbregas also mourns Arsenal’s defeat, as do I. *Sniff*

I try to look at it positively telling myself that if anything, it’s better that Arsenal lost early on in the season than later (like the past season). This way, they’d learn from their mistakes, they’d learn not to repeat those mistakes and finally wake up from their summer slumber. Even ManUre didn’t start their last season well. But still to lose so early on and to Fulham!!! (OK, I’m getting angry all over again). Unacceptable! It’d be better of course if they didn’t lose but hey, they didn’t play well, I’ll admit that. Wenger also acknowledged this and there’s only one route to take: bounce back.

So it’s a bitter lesson for Arsenal and a bitter result for their supporters to swallow (how I dreaded coming to work today and face the unkind, inconsiderate taunts of my colleagues. Thankfully most of them realise it’s better for them to not say anything to me) but hey, like I said, one mistake does not make one a failure. Just don’t keep doing it and don’t let the past repeat itself.

So the point is (if you haven’t already gotten it), whatever setback that befalls you (be it a failed paper, a lost opportunity at a dream job, a failed relationship), persevere. It’s OK to lament and wallow in despair but pick yourself up again, fight back and bounce back because the world loves nothing better than to see a fallen hero who fights back - and the world will cheer for him too. As long as you refuse to acknowledge your part and contribution in your mistake and blame another, you will always be a victim. Accept your shortcomings, it’s all part of humility. And I still have faith in both Arsenal and FedEx: you’ll bounce back (you’d better!). Come on Arsenal (and FedEx)!

And remember this always: Nihil Desperandum, Auspice Deo. I shall leave you with the following poetry:

NIL DESPERANDUM!
by Abdullah Quilliam

Courage brother! Do not falter,
Dry your tears and cease from sighing;
Though clouds look black, they soon may alter,
And the sun will send them flying.

‘Out of evil oft cometh good,’
Is a maxim to my liking;
The blacksmith well the iron beateth,
But ‘tis better for his striking.

Work today and give up grieving,
Know that joy is born of sorrow;
And though to-day is rainy weather,
Hap ‘twill brighter be to-morrow.

Gambling doth not make our labour
The least bit more a pleasant task;
‘Tis joyful heart that lightens trouble,
Contentment brings to those who ask.

First the childhood, then the manhood;
First the task and then the story;
‘Tis after nightfall comes the dawning,
First the shade and then the glory

Woodland Towers, Onchan
Isle of Man

23rd October 1904

Playground Lessons

Today I am going to talk briefly about my alma maters. My first alma mater has a special place in my heart as this is where my friends and I spent the bulk of our teenage lives in that then small town of Seremban. This is where I learnt about being independent, being far away from family, discipline, responsibility, time management and life in general. This is also where I made friends and cultivated friendship that remains to this day. We were having the time of our lives there (well, most of us anyway and most of the time. I hated my physical ed sessions, domestic science classes and Arabic lessons) and we were a pretty closely knit bunch.

Then when we entered our fourth year, we discovered that we would be having new fourth formers – the best-performing students from other schools – join us. ‘What? Why?’ we the thoroughbreds raged furiously on. Who decided on this? Why weren’t we consulted? What could we do to stop this? And worse still, the Social Science class which had traditionally been assigned the N letter would now be assigned the letter M. ‘Outrageous! Sacrilegious!’ we fumed hotly.

The inevitable happened. The new fourth formers (NFF) came. Some took a look at the situation and decided that befriending us was wiser. And we reciprocated albeit a little reluctantly at first until we realised they were there to stay. Of course there were those newcomers who chose to just ignore the rest of us and the rest of themselves and decided becoming bookworms were much better.

We learnt a lot of things from the NFF though it’s not easy to admit so (I’m sure they learnt a lot from us too). We learnt that we must now compete with these newcomers – in academics, sports, inter-form English dramas, inter-house dancing competitions - and work with them in inter-school debates and band competitions... it didn’t help that these newcomers were the top performers at their old schools. We sat up, took notice and bucked up, knowing that the bar had been raised. The sooner we accepted the situation, addressed it and dealt with it, the sooner we could move on. And by doing so, we weren’t stuck in the level of mediocrity that we may have fallen into had these newcomers not come into the picture. We stepped out of our comfort zone, took a long, hard look at ourselves and decided that we might as well accept the fact that they were there to stay and strive together with them in upholding the image and the excellence the institution is famed for.

All in all, I think that change brought about a change in the thoroughbreds (OK, there were still those lazy bummers who couldn’t be bothered to change. Well, that kind of people are everywhere anyway).

This Used To Be My Playground. Pictures googled and nicked from an old friend’s album

After O-Level, I then went on to do A-Level at a local college. We were a mixed bunch of people from all kind of backgrounds, ethnicity, income levels and religions but we got along well and we performed well too if I may say so myself. But there was another group of MARA students who were all Malays and, boy, I can seriously say they were not an inspired lot, what more hardworking. Subsequently I went to England to pursue my degree and returned there a few years later for my Master’s degree - and needless to say, of course over there one needs to compete with everyone from around the world, all types of backgrounds and religions.

So it was with some kind of surprise, despair and dismay that I discover about the protests by the UiTM students over the proposal for a 10% intake of non-Bumiputeras into UiTM. Seriously, if you can’t even compete with non-Bumiputeras at school, what are the chances of competing or integrating at the workplace? How do you expect them to compete regionally or internationally if they can’t even compete locally with other races? How do you ensure that these students’ minds evolve when they can’t even begin to consider the proposal without being emotional about it? How do you get them to be visionary, far-sighted, mentally matured and open-minded – after 51 years of independence, no less - when they can’t even view the suggestion with an open mind? Heck, there are even people in the office who were also up in arms about the proposal, so what do you expect from the students who could be easily their children (I know for a fact that at some UiTM campuses, the students were actually being called to have their protests)? Why is there even a need to politicise the subject when we know there are as many low- and middle-income non-Malays as there are Malays? How would we feel if a neighbouring country prohibits Malays from entering their universities? And if the US implements single-race universities, some only for coloured people and some only for white, I’m sure we will accuse them of racism.

Besides, I doubt that it is prescribed anywhere in the Constitution that the student composition at UiTM is part of the Malay special rights (I stand corrected).

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I was so happy to receive a friend request from an old playground mate: we’ve lost touch since our graduation. We used to chat in between our work assignments on various topics: clothes, fashion, travelling. He (yes, it’s a he and he does shop!) is one of the nicest English blokes around who didn’t care about my funny accent among other things. Maybe it’s because he himself is married to a Russian and hence is able to look beyond skin colour, background, creed, ethnicity and religion.

Red-Hot

I headed back to my parents on Saturday morning and had almost reached the bus stop when I realised that I’d forgotten my red toiletry bag. Duh! Had to retrace my steps and before long, I was drenched in perspiration (it didn’t help when you had a backpack) – it was so humid and hot. Cursed myself for being forgetful.

Stopped by at KLCC and then at Ampang Point for my dental visit. The process took shorter than the waiting time. I like to think that my pearly whites are in good condition – no filling required and no tartar build-up sighted – now if only they are whiter. The Payless Books at Ampang Point was having a sale and I ended up buying six books to add to my burgeoning collection.

Abah came to pick me up and dropped me off at the barber for my long overdue haircut. Dark clouds were already gathering overhead and the first and only thought that entered my mind was, ‘Oh God, if it rains, please let is top before 7 pm so that I could watch football tonight.’ Heh. If you think that was a weird request, wait ‘til you hear of my other numerous requests to God.

The 2008/2009 Premier League season finally kicked off Saturday evening with Arsenal hosting newly promoted West Bromwich Albion. Samir Nasri made an impressive debut by scoring his first Premier League goal for Arsenal and the first goal of the season too. Alas, the Gunners didn’t score any more after that early goal and I was getting increasingly frustrated. They were doing what they do best all right – playing beautiful football ... and making a lot of passes. Passed, passed, passed, passed, passed, passed ... but failed to score. They had plenty of possession but lacked penetration. I started getting red-hot and shouted at Arsenal (oh, I’m sure they could hear me thousands of miles away), so loudly that when my parents came back from the madrasah, they were surprised to hear the racket coming from inside the house only to find their red-blooded youngest child slumped in front of the tube. Abah remarked with a smile, ‘I was wondering what was going on in the house. It sounded like there was a quarrel going on.’ Mummy added, ‘Oh yes, she was arguing with the TV.’ Yes, I inherit my dad’s passion for football. And I can never watch footie quietly.

Went to the factory outlet Queen’s Park on Sunday but it was a disappointing visit. Watched the men’s badminton final along with millions of other Malaysians and was disappointed too.

Turned out I didn’t just forget my red toiletry bag (which I remembered to return back for) but also my scarf for today so had to hunt for a scarf, any scarf, at my parents’ to wear to work today. And because I could find only one floral red scarf that I could wear to work, (which doesn’t go with the skirt I initially planned to wear), I had to search for a suitable skirt or trousers ... now, if only I had not been so ditsy eh!

And the only available skirt in the wardrobe was the almost-forgotten Tangs chilli red skirt. Of course it goes along with my new pepper red LeSportsac hobo.

If anyone decides to comment, I’ll say that red is the auspicious colour for the Chinese and I’m wearing red today in view of the on-going Olympic Games and the coming mid-Autumn festival ...

Or that I’m on red alert.

Either way, the colour of my dressing is not worth a red cent (but y’know, some people just like to comment on my dressing).

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I also watched the Everton-Blackburn match. Paul Ince’s (who made his Premier League managerial debut) Blackburn was brilliant and quite dominant especially in the first half. It was an exciting match though Everton took a while to find their tempo falling back before equalising just before the half time. Then they doubled their lead but they forgot the old saying: you are always at your most vulnerable shortly after you score. And they were punished by dishy Roque Santa Cruz before losing the match in the 90th minute. I wonder if David Bentley and Mark Hughes have started to regret their decision to leave Blackburn already (and whatever was the former thinking by moving to Spurs when most of Spurs actually dispersed?! Silly guy). Liverpool’s Nando struck a late win to defeat Sunderland by a scoreline similar to Arsenal.

Elsewhere, newly promoted Hull City made an impressive debut to come back from behind and beat foolish Fulham. Fulham are never good at defending their lead and it seemed they have not yet learnt the lessons of the past season. And on Super Sunday, Chelshit beat Pompey impressively, Villains beat Man Shitty and ManUre held to a draw. Hahaha!

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Am just back from a lecture. It was quite interesting for an economics-related lecture. But what caught my attention (besides the presence of Eric) was the cat which appeared on stage twice; it then ran the length of the auditorium before returning to the stage and slipping away. Who let the cat out, eh!

10 Things I Hate About You

Not in any particular order:

1. You are full of yourself.
2. You are bloody arrogant, cocky, conceited and pompous.
3. Your puking strutting makes me sick. Heck, your very puking presence and existence make me sick.
4. You’re so vain – even though you’re downright ugly (I have nothing against ugly people because I’m a plain Jane myself)
5. You are nauseatingly boring.
6. You think the world of yourself.
7. You think you are invincible.
8. You think everyone loves and adores you.
9. When things go wrong, you think the whole world is against you.
10. You don’t accept defeat gracefully.

Yes, I hate you. All of you. The whole squad of ManUre (which reeks so badly, I’m refusing to even acknowledge your full name). And I hate all the naffing lunatic fans too. Why, only yesterday afternoon, some ManUre supporter had the temerity to comment on Arsenal’s silverware-less state of last season. It was all I could do from telling him to eff off and punch him in the face. Why not tell me something I don’t already know instead of insulting my intelligence? It’s OK for Gooners to criticise the Gunners but not for others, and especially not supporters of the stinking club, to do so (just like it’s ‘acceptable’ or understandable for Malaysians to lament the way things are done in the country but it’s never OK for outsiders to do so). Get it?

And I hate your Froggie too.

ABU!

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The 2008/2009 EPL season kicks off tomorrow finally. Hope Arsenal will do another stunt on West Brom as they inflicted upon then promoted Derby last season. And I hope that Arsenal will start scoring in the first half instead of coming back from behind or scoring in the last 15 minutes as they are increasingly prone to doing.

Twente Questions

I woke up unaided by alarm somehow this morning and decided to watch the delayed match. Was surprised to find the local supporters singing ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ (it turns out this anthem is sung before every kick-off) and for a while wondered if Astro SuperSport was showing the Liverpool-Liege match again by mistake.

Arsenal scraped a win thanks to goals from Gallas and Adebayor but the team looked like it really missed Fàbregas, Toure and Diaby. So whatever Twente questions that may have been raised before are now answered. Arsenal must be very good or very lucky to win with that kind of performance and especially with the absence of their influential midfielder matador.

The difference between Arsenal and other teams is that the Gunners are interested and passionate about playing football. The other teams are interested in winning matches. Of course, we also want to win but it’s not the sole aim. There’s an important distinction there which is manifested when you see Fàbregas make an unexpected pass but which on hindsight seemed completely logical and inevitable. But sometimes, a win is more important, especially if they have been playing a lacklustre game.

Toure and Samir Nasri should be fit for the league opener but it looks like my fabulous Fab will still be out for the Saturday match. So until then, let’s look back at a wonderful summer (though it’s not yet over of course!).

Yes, Fàbregas, we know what you did there during your summer break.

Olympic Weekend

The 29th edition of the Olympic Games kicked off on Friday evening with much pomp and splendour – alas, I missed the Malaysian team make their appearance. It looked like the Chinese have handled everything pretty well so far and orchestrated everything to a tee. I couldn’t help thinking how magnificent and what an honour it’d be to any athlete to be representing his country.

Saturday morning was TheOrganisation’s annual dinner. I went out in the morning with a view to returning home by afternoon for a rest and did what I’d never done before: got a manicure and pedicure (OK, I’d gotten a complimentary manicure before) and no, it wasn’t because of the dinner but it was something I’ve wanted to try out and experience. The Filipino nail person (I couldn’t quite figure out if she was actually a he or a genuine she) told me that my nails were dry and that manicure and pedicure should be done on a monthly basis. Righttt... doubt I’ll be doing another any time soon, what with the new Premier League season (finally) looming over because I’m sure I’ll be chewing my nails as I watch the matches. I like to keep my nails short and the nail person reacted with some surprise when he/she saw my short toenails and asked if they have problems growing.

I then did a quick grocery shopping before having lunch. Oh, and I did something I never thought I’d do: buy a pair of Crocs! I’m getting nervous at the ease with which I’m using my plastic now.

I was starting to feel sleepy after lunch and did another thing I hardly ever do while shopping/window shopping: yawn. That was a sure cue as any for me to head home for a rest as it would be a long day and evening ahead.

My buddy, Elle, arrived shortly after half past five. We caught up with each other before I realised I needed to shower or we’d risk being late for dinner. The traffic wasn’t too bad for Saturday evening and we reached the hotel – coincidentally, the hotel has part of the current Olympic games tagline in its name - in 20 minutes (at one point when we stopped at a red light, the driver next to our car kept staring at us making me real uncomfortable. I asked Elle if we should engage him in a staring match but she said it’d be a waste of time and effort and I agreed).

There was an announcement that while there’s no theme to the dinner, everyone should at least be dressed in ‘smart casual’ clothes with jeans and t-shirts expressly forbidden. I noted though that while the girls were smartly decked out in their clothes, there were guys who couldn’t make the extra effort to dress up: I guess it takes too much time and effort to make oneself look presentable, to dress appropriately according to the occasion for a once-in-a-year event at a good hotel. Surely it’s not asking too much? While I for one would like nothing better than to dress casually on Saturday evenings, heck, on weekends, I try to make an effort. It’s not too much but clearly some guys felt otherwise. Why, there was this bloke next to our table in jeans!

This reminds me of wedding ceremonies and receptions here especially those held during the day. The girls would be demurely dressed in their traditional baju kurung or modern kebaya while the guys, well some guys would mostly be in shirts, t-shirts, or worse, footie jerseys. Like WTH!

Anyway, back to Saturday evening (I’m prone to digressing in case you haven’t noticed!): thank God Eric was in a smart lounge suit. I was The Lady In Red (well, various shades of red anyway).

I had a good time and enjoyed myself: the MC was good and not too OTT; Buddy Loren was wickedly fabulous and he had me in stitches – I was laughing so much and enjoying myself tremendously throughout his brilliant performance; Sheila Majid gave a professional performance; the food was good; the company at the table excellent; and no smokers milling about outside the ballroom. I was as usual involved in the spirit of things, singing along to songs, swaying to the music, laughing hard at jokes, even playing the angklung enthusiastically.

Alas, I didn’t get what I never got before: win a lucky draw prize.

We left after midnight – we spent the arduous wait to exit the car-park in heavy discussion – but not to worry, I’m no Cinderella.

Sunday was spent with a brief sleep-in, watching the Olympics and finishing my novel.

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Arsenal came back from behind after trailing by two goals to beat Ajax Amsterdam in the last 25 minutes of the Amsterdam Tournament match on Friday evening (hmm, wonder if the host were going ‘Amsterdamn it!’). I was glad to see my magnificent matador in action again. And though they went on to draw with Sevilla, it was still enough for Arsenal to lift the Amsterdam cup.

One World, One Dream

On this day, 08 August ‘08, at 08:08:08 pm, the 2008 Summer Olympics will be officiated. Boycotts and protests particularly over human rights violation and Tibetan independence have marred the preparation for this 29th edition of the Olympic – just as they had occurred at past Olympic Games. And as if those are not enough, China has been beset with environmental concerns – natural catastrophes and environmental issues.

But the show must go on and so it will.

Good luck to the host city and all athletes!

Isn’t this Google logo (or whatever you call it) of the five Fuwa mascots carrying the Olympic flag simply cute?

P.S.: Happy birthday to Odie who celebrates his birthday today!

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Arsenal came back from behind to beat Huddersfield in two late goals (how typical of Arsenal, even for the young Gunners!). Three goals in the last 15 minutes (including the opening from the host). Not bad at all (and Nacer Barazite is pretty cute too)!

Go East

Abah and Mummy had wanted to make a return visit to the Islamic City and when I heard of it, I decided to come along to ensure they are all right. So I headed back to Ampang on Saturday (but not before stopping en route at KLCC; it seemed as if the whole Klang Valley had descended upon KLCC that Saturday) for our flight out was on early Sunday morning.

I was in KB (it wasn’t a city yet then) last with my friends. We had just finished our week-long orientation programme at Seri Kluang Camp in Besut and decided to follow the majority of other fellow students to the Islamic City by bus and back to KL from there. I can still remember us arriving at the bus station and being approached by a cab driver. He looked at me (I had yet to don the scarf then), smiled and asked, ‘You want to go to town?’, yes in those very words. I stared back at him uncomprehendingly and wondered, ‘Why is he talking to me in English?’. As if he heard my thought, he repeated his question, ‘You want to go to town?’ I would have remained there confused until one friend replied yes, we did indeed want to go to town. She then turned to me and said, ‘He must have thought you a Chinese.’ I wasn’t insulted but I couldn’t help wondering why the cabbie specifically directed his questions to me when I was with my friends. And I hope it’s not the same anywhere else: that service providers don’t just single out those who don’t look local (even if they are) at the expense of the others. But we know some salespeople prefer to serve Caucasians (even though they are shabbily dressed) and ignore local customers.

Anyway, back to the present day. We touched down at 0830 (so imagine what time we left home for the airport!) and took a cab to our hotel. After dropping our bags at the concierge, we walked over to Laman Siti Khadijah for breakfast. Then we entered the Siti Khadijah Central Market and spent some time there. This central market is abuzz with local produce at the ground floor; dry food (fish crackers, dried fish, anchovies, meat floss, chicken floss, fish floss, dodol etc) on the first floor; and handicraft and clothing items on the second floor. The traders are mainly women and boy, are they entrepreneurial. It was also a bit hot in there so make sure you go there early to pick your bargains. And, yes, bargaining is a must!

We left around noon and went back to the hotel. Had lunch at the hotel and guess where and what we had for lunch. No, not nasi dagang (red glutinous rice served with mackerel dish and a mixture of vegetables), not nasi kerabu (multi-coloured rice dish served with fresh vegetables and fish), and not even laksam (rice flour served with coconut gravy and fresh vegetables)... but we had dim sum lunch at the hotel’s Seasons Chinese Restaurant! The dim sum was good though and our fellow patrons were mainly Kelantanese Chinese who speak very fluent Kelantanese dialect, that if you don’t look up, you’d probably think it was the local Malays conversing to each other.

After checking in, we rested before going out in the evening to get dinner. This time, we bought nasi dagang and also some local delicacies. It rained very heavily shortly after so we missed the sunset over the Kelantan River. I had to ask my mate to update me on the F1 and Arsenal-Juventus match as there’s no Star Sports in the hotel room. She replied to say it was good of me to visit KB especially as I supposedly always go abroad. Replied back to say that I had been to KB before besides Kuching and KK (I’ve covered all states in Malaysia, alhamdulillah). And KB is AirAsia’s eighth most popular destination after KK, Kuching, Langkawi, Bangkok, Jakarta, Macau and Bali; and it is more popular than Shenzhen and Phuket.

On Monday, we left the hotel after breakfast and walked to Buluh Kubu Bazaar (selling mainly batik materials). I detoured briefly to Bank Pitis at Padang Bank, near The Grand Place (Istana Balai Besar). Then I went to Istana Jahar (a traditional and cultural museum – I didn’t go in though) and Masjid Muhammadi (the state mosque). It was getting very hot already and it was only 10 in the morning! So I rejoined Mummy and Abah and we went to the Central Market (yes, again). I parted with quite a bit of dosh here today. We also had mid-morning meal and lunch at the food court of the market. Vegetarians would have problems finding food though as a lot of dishes have meat (or bones) in it. If you like rice, there are a lot of heavy dishes such as big, fried prawns and cuttlefish and animal organs. The drinks stalls do not sell Coke, they prefer Pepsi: the choice of a new generation (I was tempted to buy a can bearing Fàbregas even though I don’t drink carbonated drink). We had to take a cab back to the hotel (the driver was handicapped, he had a stump where there should be his left hand) because we’d really spurred the local economy today!

That evening, I walked around alone and took some pictures. There were quite a few Caucasians around the city and I was pleased to note that they were brave (or curious?) enough to explore the city (and I know some Malaysians who have yet to set foot in the state, what more the city!). After traipsing around, I headed back to the hotel and relaxed by the pool area with my novel. Wanted to catch the sunset but alas, it was a hazy evening.

On Tuesday, I made another trip to the market area, to pick up my bangle which I sent for repair on Sunday. If you don’t already know, there are a lot of goldsmiths in KB (as in KT) and the price of gold in the East Coast is much lower than that in KL. I understand this is because the two states have their own price for gold and they do not adhere to the price fixed at the federal level (so you can imagine how powerful and rich the East Coast goldsmiths are). And the repair cost me a fraction (15%!) of what the goldsmith at Ampang Point quoted me!

Rushed back to the hotel and checked out. Had lunch at a nearby stall... like I said, vegetarians would have problems eating in Kelantan! Then we relaxed at the hotel lobby before taking a cab to the airport for our afternoon flight home.

To the tune of Pet Shop Boys’ ‘Go West’:

(Go East) Life is peaceful there
(Go East) In the open air
(Go East) Where the skies are blue
(Go East) This is what we’re gonna do

So, what are you waiting for? Go pack your bags and travel! (And not just explore the travel brochures!)

I’m So Vain

I’m so vain, I know this entry’s about me
I’m so vain, you know this entry’s about me
Don’t you, don’t you

Yes, this entry is about me, specifically about my wins over my friends in our online Scrabble games.

My first game: I scored the first bingo ‘AIBLINS’ then my mate retaliated with a bingo ‘SIPHONED’ and I put down the third consecutive bingo of the game ‘NAUTICAL’.

In my second game, I scored a hat-trick of bingos, ‘INSTEAD’, ‘NOISIER’ and ‘VANTAGES’.

And in this third game, I scored two consecutive bingos again, ‘NIMRODS’ and ‘SUNNIER’ and my mate retaliated to the second bingo with his ‘RECIPES’.

I love this game (and especially if I win/am winning of course!)! Hmm, when will I start competing internationally, if ever? Congratulations to Nigel Richards for winning the Scrabble Championship 2008.

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I can’t wait for the new Premier League season to kick off (and can’t wait to watch Arsenal and Fàbregas in action)!!! It’s been more than a month since Euro2008. I’m resigned to watching the Champions League reruns now besides tuning in to other sports (speaking of which, good luck to Lewis Hamilton for this weekend’s F1 in Hungary. Oh yes, Arsenal did score a perfect ten against Burgenland XI and subsequently beat Stuttgart - and Lehmann - 3-1 this week).

I’m sure Fàbregas can’t wait for the new season either.