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"Is it weird in here or is it just me?" Woody Allen



HOWDY! This is a platform for me to express myself. To bare my thoughts, emotions and life stories. Leaving bite-size pieces of me before I go. I graciously invite you to comment, swap stories and thoughts. Please post your comment or get in touch with me here.


OTHER HERMITS
ON THE BLOG.

alexandra wong
allyson
bawangmerah
consuela
dreams&sugars
jemima
lex
loopymeals
lynn wabbit
mooi
mrd
nawooz
peteteo
postsecret
scentofgreenbananas
simontalks
snippetsoflife
suyin
tequilamockingbird
thewritetherapy
uncletim
visithra
yvy


ARCHIVES.
09.03 10.03 01.04 02.04 03.04 04.04 05.04 06.04 07.04 08.04 09.04 10.04 11.04 12.04 01.05 02.05 03.05 04.05 05.05 06.05 07.05 08.05 09.05 10.05 11.05 12.05 01.06 02.06 03.06 04.06 05.06 06.06 07.06 08.06 09.06 10.06 11.06 12.06 01.07 02.07 03.07 04.07 05.07 06.07 07.07 08.07 09.07 10.07 11.07 02.08 03.08 05.08 09.08 10.08 12.08 02.09 04.09 05.09 06.09 07.09


FAVOURITES.
a rustic analysis*
bo leh*
buat donno*
jakun & boon cit - a love story. not.*
jingling nona*
many happy returns of the day, u sexy u*
love misunderstood*
no willy*
perfect man*
save me from this misery*
tan ah yam, i'm sorry*


INTERVIEWS & REVIEWS.
an interview with joe blogs*
woo! a review!*


TRAVELOGUES.
halong bay - you jump, i save you*
hanoi on my mind*
hanoi - in search of the pain-in-the-arse ice cream and other stories in between*
sungai petani, my hometown* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 1]
ozcapade* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 3a]
ozcapade* [pt 3b]
moomoo vista* [pt 1]
moomoo vista* [pt 2]
moomoo vista* [pt 3]
ah moy in paris* [pt 1]


CREDITS.
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.

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ah moy in paris* [part 1] 

I've been blessed to go to Paris for training recently. For a good 6 days from 16 – 21 May.

When the news of the trip broke, I held my composure.
"Be a cool cat", I told myself. Inside my heart, I was doing jumping feats and suave acrobatic somersaults on an imagery trampoline. But on the exterior, cool as a cat I remained.

"Please don’t pull my leg. If it's a joke, it’s so totally not funny." I told my boss.

"No, I am seriously not joking with you. Just wait and see," she replied.

Don't get me wrong here. I am not trying to be superficially obnoxious or arrogant. That’s not my intention at all. But I have had a handful of false alarms before, in my previous employment, which made me swore never to fall victim to such news until it actually happens. No more premature ejaculations of high-spirited emotions. The word 'control' does exists in my vocabulary.

Soon enough, the plane ticket was issued. It carried my name. Yeah, the whole name including the alias. But cool as a cat I remained still. Until I reached my car at the end of day, I shouted with joy. When I reached home, I jumped like a mad kangaroo high on Ecstasy. Not to the cool beat of boom, boom, boom - but more to 'yapadabadoo boom ba da boom, boom, boom.'

Then I spent the whole night microscoping the plane ticket to death. It all still seemed surreal. I think I slept with the ticket on my pillow that night. So 'suaku'...

The next day, I shared the news with all my close girlfriends. And with each sharing, I felt equally blessed when they responded as being truly excited for me. No female jealousy of sorts. Just genuine and sincere "Good on you! You deserved it." Of course, before that "You lucky bitch!" was thrown in as well. But they were really happy for me.

There was a saying that if you have 5 close friends in a lifetime, you're very lucky. Well, I think I have a higher count. So I consider myself extremely blessed. Yes, indeed.

Week before the flight was madness. Had to make sure everything was completed, but of course I was being too optimistic as usual. On actual flight day, I worked until 6.30pm before rushing home to do my last minute packing, then told the old taxi driver to depress the accelerator to the max. Any slower, I would have asked him to take the back seat and let me drive instead.

Reached KLIA early. So decided to feed my face with some Burger King - Whopper Jr meal with large onion rings. Yummy! Read an interesting article in Symbiosis magazine titled "Of Geniuses, Madmen and the League of Extraordinary Charlatans" by A. Azmy. The article struck a cord coz I have nicknamed 3 people 'Genius' as I really think they are highly intelligent beings with such deep passion for what they believed in. Such drive. They pursue their dreams albeit hardships and risks involved. I'm encouraged as a result.

Being full like a well-fed guinea pig, I slept snugly throughout the whole 11.5 hours flight. Had been awake for 36 hours the night before - so I was totally knocked out. Woke in time for breakfast before the plane landed.

Reached Paris at 5.30am local time, at the break of dawn, feeling totally refreshed. As we were walking towards our hotel from the Port Maillot stop, I found myself humming to the line "I danced again to the beat of your heart" (From 'Last Good Man' by Pete Teo). Yeah. Emotionally, I was dancing to the heartbeat of Paris. Took me a while to believe it was not a dream. And it felt awesomely Grrreeaattt!

July 26, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 7:15 am
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ditelan mati emak, diluah mati bapak* 

Maksud: Kesukaran dalam membuat sesuatu keputusan kerana apabila keputusan sudah diambil ia akan memberi kesan kepada yang menerimanya.
 
Translation: Mum dies if you swallow, dad dies if you spit  
Either decision will be painful

Breakups are so difficult. But it had to be done. And maybe, it's for the best.
Both parties will feel the pain. Definitely. 
What do you do if you fall in love with someone new, and you are already involved with another? Does it make a difference if you're the other party. The third one.
Does it make it easier to bear? To be the shit-stirrer. To be the root cause.   
Should you let go? Wait for the next bus? If you get to the right stop.
Or do you pursue and hold on dearly; he's the best thing since bah kut teh.
Bah! She will learn to move on. And find someone else.
Someone who will love her better. Surely.
And can you look at her in the eye and not feel her pain.
Have you forgotten what it felt like... The sense of betrayal. Anger. Pain.
Torments. The rude awakenings in the dead of night?
The deep longing. Reaching out. Crying out. Into nothingness. 
And can you be sure this is the prized winning? Who can tell? Only time.

The Weakness In Me
Joan Armatrading

I'm not the sort of person who falls in and quickly out of love
But to you I gave my affection right from the start
I have a lover who loves me, how could I break such a heart
Yet still you get my attention 
 
Feeling guilty, worried, waking from tormented sleep
This old love has me bound but the new love cuts deep
If I choose now, I'll lose out, one of you has to fall
And I need you, and you .     

July 18, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 12:55 am
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i am a cat* 

Based on my birth date, I have the characteristics of a cat.
Very accurate. Except for the fashion bird part. Meow.

If you are a Cat: An extremely lovable, adorable person, sometimes shy, with a passion for quick wit. At times, you prefer quietness. You love exploring various things and going into depth of each thing. Under normal circumstances you're cool, when given a reason to, you are like a volcano waiting to erupt. You're a fashion bird. People look forward to you as an icon associated with fashion. Basically, you mingle along freely but don't like talking much to strangers. People feel very easy in your company. You observe care in choosing your friends.

July 14, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:22 pm
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the gloved one* 

Had lunch with my client this afternoon. At the corner coffee shop adjacent to her office block.

As I sat down, the waiter came to take the order for drinks. He wears a hair band. Go figure.

"Soya Cincau," I told him.

He looked at me like I just ordered a tall glass of blue milk (Blue Milk? Think Star Wars. Think Luke Skywalker's fave drink.) or just spoke Marsian (Yeah. My broken Cantonese equals that)

"Soya Cincau," I repeated, louder this time. He raised his left eyebrow slightly. Just then, one other waitress came to my rescue.

"Khoi oi Michael Jackson lah," she quipped.
("She wants a 'Michael Jackson'".)

"Oooooh!," he replied while nodding his head before walking away.

Ha. Hilarious!
But brilliant, nonetheless.

July 13, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 3:33 pm
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the love of my life* 

The year was 1999. The year I partied like crazy with the Purple Highness. I was about to embark on the best relationship in my whole entire life. Not that I have a lot of relationships to begin with. Ha. But that's not the point.

But anyway, I chanced upon this relationship due to sheer desperation. Life sucked big time. Had two dumbwits in my life - one for a big boss and one for a boyfriend. Between the two, I was forced to the wall. And Spidey, I was not - so I was trapped. With no way out.

That's when Gin asked me, kindly, and sincerely, if I would like to visit her church. "Maybe Jesus can help," she said. "Please. Give it a try. What do you have to lose?"

So off to her church I went on that sunny October Sunday. Worship session has started. "I am gonna regret this", I silently hit myself by the rear end. Mentally, that is. By the second worship song, I felt a kaleidoscope of emotions toiling within me. It welled up and the dam broke. I could not hold myself and the tear duct. "Now, who's the dumbwit, dumbwit?," I silently asked myself.

The tear ducts behaved themselves during the sermon. I had taught them well, I supposed. Right after the service, a brother Caleb offered to pray. "I wanted to feel peace again,' I told him. Emotions ran high and the dam broke for the second round. Then I heard a louder cry beside me. I sneaked open my wet eyelids only to see Gin crying worst than me. That immediately stopped all my tears. Gosh, I thought I was the one in pain and here she is crying like a cow!

"I didn't know what came over me! I felt so much of pain and I just could not control myself!", Gin confessed during lunch. We still laugh about this incident till today.

Anyway, the next day, I went to work as usual. But it was not an ordinary day. When I came face-to-face with the Boss Dumbwit, I was emotionally numb. I had no feeling. No hate. No evil thoughts. No 'Psycho' knife pose. No nothing. I just felt peace. Like I had no care in the world. The burden has been lifted.

This is great. Jesus, if this is your work. Thank you. I can really feel this peace within me. Thank you. You are really alive and real. I cannot explain this, but I thank you.

I accepted Christ as my Lord and Saviour that following Friday. During cell! It just felt right. And that's sufficient.

From then on, Jesus has been very real - in every single course of my life. He has been there, without fail. Looking after me. Knocking me on the head when I act silly. Beat me to my own sarcasm. And dark sense of humour. Protecting me. Whispering sweet nothings to me. Remind me of unhealed scars and help me to close the chapters. Tucked me to a deep, peaceful slumber. Waking me up in the middle of the night to yak away my blues. My unfailing on-the-dot alarm clock. Kissed me with a ray of warm sunshine on weekend mornings. My moondance. My confidante at desperate hours. My greatest joy at my best hours. My best friend, always. Rain or shine.

And I never looked back...Never need to.

Jesus, I love you lots. And lots. And though I have been feeling extremely blue this past month, I know my soul must sing. Coz I have found you.

"The Lord is my Shephard. I shall not want."

(Note: Read another similar dedication called 'Perfect Man')

July 12, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:33 am
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no hugs* 

Had a long heart-to-heart talk with a close guy friend last night. We talked about anything and everything under the sun. Oh, how i missed conversations like this. With him; my gorgeous one.

'Gorgeous' is his name. Well, at least that's what I nicknamed him and that has stuck for years. I have this weird habit to nickname people that I know...mostly guys.

Yeah, back to Gorgeous. He is truly gorgeous. In personality. In outlook. Inside out, he is a gorgeous person. The drop dead type. The type who can wear Pagoda singlet, torned jeans and FungKeong slippers and yet will pass off as a fashion icon. And did I mention the abs? The number remains as six. And Gorgeous is a true gentleman. The type that opens the door for you, take a bow and say "My lady shall go first." And best of all, he is not gay!

Yet, I never drool for him. Never suffer from dehydration for him. No horny chemistry when it comes to him. Never need to take cold shower for him. Why? I don't know. Never see him in that light, I suppose.

We talked about life in general. About past mistakes. Regrets. New ambitions. Aspirations. And then he asked me...what is the one thing you would like to change about yourself now? I thought for a while. And a while longer.

Then I replied, "I wish I was not such a cold fish."

"Haha. Whaddya mean by 'cold fish', you silly girl?

"Exactly that - cold fish. I wish I can hug better."

"But you hug me quite well, what!. In fact, I have to force you to let go. Haha!"

"Haha. Funny. Only with you lah. But I turn into a cold fish with others. Even with girls. I think I was a cactus in my previous life. Yeah, I'm sure of it."

"Ok, cold fish cactus...want me to run through a Hugging 101 course for you, hm? Free of charge. By the end of the sessions, you will be a hugging queen."

"And why are you being so kind, may I ask?"

"Another reason to have your boobs against my chest, I suppose. For free, some more!"

I rolled my magazine and whacked his head silly.
And secretly, I look forward to the lesson to un-coldfish me.
Gonna be a steaming fish now. Hee.

July 07, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:15 am
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itchy hands strike again* 

Gloomy July sky.
And I miss my baby.
Got three hours to kill.
Scratching head to mastermind murder strategy.
Blank.
Then hands got itchy.
A beat.
And the bulb lits on top of head.
Haa! Give the blog a new facelift.
Hands and head agree, and went to work almost immediately.

Tadaa.
Am proud to present the new face for anjalispeaks.
Gorgeous, eh? Dark and mysterious. Yet feminine.
No Botox. No injection.
Maybe I'm just born with it...

July 03, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 4:36 pm
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