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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.


alexandra wong
lynn wabbit

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

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*

an interview with joe blogs*
woo! a review!*

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]

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bergly disappointed* 

Leeds told me about this "Pay Less Books" bookstore in Atria when she shared the Matt Groening "Love Is Hell" book, which she bought for a RM15 steal. And then my boss told me about how good the Atria rojak buah was.

So off I went to Atria (aboden, where else!) during lunch time yesterday.

The rojak buah? Ermm... the Otak Udang was too watery for my liking. And I found it bland. Therefore, my vote for the Best Rojak Buah in Klang Valley would be the mobile stall in front of MPH Bangsar. Anyone wanna contest my vote, hm?

Then I head off to the infamous bookstore. It's one floor above Victoria Music Centre. Very well laid out. Cozy. Homey. It was manned by a young Eurasian chubby talkative chap. (Actually, he was talking to another yakky customer in her 40's. And I was busy combing through the racks with both my ears peeled. Coz I sibuk. Heh!) In my half hour there, I learnt these about him.

1. For the first time in a long, long while, he went out drinking with friends at Sri Hartamas and got really pissed drunk. While being pissed, he made a pass a woman patron and got her mobile number.
2. Being guilt-ridden over the situation, coz he already has a girlfriend, he's gonna give the number to his buddy.
3. And he lost the store keys. But he is a good boy - he admitted to the owner and the owner passed his another set of duplicates.
4. He hopes God will send him a million bucks, so that he will be happy. (Ha. Don't we all?)

Ok. I shall stop here lest I scare you away with my stalking traits. And I don't want you all to go checking this dude out and look at him funnily.

I do, after all, intend to be a regular customer there.

When I got to the Fiction aisle, I looked for the "B" rack for Berg. It was then I cursed under my own breath. I found three Elizabeth Berg's books - Range of Motion, The Pull Of The Moon & What We Keep - and they cost RM6 each! And I bought them at RM35 per book!


It was at that very moment, I had visits from the "Angel Anjali" on my left shoulder and "She-Devil Anjali" on my right. And they were having WW3 among themselves.

She-Devil Anjali - "Aiyo! It's bloody cheap! Buy them all! No one should have the luxury to get Elizabeth Berg's books so cheaply!"

Angel Anjali - "No. Put them down, Anjali. Be a good girl. Let others enjoy the books. Why don't you tell your friends about this good news and let them enjoy the good fortune."

She-Devil Anjali - "Are you out of your stinking mind? No, Anjali, buy them all."

Angel Anjali - "But she already has those books!"

She-Devil Anjali - "Yes. That's exactly my point! Buy them and keep them! Then you can give away the new books as Christmas presents! And your friends will love you for it!"

Angel Anjali - "You don't give away used books as Christmas presents!!!"

She-Devil Anjali - "And who's to know? Unless you open your big mouth!"

Angel Anjali - *gasp in horror* "Pardon me, I don't have a big mouth! Please listen to me, Anjali, leave the books back on the rack. Go on...you can do it. You have a strong will power!"

Well, after much struggle trying to pull myself out of the strong dark side *The Imperial March lingers at the background*, I did put the books back. Very reluctantly. And I heard myself hissing, "My preciousssss".

She-Devil Anjali - "Wimp!"

Anyway, I got myself this book - How To Live With A Neurotic Cat by Stephen Baker. For RM6.90. I hope the book will make me understand Smokey better.

Oh well. So go ahead and get those Elizabeth Berg books before I change my mind!


June 26, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 5:55 pm

love understood, i hope* 

Image hosted by Photobucket.comOk, I shall dwell on the same subject of 'L-O-V-E' but from a different perspective. Not as crabby this time. I hope.

I finished my 8th Elizabeth Berg book, Say When, last week. The book revolves around the character called Griffin, who struggles to save his marriage after his wife, Ellen told him she was having an affair with a younger man who makes her feel "alive" and has asked him for a divorce. The book also takes us on Griffin's self realization journey to understand his contributing role in the dwindled marriage.

Having completed the book, I still find myself going back and forth to three conversations, which were very compelling, poignant and profound. Very. Elizabeth Berg's writing does that to me. Every single book, without fail.

I will share one of the three conversations with you. Take this as a continuation from the last post. The conversation will champion this key point to singletons - You complete yourself.

Griffin informed Evelyn, his secretary, about his divorce. The conversation got them to the topic of why Evelyn never got married, after losing her lover in a car accident when she was nineteen. She self-assuredly said the one she lost was THE ONE for her. And she explains...

"I suppose we all think of other roads, Mr. Griffin. But... I don't know, maybe I can't explain this so that you can understand. But the love I have for that young man was enough, somehow. I know right after he died that I would never feel that way again. I knew it. And I never did. So I wasn't surprised by that; I was never bitter. It was just...my life, what was given to me. I accepted it. I cherished it."

"I have to ask you though - don't you get lonely?"

"Oh, well." She laughed a little. "There is more in the world than a marriage and children, Mr. Griffin. More than a love relationship. I have friends. I sing in the choir at church. I travel, I read, I go to plays and concerts. I have a little gray cat that sleeps at the foot of my bed. I buy outrageously expensive cheeses and I eat them all. And you know, I still love that boy. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him. He lives on in my heart. And in that way, I have love in my life, too." She leaned forward, spoke earnestly. "You see? I feel lucky to have found such a love. So many people don't." She smiled. "You shouldn't feel sorry for me!"

"It's true that I used to."

"Yes, a lot of people do."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

He stood, straightened his tie. "You know, I'm really glad you told me all this, Evelyn."

"I am, too."

[Honestly, I would recommend this book to everyone; irregardless of whether you are single or married. Go buy and read. And with that, I hope I have done my minor part to promote this wonderful writer by the name of Elizabeth Berg.]

June 25, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 8:46 pm

love misunderstood* 

Last week, I had supper with a friend. Ya, a friend. We've known each other for about three years now. Mostly just hi's and bye's. A couple of times, he shared his collection of portraits and travel pictures taken. So close friends, we’re not. Just friends. But I digress...

On the second bite of the grilled fish, he poured out his heart and gut. Mostly about how unhappy he was with life in general. With his life. With his work. With his dwindling love life or the lack of it. With his church. With his church members. With his Cell. With his cell leader. With his pastor. With the pastor's sermons. With God. With God's and his unanswered prayers. The list went on and on. And on.

Here is a picture of a falling man. A falling Christian man. And it hurt me to see him so. More than I realised. And after much self reflection, I realised why it upset me.

Since the days of Adam, no man (or woman) ever wants to live his life on earth on his own. He needs a partner. Rightly so, God took one of his ribs to create Eve. (And is that why I love ribs so? Haa.) And then they were happy. They explored the jungle together. They explored each other. And then sin paid them a visit. Thereafter, they had to work hard to keep that love.

Nothing has changed since.

Even in this modern age, a single person who has exceeded the age of 30 will be perceived as an outcast if one is not married. It's not so bad if you're seriously dating someone. The key assumption here is soon the wedding bells will ring. But try being relationship-less. For me, the worst thing is when that single person perceives him / herself as an outcast for that very aforesaid reason.

And that is what has happened to that friend of mine.

It's no longer the case of peer pressure. It's his self-inflicted pressure upon himself.

And that's where I start to get frustrated with him.

If you are generally unhappy with yourself, can you totally believe that another person can tra-la-la into your life and turn it around 360º and make you happy?

If you wake up every morning in disgust and you moan, "Oh no, here goes another loveless unhappy day." And you feel like slapping your reflection in the mirror silly and in disgust. Can you seriously think that someone can really make you happy when you can't? And if she can, how long will it last? How long can the other person upkeep her own happiness amid your black soul?

If you have no love for yourself, how do you love another?

If there is no ion of love in you for yourself, where do you find the love for another? Any love found will be created out of desperation to please and to mask your self-loveless ness. And how do you love another when you can't even love God?

Why do you consider yourself "incomplete" just because you are not in a relationship?

Everyone is born a complete person. Thus, there is no such thing as finding a person to "complete" you. The line "You complete me" is best left to Tom Cruise and to Hollywood. What bollocks! If there’s anytime you should feel incomplete is when you don’t have God in your life!

A good partner should complement you and your lifestyle. Not to complete it.

And why should being single be so miserable?

Can you not accept that maybe this is the time for God to prepare you for the right person out there? To mould you to be her perfect match? To mould you to be more Jesus-like? And vice versa?

It's always about the journey and not the destination that matters. Why don't you make your single hood journey a fulfilling one? Not to your standard but to God’s. Why don't you learn to enjoy smelling the single hood roses? What's your rush? If you know that God is in control, then you should understand that his timing is always perfect.

And don't you know that it's always better to be in no relationship than to suffer in a bad one. Haven’t you been in many bad ones already? Are you a sadist? Any relationship that starts from a wrong footing will never end right.

And do you think the journey ends when you say "I do"?

That's merely ending the singleton journey and entering the new chapters of couple hood. And with a new journey tags along a whole new set of hurdles, problems and headaches. But if you have the right person sharing that journey with you, both of you can make it a blessed and rosy one.

So there.

I am upset how anyone cannot learn to comprehend all that.

And I get even more upset that he was unwilling to even try to listen.

I should not be upset. I am after all, not his keeper as Navi said.

But upset, I am.

June 15, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 9:55 am

to love or not to love* 

To love is to suffer.
To avoid suffering one must not love,
but then one suffers from not loving.
Therefore, to love is to suffer,
not to love is to suffer,
to suffer is to suffer.
To be happy is to love,
to be happy then is to suffer
but suffering makes one unhappy,
therefore to be unhappy one must love
or love to suffer
or suffer from too much happiness.

I hope you're getting this down...

- Woody Allen

And is it any wonder why I wanna have his brain for supper?

June 10, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 6:38 pm

many happy returns of the day, u sexy u* 

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* Please allow me 20 seconds to totally lose my dignity here *

Happy 47th Birthday, O Purple Highness!
Have I ever told you that you are the sexiest man alive? Oh yes, you are. Though you only meet the dark and handsome bits, you do make up the height with the 6” platform shoes. Yes, those platform shoes. Emm…nice. I like. A lot. A lot lot. A lot lot lot. Seriously, Nothing Compares 2 U. Let’s celebrate your birthday by living a Pop Life, enjoying doing simple daily things like reading The Morning Paper together. Let's Go Crazy, let's pretend it's 1999 and we can go Around The World In A Day. Or play hide-and-seek in your Little Red Corvette. Or go play at Christopher Tracy's Parade. And then go drenched ourselves in the Purple Rain and do things that will make my cell leader blush. And maybe have Seven children together. Heh. And lastly, I will give you a big fat Kiss, Under The Cherry Moon.


Wipe grin.

June 07, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 12:30 pm

holy smoke* 

I woke in cold sweat this morning.

It's strange. The dream, I mean.


One, Smokey could speak.

Two, he delivered some kittens!

Scenario - I was sleeping (but of course!) and Smokey came into the room, jumped on the bed and screamed in joy.

"Hey wake up. Meow. You're a grandma!"

Rubbing eyes. "Huh?"

"I just delivered 6 kittens this morning! So congratulations, grandma!"

"Kittens? Six of them?? How can that be??? I thought you were a male!"

"No, I'm a female."

"Whoa...wait a minute. I know how to differentiate the genital ya...even for a cat!"

"Err...apparently not!"

"What do you mean - not? What about the hanging dollops? Females don't have that ya!"

"Whatever. Focus on the bigger picture here, grandma. I am not in the mood to argue with you on my sexual properties. I am telling you I have 6 kittens in the kitchen and they are eager to meet their grandma!"

"No...wait. Who is the father then? Or is it mother. I'm confused! You're in the house the whole time. When did this "encounter" happen? There's no other cat on this floor! And when did you get pregnant???"

"It just happened. And I am not disclosing any details. So tell me, you wanna meet your grandkittens or not?"

So we walked to the kitchen and I have 6 miniature Smokeys in the cage. Yes, they looked as cute as ever. More so, when they called me "Grandma!"

Then I woke.

Smokey was lying with me at my side.

The first thing I did was to check the hanging dollops. And yeah, they are still hanging dollops. No change in formation.

He cocked up his head, feeling disgusted and walked off.


June 03, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 12:28 pm

smoke stress* 

Here's something that vex me ceaselessly.


It consists of two simple words - so why is it so difficult to comprehend? And to abide? And to respect the right of non-smokers to inhale "clean" air? To not add to the death-by-second-hand smoke" statistic?

"Sorry la. I am damn stressed la. Please bear with me."

Ok, let's turn the table around.

And as Ir would say, "Would you bear with me if I am in the habit of hitting your pretty head with a baseball bat everytime I get stressed?"

June 02, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:58 pm