ILMARI

While scanning through my hard disk, I stumbled upon my old stash of Japanese mtv videos. At one point during my life, I was buying Japanese cds even though I was clueless about all things Japanese.

My encounters with things Japanese are solely limited to their technologies. For me, anything that was manufactured in Japan was either kawaii or technologically superior to those that came out of China. Even to this day, if you ask me to choose between something made in China and that of Japan, I would still choose Japan. Not only they look ergonomically pleasing to my eyes, but they exude a class by itself.

I discovered Ilmari through my sister. My sis and I have an affinity for things which look cute. Haha. She came back one day with videos of Japanese hip hop rap groups like Rip Slyme, Steady & Co, Kick the Can Crew, Zeebra and few others. Initially, I listened to them without looking at the music videos. I liked their songs because they are very upbeat and funky sounding. But after looking at their music videos, I got hooked. Their music videos were cute to boot without the need for any scantily clad women. And there was Ilmari!!! Hahaha.

Ilmari – cute as a button. Hybrid. Half Japanese and Caucasian. Tall, lanky, geeky looking and a tad pasty looking, just the kind that I’m fond of. *sigh*. If, ever a point in time I consider adopting a baby, I would find for a boy of a similar combination. At least I know for sure the baby is going to grow up cute. Hahahhaa… ya, ya… shallow me. I’m not narrowing hybrids to just half Japanese and Caucasians but to almost everyone who is of mix parentage. Many might not agree to my taste in hybrids but hey, I can’t help it. I’m one of them. My extended family look like an advert for Benetton or something.

On my maternal side, I’ve cousins that’s half Pakistani, half Chinese. Half German, half Pakistani. Half Malay, half Pakistani. Half Chinese, quarter Siamese, quarter Javanese. Half Siamese, half Pakistani. The list goes on and on. The same goes for my paternal side. I have a cousin who looks totally Chinese and her sister looks like a fair skin Indian because she is a tad hairy. My sister for instance has been mistaken for a dark skinned Japanese, Nepalese and Chinese Indian. My brother and I are mistaken to be Chinese most of the time. When we were younger, people would often ask my dad or grandfather whether we were really theirs.

Just today, when I went to buy Malay newspaper for my aunt, the cashier aunty retorted, “Baba ah?” I just nodded. I have long given up trying to explain my family background because it would only illicit looks of disbelieve. Even now, when I go shopping with my paternal grandmother, people would ask her who I am. Sometimes I’m tempted to just reply that I’m her Hubei maid or something. Upon hearing her reply, they would go “Oh, I see, she looks so different.”

Whatever it may be, each year, during whatever festivities there are, my siblings would celebrate in a mix and mash of ethnic costumes. My brother, who is fond of Hindi movies would sometimes don a kurta with a songkok. My sister has donned a peranakan kebaya with whatever assortment of things that we have at home. While we might look like fashion disasters and not exactly Ricky Martin or Eva Langoria drop dead gorgeous, at least our looks cannot be cloned.

Hehe, though I am tempted to post up a picture of my brother in his ‘lampin’ days, I know it won’t be fair to him. Maybe perhaps one day, when I have the time to scan in all our old photos, I’ll put up his picture with Nestum in hand. We used to have lots of pictures during our growing up years, thanks to my dad who was into photography during his hey days. Now, it’s us kids dabbling with it.

Oh well, enough of reminiscing.

Movies for the week

Watched :=

Kinky Boots & Over The Hedge

Both are funny and hilarious. Just the way I like it to unwind.

Malaysia Boleh!

The Internet not only brought a whole new dimension to people all over the world but whole slew of entertainment for people with time constraints like me.

A few days ago, a kid brought my attention to some home made videos on YouTube. Being a fan of Malaysian adverts, I decided to trawl and look for some of the Petronas adverts that I’ve so loved. Lo and behold! A whole plethora of old Petronas adverts were unearthed. I would like to thank all those who had painstakingly uploaded those videos. It really made my day.

The reason why I like those Petronas videos so much is because they can be funny and hilarious and yet strike a sentimental chord in each and everyone of us. They make me feel so poignant and yearning for those days where one can run wild and carefree without a nary of worry about bills, jobs and etc.

I also found out that those adverts were mostly directed by Yasmin Ahmad, one of Malaysia’s prolific director. Though her movies were panned by the critics there, they have made quite a headway in other parts of the world.

Anyway, I admire most of Malaysians I know. I got to know quite a number of them through Internet. Those were the days, where unix was the primary source of irc. Through irc, I have made friends who have enriched my life in many ways. Through this medium too, I have managed to backpack halfway across the world with them.

leen – intelligent and bubbly, never fails to make my day. She has the voice of an angel and can do a mean Delores O’Riordan.

xette – the most hospitable host in uk. I’ll never forget waking up at four in the morning to catch the morning sun at her rooftop.

cine - the silent, resolute one who drove all the way from London up to Sunderland. Really appreciate what you did.

There are many more to mention… another time perhaps.

Oh, another one… the one that I can never forget… jeng jeng jeng… imperial college…. Enough said.. hahahahah

Anarex – Mi Amore!

My right leg is throbbing in pain as I’m writing this. I’ve been suffering intermittently with this pain for the last few years. It started after I had a bad fall from my bed. (yes, clumsy old me). My foot sort of folded up. X-rays just showed some hairline fractures that all.

But now the pain is worse than ever. I can’t even sit properly. I can’t lay down on bed nor sleep peacefully. Each turn will be greeted with an immense stab of pain that shoots up from the waist all the way down to the ankle, numbing the whole leg in process. I nearly fell flat on my face twice today because my leg just numbed itself into bags of lead.

All sorts of things start to pop in this miniscule head of mine. Is it lupus, gout, arthritis, muscle spasms, gangrene, etc? I fear what it may be. I had gone for Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), western medicine, Malay traditional medicine and whatever can offer me relief from this pain. But the pain keeps coming back.

Yesterday, my GP suggested an x-ray. He suspected that I could perhaps have prolapsed disc due to my horrendous cough last week. He said it could be that the disc is hitting on the nerves. It doesn’t help either that I’m always carrying a heavy load of about 5-10kg on my backpack everyday (no thanks to my work & the gargantuan notebook courtesy of the company). I told him the x-ray has to be postponed to a later date. I can’t get days off. My boss is out for blood and mcs is one way of those things that she uses to hinder promotions, bonuses, etc. She said… it’s by grace of the company, not our entitlement. Can you beat that? Oh well, enough of her.

Now, if it turns out that it is indeed a prolapsed disc, what can be done? Physiotheraphy? Aquatheraphy? Massage? Acupuncture? What? What? What? Honestly, I don’t want to know. Anarex is my new best friend now. LOL!

of meanies & minxes mien of supreme self satisfaction

Sometimes I wonder how some people can get away being mean for the longest duration of their lives.

Point in case, is this particular person. She gets into a catty mood at the slightest nudge, in abject lust for power, prone to nepotism and sycophants, fond of threatening others and has total disregard for other people’s feelings. Pray tell, what’s the point of being decked out in the latest couture if one is so mean and embittered and relish in the miseries of others? Yet, she gets away with it all.

I try hard to understand why she functions the way she does, but it always ends up at a brick wall. I’m very sure I’m not the only one with that opinion. Sometimes, I just wish I have the black magic powers of the coven and just zap her away into oblivion. Enough said.

Aaaaarrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!

:(

p.s. – yes I know meanie is not a legit English word

Fractured Barbies

Another slow Saturday. I’m beginning to think that life is nothing but full of banal routines till the day we kick the bucket. Ok… maybe for some it’s darn exciting. After all, today is THE polling day for some.

Oh well, politics don’t interest me that much. Especially since someone said to me, “Remember, we do not bite the hands that feed us”. Suffice to say, that ingrained a particular imagine that completely engulfs whatever political leanings that I might have.

So there I was, sitting down at Coffee Bean reading ‘UNCUT’ when a young gazelle’s laughter attracted my attention. Now, I usually pay scant interest to my surroundings when am in public but this time it was different. It wasn’t because it sounded sexy, but because it sounded like a cacophony of forced sniggers interlaced with high pitched snorts. As my eyes started to focus, I realised that the sound was coming from a ‘Barbie’ sitting diagonally across my table.

Now, this ‘Barbie’ was a young pretty thing. Slim, lithe and sexy to boot. But something is just not right. When she opened that orifice of hers, only then it surfaced. She was local. As local as can be. However, each word that came out of her mouth was wrongly enunciated. It sounded so wrong. What is wrong with speaking simple proper English with local enunciation? Hmmm… yes, some of you might say, “She could be an ABC, thus that accent?” But, I’m very sure many of us are able to differentiate between an ABC and a wannabe. Oh well, she was most probably trying to impress the real ABC guy that was with her. But still…

Being in town on a Saturday night is really interesting. There is a plethora of people milling around doing just about everything and nothing.

Another thing I’ve observed, is this group of women who are always sitting at the bar at ‘Crossroads@Marriot’. Initially, I thought, most probably one of them, demimondes. But, if you go to town as often as I do, one would notice that this group of women (3 of them) are always dressed to kill with nowhere to go and chatting up with different groups of middle age Caucasian men. Slinky dresses, stilettos, long silky tresses and doe eyed makeup. The epitome of the submissive, subservient Asian females. When the clock strikes 2100h or so, these women will vanish; along with those men.

What greatly interests me is that, isn’t the management of that establishment doing something about it? From my point of view, I see them as canvassing for clients there. But then again I could be wrong. But, if they are indeed soliciting albeit subtly, isn’t it a crime? Or is it technically legal because prostitution is legal?

There are just so many grey areas to everything nowadays.

*sigh*


- ABC = American born Chinese

heavenly massage

Once, I went for a traditional massage. The best massage I have ever had in my whole entire existance. I've been to few places but that day was a whole different experience altogether.

That day, I woke up all sore but once I had my shower, I was all rosy and cheery. In fact, the tension headache which I had been nursing for the past few days was gone too. I didn't know my veins were alive till that day.

All these times, I was plagued with leg cramps and such. Often, I would wake up in the morning to the drumming pain of leaded legs. But that day was different. My whole body feels rejuvenated. This was so unlike the previous massages that I had.

Prior to this, I went for a leg massage at this so called ex-acquaintace place. She had this Batam woman coming to her house every month or so to give massage. With her recommendations, a few of us decided to give it a try.

My experience was nothing short of a painful one. I thought the pain would subside after a few days but unfortunately it stayed on. It sort of lingered in the background till that heavenly massage. Not only that, the Batam woman did something called the "kerek". Apparently, it was to get rid of the excess air in the body. That was something else. I ended up with marks that resembled whiplashs all over my body. No thanks to the coin that she used to scrape all over my skin with overzealous zest. (felt so masochistic at that point in time... lol)

Not only that, she was promoting some mumbo jumbo of love potion to my other friends. I doubt they bought it though. It seemed like a dodgy offer. A love potion which can aid you to get any guy. Any guy at all. But of course there was a price. I am sure there is a price.

anyway... i'll get back to that on my next entry

virgin entry

woweeeeeeee... first virgin post! lol

ok... let's see... let it be known that this is my first baby step into the blogging world. so if it sound pedantic or whiney, please excuse me.

Hmmmm... what shall I write? My first foray in blogging and I'm already stumped.

Ok.. here goes nothing... When people hit 30, it would usually mean that they would have reached a certain maturity level. However, I realised that while it may hold true for some people, it may not be for most. Most of the people that I know are within the range of late 20s and 30s. The most interesting thing that I have noted is how the women and "metromen" in their 30s are much more 'bitchier' than normal men.

As they absailed up higher on the academic or corporate ladder, they seem to be more fixated with fault finding their peers. They expect others to understand their pms, mood swings and their thoughts but they would hardly do that to their peers. When they are at fault, they expect you to forgive them. They expect you to understand. But have they ever really been that forgiving themselves?

While the women of "Sex and The City" tend to be supportive of each other, the ones I know have a greater tendency to malign their friends. Be it about some petty things such as man boobs, food, diet, cosmetics, the way someone talks, men other men dated, men other women dated and the list goes on. There's bound to be something or someone that they will fault find with. (I wouldn't be suprised if this blog of mine received comments such as improper use of punctuations and bad grammar).

It has become sort of a ritual that whenever a group of women or "metromen" meet, there's bound to be mudslinging on either one of their "friends" or some hapless fashionista by the road kerb. Is it them or is my usually high tolerance level on the decline? I think it's both.

As I get older, I realise that I am less tolerant of other's whims and fancies. And I thought by keeping quiet it would save me a lot of hassle of disagreements and such. But that itself is a double edge sword. I admit it was my fault. I ambled along life being an amiable person most of the time. I hardly raise a ruckus and usually numb myself whenever there is an argument. The people I know takes it for granted that I would tolerate their behaviours and not retaliate. However on the occasions when I do open up my mouth to speak up, I ended up being labelled "unreasonable, petty and bitchy". Just because all these while I just kept quiet.

Oh well... Life goes on...