I will speak in Bahasa Malaysia tonight.

Ke hadapan May yang disayangi,

Apa khabar kawanku? Kami berempat di sini sihat-sihat sahaja. Diharapkan saudari May juga sihat.

Di sini, kami berempat ingin memberitahu May suatu berita penting. Pada Selasa minggu hadapan, iaitu 18 November 2008, kami akan mengadakan lawatan sambil belajar ke Bangsar Village. Tujuan lawatan ini adalah untuk menjamu hidangan coklat yang pelbagai, mengenang kembali zaman kanak-kanak kita, berbual-bual mengenai hal kehidupan masing-masing, dan membeli barang-barang keperluan.

THEOBROMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THEOBROMA. TOLONG KATA YA.

THEOBROMA. COKLAT. MMMM...SEDAP.

THEOBROMA. KASUT. BISKUT. APA LAGI AWAK MAHU???


Tolonglah setuju dengan cadangan untuk mengadakan lawatan ini untuk bergosip dan bergurau dan membeli barang keperluan harian (tolong jangan menafikan ayat ini, saya akan tamparmu). Kami sangat rindu ketawa and gurau sendamu.

Jawapan anda sangat kami hargai.


Yang benar, jauh and merinduimu,
Skizzy, Della, Roxanne, dan Dave.


Tamatlah sudah warkah blog ini yang sangat berwarna-warni. Sekian, salam maklum.

**Please excuse my atrocious attempt of writing in Malay. The last time I wrote such wonderful Malay was when I was in high school, which was like, 4 years ago? And I hardly speak Malay at home unless I'm speaking to my sister-in-law since she speaks to me mostly in Malay**

My words they sing you their song.

Hello you.

Today, you would be 22 years and 2 weeks old.

You would have been, anyway.

There is not a day that I don't think of you. You know what they say, the first cut is the deepest. I always feel you watching me, in a non-stalker kind of way. Making sure I do the right thing. Laughing at my mistakes.

Sometimes, I think if you were still here, you'd say "This is the voice of your conscience speaking, you are not fat" to my face.

And I will half-mindedly say "I believe you".

I don't know if you know this, I have changed a little. You know what change does to me. It makes me afraid and awkward. But I deal with it just alright.

I am sure you must be immensely proud to hear that I do not use the violent approach of throwing things around when I am angry. Yes, be proud. Your little girl is much wiser now to know that violence doesn't cure cancer, solve problems or fix her financial situation.

I like rock songs more than I used to when I was 14. Shocker, I know. Oh well, I suppose a good change would do me some good. Not really into the whole pop-boyband stuff anymore. I'm too old and too cool for that now. Haha.

I know I am not speaking for myself when I say I miss you. We all do. Your wit and caring self is what we miss the most about you. Well, that and the fact you beat the crap out of my Hindi-speaking skills.

I watched the movie "Wit" a couple of weeks ago and I thought about you. Well, my initial thought was "Why in the world did I choose to wear my purple eyeliner today?". I only said that because I was sobbing thinking about what you went through. The pain of it all made me cry. So now I know better than to wear eyeliners to school in case my lecturers decide to show me movies that make me think of you which will make me cry.

My hair is longer now than what you'd remember before. It's way past my shoulders but above the lower back. I am resigned to be known as the 'langsuir queen' because one day I washed my hair and didn't dry it, and my dad thought that I just auditioned for the role of a vampire. Yes, you may laugh at me.

How are things with me? I'm doing good, not that great, but I'll survive. One more year until I graduate and then, what happens? I don't know. I may work, I may not...one thing's for sure, I will continue to study. Not just at a university level, I learn new things everyday. You never truly stop learning.

On a relationship front, I have been single for the last three years. Purely by choice. I'm not sad, I don't feel left out. I have other things to worry about like 'Will my hair be blue by the end of the season because of that bet?'.

I have so much to say but I will take forever just to do that. You know I have a tendency of rambling like an idiot before I finally come to my point because I get nervous and sweaty and all that when I have something important or random to say to you.

It happened again. Haha. Sorry.

I love you, sempiternally (favourite new word!). Nothing can change what you mean to me or the one year of happiness you gave me.

Thank you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I am sorry.
Take care.

I will refrain myself from saying 'goodbye' because it is so trite so I'll just end it by saying 'until later'.

ABYB,
-RH-

Confessions.

I am still on hiatus, just not for now. I am here because I just want to let this out so bad:
I love my mother, so much I am writing a letter I know she will never read.

Dear ma,

Maybe two years from now, I will be flying off to stalk pretty boys or study or as we both are very well-known for being multi-taskers in the family, I might do both. Maybe for a week you will come with me because you want to tell frumpy grumpy fat man Fergie how unbelievably dashing he is to you.

You have never ever judged me for what I do. I could be very frank with you and yet you tell me like how you see it. You are by far, one of the strongest persons I have ever come across or have the privilege of knowing. I now understand how it is to be in your shoes when someone's temper flares. When I was young, I always took his side because I was just too young to understand and comprehend things. Now, the more I see it, the more I felt like beating the young me for most of the times that I was being cruel to you and only being nice to you when I want something. I am sorry I took you for granted then, it was never my intention to hurt you or add on to the hurt you were already feeling.

As the years passed after you retired, we've grown closer and we understood each other better. You would tolerate my undying love for random famous boys yet you will always say I am crazy. There aren't that many mothers I know who will call their kids up at 4 in the morning to say things like "Oh hi, your Chelsea boys are winning 2-0, come down!" or even "Oh hi, Ellen is interviewing David Cook now. Come down!" like what you did this morning. At that point I was thinking, "I wonder if other people's mothers are like her" because most mothers I know either don't know about their children's objects of affection, know but don't care about their children's objects of affection, or pretend and ignore about their children's objects of affection.

But you. You tell me about who's on the TV and make it a point to tell me about what you saw and how hilarious it was. You will watch football matches with me and laugh at the most random things possible, like someone being tackled or being carded by the referee. We have our secret codes and silly glee faces ever. We share too many stories together, in fact we share a lot of things together. Except for a sense of direction, for which mine beats yours into a pulp.

When I first listened to Light On at 4AM today, all I ever thought about was how much the last couple of days were emotional for me. I watched the movie Wit and it made me cry to think about the pain and suffering two people closest to me had to go through when they were battling cancer. I was just 13 and 15 when they passed away. Again, I was too young to understand things. At 13, all I thought of were studies, dressing up, boys, boybands and other silly, insignificant things. Not cancer. Or death.

After a couple of rounds of listening to it and concluding how much I love it albeit sounding a little overdone at the chorus part, you came in and I asked you what you thought of it. You told me you were feeling sleepy and will tell me once you feel more awake. It then struck me that the words to this song are exactly how I feel for you when I leave KL. I know that's only going to happen in two years time, but like you know, I like to think about rather strange and random thoughts about the past, present and future. This had to be one of those thoughts. At the same time I was thinking about this, you said "This song started off so slowly at first...but as I keep on listening to it, I feel it's very touching and I enjoy it".

I then told you "When I leave two years from now, play this song so that it will remind you of me and all the things I've done. The times I have countlessly irritated, annoyed and pissed you off. The times I have cried to you when I had no one else to talk to or when I fell sick because of my blood pressure sinking rock bottom. The jokes and the silly things we would do together, like scribbling your refusal to donate to my 'David Cook album fund' on my whiteboard. The times you would call me so early in the morning to tell me some boy I like is on the telly. The things or food I buy for you from wherever it is I went to. Leave the light on for me when I go, okay?".

All you said was "I will. I definitely will play this song to think of you". I started crying because I finally understand this song. The song has different meanings attached to it. This is how I see the song for me: it's how I feel about leaving people closest to me, especially family members.

And guess what, ma?

It's you who is closest.

You came and laid down with me on my tiny bed after listening to the song a gugillion times (Sorry bout that, I had that on replay) and you knew I was crying and you told me "It's okay". You fell asleep soon after and I continued crying, thinking about our relationship. It's not exactly a pretty one, ma. I feel so horrible for some of the things I have said and done to you, I feel I am not worthy of your love.

I am truly sorry for the times I snapped back at you.
I am truly sorry for the times I ignored a request from you.
I am truly sorry for the times I have been an ass to you (which, of course, occurs most of the times, I guess).

I am truly sorry.

Last week, when it seemed like everyone in the house hated me, you saw the tears in my eyes and all you said was "Chin up, no point in being upset over idiots like them". You never sympathised, you empathised with me. I know how squeamish you get when people hug you, but you gave me a hug that I could never pay back in cash. It felt so good and relieving and I felt like I could just exhale once again.

We will always have our jokes, our tears and fights, and guess what, ma?

I love you sempiternally. I know I don't tell you this as often as I should, but I really do.

You make me an extra pot of coffee when I am pulling an all-nighter to study or complete my assignments.
You wrap all my books and even charge me for it, but I don't mind paying 50 cents per book wrapped, it's my way of giving back for everything you have done for me. It's not much, I know, but it's the least I can do.
You say the most random things because you know how much it will cheer me up on the most awful day possible.

I just want you to know that you are probably the most awesome mother any girl can ever have. Not many mothers I know watch everything I watch on the telly or make an attempt to be interested in the things I like, or even tell me "EH WAKE UP! LAMPARD JUST SCORED! COME DOWN NOW!" at rather weird hours of the day.

I just sayang you too much it hurts to think I'll be leaving you here soon.

Try to leave a light on when I’m gone
Something I rely on to get home
One I can feel at night
A naked light, a fire to keep me warm
Try to leave a light on when I’m gone
Even in the daylight, shine on
And when it’s late at night you can look inside
You won’t feel so alone

Just leave a light on when I'm gone for me, okay? You won't feel that alone if you do that. There's the option of MSN too, but yeah. "What goes up, never comes down", haha! Only you'd understand this along with me, ma. No one else comes close. Nothing else compares.

I love you.

Lots of love, hugs, kisses and magic rainbows,
~R~, your daughter.

I just had to let that out because it is how I feel not only right now, but maybe for a long time.

I'm not going to be back here to post any time soon. I still am trying to figure out how to deal with the good changes in myself that I am facing, as you would've read in my earlier post.

Baby, believe me. It's only a matter of time.

Dear Frank Lampard,

If you want to leave, just do it already.
Don't make promises you can't keep.
For you, I will not weep.
I would if I was still 3.
Don't say "I love my people, I love my club" if you're not sincere,
So if you want to leave for Inter,
to rekindle that love affair with your ex-boss Jose,
I (and so will the rest of the world) will not stand in your way.
You're free to go,
I won't be fooled by your lies anymore.

Goodbye.

Very much not pining for you,
-me-


There. I have said it. Just go and stop dominating the backpages of my newspapers. Just go to Jose and continue with your sordid love affairs.

As seen in today's issue of the NST. Heh, even THEY can smell the love you two share.

Chelsea mean the world to me, so if you want to leave, go ahead. Go and be like Ronaldo, that pansy.

Just go, so that people would stop asking me "Eh your boy's leaving! Are you going to jump ship?".

Because I have half a mind to spray profanities on them.

Besides, I have a new boyfriend to make me happy.


That is my current wallpaper. The one that made someone go "HOLY MOTHER OF CANDLESTICKS, THAT MAN IS SEX ON TWO LEGS!". I swear, all of our conversations have some sexual connotations to it. I blame you, simply because I am innocent.


Random pic.

Whiskey coke and a slice of lemon.

"Woman, you eat cookies, you drool over cookie, now you drink cookie???! That's just wrong on all levels!"


Honestly, I can never have a proper decent conversation with you anymore.

We're tossing pennies, making wishes to make it right

Do I regret saying no?
NO.

It's amazing how much I've changed. I remember when I was a kid, every time my dad would pick a dress and I would absolutely hate it with a burning passion (I don't do pink very well, thank you) and he'd go on and on about how nice I'd look in that dress and everything else. Just to evoke some sense of guilt in me so that I'd give in and get it.

This is the moment where I tell you that I'm falling apart,
and I'm stuck in reverse between the same damn lies.

I know, I give in easily to please people. It's a weakness of mine, I sort of wear it on my sleeve too much, as some of you might have already seen.


It's something I am proud of at times, not most of the times.

I hate to be the one who obliges to requests.

"Do you want this?"
"If you like it, take it"

I don't want something because someone says it looks nice on me.
I don't want something because I am forced into it.

It seems like lately, all I do when I buy something, is to see if I can use it for the future.

Or whether it is something I ought to have at this present moment.

That's exactly how I felt with that necklace.
I didn't want it nor did I need it.

Even if I was not in such a crappy mood, I would have said no as well.

Heck, you wouldn't believe what my dad said after I picked a red handbag which was:
01. multi-functional,
02. nice,
03. affordable,
04. practical, and
05. simple.

He told me "That bag is so cheap and looks so plastic-like. How about this one?".

The bag he showed me was RM300.

Like, hello. I am still in school, I don't own a credit card and I don't really see myself carrying a bag THAT expensive unless I am (a) married or (b) working.

I don't bloody care if it's the Malaysian MegaSales and it's at a slashed price or whatever.
I don't bloody care what people think of me already. I am already in everyone's bad books.
I don't bloody care anymore.


I don't want it.

All I want is to improve my lack of vocab to improve my standing in Facebook's Word Challenge.

Or just let me just listen to MY song and go "Sigh...perfect" at it like a little school girl with a mad crush.


For the people who taught me to scribble lyrics at the footnotes of any notes I take down AND tolerates my random moments of spazzing out when Magic Rainbow comes on the radio.
You two understand me like how a penguin recognises fish.


Currently listening to:
Optimistic to a Fault/Better Never Than Late - David Cook.

Not sure which is the title, apparently it's the latter and if this is on the upcoming album, I will be pleased as punch and vodka. The blog post title comes from a line from the song, by the way.


Hold on, someone wants to say something.


Hi, I am the friendly Scouser, any one of you who has a guy friend who is single and looking...please hook him up with my darling Roxanne.

I cannot take her undying obsession for David Cook and anything associated to him. It kills me slowly.
Oh God, she just spazzed out while listening to Magic Rainbow.

For the sake of my sanity and yours, if you want her to stop talking about him, PLEASE FIND HER SOMEONE TO LOVE AND EVENTUALLY MARRY.

Thank you.



Oh, you bitch. Now you know how I feel when you talk incessantly about Steven Gerrard. Don't listen to her. You know me better.

I'm lost in a crowd.

Dear trusty Vicks Inhaler,

I love you. Where have you gone to?

Please come back. You are very much my fix of crack when my immune system is down.

Very much suffering from constant sniffing and sneezing like a whale,
-TTG-

*****

My arm hurts no thanks to the keloid jab. I whimpered a little when he stabbed jabbed me with that tiny needle -.-'

I'm walking around my house with a bottle of 100PLUS in hand and a strip of KoolFever plastered across my forehead.

And I'm pretty sure I twisted my left knee and strained a couple of muscles along the way while getting out of the car.


Life is beautiful, I tell you.

It's the world I know.

Dear David Cook,

Oh God. How do I even begin?

Thank you for singing those two songs I've been DYING to hear you sing on the show. Especially the U2 song.

I don't care how you were thrown under the bus by everyone. You know in my heart that I love you.

My mother asked me "What do you think of his personal song choice?". I told her, with tears in my eyes, that "It's the perfect song for him. He wanted to do this song last week, but you know what? I am so glad he did it today".

When you sang The World I Know, I lost it completely and broke down in tears, because I wanted to hear you sing that for the last two weeks. I cried like a baby. Yes, I do know that I am 20, no need to remind me of how old I am.

No one, apart from Ryan Star, has that kind of an effect on me.

Thank you for making me fall in love with everything about you. Your personality, your voice, your smirk, your chameleon-eyes, your tattooes, your guitar with the initials on them, your stupid sense of humour, your wit and nerdiness, and yes, your tummy *cringes*.

You made me confront things I have been hiding inside for the last 8 years.
You cheered me up and pushed me to tears, when my blood pressure sank to the floor.
You made me laugh at the lamest joke I have heard in my entire life. Now I can't even watch Pirates of the Carribean without thinking of you and laughing.
You showed me that you ARE definitely versatile-vocally and that you can dance.
You proved that a real man cries and wears his heart on his sleeve.

You changed me.

I love how you said this show is about progression. And frankly speaking, you have progressed A LOT.
You have progressed in looks.
You have progressed in choosing the songs you sing.
You have progressed into this man who touches people in strange ways.

I hate love you for that.


I don't care the outcome of tomorrow's results.

Okay, fine, I lied. You caught me red-handed.

If you don't win, I will be devastated.

But it is okay.

You are sempiternally immaculate in my eyes.

You are MY American Idol.

I love you, David Cook.

Thank you for making me hooked, line and sinker for this season of American Idol for the first time in many years.

Very much in love with you,
-me-


Currently listening to:
The World I Know - Collective Soul.

Hope still lingers on.


It's a good thing I resent make-up, otherwise you would see a mascara-stained face in front of you all due to the tears.

You'll always be my baby.

Hi all, this is not TTG. This is your friendly neighbourhood Scouser.

My dearest best friend will not be updating for a while not only because she is having her exams, she is also unwell.

As most of you may or may not know, she suffers from low blood pressure. She has been having it since she was 16 or 17. Until yesterday afternoon, she has shown somes signs that she has it but she is getting better.

Yesterday changed it. She was not herself. Her forehead was wet with cold sweat, she felt her chest was tight and that she couldn't breathe, she felt dizzy and had headaches, her heart was beating rapidly and irregularly, she had a backache and she even had diarrhoea and her stomach muscles felt tight. It was frightening for me because I've never seen her like this before. I've seen her being dizzy and having headaches and looking weak because of her hypotension, but this was the worst.

I told her to sleep because she was turning into David Cook and I didn't want to see her admitted in the hospital or get sick.
"I do NOT want to see this cookie crumble"

She could still laugh and ask me "If I were to marry someone who has high blood pressure and I have low blood pressure, would this make our children have normal blood pressure?".

Stupid fool, can still joke around when we are worried over your scrawny ass.

She thought it was just panic attacks so she let it be, and went to take a nap after being persuaded by her thoughtful friends, her mate and myself.

She felt worse last night and that's when she decided to check her blood pressure, so she got out the blood pressure monitor from the box and checked herself.

94/68.

LOW.

Her father bought her a bottle of 100PLUS and added salt into her cup to spike her pressure up.

She feels better now. All she needs now is rest and sleep.


She is currently watching David Cook sing Always Be My Baby (she got impatient and had ants in her pants) and she is in tears when she heard that voice and saw him cry. What they said and what she saw makes her feel like she is glad she rooted for him since the auditions.


DAVID COOK. YOU ARE MAKING MY FRIEND TURN INTO MUSH. INDEFINITELY.


I don't blame her for her current obsession, at least he seems like he has his feet rooted to the ground. Plus he can sing, for what it's worth. Who knew he could make a Mariah Carey song sound so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes? I am in tears too as I type this, listening to him. So beautiful.

And is it just me or is that THE vest? And his hair!

My best friend will be back hopefully on Sunday or so, she needs all the rest she can get for now. She is facing the world with a smile while looking like a zombie. If you know her and in case you see her, please tell her to sleep. And feed her with something salty just to raise her blood pressure.


To TTG: Take good care of yourself and I know you will do well in your papers. Don't be too stressed out. I am NOT willing to see another of us in the hospital. I admit, your Cookie is special and amazing. I am a believer. Little David, you better be afraid. Very, very afraid.

Take care, love. You know I love you, my little 'cracked' cookie.


P/S: If you are not getting ANY rest now, by the power of the HOLY DREADLOCKS I will hunt you down =p

LMAO. I have successfully contaminated your little blog with the netspeak! *glee*

I'm writing you this letter and this is what I have to say.

I am lost, confused and clueless. I feel like a zombie now. Physically I'm here, but mentally and emotionally I'm not.

Never have kuay teow or any form of noodles for lunch. They make you drowsy.

Stick to apples. Healthy!

Anyone who is free, please let me know. I will hire you as my secretary. Help me type up my assignments and stuff.

Ya-lah I'm so lazy. Blame my warm blanket and cosy bed for that.

*****

I had so much hope in you. In us.

But you. You played with my emotions, lied and made me cry.

That night, I deduced that all men are the same. You said you were better than the third, but you're just the same. You both were the same. Cheating, lying waste of space on Earth.

The next day, I bounced back with a smile and I'm happy. More than you can imagine. I have more self-worth. And I learn from my mistakes. You're one of my mistakes I'd like to learn from.

So you can go have fun with that new girl, I wish you good luck sincerely.

What am I going to do?

What I do best.

Wait.

*****

QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
my dad saw rvp on the bench and he thought it was cesc
may-yen lee...it's all going backwards! says:
hahaha
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
and i thought i was the only one who thought like that
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
woman i am not liking your display name.
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
i think it's cute. it's true anyway. i ain't lying.
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
bitch.
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
anyways, my dad said he doesn't want to watch arsenal matches anymore.
may-yen lee...it's all going backwards! says:
WHY?
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
he says their play is predictable. so he doesn't want to watch them anymore.
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
what did you say?
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
support chelsea.
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
WTF. WHY NOT LIVERPOOL?!
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
liverpool fans are annoying. plus there are too many of them.
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
B.I.T.C.H.
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
HAHAHA!
may-yen lee...it's all going backwards! says:
good idea what...we need more people to support our club.
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
i told him also, if he doesn't want to support chelsea...he can always support barnsley.
yansy would do a guitarist if she went out with a guy from a band says:
for once you came up with a brilliant suggestion.
QOTD: "dah duduk kawasan batu, patutlah jadi stoner" says:
don't i always?
may-yen lee...it's all going backwards! says:
don't flatter yourself. it won't get you anywhere.

And yes, you're already flat. Just because you're smaller.

*****

Like I said, I have a thing with people and guitars. Haha. I know what you're thinking...shut up.

Just an excuse to post something to cheer AND wake me up.


Off to do work now. Toodles.

This could be it.

This is more proof that old folks should be banned from watching MTV and E! Entertainment.

The mother was supposed to collect her jewelleries today from the shop. I told her to bring me along with her when I didn't have classes, but no...she decided to leave me out of it because I have the most amazing persuasive power on the father when it comes to shiny pretty things. Hmmph.

And at about 1:30 PM today, she sent me this text message.
"My bling bling is ready but some aren't, so I'm taking them all on either Wednesday or Thursday"

*dies*

Bling bling. WTF.

I hereby declare that I shall ban her from watching any show with Ryan Seacrest in it. Or even Britney Spears. MCR and Ryan Star, however, will be allowed simply because they're good influences.

*****

Okay, there's a new housing project in Sentul called The Capers.

I personally think it's an odd choice to name the building The Capers.

Because according to Dictionary.com, the meanings of 'caper' include:

01. to leap or skip about in a sprightly manner; prance; frisk; gambol.
02. a playful leap or skip.
03. a prank or trick; harebrained escapade.
04. a frivolous, carefree episode or activity.
05. a criminal or illegal act, as a burglary or robbery.

See? Would you honestly want to live in a building which means an illegal act or a harebrained escapade? I wouldn't...but then again, it's me-lah. I'm so full of nonsense.

Maybe the people in YTL had a good reason to name it that, I don't know. I don't work there.

See, I was right when I told you we use capers in this sentence. "The Capers of Jonny and Toby". HAHAHAHA!


Excuse me-lah. I have a wonky tummy. And I haven't picked out an outfit for this weekend's roadtrip. The father has already issued a warning: By tomorrow you MUST pick an outfit. Pfft, why am I NOT a boy?

*****

Dear Jonny Wilkinson,

You may not step into a fast food outlet even to use the toilet (hence making me a horrible person).


You may also look like Arjen Robben, who has left a huge dent on my heart for leaving Chelsea, but thank you for staying in Newcastle. You have no idea how happy that makes me.

Very much jumping around like a lunatic,
-me-

P/S: My mother thinks you're cute.

*****

I should ban the mother from watching sports as well.

"Freddie's not wearing his lucky CK undies-lah today"

*dies again*

Grumpy cow.

Dear CPU of mine,

Why can't you just tolerate me for just one more week? Why do you have to be such an annoying thing that hates me to the point I had to uninstall my Windows Live Messenger, which I cannot install again? I have to now resort to Windows Messenger to hold conversations with my friends and family!

Just bear with me for another few days, okay? I promise I won't abuse you much until the parents decide to replace you.

Very much a grumpy fat cow,
-me-

*****

My parents are so random.

On the way back home, we saw a kitty on the road.

"Eh, is the cat dead?"
"No, it's still alive! What's it doing in the middle of the road?"
"Stupid cat, move it!"
"Let's give it a name"
"Let's call it Fernando Torres"
*laughs*
"Too long"
"Nando then"
*starts giving random instructions*
"Nando, get off the road!"
"Nando, sit!"
"You think it's a dog or what?"
"It's my cat, so it's smart"
*gives random instruction*
"Nando, go scratch Mama!"
"If it comes near me, I will kick it"
"Nando, run!"


While watching the repeat of the Arsenal-Villa match.
"Look at all of the Arsenal players, so scrawny"
"Ya! All of them look so tiny compared to the opponents. They're anorexic. Hleb...Flamini...Can't you ask Uncle Wenger to feed them ah?"
"Your Rosicky's anorexic too. So is Theo"
*dies after hearing Tomas is anorexic*
"But Tomas is cute"
-.-"
"The only one who looks fit is Adebayor"
"No, have you seen Nicky Bendtner?"
"No"
*throws horrified look*
"Eh wait, yes"
"He's like 6 feet and he's only 19. He looks older!"
"Yes, he's fit"
*feels a little icky hearing the father saying a guy is fit*
*sees Nicky coming on for Adebayor*
"There, Nicky's coming on"
"At least he looks okay-lah...look at Rooney. He looks as though he's 40!"
*falls off the couch laughing*

Random people I live with.

P/S: To Adrian, my mother thinks you look *coughs* handsome *coughs louder* with that hairdo.

*****

I want to buy Sawdust from The Killers!

To those of you who owe me money, please do the right thing and pay me. I need the money.

Oh, anyone planning to watch D'Arranged Marriage? You better say yes. We're going to eat chee cheong fun next week, buy After Eight mints (yes, I found it in BSC!) and go buy some things! Shoes, books, CDs, dresses and food? Hahaha! Promise ah, you crazy bugger?

*****

Sometimes, I feel so sorry for the parents when it comes to dealing with the family issues. It's like their the martyrs of their own family (I like to exaggerate, sue me!).

God, grant them the strength they need to face the world filled with vultures and thieves.

That is all I ask of you.

*****

I'm glad you care =)

Annoyed and a birthday shout-out.

Dear Timmy Cahill,

I like you, I really do. I get sad when you don't play for Everton.

Of all the teams you had to score against, it had to be MY Chelsea? And a bicycle kick?

Why Timmy, why are you so cruel to me? I am still sick and you made me feel bad.

Don't do it again.

Very much annoyed,
-me-

*****

I know I should be doing my assignment now, but this is important.


Note: I am not that sickly looking in real-life. I look much worse.

Dear Bernice/Be Nice/Ber Nice,

Fine. Keep Xabi. I saw him in my nap and my sleep last night. Muahahahaha!

Anyways, here's wishing a very HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY. May God bless you always in all that you do and may you be blessed with all the good things in life.

Lots of love, hugs and kisses,
-me-

*****

Alright, I'm off to do my work. Toodles!

Don't you want something more you can invest in?

NOTE: Footie rants and Crouchy post below this one.


I love Blake's new single. Super addictive. He sounds like Adam Levine. Hot, hot, hot.

And I love my music while I take down notes during lectures. Though listening to Madonna's Sorry makes me want to suddenly burst into random dance moves. Haha.

And this song reminds me about someone I wish to never hear from again (I'm glad I lost my old e-mail account, I wouldn't have to deal with this person's e-mails and chat messages). My insula cortex is highly activated when I speak of him. Bleh.

I am addicted to this song.

*****

I am telling you for the last time.

Get rid of the yellow away kit of doom.

See...look at how badly they were playing in it!

Can we please stick to the white away kit of holiness? And leave the black kit as the third kit?

Please. I'm half-blind, don't make me fully blind.

*****

Something rather random happened today.

I went to HP Towers to get some curry puffs because the mother asked me to buy some. And I was paying at the counter and the uncle was in a very good mood and decided to speak to me a bit more than usual.

"You have class now?"
"Yeah"
"Tomorrow's a holiday. How long is your holiday? Do you start back on Friday or Monday?"
"Friday"
*my college is very stingy when it comes to holidays...pfft*
"Oh...are you celebrating?"
*smiles*
"No"
*knows where this is heading*
"Oh...then, you are...?"
"I'm Malay"
"Oh...but you look Indian"
*smiles again*
"Sorry ya?"
"No, it's okay. A lot of people say that about me"

I then texted my Scouser about this and the reply made me cry.
"See, I told you. You have hope to marry Cristiano Ronaldo"

**refer to this entry to catch my drift**

Mortified, I told the mate.
"Mate! Just now I went to buy something from the shop and the man thought I was Indian. I told my stupid friend. She said I can marry Ronnie *cries*"

She's as evil as the Scouser.
"Oi, why are you crying? You are lucky to get married to Ronnie. I'll give you my blessings, don't worry"

My insula cortex is activated again, just by talking about him.

Yuck.

*****

Dear Tomas,

Why are you so fragile like glass?

I hope you're fit enough to play on Tuesday morning and at least score ONE goal.

Very much hopeful,
-me-

*****

The father is so hilarious.

*after a long conversation about Arsenal not having that many English players and random political issues (OMG, we talked about politics! That's a first)*
"Rosicky is what?"
"He's not English"
"Oh"
*dies laughing on the inside*

He doesn't care where his Arsenal players come from, as long as they play well (beautiful football, that's what he says), that's all that matters.

*****

Here's wishing the ones celebrating Deepavali:

DEEPAVALI NAAL VALTHUKAL!!!
HAPPY DIWALI!!!

May the festival of lights be a blessed one for everyone!

And here's to the 3Ms: murukkus and mutton curry and money! Fine...maybe not so on the money part...that was the only word that began with an 'M' I could think of.

Heaven ain't close in a place like this.

I have a strong chance of dying of extreme stress one of these days. A slow and less painful death.

Oh well, I've always dreamt of dying peacefully.

My feet hurt. My head's spinning. The monthly visit has come to screw up my judgment and all other things. I lack sleep and patience and tolerance. I have no time to watch the telly or reply messages in Friendster, MySpace or even Facebook. Okay...maybe not Facebook. You can't take my mouse away.

I haven't even go out and celebrate Eid like a normal person. Well, partly anyway...the mother has been ill since the day before Eid, so we couldn't go out anywhere.

The father planned to take us on a roadtrip to Seremban tomorrow, but then other things came up and therefore resulting in the father cancelling the trip. Bummer. Sigh...I'm so disappointed. Even when I broke it down to the father, he sounded really disappointed. I hate feeling guilty over this. I was so eager to finally get out of my own house instead of staying in there like a refugee for ONCE.Imagine making your own father disappointed-lah time and time again? For once you try to be nice and say "Okay, for you I will" one day, and the next day you go "Cannot go. Got project to do. My friend picked that day". WTFness in the highest order.

The next thing I'm going to say to him if ever he expects anything from me is "Don't ask. I live for today, not tomorrow or Sunday or Christmas". Rude, yes...but it's the truth. "I'm a bloody disappointment to everyone, so don't depend on me to say okay all the time and do it for you".

Ah well, there'll be more of these trips in the future. I can't be upset for things like this. But still I'm his little disappointment.

I haven't even bloody studied for my last mid-term paper this Saturday. I'm screwed, right. Tell me about it. And he thinks I'm all systems go. I've disappointed you yet again, father. Forgive me.


Hopefully, listening to The Killers would help ease the pain a bit.

Random note: The new pants I bought nearly fell to my feet just now. It was at my hipbone (above the thigh) just now and it was so uncomfortable to pull it up all the time. When I got home, some INTELLIGENT being yanked it down.

Bugger, I slap you, don't be sorry ah?

*****

Dear England,

Three words:

What.

The.

Fuck.

Very annoyed and in a horrible mood,
-me-


Heh, 2-1 down and that's when you decide to substitute players! Brilliant! Oh and next time, put Lampsy on for God's sake. If at all there's a next time, anyway. I don't bloody care if you think Stevie G or Gareth Barry made significant contribution to the last two games, just put him on. Not putting him on only justifies the boos and contradicts your statement of how talented and great he is for England. Even the father who hates his guts when he plays for Chelsea thought he should've started today! It's not easy to get him to say nice things about Lampsy like that honestly. He could've scored one too had you decided to put him on right from the start.

Oh, and thanks for making Jamie Carragher quit. I would've rather seen him play than Sol Campbell. Honestly.

AND FOR THE LOVE OF SHINY THINGS, PUT CROUCHY ON! Would it hurt you to put him on? He may seem to be quite unstable at times, but please. He has scored 12 strange goals (okay not all 12 are strange) in 21 games, so you could've at least let him play and try to score another strange goal!

I'm all for making Jose Mourinho the England manager. Who's with me?

Hint of happiness and annoyance.

Last night was good, I'm sorry if I sounded grumpy earlier. Things aren't going so well. But yeah last night was good.

Oh yes, JONNY WILKINSON! 4 penalties! Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!

You can see how extremely happy I am they won last night. Narrow win. But yay to England!

Oh and I was hoping to see NZ in the semifinals as well. No more Luke McAlister. =(

Oh well...

*****

Dear Lewis,

What the fuck happened?

I am very annoyed. The one race I decide to give up on, is the race you decide to pull off a stunt like this.

Don't screw up in Brazil. I hate entertaining messages like "Hahahahaha!" especially when I know nothing of what happened.

Very much annoyed,
-me-

*****

It's a three-way drive to the title, honey. I only like two drivers out of the three (well, make that one-and-a-half, because one decided to leave last season to make way for the one I cannot stand). Sorry, babe, you know my feelings. It's going to be tight.

Brazil...Brazil.

*****

Will be away for a few days. Busy week ahead with mid-terms and Eid coming along.

If you miss me, you know where to find me.

Knowing what it comes down to, it just might be enough.

Even the British PM thinks highly of him.

It still hasn't quite sunk in. It's horrible. I did think he would be forced out of his job one day but not this early. I wasn't even ready.

He finally spoke to me properly and the first thing he said to me was:
"So how Chelsea now?"

The back pages of the newpapers carried the same headline. I was sitting in the car, listening to what he thinks of Roman and Jose. I hid the tears behind the shades. Very handy, yes?

Then I'll take you shopping, she told me. I did...but I looked confused. I walked aimlessly. Then, I decided to snap out of it. I went to look at hoodies and shoes. It relieved the sadness a bit.

My doctor says I am fine and that there's nothing wrong with me. I went to MTUC and during the interview, the man's last words were:
"Employers don't care about employees anymore, they care about shareholders"

And to which the father added:
"Employers treat their employees like furniture. When they're done with you they throw you out"

Just those two lines got me stuck in reverse. I can't be like this anymore-lah. I want it to end.
He's not coming back, no matter what happens.
We can only hope for the best.


I will leave you with this open letter I wrote to Jose Mourinho this morning.



Dear Jose Mario dos Santos Mourinho Felix,

Usually I never bother with the full names, but for you, I made an exception.

Initially when you first came to Chelsea, I wasn't pleased with the way Roman Abramovich treated Claudio Ranieri by sacking him at the end of the 2003/2004 season, and it kind of made me not like you much.

But as I saw more games (this is because I had no ASTRO before), I understood why you were called the Special One. You gave Chelsea their first Premiership title after 50 years in 2005. In 2006, you did it again, this time beating our closest rivals, Manchester United at home. I can't tell you how much I cried that night when we've won it. I cried three days in a row...it wasn't exactly a pretty sight, to tell you the truth.

I learnt how passionate you were about Chelsea. You gave the players constructive criticisms only to get the best out of them. You threw your Premiership medals to the fans in the Matthew Harding stand. You dirtied your expensive suit at Nou Camp when you were sliding on the pitch because you were elated at Didier Drogba's equaliser that proved that we never give up even in the dying moments. You intervened in the Carling Cup brawl because you don't believe that violence is the answer. You made me find some part of me to respect Eidur Gudjohnsen again, reminding me of his and other former Chelsea players' contribution to our 66 unbeaten matches at home record. You told the fans to keep our chins up and be proud of the players when we lost the title to Manchester United. That day we drew to Arsenal at the Emirates Stadium.

The last bit made me cry, because on that day I never cried, in fact I smiled and clapped for the players despite the fact I am a thousand miles away from London.

That was how much you made me a Chelsea fan.

When we won the FA Cup, the first person Didier Drogba went to search for was you. You made him stay at the club and it was the faith you had in him that made him stay and score 33 goals last season. An incredible feat.

You made John Terry captain...you decided on this because you thought it was important to have a captain who is English instead of a foreigner...which is why you made Frank Lampard the vice-captain. Look at how well the England internationals at Chelsea are playing. You made them.

When my mother broke the news to me at 9AM Malaysian time (2AM over there in the UK), I thought it was just a ploy to get me out of bed and told her to stop pulling my leg. She said she wasn't kidding. Immediately I woke up, scrambled to my PC and texted my friends stating how undeniably in denial I was. When it was confirmed, I cried so many times.

How could they do this to you? 6 trophies in 3 seasons! What on Earth were they thinking? To let you go was a mistake. They are slowly breaking my Chelsea family apart and it makes me sad to know that Steve Clarke and Frank Lampard have yet to sign a new contract, which could lead to more of my Chelsea darlings leaving.

I look at the smallest things and it reminds me of what you meant to the players, the fans and more importantly, to me. You made me believe in the never-say-die attitude and the fighting spirit. Everytime I am sad, I read my Chelsea autobiography book and smile. I watch the 2005/2006 Season Review DVD that I got as a birthday gift last year and smile. You make me smile.

I don't care if the fans booed you or the players. I don't care if you moan a lot. I don't care if Roman thinks you've not done enough.

I am still trying to grasp the fact you are no longer managing Chelsea. I can't accept it. It's too sudden...

You promised me and the other fans you'd stay until 2010. Great, I thought. I'd get to see him there when I'm doing my Masters in the UK after July 2009.

But you left. You left before I could even say 'hello' to you.

"You talked about cracked eggs and the next day he talks about cracked eggs. Is he secretly reading your blog?!"
I got that message on Monday night. I was crying when I saw it again last night. It goes to show how much I will miss you and your wit.

My tears are streaming down my cheeks now. I don't know when I will come to terms with this news. I can't even bring myself to read the papers or visit the Chelsea site. It's too painful. I can tell you that the overused word of the day was 'devastated'.

It is too much for me. I am not done. I still have much to say, but I can't because it makes me cry to think about the things I want to say to you.

I can be sure that whoever is poised to fill that spot of yours won't have it easy for him as he has a lot of work to do to emulate you and your feats. I doubt your shoes can be filled so quickly. Not even Fergie can do what you can do.

You made an impact on everyone, including me.

I wish you all the best in whatever you do next. I hope you are with Chelsea, in mind and spirit.

Remember, you're THE SPECIAL ONE.

You know what? Special doesn't even cut it. You're more than just special. And you know that very well too.

Farewell, my older version of Julian McMahon. The man who taught me what it's like to be passionate about things.

Thank you for the memories. It's been three wonderful seasons.

Yours truly,
-me-
A true blue.

*****

I'm done. But don't expect me to be all happy when I see you. Unless you have a sundae or some cookies to tempt me with.

My once happy Chelsea family is slowly breaking apart.


I'm not liking this.


Life goes on.


Song of the moment: How Do I - Lee Ryan.
So fitting.

Everybody is somebody's fool.

Dear Real Madrid,

I don't know how many times I've written letters like this to you. And honestly, I'm not pleased. AT ALL.

If you want to sign Michael Ballack, by all means, go ahead. In exchange, give us Arjen Robben back. I want him back. All the pretty Dutch boys have run away from Chelsea.

You can keep Michael Ballack for as long as you want, just give us Arjen back.

Very much grumpy,
-me-

*****

Dear Lewis Hamilton,

No matter what happens, make sure you kick Fernando's ass. Don't let his mind games and petty behaviour get to you. You're better than that.

And while you're at it, can you tell Ron Dennis to put on some weight? He looks too thin lately. I bet all the tension from the spy scandal has gotten to him, but I hope he'll be okay.

Very much hopeful,
-me-

*****

I was watching the Serbia-Portugal match and saw Paulo Ferreira.

"You know the other day when I went to register my subjects I told you I saw a Paulo Ferreira look-alike but he's underaged?"
"Yeah, what about him?"
"The other day I saw him, he was hugging another girl"
"Oh...how sad!"

Oh well. Life's like that.

*****

One of these day if I fall down and die, and if you look deep down inside, and find yourself asking 'Did I cause her death?'...

The answer's simple. It's a big YES.

But no worries, I'm strong enough to take you on.