Letters from Kelantan ;)

Working on my old wardrobe today. My dad had it shifted from my kampung. After 4 years remained untouched, the closet was still undeniably in a pretty good condition. And full of surprises too!

So today, with the help from my dear little sister, we had a small discussion of planning to renovate our rooms with the additional wardrobe, and yes, we thought the time had finally come to get rid of our old, unused clothes.

With great determination and pirates-of-the-caribbean-like spirit, we divided our tasks and the operation begun.
There were sneezing and screaming, here and there.
[We were both allergic to dust and I am afraid of roaches]
But there were more founding to my sheer delight.
Which made me grin (and laugh), unnoticed:

1. David Beckham of Manchester's poster.
I was a huge fan of him while he was still in MU. His boyish smile, laid-back personality, his super well-bended free-kicks and well, his hot bod was not an easily erased picture from any girl's wondering mind, eh? ;) [it's a perpetual curse, anyway]

I used to hang his posters (plus the rest of his teammates, I'm not that bias, ok?) on my bedroom's wall. That was when my conscious mind can only accept the fact that MU was the ONLY greatest football club in the world. As soon as some senses [and correct level of hormones ] had knock back into my head, the way I evaluate football was no longer just about those gorgeous faces. I am still MU's die-hard fan, and I will still keep that poster on my closet's wall. I watched Serie A too nowadays.


2. MU's grey hat.
I bought it when I was 16 at mufc KLCC. This hat used to be my companion whenever I went out for jogging or playing tennis. I thought I've lost it somewhere back in college, but well, I did not! You can't imagine how thrilled I was when I found it under a pile of clothes. I wore it all day long, even when I was taking my afternoon's nap and still am, now [fyi, it's already 12:56am ;)]


And last but not least,


3. Letters from Kelantan.
I did have friends from Kelantan. But this sender was a complete stranger to me. Those letters were sent to me back in 2004. I've never replied but if I put myself in his shoes, I would have been devastated for waiting. Let me extract a few of his (long) lines in those letters:

Menemui saudari Siti Munirah, semoga saudari berada dalam keadaan sihat hendaknya.

Tujuan saya menulis surat kepada saudari kerana saya ingin berkenalan dengan saudari.

Apakah azam saudari pada tahun baru (2004)?

Inilah maklumat diri saya:
Nama: xxx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxxxx
Alamat: Lot xxxx, Kg Chekok, Chetok, Pasir Mas, Kelantan

Kg. Chekok terletak di hulu kawasan Pasir Mas berhampiran sempadan Tanah Merah. Pada permulaan sempadan Tanah Merah terdapat sebuah bukit iaitu Bukit Panau.

Diharapkan saudari berbahagia dan ceria.


Should I reply these letters? His handwriting was kinda neat anyway :)
I feel bad for not replying though.
He had to forgive me since we've moved out in a hurry.
Sorry, XXX!


p/s : I forgot harga minyak dah turun! This morning I pumped in MYR5 worth of petrol for my nearly-empty motorcycle's tank. Guess what? Melimpah! Lucky it was me with the pump attendant only. Malunye! :)

Lesbianism in me?

I was not the type of person who usually went ga-ga over guys.
More often than not, my taste for guys faded over the years, according to my friends.
I watched the Ellen deGeneres shows all the time.
I think Kristen Stewart is drop-dead gorgeous.
Most of my belongings are from nike.
I wore clothes from bundle shops and pasar malam too.
I used the same shoes for over 5 years' time.
I think make-ups are for people with low self-confidence level.
I never buy any.
I played tennis.
I enjoyed sweating under the sun.
I love beaches.
I climbed mountains.
I excessively hate shopping.
I hate high heels.
I prefer riding motorcycle than driving a car.
I enjoyed watching football since I was 9.
I even went to stadiums to watch some.
And I never went out on a date.
But that doesn't mean I'm a lesbian.
Though I had some bad experiences being chased by some.
And still ongoing.
But I am not.
Period.



p/s : I have a huge crush over this one REALLY HOT guy!
So please, don't mistaken me for a lesbian.
I DO have feelings for the opposite sex :)

Am I a perfectionist?

How we actually define one?

The greatest fear for a perfectionist is to be flawed and their ultimate goal is perfection.
Simply said.

I just read definitions for perfectionism on Wikipedia.
It scares the hell out of me as I figured out that I, unintentionally, has been behaving as one for as long as I can remember.
[I thought all this while my friends had got me wrong]

Dush.
This is not good.

Normal perfectionists "derive a very real sense of pleasure from the labours of a painstaking effort" while neurotic perfectionists are "unable to feel satisfaction because in their own eyes they never seem to do things [well] enough to warrant that feeling".

Perfectionists are people who strain compulsively and unremittingly toward impossible goals and who measure their own worth entirely in terms of productivity and accomplishment.

I can't be possibly blaming myself for these.
Maybe it was genetically passed down to me by my great ancestors or some kind like that.
[excuse, excuse]

You might think that a perfectionist is a workaholic.
One does not stop working until everything is in place according to one's expectation.

You can be wrong.

A perfectionist is a person who procrastinates a lot too.
[which clearly defines my state of condition now]

'I can't start off my task until I know the right way to do it'
'I can't start mopping if I don't use lavender-scented floor cleaner'
'I can't start rearrange my baking ingredients because I don't have those stack able containers like those in the Chef at Home's show'

I reproach myself after the smallest error, such as a word out of place or a misspelled word (even in my text messages or emails);
I might be so intent on finding the perfect mate that I probably will never settle down;
I am now a devoted procrastinator (yuhuuu!);
and I can be exceptionally sensitive to criticism.
[this explains why I never do a follow-up with my customer]

*I just don't dare to ask, 'How was the cake? Do you like it?'*

Now I know why I can't/won't be a good businessperson.

Back when I was training in the factory, I encountered the same problem too.

Whenever it was the time for packing, I would leave products that were not-so-perfect behind.
Only the perfect ones will go into 'my' boxes.
And mind you, the not-so-perfect ones were actually still can go out of the production lines.
It's just that it won't happen from my side.
I want my boxes of shipment to be flawless.
As if I was the one who will receive them.
And I freak out too whenever I have to work with those who care less about perfection.
Which reminded me of my college days where I have to nag and shout and scream in my kitchen because my group members frequently leave the table dirty and the mis-en-place was everywhere.

It was tiring anyway.
It's not that I don't try to change.
I just can't.

When I was trying to do my bit for my high school batch's reunion, I eventually walked away.
Simply because they can't do it according to my way.
I want to ensure everyone's safety.
I tried to be in everybody else's shoes.
I just want a less troublesome vacation.
I enjoy the sense of taking control over something but that's not how they want it.
I was trying to help, that's all.
I've done my research and I've updated anything possible but they might have taken me for granted, that this whole thing was not as serious as anyone but me should handle it.

Now I don't feel like going anymore.
Things would have been so much better if I can be as normal as others, I think.

A match worth watching?

Malaysians treated them like kings.

Bjorn Borg.
John McEnroe.
Roger Federer.
James Blake.

People were wooing, shouting, screaming their 'kings' names out of their lungs.
Ran after them for precious autographs, quick kisses and admiring glances.

Fans were still be fans.
There's nothing wrong with that.
I've done it over enthusiastically last year.
Watching Federer swoops his racquet right in front of my eyes were just surreal.

But not anymore.
Not this year or in the years to come.
Not unless I step foot in any of the Grand Slams' tennis arenas.

I wonder why Malaysians are so proud of them. Instead of nurturing young Malaysians guns to some tennis monsters, we would prefer to celebrate those famous ones than our own.

Once a year.
And they played a warm-up game, I tell you.
1 set aje?
You got to be kidding me.

We were like puppets, worshiping something that is not worth worshiping.

The umpire was not serious at all.
He can't answer McEnroe's inquiries.
The linesmen were making false calls.
McEnroe 'exploded' a few times.
The ballboys were even way too slow to pick and throw those balls.
Blake was kind enough to give some help.

It's more to humiliation to Malaysia's level of sporting action, rather then being a fan for those great names in the world of tennis.

They earned almost USD3million that night alone, yet, we embarrassed ourselves with some traditional-costume-clad girls. And those players didn't even look at them.

And never in any tennis championship history that a stadium was filled by these kind of entertainment (or exhibition or a fashion parade, I have no idea) as a way to promote one's unique culture.

In Dubai Open, the organiser actually made these players wear their traditional long dress and have a photo shoot session for their tourism-boosting purposes.

So so unlike us.

It's very frustrating.

Sports are no longer cherished as competitive events where the adrenaline rush was so high, the blood may have gone out of our brain.

Instead, it's just an entertainment that we paid handsomely for.
At least for Malaysians.

Which reminded me a similar occasion when Chelsea FC came to Shah Alam for a friendly match last July.
I was there.
The stadium was almost packed.
And most of the people were supporting Chelsea instead of Malaysia.
None of that I care about.
I might as well supported MU if they are here for a match.
It's the support Malaysians show for our local sports/groups/teams.
In any local league match, the attendance of fans that surprisingly high is totally questionable, probably impossible.

We Malaysians expect the best of everything.
Yet, we always fail to deliver on our own.


[I wrote this article last week, but only managed to publish it today. Expect me to post multiple entries in these few days time. I'm still recovering from chikungunya :( ]

Chikunguwhat?

It's Chikungunya..
Commonly mistaken as dengue due to it's similar cynical symptoms but it is not.
Symptoms of Chikungunya:
1. High fever
2. Rashes
3. Chronic joints pain (which will last for > 3months)
4. Concurrent deaths

Wait,
concurrent deaths?

According to an article, this applied to elderly people with low immunity level plus could be fatal for pregnant women too.

(Thank God I am not that old and so not pregnant)

It is contagious but only through mosquitoes bites.

Yup.
Previous victims were my neighbours, more neighbours and my dad.

I've been suspected by my family doctor to carry the virus for these past few days.

Sakit badan, sengal etc.

The moment I thought that I'm doing just fine, the fever is gone, I sweat and perspired; my joints ache again.

I've drank bottles of 100plus for dehydration as there are no specific cure for this disease.
Medicines are pointless at this state.

I am starving but the food taste bitter and my stool has this very weird colour (I didn't mean to sound so gross, but, well, we have to know other symptom too)

I slept and woke up and walked like a very old lady since I could not feel my feet.

Rukuk while praying is another torture.

I talked to my mom and a few moments later I forgot what it was about.
(Short-term memory loss was probably not one of the symptom, I tensed up cause I have several cake orders for the weekend and I barely feel the tip of my fingers)

The incubation period for this fever usually last for 7 days.

I die loh like this.

Thanks and sorry dad for the breakfasts and lunches and dinners.
I really want to eat but I just can't swallow.

Thanks and sorry mom for all the house chores that you have to do despite your overloaded office works.

Tangled up!

Whatever I am trying to accomplish in the future must come along with my parents' blessings so that I am forever under their consent, support and bless..

Or so I thought.

I was in a sweet perfect vacation last few days. I accompanied my mum to a convention in Port Dickson. The gentle breeze of the ocean, the calming effect of the melodious waves, the perfect sunset-watching indulgence; I haven't had my private time i.e. doing nothing, for quite a long time.

As how I thought I would finally had my peace of mind, with a notebook in my hand, a pen in the other, the serene ocean view had helped me out with lots of plans and projections.

Not until I overheard my mum's talking with her other friends..

'I didn't want her to go to KL'
'Baru je ada tempat nak bermanja kat rumah'
'Baru je duduk rumah 2 bulan'
'Mana ada teman dekat rumah dah'


Erk!
I thought what she had wanted was the other way around.

There I go.
Another rigmarole nightmare happened in the naked daylight time.
Put myself back into another tangle of confusions.

I didn't put the blame on my mum.
Any mother would love to have their children around.
Especially when the children had been away from home for so long.

I didn't know what to say.

I stared at the ocean, secretly wished that some solutions might pop up from waves or written somewhere on the sand.

I do wished I can please myself and all at the same time, I can be able to take a very good care over my mum's feelings.

Which is quite impossible in my condition.


Probably going back to KL is not a very good idea after all.


A daughter has to put her mum's needs first, under whatever circumstances she is in.


I'll only exacerbate the whole situation if I stick to my plan.
Without a mum's bless, any human can't achieve greatly in life.


I love you, mak.
I think I'll stay.

Reward of the day~

I sold this cake for the price of MYR 80.
[ I know it's quite cheap, I'm in Kuala Pilah laa:P]
2+kg of ganache coated super moist chocolate cake.
The cake was undeniably easy to make.
Only the baking time was longer than the usual 35-45 minutes of ordinary butter cakes.
This cake is baked in a slow oven for about 1 and a half hour.

The fudge?
Piece of cake.
I mix up dairy cream with chocolate and some butter, warm it up then let it cool down.
The ganache is ready.
Assembling took place.
I arranged some jelly coated strawberries and did the writing.
My cake is done.
[I always like my cake decorations simple]

My reward?
Yup.
That MYR80.

But that's not all.
The sense of personal accomplishment counted in.
The satisfactory feeling.
The smile on the face of my customer,
it's just brighten up my day.

That's my true rewards.

Of course, additional strawberry milkshake made up my day too ^_^
The strawberries were in excess.
I happened to always have stock for vanilla ice-cream
And, well, milk is a must in my fridge.

AAaaahhhh..
YUM!


Thanks Kak Salbi, Ketua Puteri UMNO Kuala Pilah for the order :)


p/s: I still couldn't find my kitty :'(