New LIFT

Alas, LIFT sports a newer, fresher look. LIFT has been Penang-fide, obviously enough. It does feel a little like home everytime I blog now.


And I finally got my plant.

The Adventure

I wanted to get a plant for both the office and my house. But instead of a brisk trip to the local shop, I got an adventure instead. I was to go to Ikea, but somehow by the time I parked, I noticed it wasn't Ikea. In fact, it was far from it. It was TESCO. Nevermind. They sell potted plants here too.

I set aside a RM20 budget. More than enough, right?

Again, I surprised myself. Instead of sorting out among the greens, I find myself lost deep within the isles and loitering in the organic produce section with a basketful of, well, groceries.

I even found those pimpin' hanging dice thingy. And it smells like lavender. For RM6.90. Buy. 2.

At the counter my bill was just short of RM100 -- which already exceeds my original plant-buying budget -- and made my way to the plant section, which is actually outside the TESCO building. Out in the open. So lugging 2 big plastic bags full of stuff, I was just about to reach when the heavens started pouring buckets after buckets of unrelenting rain coupled with deafening thunder and occasionally being blinded by lightning.

I am wet. I am running. While lugging the big plastic bags across to the other end of the parking lot. In the rain.

To make matters worst. I forgot to bring up my parking ticket. So no free parking and I have to run back in to TESCO and pay for my parking and run back to the car.

And I still haven't got my damn plant!

Shoes and Ball Gazing

“Wow, you’re really into it now huh?” A-tron tells me right after I told him I was hunting for a new pair of shoes at Starbucks in One Utama.

A bit surprised, “Dude,” I replied, placing my Mild Seven Lights on the table, “I’ve been into it since I was like 10,” referring to football, “This is probably my 20th pair of football boots and my 3rd futsal boots,”

Earlier, it was just me, the jelly and the mole. A-tron and Neh was already in One-U earlier. Apparently to pickup some Jusco vouchers for Shell, “Cha, I have to sing for Shell in Genting, cha!” I am guessing he isn’t looking forward to that much.

We made our way to Nike after A-tron was done visiting the gay shop. Well, it wasn’t actually a gay shop. It’s just really queer. Those souvenir/gift type shops with copious amount of cute and cuddly toys and stuff. I stood outside after helping him justify which ash tray he should buy and pointed at my balls, in which A-tron couldn’t help but glance at it. I gave him that ‘ball-gazer’ look and proceeded to walk inside and give him a swift punch.

Ball gazing is this little weird thing A-tron came up with. In order to punch that person, you have to trick that person to either stare or glance at your crotch. I don’t really get it but I felt he deserved one after he made us go to that shop.

We left Adidas after I realized the boots I was interested in was ultimately too plain and Nike was disappointing; they – as usual – did not have my size. What’s with Malaysians and small feet? So we headed down to Studio R, where they have it as well. The new Total 90 looks stunning. The Jelly also found himself some decent footwear. He calls me over to check out his discovery, “OMG,” yes I went all woman-y over it, “This shoe is amazing!” as I was holding it, I flipped over to check out the price, “RM149?! That’s bloody cheap!” Heck, I’d buy one of those. But I felt bad, because last time, I beat him to a pair that he wanted which I thought looked cool too. Sadly that shoe was stolen about 6-months later, “Perhaps it’s karma,” I tell the jelly, “You can have this one!” I don’t think I’d fancy buying 2 pairs of shoes.

In the end, Studio R had my size. And I abso-fucking-lutely love my new pair of futsal boots! I think I came a little as I wore it the very first time. Aah..

One. Last. Attempt.

So my iBook went blind few days back. And since about 2 years ago when this happened, I’ve completed my transformation into a full-blown Mac user. Incidentally, I’ve also been reduced to only 1 computer. But hey, Macs are reliable.

2 years on, the iBook – for the very first time – finally had a problem. Sadly, it’s quite monumental. One of the reasons why iBook was discontinued and replaced by MacBooks was because of their history with faulty logic boards. This board controls the flow of power in your laptop. I guess the power flow for the display has been dislodged. The real problem seems to be the video chip; the chip itself is placed onto the logic-board on a so-called Ball Grid Array. If you’re wondering, I’ve been researching. A lot.

They had a logic board replacement program for iBooks. Unfortunately, mine falls JUST outside the covered range (bollocks!) and I would either need to fork out about RM2,000 (might as well buy a new laptop, right?) to replace it or I could fix it DIY style ala do-or-nothing approach. And since I don’t really need to backup anything (worst comes to worst just extract the pathetic 30GB HD and get a case to salvage any files I might need), might as well give it a go right? I might learn a few new tricks as well.

Maybe it’s worth to try this shop out first. Click here, they specialized in all Apple.

Who knows?
But then again, I’ve almost come to terms with the passing of my beloved 5-year old iBook. God speed!

Blinded

It’s been 5-years. 5 long, wonderful and stress-free years with her since I picked her up from Gurney. We’ve been through some very rough and very good times together. She always knew how to make me smile and keep me going. She’s there for me when no one is. She listens, she sings, she teaches and she entertains. She never nags when I make a mistake or slip up. She always understands that I am only human. She was perfect. When we’re together, it’s as though nothing would ever come between us. We are one. I take her everywhere with me, through my internship, my final year in college. She even helped me sailed thru the first few years in advertising.

Last night, our romance came to an abrupt end. She could no longer see me, hear me. She huffs and puffs with no avail. I can see her, but she can’t see me.




Oh why oh why. I am gonna miss my iBook.
I hope the Mac-docs can sort her out.

Wish me luck.

Multi-Timing

Vig called yesterday. He wants to know what am I up to in the evening. I told him, “I am just about to pack up and head home,”

“Oh, really ah, cha?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” I enquire.

“If you would be so kind,” he readies himself to ask the favour, “I was hoping you could send me to pick up my big bike at 6.30pm.”

It was already 6pm, so I thought what the heck, “Yeah, sure neh. Just gimme a call once you reach home,” and we hung up.

Then it struck me and that prompted me to text his housemate and ex-partner in crime:

“When on Indian timing, usually it’s 10-minutes, 20-minutes or an hour later from the proposed time?”

He replies soon after:

“No less than an hour.”

He was spot on. Vig arrived exactly an hour later. On the dot at 7.30pm. Kenneth asked why? I told him so and he proceeded to give me the low down on timing based on racial background:

“Told ya. Never fails. Ah Neh: 1-hour, Malay: 30-minutes, Chinese: on-time or a fraction too early, mixed race: few minutes early or late and mamak: always on the way.”

Man, I love living in a multi-racial country.

Flick/Toss And Wish!

I am not too sure who came up with this, but hey, it’s sounds eccentrically fun and if you get it right; who knows, your wish might just come true. Or so he says.

His body was half way out of the car, which was probably cruising at about 50 to 70 km/h at least as they approach the mid-span of the bridge, “I WISH FOR A GIRLFRIEND WHO WOULD MAKE ME COFFEE EVERY MORNING!” he yells out and toss a coin.

According to him, you need to make a wish (you may or may not shout it out, its up to you) and with a coin in hand (this is also subjective, but we like to think the higher the value the better) and try to toss/flick it in-between any of the cables from the 2 arches.

And your wish shall come true.

That was a while ago before they got along, “So did it came true?” I ask with a coin in my hand. He turns his head over, grinning from ear-to-ear. Immediately I knew the answer, “Dammit, drive slower,” with my hair completely out of shape due to the wind I stuck out my hand and took aim, “Come on, come on, come on,” and flicked. It went straight up and to the other direction, “CRAP!” I yelled because I obviously can’t flick a coin for shit.

On the same night, after dropping off Kenneth, we noticed this cute somewhat full grown dog standing in front of some house along Lembah Permai, “Looks like he’s trying to get back into the house,” I joked to JM.

“Kesian the fella la, it’s raining!” JM says.

On the next day, we met up with Kenneth at Arati’s along with Vig. Joining me, JM, Roby and Gan, “Dude, you look like shit!” statement directed at Kenneth.

As he adjusted his shades, “You had no idea what happened yesterday night after you guys left!” took a sip of Carlsberg, “I saw this mongrel knocking, clawing and whining outside the gate,” he tells us. He thought it was some stray dog desperate for shelter and he couldn’t care any less, “Then after awhile, it just sat there as if giving up,” filled to the brim with pity, he decided to brace the rain and let that mongrel in, “Kesian lah!”

(Shit, this is the same dog we saw last night!)

But little did he know after cleaning her up, she’s a almost-full-grown-shining golden retriever! Albeit a little sick and skinny, “She’s been left out there for at least a few days!” he tells us as he conducted his CSI, “There are scratch marks on her nose which indicates she’s been shoving her face inside garbage bins for food,”

“Maybe she was in a fight?” says JM.

“If it was a fight, she would have bruises, scratch marks all over her!”

They aptly named her, Friday. Because she was rescued on the worst day possible – on a dark, rainy Friday the 13th. She has been adopted by one of aunty Sue’s friend and she should be on her way to recovery after the trip to the vet.

After the wedding lunch, as we were making our way back to KL, we found ourselves approaching the mid-span again. This time, he wasn’t with us. But Vig is, “Are you guys ready?” as I grab myself a coin.

“What are you gonna wish for?” Neh asked.

We had just bought 4D earlier before we left. We bought 1389. 13 for Friday the 13th, 8 for luck and 9 for dog. This time, I am tossing the coin, “I WISH I STRIKE LOTTERY!!!!!”

This time, the range was better, but still came short. About a meter short from even reaching the base of cables. It’s a hell lot harder than it seems.

Kicked

After the 3rd snooze this morning, I woke up. Rather groggily, I stoop up. Or least tried to do so. Made my way to the door. Crashed onto my cupboard door instead. Door in front, cupboard door on the far right. That’s how far I missed the target.

It’s been ages since I last played a full game of football. In fact, Wednesday’s session was the first for 2009.

After 2 games back-to-back, my team left the pitch to make way for the next team. I was out of my breath, out of my mind and in the brink of passing out, “Dude, your face is damn pale wei,” says the Jelly at the stands.

I haven’t even realized, but it wasn’t surprising because I felt pale anyway.

Note to self: Need to get fit. Though I did recover shortly afterwards and went on and scored 3 goals.

I'm Not Listed As 'Single'

Facebook is weird.

Just like Friendster, when I first heard of Facebook, I was morosely hesitant to register, “Another social network site?” I ask, “Why can’t we all just stick with Friendster?” I wonder.

It didn’t take long to find out why people were migrating over. Apart from the cool new features like the introduction of apps (web applications) and photo tagging, Friendster was already plunging down a slope to down town China. Simply said, “It’s damn jing jang lah,” that’s how a friend of mine used to explain all things tacky.

The minute I checked my testimonials (wah, old skool), I had supposedly made “new” friends. Girls to be exact, those peculiarly cute, zombie pale, big eyed, cartoony Japanese looking local girls that speaks English that sounds more like Mandarin. My testimonial column is no longer filled with actual testimonials written by real friends, but filled with false hopes, tacky graphics like “I miss you,” or “Happy Birthday” on January even though my birthday is in August. Bloody hell, I don’t even know who you are and those annoying cute little kittens with those exaggeratedly cute messages and overly tacky sparkles could make you cough out fur balls and see stars before you jump off your balcony.

So, I registered for Facebook.

That was years ago. Since the end of last year, I’ve gotten used to it. It’s much easier to track down photos taken by a friend at some party, there’s a lot to do there (which spells danger for bosses) and so on. Simply said, anyone can find out about your whole life and how you look like when you’re sad, happy, angry, drunk or where you work, for how long just by clicking onto your page. I’ve heard stories of people losing their jobs because they were dumb enough to add their bosses into their Friend’s list. Some even got divorced.

Annoyed by that idea that people could access such information, I decided to slowly pull back my information. One by one off my page. Just for kicks. For some reason – maybe its due to my ‘caveman hiding in his cave’ mode – I started with my relationship status. It’s been pathetically stuck on ‘Single’ since the day I registered. Assuming it’ll be perpetual for a while more, so I removed it. I did not change anything. I just refrain to put it out on display. And hopefully, this would fly under everyone’s radar.

“Facebook is evil,” Dasha once wrote that on her status.

Rightfully justified. It didn’t fly underneath any radar. It was all over the place. I got bombarded with endless torrent of questions by almost everyone I know – either on MSN or my Wall on Facebook – asking, “Who’s this girl?”

Heh, this is fun. Best part is, I’ve not answered anyone. In fact, I skipped around the question. Usually choosing to answer the second part of the question that is completely unrelated to the topic at hand.

Here’s to adding a splash of mystery to my character!

Shit, hang on, I have a blog.




CRAP.

Nonchalant Weekend

Last weekend I did abso-fucking-lutely nothing and I am quite (very, actually) glad I took it. Since the start of 2009, the year has been nothing but one big massive party with not a moment to put your feet up.

I’ve been telling myself since the very first week of 2009 ended that I needed a decent chilled out weekend to recuperate and recollect. But it was having none of it. Parties were still going on at full throttle, well at least the parties are though the same can’t be said for the attendees (well, most of them). Simply because of the nonchalant half hearted and unenthusiastic chanting, “Y…a…y…, …p…a…r…t…y…!”

So yeah, last weekend’s rest was much needed. What better way is there to celebrate my first anniversary since moving down here by myself and a huge bloody…well, yeah. You know what I mean.

Now my shoulders ache because on Sunday, I thought, “OK, enough of doing nothing all day,” and headed to the pool for a few laps after lunch. I got a bit carried away with the laps. Planned to go for a meager and modest 5 (because I have shitty stamina), which ended up at 15 laps. Now I’m just trying to recollect how did I psyched myself into doing this ridiculous deed. Oh wait, I remember now. Because Caring could pull off a 20 lap easy, so I guess I didn’t want to be out shun by a girl.

Oh well...