The part during dinner that I usually cringe away from.

During dinner today, my mother and sisters were having conversations about our relatives. I was so tired that I didn't hold back any snappy remarks after each story.

About a close family friend who has a business in KL and how the father seems to only be favouring the son and telling the other children that they are useless. They were reasoning how it was hurtful to one of the sisters who are single. I said, "Dah nya di berik duit bagik beribu-ribu dengan girlfriend nya sampe berhutang dengan Ah Long ya pahal?"

Oh, pity her because she just adopted a son and now she's out of work.

"Siapa suruh angkat anak mun kerja sik stable?"

But, the father did buy all the children a house each except for the little brother.

"Habis ya? Mok lagik di suap makan oleh bapak?"

About a cousin who is married with a son and how the wife didn't inform the husband that she is going on a vacation with her friends only informing the husband after her ticket was purchased. On another occasion, she cried when my mother suggested to use Oral Aid on her baby son for his ulcers. You know, 'cos she was afraid it might poison him. Again, they were reasoning perhaps the girl is young, therefore most of her decisions, sometimes are just a tad hasty and immature. I said, "Siapa suruh kahwin awal mun perangai macam miak kecik?"

Oh, she's not that young. She's 26.

"Age is but a number. Alasan."

Someone needed to hear that.

If you're gonna hold a gun, make sure you're ready to pull the trigger. Starbright OUT!

Shameless.

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Sometimes, I give out too much information. Sometimes, I'm just shameless.

Starbucks Barista : Would you like another Chocolate Cream Chip with that?
Me : I'm still trying to finish the last one!
Starbucks Barista : Tall tu sikit je tu.
Me : Well, last time I had grande, I had to go to the toilet 8 times!

There was a 5 second delay of him maintaining his smile before I realised how shameless I was and continued with, "I usually just drink a glass of water per day, sometimes less," followed with, "He he," I was good to go.

Me : Once I peed in an empty biscuit's tin.
Boyfriend gasped.
Me : Guess how old I was? 19.

I never told anyone else that, aside from Jai on Twitter, until now. Take note that airtight biscuit's tin are not so airtight after all. We were duped into believing that it is. I'll sue you in court, Love Letter!

Me : Once I peed in my pants outside the house, next to a drain. I was 12.
The friend said something along the lines of my act being unbelievable? Or was she in awe?

In my defense, I just arrived home after a three day camp (I was a sucky girl scout) somewhere in town without a proper toilet. Public toilet near the market is not taken into account in my list of proper toilet.

Although, me answering questions pertaining to my weight couldn't possibly be something to be ashamed of, right? Even if I were to lie and say that I'm 53 kg, that's just plain manure. Lying about your weight will not make you appear any thinner. My weight fluctuates from 62 to 65 nowadays. The thinnest I've been was 55. Why do some girls refuse to say how much they weigh anyway? Mun dah gemuk, gemuk lah ya!

I know my shameless stories all involved business number one - don't get me started on two. It's 'cos I'm currently at Starbucks with Alau and had a tall cuppa Chocolate Cream Chip and it's raining heavily outside. Brr!

I may need to go to the toilet again.

Next time you see me, I will be four inches taller.

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Well, that is, if I have these on.





Took the additional two's 'cos it took me so long to figure out which setting is the most suitable for capturing pictures in the dark, so I thought why not take some more? The rubber wrist watch on the left hand side costs me RM7 at One Utama and the photo frame you see in the picture on the right is of Alau and I when we were only 16 years old. Awww, so ugly!

So, let me repeat my main points before concluding this update. New shoes. Birthday gift. It is red. It is suede.

Bloody sweet, huh?

Hiss.

If you are struck by some collosal unfortunate fate you have brought onto yourselves then, don't start blaming God. Instead, find hope that whatever your situation is, there are people out there suffering from more terrible misfortune compared to yours.

Your family was not killed during the huge earthquake in Chile. Instead of queuing up for clean water, you can boil it yourself on the stove. You're not bearing a child from your abusive father who has been raping you ever since you were a little kid. You live in a house, that not only has a bed for you to sleep on, but a sofa set in the living room. You live in a house, not a cardboard box. You weren't driven out of your own house by an evil stepmother when you were a kid and forced to slavery and prostitution. You commute to work everyday via public transportation but can still afford a nice meal during lunch hours and continue this everyday for a month. At least, you had a meal in one day when some can't even find anything edible even after scouring the dried up lands they call home.

So please, find in your heart to pray for these people and make an effort for yourself. You can start by listing down things that you are thankful for. That oughtta make you feel at least gracious for being alive today.

Breathe in and repeat after me, "Thank you."

Gravy power.

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Tea time.

I love potatoes.

Throughout my years of growing up in becoming a lady in the kitchen (cue the laughter), I've learned several ways of making potato yummers. My favourite is a recipe taught by Nina - the classic mashed potato with gravy. Though, I can't be sure if everyone would love it, but I sure do!

For the mashed potato;

Cut your potatoes into dices. You can either peel the skin off, or leave it. I prefer the latter. Boil the potatoes until it gets all mushy and ready to be all gooey with some dash of pepper and warm milk and butter. Mash all that shit up.

For the gravy;

Melt two spoon-fulls of butter in a lowly heated wok. In a separate container, pour in two cups of water, add a block of Maggi chicken cube, and two spoons of flour. Make sure the chicken cube is dissolved in the water, together with the flour.

Slice a shallot into half and dip it in the melted butter in the wok and leave it until the surface of the sliced shallot turned into a brownish shade. Take the shallot out before pouring in the concoction of water, chicken cube, and flour. Add in more chicken cube little by little until you get the taste that you want. Stir the gravy until its done.

Ta-dah! Not much for a recipe and I'm sure some of you has got better mashed potato recipe up your sleeves, but it's really an achievement for someone like me.

And I love potatoes. Mmm Brandon Boyd.. I mean! Mmm mashed potato and gravy on Brandon Boyd's body.. I mean! Yea.. Exactly that.

Nice to know you.

In 2008, I went to watch Incubus in Bukit Kiara.

All day long, we walked and ran from one stage to another. A treat! I say. I jumped to bands, whose songs that if it were to air on the radio, I'd change the channel in a millisecond, just for the heck of it!

When the time came, we were at the front (non-existent) row, the closest we could to the stage. We were so close that we were within a spitting distance from Brandon Boyd. Everyone's bopping heads were like a scene out of a Coca Cola ad. I remember trying to time freeze the moment in my head, recording every adrenaline pumped in my body, shuddering with the thought of The Incubus, themselves, was right in front of my face.

Halfway through their performance, I shared a bottle of a drink with a complete stranger next to me. I figured, we were smack right in the middle and there couldn't be any other way for me to quench my thirst anyway, so, to hell with it. She slithered in the crowd sandwiching us to the gate barrier and made her way to grab the bottle from the stage block in front and gave it to me. I couldn't be any more gracious than I was. I liked her from then on.

On stage, Incubus pulled their usual stint of walking away after a few songs that got everyone chanting for them. I, on the other hand, was cheering for them to play Stellar. The complete stranger glanced at me and smiled, immediately chanting for the same song too. When the band emerged from back stage and returned to their rightful instruments, we held hands for a brief moment and screamed our fucking lungs off (this time Brandon Boyd took his singlet off!) when DJ Kilmore spun the turntable to Stellar.

I still remember her face. And the feeling of our clasped hands together, her nails slightly digging into my palm in excitement. She reminded me of a girl I once knew when I was in our secondary school's Prom Committee. We shook hands, after. See ya around, we bade each other. But we never did come to that again.

Watching Incubus live was indeed a materialised three-fold utopian dream. The bend and thrust of that body made my year. I could go back to that night over and over again and my heart would still be jumping for fucking joy each time.




Honestly, I don't know any other way to end this update aside from..

Nyam nyam!

Kidding. But jokes aside..

Mok jilaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.

Bye.

Clear the ball!

I have this thing when it comes to being surrounded by people consuming alcoholic beverages. For whatever psychological reasons it may be, when I am around drunk friends, I have a slight tendency of acting like one, myself. Hey, if everyone is tipsy and acting a bit out of the loop, why should I contain myself? I figured. And I figured right! As spotted a few days before that when we had another trip to precious Sid's, when Alau had more than three glasses of mixed drinks, we were swooping the highway like a pair of crazy loons after, all the while shouting random remarks, that was, unfortunately, only hilarious at that time.

With conjunction to my boyfriend's birthday last week (our birthday celebration can go as long as a few months as long as Starbright says it is!), we had another bout of round at Sid's on Saturday, this time with David and Panai. Sat at the bar at at an awkward L-angle where we had to turn our backs to talk the the other pair on the other side. We sipped our drinks and shared a few conversations as more faces flooded the pub as midnight beckoned.

Things only took an exciting swerve when the football match between Chelsea and Manchester City kicked off. I was not rooting for any team, initially. But by the time the first goal was scored, I was clapping my hands for each goal that followed afterwards and gasping at every misses and near goals. The whole pub seemed hyped up by everyone's cheer for Manchester City, except for some anomalous number of Chelsea fan. With my most loathed footballer, whom ties with Christiano Gaynaldo, Drogba in a team, you won't ever see me putting my hands together for that side of the field.

It became manic towards the end of the 90 minutes with everyone's eyes fixated on the screen above our heads. It felt good.

Also, we met up with Onn shortly afterwards!

It was a great Saturday evening. Hope you had a wonderful one yourself, too!