Hubby sent me this link this morning that I read and just couldn't believe. It's on freedom of speech (or rather, what's happening to it in Malaysia). Check out 'Malaysia mulls gag on bloggers'.
Hubby sent me this link this morning that I read and just couldn't believe. It's on freedom of speech (or rather, what's happening to it in Malaysia). Check out 'Malaysia mulls gag on bloggers'.
I can't help but complain! I know I shouldn't, but apparently, I'm not the only one!
I got sick over my birthday and infected Jason as well (my mum said not to kiss him, but would I listen? Oh no!!! At least I've learnt my lesson). And so, both of us were sick for my birthday.
Anyway, what I was going to say was that while I was sick, I still did house chores (e.g. laundry, wash the dishes etc). Jason, on the other hand, stayed well away from water or any sort of housework (didn't help one bit that his mom shoo'ed him away from the kitchen!). He didn't even offer to help, he just complained about being sick, plonked his backside onto the couch and watched Futurama.
And so, I went to work to whinge about him being like that and lo behold, all my other work colleagues say the same things about their male partners! The main consensus is that they're big SOOKS (I think that's how its spelt).
Whenever the boys are sick, they turn into big complaining babies who do nothing but say how sick they are (we believe that they really should win an Oscar for their performances). A headache becomes a brain tumour, the sniffles develop into pneumonia and they might as well be coughing their lungs out! The whine and complain and basically want to be mothered. They don't bother to take any medication unless directed (or shoved down their throats) and just lie down and vegitate.
Why? Why on earth would anyone be like that? Is it just a boy thing? Is it just some ruse to get some attention? Or do boys really want to be comforted like a littl' kid? Granted, not all boys are like that (some boys do grow up into men)...but the majority seem to be happy with the way things are. Am I right boys?
|Your Power Color Is Magenta|
At Your Highest:
You energize yourself and push others to suceed.
At Your Lowest:
You feel frustrated and totally overwhelmed.
You are suprised by who you attract. You're a love magnet.
How You're Attractive:
Open and free spirited, people want to explore the world with you.
Your Eternal Question:
"What is my next source of inspiration?"
|You Are Chinese Food|
Exotic yet ordinary.
People think they've had enough of you, but they're back for more in an hour.
|Your Theme Song is Born to Be Wild by Steppenwolf|
"I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under"
A total independent spirit, you can't be held down or fenced in.
You crave the feeling of wind on your face... and totally freedom.
|You Are a Glazed Donut|
Okay, you know that you're plain - and you're cool with that.
You prefer not to let anything distract from your sweetness.
Your appeal is understated yet universal. Everyone dig you.
And in a pinch, you'll probably get eaten.
This is the story of a gardener who grew the most beautiful single rose the world had ever seen. It was a black rose, which was unlikely, and it bloomed the whole year round, which was impossible.
Hearing of this rose, the King decided to see it for himself. With his entourage, he rode for seven days to the gardener's simple cottage. On the morning of the seventh day, he arrived and saw the rose. It was even more beautiful than the King hand imagined, and he wanted it.
"How did you come to grow such a beautiful rose?" the King asked the gardener, who was standing silently by.
"I planted that rose on the day my wife died," replied the gardener, looking only at the flower. "It is a true, deep black, the very colour of her hair. The rose grew from my love for her."
The King turned to his servants and said "Uproot this rosebush and take it to the palace. It is too beuatiful for anyone but me."
But when the rosebush was transplanted to the palace, it lasted only a year before it withered and died. The King, who gazed upon it everyday, angrily decided that it was the gardener's fault, and he set out at once to punish him.
But when he arrived at the gardener's cottage, he was amazed to see a new rosebush growing there, with a single rose. But this rose was green, and even more beautiful than the black rose.
The King once again asked the gardener how he came to grow such a beautiful rose.
"I planted this rose on the anniversary of my wife's death," said the gardener, his eyes only on the rose. "It is the colour of her eyes, which I looked into every morning. The rose grew from my love of her."
"Take it!" commanded the King, and he turned away to ride the seven days back to his palace. Such a beautiful flower was not fit for a common man.
The green rose bloomed for two years, and the King looked upon it every day, for it brought him great contentment. Then, one morning, it was dead, the bush withered, the petals fallen to the ground. The King picked up the petals and spoke to no one for two days. Then he said, as if to convince himself, "The gardener will have another rose."
So once again he rode off with his entourage. This time, they took a spade and the palace jardinier.
Such was the King's impatience that they rode for half the nights as well as days, but there were wrong turns and flooded bridges, and it still took seven days before he once again rode to the gardener's cottage. And there was a new rosebush, with a single rose. A red rose, so beautiful that the King's men were struck silent and the King himself could only stare and gesture to the palace jardinier to take it away.
Even though the King didn't ask, the gardener spoke before the spade broke the earth around the bush.
"I planted this rose three years after the death of my wife," he said. "It is the colour of her lips, which I first kissed under a harvest moon on the hottest of summer nights. This rose grew from my love of her."
The King seemed not to hear but kept staring at the rose. Finally, he tore his gaze away and turned his horse for home.
The jardinier watched him go and stopped digging for a moment.
"Your roses are the most beautiful I have ever seen," he said. "They could only grow from a great love. But why grow them only to have these memories taken from you?"
The gardener smiled and said, "I need nothing to remind me of my wife. When I walk alone under the night sky, I see the blackness of her hair. When the light catches the green glass of a bottle, I see her eyes. When the sun is setting all red against the hills and the wind touches my cheek, I feel her kiss."
"I grew the first rose because I was afraid I might forget. When it was gone, I knew that I had lost nothing. No one can take the memory of my love."
The jardinier frowned, and he began to cut again with his spade. Then he asked, "But why do you keep growing the roses?"
"I grow them for the King," said the gardener. "He has no memories of his own, no love. And after all, they are only flowers."
The innocent victims of Internet child abuse cannot speak for themselves.
But you can.
With your help, we can eradicate this evil trade.
We do not need your money.
We need you to light a candle of support.
We're aiming to light at least One Million Candles by December 31, 2006.
This petition will be used to encourage governments, politicians, financial institutions, payment organisations, Internet service providers, technology companies and law enforcement agencies to eradicate the commercial viability of online child abuse.
They have the power to work together. You have the power to get them to take action.
Please light your candle at lightamillioncandles.com or send an email of support to email@example.com.
Together, we can destroy the commercial viability of Internet child abuse sites that are destroying the lives of innocent children.
Thank you for all your well wishes, prayers, emails, smses and support. I spoke to my dad this evening. He sounds weak and tired. But at least he's feeling well enough to talk and tell me not to waste my money on a ticket back to Malaysia to see him.
Not feeling well and thinking about me saving money. Almost back to normal. Almost like a normal conversation...only softer, more tired, older...
My mom told me that he had been re-admitted again last night but was discharged this morning. She said that the doctor had given him some medication that caused severe gastric pains and vomiting.
Mom said how our family friends came to look after dad so that she could go get his medication at the pharmacy...how a family friend went to get stuff for mom to make soup and porridge....how everyone's offered help, one way or another.
& how I'm a thousand miles away, not being able to do what a daughter should be there to do. *sigh* Breaks my heart.
And still, I sit here, unsure. The question still remains unanswered.
Should I go home?
"Dad's been admitted to UH since this a.m. Might be stroke. Still waiting on diagnosis."
My hands start perspiring and I start feeling really weird...hot and cold all over and just plain uneasy. My dad...in the hospital. So I ring Jason and say "Are you ready to go? Dad's in the hospital."
We rush back home and I ring mom. She starts telling me everything (how dad didn't recognise his own hand...how he couldn't feel his toes...how he was sitting on the floor of the bedroom...) and that the neighbour helped mom to take dad to the hospital. The docs didn't know what was wrong. Mom was still waiting for someone to come & tell us what was wrong with dad.
"They've done a CT scan and its clear. They're concerned about his irregular heart beat. They still don't know what's wrong."
Waiting to find out what's wrong is always killing. Seconds drag into minutes drag into hours and feels like forever. Not knowing is always worse than knowing. You can't do anything with the unknown...you can't deal with it because you don't know what IT is...you can't see it, feel it, touch it, comprehend it. It becomes larger and scarier than what it really is, what it really should be. It becomes a monster that haunts you and stalks you and makes life a living hell.
When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot...and hang on.
So anyway, I trudge up my 4 flights of stairs (alright...3 of them are really mini flights but when it's not quite 8 in the morning and you can't really be bothered, all this effort is really beyond me). It feels like a millenia before I reach the office and let myself through the iron gates of hell (no jokes on the iron gates - they installed it last week due to a homeless guy walking around stealing food from the fridges and going into the girl's bathrooms. So who says the workplace doesn't resemble prison?).
So anyway, I walk into my office and the first person I see is X. She's talking to my boss and I can only see her back. I get to my desk, put my stuff away, start up my computer and turn around as X starts walking towards me to talk.
"Holy bazookas!" "What da...???!?!?!?!?!?" "OH MY GAWD!!!!! That should be totally illegal...I cannot believe..."
Random thoughts race through my head. My mind's not taking in what my eyes are seeing. The only thing going through my head is "That's just wrong." "I cannot believe my eyes!" "What on earth could have possibly been going through her head?" "& may your cup overfloweth...."
And overflow it did! Bearing in mind 'extremely stuffy Bank environment' and here we have X in an extremely low cut top with her assets almost free of their restraints! I know they say "If you've got it, flaunt it" but this is bordering indecent! Actually, it IS indecent! (I'm sure the guys get the picture and are happily drooling at their keyboards this very instant. Get a grip men and wipe that slobber before it does any damage to the computer.)
Now, I've never been a super conservative person and I believe in self expression but don't you think this is taking it a bit far? Having a young, nubile, well endowed woman walking around the office with half her assets hanging out? I'm not jealous or anything. Heck! I'm happy that I won't have to deal with gravity and the rages of motherhood combined! Not to mention age and wrinkles...
But when I think about it...was it just too much for my brain to comprehend early in the morning? Or have I just become a conservative, old-fashioned Malaysian?
Last nite, we took a girlfriend out to celebrate her *ahem*th birthday (it's not nice to give away a woman's age!) *grin*. We went to a Turkish Restaurant called Alanya. Not bad decor, dim lighting, very romantic, a tad bit stuffy...but good food (sorry, no pics) and good company.
Anyway, I've known this girlfriend since I was in Uni. She was my IP201 tutor, and then became my half sponsor for my Australian PR. In the good old days, she fed us vegetable lasagna and made the best rocky roads EVER! & she made a promise to us 5 years ago - "If any of you get married, I promise to make a trip to Malaysia to attend the wedding".
Good to her word, she came for our wedding. & we're glad that she did because we found out that that was when she came to the realisation that we were friends. Full stop. Nothing more, nothing less. Not tutor-student. Not sponsorer-sponsored. Not mentor-mentee. Just friends.
I asked her what made her think that there was an ulterior motive for our friendship. She said that she had always thought that people wanted to be friends with her because she gave them her time, advice, opinion, money...bla, bla, bla...the list goes on. She never realised that we were just friends. That we wanted to BE her friends just because. That that is what friendship is all about, just being a friend.
It's taken awhile for her to come to that realisation...but now she has and she has come to grips on that with all her other friends and is enjoying just BEING a friend to her friends and not having to live up/give advice/be a mentor/etc.
To me, its kinda sad that it took this long for her to realise it. But I'm happy that she has come to accept it and I'm happy for her...because it's nice to have a friend who just wants to be...a friend.
I don't get it. Why do people complain? Hang on, that's not right. I understand why people complain. What I don't understand is why some people complain NON-STOP???!!! Isn't it exhausting? Don't you think you need to get over the issue and just get on with your life? What good is it wasting hot air over something that you have no way of changing?
This colleague of mine, complains everyday about the bank screwing up his loan application, how slow his builder is going, how he's never going to be able to move in, how his furniture company is ringing him everyday, how the boss doesn't treat him well, how there's so much work, how his dad should be looking after his mum and not working, how there should be a pay increase...on and on and on! Even I find it exhausting listening to him (which shows you something coz' I'm not one to make it a big deal if someone needs an ear to bed!).
But for some reason, it's not getting into his head that it's the same story over and over again and if he doesn't get out of this rut of looking as if the sky is about to fall, he's going to be in the same cycle of unhappiness and pessimism.
And it's not just him for that matter! I find the people here seem to complain a whole lot more than back home! Now, why is that? Is there more stuff to complain about here? Is it just because they have it so good here that they don't realise what its like being in another country where getting the same standard of living is almost non-existent? There are so many things to be thankful for. What happened to looking on the bright side?
I just pray everyday that I don't turn into one of THEM! Remember, tell me off (especially you Pugly) if I start to complain! Or just tell me to shut up. 'Nuff said.
I bet when you see 'dolphin kick', you picture in your head some mean-ass dolphin, tying a red band around his head and using his ummm...tail...to annihilate the ummm...bad guys (bad fish?!?)! (See, I can see this mean-ass dolphin in my head but when I try and describe him on screen, the poor dolphin seems like some wannabe fish who's trying to get into Hollywood!)
Anyway, moving on, that kick's got absolutely nothing to do with the mean-ass dolphin. It's this 'kick' I learned at swimming yesterday (rather, attempted to learn). The instructor was trying to teach us what we needed to learn to perform the butterfly stroke, which incorporates the dolphin kick to get you moving!
Oh, in vain his explanations were! The two of us were confused at what he wanted us to do. Clear as mud I tell you!
"You move your body like this" (and he's gesturing with his hands and doing what looks like the hula dance gone wrong).
And off we go trying to follow his instructions, only to have the both of us look like how fish do when they're out of water, trashing their bodies on dry land (only a thousand times less graceful). Did I mention I didn't move forward at all?
Mr. Instructor then says that we should do porpoising, which will definitely help us get the movement together. Even more gesturing and monkey jumping! You basically spring off the floor of the pool, jumping upwards and out, and then dive back into the water to touch the floor of the pool and stand up.
***Betcha can't imagine ME doing this! I couldn't either!!!***
And we're off again, this time looking like 'ikan bilis' frying on a hot pan. And while all this is going on, I'm thinking "I'm too old to be doing this".
So today, as I write this, I'm thinking of my aching legs and body (and ears! God knows how much water's gone into them...I needa get me some earplugs!) and not feeling the least bit excited that I'm getting older after reading Pugly's comment. Sure it's good to be alive...but growing older can wait another day.
Can you believe this? Virgin Mary on toast? I've heard about accepting the body of Christ but eating Virgin Mary? What has religion come to these days? Is this fanaticism or commercialisation of religion? What on earth was the creator thinking when he made Virgin Mary toast press?
"Gee...wouldn't it be great to have stuff on toast? Maybe Virgin Mary?".
Sometimes I wonder what has religion come to. Living here in Australia, you don't see many people who practise their faith openly. Seems a bit strange to me when we are encouraged in Malaysia to have freedom of choice and encouraged to embrace religion and live it. Plus staying next to a mosque and having the place swarming come Friday prayers. Why is it that not many people do that here?
Everyday, I travel to work by train and I see lots and lots of people reading newspapers, books, magazines, textbooks, notes...but today, for the first time, I saw someone take out the Holy Bible and read it. I don't know why but I was 'touched' (even then, that doesn't seem like the right word) to finally see someone freely practising his religion. But think about it...one out of thousands (bearing in mind I travel almost everyday, perhaps millions)?
Someone once told me that once people stop believing in religion, it will be the end of the world. How far away are we from that?
No, that has nothing to do with me. But it's still exciting!
I just received news from a close friend that his wife is 4 weeks pregnant!!! Not to jinx things or anything but I'm so excited for him and I think it's just EXCELLENT news!!! Congrats Futos & family and we look forward to seeing Jr No. 2 (not quite sure when but I'm sure there'll be pictures before we see Jr in the flesh!).
& no...not my turn yet!
§ Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you.
I still can't believe we got tickets!!! Granted, it's not the best tickets in the world (and I've got a big hole in my pocket paying for 3 tickets)...but I'm going to see Hugh Jackman! Live! In the flesh (minutely of course. But I'm sure it'll be projected onto big screen. But still...in the flesh). I can just see Pugly salivating *grin* I haven't started feeling really excited yet...but I'm sure as the date draws close (we're going to see the show on the 29th of September), there'll be more stuff going on about it and I'll start looking forward to it.
As it is, we've got Eurobeat and Swan Lake on Ice next month...talk about becoming cultured *ahem* *grin* Eurobeat is supposed to be a spoof version of Eurovision (I think it's like a European Idol competition....not 100% on what it's supposed to be) but I'm sure I can tell you all about it after we go for the show next month.
Oh what fun!!!
I know you’re feeling sad,
but there’s no need to be —
even if I can’t be there, purring
and rubbing around your feet.
I’ve still got a windowsill,
and warm places in the sun.
Though no one really owns a cat,
for me, you were the one.
I know my time had come
and know that you did, too.
Please don’t think you did me wrong.
You did what you had to do.
You may be feeling guilty
that my life is at its end,
but please don’t feel that way.
Through memories, you’ll always be my friend.
— Author Unknown
Perhaps the word I'm looking for is more self-centered/selfish. Some relationships are more "What's in it for me?" The gestures, comments, conversation... it's all 'me, me, ME!'. There's no lepaking just for the sake of being together and enjoying each other's company. Which is such a shame because that's the only time you get to talk about nothing in particular, make nonsense remarks and relax.
Today, we went to The Blue Mussel Restaurant to celebrate Crab's birthday. It was good to hang out with the gang and chill. Ate too much food and had 'Death by Chocolate' (Pugly, you would have enjoyed it! Layers and layers of thick, rich chocolate cake!!!).
So to my Crab and my Cute Turtle, I dedicate this post to you both. Wishing you both a birthday filled with happy memories, good food and close friends to remind you that although you're getting older, you're doing it with people who love you heaps.
Today's quote comes complimentary from someone far away, who let a young calf drive his manual sports car a long, long time ago. [N.B. Did it without any engine failure either!] It's funny how close true friends really are, even though they are actually miles away.
Just the other day, I got an sms from an ex-colleague letting me know that she's leaving the company to be a full time mummy! How exciting for her! I can't wait to see her littl' kid. Kids are just adorable...but always the conversation comes back to "So when are you guys having kids?" Answer: Not just yet.
Anyway, getting back to the subject at hand...Friendship. I have not been able to have the same sort of relationships I have with my Malaysian buddies compared to relationships I have with the Australians. Sure, they may seem polite and everything (and be all nice and whatnot in front of you) ...but it's just a show. There is no sincerity in the gestures. It seems so contrived and fake that you wonder if they truly HAVE friends at all!
A Mat Salleh who came for the wedding couldn't believe how we welcomed her into the family and treated her just like one of us. She was blown away and has been raving about it ever since. Kinda makes you wonder what sort of environment did she grow up in. Makes you appreciate so much more how wonderful it is to be Malaysian. And how I can't wait to be back.
Did I mention I'll be back next year?
"WOOO HOOOO!!!! KL HERE I COME!!!!!"
From the bottom of my heart and from all of Jason's family...thank you all for your thoughts, your well wishes, your prayers and your kind words. It means the world to us all and all is going well.
Jason's dad's discharged today...so the doctor feels he's well enough to face the big, bad world again.
Now the drama's all over and we can go back to real life. Oh joy *said with so much enthusiasm, you'd have to prod me with a stick to check if I'm alive*. Did I mention I'm not keen to go back to work?
Random thoughts are going through my head..."In the hospital? Why? What's going on? What's happened? Is he okay?"
"The only thing they said is to go to the emergency ward, he's made a turn for the worse".
We rush down to the emergency room, wondering "What the hell's going on??? What's wrong with him??? Are we going to make it??? Has he been in an accident???". His mum's there and she's not looking too crash hot.
The doctor comes in.
He looks at us, introduces himself ("Hi, I'm Ken, the cardiologist") and shakes our hands.
"Your dad's had a heart attack. It was quite severe. We're moving him to the cardiac care unit to keep an eye on him. Do you have any questions?"
WTF?!?!? (Pardon my French). Of course, I have questions! 600 of them...starting with this:
Since when has Jason's dad had any heart problems? How is he doing? What caused it? What's going to happen now? What do you plan to do to make him better? How long will it take? Why didn't you do something to prevent it? Why is he looking so pale? Can't you make him better now?
But of course, I just keep my mouth shut until my brain can function properly and let them take him up the elevator into the intensive care wing.
He's on the bed...looking tired, frail and old...what's going to happen now?
Only problem is that my dad was given 1 month MC for that...Jason's dad's self employed. What's going to happen then?
The cow has landed!
I can't believe it...just when I told myself I wouldn't get sucked into blogging...guess what happens? I'm BLOGGING! It was an innocent conversation I had with someone whom I hadn't spoken to in awhile and she said "If you can write, you can blog. You just can't be bothered".
Oh how true that was! I truly couldn't be bothered (3 other people who attempted to sway me can attest to that!)...and yet what the heck am I doing here now trying to put thoughts into words?
One can only guess the workings of a cow's mind...now, if only I could figure out how this confounded thing works...