CIRCUSITCH

We have mastered the art of losing passports. Earlier this morning, the whole house was ransacked by the impromptu search team consisted of supermom, miss grubby, and the vacation goer herself. Superdad smoked outside at the garden while the Custom Officer a.k.a supercat wonders if anyone notices her belly jiggle. The whole house smelled like pandemonium. I remembered my own lost passport, only to recover it again, found on top of the fridge. The goddamn fridge.

In the midst of riffling through one of the drawers, I saw it, a souvenir given to me from someone in my past. How it got there was lost on me, and I stopped for a while to think about how random and out of place it looks, sitting pretty beside documents, musty smelling receipts, yellowed envelopes. I thought I have lost it. 2 years back, cleaning out the contents of my room, I threw most of the stuff out, and I wondered what happened to it. Your absolute favorite weapon, which you gave to me because it was your favorite, but now I am yours. Was yours.

Time actually stopped for a moment while I ran my fingers along the length, felt the bumpy edges, and tried to recall the moment this thing represents and every hopeful, youthful energy it brought. Considered giving it to you back, but then again I don’t think you do this anymore. This object is a symbol of what we – you and I -both were, and how things – ourselves included – have gone and moved on, changed for the better. It brought a smile to my face, how funny life is. How hopeful we were.

I would like to think that I remember the kind of person you once were when I look at this pair of wonderful magic. I hope you remember the kind of person I used to be to you too, in anything of mine you still have.

Here’s to lost passports, and friendships. May these things be found again, and reconciled.

1) Maps/Globes: I always love them. I could bury myself with just maps and my imagination will just explode. When I was a kid and I got so obsessed with maps I sometimes had to stop, close my eyes and relax because my head was pounding so hard with all the excitement of creating a fantastic travel story. I could SEE a tiny cars, bicycles, forming on the maps.
2) Cardboards: They’re like canvas or a blank piece of anything – I take a look at them and my pulse picks up; so many ideas I want to do with them.
3) Cardio/sports: Acquaintances say I’m just healthy. Close friends say I’m obsessed. Those who are very close? They say I’m deranged and in need of a relaxation or a white jacket. My rebuttal to them: I’m just VERY dedicated.
4) Food: Damnit. I’m crazy. I’m thinking about a lot of food these days. Satay ayam, then Magnum almond, Nasi Beriyani, salad with salmon, green peas, seafood, nasi lemak, maggi goreng, chocolate chip cookies, hot fudge brownies, ikan keli masak sambal… the list goes fucking on. LAPARRRR
5) Gardening: For no reason I’m suddenly obsessed with growing green things. Actually it’s a no brainer: my parents are avid green thumb-ers and it’s only natural that passion seeps to us. I have a potted plant at work I love VERY much, whose name is Vincent or Victor (can never decide/remember) and ever since then I get excited looking at green stuff. I don’t want flowers… I just want green leafy crawling things! I like tiny pots and big pots!
6) Organizing: I’m very much of a list person. I LOVE LISTS. I also love planning for a trip, a party or anything. I like orgazining tools – I find myself browsing longer at the storage area in IKEA more than any place, I like buying organizers, filofax, calendars (I have 3 desk calendars on my work place), boxes, folders/files.
7) Cyclists: NOT those fixed gear ‘i cycle in jeans and trendy shoes’ dudes. But I mean cyclist cyclists. The sprinters, the climbers – roadies. When everyone was going hooyeah worldfucking cup I am tuned in to tdf. I love bigh thighs and I can’t denyyyyyy. Only a real man can wear tights and look like a bad ass climbing up those hills. Nak Kawin ngan cyclist.
Telecommunication: I love the scope of my work. Telecommunication kicks ass. Why is satellite so damn interesting? Why do I feel like laughing excitedly when I hear the words Backbone Link and Design in one sentence? Because my excitement is above -30dB, and my heart rates goes way faster than 1gbps.

I’m at a new place for work, no longer in the dreaded twin towers. You only miss it when you don’t have it – why does that godammn quote has to be so true and so smug. I miss not having to flush my own crap when I do a number 2. I miss going down at 1030am and buying a feast for myself from Cold Storage. But I don’t miss the cold. It’s warmer at my new place.

I’m not sure if I miss the train rides.
I’m driving now, and to be honest I spend a lot of time in the car than I do in the train. I’m not sure what to make of it, on one hand, I enjoy the freedom driving gives me, but on the other hand I FUCKING HATE to drive, also; my thoughts tend to go wayward and awry and disarray and I start to think about a lot of stuff.

I’m going to miss the pretty girls I get to see in the train. Pretty girls just get to me – I take a look at their faces and just like that I am awed. I do not need to get to know them, I like the capability of injecting my own ideas of what they are like.

For the past 6 months, not a lot of you know what has been up in my life. To be honest, I can keep a secret (or secrets) quite well. Or maybe I just don’t see a reason in telling. They’re not secrets, but rather another facet of my life that I just do not show.

I am fucking tired.
Spent.
Wrung dry.
EXHAUSTED.

Apparently, I am crazy. Thanks to bad diet and lack of sleep. But things in my life are going great.

Body heat is the best thing in the world.

A part of a lovely poem I think is kick ass:

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

but I am sad that the World Cup is over.

I don’t watch the game. I only watched one and that was because the television was on. Of course I love the good looking boys on the screen. But nothing beat Tour De France’s boys. FUCKING A-CLASS THIGHS. And talk about mental strength and resillience! I want those in a MAN.

Anyway, with World Cup going on, everybody’s lazy. People come in late for work, bosses are understanding, and everything is going well. Today, I woke up as usual at 530 am and the whole world’s awake! I didn’t feel so lonely anymore. goddamnit they should have World Cup every month.

My boyfriend, for someone who lives, works, and breathes football, watches the games in and out. Sometimes we would be having dinner when the match is on and nobody cared. But that’s because we are both fucking sportsman/woman baybe. Who needs to watch the idiot box when we do our own heart pumping activity, day in day out? Today was a great cardio for the both of us, which of course ended in a little fight because goddamn it, both of us are Type A people and definitely will want to win on whose skills are better. Dier pon takleh kener tegur. Obvious gila kot kaki kau dragging! hahahah whatever. Technically now I am a tad better than him but being the natural he is he’s catching up. Of course, he’s a dude.

Bye.

so here goes, URTV style:

1) Guys with gymi-fied upper bodies. Please take note: YOUR LEGS. You have them for a reason, to be worked on as equally (maybe even more) as your upper bodies. Please don’t come to me and show me your toned pecs and triceps and deltoids only for me to look down and see your fucking CHICKEN LEGS. If I want to date an inverted triangle I would have done so, thank you. You’re not Mr Incredible. Even the outline of your shadow makes me want to puke. Give us some strapping thighs girls can hold on to, comeplete with calves you can store apples in. Trust me, strong thighs and calves are WAY better than pecs cause when you get older the chest muscles sag and you have to wear a trainee bra.
Intai2: Benci nyer lelaki upper body cam sial tapi kaki keding! Kesian.

2) MLM fanatics: You should be ashamed of yourself. No, I do not want to be ‘under’ you, or buy your stinking slimming corset, or join the ranks of other low-mentality Malays who hate to put in effort in hard work but want to get rich faster. The propaganda is appealing: who wouldn’t want to afford a spanking BMW at the age of 26? But to get them so easy? So that you can show off? Whenever someone I know gets suckered into the MLM scene, I don’t know which one of us I am more embarassed for: them for having absolutely no pride and dignity, or me for knowing such a loser.
Intai2: Kalau nak di ‘bawah’ orang, biarlah orang tu lelaki berbadan (dan kaki) tegap sasa. Awwww.

Between this MLM and marrying fat, aging, balding anak Datuk or the Datuk himself, I learned one thing: it’s not easy being rich in Malaysia… that is, unless you’re a brainless Malay whore. To all the other ladies, Malays, Chinese, Indians and lain lain, let us work hard and honest and be proud of every single thing we starve for.

Maybe there’s a part two.

Some things I figure out along the way of these first 6 months of 2010:

1) Tracy Chapman and the four non blondes singer should be bestfriends. And how many songs does she (Chapman) have to do on broke couples.
2) Notorious B.I.G is damn right: the mo’ money you have, the mo’ problems you get.
3) Which then a friend pointed out that Bob Marley is a philosophical genius too: No Woman, No Cry.
4) Which means John Lennon is essentially a pussy: All You Need is Love. Tell that to abused housewives!

I have not been listening to music for months. Believe it. I recently opened my iTunes and the last time I had them on was in March. I still think Rancid and Jimi Hendrix as cool… and sometimes I wished I could go back to my 14 year old self totally absorbed with the whole complete album of Bush. My favorite running track would be Smashing Pumpkins’ Bullet with Butterfly Wings. Damn nice warm up song.

My favorite thing to do when I’m driving is to have an unplugged concert with myself. My songs of choice are mostly suited for Lilith Fair, which is apt because they are songs form most of the lineups. Obviously the songs are totally heartbreaking and it doesn’t work if your voice didn’t break as you sing the high notes. I usually avoid the tolls because I wouldn’t want to ruin my rhythm as I’m rolling my windows down to pay. No toll booth assistant is going to hear me singing off-key anyway. That gift is mine to keep.

I remember I used to have this Happy Dance that I do when I’m REALLY excited for something. I don’t do them anymore, but not because I’m hardly excited… I think I’m more excited than Excite Bike… ohmigod do you guys remember that freaking game? I LOVE IT. I’m such a winner in Excite Bike. I hate stage 3 where there introduce the small humps and the grassy patches. You lose plenty of seconds when you ride through them. I love it how the engines overheat easily.

I need to go back to my notes now. FREQUENCIES!!!