'Rojak' mind - still at large

I am trying to work on some future postings but my brain is not cooperating with me. So, instead of pressuring myself into writing something, I will just share stuff that does not require me to think.

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Received this in an e-mail:

All of these are legitimate companies that didn't spend quite enough time considering how their online names might appear ... and be misread.

These are not made up. Check them out yourself!

1. Who Represents is where you can find the name of the agent that represents any celebrity. Their Web site is www.whorepresents.com

2 . Experts Exchange is a knowledge base where programmers can exchange advice and views at www.expertsexchange.com - This website is empty now. I tried connecting to no avail.

3. Looking for a pen? Look no further than Pen Island at www.penisland.net

4. Need a therapist? Try Therapist Finder at www.therapistfinder.com

5. There's the Italian Power Generator company, www.powergenitalia.com - This website was under construction when this posting was created.

6. And don't forget the Mole Station Native Nursery in New South Wales , www.molestationnursery.com

7. If you're looking for IP computer software, there's always www.ipanywhere.com

8. The First Cumming Methodist Church Web site is www.cummingfirst.com

9. And the designers at Speed of Art await you at their wacky Web site, www.speedofart.com

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Since I am in the state of 'rojak-ness', allow me tell you about this incident :

Tom was part of my tour group. Both of us were busy taking photos of a famous tourist spot when I suggested that he should have at least one picture taken of himself to remind him of his visit. I offered to take it for him since he was alone. He accepted. After I had taken his photo, I decided to ask if Tom could return the favour. I said to him "Since I did yours, would you mind doing me?"

*sigh*... I really should think before I speak.

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And I just received this in my email from Comedy Central
(updated on Friday, 1st June, at 9:34pm Malaysian time)

The Perfect Husband

Several men are in the locker room of a golf club. A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands-free speaker- function and begins to talk. Everyone else in the room stops to listen.

MAN: "Hello"

WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?"

MAN: "Yes."

WOMAN: "I'm at the mall now and found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK if I buy it?"

MAN: "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much."

WOMAN: "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the new 2007 models. I saw one I really liked."

MAN: "How much?"

WOMAN: "$65,000."

MAN: "OK, but for that price I want it with all the options."

WOMAN: "Great! Oh, and one more thing. The house we wanted last year is back on the market. They're asking $950,000."

MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer, but just offer $900,000."

WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later! I love you!"

MAN: "Bye, I love you, too."

The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are looking at him in astonishment.

Then he smiles and asks: "Anyone know whose phone this is?"

Mamma Mia! I love Roma

After an exciting and overwhelming three-day visit to Rome and The Vatican, I have returned home with a creak in my neck. The only times I can remember not having to look up is when I had to consume my meals, cross the street or check out some good-looking dude. The rest of the time, I had to keep my head tilted upwards to enjoy the beautiful sculptures and paintings. To me, everything was just majestic. Oh! Those stunning ceilings. Our "bocor land" government could learn a thing or two about ceiling maintenance from these guys.

I went to Rome with my church group and stayed in a hotel close to Vatican City. While in Rome, our group of 24 people decided to split into a few teams. Since some of them have been to Rome before, they had the option to join a team to explore places they have not visited.

It was a thrill for me to take in the sights of Rome at night. If I were alone, I would not have done it. However, it was an opportunity for me since we had two guys in the team who led the way. While they were excellent 'bodyguards', their sense of direction was questionable. After dinner, the six of us decided to walk back to the hotel using a city map as a guide. Some of us began to grow tired and weary after 30 minutes. Neither our hotel nor a familiar street were in sight. The two older ladies in the group kept asking the guys how much longer we had to walk. To assure us, the younger of the two guys said that we only had 700 meters more to go. I tell you, that was the longest 700 meters of my life! We got back to the hotel safely - two hours later.

Despite our tiredness from the "700-meter" walk, we were ready to go out early the next day. We spent many hours on our feet at the Vatican museum, Sistine Chapel, Catacombs of Priscilla and St Paul's Church outside the Wall. We got back in time for dinner. This time we made sure our chartered bus waited for us at a designated spot to take us back to the hotel. No more evening walks.

On Sunday a small team of us attended morning Mass at a quaint old church. After Mass, a friend, her daughter and I broke away from the group to make our way to the Pantheon. Later, I went off in search of the Trevi Fountain, while my friend took her daughter to a 3D history show of Rome. With a city map as my guide, I found my way to the fountain.

It was definitely a popular spot. Many people were just hanging around the area. I did not see signs of people walking away. It just got more crowded by the minute. Some were posing for cameras while others were throwing coins in the fountain. The Trevi Fountain is definitely a magnificent piece of work - simply breathtaking. I managed to get my photo taken at the fountain with the help of an Italian lady. Before I left the place, I had to do one last thing - toss a coin into the fountain. A traditional legend holds that throwing a coin into the fountain ensures a return to Rome. Lady Patsy sent me a text message later that evening reminding me to throw three coins. Too late! I couldn't possibly make my way back to the fountain once I was on the other side of the city. Anyway, I was a little curious as to why she mentioned three coins instead of one. So, upon my return to Germany, I looked it up.

According to Wikipedia, the "three coins" of Three Coins in the Fountain were thrown by three different individuals. A reported current interpretation is that two coins will ensure a marriage will occur soon, while three coins leads to a divorce. A reported current version of this legend is that it is lucky to throw three coins with one's right hand over one's left shoulder into the Trevi Fountain. hmmm.... I do believe Lady Patsy was going with the latter.

Anyway, after I had my fill of Fontana di Trevi, I decided to look for some souvenirs. I found a shop that offered a variety. There was a large array of statues, tapestries, fridge magnets, key chains and decorative plates. As I walked in the shop, I heard a familiar language. Lo and behold, another Malaysian shopping for souvenirs. It was a lady with her three children. I greeted her and asked if she was from Malaysia. I had to because the last time I overheard a couple talking to each other, I assumed they were Malaysians. I found later that they were from Singapore. The lady confirmed it and said that she has been living in Italy with her family for the past two years and will be returning to Malaysia in a few weeks. We talked a bit about our locations in Europe while she chose some fridge magnets for her daughters. During our short chat, we found out that we grew up in neighbouring residential areas in Klang. When she left the shop with her purchases, I began to look for my souvenirs.

After 45 minutes, I departed from the shop several Euros poorer but thoroughly satisfied with my finds. I headed on to the pre-determined location to meet with my friend and her daughter. We took a bus to The Vatican to visit St. Peter's Basilica.

While we were there, we also viewed the tombs of the past popes below the Basilica. The beginning part felt like as though we were in a museum. Popes of centuries ago was not significant to me. It did not feel like a burial ground until the names of popes began to look familiar. Suddenly, there was a strong sense of solemnity and sadness upon seeing Pope John Paul II's tomb. Many people were kneeling around and praying. Some had tears in their eyes. It was especially moving to see a young girl, about 9 years old, with tears streaming down her face. When she could not hold back her sobs any longer, she got up and went to her father standing behind her. She hugged him and continued crying while he consoled her with tears in his eyes. After saying a short prayer for the late Pope, we moved on to the other tombs and exited the place. It was an overwhelming experience for me yet one so befitting to end my pilgrimage to The Vatican.

Men ... They Fascinate Me!

I love to talk about men. Well, not all the time but they have been my favourite subject since I discovered God's other mysterious creation. Lady Patsy and I have endless discussions about men; especially when something about them comes up (no pun intended) in our lives.

My special teenhood girlfriend and a lifetime pal, Anne and I spent many hours trying to figure out men. We could never come to a conclusion about them. We still discuss about men today.

Ah men! They just fascinate me. Cool ones, quiet ones, mysterious ones. Oh! then there are sizzling hot ones, mischievous ones, charming ones... and the list goes on. I grew up with older brothers so their friends were mine too. I interacted with them easily. I could never complain that there were not enough boys to admire. They were everywhere!

I am no expert in the subject of men. While they fascinate me, they also confuse me. I have learned about them through my trials and errors. I read up about them in magazines and books.

Recently, at Lady Patsy's Chambers, I shared tips (which I borrowed from Cosmopolitan magazine) on How To Put Smile On His Face (titled Chambers Refurbished, Men Smiling) . I've also borrowed U.Lee's joke about the simplicity of men. Apparently, it does not take much to impress a man. You think?

How about this? Do we think Men Really Are Cavemen Still? Lady Patsy sweared when she published that posting, she did not mean to bash men. I don't believe she dislikes men. The way she speaks of her first love in her latest posting is evident enough. He was so special that she never found another one like him. John was her kind of man.

I will be away for a couple of days but that does not mean my mind will not be here. Blogging and blog-hopping is like coffee to me now - a daily fix needed in the mornings and nights. I must not forget to bring a journal with me so I can jot down my thoughts for future postings. I have an excuse to use one I purchased recently.

Anyway, this posting is in honour of all the men who have been gems in every way. You deserve to be heard. This one's for you...

Note to Tony (SUP): Remember the song, Stand By Your Man? ;)

IT'S TOUGH TO BE A MAN

Do you know how tough it is being a man...?

If you put a woman on a pedestal and try to protect her from the rat race, you're a male chauvinist. If you stay home and do the housework, you're a pansy.

If you work too hard there is never any time for her. If you don't work enough, you're a good-for-nothing bum.

If she has a boring repetitive job with low pay, this is exploitation. If you have a boring repetitive job with low pay, you should get off your ass and find something better.

If you get a promotion ahead of her, that is favouritism. If she gets a job ahead of you, it's equal opportunity.

If you mention how nice she looks, it's sexual harassment. If you keep quiet, it's male indifference.

If you cry, you're a wimp. If you don't, you're an insensitive idiot.

If you make a decision without consulting her, you're a chauvinist. If she makes a decision without consulting you, she's a liberated woman.

If you ask her to do something she doesn't enjoy, that's domination. If she asks you, it's a favour.

If you appreciate the female form and frilly underwear, you're pervert. If you don't, you're gay.

If you like a woman to shave her legs and keep in shape, you're sexist. If you don't, you're unromantic.

If you try to keep yourself in shape, you're vain. If you don't, you're a slob.

If you buy her flowers, you're after something. If you don't, you're not thoughtful.

If you're proud of your achievements, you're full of yourself. If you don't, you're not ambitious.

If she has a headache, she's tired. If you have a headache, you don't love her anymore.

If you want it too often, you're oversexed. If you don't, there must be someone else.

NO WONDER MEN DIE BEFORE WOMEN! ........ THEY WANT TO!!

Come on baby, layer me!

The gorgeous Ruby Ahmad (a.k.a. Ruby Diamonds) revealed her 'inner secrets' in a previous posting titled, The Layered Me. She did not tag anyone but left it open for any brave blogger to play the game. I do enjoy a challenge or two and this game seemed like a fun thing to do on a lazy afternoon. So, I volunteered. Here we go...

Layer One: On the Outside

Name: Okelani Lanikai What's your Hawaiian Name?
Birthdate: If you must know, it is four days before cupid's busiest day of the year.
Current status: Happy-Go-Lucky. Staying happy, getting lucky
Eye color: As brown as you want it to be.
Hair Color: Dark brown today, golden brown tomorrow; As long as I cover my grays, I have no sorrow
Righty or Lefty: Mighty Righty

Layer Two: On the Inside

My heritage: Rojak with a bit of madu and chili
My fears: Not telling because it will be used against me
My Weaknesses: Not telling because it will be used against me
My perfect pizza: Focaccia crust with a generous serving of mushrooms.

Layer Three: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

My thoughts first thing when I wake up: Coffee!!
My bedtime: When my eyes cannot stay open anymore.
My most missed memory: Days of old when mum and dad were still alive

Layer Four: My picks

Pepsi or Coke: Need the real thing, baby!
McDonald's or Burger King: Neither one. Not much of a fast food fan. I will eat only when there is a craving for it usually about once or twice a month.
Single or Group Dates: Depends who I am with.
Adidas or Nike: Nike
Tea or Nestea: Green tea, black tea, flavoured tea, all teas (leave the milk out.. blecch!)
Chocolate or Vanilla: Dark Chocolate only
Cappuccino or Coffee: Coffee in the morning and night. Cappuccino - anytime of the day, with whipped cream.

Layer Five: Do I

Smoke: No
Curse: Like a sailor when no one hears (no offence to sailor-bloggers out there)
Take a shower: Oh yes... hot showers in Germany, cold showers in Malaysia
Have a crush: Must tell, ah? *ahem*
Think I've Been In love: Yes... with life
Go to school: No. My brain does not want to function when it comes to studying.
Want to get married: The last time I checked, I held the keys to the ball and chain
Believe in myself: Sometimes.
Think I'm a health freak: No. I go to the gym when I feel like it. I eat what I want, when I want - everything in moderation.

Layer Six: In the past month

Drank alcohol: Yesh *hic*
Gone to the mall: Too far from my place to even think about it
Been on stage: Got close to one
Eaten Sushi: No
Dyed your hair: Dark brown today, golden brown tomorrow; As long as I cover my grays, I have no sorrow

Layer Seven: Have I ever

Played a stripping game: *Ahem* - for me to know and for you to never find out
Changed who I am to fit in: I could have but I don't recall now. If I did, it was probably in my teen years.

Layer Eight: Age

I am hoping to be married: What?? Still dealing with the current one. I cannot think about the next one.

Layer Nine: What Was I Doing

1 min ago: Drinking coffee and typing this
1 hour ago: Cursing. My initial draft got wiped out. Re-doing this now. waaa!
4.5 hours ago: Sleeping soundly in bed and dreaming
1 month ago: Volunteered to be tagged by Typhoon Sue of Tattlerama. Posting titled The Year was 1985
1 year ago: Packing up to return to the States

Layer Ten: Finish The Sentence

I love: my life
I feel: my life
I hate: an unkind world
I hide: my deepest feelings
I need: adventure!


Layer Eleven: Tag 5 people

I am not going to impose this on anyone (some people don't enjoy being tagged). So, just like Ruby, I am leaving it open. If you are looking for something to blog about while working on your next posting, this will be a fun filler.

(Oh dear, my comment box was not 'activated' earlier today. Thanks Ruby, for alerting me. I appreciate it very much)

Lessons in Life

"As we grow up, we'll learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.
You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time.
You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.
You'll fight with your best friend.
You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.
You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love.
So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.
Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God."

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"Live simply". Yet it is not so simple. We are caught up in a fast-moving world that we forget how to live sometimes. A lesson I have yet to learn. However, the most valuable lesson I have gained in life is summed up below. Each time I read it, I am reminded of how people affect me and how I affect them in return.

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People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person. When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are.

They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

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I am now able to identify those who have been in my life for a reason. They were there for a purpose - to help heal my broken heart, to understand why things happen in life, to inspire me. Before I understood this part of life, I used to wonder what did I do to make them stay away. What did I say? I learned that I should not read too much into why they left. I now appreciate that maybe they were there for a reason. They have helped me move on.

I have also been a reason in other people's lives. I have lost contact with them. I still think of them. I have not made an effort to reconnect with them, though. They have slipped through my fingers. I was there for a reason.

I have had many friends for a season. Among them were two best friends when I was growing up. One in primary school and the other during my teenage years. I am no longer in contact with them. They were there for a season and a reason. I could say the same thing about the men who came into my life. Some brought me joy, some heartaches. Still, lessons learned. When it comes to men, I learned that if I become too clingy, they run a million miles away! When I play hard-to-get, they leave eventually. The lesson - find a balance where they have a chance, yet not make it too easy.

As I was writing this posting, I recalled something that happened to me a few weeks back. I was feeling a little down that day. I was relieved to catch a friend on line. I thought maybe with a little chit-chat I will feel better. However, due to unavoidable circumstances, my friend had to leave. I was upset because I needed to talk to someone. I was disappointed too because I expected that friend to cheer me up. I forgot an old lesson I learned. A friend can help unload my burdens but I should not expect him/her to be responsible for my happiness. Happiness comes from within.

I always have a wish that my new friends remain with me forever. However, if they come into my life for just a season and/or a reason, I will accept it. They were God-sent for a purpose.

My lifetime relationships are with the ones who have been and are constantly in touch with me. The ones whom I love unconditionally. The ones whose needs I put before mine. I know they are there for a lifetime because we made a pact - an unspoken commitment. A bond that has been built on a solid emotional foundation. The lessons we learned from each other have made who I am today.

My Firsts - The Teenage Years

We left Kota Bharu, Kelantan in December 1979, at the end of my primary school years. My eldest brother was 14, second brother 13, and my sister, 7. We lived in Klang while dad commuted daily to his office at Bukit Aman, K.L. Mum remained a full-time mother and housewife.

Coming out to the west coast was exciting for me. Although I was missing my friends back in Kota Bharu, I was delighted with the prospect of making new friends. My brothers began their education in La Salle School, Klang while my sister and I were placed in Convent School, Klang. With this new environment, we found our new life.

The first time I received a gift from a guy - I was 13 years old. The guy was my brother's classmate and best friend, Adrian. He bought me a bow-shaped brooch and passed it to me through my brother, Derek. I was excited and surprised that Adrian remembered my birthday. I was supposed to thank Adrian for the gift but I was too shy. When Derek got him on the phone that evening, I was forced to speak to Adrian. Nervous and tongue-tied, I managed to say "Thanks for my lovely brooch." He replied "Oh, it's my pleasure. I'm glad you like it. How was your day?" I thought, "Oh my God, he wants to talk some more." I quickly ended the conversation by saying, "Oh, it was fun. Here's Derek. Thanks for the gift again. Bye." I promptly handed the phone back to brother dearest. By the way, that was also the first time I spoke to a guy on the phone.

The first time I sewed something - I was in Home Science class and had two projects to complete. One was an apron and the other a baby's dress. I still have the apron but my teacher, aptly known as Tiger Lim, took my baby dress for an exhibition and never returned it to me.

The first time I cooked something edible - I was eager to try out a recipe from Home Science class. With my aunty's help, I successfully made onde onde. That was the last time too. It was easier to buy it at the makcik's stall down the street from my house.

The first time I had a teen party at home - My parents decided to celebrate my 14th and Derek's 15th birthday together. My brother invited some of his friends from school, as I did mine. It was rather awkward for me. That was the first time we hosted a party where guys and girls could mingle together. I don't remember dancing at that party. However, I do recall two guys who were trying to get a pretty girl's attention. All three of them were in Form 4. Within a month, I heard she chose one and started dating him. They are married today with 3 children.

The first time I played the piano - I started piano lessons at 14 but did not have a piano until two months after my first lesson. While my sister and I waited for dad to buy us a piano, we kept practising on an 'invisible keyboard'. I remember being very excited when the piano finally arrived. I could finally play on real keys!

The first time I sat for music exams - It was a year later. I had finished four theory grades within 12 months. My teacher was toying with the idea of sending me for the Grade 5 level. She said that she would only do it if I am willing to cramp in a little more work in the next two months. I was game for it and registered myself for the Grade 5 Level. I passed, much to everyone's delight and shock. Oh! Thanks a lot! After that exam was over, the teacher said, "if only I could push you beyond Grade 1 for your practical." I smiled back giving her the "yeah, right!" look. She knew I was a lost cause in that department. I took my practical exams, one grade at a time, annually.

The first time I had a crush on a sportsman - He was a German hockey player, Carsten Fischer, taking part in the Junior World Cup Hockey tournament in Malaysia in 1982. Two of my classmates were equally smitten by other hockey players in the same team and we talked about our sportsmen every day until we grew tired of them.

The first time I danced with a teenage guy - It was during a Christmas Dinner & Dance at our church. I was in at my table talking to a friend when my brother's classmate (I have forgotten his name) asked me for a dance. Then song - Three Times a Lady by Lionel Richie. I was so nervous, I kept stepping on his feet! Every now and then I kept saying, "oops, sorry". I remember how awkwardly I was holding him. I was glad when the song was over. phew!

The first time I lost my identity - No, I did not lose my identity card. I lost my identity as 'Jacqui'. My brother, Derek, was gaining popularity among the senior prefects in my school. This was possible because they met Derek at a function hosted by the La Salle Prefectorial Board. One day, as I walked past a group of giggly prefects, one of them asked me, "Are you Derek's sister?" I confirmed their enquiry. Then, two of them said in unison, "Oh, your brother is so cute!" sigh..
I smiled and said, "If you say so." They never bothered to find out my name. I was known, among the prefects, as 'Derek's sister'.

The first time a guy took interest in me - I was in Form 5. The year was 1984. I took part in a fashion show organised by the church for a fund-raising function. I disliked it but was forced to participate. I felt awkward and stiff. I had to borrow a dress from my, then, best friend because I did not own something fashionable enough. It was a strappy and tight little number in leopard print Oh my God! - so not me at all!. I had to prance about stage to the song of 'Uptown Girl' by Billy Joel. I was glad when that was over. I made my way to the back of the hall. A nice-looking guy approached me. He was Daniel. We have smiled at each other many times before but we were never introduced. He complimented me on my outfit. hmmm After that introduction and a short conversation, phone numbers were exchanged. He called me at very safe times - when dad was not at home. Mum knew but kept warning me not to be on the phone too long. Daniel and I never went out anywhere together, no matter how many times he tried to convince me to 'steal away'. My parents would never have allowed it and I did nowt want to risk being caught. I told him that once I start working in January, there will be a chance to meet. I kept hoping that he would wait.

The first time my heart was broken - Daniel started dating my, then, best friend. She told me about their first date... in detail. That was January 1985. sigh..

The first time I entered the working world - It was a part time job in a legal firm while I waited for my SPM results. My pay was only RM250 a month. That wasn't too bad for an 18-year old with no work experience. I worked near The Star (newspaper) office. The bus station was around the corner. Every now and then I had to endure wolf whistles from workers down the street where construction work was going on. It bothered me a little in the beginning but I learned to ignore them over time. I figured they would get tired of seeing the same old me after a while. I did not see a point in telling my parents about it. They were informed, nevertheless. Apparently a Star reporter (whom my father knew personally) was too enthusiastic about his job. He decided to give my dad updates. I guess he was genuinely concerned.

The first time I drove a car - I was 19 and started driving lessons. I was so afraid to take the car out to the Klang-Port Klang road. When it was time to learn to drive on the main road, I told the instructor that I was afraid and preferred the back streets. He said, "Where can? sooner or later you have to start taking the main road. Your whole life you going to take back roads ah? How want to go K.L. then?" I said, "Take bus la."
I did pass my driving test that year. Eventually, I picked up the courage to drive to K.L. - four years later, during Chinese New Year week.

I landed my first full time job at 21 years old. I started working in K.L. and remained there until 1999, when I got married and left the country.

There were many firsts in my 20s, which I will reveal as time goes by. However, the precious ones like my first kiss, first love relationship, first rebound relationship (and thankfully only one) will remain with me. When I miss home or feel down, I recall some of the sweet times I've experienced as a young adult. Some moments which made me feel special and some which thought me valuable lessons. These are the memories which makes me smile in my quiet reminiscence. These belong to me.

My Firsts - Childhood Years

There are many firsts in my life that I am not able to tell you - my first crawl, first tooth, first steps. Those memories belonged to my mum. Of course, I am unable to tell you when I first spoke too. However, you can be sure that once I started, I never stopped. My mum said I had too many questions or I told her too many tales. My earliest recollections are vague.

The first time I was aware I had a birthday party - A flash memory of someone walking into our house with this lovely cake decorated like a basket of flowers. Then, this person said to me "Hello birthday girl. Isn't this a pretty cake?" That is all I can remember. When I related this flashback to my mum a few years ago, she was surprised that my memory went back that far. She said that was the prettiest birthday cake I ever had as a child. It was my third birthday. We were living in Canning Gardens, Ipoh.

The first time I was aware I had siblings - I was almost four years old. A very brief flashback of this memory places me in a bathroom scene. My aunt was giving my two brothers and I a bath. We were splashing around and getting her clothes wet. We had just moved to Kelantan. I do not have memories of the journey from Ipoh to Kota Bharu. Neither, can I recall when we moved into our house in Jalan Bayam. I was told later that we were living in a hotel near Jalan Bayam in Kota Bharu, Kelantan. That was in the year 1970.

The first time I knew there was going to be an addition to the family - I was four and a half . I don't remember my mum being pregnant with my sister. I only recall the day she was leaving for the hospital. Dad was walking mum to the car. He told me "you will soon have a brother or a sister." I replied, "I don't want a brother or a sister. I want a puppy."

The first time I was aware I had grandparents - I was probably nearing five years old. My siblings and I addressed our grandparents as Papa and Mama. We had two sets of grandparents. To avoid confusion, we referred to them as Taiping Papa and Mama for my dad's parents; and Malacca Papa and Mama for my mum's parents.

The first time I appreciated a song from the radio - We were in Taiping visiting my dad's parents. I recall sitting by a huge radio and listening to the song "Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep" (click on the button on the sidebar to listen to the song). I was so captivated by the song that I refused to leave the house that instant to accompany my aunty to the sundry shop. I asked her if we could wait till the song finished. I was six then.

The first time I was aware of death - It was a few days after I fell in love with music. Our holiday came to an end. We were heading towards Malacca to spend the remainder of our holiday with my mum's parents. I clearly remember Taiping Papa giving out a strange vibe as I hugged him goodbye. Before walking off, I turned around to look at him again. I found Papa staring at me and he eyes were moist. I asked, "Why Papa?" He did not say anything. He kept staring. We took off waving at him. As soon as we reached my grandparent's house in Malacca, Mama came rushing out with a telegramme in her hands. Dad's father had passed away a few hours after we left Taiping. My brothers and I stayed back in Malacca. My parents went back to Taiping immediately bringing my 15-month old sister with them. That evening I asked Malacca Mama, "what is passed away?" She told me that "Taiping Papa won't be around anymore. He has gone to heaven."

The first time I remember going to school - I was 6 years old and in Mrs. Estrop's class at Fatima Convent, Jalan Kuala Krai, K.B. I recall taking part in two performances for the school concert. The first was singing in a choir. Later, I had to change to a red maxi dress for a dance number. There were four 'little couples' on stage. This leads to..

First time dancing with a boy - I don't remember the title of the song we danced to but the lyrics had some "aiyaya" and some "suku suku" in it. I googled those words and found this - aiyaya karoon main kya; suku suku ho gaya dil. Could this be the song? I found out that this song was from a Hindi movie titled Junglee, produced in 1962.

The first time I learned about the birds and the bees - I was 10 years old. I have no recollection of the teacher's name, though. She walked into class one day and told us that she will not be teaching History. Instead, she will be teaching us the facts of life. It was a very informative session, laced with lots of giggles.

The first time I felt like a failure - I was 11 years old. I had just received my mid-term exam results. My average percentage score was 90%. Yet, I was second last in a class of 48! I was disappointed with myself. Then, I envisioned the hell I was going to get from dad when I got home. When I showed him my report card, he looked at it for a while then smiled. He reached for his wallet and gave me RM1.00 (very big reward in those days). I was surprised and asked him "why?". He said "I told you that if you can bring back perfect scores, I will give you RM1 for every one of them. You had 100 for English." Shaking his head in amazement, he asked "Who was the first girl in class and what was her average percentage?" I told him it was Mazura and she scored 99.9%. Then he commented, "Thank goodness this is not a final term exam or you would have been demoted to 6B. However, if you were in 6B, you will be number one there." I believe Dad tried to console me, seeing that I looked very sad with my 47th position in class. Then he said, "No, forget I what I said. I'd rather you be number 47 in the A class for this term than number 1 in the B class next year."

The first time I had a crush on a man! - oh... my sweet Cikgu Anuar. He was a handsome man who inspired me to do so well during a school term in 1979. He was a 21-year-old trainee teacher from Maktab Perguruan K.B. He taught my class B.M. and History. Cikgu Anuar was fond of pop quizzes and I was always eager to answer his questions. Did I mention he was a good-looking man?
Zainab School had monthly exams and term exams. The school's monthly exam report card had a graph page to show the student's progress. It was interesting to see the graph showing a prominent improvement. woo hoo! My dad was pleased, if not surprised, at the sudden change. I did not tell him why; just that the new trainee teacher was good. Did I mention that Cikgu Anuar was cute? :)



to be continued.....

Definitions from Parents

In continuation of my tribute to all mothers everywhere, here's something for you:

FEEDBACK: The inevitable result when a baby doesn't appreciate the mashed carrots.

HEARSAY: What toddlers do when anyone mutters a dirty word.

PRENATAL: When your life was still somewhat your own.

PUDDLE: A small body of water that draws other small bodies wearing dry shoes.

STERILIZE: What you do to your first baby's pacifier by boiling it and to your last baby's pacifier by blowing on it.

TOP BUNK: Where you should never put a child wearing Superman pajamas.

WHOOPS: An exclamation that translates roughly into "get a washrag."

Happy Mother's Day

(Christie Sta. Maria-Tegjeu; 2nd September 1934-13th February 2006)

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

(Wanda Barker; 13th April 1933 - 22nd September 2003)

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers,

wherever you may be....

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A Mother's Love Determines How

A mother's love determines how

We love ourselves and others.

There is no sky we'll ever see

Not lit by that first love.

Stripped of love, the universe

Would drive us mad with pain;

But we are born into a world

That greets our cries with joy.

How much I owe you for the kiss

That told me who I was!

The greatest gift--a love of life--

Lay laughing in your eyes.

Because of you my world still has

The soft grace of your smile;

And every wind of fortune bears

The scent of your caress

- Turlough O'Carolan

(Song played for this entry: You Raise Me Up by Josh Groban)

Me, Myself and I

I was playing around with BlogThings again. I came across an interesting question. What animal were you in your past life? Ok, just entered my birthdate...processing.. and ..... voila....

YOU WERE A SKUNK

You carry yourself with sensuality and a flowing energy.
You have a great reputation, and you follow your own (good) advice.
Find out What Animal Were You In Your Past Life?

Oh! Thanks a lot! I don't think I want to be associated with a skunk. Those little 'stinkos'. Then again, maybe I was. I did behave like a stinkin’ lil’ girl before. When I did not want people to get close to me, I put up my defences.

I referred to Wikipedia for some information on this animal. These points struck me:

1. Skunks are reluctant to use their smelly weapon. See! I am like that. I don't like to use anything against anyone if I can help it. I am a people-person.

2. Interestingly, skunks will not spray other skunks (with the exception of males in the mating season). Why does that sound familiar? How many guys have I 'sprayed' in my past? I do believe they include the "gatal" ones, the drunk ones who became "gatal", "Mr Macho", and the drunk ones who assumed they're "Mr Macho". I did give the good guys a chance. Please don't say I didn't.... but some just rubbed me the wrong way (no pun intended!)

Following up on point number 1, I decided to check on my Interpersonal Intelligence rate.

Your Interpersonal Intelligence Score: 75%

Your Interpersonal Intelligence is High
You are definitely a "people person." You enjoy spending time with others.You instinctively understand people, and you are both a good counsellor and mediator.However, there are definitely times when you've had enough. And that's when you cherish being alone.

How Does Your Interpersonal Intelligence Rate?

Well, that's enough of shameless advertising.

I dipped into my jar of ideas today and picked out "10 Things That Bore Me To Tears" - contributed by K.C. recently. I could not think of 10 things immediately. I had to get my mind stimulated first. Hence, Blogthings above.

When I thought about it, the 10 things that bore me to tears almost always leads to irritation. So, here's my list:

1. Waiting to see a doctor at Hospital Besar Anywhere in Malaysia. As if, this waiting is not painful enough…

2. Waiting to collect medicine at the pharmacy at Hospital Besar Anywhere.

3. Listening to sermons in church that don't make sense to me. Dear Padre, with all due respect, I don't really give a hoot what the next person thinks about the sermon. If I cannot find a message in that sermon, you have lost me.

4. Listening to men talk about their conquests of women. OK! I get it. You are Mr. Macho, women desire you. How about contributing a story where you save a woman's honour instead of taking it? :)

5. Waiting in line at the security check point at airports. Somehow the passenger in front of me always has hundreds of metallic things to remove from his pockets, a laptop that needs to be checked physically, a carry-on luggage that is scanned at least three times because authorities cannot figure out what it is they see on the screen, shoes that need to be removed (read: toe jam), belt that is oh-so-carefully holding up his pants. Oh dear! now I see a butt crack.

6. Soap operas that love to feature one woman sleeping with all the men in one particular family over a span of 20 years. Madam, there are other men in this world, you know.

7. Long speeches. Why? Why is there are need to talk that long? Why do speeches have to last more than 5 minutes? You are not giving the nation's budget speech.

8. Politicians. “Politicians are like diapers. They need to be changed often and for the same reason.”

9. Waiting for brides to arrive at church on time. (Unfortunately, this one requires an open letter for the bride-to-be. Please see below).

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Dear Bride-To-Be

Your special day is coming up. You have dreamed about this for years. You will be a princess… but only for a day. Don’t get too excited. This doesn't always last a lifetime. Soon you will learn that the princess also has to be the cook, the cleaner and the eternal bed warmer.

You are going to have people fuss over you. It is likely you will forget about the others who are not sitting in an air-conditioned room waiting for you. Please be considerate and make it to the church on time.

Please try not to be fashionably late. People usually will pardon a 10 minute delay. Anything longer than that and you will find people wishing other things on you as you walk down the aisle. If you live 30 minutes away from the church and your wedding mass or service is at 4:00pm; for heaven’s sake do a little mathematics and taking into consideration traffic conditions. Leave the house early. Don't worry about some people keeping to Malaysian time and you wishing to go along with their habits. If they are late, their problem.

By the way, have you considered your husband-to-be? He may wonder if you have changed your mind. Don’t simply make him wait. Be considerate.

While we are this, I might as well throw in another piece of advice. For God’s sake, do not dress your bridesmaid like Little Bo Peep. She is not going to church to herd sheep. Let her be as elegant as you will be. There is no competition. You are the bride and she’s the bridesmaid.

I know you want to be the centre of attention. You will be, don’t worry. There are many eyes and not all of them can keep looking at you all the time. Staring at white too much may result in Malaysia’s first case of snow blindness.

Also, men know you are taken. The only thing they can do is kiss you on the cheek, hug you and maybe have a dance with you at your reception. That is all. Do take note that they are saving up their horny energy for the ones who are available.

I wish you all the best and don’t be late to church, ok?

Love
Aunty Kodok

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10. Aunties giving unsolicited advice . Oops!

Memories of Melaka - Mama & Papa

Melaka, my mum's hometown. A place that holds an ocean of memories. Joy and laughter, sadness and tears. The happiest years of my life were days spent with my grandparents, particularly my grandmother.

My grandmother, affectionately known as Mama, was strict but she also spoiled us. Due to the fact that my parents lived the farthest away from Melaka, we were always missing from family gatherings. When we did make a trip there, Mama always went out of her way to make our stay enjoyable. She cooked up a storm in the kitchen everyday - devil curry, beef smore, vindaloo, curry kapitan, sambal fish dishes. Every tea time, we had an array cakes - all the different 'pulut-pulut' - ordered from an effeminate man in the Portuguese Settlement .

My grandfather, we called him Papa, was a quiet man. He always rewarded us with chocolates. However, chocolates were not given at any time of the day. It was only after meals. My cousins and I knew where he kept his stash but we did not dare touch it. Chocolates were always stored on the top shelf of his glass cabinet. I think he refused to oil that glass door so that the creaking sound will give away the culprit who was trying to get his chocolates.

Papa was a fly-killer. He did not use aerosol sprays. Papa did it with his lidi broom. After his meals, Papa would always make his way to the porch to sit on his favourite easy-chair. Sitting there, he watched the world go by. That lidi broom was his constant companion. A deadly weapon, I'll tell you - to the flies and me. He scared the living daylights out of me whenever it came down hard on the ground. Once, I sat by the garden drain, near him, working into an ice ball dripping with syrup. Papa waited for the fly to settle near him. Then .... "whack!". It was so loud that my heart skipped a beat.

Mama had her routine everyday as long as Papa was alive. He always kept to a strict schedule - not a minute earlier, not a minute later. After Papa passed away in 1981, Mama relaxed considerably.

Mama always made sure we prayed. Praying the rosary (repetitive prayers on beads) was essential. During school holidays, Mama took joy in making all her grandchildren sit around in the living room and join her in prayer. Now, praying with her took a lot of effort. Half the time we would end up laughing. I remember one particular day when we simply could not concentrate on praying because the interruptions came from Mama. We were halfway through our fourth decade of the rosary....

Mama: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee... eh Victor, turn off the stove. I can hear the whistle going.... blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Cousins: Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Mama: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou..... Treasa, that water to make tea. Can pour? ... Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Cousins: Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour...... (voices fading off)
While we were praying, Mama was talking to Auntie Treasa about putting out the cakes for tea time.

Mama: Hey! why you stop? Want to listen to grown up talking? Kay poh! Continue!

Cousins: Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the our of our death. Amen

Just then, cousin Stephen made a comical face.

Mama: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee..... stop it boy! .... blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

We burst out laughing. We struggled to suppress our laughter. Seeing how stern Mama was beginning to look, we managed to tone it down to giggles. Mama had to finish the rest of the fourth and fifth decade. We were glad when it was over. Tea time!

There were times when prayers were discontinued. Rain would always disrupt our "holy quarter hour". Maybe one of my cousins secretly prayed for rain. Mama would frantically run out to get the clothes off the line and we would follow suit - running behind her. No matter how careful I was, underclothings always find their way to the ground. With an armful of clothes, I could never use my hands to prevent them from falling down. I had no choice but to use my chin. After which, I would fuss about other people's "under things" being near my face.

Folding the laundry was also a fun activity. Figuring out what garment belonged to whom was challenging, especially when Mama had another relative staying over. One particular scene comes to mind...

"Mama, whose this?" asked Joanne, laughing while holding up a pair of granny panties.

"Ah, that one Auntie Tissy's. What? You think mine?"

"My! So big like flag!"

"Eh, don't be rude. Your bum like kuchi rat. Clever to make fun."

Another thing that reminds me about Mama and Papa is the way they safeguarded Papa's crate of Coke. That was his daily fix after his shower. No one else could touch it. He would pour himself a small glass of Coke and save the other half bottle for the next day. Then he goes to his chair on the porch or walks around the garden. That is the time when neighbours would come home from work. Everyone in that neighbourhood who drove or walked past the house, waved at him. He always acknowledged them - waving back with one hand and holding the almighty lidi broom in the other.

When we there on holidays, we always craved for a little Coke. We did not have the luxury of drinking it at home. We would beg Mama for a little, even a sip. One evening, my siblings and I got our way. Papa said we could have some. Mama brought out shot glasses. Every sip of that small shot of Coke was heavenly. My three seconds of heaven!

Mama had a strange habit of pouring hot beverages into our cups long before we were ready to drink it, be it coffee or tea. Everyone would have the standard concoction - coffee with condensed milk; or tea with condensed milk. When I got to mine, it was always cold. Just horrible. In fact, it was a little traumatic for my taste buds. Today, I drink plain tea - hot or icy, it doesn't matter. Just no milk in that, thank you. My coffee - sugar and creamer served piping hot - always, no exceptions. Thanks Mama!

War Is Not A Fair Game

As of Wednesday, 2nd May, The Associated Press reported at least 3,354 members of the U.S. military have died in Iraq since March 2003. The British have lost 147, Italy, 33; Ukraine, 18; Poland, 20, Bulgaria, 13; Spain, 11; Denmark, 6, El Salvador, 5; Slovakia, 4; Latvia, 3; Estonia, Netherlands, Thailand - 2 each; Australia, Hungary, Kazakhstan, Romania - 1 each. *the AP count is one higher than the Defense Department's tally, last updated 10am (Wednesday)

Let's put politics aside and the decisions of the powers-that-be. Let's forget about who is wrong or right, for now. Let's not focus on why conflicts happen. I am not here to debate about foreign policies, to slam or ridicule any government. Let's see it from another point of view. Let's view these soldiers as your brothers and sisters; regardless or race, creed or colour. Everyone of those men is somebody's son, father and/or husband. Every woman, a daughter, mother and/or wife. Some of them did not choose to fight the current wars. It is their job. Some of them are there because they are making a living so that they can feed their families. Let's not hate the player, people. Let's hate the game.

Blaise Pascal:
"Can anything be stupider than that a man has the right to kill me because he lives on the other side of a river and his ruler has a quarrel with mine, though I have not quarrelled with him?"

War has been happening for countless of centuries. Each century claims new conflicts. If only there could be one day of peace. Just one day to know that we can live in harmony without trying to kill each other, in words and deeds.

When war takes place, both soldiers and civilians are victims.

My late Uncle Cyril was a prisoner of war in the early 1940s. He left home at 17 to join the (British) Royal Air Force (RAF). My grandparents did not see him until he was about 22 years old. They were informed of his imprisonment in Japan. All they could do was hope, pray and wait for news. Five years is a long time to wait. Too long for a parent or his loved ones - not knowing if he will survive or die.

He survived, albeit in horrendous conditions. When he finally came home to Taiping, Perak, I was told he looked very thin - almost skeletal. All he had on himself were a 'Pagoda' t-shirt and a pair khaki trouser. These garments were supplied by the U.S. Marine Corp when they liberated the POW (Prisoner Of War) camp, about 200 km from Nagasaki. The prisoners in that camp did not see the second atomic bomb go off. As slave labourers, they were underground at that time - mining for coal.

I was 11 years old when I asked Uncle Cyril about the unsightly bump on his forearm. He said that a Japanese soldier had hit him using a rifle butt. The soldier was aiming for the head. Uncle Cyril raised his right arm in time to defend himself and suffered a blow on his forearm. As a POW, he was not given medical aid. That injury developed into a cyst. He carried that cyst all his life. Uncle Cyril passed away in 2003, a few days shy of his 80th birthday.

My neighbour in Klang, the late Uncle Patrick Rajamanickam, was in the same camp with my Uncle Cyril. He too served in the RAF. In camp, they were confined to a barracks assigned to the Asian POWs. When I had a chance to speak to Uncle Patrick about his POW days, he recounted his memories with sadness and pain. Yet, amidst such glooming accounts, I found a sparkle of pride in him. Pride that he survived it all.
He showed me a small deep hole on his upper back, slightly to the right of his spine. He told me that he was tortured with a burning joss stick. He never told me the rest of the story. However, he shared it with my brother, Derek. Apparently, Uncle Patrick was stripped naked and made to kneel in the snow as the Japanese officer tormented him. That torture did not end till the joss stick burned out. Though it looked like a harmless scar by the time I saw it, 50 years later, I will never be able to imagine what he endured as he felt the joss stick sear through his skin and flesh. Uncle Patrick passed away on 14th February 2004.

They suffered. Both Uncles Cyril and Patrick. They shared a certain bond only few would know. They met again, for the last time, in 1999. Uncle Cyril, my godfather, walked me down the aisle on my wedding day. Uncle Patrick was given the honour of saying an opening prayer at my wedding reception. That was the last time I saw both men in the same room.

There were not the only ones who underwent hardships of war. Many families in Malaya (and around the region) suffered under the Japanese occupation.

Many years ago, mum told me that she will never forget the day when three Japanese soldiers stormed into her house and held her mother at gun point. They wanted my grandmother to mend their torn clothing and sew on buttons. My grandmother's hands and legs were shaking as she tried to thread the needle. My mum was an eight year old girl, hanging on to her mummy's skirt, in fear. That was also the day her father was taken away for questioning by the Kempetai (Japanese Secret Police).

My grandfather, Wilfred Sta. Maria, served as a Reserve Officer in the Eurasian Infantry Rifles Company (Straits Settlement Battalion) prior to the war. He was put on alert when the Japanese invaded Malaya.

Her father returned home three days later, in a trishaw. He never spoke about his detention experience. He took that memory to his grave.

Several wars have taken place since World War II. You'd think the human race would have learned about the evils of war by now.

Mankind must put an end to war, or war will put an end to mankind. ~John F. Kennedy, 1961

A great war leaves the country with three armies - an army of cripples, an army of mourners, and an army of thieves. ~German Proverb

War is not a fair game.