Maestros of Romantic Fiction

Our high respect for a well read person is praise enough for literature.
T. S. Eliot

There are many ways literature is defined. We have Shakespeare, Kipling, Elliot..

Then we have Stephen King,Robert Ludlum, David Brown..

And lastly we have Kathleen Woodiwiss, Brenda Joyce and Linda Lyle Miller..I know, i know, surely someone is going 'who is that??' We may not know the names..but i'm sure many of us know the tales.

No matter what you chose to read and what adorns the shelves in your bedroom, the mystery behind Kathleen and friends' writing will always be intriguing to us. I remember the first time I picked up a romance novel. At such a tender age, I was looking for more of an educational book(*ahem*ahem*), and since the most informative channel, the TV, was locked away, i choose to rummage through my mothers book cupboard.


This is what I found: in some land, in some long forgotten time lived a fair headed stubborn maiden. There was some war, a bunch of dudes on horses came to rob and loot the fair maidens castle and the leader of pack decides to kidnap the pretty lass.

Next thing you know, the dude cant take his eyes off the lady and she starts harboring secret feelings for him after he saves her from some snake. Or a bear. Or something. And then there’s a gazillion scenes set in the haystack and then another man(or was it a bear? hmm) decides to kidnap the lady, and Mr Stud has some duel with the evil man-bear and kills him. Mr Stud and Lady kiss and live happily every after..


Sounds like something you have read before?

Maybe it’s the world we live in, news of divorces, break ups and marriages gone wrong so common in our lives that we long for that little bit of happy ending and romance.

But then again, maybe its just the haystack scenes that catch our wonder.

For whatever reasons, these NY Times and US Today best selling novels will somehow always make their way to a lady’s shelf. There could also be a couple of men who wanna be Fabio Lanzoni. Eek!

P.S Thank you Ms JC for sharing with us the wonderment of being pregnant and deciding to visit the haystack! Hahaha, jk!! 

The Tale of Amour and Psyche

Love is an ever amazing feeling.

We could love our parents, our dogs, our cars, our siblings, our face all unconditionally. We think that nothing could be better than what we have..

And yet love, in its most over rated form-the whole reason for  valentine’s day and a naked Cupid- is complicated.

Is it possible for us to love more than one person at a time? And deeper yet, to love someone who has promised their lives (and fidelity) to another human being? An answer I am yet to find after the recent event during a holiday I had

So here I was, driving blissfully to an open house in USJ, dreaming of wonderful lemang and rendang, when my co-pilot starts berating me with complaints on how she is unhappy with her married boyfriend because he spends too much time with his family. Not being one to judge(*cough*cough*) I tried to understand her predicament. She has been with her Mr X for over a year now and lately, he decided he wants to spend more time with his kids. Unfortunate for her, this meant endless lonely nights, swimming alone in the long pool, single microwaved dinners and an huge empty king sized bed (Ok, so I exaggerate!)

But on a serious note, isn’t this kind of expected? Like some kind of pre-nup..i mean pre-affair implied agreement?

Totally unaware of this ‘agreement’, Ms Unhappy decided to add spice to her life. She will start dating her boyfriend’s friend, who is incidentally also married. Mr X warns her off the guy but she decides to turn a deaf ear to the man ‘betraying’ her and decide to go on a diving trip with him to some secluded, romantic island..And here is the spice part where I come in, Ms Unhappy invites me(and a couple of my crazy friends) along! She needs a cover up so Mr X does not know she is having a extra-affair affair with another man. Our presence would be sort of a cover up,so she can tell Mr X that she is going with a circus.

Dun tell me I did not warn you its complicated J

……..Its not life, its HBO……….

Happy Ghost Month!

No one is more afraid of ghosts than those that don't believe in them-Chinese Proverb-

Once a pon a time, a long long time ago, during the time when the Japanese occupied whats today known as Seri Kembangan or Serdang, there used to a hill. The story goes that during the hard times of war and brutality, some of the local villages were captured and taken into captivity on this hill. The Japanese were not interested in keeping the poor villages as hostages and they mercilessly cut their heads off. Now the bodies were never claimed for who would dare to go up into the hills for fear of losing their own heads. So over time, the skeletons of those unjustly murdered became one with the land on which they found their fate.

The ending of the war saw the Japanese returning to their home country.The hill, having seen so much bloodshed, became a home of sorts for snakes. Beautiful ferns and greens grew at the foot of hill, beckoning the villagers to come and pick them. But it was almost impossible to get atop the hill with the Cobras, Vipers, Adders, Boa, living on the trees and grassland of the hill. The hill came to be known to the locals as the Matterhorn Hill. The tallest hill in the region, with the coldest history, as cold as the hill in switzerland, which it was named after.

Time moved on, winds blew over the trees, rain washed over the hill, pushing the long forgotten bones of the dead deeper into its belly. The stories of the deceased became forgotten with the onslaught of modernisation.

Development, mankind's both friend and enemy, ensued a highway to be build over the hill. The slope was flattened with tractors, tar splayed and blackened the swamp of ferns. And not long after, people of the modern world would use the road that ran over the 'grave' of the hill.

As some stories are, they do not wish to be forgotten. It is said that the spirits of those dead and buried  would rise every now and then, standing on the highway to mislead the living.


P.S RIP to Jamuna from HP who passed away on a dry Wednesday on the MEX highway. And for those who told of numerous accident cases on the same stretch..drive safe, and keep to the speed limit!

Passing Days

Isn't it always weird how we say "Where did the time go?" Its like everyone gets this sudden amnesia and cant remember what we did in the last year or the last decade or something.

I definitely know where the last 2 years went for Baby Mickeyface..from learning to focus his small eyes to turning on his tummy. From crawling to running and (very soon) jumping..From eating yucky goobers to yummy chicken rice and 'Kolat'. From forming ghuhryweer (doesnt baby language sound a lil like zombie?) to screaming pua! and Menya! From playing with rattles to playing home-made Wipeout.

Every weekend in the last 2 years have been the happiest and most tiring days for me and Diplodocus. But nothing could make it more worthwhile than hearing Baby Mickeyface calling us his aunts, hearing his laughter and the pitter patter of his little feet around the house. Wish I could say the same thing about cleaning his diapers though..urgh.

So maybe he wont like balls and ballons forever.Maybe he will start drawing on walls and breaking glasses and stuff. But heck, we wouldnt trade in that time for anything in the world.

So heres a big cheers to my beloved nephew who is growing up as fast as a ferrari. And who can run just as fast too..*pant*pant*

Where did the time go.....sigh........

The Little Chinapiece

There was once a colourful little porcelain piece of China. She travelled from the cold country down to the valley in hope of a better life. Sadly Little Chinapiece was fooled by fate, hurt by the bitter cold, blistered by people who could not care less.

Little Chinapiece went from home to home. Each home worse than the one before it.And each time she left that home, Little Chinapiece would grow one more crack on her colourful porcelain.

One day, a Young Master came about. He saw Little Chinapiece sitting quietly at the side of a bustling shop. Young Master decided to buy Little Chinapiece and take her home. He gently carried Little Chinapiece to a new shelf in his home. Everyday Young Master would tell Little Chinapiece how much he liked her on his shelf and would lovingly glue back Little Chinapiece cracked edges. Little Chinapiece was happy. Young Master had said she could stay and she thought finally she had found her home.

Alas, one weekend, Young Master's mother came to his home.She glanced at Little Chinapiece on the mantelpiece an told her son that Little Chinapiece did not belong in his home. She had not suited the other furniture in his home. Young Master tried to reason with his mother, told her he liked Little Chinapiece on his shelf/ But Mother said no.

Having no further choice, Young Master sadly picked up Little Chinapiece and threw her out his window.

Down down down Little Chinapiece went. Hard road and rocks splintered her to a thousand pieces.

Never to be fixed again.

Enunciation? Whats up ya'll??

Sometimes, just sitting at a spot and watching people can be interesting. When I had a stopover in Frankfurt..(wow was that really a year ago??) I noticed that the people just sat the sidewalk cafes..and just sat watching people. I later on went to read that it is a favourite pastime of fellow Europeans. Im pretty sure most of their resumes have People Watching listed as a Hobby.

If we sat people watching in KL, I think the one thing you're bound to notice is the many accents and lingo we have.

I read this interesting article a couple of weeks ago. It was about how all it takes is for a Malaysian is to be in London for 20 days and they come back all British..from nasi lemak and teh tarik, to tea and scones, ma'am? I am not saying that only we Malaysians do it, a small check online confirmed that even Americans tend to change their accents , 'jus because i like it.'

I don't deny that maybe..just maybe..travelling to foreign county, one might just pick up the patter of the locals. But what strikes me as extraordinary are those people who have never been to a foreign land and yet speak perfect "Queens English" and become number 1 fans of Mary Poppins. Of course there are those of us who are trained to do it at call centers. And then theres those of us who pick up by just speaking (over the phone) to someone from, say, the You-Kay. Maybe it comes from hours in front of youtube. No, I am not joking here, seriously! You can actually train yourself to speak like Harry Potter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAqdYMcjMNQ

Then theres some of us who make up their own accent. It takes out the whole meaning in a simple sentence like 'what is that creature?'to 'Wot ees that CrE-ay-chr?'. Yeah, well, you can figure it out.

Manglish is alright too. Though I cant imagine an Australian speaking it.
Interviewer: What do you think of new movie Hugh? Will it fare well in the box office ?
Hugh Jackman: Ok ok la...i think can la make some money..

Don't sound right, innit?

But seriously I think its cool the way we Malaysians have mixed and mangled every accent we hear and made it into something that only we understand. Its unique and thats what gives people a sense of belonging to one another, especially with the multitudes of languages we have.

Ich liebe Würstchen...Enjoy!

keep the edge of the fabric of people - Google Translate-

There's one thing that I think I would never understand, even if I lived to be 1000 years old.Why do people find it so fascinating in creating stories about another person's life? and why does 90% of humanity love hearing gossip? whether its about their neighbours, their in-laws, their favourite celebrities? I mean I guess all of us do it, otherwise Guiliana Ransic and Ryan Seacrest wouldnt be able to afford their yatchs.

Unfortunate for me, i heard the most bizarre rumours about myself recently. What made it more bizarre was that the stories was related by 1. someone i do not speak to and 2. is about 30 years my senior.

In one rumour, I am potrayed as a slut. Apparently I had 'ran away' with a Foreigner and returned home(possibly my passport was expired, as no explanation was given on my return). I then had fallen in love with someone of a different religion and my parents had been so upset that they had arranged a wedding for me a local hotel to a man from sumwhere in India. The story fails to tell if the man was rich, dark and handsome, or had a yatcht. I mean cmon people, at least make the rumour realistic..say I ran off with a rich arabian and came home with all the riches of the world after my alleged boyfriend fell into an oil well...or something..

In another rumour, I was potrayed as a conniving witch, who had deliberately planned for my cousin to not have a home and to get into arguments with her family members. All because I gave her advise on not taking things to heart! you see, my cousin was angry with a member of the family. Apparently this person had said some unseemly things to her. Being the witch I am, I had sought out to mend the misunderstanding, only to have blame splashed against my face. and so the rumour spread among the whole family, and naturally, no one asked the witch what really happened, for fear she may curse their evil tongues!(or so, i think)

Well, I can only say that god gave man a mouth to speak, and as with any god-given things, we tend to misuse it. I am not blaming the rumour mongers, but I am asking for everyone not to believe every little gossip you hear. The best way is always to use common sense and clarify before spreading anything further. Just never know how the stories will roll  right back at our feet.

Now where did I put that broom??