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??

Lost but not found

When I was in school, we used to have roadside traders set up stalls at our school gate. Day after day, they would battle the sun and rain, patiently waiting for the school bell to ring to sell their goods, which mainly consisted of candy and toys..

One such trader was an old Indian uncle who used to sell ice cream. No offense to BR and Haagen fans, but this man’s ice cream was the best I ever had! He would come by on a old motorcycle, park it across the road from the school, and would ring his little horn every now and then. We could hear his horn from our classrooms and the teachers would have a tough time keeping everyone in their seats.

Focus : Get out of class, get ice cream

I remember rushing down 3 floors from my classroom, going as fast as my short(er) legs would carry me to the bicycle stand, fighting the urge to hop on the bicycle to get to the main gate. For safety reasons, we were not allowed to cycle in the school compound. I guess it would have like a war zone if we did..the afternoon students strolling in to class, the morning students rushing to get out. There’s bound to be a mishap or two.

Focus : Cycle, cycle.get ice cream

Thankfully the school had also provided for a ‘safety’ man to get us across the road safely. I mean when you’re a kid, you tend to focus so hard on getting something and tend not to pay attention to other things around you, like traffic.

Focus : ice cream!

It was sold in
only one flavor: milk vanilla. It was so white and creamy, topped with just right amount of chocolate sauce and bits of broken almonds. If anyone ever thought to trademark his ice cream, I would gladly suggest a name-Heaven In A Cup. That ice cream was my companion for many many days on my ride home.

As all things come to an end, one day the old uncle never showed up. We tried asking around, but no one seemed to know what had happened. I was already in high school at that time and I felt sad that the littler kids wouldn’t get to taste uncle’s ice cream.

Funny the things we do remember from our childhood. I guess I am remembering things long gone as another episode of my life had to come to an end recently and I realize that at the end, memories are all that remain..

Peace to Ice Cream Uncle! Where ever he may be.

Hello..Goodbye

Hey there stranger, how you bin'
Feels like i'm standing on the outside looking in
at the mess we left behind
And it's a long way to fall
I gave you everything I had
I gave it all
And then my heart was on the line

I can't hate you
any longer
I know i'm going to miss you
I'll forget it and let it go.

What doesn't kill you
It makes you stronger
And though i'm going to miss you
I'll forget it and let you go

And even though the tears will dry
I can't completely disconnect
Couldn't make the compromise
Didn't have a safety net
Say hello to goodbye, cuse its gone forever
No more try, you and I
Not now, not ever
And i'll get by without you
I'm not going back again
I'm not going to lie to you
Cuse, that was there and only then.

Goodbye Cowie

Ever had that feeling that when an object has been around you for so long that it becomes part and parcel of your life? Like say that angel statue that someone gave to you as a gift for some forgotten event, at some forgottten point in time? It just sits at your office desk, day after day, until one day it loses one wing and you throw it out..still makes you feel like something is missing..

Well Cowie was like that. Bought many years ago in an attempt to start a small fake garden, he had a small patch of fake grass where he sat on, high on the old coffee table..sitting at the front entrance of the house, welcoming anyone who walked in. He had a tall tree next to him, which gave Cowie a good shade..

Baby mickeyface would play with it, and we would try to wrestle Cowie out of his grasp, so he wont get broken,but alas..today was a day we could not defend Cowie

Cats have been known to have no mercy.

Sometime this morning, some Cat jumped unto the table..trying to catch the bird that made Cowie's tree a home. Cowie, unable to defend himself against the monstrous Cat, fell over..and severed his blessed head.

A part of the house, the first thing anyone would see before they walked in, gone today in a matter of minutes.

Thankfully Cowie's body had been removed before diplodo or baby mickeyface could see it..but his memory will always live on..

Rest in peace Cowie..