If Malaysia aims to be environmentally friendly and curb those traffic jam problems in big cities like KL and its surrounding satellite towns, she has got to really upgrade her transport system. One of the reasons why people want to own a car and get stuck in nonsensical massive traffic jams, is - they don't want to get stuck in some Light Rail Transit that moves at snail speed and getting so acquainted with other commuters like sardines do in their cans, AND risk getting claustrophobic after the ride.

Yet, becoming part of the sardine phenomenon that is predominant in such below-the-mark commuting means did help me discover something new, something interesting today. Honestly, if there weren't that many sardines around, I wouldn't be trying my best to recoil to the corner just beside the sliding door and had I not stayed there for twenty minutes, I would have missed this out.


This, everyone, is a notice stuck on the glass pane separating the sitting sardines from the standing ones. It's in Malay - Malaysian's national language. Grammatically sound. Wonder what it means, for non-Malay speakers? Looks like the authorities are very kind too. They even translated it into English, the INTERNATIONAL language.


Such was the phrase they came up with, and such was the phrase they printed on notices that were stuck in LRTs.

But my grammar radar sensed some abnormality. Are you looking closely?

"Seating". I know what a seat is, I know what 'sitting' means. And 'seating', as quoted from dictionary.com, actually refers to an act of escorting to a seat. So, are you telling me that there are escorts bringing the handicapped to the allocated seats? Is that so?

The instance when I first read it was hilarious. I nearly broke out in giggles if not for the sardino-phobia I was experiencing at that moment.

Why, it's such a bad reflection of one, Malaysian's standard of English; and two, the level of professionalism in the government bodies! I could not believe a permanent notice like this, pasted on a means of commuting like this, could EVER be this flawed. It's not like some temporary notices erected around construction sites, or some temporary shut-down notices, or even temporary traffic diversion notices. NO. It has been there, and will still be there for years to come!

That is why, it is incomprehensible. Are you telling me that those who approved this English notice did not pass his/her Primary school english exam? It is absurd, unfathomable! How could the eyes that were supposed to watch closely be this careless! There are so many tourists using our LRT and THIS is the image you are sending to them? That Malaysians have highly ridiculous english standards? Or are they actually trying to say, we Malaysians are highly considerate beings who look out for the handicapped such that we station escorts in every train - which, apparently went missing when I tried to seek them out this evening?

I was amused, but at the same time, ashamed. With a little bit of disappointment. Why do they even screw up small and fundamental, yet important things like this? I am now already looking at their preach of a better Malaysia with increased cynicism. How can you even preach anything else with persuasion when you cannot even manage fundamental things like, say, correct usage of the language?

Like a sudden flash of the spotlight, it dawned on me what "Apologize" really meant. Look carefully at the lyrics.

"...holding on your rope got me ten feet off the ground"
"...then you go and cut me down..."

I collapsed the day everything else tumbled.
It was at the deepest valley ever I could not feel. And apathy was what's left dangling. Apathy - absence of emotions - I do not feel. A dead person can't feel. An apathetic person won't give a damn.

Maybe the rope that hanged me did not kill me. Maybe I was mostly dead, not knowing a slight streak of life was still clinging onto me. Why, do you never understand what I truly want. When I wanted to be alive, I was thrown a rope. When I wanted to be truly dead, you awakened my senses. I arose from my slumber, confronted with a series of 'Why?' questions.

Why did you hang me, when I so wanted to be alive?
Why did you resuscitate me, when I wanted to be dead to the world, apathetic to YOU?
Why did you forcefully break open, the protective glass shield I painstakingly built with remnants of me after the fall?
Why, did you tear open a sealed wound and expose the hurt beneath?

All that glitters is not gold.
Hold not everything gold that shines like gold.
Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth till the hours of separation.
Ever has it been that rising from the dead means you are still here for a reason?
A fool I was! To be deceived by butterflies of promises that soon disappeared.

Ask me not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for my yesterdays.
After which, 'WE' will exist no more.

Never going to rewind, for I am made much more than my yesterdays.
Never going to relent, for I am not, and will not be, a loser anymore.
I have the perfect reason to stay afloat, remain wicked.

Because

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

AaaaRrrrGgghhhhhhh!

That was a scream, of high frequency and amplitude. For those physics idiots (like me), that simply meant a high pitched and ultra high volume scream. It was the same scream that escaped my lips, my mouth and my throat, when I spotted a humoungous, filthy, disgusting, and most importantly, MOVING, cockroach resting comfortably in one of the small bowls parked beside the basin.

IT WAS ONE FREAKING COCKROACH, CAN!!

I did not know why I screamed in the first place. I was alone that time. And usually when I'm alone, the maximum I'd do is to let out a small gasp. I must have looked like a big time idiotic moron for screaming at the COCKROACH and dashing out of the kitchen, before turning around to close that kitchen door so that THE COCKROACH would be seggregrated away, and nested right ont the sofa, taking extra care to make sure none of my body parts touched the floor. In case, just in case, the COCKROACH managed to overcome that barrier of a door and attack me.

I'm scared of many things. I'm scared of spiders snakes bugs insects - basically all that slithers and unfriendly creatures; I'm scared of heights speed and all that makes my head spin. But nothing, I reinstate, NOTHING, frighten me like cockroaches do.

They are so dirty, filthy, hideous, gross, disgusting, nauseating creatures that seemingly have NO other PURPOSES on earth other than to terrorize me.

Lucky for me, seowqj reached at almost a perfect time and got rid of that filthy and hideous-looking bug. If not, I wouldn't be able to eat my rice because my whole bowl of rice was left in the kitchen when I ran for my life.

"So Close".

Love the song, hate the movie. It's usually one of my hate songs - you know, all with the lyrics and stuff, and how I can sort of relate to it. Yet today, there were other things going through my mind as the tunes sounded from my Petrof.

Today was as usual, it's as if I was watching a collage of faces. Some way too familiar, some distant, some faint, some clear, and some, a little unexpected to have their faces appearing. Then I wondered, if the song applies to these faces at all.

Could this be, a gigantic full stop, to put an end to such current affair; or pause and rewind things back to how they were initially. A gentle reminder of a fantasy has thus passed.

*The above is but mere illustrations of a series of intangible thoughts arising from an unfocused attempt at the song. It is not meant to be comprehended, anyway.*

What do 'Banana', 'Peach' and 'Tangerin' have in common, besides being names of common fruits?

You can't guess this, man. They are sexy names for exotic snake species too. Yes, you eyes aren't playin tricks on you. Some snakes are called 'Banana', some are 'Peach', while some of their reptilian brothers are named after the orange-lookalikes.

This is no bull-shit, I'm serious. There's this reptilian exhibition held in 1 Utama which we - seowqj & me - spontaneously decided to visit immediately after having fun with melted iceh-cream (which, according to smart-seowqj, looked like some pasta sauce) on waffles.

So it wasn't all about snakes, or solely reptiles for that matter. What so non-reptilian about the "Reptilian Exhibition" was that there were amphibians, mammals and birds too. Now I really never thought the three latter classes are of ANY connections with reptiles, ey.

They say, a picture speaks a thousand words. I shall save saliva and let the pictures do the talking.


The very reptilian reptiles. The BIGGEST stars amoungst snake exhibits. Don't you just think they are SO FAT??!!


This gained one frame because of it's uncanny resemblance to... uhm... a lump of animal waste.


The non-reptilian birdie that was supposed to be very, very sexy and exotic and pretty and, and... Nevermind, now that the camera doesn't do justice to that poor bird. It was uglified!


Now I have a BIG issue with this parrot. It SCREAMED out of a sudden when I was so interested in one of the reptiles that I literally JUMPED out of my skin. Okay, literally jumped, but on the spot. I did not shed my skin like the reptiles do. And THIS parrot is perhaps the vain-est parrot on earth, man! It kept posing non-stop for us to take photos of it. But it sort of changed its poses far too quickly, that seowqj had extreme difficulty in snapping ONE shot without that vain bird moving and blurring its own image.


And this is yours truly, with her million-dollar face of that million-dollar smile!


Flaunt your wing, birdie! But one queer thing about this bird, is that it only spreads ONE wing at a time. What's with its right-left coordination, ey?


And this is he, doing an excellent job at concealling his shaking knees because apparently the parrot took quite some time to stop moving and he's been bending to an awkward position for far too long. So not fair apparently the bird was a female and she loves him, but not me.

All in all the exhibition was a little too small, but we did have a great time laughing at everything we could laugh at. There were indeed quite a number of animals we as urban dwellers do not normally encounter. There was this beautiful fox lying in the cage, ever so seductively like all foxes do. Yet I had taken no pictures of the fox, because I got so high at seeing a fox that I forgot I was actually holding onto a camera phone.

That somehow concluded our (adventurous) attempt in getting more acquainted with Mother Nature, and kick-started my window-shopping marathon. Since I started working I have not shopped at all, with the exception of CNY of course. So what do you think happened when the shopaholic me was unleashed, in 1 Utama to be exact? Ha, poor seowqj had to put up with darting from shops to shops and exclaiming at everything that 'blings'. And in the end, I had to bid 1U goodbye, however reluctantly and unwillingly, because seowqj had bible studies and I had to feed my growling stomach.

If there's ONE thing seowqj (as with you boys out there) learnt today, that would be shopping (preferrably with a girl) is actually a GOOD exercise for your legs! At the end of the day that seowqj was lamenting again and again about how his feet ached from walking. As for me, I wished I could conquer the entire 1U in one day. It was a pity we did not manage to cover ALL parts of the big building.

Calling all of you out there who want more toned, firmer legs, join my shopping trips today!

Saw this on ShuM's blog. Thought it is... perfectly sensible in chemical sense.

PROCEED WITH CAUTION. HIGHLY LAUGHABLE. Especially if you are reading with the opposite sex.

Man - A Chemical Analysis

Element: Man
Symbol: Ah (short for Asshole)
Atomic Mass: Accepted as 70. May vary from 50-150 kg. Highly reactive at 150 or higher. (avoid at all costs)
Quantitative: Accepted at 7 inches, wavy brown hair, 6' 0" in length, though some isotopes can be as short as 4 inches.
Discoverer : EveOccurance. Found following duel element Wo, often in high concentration near a perfect Wo specimen.

Physical properties:
1) Obnoxious when mixed with C*H*-OH (any alcohol).
2) Tends to fall into very low energy state directly after reaction with Wo (Snore ... zzzzz).
3) Gains considerable mass as specimen ages, loses reactive nature.
4) Rarely found in pure form after 14th year.
5) Often damaged as a direct result of unlucky reaction with polluted form of the Wo commom ore.
6) Tarnishes easily. Needs constant polishing and attention
7) Crusty exterior but may be soft underneath
8) Naturally found in the crude state but may be purified
9) Simple in structure.
10)Often found in the gaseous state.
11)Spontaneous polarity changes relative to surrounding specimens.

Chemical properties:
1) All forms desire reaction with Wo, even when no further reaction is possible.
2) May react with several Wo isotopes in short period under extremely favorable conditions.
3) Usually willing to react with what ever is available.
4) Reaction Rates range from aborted/non-existant to Pre-interaction effects (which tend to turn the specimen bright red.)
5) Reaction styles vary from extremely slow, calm and wet to violent/bloody.
6) Great affinity for fatty substances.
7) May react violently under pressure.
8) Low boiling point, high melting point.
9) Attraction to large quantities of iron.
10)Poorly bonds with other substances.
11)Pure substances are rarely found except when covalently bonded.

Storage : Best results apparently near 18 for high reaction rate, 25-35 for favorable reaction style.

Uses : Heavy boxes, top shelves, long walks late at night, general repairs, free dinners for Wo...

Tests :
1) Pure specimen will rarely reveal purity, while reacted specimens broadcast information on many wavelengths.
2) Appearance greatly improves when placed in a sports car.
3) Easily titrates to yellow under stress.
4) Never true blue.

Caution : Tends to react extremely violently when other Man interferes with reaction to a particular Wo specimen. Otherwise very maleable under correct conditions.




Woman - A Chemical Analysis
Element: Woman
Symbol: WO
Atomic Weight: Accepted as 59, but known to vary 50-88.
Discoverer: AdamOccurance. Copious quantities in all Urban areas, with slighlty lower concentrations in Suburban and Rural areas. Subject to seasonal fluctuations.

Physical Properties:
1) Surface usually covered with sticks painted film.
2) Boils at nothing, freezes without reason.
3) Melts if given special treatment.
4) Bitter if used incorrectly. Can cause headaches. Handle with care!
5) Found in various states; ranging from virgin metal to common ore.
6) Yields to pressure applied at correct points.
7) Undergoes unpredicatable spontaneous dehydrolyses (weeps).

Chemical Properties :
1) Has great affinity for Gold, Silver, Platinum and many of the Precious Stones.
2) Absorbs great quantities of expensive substances.
3) May explode spontaneously if left alone on dates.
4) Insoluble in liquids, but there is increased activity when saturated in alcohol to a certain point.
5) Repels cheap material. Neutral to common sense.
6) Most powerful money reducing agent known to Man.

Uses : Highly ornamental, especially in sports cars. Can greatly improve relaxation levels. Can warm and comfort under some circumstances. Can cool things down when it's too hot.

Tests : Pure specimen turns rosy pink when discovered in natural state. Turns green when placed beside a better specimen.

Caution :
1) Highly dangerous except in experienced hands. Use extreme care when handling.
2) Illegal to possess more than one.

You brought it upon yourself. Serve you right.
Oh. How cold a sentence. Akin to sprinkling salt on the wound. Synonymous to finding perverted joy in people's misery, people's guilt. Something the evil MissyIvy would say.

I can't hide that triumphant smile, albeit feeling triumphant for the wrong cause. Guilt-striken, are you not? And that is why I am smiling. Remember this sentence from those HK dramas "the more miserable you are, the happier I am"? Exactly. Don't be surprised, don't be alarmed. I am still MissyIvy. Are you saying that that's not what I would say? Wrong. That's because you have not seen the other side of me - the darker, more sinister, vengeful - the side beneath the nice girl you always see. I silently told myself on the day everything came crashing down, that the meek little kitten died under your blades.

Though, my conscience is reminding me, every minute every second, that I get nothing out of such mentality.

Perhaps I'm not alone anymore, and that's why I am feeling triumphant. On my own, I trudge alongside the giants. Giants who lift me up high when I'm feeling down, giants who bring me to a whole new horizon of a whole new world. And I am privileged to have sat on their shoulders to look at everything in a different light. And of the giants who walk with me, you are no longer amoungst them.

The ambiguity, the grey areas, the fading dividing lines. I drift away from clarity with each passing day. Gradually, what used to be certain is soon uncertain. I have come to embrace this new form of certainty - the joy it yields, the unpredictable nature, the unsuspecting eyes. Come what may, I don't give a damn, for I dwell in the present and not the future.

Somehow I have injected some recklessness in my life. Come what may, come what may. You brought it upon yourself, anyway.

It was phenomenal that I could arrive at the bus terminal before ten just now. The bus driver must be auditioning for F1.

Now read this. "There is more to it than it meets the eye."

My bro asked me what that meant when he was watching Transformers. And I really had difficulty trying to put everything in words other than 'more to it than it meets the eye'. I guess you have really got to experience it for yourself, before you can truly understand what that sentence entails.

I made a discovery today. Big enough for me to steer away from the perspective I always adopt. Maybe not always, because I don't usually judge a book by its cover. But I have to make clear, that while I always ask people to look just a little deeper than what's on the surface, I myself - regretfully - am a superficial bitch who stereotypes.

I am guilty of one thing. Some people know what it is, others don't. And those who know don't quite see the issue there (at least not the way I do).

Heard this from Desperate Housewives repeat last night.

"There is nothing more deceptive than a smile."

True. There is nothing more deceptive than a smile. A smile is always the best tool to lie. Truly a good point to ponder. To the someone who's having massive 'Ghost' withdrawal syndrome, this was what I told you the other day about Desperate Housewives.

"Maybe it's not them. It's about you."

One thing about speaking to Yongyi, is that she always has an ability to make me see things from a perspective I have never adopted before. After a whole long circle of beating about the bush, she exposed me to another factor that could well be the root of it all. No more beating about the bush, for I might have hit the cause.

And that is, me.

I won't question how she managed to see it in such light but it makes sense. I've always been finding fault in others when anything happens. Everything, rather. Because I always thought I always do the right thing and the problem can't possibly lie with me. But now after her reasoning, I kind of buy her story.

So, if it's because of me and not others, what am I supposed to do? Guess I can't do anything, since it's totally against my principle to behave and be someone I am not just to make things right.

And to my greatest, bestest babe in the world, you rock man. Sigh oh just why are you half a day behind me. I so miss telling you things face to face la. I LOVE YOU, BABE!

I know she meant well. But my conscience tells me that if I were to go along with the flow, it'll be akin to grabbing onto a life buoy available. Or just settling for any substitute. This is something my moral compass tells me is wrong.

But I'm glad what I spilled did not tarnish my image. They still love me XD Alright only one replied but I'm sure the other won't ditch me.

There are little birdies in my verandah! Although they are tiny enough to be completely obscured by the nest their parents built, but their crispy chirpings remain very audible. Reverberating, I'd even say, in this empty, abandoned apartment, with only one soul to appreciate their heartsongs.

What are you singing, little birdies? Are you telling me of the warmth under your parents' wings of protection spread over your home? Or the anticipation of the big, big world outside, which you are still limited by your underdeveloped wingies from exploring?

Since morning I heard little noises in the apartment, and after repeated checks I still couldn't make out what they were. Until I heard it again, and was dead sure it was from the verandah, and thus went there to see what was going on in the house. Imagine my delight when I saw that bird nest resting, hinging rather, at a corner on top of the pipe. Wow. A family of birdies made a home out of OUR home. What I felt at that point was, warmth. Although reality check, I did not see ANY bird at all. But that's not difficult to explain, is that? Papa Mama went out to look for food, while the kids stayed 'home', 'talking' to each other.

Sigh. A family of birds.

I've read through my midnight mumbles and realized it was all mere stupidity disguised as philosophical. In short, crap. There are other things more entertaining to be put up here, things such as:

Which is worse, (a)driving ultra lousily and embarrassing thyself with THREE guys in your car constantly shouting directions and have them witness your dangerous attempts, OR (b)missing out on my weekly dose of Ugly Betty thus compromising my black humour for the week (I'm really getting less sarcastic and cynical), OR (c)depleting your phone balance way beyond projected rate just because, because, you talk nonsense via sms?

Because, the all three situations illustrated above happened in the course of mere two days. I must have embarrassed myself BIG TIME with my incorrigible, incomprehensible driving that must have sent those three guys sitting behind the message that 'IVY = freaky and amusing driver'. URGH! And then, I can already see that red alarm light flashing when I checked my phone balance.

I have completed 'Ghost', watched '27 Dresses' last night, and my next target - "My Date with a Vampire 2". But with an internet connection more erratic than a neurotic woman (this sounds so familiar?), I don't think it's gonna be a peaceful and smooth endeavour.

Something keeps bugging me, and I'm glad I've spilled it out. Please say you still love me, my dear(s).

What do Gol&Gincu and Ghost have in common?

Right, Melayu campur England, totally home-made, and most importantly, locally produced TV series alternating between English and Malay that I, Miss Stupidity, actually bother to follow. And I thought Gol&Gincu would be the only one (because, they've got Ashraf Sinclair the OMG-oh-so-hot-and-cute guy inside) I'd follow. But I was wrong.

Gol&Gincu was, pretty brainless if it were to be put side by side with Ghost. OKAY, not a fair comparison because they are of different genres. How can Gol&Gincu be brain teasing when the storyline is about friendship, relationship and kinship, right? But now, I prefer Ghost.

Percaya tak, I watched the entire thing minus the final episode on Youtube today. I ought to admit I was rather surprised to find the series uploaded on Youtube. Because I searched on Youtube out of desperation since the one on 8tv website refused to load. Imagine my shock, my joy, when my search actually generated a whole long list of Ghost episodes.

Here's the bimbotic part: At first I didn't think Zach (or Nazwan) is good-looking, or anywhere near cute at all. But as the show went on, somehow he emerged cuter and cuter than I'd ever imagine. But no, not hot enough for me to salivate yet. Oh, and that Quickie guy (whatever his name is) was inside. Ah this one, everybody, is sort-a ke-ewt. I'm serious. You'll just have to ignore his, err, fats and creams, and you'll think he's actually pretty stare-able. Not to be a spoiler, but hey, what do you get when you mix a murder case, a ghost, a witty girl, a suspicious manager, an investigative boyfriend, and a he-who-must-not-be-named, all in one show?

Endless of "huh"s and "what"s and "oh-my-god"s!

Oh why am I saying this. I'm supposed to be talking about the series, hello?

What I'm saying is, go watch it guys if you haven't. It's easily retrieved from Youtube anyway. Because it's very rare that I'll recommend tv series like these, so it's good to show that this is really something. Plus, so happen the ending enlightened me alot (as shown from the previous post below). And what's worse? It's opening song 'Masih Jua' is STUCK in my head. Now how am I supposed to go to bed like that? And for the first time, local scripwriters have proven their worth. Kudos.

Watch it. Experience the suspense first-handed. Hair-standing guaranteed. But it ain't so scary la, since the ghost is more or less a hunk anyway.

Am now waiting for the whole of episode 10 to be uploaded. Yes people, there are only TEN episodes.

I have not posted anything since that little adventure with the brakes because for one, I went home over the weekend and there are actually loads of more exciting things to be done when you're at home, including cooking (XD). For two, there wasn't much exciting events worthy enough to be published here (what a contradiction!) unless you want to read about how I suck at playing 'So Close' even with the scores, or how I rolled on the bed in pain.

Which, I reckon none of you have got the interest in.

Wasn't in much blogging mood today actually, but somehow what Eza said in today's episode of the newest home-made Melayu campur England series 'Ghost' struck me pretty hard. It's as if like, she just revealed to me what truly took place. I just couldn't believe local scripwriters are so good at mind-reading me.

... And there are days when I don't even think of him, and those are the calmest days of all.

Yea all along I thought I was but a fake who showed everybody everything but the truth - what I really think, how I really feel. And after some time I thought I was so good at it that I got deceived by myself, for I actually believed I was OKAY and happy and everything else I made people believe. Truthfully speaking, I still thought it mattered, and somehow somewhere I still couldn't let go and blahblah... That I'm the puppet of his past, my past, our pasts, that mere memories can change the way I feel...

Until Eza spoke. And I realized how nothing else can be as true as that.

There were days when I woke up to snippets of our pasts, and got drifted away. There were days when I saw flashes of him before me, and my vision got blurred for unknown reasons. Yet, now when I come to think of it, there were days when I did not think of him, and those days came by as the calmest days of all.

For all these while I thought I am, have been, or always am, a fake, or a hypocrite. That I thought I was deceiving the whole wide world for being someone I thought I wasn't. Little have I known, that in the process of this perceived-deception I have grown and matured. Silently, unknowingly, secretively. That in the process, what used to matter, doesn't matter anymore.

A sigh of relief at the dawning of this truth. I have freed myself. I am no longer a prisoner, caged in that dark dungeon called past. That I have finally realized, I learnt how to live for myself once more. My days of liberation have arrived.

For unknown reasons, the tears of relief comes from somewhere deep within. Yes, I am glad, I am happy, I've found joy. But there's something more to being glad, being happy, and joy. Something, intangible, yet the gist of everything. The realization that I have really, truly, put my past behind.

That calls another celebration.

Goodbye, my past. For you are now but a mere shadow. I am your master, and you will puppet me no more. 'Tis the taste of liberation.

...And there are days when I don't even think of him, and those are the calmest days of all.

If I had heard the same song that's ringing in your speakers now when I was in my dad's car at about 2030hr just now, I swear my weak heart would skip beats. Or maybe it decides to even stop beating altogether, because the tension and fear in the car was just too... overwhelming.

So here's the story.

My dad spotted some red icon lit up on top of his speedometer. We did not know what it meant, but already had an intent to send it in for servicing. We managed to clear a massive traffic jam, and dad even managed to park his car properly at SS2. All was well until when we were on our way to Chowyang pasar malam.

We were on the main road, vying for space with other vehicles. At a turn, the car suddenly gave an unfriendly jerk when dad was applying the brake. Before I could figure out where that jerk came from, dad's Civic jerked, again. Dad mumbled something about brakes and swerved into a nearby Mobil station and after a brief check my dad just rushed to the mobilmart and got himself an RM18 brake fluid. Eighteen bucks what the hell??! But I thought if paying two ringgit less than twenty would get up back up and running then it's no big deal.

Dad opened his bonnet and hence started our sit-down-yank-brake-get-up exercise. If you still don't get how the exercise was done, let me tell you. We took turns to get onto the driver's seat, pressed the brake a few times, and got out of the car to check on the new brake fluid. But after a few yanking the fluid in that little compartment seemed to diminish disproportionally and in the end we've come to an intelligent conclusion.

The brake is NOT functioning. Special emphasis on NOT, to bring out the idea that the brake cannot work at all, not that it's function improperly. Because if it's just a malfunction that means there's STILL braking effect when you yank the brake. Which is not the case for dad's car, because even if you yank it with your life, the car would just do an unfriendly jerk and continue with minimal deceleration.

SCARY OR NOT!

Dad had to resort to using his handbrake to control the speed. To complicate matters even more dad's car's a manual. So basically the drive home was an exceptionally adventurous and exciting one involving stages like danger detection, brake yanking before handbrake-pulling after car jerking and in the process mild panic attack which was forcefully overcome by the will to survive. *Gasps for air* Allow me to take a breath before I continue.

After everything I told my dad to thank GOD for delaying such 'excitement', and not letting it happen when we were caught in that massive traffic jam. Imagine having a car swerving right in front of you and emergency braking does not work. Or imagine reversing into the parking lot just to realize the brake does not work AT ALL when your rear wheel is barely a few inches from a deep drain. After all these imaginations of 'what if's you'll understand why I thanked Father of Heaven for shielding us, once again.

That's about all my adventure for today. Cross fingers for tomorrow.

Apparently Bahrain does not only lack a good cultural mix - it even lacks internet connection. WHAT THE HECK! All along I thought I could communicate using email (which is already the MOST PRIMITIVE way of digital communication), but just found out today that techno-savvy people in that small country suffer badly. As for me, my one and only mode of communication to that small country is gone. I'm officially helpless.

Oh look! Who's that up there?

What are you talking about? That CAN'T be me! How can you tell that's me? More than 1/3 of my face is covered in shades! That's IMPOSSIBLE you can tell! Oh great, now a purr-fect reason to get another BIGger pair of shades.

Oh no, DON'T faint, people. I know it was more than lame-ness, and temperature just plummeted below freezing point. But allow me to get in touch with the bimbo in me again, please.

Since the day I drove back from Kuala Kangsar IN THE SUN (and could barely see thanks to that BIG sun up there), I've told myself that shades are vital when you are driving with contacts. So I got myself THAT (points above) from Jurong Point John Little with Mao. Since the day I first wore it (grave-sweeping day! BIG sun!), I could not stop that camwhore from snapping shots of my face. And since I am such an ego pig with overflowing narcissism, I just love staring at THAT (points above). If you think it's tiring for your neck to keep looking up, look down:



Now you can shoot me for my narcissism. Before I put up MORE pictures like the above and kill your eyes.

It's been so long since I last posted brainless and bimbotic things like THAT. Forget about being profound, thought-provoking blahblah. Forget about being a mature writer/blogger and create impactful posts blahblah. BLAH.

My identity today is a dumb blonde who can't even spell 'bimbo' (wait, I just spelled it), who couldn't care less about what is going around in the world and ask questions like, "Al-Gore's a who?". Yeah, basically I'm gonna be DUMB and write DUMB things here, tarnishing my blog reputation by jotting down nitty gritty details of stuffs that don't make any difference and people would roll eyes at. And let them take away my blog viewership.

I couldn't care less.

I lost so much body fluid watching clips of Disney's "Fox and the Hound" on Youtube. It was a very underrated movie, I would say, because it was the first (in my knowledge) Disney cartoon that revolves around friendship and not love at first sight blahblah, and still not widely known. I guess not enough publicity was done for this cartoon, creating insufficient impression on the public and thus made it less familiar, seriously undermining the quality of this film, which often proved to be educational.

I grew up in the era of Disney classics, where 2D princes and princesses, dogs and tramps and of course, evil stepmothers and Cruella de Vil were popular figures amoung children. That's what childhood should be - of dreams, of fantasy, of happy endings - however delusional they seem. At least they are what that give young children a good projection into the future to look up to.

Yet look at our children now. They are being bombarded with Disney-Hollywood hybrids like HSM blahblah. The times of princes and princesses have passed. Now's the era for 'teaching 7 year-olds behave like 15 year-olds', as quoted from one of the comments on Youtube. Well when I first saw that comment I couldn't help thinking about the hunk and the babe kissing in the field with sprinklers turned on - you know which one I'm referring to.

It's a pity cartoons like Fox and the Hound were never produced anymore. Nor any films of comparable standards. What comes out of 21st century Disney are profit-driven, commercialized classical fairytale remake that often tell of similar stories - just like Korean soaps. It's a pity Walt Disney died, for that marked the end of Disney's magic. But lucky he died early, because if he did not, he'll be choked by his own blood seeing his empire turning into second-grade story-churning plant.

OR maybe he won't.

As I was crying pails and buckets when I watched Fox and the Hound clips on Youtube, I can't help having the idea of getting that DVD or VCD and keep it. Somehow it has been a component of my childhood and I want to preserve it, and maybe to watch it again at random times in future, however more tears that will mean. It is funny too, because while emotions were gently built up throughout the show, there were only a few points where tears will really flow. And it is always THAT few scenes.

When old widow had no choice but to send Todd the fox away.
When Capper the hound stood in front of Todd when his master - the hunter - was about to shoot the wounded Todd down.
And when little Capper said "We're gonna be best friends" and Todd, "Best friends for a long, long time."

There, as I'm tying these lines, tear wells are swelling up. But the dams are still holding strong.

Let's just hope that classics still work their magic on the younger generation, as much as they worked on us. It is only then I can get my ENTIRE set of Disney classics on DVD. When I've got the money.

Perhaps the Lux Aeterna that's ringing from your speakers spooked you, perhaps it did not. But please be assured I am nowhere near depression, however dark and gloomy the song and my previous blogposts portrayed. I looked up the song out of curiosity because apparently MANY people were playing it on Youtube. I was going to see what's so different about that song. Turned out it is an EPIC. And I do admit I have random (and weird) ideas of doing random things (such as watching Fox and the Hound and crying to myself in the house) at random times, but that's not a sign of mental health deterioration.

Worry not, OLD-lia (no it's not from me! It's from ShuM! Don't come after me.) I'm perfectly fine.

Somewhere over the rainbow
way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
once in a lulluby.

A song all too familiar, aye? A song with miraculous and mysterious force that digs out and resurrects innocent childhood memories, however deep you thought you've buried them, aye? Disney, it was. My all-time favourite.
I have long forgotten how simple a little girl I was, living in the 'Disney' shell where princes and princesses will definitely live happily ever after. I have also long forgotten how easy it was to create, and to feel joy and happiness. I have long forgotten, until 'Over The Rainbow' rang from my speakers, and brought back what used to be a simple, naive little schoolgirl.

But we are never who we were ten years ago. We meet things along the way that changes us from who we were, to who we are, and to who we will become. I know, I know, this sounds old and ancient because I've repeated and rephrased the same thing countless of times before. Urgh, if only I posses greater vocabulary and better expression.

I've just discovered a friend's secret hideout moments ago. Read it - everything - and finally understood the sequence of events, causes and effects, everything that was once a question mark. My queries are answered, what's next?

All was too familiar. The ache, the pain, the irony, the desire, the longing. I now begin to wonder if this is just another phase of life for most girls. Or could it be our punishment for believing in an ever, ever after with that certain special someone. But the difference between us two, is that while hers commited the despicable act of two-timing, mine just vanished from plain sight, leaving me hanging on the thin thread of faith, hovering feets above dangerous rocks. Yet what difference does it make, when our endings are the exact same episodes?

I admit I was rather disturbed at the way she chose to face it. I mean, I'm not exactly doing a superb job but at least - at least - I am ACTING normally, if I have to act. And when that emotional wave of depression swipes across, just say I'm doing an awesome job at clinging onto things that prevent me from being swept away with the tide. So my dear girl, you WILL surmount such turbulence, believe me. For countless ladies have fallen prey to this ruthless game, countless hearts shattered yet they managed to put everything back in place.

The bleeding has stopped. Blood has clotted, the wound turned into a scar. Not hurting on the surface anymore, but touch it not, for nobody know if it will ever tear apart, exposing a fresh wound again.

April Fool's, everyone.

MissyIvy
A Cynic with passion for
the Art of Sarcasm
Chemist in training

Do Better Nails
World Peace
AIDS Free
most importantly,
Finish Everything ON TIME! and
try not to be late

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This layout is proudly made by hopmad. Images are from tumblr and flickr. Hopmad did the collage of the images with the help from GIMP and she got the textures from swimchick.