abc = xyz

i’m not the person that you can rely on, most of the time. i’ve never willingly lent my shoulder for any of you to cry on. i am never the type who would be there for you, anytime. not me.

but that auntie lived alone. and she lost most of her memories coz of stroke, my momma said. so we felt compelled to help. rang her bell, exchange greetings, walked into her house, fixed her phone, called her son, and off we went.

we had to be a good neighbor. saty felt proud. i felt nothingness. is that heartless?

rotten potatoes.

“at elixir, everything is of the highest class. the drinks. the food. the music. even the partiers are hand picked.”

oh hey, look at me. i was there in a dress and flip flops. and you let me in. how dumb do you sound now, tell me.

just for the sake of trying something new, we ordered the over-hyped lychee martini. it was nothing special. and berry sexy mojito. a little twist, and we liked it. the baked egg plant couldn’t stop me from digging more out of the tiny casserole dish. a must try appetizer for everyone. one thing that is of the highest caste is the interior, i would say.

go ahead and visit it. be your own judge.

frustration leads to illogical behavior.

it was friday evening – 1930hrs – and i just left the office after cleaning my inbox – replying emails, settling unfinished business, straightening logistics. plans for happy hour at chilli’s changed to drinks at alexis which ended us up with a date at laundry. it was a different crowd – though crazy hearts’ songs were playing, i had to keep the feet still. those three buddies were good company, nevertheless. reached home at 0500 hrs. worn out. dozed off.

wide awake at 0930 hrs. damn this biological clock. visited the dance space @ plaza damas for some classes. crazy hearts had our big, un-halal lunch at teng’s chicken rice @ solaris. we left the restaurant feeling like that menage a trois on youtube. uncle teng’s chicken rice has the ability to contest hailam chicken rice on jalan bukit bintang.

regardless the whale-feeling encompassing us, we scout’d around for desserts – which means coffee for me. Dr. Cafe seemed interesting, so there goes the three shamus. house brew for me, americano for sarah, and a slice of cake for tyiana. freshly brewed coffee can never be bad. tyiana complained about the stale oreo on the cake. it’s general knowledge – do NOT put any kind of cookies on a cake twenty four hours before it is served – even a dumbo like me knows that. talked shit about every little things. every saturday should be this way. and it will.

drove home. and where else would these fishes be after all those calories? no other than the chlorinated water.

getting ready for an art launch at changkat tonight. heading back to mommy and daddy afterwards.

***

i miss siti nur abdullah razie.

stuttering.

i never knew Vincenzo and the whole stretch of One Bangsar exist.

someone gave me a surprise visit at Laundry. my jaw dropped, but it was a familiar sight. standing there, in his white Lacoste, looking all pimp daddy-like. he was there for the whole twenty minutes watching me acting foolish with the crazy hearts. if it wasn’t for mareena who grabbed my arm and yelled a 210dB “i think your boyfriend is here” into my ear drums, he will remain inconspicuous for the rest of the night.

and i had to abandon all other dawgs coz my Rottweiler was there.

unconquered.

in latin, the word above is invictus.

reviews from friends, flings, crushes, and hoes on this movies aren’t that convincing. so i decided to watch it. and boy, am i hooked or what. give me a movie on racial tension or sports and i won’t budge. and if you marry those two, i’m in heaven. one of my personal pick right after remember the titans.

inspirational storyline. profound words. though mandela’s role is a bit lacking in terms of the SA accent, i guess nobody could do it better than morgan freeman. denzel washington would lack the fragility of an old, wise man. jamie foxx… too new age.

this one is a keeper.

can’t wait to watch the pianist.

another fitful night.

okay. this is a little freaky. this drilling program is preventing me from my weekend good night sleep. emphasizing on the word weekend. come on ty. live a little. sleep a lot more. i always ended up over-analyzing things.

i spent an hour and a half having coffee and meaningless talk with a new acquaintance i met during recent comedy night. a colleague’s friend. i appreciate the depth of conversation – just about waist deep. it didn’t drown me. even though there were minutes where we were lost for words. moments when we stared into empty spaces. those awkward silence on first… discovery.

and maybe i would go on another cup of coffee. i appreciate friends with a different intellectual prism. who doesn’t?

skip the meal.

i’m on sick leave today. but i barely had any rest. kept waking up to the chimes of my beaten up cell phone every five minutes. calls asking for information. texts asking for files. emails on lunch and coffee dates today.

my eyes muscles felt over-worked. my throat felt like i’ve been gulping on sand. my joints felt like i’ve been having rough sex all night long.

i love discovery science channel. keeps me sane in this kind of situation.

sushi rolls and wasabis

late last night, i was having a text-a-tion (text conversation) with a good friend. we were being that two perfect idiots. like how big is his house guest’s banana is. or how big a girl friend’s peperoni is. or telling him my cushion is just perfect like the couch at harman kardon, when what i really meant was harvey norman. but that’s not the main story.

somewhere in between the back and forth texts, there was a stray one. saying From: Anas Suffian asking me if i’ve done his lbvf*. told him i totally forgotten about that and asked him to remind him tomorrow. and his reply made me roll off the bed laughing.

lucky i asked. lbvf bukan milf ok!

to me, he was never the type of guy who would utter those kind of words. and those, really shocked me. oh boy….

you’re just not IT. apologies.

moving on is as easy as changing the bedsheets. at least to me. so i change my bedsheets once a month.

i was hit with a good news (might be bad, to some) at 1430 hrs today. my secondment letter is signed and sealed (and kissed!).

crazy hearts are hooked on this.

ooh baby
i’d be stuck to you like glue, baby
wanna spend it all on you, baby
my room is the g-spot
call me mr. flinstone
i can make your bedrock

you will never be missed.

another blissful monday. though it’s a bad-hair day and scruffy-skin day (thanks to fraxel), the ride to work was gangsta-like, filled with inspirational tracks – read : bedrock, empire state of mind, ego. maree is visiting this weekend. and that only means one thing. ritual night out, hoes!

we were listening to cookie jar on our way home. the topic went on to candy shop. and also putting the candies inside the cookie jar. this is all metaphorically speaking.

sarah said she’s a famous amos. a common item, but with a whiff of its smell, you’ll drool for it.
tyiana hates chipsmore, but she is definitely it. and always, the over-rated tag line : now you see it, now you don’t, baby.
and me? i’m a biscotti. hard and atypical.

so what kind of cookie are you?