2009 – What a year! What a year!

I know, I know, another boring year end post. But I have to admit, a lot of things happened to me this year that I really loved. I am going to try to remember as many of those that I can, because honestly, as the years go by, my memory is not all that it used to be. So let’s see…

I started on a new job journey. I don’t know if this is even considered a good thing. A lot of things happened at work that made me uneasy and well, basically stressed and unhappy. They hired me to do one thing, ended up doing another, and if that wasn’t enough, I ended up doing another job and finally the final one which I am now quitting at. Confusing? Read another couple of times. You’ll get it. So at the start of 2010, I’ll be jobless. The company itself has a lot of flaws, starting with an Malaysian Indian MOFO who thinks he’s bloody American and builds his company in Malaysia while stating its a U.S. based organization. Total bullshit.

This is also the year where El Rey and I strengthened our relationship. We went to the Netherlands to meet his family, travelled, argued, made up, got proposed, hitched and now expecting an addition to the family! This is also the year where we seriously looked into real estate options and found ourself a nice small condo which overlooks a beautiful golf course. Also, really disappointed at not being able to get the Type C Condo at Ara Hill.

Gambled almost every Friday. This is crazy, because we don’t really do anything much anymore…and just hang out, watch a movie, yum cha, gamble and well becoming old folks.

El Rey buying me really expensive gifts. And I mean, really expensive.

The joy and frustration of looking at furnitures and house decoration and renovating issues. We managed to secure our sofa, mattress (Slumberland), outdoor, dining table and little bits here and there. The entire renovation for the kit-bath is not even finalized or started.

The weeks of torture endured when El Rey goes on his work trips.

Low key birthday parties from the besties.

Learning to cook a “couple” of meals…with El Rey breathing down my neck for not cutting the onions the “right” way.

Travelling to the Netherlands, Thailand, Bali and more!

AS started his flight school and it was all he could talk about for weeks and now months and counting…

But overall, this year proved to be passing by extremely quickly. And I am now 25 years of age. When my cousin JO was 25 and me 23, I was still laughing at her mid 20’s crisis. Now that I’m here there is no such things as a mid 20’s crisis.

So now Year 2010. What will the year hold? I know in January I will be waiting for the good news! And in June I will be expecting and in August, the wedding party, then September, most probably off to Canada!

So what is my New Year’s resolution? To be a patient mother and try not to throw the baby out of the window when it cries for no reason.

Maybe I am going to start a week to week diary on how the pregnancy is coming along.

Oh and this is the first time I am announcing it to the world. So, please…let me do the announcement. Those who read will just need to be patient to tell the news!

Thanks in advance! And Happy New Year ahead!

Dark secrets of Brittany Murphy

When you care too much about how you look in public – the Hollywood drama.

I read on Perez Hilton today that Brittany Murphy’s friends and colleagues have came forward to give some valuable insights on how or why they think she had a supposed drug-related heart attack at age 32. Though according to latest sources and her coroner, it was said she probably died of natural causes.

A lot of people remember her breakout performance as a fat, brunette girl on Clueless. But I remember her as a thick lipped blonde on Little Black Book. Her voice and performance did not really suit the character, but overall it was a great chick flick to watch.

However, as a lot of people, women in particular go through in Hollywood, it’s always about the self image. How you look in public. If you don’t look hot without make up you’d better not step off onto the streets without it. The paparazzi will go snap-happy and the next thing you know, you’ll end up on a Celebrities Without Make-Up site or a magazine with your f-ugly make-up-less picture on it.

According to a source, the person told People magazine that “She was drastically different when she entered the business. Full of life, determined. But over the past few years, [she went] downhill. There was always something off, something in the way. She had a lot of inner demons.” Then of course came the issues of drug abuse and eating disorders. No big deal in Hollywood. Almost everyone is on an unhealthy weight.

“A lot of her problems were due to poor self image. She wore extraordinary amounts of makeup, tons of fake eyelashes, got her teeth capped, dyed her hair blonde, lost weight – she wanted to be a beauty. She didn’t want to be the fat girl from Clueless. She didn’t eat a lot. She would drink copious amounts of coffee.” Another source said as read on Perez Hilton.

Clueless director Amy Heckerling believes Murphy’s body image problems may have originated on that set.

“She seemed to go through a change on Clueless,” Heckerling told an entertainment blog Sunday. “Maybe she felt like she was not the, like, skinny, pretty girl, you know? And then the next few movies she was, you know, thinner, blonde … going out with Eminem and Ashton Kutcher.”

She even had trouble on sets…and most of her fans linked that to her marriage to shady business man, Simon Monjack.

“She was unfocused and never knew her lines,” says a source who observed Murphy on one set a few years ago. “She wouldn’t do the same take, the same way, twice … There were accusations of drug use. She and her mom said they weren’t true. Brittany said ‘Everyone was saying I’m doing drugs and I’m not.’ “

An insider on her recent indie thriller Something Wicked told entertainment site The Wrap that Murphy “was barely there … She’d go in and out of consciousness in the middle of takes.”

It is sad in a way how celebrity life forced people with low self-esteem and low morales to the point of death. Just look at Heath Ledger. All he wanted to do was act. Then came the paps, the promotion for his movies…he never wanted all of that attention. He sought to drugs to keep him sane and away…

Poor Brittany…you’ll have a better life somewhere else.

Short Story – Homeless

I was in a writing mood today, please enjoy, comment, criticize, grammatically correct, my work. Thank you.

Homeless

Short Story by MT

“People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are just people without homes.” Sheila McKechnie.
It was not time for the curtains to automatically pull apart.

I stared at the red numbers displayed on the digital clock next to my bed. 4.17 in the morning. My insomnia has gotten worse. The day before yesterday, my eyes flew open at six, and yesterday, it opened at five. I have read in an article somewhere on the internet that most insomnia cases are related to stress or severe depression. That is me today. Both symptoms describe my latest emotions accurately.

What am I doing here?

I was brought up an orphan. My life revolved around children getting adopted or not getting adopted at all. By the time I was fourteen I had given up all hope of ever being adopted. The nuns and nurses started to think that there was something wrong with me.  They have collected enough money over the years to finally allow me to enter into the first year of boarding school. I needed, however, to maintain the rest of my years there either by partial or full scholarship by myself.

I get through the severe name calling and bullying during my study years by telling myself that I will one day, be successful enough to find my biological parents and to let them know that it was their bloody loss for abandoning me. I have harboured up enough hatred for them over the years to tell them off straight to their old and probably wrinkled faces. I wrote the same thing in my leather-bound journal everyday, to remind myself on the purpose of my lonely existence.

I am now twenty five years old. Staring at the digital clock next to my bed and memories running through my exhausted brain didn’t make me feel any better. How is it possible that my mind is wide awake, when all I feel like doing is go back to sleep? The Internet has named my nocturnal awakenings as a symptom for terminal insomnia and that I needed to take sleeping pills or undergo hypnosis to ensure that I get some form of sleep.

Bullshit, nuts and balls to me. It means nothing. I know exactly why I am waking up at night.

About two months back, I decided to hire a private investigator to find out who my biological parents were. It was not at all cheap. I had to save up half of my pay cheque every month for six months before I was able to afford hiring him. I know I might seem like I am stereotyping the occupation but he really was a sleazy looking  man. His facial hair is uneven and unshaven, his lips were chapped badly and his hair looked like he hasn’t washed it in a week. I was sceptical but to my surprise, he managed to only take a fortnight to complete his task.

I remembered how my hand shook and my whole body trembled when I finally summoned up the courage to open the sealed envelope. It showed their names, their pictures, where they were currently living and what they were currently doing. The stack of paper had information about their past, their criminal convictions, the number of children they had and all the background information I needed or wanted to know. I read it thoroughly but I was concentrating my attention to who I resemble the most. I had my father’s hooked nose and his large brown eyes. Everything else belonged to my mother.

I had quit my day job to travel to where they were supposedly living, clutching one of my leather-bound journals in my hand and knocked on the door. I was prepared and ready. Ready to tell them how I had hated them all these years for discarding me like a paper bag in an orphanage. How they have set my life up to feel no love, to feel only hate, loneliness and abandonment. And how much I wanted to wish them both dead.

The woman who opened the door stopped my rage at its peak. She was seated and bound in a wheelchair. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking up at me.

I stared at her, my biological mother, then pushed my sunglasses from resting on my nose to the top of my head, clipping the bangs conveniently to the sides of my head. There was a million things I wanted to say to her, but nothing escaped my pursed lips. “Hi…” I managed, weakly, my palms sweated up a waterfall.

She recognized me immediately. I didn’t know how, maybe it as something to do with a mother’s intuition or that bond responsible for connecting a mother with her child. “Oh…Oh my God…” she stammered, pushing her wheelchair aside. “Please, please come in. Can I get you something to drink? We don’t have much…cold water okay?”

“Yes.” I answered, looking around as I stepped into the place. The dusty floorboards creaked under my weight as I walked. I noticed how empty and small the place was. The windows were cracked and not cleaned, pictures that hung on the walls were discoloured and faded pictures of green land and paddy fields and the walls were so thin with holes in it that I could see the kitchen through it.

“I knew this day will come,” the woman told me, placing the glass of water on the table. Already the condensation has taken place and I could not blame her. The weather was not being forgiving. Why does it feel so hot in here?

Emotions raked through me as I pulled out a broken rattan chair and sat down on it carefully, facing her. I did not thank her for the drink. “I am just here…to know why…” I managed to cough up after taking a sip from the glass. “I do not want to take too much of your time.”

“Please, please don’t say that…” the woman, I noticed, said a lot of the word please.”I understand your need to know.”

Understand? She understood nothing! Did she realize how much I had emotionally suffered through the years?! The rage started building up in me again. Why is she being so nice? If she was nice then why did she throw me in that sorry excuse of an orphanage?

“I…married your father-”

“I do not have a father.” I interrupted rudely, and then quickly allowed her to continue.

There was a look of gloom and regret written all over her facial expressions which she tried to hide behind a meek smile. “Well, we married when we were really young. And though I am ashamed to say this, but you deserve the truth.” She took a deep breath, coughed, and lit up a cigarette. I snatched it from between her lips and stomped on it angrily, this time forcing her to continue. “I had an affair with my father’s married stepbrother. And I had a child, you…I was only fifteen then.”

I knew where this was going but I could not stop the tears from flowing down the sides of my face. Deep down I was hoping that they were really, really poor and that they could not take care of me, that is why they wanted to send me away so I could have a better chance at being raised in a good family. But in actual fact, I was born from an incestuous, paedophilic relationship. My head was instantly filled with regret. I wanted to know, all these time, and yet when I knew, it was not worth it at all.

I was so angry. So angry.

“I was a big girl then, so it was too late when we finally realized-”

“Shut up!” I shouted at her as I stood up knocking the chair over, surprising her. “You have no idea what it was like growing up. No idea! And here you are telling me that you married your uncle and that my father was supposedly my granduncle?! You have some nerve! You don’t even have that little bit of conscience in yourself to lie to my face?! Why didn’t you lie to me?! I HATE YOU!”

She called out my name. My real name, which I had changed when I was twenty-one. The name I had grown to hate. “Don’t do this. We are reunited now-”

There was something about the way I thought she had no right to say my name that I immediately lunged at her with a loud cry and wrapped my fingers around her throat in that fit of rage. I felt my thumb pressing harder and harder against her voice box and I watched, as if in a trance, as she struggled to scratch at me and pry my fingers away from her. She could not speak, her tongue hung out from the pressure as if she wanted to throw up and I wasn’t going to let her. I watched her as her face turned a shade of blue, then purple, her eyes bulged out in painful agony, staring back at me with shock and disbelief.

It was over before I realized what I had done.

I dragged her lifeless body into my car and made her sit quietly next to me as I drove without purpose or direction. It was three days ago that I had buried her body along with the wheelchair I had smashed with a baseball bat at a deep growth next to the highway. I stared at the mount of dirt that covered her in the rain for hours. I thought she deserved it for bringing me to life. I have no regrets now. Nothing to lose.

I decided to go back to my apartment and rest after that.

I did not manage to get any.

6 in the morning. Another half an hour and the curtains would automatically pull open. And when they do, I am going down town, to the police station to tell them what I have done. They would want to know why I did it. I will not tell them. They will not find out as I have burnt the receipts from the P.I. and the entire envelope with it. I will not say anything, they can come up with their own conclusions.

I am so tired. My body drained from any essence of life.

When the first sign of light enters through the window behind the curtains, I will return to where I belong, all this time.

I will be homeless.

Did you enjoy this short story? Would appreciate any words of wisdom, hate, or praises! Thank you!

The Best Eulogy

It’s funny how life turns out, and the people that come and go…and sometimes you wish that you could say to them, what you could not, have not, did not or wanted to say to them before they go. And then after they leave us, you’d find, that you want to burst out, saying something, anything…

I hope this is not a sad post, but in remembrance of the things we missed, and should have said when we could, and now couldn’t, this lady said it best in a Yasmin Ahmad commercial in Singapore.

I cried every time I hear this or watch this commercial.

Sometimes, it’s not what we say, or how we say it, it’s how we remember them after they’re gone. And the little things they’ve done to forever be etched into your memory.

Yasmin Ahmad is a great director and a great film writer. You should check out her commercials and heart wrenching videos on youtube for Chinese New Year ads, family remembrance, inter-racial relationships etc.

One last video on remembering our lost loved ones…from Yasmin Ahmad again.

Sigh…

Royal Resort Bali, Indonesia, SCAM

Sorry for not updating these few days, I’ve been in Bali, Indonesia since Wednesday afternoon. I came back yesterday, only to have my love leave me this morning for a work trip in Miri, Sarawak. It was a good trip, very worthy and fulfilling except for the food which, I am not a big fan of. I am going to be posting by Days so if you just want to read up on what happened with the Royal Resort Scam thing, skip to Day 5 or else this post is going to be a really long read for you.

Day 1:
As usual, Air Asia was delayed (someone should teach them how to manage airway systems well!) and well, that made our arrival to Bali late as well. It was almost 7pm when we arrived at Bali, to be picked up by El Rey’s parents and their very nice tourism driver, Priyono [Pri]. Pri dropped us back to El Rey’s parent’s place which was a cozy, single story house a few minutes walk to Kuta Square.

The only thing about the place was that, well, we had to share the entire place with his parents which meant no privacy. And the plants around the place attracted more than a couple of butterflies, wasps, bees, flies and mosquitoes. I had my fair share of mosquito bites and if it wasn’t for my lovely Tiger Balm, that I had spread all over myself because I was down with the flu, I would have been bitten more.

We were pretty tired that night, and El Rey’s mom provided us with ample Indonesian food to eat. I had the fried noodles and El Rey had his bowl of rice complete with Ayam Panggang (Roasted Chicken, Spicy) with Kangkung (spinach). It was enough for that night. Pri joined us for the small meal and before he left, we made plans to tour Bali on Friday and Saturday.

We took a cab to Discovery (shopping mall) in Bali to get refill canister for mom-in-law (MiL)’s aroma spray [didn't fit in the end because she had the wrong model pointed out, lol], walked around the empty, electricity cut mall for a little bit, then around Discovery, along Kuta Beach, then went back with a cab to their house.

Due to my unstable pregnancy, I was thankful that they only smoked outside at the porch.  And El Rey was really nice to be sitting or standing far away from me when he was smoking. Either way, we didn’t do too much that night and went to bed early. The bed was nice and comfortable with two pillows each.

Day 2:
We woke up about 7-ish in the morning wanting to start our day early. MiL made us a simple breakfast with bread and coffee/tea and we sat outside on the porch enjoying the meal. The butterflies really scared the crap out of me most of the time and the sun rose really quickly, drenching the porch with its rays. Thankfully, MiL hung out a long piece of thick black blanket to block out the rays so we could escape the sun for a while.

We sat and while waiting for the maid to finish cleaning the place, we discussed on what we wanted to do and see in Bali, which El Rey decided because it was his first time around. That morning, we walked over to the tailor Yogi (FiL’s friend) shop to get El Rey a nice suit with two shirts and it was for a really good price too! Only RM 500++ for two tailored shirts, a suit jacket, suit pants and suit vest in good quality! I was not satisfied as I could not haggle with the price although I knew it was already dirt cheap. To get a tailor made suit here in Malaysia for the same quality would have costed me twice as much.

I bought my mother a long, batik printed square pyjamas for Rp40,000. Opening price Rp175,000.

We took a cab then to Kuta Beach which I immediately regretted as the beach was only probably 3 – 5 minutes walk from where we were. And I knew we were only taking a cab because I was pregnant and feeling dizzy (blood sugar low) so I felt kind of bad. But anything was better than walking at that moment. Over at Kuta Beach, we had, surprise, more Indonesian food  by the food stalls on the beach.

FiL joined us soon enough on his rented scooter and ordered us some Es Kelapa Muda (Iced young coconut water with coconut meat and a spoonful of concentrated rose water), lontong, sate and pisang goreng (fried bananas). The sate wasn’t bad with really sweet, thick peanut sauce, shallots, lontong and chilli padi. I ate most of the lontong with the sauce, didn’t finish my soup and one huge piece of pisang goreng. Needless to say, we were all refreshed after this. I must note though that the sate sauce that my MiL makes and the pork sate my FiL makes is excellent and the best I have tasted!

I had a nice chance to ride at the back of the scooter with FiL although the traffic is really, really and I mean, really noisy in Bali. Every chance anyone gets, they will use their “horn”. EVERY CHANCE! Look brother, have some patience..! Where are you freaking rushing off to? It’s a bloody island! You’re just going around in circles anyways no matter where you go!

That afternoon, we went to one of FiL’s friend’s (Rezeki) Rattan factory where El Rey and I bought some furniture for Casa. We (or rather, I, alone) haggled the price tremendously. For two rattan chairs, a table, a 180 x 50 x 50 cm box, and a 2.5m mirror frame (mirror included!), we only had to pay RM900, which was a total steal! However, the price of the cargo shipping costed us more than that which ended us up with paying RM2240 for the whole thing. Still, it would have been cheaper than buying it in Malaysia.

We spent all afternoon and evening choosing the furniture and cheating poor Rezeki out of his earnings, FiL decided to stop by a restaurant owned by a Chinese person he met, playing with a laser-like toy on the beach at night. The restaurant was near Supernova and well, we’re never going back there again. The food was HORRIBLE and DISGUSTING. Our plates of rice is ice cold, El Rey could not even cut into the beef of the rendang with his fork, my fried calamari had sweet ketchup on it and the chicken with brown sauce that they ordered was plain, soggy flour.

The restaurant owner was specifically dodgy and don’t even get me started on that one! Either way, I have condemned this place silently. FiL was not too happy as well. We walked back to the house after and spent the night there with El Rey having to do a little bit of work and talking to NvD (oldest sister) on Skype.

Day3:
We had to wake up bright an early today to leave at 9 am for a long day of travelling/shopping trip. We stopped by a small market which sold paintings but didn’t buy anything from there. We did however, made a mental note that we needed brightly coloured paintings because our furniture is mostly brown.

Then went over to a bigger one and cheated people of their earnings again by buying an abstract painting, two bird ones (El Rey’s facination with bird paintings amuses me) and 3 small ones with animal pictures for the baby’s future room. All for less than 80 ringgit. Some thoughtless souvenirs for friends. We ate a little bit at another Indonesian stall, where I had extremely salty fried noodles and El Rey said his fried rice was good. I did not feel too good after and puked even while haggling the price for my white abstract painting.

The sun was extremely bright, and hot and burning. Thankfully El Rey had helped me with the sun block earlier or I would have been badly burnt (a.k.a.Langkawi tip all over again). We were glad to be in the van again and off we went to search for good Babi Guiling in Ubud. We found Ibu Oka’s famous babi guling shop and stopped by for food. Out of all the dishes I had so far in Indonesia, this was the best. The skin was a little tough but crispy nonetheless, the rice nice and warm, the meat nice and tender, the sambal spicy and looked exactly the same like the long beans (so be careful!) and although I did not try the blood sausage, El Rey said it was delicious.

More travelling! And this time to Tanah Lot, where the famous, on-the-sea-bed temple was! We did not do much shopping here except buying my mom another long square pyjamas for Rp43,000. We took some pictures, crossed the slippery moss-covered stony sea bed, got our blessings (drinking from the spring water, the priest with a rice stalk drenching your head with blessed holy water and a few grains of rice stuck to your forehead. We even had a free flower to walk around with! I was extremely disappointed when the huge pythons were not there (last time they were!) and I had to take a picture with a miserable, small, black, water snake which I cannot even hold.

Either way, we took pictures, had fun and went back to the van. We stopped by Bali Galleria where we shopped for my undergarments and MiL bought the baby its first towel! We got cheated by the cab driver taking the extremely long way back to Kubu Anyar. Anyways, we had dinner at a nice Chinese restaurant nearby the house on Jalan Kubu Anyar which had no electricity, but the food there was at least better. Everyone in the restaurant had a cigarette in their hand, and the lack of electricity ensured that we inhaled most of the oily smoke from the frying pan as well. The food was commendable, I must say at least.

El Rey and I could not wait to take a shower when we reached back to the house…Overall, it was a great day with lots to see, buy and do!

Day4:
Another long day! El Rey was adamant on seeing the rice fields in the middle of Bali so we travelled about 2 hours by the van to the rice fields, stopping by at a mini grocery mall for food. El Rey had his Petai fried rice while I had a nice peanut butter and chocolate crepe (x2). The rice fields journey was long, bumpy and windy which made me nauseous and puked immediately after getting out of the van to take pictures. Don’t get me wrong, I had fun watching the scenery as well. It was beautiful. The paddy field was tiered like staircases and running down from the mountains. It looked well planned and simply breathtaking. And the air was fresh, and slightly cooler as we were up in the mountains.

Children were running rampantly naked, taking a shower in clean, clear water streams which was used as rain water reservoir for the paddy fields. I did not join them due to my condition to watch the naked children play happily so I stayed with Pri who had offered me some white wood ointment to ease the nausea. We went around, taking pictures, with me avoiding to get out of the van due to the dragonflies and damselflies flying around on the wet-ish paddy beds. FiL bought some candy on the way back for the naked children and they loved it. I was surprised that they even lined up to get it! Such nice mannered children!

Another 2 + hours drive and we arrived at Nusa Dua where MiL said to stop for lunch. I was shocked at the area, as it was mounted with an immense amount of rubbish. The three stalls were literally ON TOP of the mounds of rubbish! I refused to eat anything much there, only ordering bottled drinks and boiled Indomie. I could literally see the rubbish as I eat through the windows and the cracks on the bamboo-ed flooring.

El Rey said his Rawon (soup) was good and FiL also enjoyed his lunch. A group of Russians came forth to eat as well, so it must not be all that bad.  At least I didn’t get any food poisoning from there.

Finally! The reach at the “”clean” Pantai Geger! The smell of the dried out or drying out sea weed (grass of the sea) was extremely strong and I could not take it, puking again as soon as I came out of the van. El Rey helped me out as we rushed to the sandy beach to escape the smell. I think my parents in law hate me by now. Thinking how troublesome I am and for getting “special” and “preferential” treatment different from their normal guests. The beach was quite clean, but nothing compared to Tioman/Redang which I had promised them I would take them if they would like to go in April. We swam in the beach for a while, while FiL and Pri collected the seaweeds for Pri’s neighbour and went home.

After a clean shower, Yogi came by for the fitting of El Rey’s suit. It looked perfect! And the material was not shy of the quality. Well worth the money if you asked me. I was extremely hungry by dinner time and puking from my empty stomach when we went to this stall which sold “Tam Mee Goreng” which was a version of the Cantonese Style “Kung Fu Chow” except with a lot of celery. I don’t eat celery and I never will.

After dinner, we have decided to go with MiL for a shopping trip along KUTA roads. We cheated people off their earnings again when we bought curtain stuff, a few night dresses (for me) and especially great was when we negotiated with the door gifts for the wedding in August! It’s a secret I will reveal it after.

I HAD THE MOST AMAZING AFTER PUKING FOOD which happens to be waffles with fruits and ice cream! I shared this with MiL as I could only eat so much. Well, the food was not cheap at all, even resulted to the same price as waffles and pancakes in Malaysia. I still love the Dutch pancakes much better though. I am still waiting for El Rey to make me some! -hint hint-

And MiL said, “Now you’re really, really, really happy!” and I was!

We went back after and I had another good night’s sleep.

Day 5:
We woke up early again (seems to be a trend) as we needed to fly back to Malaysia today. But I had a craving for Es Kelapa Muda again and so El Rey and I (finally alone) walked over to the beach, while stopping to buy more curtain decorations. We had our fill, took away two for the in laws and decided to hop over to the nice fancy restaurant for luncheon when we got approached by this “tourism promoter” who speaks fluent English. He told us that he was promoting tourism in Bali and a specific hotel called Royal Resort Bali and its associates in Thailand and India.

That if we would tell people about their resort when we go back to Malaysia it will be a long term investment for them. Sure, we’ll tell people all right. Just not the way you want us to tell.

El Rey won two T-shirts with the lottery cardboard and I happen to be the “Star Prize Winner” who could stand a chance to win either a Panasonic Video Camera, a 7-nights free stay at their hotel or US$500 in cash. There is a picture below which I had picked from this site (which basically tells the same story).

SCAM TICKETS

Even though this smells like a scam, El Rey and I decided to check it out “just in case”. They drove us in a free van to a marketing office in Jimbaran where there were a lot of other “star Prize winners” listening to time sharing pitches from sales people on their desks.

Unfortunately for them, all their representatives were busy at the moment and could not entertain us.  So we left with our coupon for the 7-nights “free” stay in their hotel and our two T-shirts. I asked the cab driver on the way back if he ever saw anyone with a video camera and or cash and he said never.

Overall, it was a waste of 45 minutes to travel to Jimbaran and back to Kuta and 10 minutes to fill fake information on the registration form.

So here’s to all who gets approached, don’t believe in free stuff. It is never ever really free.

We left for the airport soon after and slept throughout on the way back to Malaysia.

What was disappointing was that El Rey never got to try the bbq seafood by the beach at jimbaran. But otherwise, I would say it was a pretty rewarding trip. I have enjoyed myself tremendously except with the food choices but did not complain one bit! I think I did a pretty good job for myself! -pat on the back-

Ara Hill latest updates

My love for Ara Hill has not ended and my never ending quest to search for its updates and pictures have paid off in this real estate agent’s blog. Although she didn’t mention much on the development of the area and the exact completion date, she did shower me with pictures (dark, moody and badly taken…possibly in bad weather) on the updates of the area.

I have taken the liberty to steal her pictures, while giving her props to her blog. I DO NOT OWN these pictures. They belong to the blogger in the link above.

Latest development updates from Ara Hill

I was disappointed badly by the 80% approval rate from CIMB Bank that ruined my chances of coming up and buying a property here in Ara Hill. I know, due to the zen and the feng shui of the entire place, that people who live there will prosper and live in peace and harmony…except when you come out to the tunnel area pass NZX.

Ara Hill…I will come for you sooner or later. Possibly later. When the traffic conditions have been improved.

 

Sarah Palin’s supporters do not know why they’re supporting her

Check out this video below on Sarah Palin’s supporters during her book signing session.

I will be really afraid if she actually will become….a governmental…figure…of some sort.

I’m glad she decided to step down as whatever she was before (the governor of Alaska?)…and decided to well “write” a book, which in my opinion, doesn’t seem like she wrote the book at all, but her inputs were definitely there. She just didn’t write it, IMHO.

Any ways, her supporters are hilariously….dumb. Or at least the ones that showed up in the video above supporting her. I’m sure she has smart, sophisticated, brainiacs supporting her in some way. Probably hidden. In a basement. Somewhere.

 

Part 2: Argument for “When it’s Us against Them” from the Star Newspaper

I received a response in the comment for my blog post yesterday on Dzof Azmi’s article in the Star newspaper dated last Sunday. This warrants another blog post. Here is what he wrote in his comment below and in his blog.

I was directed to your blog from your email.

This comment is duplicated on my blog.

I understand your anger against snatch thieves. That, added to the fact that they seem to callously put people’s lives in danger just for maybe a hundred Ringgit seems unjust enough that you would want to hurt them grievously – kill them even.

You ask me how I feel if somebody close to me was killed by such a snatch thief.

I would naturally want to grab hold of him, torture him mercilessly, keeping him barely alive so I can inflict the maximum amount of pain. I would do this, knowing that no amount of physical suffering could make up for my emotional loss. Yet, I would endeavour to make him feel fear, perhaps hurting his loved ones too to make him know the gaping maw that lies within me. I would perhaps injure those he cares until I see the loss in his eyes, and then perhaps go beyond it for good measure. I would should practically no mercy, except for him to contrast with what absence of pain is.

This is why I hope somebody would stop me from doing it. My fear is that if pushed I would do them, and I know right now, right here that this would put me on the wrong side of civilization that I would like to see the human race to be. An eye for an eye makes everyone blind.

This is why public vendetta is illegal. This is why we don’t let a person in the street take direct and vengeful reaction on those that wrong him. This is why we say, a man is innocent until proven guilty, and that the only killing deemed acceptable is in direct self-defence or as part of a state-sponsored execution.

And yet, that anger if left unassuaged will need to find a way to vent itself. If you continue to hate those that you think wronged you, then you will want to take retribution on all those that person represents.

I would like to call you a friend, if only because I think we both understand the pain that a crime can cause beyond its immediate act. If you want to get your MP to campaign for snatch thefts to be classified as attempted murder, that I would support your right to do that too (even if I don’t fully agree with that).

But if you want to be part of a group that hunts down and kills a man as he flees, because somebody else who snatched somebody else’s purse resulted in their death, then I apologise: I have to stand opposite you and stop a criminal act

First I would like to applaud you for your courage to come forward and reply on this blog. It takes an immense amount of courage to step forward and stand up to the person who has accused you of spurting nonsense. I am honoured that you thought my reply to your article was worthy of a response (and worthy of “unsettled hornets”).

You are absolutely right. The reason for me calling you out and responding to your article was not only due to my hatred for snatch thieves, but most of all was due to the sheer nonsense of you “trying” to see their side of the story and your “call” to try to “accept” them and “understand” the motive behind their sadistic act. You don’t NEED to see their side at all! You don’t need to ACCEPT them at all! They have chosen a life of crime, a life of making other people other than themselves miserable. Isn’t that “story” enough for you? What else do you need to know?

You are calling for the public to be less barbaric and leave it up to the MPs and the PDRMs to do their job and lock them up and find them and do the necessary to ensure that they will get their end of the law. Did you know the police stood by, held the criminal and did nothing while the public had their share of vengeance? They think he deserved it too! Let me share with you a video clip of what happened to a Chinese snatch thief who preyed on innocent old people while they are doing their daily “tai chi” in the mornings. The public did call the police, and the police did arrive. But people were so angry at their grandparents and neighbours getting robbed out of their hard earned savings they mob attacked the guy.

The public is definitely committing a crime as well and probably in your argument “lowering” themselves to his level. But are we really? Do you think by the public’s anger that they don’t feel that the Chinese man deserved it at all? Do you think that low life Chinese guy will EVER do something like this again? Don’t you think the community will feel safer now that everyone’s on the lookout for such cases? If everyone turned a blind eye, nothing will get solved. Heck, the crime rate will be increasing.

You say you hope someone will stop you if indeed (God forbid) you come across being robbed or your family members being a victim of such a case. You say you wont feel like revenge will give you emotional release. Well, my “friend”, you’re wrong. You believe those high-and-mighty movies that say revenge will not give you emotional release is wrong. Well, somewhat. Let me explain.

Why then do people go to court to convict their daughter’s murderer, why do people take police work into their own hands and conduct investigations on their own? If their daughter is dead and we should just learn to “forgive” and “accept” that it happened due to some “reason” of the criminal committing the act, won’t they just go home and sleep it over since they won’t get any “release” from it anyways, according to you? Sure, their daughter/son/mother/father won’t come back from the dead. But at least it gives you that sigh of relief to know that justice has been served. Whether it be the right way or the wrong way. There is that form of “release”.

The criminals kill mercilessly or accidentally for a couple of hundred ringgits. It is not because of the hundreds of ringgits that we will go “mob” on the snatch thieves. It is what they have represented themselves. You never know when the next one is going to kill you. You will have literally NO time to stop and ask if you’re going to die. You either stand up for yourself and expect help from the public or face a chance of getting stabbed at your vital places or pulled to your death from behind a cheap scooter. You choice.

It was the ladies’ choice to chase the man, and I’m sure it was an accident knocking him over while he is fleeing as you said. But maybe there was an invaluable item in her purse that no price tag can be placed on it. She must have a reason for chasing him. And his reason for fleeing is only ONE: not being caught for his criminal act. If you are at all religious, which I am not, you will believe that it was God’s choice to take his life. I say, he had what was coming to him. This isn’t his first robbery by the way, he was convicted before.

We can sit here and debate back and forth on this and I’m sure you will have a lot to say about what I have replied. And since we know we’re not in agreement, we can only agree to disagree. Thank you again for your courageous comment and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours.

P/s – I still think you’re taking a cowardly stance by choosing to be on “their” side. It’s like saying, “Hey guys, I’m on your side! Please remember my face and not rob me because I understand why you’re doing this criminal act and accept you and your community for who you are.” You really need to read what you wrote again and see what message you are trying to send to us, the public in the mass of your article. However, I must say that your MAIN point in your article was a great point; that Malaysians should not be bloodthirsty and vengeful and that we should allow the law to take over and not take the law into our own hands.