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12.

My dad had his faults but despite he’s seemingly rough exterior, he is a very, very kind person. He is usually gruff, sarcastic and short to people (only to adults, he loves the children). He is never mean though. His jests about, usually made in good fun. He never meant to hurt, but being very honest, he has of course, step a few toes in his life.

Most of the time, we were not in the know what he did to help which Polan. We would just know of his kindness later, sometimes, much too late.

He once gave RM50 when he just had less than RM60 in his pocket to his friend. “Because he had a young child and that kid needs milk.” My dad explained.

He would always buy his family and friends meals whenever he had extra (in his later years, he had little) – a few months before he passed, he kept buying Musang King durians just because I mentioned in passing that I liked it. He would always cook for my friends. He always give RM2 to the OKU petrol pump attendant who helped out at the Shell station near our house. He buys breakfast and send our lauks to the guards.

He is always thinking of the people that are seemingly unimportant in our lives – the security guards, the pump attendants, the Indonesian bricklayers.

When he left us, incidentally, on a Friday like today, I thought I’d do him justice by following his footsteps.

I mean, I’ve already gotten a head start. I too, am headstrong, sarcastic, glib to the extend of getting a “Kakak Tiri” moniker at the office and gruff (especially Before Coffee). I might as well emulate his redeeming qualities.

So I try to continue his deeds where I can.

Thank you, Ayah. Al-Fatihah.

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11.

Oh how prolific we are!

I hope I’d be at least rajin enough to update a coupla times in a month eh?

I visited my old blog(s) – sadly the one in Xanga is no longer there and found and re-read my entries.

I can’t believe I have all that time in the world – OK, not that, everyone has 24 hours, but I can’t believe I’d put a coupla hours in a day to update my blog. My entries were all epic long-winded ones. Some were fun to read (I wrote that? Eh, how come I knew so many big words?); most were dismal. Some were outright cringe-y.

But it was fun nonetheless.

But going through the blog entries, I found out that, I have not changed all that much. I mean, I obviously have expanded (SIGH) and grew one or two or 3 million grey hairs but I pretty much still agree to whatever sentiments I had on any issues or topics that I was blogging on at that point of time.

Which fleetingly worries me because does this mean that I will never be mature/wise?

Does this mean that my personal growth is stuck in a rut, as stagnant as Mawi CD sales?

Does this mean I will always be this angry at the world person who is perpetually cranky and whiny?

Thankfully, them damning thoughts lasted all of two minutes because I got distracted by yet another cute animal videos. I mean have you seen that parrot which headbanged to that rock song? So FUNNNYYY.

Anyway work and stuff are taking a bigger precedence, so I end my yet another potong stim entry here.

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10.

Thirteen minutes.

Thirteen minutes of typing, deleting and retyping.

I was to join the blog literatis for the #blogreviveday on May 6th.

However, there is nothing of utmost importance that I need to share in this picisan blog of mine.
Whatever social commentary I have on whatever current issues is usually shared via angry tweets and FB updates.

I used to write epic blog entries yonks back. Epic because they were super lengthy (does she ever stop whingeing? I had some readers ask :-P) not because they were titillatingly fascinating.
I do not have the tenacity, drive, wit nor the brain capacity anymore.

My brain is scatterbrain-er now if its ever possible. It is devoid of any ability for clear, thought process in crafting a blog entry.

All I can think about now is this…

Tau dak nasi panas-panas, letak butter (kerrygold or paling koman pun SCS), kicap (only kipas udang merah. Or ABC) and telur goreng (yang jenis crispy at the edges and silky in the centre) tu best gila? Makan depan TV sambil minum ribena while tengok TV Pendidikan or Wazata Zain dan Kak Anne dengan bunyi kipas ceiling going tak-tak-tak-tak?

Best childhood memory. #potongstim entry is brought to you by my paltry attempt at #blogreviveday. Teehee.

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9.

A short one. Because I have the *feels* to update but I can’t update it on my FB where my uncles/aunts periodically reads and comments on my status (so everything must be kosher and you know, kids/aunties/uncles-friendly) and twitter had become too vicious of late.

So I signed up on Tinder after hearing some news about friends and friends-of-friends getting some and actually hitching with men they met on Tinder.

I mean, am sure not ALL men find me vile and unsexy, right?

Right?

OK don’t answer that.

So I thought, why the bleddy not and went on Tinder and started to furiously swipe left and right.

After a few days, it dawned to be regardless how acceptable or decent you thought you look in that profile picture – the world isn’t just ready for fatties.

I’ve got only one match so far and the boy has prettier hair than I am.

I’m drowning my sorrows at the swimming pool later. #Drama

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8.

So the year has come to an end.

This country I love have gone through/is still facing some horrible tragedies that I feel will take YEARS to mend. But we will persevere. We have nought much a choice, innit?

On a personal level, my year had been OK. It wasn’t tragic nor had it been exhilarating either. It was just A-OK.

I’ve had worst-er periods – to name but a few: the time when I had very little sleep because I was busy trying to finish assignments doing my MBA (I sleep very little to start with, so having to juggle work + sleep + what little semblance of social life sucked eggs); the time when I had a huge balding patch on the side of my head because I was too stressed at previous employment (nicknamed Hell because it was like that); the time when I was so sickly, colleagues made fun of my “holiday retreats” to Ampang Puteri (record was 1 coma and 4 hospital stays in a year); the time when the ex dropped the bomb that he was marrying his EX in a week’s time and the most heartbreaking of all – the demise of my dear, dear Ayah in 2012 which pain had not lessened.

I’ve had some good years too. These are some of my highlights – The time that I got to fly to Geneva for work on FIRST CLASS (I now need to be/marry someone rich); the numerous times when I traveled – internal, regional, wherever; that time when I finally don the cloak and mortar to signify the end of two years of sleepless nights and endless presentations to lecturers who may or may not like you; the time of full realisation that I need not depend on anyone – friends or otherwise to be happy, that I am my own person and I should create my own happiness. That time when I (think) I’ve finally grew up.

So how did 2014 do to me?

I think it’s great that I have attention span of a bimbo on crack overdose because I seriously cannot recall any personal tragedies or loss this year. For that, Alhamdulillah, I am thankful for the rezeki and good tidings.

I think my key milestone for 2014 would’ve been the realisation of 2012’s resolution to buck the fuck up and start to live healthily. Through admission of guilt and chastisement, I succumbed to the doctor’s pressure to start a healthier lifestyle and signed on to JK1M. Made new friends and chuffed that we are now embarking on our new regime together.

It’s a long journey still, obviously, as these flabs are holding on to my being like a happy, excited puppy humping your leg but I have the support group and more importantly, the Semangat to press on, to waddle on, to weather through all. Gituuu.

I still cannot stop babbling about it because you know, I’m one of those type of people who’d circle the entire parking lot for an hour if it means that I get the parking next to the entrance. I now can waddle for a bit and a half. I am constantly amazed at the fact that I *can* not eat rice for days sometimes (but not too long, teehee) and it is OK to just survive on soups and breads.

Other minor highlights would include my stay at the nice, posh hotel in Singers in June earlier. And meeting up with Val – of whom I haven’t met in yonks. Reacquainting with the lovely girls from school – we are now happily chatting and reminiscing on WhatsApp and planning for a reunion. I believe I am closer to what little friends I have now.

I am now OK if I get no validation of my existence (sometimes).

Discovered some new food places – I am still salivating over that BLR I had in a resto I chanced upon in Damansara Intan. And Mee Tarik Warisan & Nasi Ayam Kunyit are current faves (Though it’s been awhile since I had them on account of having to go on a diet).

That said,

I still haven’t written that book. I don’t think I ever will. I have a frail ego and I don’t think I’d want to hear horrid criticisms about my work. (So much for being zen and not have to validate my existence eh?) Also, I have to the realisation that I am not imaginative enough to create stories. I can’t be arsed to think of sub-plots.

I got tired of social media a few times this year that I seriously contemplated to fuck all and quit. I didn’t of course. OK WHO AM I KIDDING WHEN I SAID I DO NOT NEED VALIDATION FOR MY EXISTENCE??

Hehe.

But seriously, people are so mean and horrid on social media. Why can’t we just bloody get along already?

Come 2015, my #projekbikinibody2015 continues on Gear 2.

Train for the 11km Shape Run in April *gulps*.

Two epic journeys planned, insya Allah, moga dipermudahkan. Three if budget, time and body allows for it.

Be a better person.

Be a better daughter.

Read more books.

Do more charity (and not talk to anyone about it).

Bring on 2015.

Happiest New Year to all of you 4.5 readers that I have hehe. May 2015 be full of blessings, good health, abundance of wealth and rezeki and all-round good tidings to all of us. Group Hug!

 

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7.

Took the plunge and…went for the 6km *run* over the weekend.

(I wish my life is more exciting where I would begin this blog entry about how I took the plunge and decided to elope/marry in Vegas/resign and now travelling the Silk Road Trail/migrate to UK or somethign more exciting but oh well).

Anyway.

I didn’t run of course, I mostly waddled. The other times, I just dragged my feet and 2 tonnes of flabs to the finishing line.

I nearly cried at the finishing line because ohmygawdIdiditIdidittttt. Didn’t think I have it in me to waddle in the hot sun for 6km (Actually it’s only 5.3km but whose care bak kata Wak Doyok kita).

And today I registered for 11.2km for April.

I must be crazy. Or bored. Or suicidal.

Or all three.

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6.

I’d like to think that Z was the One that Got Away but He Never Arrived at the First Place.

We met a chatroom (cue: collective groans and muffled “oooh one of those”).

We hit it off over our song choices (OK OK OK OK It’s a smarmy entry, shuddup already).

I was seeing this jerk of a guy then (another story, another blog entry) and obviously, was deprived of any attention. So Z’s conversations and chats (which later graduated to phone conversations which later graduated from how-are-yous to I-think-I-like-yous).

He was this guy in a band with an album out. Oh wow. A guy in a band with an album out fancied me.

(OK so we haven’t met).

We were supposed to meet – he was supposed to meet me at the airport when I came home after graduation but he went quiet. Months later, I found out that he was playing at some hotel in Kuching or something.

We were supposed to meet but it was not meant to be. We last spoke to each other er, in 2000? When he wished me Happy Valentines Day. Then I sort of gave up on hoping and wanting and wishing and moved on (albeit, painfully).

Weird I felt so much connection for a guy whom, up to this day, have yet to meet.

He resurfaced some years back – maybe mid-2000s? Where he called a mutual friend and asked about me. She also let it on to me later that he fessed up he fancied me – he was in love with me but decided not to pursue because he was a mere musician and me this supposedly law-grad from UK.

Pfbth. If only he knew.

I did feel miffed at that mutual friend – if ONLY she had told me earlier, could things have changed? Could we be an item? Could we have at least met and get him out of my system?

He comes in and out of my memory sometimes. I still wonder what he does and how he is. We met pre-FB/free-email days so I have no idea how to contact him. My only mutual connection to him does not have his number. He only have my friend’s mom’s number.

Until today, my colleague said his brother in law was in a band where Z sometimes play in.

And that Z went into the docks for drugs before.

Sad how things work out. Wonder if it’d be different if we have met.

Oh well.