Well, it's that time of the year again. Actually I didn't realize it's here again until I saw the leftover joss sticks and candles on the roadside and my mom folding those prayer papers.
Yes people, it's Hungry Ghost Festival again. A time when the gates of Hell open to let out the many, well, hungry ghosts, to feed. Virgins are adviced to stay indoors after the sun sets while Chinese Opera and live concerts pop up in every district.
People will be well adviced to be extra careful in the things they say and do during this time at the risk of annoying the "Good Brothers". Unspeakable things have been known to befall those who pay no heed to this advice, so beware.....
The festival will last for about a month (1 think) but prayer sessions last for 3 days at different times of the month for different districts. Again, I am only guessing :p
During my childhood days the efigy of "Phor Thor Kong", a rather formidable and scary figure is erected at each district, but because it scares the kids (and because it's cheaper), some districts replace the efigy with just the name of the deity written on a red background.
Well, it's only fitting during this time that people share spooky tales, be it their own personal close encounters or some story they heard from a friend of a friend of a friend.
Well, this I heard from an ex colleague.
Auntie K lives in Kulim. There is a cemetery up the road from her house. At the stroke of midnight during the start of every Hungry Ghost Festival you can feel an eerie wind blow from the direction of the cemetery followed by loud cheering and sounds of a big crowd rushing down the road.
If you have worked with me in the factory before, the sound is not unlike the ruckus during lunch break. You know what it's like. With limited time and food, all of us want to make sure that we reach the cafeteria as early as possible.
Looks like hungry ghosts, whether dead or living are everywhere :D
Anyone else has any spooky stories to share?
Friday, August 24, 2007
At Last, Full Custody of my Daughter!
This afternoon I finally got my discharge letter from the bank for my daughter (that's my cute little car, for those not in the know). At last, 1 less financial obligation every month.
Has it really been 5 years? I think my daughter looks older than that (blush). Granted I'm not really good at taking care of her. How many wax and polish sessions has she had so far? I believe that can be counted with the fingers of one hand. Washes per month? Ummm...... only when I can remember, which is usually when the car wash has closed for the day. Most of the time when I pass one that is operating, I'm in a hurry to get somewhere.
It wasn't an easy process, this last leg of paying off my loan. Can't believe they made me go all the way downtown to settle my last payment over the counter. WTF is the convenience of your internet banking for then, pray tell. Fighting traffic, problems finding parking, then I had to go through it all over again the next day because they can't give me the discharge letter on the same day. Grrrrr.....
Hey, wait a minute.......is this the same girl talking from a few months back? I used to insist on finding work downtown because for some insane reason, I love fighting traffic on the way to work. It never fails to get my blood pumping. I've only been working here for like a month and already I'm complaining.
I still go to the gym in the evenings, but the jam is much considerably less compared to the mornings. Sheesh, I'm losing my edge. Too pampered working so close to home :)
Well, now that my daughter is fully mine, I can concentrate on paying off my credit card. Hopefully it won't be long, if I stick to the plan.
Has it really been 5 years? I think my daughter looks older than that (blush). Granted I'm not really good at taking care of her. How many wax and polish sessions has she had so far? I believe that can be counted with the fingers of one hand. Washes per month? Ummm...... only when I can remember, which is usually when the car wash has closed for the day. Most of the time when I pass one that is operating, I'm in a hurry to get somewhere.
It wasn't an easy process, this last leg of paying off my loan. Can't believe they made me go all the way downtown to settle my last payment over the counter. WTF is the convenience of your internet banking for then, pray tell. Fighting traffic, problems finding parking, then I had to go through it all over again the next day because they can't give me the discharge letter on the same day. Grrrrr.....
Hey, wait a minute.......is this the same girl talking from a few months back? I used to insist on finding work downtown because for some insane reason, I love fighting traffic on the way to work. It never fails to get my blood pumping. I've only been working here for like a month and already I'm complaining.
I still go to the gym in the evenings, but the jam is much considerably less compared to the mornings. Sheesh, I'm losing my edge. Too pampered working so close to home :)
Well, now that my daughter is fully mine, I can concentrate on paying off my credit card. Hopefully it won't be long, if I stick to the plan.
Something I Only Flound Out Almost 30 Years Later......
I have been using Pelikan stationery since I started schooling, but never realized that the word is "Pelican" loosely translated into Malay until I saw its trademark - that of a Pelican - on TV recently. Ha ha!
Big Boy - A Story of Happily Ever After
Big Boy - named literally because of his size - he's HUGE!!!!! About the size of a St Bernard, I think.
Big Boy was a stray who hangs around my mom's office. One day he was taken away by the pound. Mom bailed him out and took him to our home. Her plan was to keep him in our apartment during the weekends because that's when the pound people make their rounds then take him back to his old neighborhood during the week days.
OK, sounds good to me, except that mom had him tied up at the fire escape all the time because he sheds too much fur in the apartment. Come on, you can't have a dog in the house and not have fur. It's part and package of having a dog. So she rescued him from being put down but then keep him tied up all the time. What kind of life is that?
If you're having images of a big dog tearing up an apartment ala Beethoven (the St Bernard movie), you'd be surprised at what a good dog Big Boy is. I have never seen a dog his size with such a sweet temperament. Sure he wanted to explore every nook and cranny of his new environment, but did he go tearing into the place? Nope, I would say he more or less "ambled" about the place sniffing here and there. Other than that, he mostly went about his business.
He ignored me most of the time, at first, but once he got to know me, he was so playful. His biggest charm was shaking hands. Oh yeah, those soft brown eyes that looks contentedly back at you when you stroke and pat him will melt any heart ^_^
I snuck him into my room to sleep on Saturday night, or should I say, Sunday morning because I couldn't bear to see him being tied up like that. Of course I did not let him get on the bed. That is still pretty much Baby's territory as far as I'm concerned. Well, he did try to jump up the bed but I was sort of in the way. He landed on my chest and man, I could've sworn my ribs broke. Ouch!
Big Boy spent the whole weekend with us. Come Monday, he got his lucky break. A customer of my mom's company saw Big Boy and was taken to him immediately. Big Boy's "shake hands" trick did it I guess.
Now Big Boy lives in a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a big compound to run about.
Goodbye, Big Boy! I barely knew you, but I'm glad you got your happy ending.
Big Boy was a stray who hangs around my mom's office. One day he was taken away by the pound. Mom bailed him out and took him to our home. Her plan was to keep him in our apartment during the weekends because that's when the pound people make their rounds then take him back to his old neighborhood during the week days.
OK, sounds good to me, except that mom had him tied up at the fire escape all the time because he sheds too much fur in the apartment. Come on, you can't have a dog in the house and not have fur. It's part and package of having a dog. So she rescued him from being put down but then keep him tied up all the time. What kind of life is that?
If you're having images of a big dog tearing up an apartment ala Beethoven (the St Bernard movie), you'd be surprised at what a good dog Big Boy is. I have never seen a dog his size with such a sweet temperament. Sure he wanted to explore every nook and cranny of his new environment, but did he go tearing into the place? Nope, I would say he more or less "ambled" about the place sniffing here and there. Other than that, he mostly went about his business.
He ignored me most of the time, at first, but once he got to know me, he was so playful. His biggest charm was shaking hands. Oh yeah, those soft brown eyes that looks contentedly back at you when you stroke and pat him will melt any heart ^_^
I snuck him into my room to sleep on Saturday night, or should I say, Sunday morning because I couldn't bear to see him being tied up like that. Of course I did not let him get on the bed. That is still pretty much Baby's territory as far as I'm concerned. Well, he did try to jump up the bed but I was sort of in the way. He landed on my chest and man, I could've sworn my ribs broke. Ouch!
Big Boy spent the whole weekend with us. Come Monday, he got his lucky break. A customer of my mom's company saw Big Boy and was taken to him immediately. Big Boy's "shake hands" trick did it I guess.
Now Big Boy lives in a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a big compound to run about.
Goodbye, Big Boy! I barely knew you, but I'm glad you got your happy ending.
RAID!
It had to happen sometime, right? We don’t expect to go clubbing and not experience it at least once. Last weekend was my first in my decade plus clubbing experience.
We were enjoying ourselves dancing, drinking and just having a blast hanging out with friends when the lights came on, the music stopped and the DJ asked us to calm down. Then this mata-mata introduced himself and asked for the girls to go to one side of the room and the guys the other side. There was a long wait as the club management and the mata-mata stepped outside for a little negotiation.
To make a long story short, they finally let us out. At least, they started to let the guys out first after making a “show” of verifying their IDs. Obviously the term “women and children first” was not the order of the day. It was only later that they let the girls out. Later I learnt that the first batch that were let out went straight up the big car to be transported to the big house to spend the night.
Saw Awie there. Sheesh, the guy sure has deteriorated since his divorce with his long bleached hair tied up in a pony tail ala……what’s the name of that VJ guy on TV? The one with the dreadlocks? Hehehe can’t remember lah. I believe his name starts with a "D" or an "R". While we were waiting outside for the rest of our friends to come out, a second big car came along to transport more “lucky” souls to the big house. Since Awie’s entourage was part of that group, I believe he had to fork out some moolah to secure their release.
A friend of mine had a far less pleasant experience. That time, they didn’t even bother to check for ID on the spot. Just rounded everyone up to the big house where they spent the night. We were lucky the let us walk out the door without much trouble. Sure am glad I didn’t have to start my Sunday peeing in front of 50 other women or get my parents to come bail me out of jail. Still, the whole fiasco felt like a total waste of my time. The stern mata-mata standing guard at the door didn’t even bother to glance at my ID when I waved it in front of him. Come on, why bother conducting a raid when you don’t even do a proper job at it?
We were enjoying ourselves dancing, drinking and just having a blast hanging out with friends when the lights came on, the music stopped and the DJ asked us to calm down. Then this mata-mata introduced himself and asked for the girls to go to one side of the room and the guys the other side. There was a long wait as the club management and the mata-mata stepped outside for a little negotiation.
To make a long story short, they finally let us out. At least, they started to let the guys out first after making a “show” of verifying their IDs. Obviously the term “women and children first” was not the order of the day. It was only later that they let the girls out. Later I learnt that the first batch that were let out went straight up the big car to be transported to the big house to spend the night.
Saw Awie there. Sheesh, the guy sure has deteriorated since his divorce with his long bleached hair tied up in a pony tail ala……what’s the name of that VJ guy on TV? The one with the dreadlocks? Hehehe can’t remember lah. I believe his name starts with a "D" or an "R". While we were waiting outside for the rest of our friends to come out, a second big car came along to transport more “lucky” souls to the big house. Since Awie’s entourage was part of that group, I believe he had to fork out some moolah to secure their release.
A friend of mine had a far less pleasant experience. That time, they didn’t even bother to check for ID on the spot. Just rounded everyone up to the big house where they spent the night. We were lucky the let us walk out the door without much trouble. Sure am glad I didn’t have to start my Sunday peeing in front of 50 other women or get my parents to come bail me out of jail. Still, the whole fiasco felt like a total waste of my time. The stern mata-mata standing guard at the door didn’t even bother to glance at my ID when I waved it in front of him. Come on, why bother conducting a raid when you don’t even do a proper job at it?
Conventional Iron vs Steam Iron
So my mom finally bought one of those steam irons said to be more user friendly.
With a conventional iron
With a conventional iron
- I spend a little under an hour to iron 1 work shirt
- I burn my hand occassionally when I don't look before I pick it up
- I burn my shirts occassionally (no holes yet, just unsightly brown spots)
- I get aching calves from standing too long over my ironing load (note to self: schedule weekly ironing sessions, even if it's just 1 shirt)
With a steam iron
- I spend nearly an hour just to "kau tim" 1 shirt which I eventually had to "kau tim" with a conventional iron because the steam iron just doesn't measure up
- I burned my hand and feet too due to the hot water droplets that leaked out from the iron occassionally
- I didn't burn my shirt with the steam iron but heck, please refer to the first point above to see why I ditched it before I even finished ironing 1 shirt
- I get an aching arm from holding the iron up to my shirt to clear up a wrinkle that never goes away
No prizes for guessing which iron I will be using from now on.
Blacksheep's Musings
It's amazing how the rest of my family, relatives included are so "Brady Bunch" clean cut, yet out pops yours truly, totally wild and defiantly adamant about being different.
Amongst Mom's many complaints:
- Look at your brother, already staying in his own place, not parents' place or rental, but his own place. Sheesh! So what?! At least I don't have to contend with all that mortgage payment shit.
- Your brother already has a good job with an obscene salary but is now considering employment overseas to earn even more. That's drive for you! Riiiiigggttttt. And every minute he's busting his ass for $$$$ is another minute of his life gone. Is it worth it?
- Look at your cousin, fresh graduate and so much younger than you yet already has her life planned. You (rolls eyes), you're still drifting about like floatsam with not a clue about what you want to do with yourself. Actually, I do! I wanna enjoy and LIVE every minute of my life. If it means having less ambition compared to the rest of them slaves, so be it. Carpe Diem!!!!!!
Here's a glimpse of what family gatherings are like for me.
- My mom will be gathered with her sisters talking about their auntie things.
- Dad together with my uncles talking their uncle things.
- My married female cousins will be grouped together talking about their blissful Boring Tai Tai lives (that means raising kids, cleaning house, changing diapers, more kids stories)
- My unmarried female cousins will most probably be grouped together with the above group because they desperately wanna be in the above group. DESPERATE being the operative word here.
- My guy cousins will be grouped together talking about, well, the usual. Think this is the only group I can communicate with.
- My nieces and nephews will be running and screaming all over the place. OK, I'm not crazy about kids and will probably never be, until they go to college or loose their virginity.
- Then there is me, sitting quietly in my dark corner thinking, "Aww crap, I am in hell! PLEASE GOD, deliver me to my salvation!"
There is no way I can talk to them about the things I've done without their eyes popping out and mom throwing a fit. If this were the middle ages, I have no doubt my lifestyle wil result in my banishment from the village, or if it were China, being put in a pig cage and thrown into the river.
Thank God I have a wonderful group of friends who can introduce and share these experiences with me. You guys make being the blacksheep something to be proud of :-)
Systems Blockage
Folks, remember when we were kids, if we had a fever Grandma will take out this porcelein spoon and vigorously scrape our backs to release all the "heat"?
I had this similar treatment yesterday which they called "Hot Back Treatment". No, I don't have a fever. I signed up for this spa package from this place in my office building. When they said Hot Back Treatment, I immediately thought about that relaxing therapy I had in Thailand many years ago where they put hot rocks on your back. Little did I know how dead wrong I was.
The massage was very nice, loosened all the muscles on my back. Didn't realize I had so many knots back there. Then came the shocker. Instead of rocks, the masseuse took out this clay thingy that generates heat and started running it up and down my back. The passage wasn't smooth. Even I can feel it. That means there are blockages in the flow of energy. The fact that the skin on my back reddens immediately tells her that I also have a lot of heat in my system.
Was it painful? Definitely! I had gone from being all relaxed to being tensed all over again but when she stopped there was a nice, soothing tingling on my back and I can actually feel the blood flow. Wow!
The verdict? I have plumbing problems. Take care of that and I should have a healthier body.
When I checked out my back in the mirror, it looked like someone had been riding a bicycle over it. Yech! No backless tops for me for a few days.
I had this similar treatment yesterday which they called "Hot Back Treatment". No, I don't have a fever. I signed up for this spa package from this place in my office building. When they said Hot Back Treatment, I immediately thought about that relaxing therapy I had in Thailand many years ago where they put hot rocks on your back. Little did I know how dead wrong I was.
The massage was very nice, loosened all the muscles on my back. Didn't realize I had so many knots back there. Then came the shocker. Instead of rocks, the masseuse took out this clay thingy that generates heat and started running it up and down my back. The passage wasn't smooth. Even I can feel it. That means there are blockages in the flow of energy. The fact that the skin on my back reddens immediately tells her that I also have a lot of heat in my system.
Was it painful? Definitely! I had gone from being all relaxed to being tensed all over again but when she stopped there was a nice, soothing tingling on my back and I can actually feel the blood flow. Wow!
The verdict? I have plumbing problems. Take care of that and I should have a healthier body.
When I checked out my back in the mirror, it looked like someone had been riding a bicycle over it. Yech! No backless tops for me for a few days.
Watch Out......I'm Naked!
I'm not one to balk about taking my clothes off in front of people, as long as it's the right company ;) Girlfriends who go on holidays with me will find me walking around our hotel room in my unmentionables. And I don't mind sharing a dressing room with friends in shopping malls. It beats waiting in line for an available dressing room, especially if there's a sale.
So it was with some amusement for me to watch my friend squeal and run off when I started to take my top off in our hotel room. That despite the all female company. Earlier she had confessed to us how traumatized she was when she had to take her clothes off at her doctor's office.
I wonder how she would have reacted had she been in my shoes many years back when I had my surgery, having to expose my boobs first to a doctor, then a surgeon, and finally, the surgeon and his team. Granted, I wasn't so cavalier about it back then, but I didn't have a choice.
Anyway, she managed to snap this pic before running off :D
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)