Monday 15 December 2014

The email that broke my heart

My dearest sis,

My cancer cells in my stomach area has spread it is like a weed now n also  in my lungs.

I hv been out of chemo 21/2 months lady was end of April .

Though I stopped chemo but I choose alternative medicine n also tried acupuncture . I am happy going for acupuncture .

Now that after the scan results is worst I am asked to continue chemo treatment by my own oncology .
To tell you something  I hv given up hope !

I don't see any hope for me to continue chemo except I ll be more weak and sick going for chemo !

I am in pain dear I took painkiller and it is form of morphine.

Suddenly I feel I hv no use to anybody anymore I don't look forward to anything anymore

I told God I'm ready ..

I don't know how long I can handle my pain seriously I am so tired of being sick ..

If I go out to friends place I  always the topic of discussion n I hate it ..
Please help me  I am so sad now ..

Thursday 27 November 2014

Errr

So I lost 3kg (in 2 months at that) and dengan penuh tak sedar diri, joined Tinder. And after more than a week, I've only had one match.

We have 3 mutual friends, one of em is an ex I'm still friendly with. So korek punya korek, this guy was the housemate of the ex when they were in Newcastle. Not only that, I have also unknowingly dated another one of his housemates at Newcastle.

The world is too freaking small.

Nextttt.

Thursday 20 November 2014

Wednesday 19 November 2014

Achievement Unlocked.


Been on my back for days - alone, unfortunately - but hey, at least I'm on top of the latest twitter dramas. Yes, plural. You'd need a chart just to figure out who's on the out with whom and who are in which team. And then, there's the new fake accounts to keep track of. Plus the need to cross-reference with a few blogs too.

But I'm up to date. Sorta. Achievement unlocked. There are a few previous dramas that are brought up but I can't be arsed to investigate.

My intelligent observations:

1. NinaK should really be NinaC. Sounds the same at any rate and definitely behaves like one. 

2. Malaysia's top architect *snorts* is not #TegasSepertiRafa. If Rafa's wife komplen benda bukan-bukan, Rafa tak banyak cakap terus rampas tipon and suruh jerang air buat kopi NOW!

3. Top architect benda bayar income tax 9k/year je.







 

Y Bother Nok?

I've just realised this is the most depressing, not to mention boring blog I've ever read. Heck, even the tomyam bloggers are more entertaining. Wot happened to me?

This is not imaginary.

This morning a random cab driver offered me a Hacks due to my incessant coughing. I almost lost it.

I've been really sick this time, a week today and I've been feeling really sorry for myself.

The last time I was this sick, Kak J came over to take me to the clinic. This time round, I had to drive myself. I must have spent 5 minutes crying before I even started driving.

What an ungrateful bitch.

I have loads of female support. One helped call the cafe downstairs to order food for me cause I've lost my voice and too sick to go out. One gave me rides back from work. And a few over the years  have helped me financially when things got really bad. And of course the ketat kemban gang who listened, sympathised and entertained me over the years.

My closest friends are not girls I went to school or uni with but ladies I met online some 7 years ago. We haven't known each other that long but somehow we're close. No subject is taboo.

I'm grateful.

Monday 17 November 2014

Word

Letting someone use you is stupid. But that doesnt negate the fact that the user is an arsehole.

Thursday 13 November 2014

The truth

When a girl starts telling you wot she's not happy about it either means she's secure enough or dont give a fuck anymore.

Friday 7 November 2014

*snorts*

After almost two years of datang bawak telor je, tonight he came bearing a carton of OJ. Are we getting serious?

Thursday 6 November 2014

Shooh

Smug young people are annoying.

That is all.

#BlameGerrard is in

Dont think it's fair to blame Gerrard for slipping one time. Just like it's not fair to ship Riise off for that own goal. But wot do I know?

Dont wait up

Going into depression.

Tuesday 4 November 2014

Life and Death

Should I change handles? There are some fun friends there. But then, they are not exactly good friends. Just Happy Hour friends. Unlike those I made via blogging.

Dream a lil dream

Country Cottage look, white with dashes of brilliant reds and dark pinks. 
 

Sad

Things will never change. If you're young, slim, fair; you can be an absolute bitch and men would still have your back.

Perhaps an explanation is required.

One, I never said I wanted Gerrard to play even if it means we go down the table. Where did that come from? I've waited since 1990.

Two, when I said respect Gerrard, I didn't mean he's above criticism. I only meant there's no need to be nasty to someone who has helped the team so much.

Three, yes I am old. That was mean of you lot. 

That is all.

Dream

Not bad, this.

Twitter is no longer as fun as before I was mocked for weeks by a group of people who while not exactly my friends but ones who I thought were at least my ‘gang.’

Mini blogging is fun though. It’s effortless like twitter but with no character limitations. I like.

Sick

If my posts sound sombre, it’s because I have been sick the past few days. I’m not normally such a grumpy bollocks. I wish I can stay in bed. Alas, work beckons.

Redha

Earlier this season, I predicted this would be Stevie’s last season. I expected him to retire after an abysmal season. Looks like it may have been a fair prediction.

Ever since 2005, his contract renewal is a given. That is no longer true. If what I read is true, it’s the ‘corporate’ way of forcing someone out. But I didn’t expect him to play elsewhere. That would be a blow.

Having said that, if the fans can no longer even respect him, it’s not a bad idea for him to go. Perhaps somewhere lesser would appreciate him better.

Spineless

There has been someone. Ish. It’s been going on close to two years now. Pretty light stuff. We’re not that into each other. Well, he is into me, but not for the right reasons. It's very much one-sided. I’m just too polite (ha!) to just end it. ‘It’ being whatever it is. ‘Whatever it is’ not being good enough, not for me anyway. We should have just remained friends. Now the resentment is getting in the way.

Regrets I have a few.

My beautiful sister passed away last year in Seattle. 22 August 2013.

Growing up, I alternatively loved, hated, worshipped, feared and envied her. She was the golden child. The beautiful (there’s no comparison really), the glamorous MAS stewardess, the beauty queen, the TVC talent.

Makcik-makcik have always done the ‘sorang lawa, sorang pandai’ route.

I have always been insecure by the comparison. It was only as adults that I realised she was affected too. “You are so clever, sis . I’m uneducated”

Growing up, we weren’t friends. She was the garang older sister, I was the crybaby brat.

After her second divorce, I was the only one she confided in. I was the only one who knew the real reason. We became friends since. We’re both adults coping with an indifferent mother. We both had to make our own way in life because the parental support wasn’t there.

We’re chalk and cheese. She was a proper lady, doesn’t even swear. We were into different things. She doesn’t even know who Robbie Fowler is:)

But we were as close as two sisters can be. Nothing is sacred. Not even sex. I learnt about (how to achieve) female orgasm from her.

But I was still a brat. Didn’t even send her off at the airport when she migrated in Dec 2011. Because I didn’t want her to go. Plus  I couldn’t face the barrage of irritating relatives.

I regret that so much. She left with colon cancer stage 3. I shouldn’t have been so selfish.

We did have our private goodbye though. Just the two of us. Dinner and a long chat. Light stuff though. No heart rendering stuff.

That was the last time I saw her.

She’s always been positive around me, doing the older sister act. So eventhough she was on chemo 3 days/week, it was always, ‘Don’t worry. I’m ok. I’m getting better.”

We keep saying we miss each other and we will meet again. Either me going there, or she coming back. But I was broke, starting over again after a failed venture.

And she doesn’t look sick at all. She still looks like Kak J.

A few weeks before raya, came a heartwrenching email. It was then I knew she was dying. Because for the first time since her diagnosis, she didn’t pull the ‘Don’t worry. I’m ok.’

I took a proper look at her pictures and saw the difference. Others would say she still looks the same.  But I knew.

Here’s the thing. She never told Mom that she had cancer. I respected her wishes.
But when I knew she was dying, how could I not tell Mom? She deserves to know, to pray for her golden child.

So I told Mom that Kak J was dying on the eve of Raya. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. She was cooking and didn’t seem to react.Later I found out from a cousin she rang her to find out what the story is cause I was crying too much to make much sense.

That night she told me that a few weeks earlier she dreamt both Tok Wan and Yennayenni Grandma came over to tell her, ‘We’re taking J back with us.”

Selamat Hari Malaysia 2014

3 of my grandparents were immigrants, from 3 different countries, 3 different languages. Perhaps that’s why my maternal grandparents dont talk to each other.

Im grateful to be a Malaysian. Our family jokes that if the grandparents hadnt migrated, the only way we could have lived in this country is as maids, hookers or know-it-all strat planners.

I dont quite like d idea of Bangsa Malaysia. I dont like being lumped together as one. No fun. I like that we are all different and can still enjoy being together. That’s more special innit?

Why be colour blind when we can bask in glorious colours? My friends are made up of people of different backgrounds who brighten up my life in different ways. MU fans for instance are good fodder for laughs.

Embrace our differences. Soak up the varieties. Learn to swear in all languages.

Be happy that none of us are maids, hookers or know-it-all strat planners.

Selamat Hari Malaysia uols.

Mad or Bad?


Luis Alberto Suarez Diaz. Love him or hate him, you can’t deny he’s a football genius.

The passion, the skill, the talent: tinged with the occasional bouts of madness. Occasional, fortunately, but mega, unfortunately.

I’m not here to defend him, nor to excuse his behaviour. I’m trying to understand the inner turmoil of a flawed genius.

His father deserted the family when he was 7 (or was it 12?) years old. From my observation, most kids from a broken home are damaged in some way. Facing perceived rejection from a parent at an early age is bound to affect you in some way.

Now combine this with acute poverty. The literal hunger, so to speak.

There was a lady in my kampung whose husband deserted her and their 8 kids. She went around with a bowl, asking for beras to feed her kids. Beras! Not dishes. This is real poverty. Not having enough money for food, let alone football boots.

Suarez went through a childhood of not knowing where his next meal is coming from. It wasn’t until he met Sofia, whose parents fed him, that he started to eat regularly.

When Suarez first moved to Montevideo from Salto, people laughed at his kampung accent. That’s probably the least of it. And with that teeth, his childhood couldn’t have been pretty. Pun intended.

Lesser people from the same background would probably crumble and join the drug cartel. But this is Suarez. He’s not another ordinary kid.

He managed to find love. And what a great love story it is. A love story that catapulted the boy who played ball with no shoes to a world class player who is equally revered and hated.
*******************
Luisito is only 27. Those fatherless, poverty ridden years are not that long ago.
He could probably still taste the desperation, the literal hunger.

Perhaps deep down he fears having to go back to that kind of poverty. Maybe that is the demon that haunts him when the red mist attacks, spurring him to bite.

Perhaps a part of him feels guilty for doing so well. Perhaps a part of him still sees himself as that poor, jeered kid. Maybe that’s why he sabotaged himself.

Or perhaps, as the case is with a lot of  geniuses, he suffers from mild autism, like Asperger. Perhaps that explains why he did what he did without provocation.

He was the last of the family to move to Montevideo because he doesn’t like change. That’s another symptom. A lot of people with such condition go through life undetected, only perceived as ‘awkward/difficult’ by those around them.

The only flaw with the last theory is, surely by now Zhaf Iqbal and Co would have found out.

Perhaps it’s a combination of all three. The poverty-ridden years, his father’s desertion and definitely some form of mental illness issue.

What he did was wrong. But that doesn’t discount what a great addition to Liverpool he was.

We could have won the league if he wasn’t banned from Ivanovich case. But we also wouldn’t have finished No 2 without him in the team.

His teammates like him. He is devoted to his family. In Uruguay, he is Robbie Fowler.
He is not a bad person.

He didn’t go around raping your daughter, setting fire to your family home or robbing geriatrics.

Have some perspective. Have some compassion.

As the great Kenny Dalglish – the most compassionate person in football said: “Some people have injuries we can’t see.”  

Luka di hati siapa yang tahu?

Whether Suarez stays or not, he will always have a special place in my heart. He will always have my respect as one of the greatest strikers to grace Anfield. He made football fun again. The football world would be a greyer place without Luis Alberto Suarez Diaz on any pitch.

I for one, will always root for him, wherever he plays. And I hope he will be able to put the demon that plagues him away.

Lastly, kan dah cakap, lain kali jangan gigit orang. Panggil cunt takpe.