This is my last entry for the month. So by the time you finish reading this, you’ve finished reading it.
Frog-full Night August 23, 2002
Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! (ad infinitum)
Damn frogs. As if I’m not demented enough already. For the past two nights, those –insert favourite expletive– KATAKS have terrorized my slumber by their insistent cries. And these ain’t that of two or three cute, green frogs… I tell you, there seems to be like a million of them out there having a mass karaoke session! Grrrrr… If I could, I’d like to cincangggg durang satu-satu bikin sup tirog (er, stew them). But being a helpless good person, incapable of doing neither harm nor evil, I just lay in bed pretending to be a deaf grandmama–and silently prayed that the snakes would annihilate them.
Missing Cat August 21, 2002
My tomcat hasn’t showed up since Sunday and I’m getting restless… I’ve searched high and low but still no sign of his beloved whiskers. He doesn’t go too far usually. Has he eloped?? Is he sick and dying somewhere? or Has he been swallowed by a snake (plenty of ‘em around here)? Or maybe he just couldn’t find his way home… Aaargh! It drives me crazy not to know!
4:30AM Sunday August 18, 2002
Yes, there is something perverted about waking up at 4:30 am on a Sunday. Unless, of course, you have joggings to do, dogs to run, rubber trees to tap, vertical meditation to perform with a certain holy book to read or faraway tamus (village markets) to go, etc… I woke up for none of the above reasons except that my brain was doing an early jig and my eyelids were twitching to the rhythm. That leaves me no choice but to go ahead with the day: check e-mails, do laundry, clean nest, and if I get lucky, do some work at the office. Hmph. It’s gonna be a wonnnnnderful day and my tongue bids you the same.
Hairdresser and Hairdressing August 16, 2002
And so to echo Ecclesiastes, there is time for everything: A time to work and a time to play. A time to praise and a time to complain. A time to look smart and act otherwise. A time to rush then plenty of time to regret… (Oh, have fun making up the rest, baba). But certainly it’s time for a haircut when tucking your shaggy fringes behind the ears for the millionth time is no longer a sexy gesture but a matter of saving your eyeballs from getting scratched or punctured. Yet what was intended to be an innocent ‘trimming and layering’ session at the nearby hair saloon ended up with at least two extra inches of my mane unnecessarily chopped off. Grrr! Bad communication partly to blame. But then there were times when even a detailed request complete with yaya!-macam-itu-gambar-sana-mukasurat10-aah reference, you rarely get what you exactly wanted. Either it’s too short or still too long, uneven, too curly, too red, ad infinitum. Hm. Maybe it’s just me. Nevertheless, the point is: Beware the hairdresser, for you’ll never… (you know the rest, baba).
The Cottage August 14, 2002
Last night, I own a cottage surrounded by sunflowers and a variety of wildflowers in lilac blue, purple and other oh!whacamacallit shades of blue. A strange house but I felt peculiarly at home. Kind of reminded me when I was a kid. Home was a place to run back to after the games ended and the friends left. An equivalent to that now would be a space to let your hair down (kutu and all) without fear of what others would think… Well, it turned out that MY cottage was only a dream. Flowers and all. But there is this bitter-sweet impression that stayed long afterwards. It’s kinda disturbing. Hmmm… *ponder*ponder* And speakin’ of disturbing (very!): Have you had the kind of dream where your favourite dish (think rendang, satay, fish head asam laksa, etc) was being prepared only to be awoken from your unconscious state drooling? Argh!! Give me a million heart-thumping dreams about snakes, giant worms or falling into the arms of Gintak Gabui but please, please, no more emotion-wrenching dreams!
Jatujak Market August 11, 2002
Shopping at Jatujak (weekend) market is both an exhilarating and exhausting experience. I doubt I can finish exploring every interesting nooks and crooks of that huge, open air (albeit shaded) area in one day. If you’re easily boggled like me, it is advisable to list you needs and wants beforehand. And stick to it, darnit! *pat thin wallet* Fortunately, I was not too inspired over Jatujak shopping today. Instead, I meekly mingled with the crowd, despite the heat and the sweat, browsing and combing the areas within the limitation of my lower limbs. Three hours later, I got a box of sweet-smelling incense sticks (half-heartedly bought) and two pairs of salana katak. Of course, there are plenty other goods worthy of your money: beautiful art works, leather goods, apparel, pets, plants, souvenirs, b-b-qed pig heads, on and on goes the list… But I’ll leave those to wiser shoppers. The fact is I get disoriented and frustrated easily when left with too many choices/options. And since I lack time, I deem my santuts and sweet-smelling sticks as worthy acquisitions for the day.
Exposure August 10, 2002
Some more exposure on Madam Ah Lian and her infamous cat. (Warning: Contains explicit images. Heh!)
Will August 6, 2002
If there is a will, there is a way.
Hm… Is there a way to lick your own elbow? Anyone?
Memories August 4, 2002
Bad memories are like dried cow manure. The stink refreshes with each new rain [that comes in form of a *liar, a *liar and a *liar]. Some memories are so blatant, they resembles a pair of fluorescent orange underwear. It’s irritating how your emotions respond shamelessly to such nostalgic bs all over again. May the Force inflict these forked-tongue ngoks with simultaneous twitching of the eyebrows and lips until… *pants* Ouch, my poor, silly heart…
*substitute with nouns of your choice
