tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7479481499980385972024-03-14T20:34:50.990+08:00Penny TravellerI'm a curious person with an appetite for fun and adventure.Thus this serves as the canvas to remind me of the great times I had and for you to read about some little travel talessacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-69417490236168175782014-09-01T19:47:00.004+08:002014-09-02T16:25:46.729+08:00Writing through the times<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I loved to write ever since I can remember. I would write short stories inspired by other short stories I loved to read while growing up, sometimes write quotes, pretending to be a great philosopher (haha, I know eye-roll) and now that I'm an adult I rediscovered writing again commercially for print (not so fun, because not every clients' work is creative) and writing & publishing my travel stories in different magazines. Sometimes the writing would be in the form of a loose poem, when I feel emotionally moved while picturing myself in the shoes of others, or sometimes through my own experiences. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">These are today's scribbles....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feel Again</span></i></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">I still remember what it was like</span><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">To stare into someone’s eyes</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">And realise the vulnerable, </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">heavy feeling</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">To care for him with all my might</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">To reach a point where I stopped counting</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">If he would return my feelings</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Because it mattered more</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">To just let go</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And shower him</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">With the depth of my emotions.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Then I realised</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">How beautiful it was to possess the capability to love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Someone without blood ties</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A feeling so selfless I never knew I had</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And also fearfully realise how vulnerable I am</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Like a floating dandelion</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Unsure of where I’ll land.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">look into your eyes now</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And I almost feel the same again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">You don’t know I’m holding back</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A reservoir of emotions </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I am not ready to feel again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Once the floodgates open</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">There will be no holding back</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I don’t know how to love with conditions </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It is either like the present moment</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I hold back and not love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Or I let go of my fears</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And allow myself to feel again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And fall in love with you with all my heart</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Wait for me and let me take my time</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I can see the edge and I’m walking there</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Wait for me when I’m at the edge</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I will open my arms wide</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And free fall into love again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>**********************</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>Dreams</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What’s standing between you and I, my Dreams?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">How is it I can see what you look like, so beautiful,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">Shimmering across the sea, beyond reach.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">You taunt me, telling me you could be mine</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">People tell me you are possible</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">I believe you can be mine</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">Yet I have little clue how to make you mine</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">I see myself travelling</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">With pockets full to make a living</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">I weave through cultures</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">And explore hidden streets</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">And every nook and corner</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">My work I created thrives</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">It sends me further</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">More reason to travel</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">With a loved one</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">Sharing the same passion for life</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">The same love for God</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">And the same yearning to explore</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">So what’s really standing between you and I, my Dreams?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">Is it fear of letting go what I have now,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">To swim through unchartered waters</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">To reach you?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">I do not want to have a near death moment</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">To realise I should have plunged for you all along</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">Oh God, tell me where do I start</span><br /><span style="font-size: 13px;">So I can finally live my dreams.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-86649328160408628232011-05-26T01:25:00.000+08:002011-05-26T01:25:37.298+08:00MindtrapMind clouded sense astray<br />
What truth gets through your way?<br />
Dialogue, cajoling, heckling, threats<br />
Disperse like vapour in heat<br />
<br />
Mind warped in steel<br />
Sealed from inside's will<br />
Only you can hear the truth<br />
If you let the locks be moved<br />
<br />
Mind afloat in fantasy<br />
Reality keeps on living<br />
Time still keeps passing<br />
See how much you're losing<br />
If you refuse to wake up.<br />
Why not drop the sick desires<br />
And greet realitysacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-77336064163866225102011-05-26T00:51:00.000+08:002011-05-26T00:51:14.536+08:00Counting the daysHave you felt work droning on an on, blending weekdays together in a mish mash? Sometimes, my Monday gets mixed with Tuesday, or was it Wednesday, no wait it's just Monday, I catch myself confused sometimes. And when I do reach the real Wednesday, it does feel like I've passed the half way mark of a marathon (not that I ever did one :P ). When Friday finally comes, I do sometimes feel like I just crawled out from a blender, covered in squishy slime that is pieces and bits of work, information, meetings, conversations, emails, calls, texts, more meetings and emails... and see the big blue sea called <em>weekend</em> stretched ahead of me :)<br />
<br />
And in the space of the big blue sea my body is alive again and the mind is alert. Aware of every hour, every minute that passes, precious time slipping through the fingers like fine sand. Then my mind sets adrift thinking of all the stuff I want to catch up on, movies, that magazine lying somewhere, that dusty half-read book on the table, oh my dog needs a bath... a trip... oh yes... why not a trip? Weekend's a little too short, will have to save this plan for later then... Why does the juicy parts of life always gets put away. It seems like the moments I look forward to nowadays are far shorter than the horrid journeys taken to reach the moment. And all too soon the moment passes again.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I need a paradigm shift. Perhaps my so called <em>horrid days</em> are not really horrid at all, I just can't see how exciting they are. As exciting as my next holiday ( already I can hear my mind sarcastically screaming <em>yea right ). </em>Or perhaps, just maybe, my days are really horrid. And it needs to be changed, pronto. Then I wouldn't have to end my lovely weekend on an abrupt full stop, it will continue throughout the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. One endless seven coloured rainbow of days. Wishful thinking? I'm praying hard it's not, and I'll find the formula :)sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-76105393053308851902011-03-21T14:06:00.000+08:002011-03-21T14:06:41.391+08:00The College Days..I wanna be a college student again!! <br />
Where I did assignments because I liked it<br />
Nobody is my boss because if I fail I answer to myself<br />
If I do well I praise myself<br />
Where money was always short<br />
but I wasn't afriad to find 101 odd jobs<br />
Where life spread out like a big dream before it got tainted<br />
Where all seemed hopeful, doubts were few....sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-89521021587527525112010-09-09T17:14:00.000+08:002010-09-09T17:14:03.759+08:00Vietnam - An odd collection of pixIt's been quite some time since I headed down to Vietnam, I just couldn't find the time to write about it. <br />
<br />
So I think I'll upload pix instead and let them do most of the talking. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words isn't it? But then again some say pictures are also very misleading so I will oblige with one or two comments for the pictures.<br />
<br />
Vietnam, I'm not quite sure how to describe it in one word. I went to the south - Ho Chi Minh City and the surrounding region of My Tho and Can Tho. It's not exactly a touristy place but if simply observing another way of life is your cup of tea, Vietnam is for you.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqOF5dXx-ehEQB2kIqpASube4COkxI25sxho9mFKQuhT9H_eof_47X8aQrCmzDi0ZxcLpzrbMwJtsAbN1URNqagBHooC96_JIzCQGXNfPJwWE3c1jIq0jxY0d5DRXroXEjhcsHoaLT6yK/s1600/IMG_9113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqOF5dXx-ehEQB2kIqpASube4COkxI25sxho9mFKQuhT9H_eof_47X8aQrCmzDi0ZxcLpzrbMwJtsAbN1URNqagBHooC96_JIzCQGXNfPJwWE3c1jIq0jxY0d5DRXroXEjhcsHoaLT6yK/s640/IMG_9113.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div align="center">Somewhere in town, I chanced upon a road that sells just shoes, shoes, shoes. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HfNl0Kx5nfKMLgZBDFfiM-PwernH2DTdXIpMXISKl66gbAW-6hduF5bbM6BJkzYz-ZSUCwQsr3RpUICa8RNTm2OjbcZ5aLL25C6wj1I88QVcK-jkTByWC2BkD2bAahnuWZiDo6eDxJ_F/s1600/IMG_9212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HfNl0Kx5nfKMLgZBDFfiM-PwernH2DTdXIpMXISKl66gbAW-6hduF5bbM6BJkzYz-ZSUCwQsr3RpUICa8RNTm2OjbcZ5aLL25C6wj1I88QVcK-jkTByWC2BkD2bAahnuWZiDo6eDxJ_F/s640/IMG_9212.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div align="center">I've had many bad dreams where I held a gun but it wouldn't fire at the most critical moment. Needless to say, the experience of being able to fire a real gun with live bullets has put a long haunting dream to rest.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuKNlmi6aATQXvoAaZfH9mDoqluuxoa9wV7AQ1jrDO15AIAFozUer_DmIuvksVmISybBH2GPQRdtfK-mEsugu4iBVRUa7TvfLHkwI6kYkePuhiH0XUTqvCn5U5bEl6qtZYIMV0TSO1_fv/s1600/IMG_9430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuKNlmi6aATQXvoAaZfH9mDoqluuxoa9wV7AQ1jrDO15AIAFozUer_DmIuvksVmISybBH2GPQRdtfK-mEsugu4iBVRUa7TvfLHkwI6kYkePuhiH0XUTqvCn5U5bEl6qtZYIMV0TSO1_fv/s640/IMG_9430.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">She's a beauty. But she doesn't know her fate, being beautiful has a price to pay. Unfortunately, she will be skinned when the time is right.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDE_kb5JSrSZz4Oo7gtSnWDVIwW6Y-vYmaYnMzca69g1HD2PxpnoEIjO73yfsB-mPz3W9hU_Ke0ohE7-Bg-g8ghy8Un-vpyrfT7Pel_j-IdPy_4ZMOZl6aPaYE_uw56lbZeO9_oo3BRPtk/s1600/IMG_9440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDE_kb5JSrSZz4Oo7gtSnWDVIwW6Y-vYmaYnMzca69g1HD2PxpnoEIjO73yfsB-mPz3W9hU_Ke0ohE7-Bg-g8ghy8Un-vpyrfT7Pel_j-IdPy_4ZMOZl6aPaYE_uw56lbZeO9_oo3BRPtk/s640/IMG_9440.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">First time on a bike with my friend. I signed up for a homestay. They separated us on two bikes. I wondered if I'd be kidnapped as we winded through village roads. It makes me wonder how I could be so trusting, but oh well thk God all was well.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuYj6oMLUIJPqnwIWn4nQmuIspZDzNts9kcsqQWaOZftWYlT_ujWTz8KQHJhOesiAlJdBPr5p4Hwg039h7Y17yLMyDqJ1ADA09qXToWK0M0i3aUmiY7hL1vgkTH4-A9JiDpr2-vOiaT3s/s1600/IMG_9447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuYj6oMLUIJPqnwIWn4nQmuIspZDzNts9kcsqQWaOZftWYlT_ujWTz8KQHJhOesiAlJdBPr5p4Hwg039h7Y17yLMyDqJ1ADA09qXToWK0M0i3aUmiY7hL1vgkTH4-A9JiDpr2-vOiaT3s/s640/IMG_9447.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My homestay room. This is actually not a true reflection of their life. The host actually stays in a brick home haha.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysA2_dqC60LKuqr0c895oh6ihAfGZwX9t2nJe1ANknpBB6un1eKM9doOW-xqGaX4x-MUESxOZxznUlMB6kxQ-GcAr0J5cNmVZa7lplxCi2ECrIAauLwbmrPg9p7OWTvPEZH7vSVeXSIkl/s1600/IMG_9498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysA2_dqC60LKuqr0c895oh6ihAfGZwX9t2nJe1ANknpBB6un1eKM9doOW-xqGaX4x-MUESxOZxznUlMB6kxQ-GcAr0J5cNmVZa7lplxCi2ECrIAauLwbmrPg9p7OWTvPEZH7vSVeXSIkl/s640/IMG_9498.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The people you might meet during a homnestay. So happened all of them are dutch. One of them has a pretty cool job as a private pilot. Guess which one?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLqPKncyR-WJv05dJc4SNHSejVXo_h_f7nZyVf25oLDfAWrP08tQVm1CGOL7ZF3qBd5MNaGxMtVmHdd21K-95cfsZySd8MWAFUj4kXtkP3FAZfA1kUYNGGUwUk6cgVKXH4TKe1aoF-RkQ/s1600/IMG_9564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLqPKncyR-WJv05dJc4SNHSejVXo_h_f7nZyVf25oLDfAWrP08tQVm1CGOL7ZF3qBd5MNaGxMtVmHdd21K-95cfsZySd8MWAFUj4kXtkP3FAZfA1kUYNGGUwUk6cgVKXH4TKe1aoF-RkQ/s640/IMG_9564.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I didn't plan on buying art-pieces but this one just hooked me. I fell hard for her mesmerizing gaze. If you're interested to purchase, drop me a comment.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tomorrow is a public holiday in Malaysia, hence my pre-holiday laziness to type. If you'd rather read a proper write-up click here :P </div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://imag.com.my/invigorate_content.php?articleId=987e3bbc2b39e4d9c98705c50db2340a">the longer writeup on Ho Chi Minh City</a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-44623165923710956332010-07-31T05:38:00.001+08:002010-07-31T05:38:43.944+08:00Broken Run<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I count my lucky stars everyday<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I take a ride with positivism<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I run a steady run<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Smiling ever ready<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Sharp rocks seem like pebbles<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">White waters like streams<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I count my lucky stars everyday<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Because I can still see the silver lining<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But I am tested oh so badly<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When I see the closest to me<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Who seemingly don’t deserve it<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Has life handed on a golden platter<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">If it were a stranger<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I’d shake my head and run on<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Saying our lives are two worlds apart<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Maybe they had it harsh, now God smiles on them<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">If it were a friend<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I’d shake my head but wish him well<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The wheel of fortune visits you<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I hope it notices my sweat<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And gives me a good turn of fortune soon<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But if it were my kin of blood<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The world now seems imbalance<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I wish I could wish her well<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But it stumps me to know<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">How dreams which you wish upon yourself<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Dreams you work hard for<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And never achieved<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Can be granted unto another<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Who has hardly broke a sweat<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Yet been dealt a card of luck<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">By the very hand that feeds us both<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">How now do I run<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">How do I run<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">With a smile<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As if the day has never changed<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It seems as if all the principles I swear my life by<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now seem broken<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now seem to laugh back at me<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Did life cheat me<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Or did I cheat myself?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Did God blink for a moment<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And in the short darkness<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Life as I knew it came to a halt<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Mighty friend, father, creator<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You know the beginning and the end<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You hold the secrets for every event<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You know why you made things the way they are<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Never do I want to doubt you<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I always said I pledge my faith in you<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But punish me not<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">For today I broke my steady run<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My ride with positivism came to a halt<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And ask you why<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Is <i>my turn </i>ever going to come<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Why was it in your story<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The prodigal son had more<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Than the one who stayed<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Today I can’t remember the ending to that story<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><o:p><br />
</o:p></div></span>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-80777670585470800182010-03-20T21:36:00.001+08:002010-03-20T22:08:27.924+08:00Kedondong Waterfalls - My second Waterfall Survivors TripFrom my last trip with <a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=11685812&id=651805724#%21/group.php?gid=17696439707&ref=ts">Waterfall Survivors</a>, I decided it's time to make another one. This time it was to Kedondong Waterfalls, somewhere between the Selangor and Pahang border.<br />
<br />
It was an early which started out very wrong, but ended pretty well!<br />
The wrong things:<br />
#1 Opening the car door and stepping straight into a pothole filled with dirty water<br />
#2 Being at the wrong meetup point<br />
#3 Upon rushing to the right meetup point, got stuck in a standstill jam on MRR2 because of a horrific accident<br />
#4 Since we were late, we took down the coordinates of the waterfall and drove ourselves there with the help of three trusty GPS enable Nokia phones<br />
#5 Did I just say trusty? The signals for each phone went on and off. We are now left to manually navigate using the map. Good luck to us, there are not many landmarks in the map because we're driving through forested areas.<br />
#6 We can't call for navigation help because we are using a different route from the group who drove earlier. Our GPS told us this is the better/shorter way.<br />
#7 Oh, did I mention, my friend in the backseat blurted out that his friend who is not on the trip texted him to say that she dreamt something bad happened to him. Encouraging indeed! <br />
#8 <b>There is <u>no #8 </u></b>because after this it was fun all the way :D!! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136040910725_651805724_11686125_6142818_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136040910725_651805724_11686125_6142818_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Beautiful! The trek was actually pretty simple.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The water was icy chilly though since we're located pretty close to Genting Highlands</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136041120725_651805724_11686162_7810462_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136041120725_651805724_11686162_7810462_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The water continues its rush downwards...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xJU-IRMdn1Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xJU-IRMdn1Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Funnily enough this trek was simple but because there was a lot of broken bamboo along the way, this is the result... (Not meant to scare anyone, by all means go and have a safe fun trip! This did not happen to other people..) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136041210725_651805724_11686176_5049574_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136041210725_651805724_11686176_5049574_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Scratch #1 Along the knee</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136041215725_651805724_11686177_7245607_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136041215725_651805724_11686177_7245607_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Scratch # 2. Along the calf. And a bruise too caused by a loose rock rolling down the slope and whacking my calf in the process</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136041220725_651805724_11686178_1348280_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="482" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136041220725_651805724_11686178_1348280_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Scratch + Bruise #3. Probably the most painful of all. There was a hidden broken bamboo trunk facing upwards and reaching the height of my thigh. Thank god I didn't walk that fast.. or else.. impaled? :P</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I would still go trekking and enjoy the outdoors anytime :D</div>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-78725855108298385702010-03-20T20:50:00.001+08:002010-03-20T21:04:05.602+08:00On an Impromptu trip to Penang<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Bored and looking for a quick trip, I jumped at the chance of going to Penang, <strike>Pearl</strike> Food Belly of the Orient.<br />
<br />
Since I'm not going to be hanging in my room much accept to sleep and freshen up, I opted for a cheap but clean option - Tune Hotels, by the ever famous AirAsia which has constantly rained us with every possible as cheap and as practical as you can get product.<br />
<br />
I did not know what to expect but thought it should be akin to <a href="http://www.fragrancehotel.com/">Fragrance Hotel</a> in Singapore, a budget hotel which I previously stayed in.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030200725_651805724_11685809_8258370_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030200725_651805724_11685809_8258370_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">This is pretty much the entire room. Just like taking an AirAsia flight, you pay for what you use. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Need a towel? Pay.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Need hairdryer? Pay.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Need the Air-Cond? Pay. Oh I forgot, would it be for 12 hours or 24 hours?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Brought funky gadgets and you need wifi? Pay</div><div style="text-align: center;">Otherwise, you will have a nice clean room with comfy bed ready and a really good power shower head :) </div><div style="text-align: center;">The bare necessities, done really well.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030205725_651805724_11685810_7481046_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030205725_651805724_11685810_7481046_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I wonder if they used recycled paper to print this?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136030220725_651805724_11685812_6211403_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs460.ash1/25299_10150136030220725_651805724_11685812_6211403_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bathroom is pretty big for a budget hotel. It's half the size of your room and much bigger than the one I had in Fragrance Hotel Singapore. Won-dah-ful! I like a good shower without bumping into the walls.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030215725_651805724_11685811_4877398_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030215725_651805724_11685811_4877398_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030225725_651805724_11685813_6399336_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030225725_651805724_11685813_6399336_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">But there's one thing which annoys me...</div><div style="text-align: center;">See that ad in the bathroom?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030245725_651805724_11685815_1595869_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030245725_651805724_11685815_1595869_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> And another ad here, just in case money matters makes you lose sleep</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030250725_651805724_11685816_6631523_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030250725_651805724_11685816_6631523_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">But maybe it's not $$ problems you're losing sleep over, you're just hungry, you poor baby...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030260725_651805724_11685817_3557277_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030260725_651805724_11685817_3557277_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And to remind you you're in the right hotel - <a href="http://www.tunehotels.com/">Tune Hotels</a>!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh by the way, KDK fans keep you cool, so we needed to put their ad here too...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Garrrhhh,I thought I paid for a peaceful night's rest.. stop bombarding me with ADVERTISING! </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>******</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030275725_651805724_11685819_5256788_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030275725_651805724_11685819_5256788_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">While taking a walk on Gurney Road, I passed by this old mansion. So beautiful, reminiscence of the olden romantic colonial era. They should put up a board to explain its history. Or else I might have to give in to my curiosity, break in and wonder the grounds.. nyehehe</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030280725_651805724_11685820_4854683_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030280725_651805724_11685820_4854683_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Pretty and mysterious...Wonderfully kept garden (which I just noticed while typing) so someone must still be looking out for this mansion</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
***</div><div style="text-align: center;">On the way to gobble Penang's delights, I chanced upon a petshop. And they had that garrafura (is that what it's called??) fish which supposedly eat dirt and dead skin. And it costs RM 25 per 40 mins (yeh, Penang is a heaven for everything cheap..) compared to KL which charge nothing less than RM 35 </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030285725_651805724_11685821_3787446_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030285725_651805724_11685821_3787446_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I hovered my fat legs above the pool first because I just realised, damn the fish were kinda BiG to be doing a small nibble job, ain't it?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030300725_651805724_11685823_55265_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030300725_651805724_11685823_55265_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My cousin shows me the way it's done.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Don't think too much, plonk your feet inside, banish thoughts of fish eating up flesh and bone, keep still, brace the tickles (or nibbles?) and your legs should be polished clean in no time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030325725_651805724_11685828_1973894_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030325725_651805724_11685828_1973894_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After attempt no #101,100 and many squeals, I finally managed to totally immerse my feet in the water, for the fish to <strike>eat</strike>, <strike>chew</strike>, um nibble.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was the Chap Goh Meh festival that night in Penang and the locals apparently celebrate it big here. After a round of shopping at Batu Feringghi, couz and I headed down to Esplanade to see what the fuss was about. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Too bad, everyone was packing up their celebrations already. We had a little too much fun at Feringghi and couldn't keep up with time haha. So we decided to....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030365725_651805724_11685834_29632_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030365725_651805724_11685834_29632_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">CAMWHORE!!! First with the brightly lit municipal council building</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030370725_651805724_11685835_8356595_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs420.snc3/25299_10150136030370725_651805724_11685835_8356595_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next, with the birghtly litted trees along the road :D</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">You know they always say have char koay teow at Lorong Selamat?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">I found the famous stall, they charge a hefty RM 6.50 for char koay teow compared to the usual </div><div style="text-align: center;">RM 3.00-RM 3.50</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030395725_651805724_11685839_876274_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030395725_651805724_11685839_876274_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">First thing I noticed in the shop was the humongous exhaust fan. </div><div style="text-align: center;">All the better to blow the smoke away, my dear!</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030400725_651805724_11685840_407752_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs440.snc3/25299_10150136030400725_651805724_11685840_407752_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And this was my char koay teow- soft pieces of noodle, egg, big prawns and lap cheong in full glory.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But.. was it worth paying double the price?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Nope, I'm sorry aunty char koay teow-whatever-your-name-is.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-7244486438820544262010-02-03T01:28:00.003+08:002010-02-10T01:25:18.968+08:00Trekking to Dipang Waterfalls, PerakA couple of weeks back while doing the usual work crunch, I get a call from Sarawakian Danny. I had a hunch he was coming down to KL, since I couldn't think of a better reason for him to call. I was right and even better, he asked me to join him for trekking. Trekking was fine. But trekking with Danny? I was a bit unnerved. Danny is an outdoor adventurist with his own little outdoor adventure business <a href="http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=escapade+borneo&init=quick#%21/profile.php?id=100000720289779&ref=search&sid=651805724.3190989163..1">Escapade Borneo</a><br />
which is how I first came to know of him. With my city-slicker colleagues, we followed him on a 4 hour kayak trip during our Sarawak Rainforest Festival 2009 trip. Now back to the point. I imagined trekking with Danny would mean a really rough and tough terrain (what else could he enjoy?haha), so I voiced my doubts.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Err how difficult is this la?</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>How far is this trek?</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Got trail ah?</i></b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">To which he of course just said, <i><b>Don't Worry La!</b></i></div><br />
Turns out, we will be going trekking with <a href="http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=borneo+box&init=quick#/group.php?gid=17696439707&ref=ts">Waterfall Survivors</a>, a Facebook group of waterfall enthusiasts. Ironically, I have added this group on my Facebook many moons ago, hoping one day I'd be adventurous enough to join them. Well, life is funny and unpredictable, as they say<br />
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So I stared ringing a few more people who were gung-ho about outdoorsy stuff to join. To my disappointment, they each were either busy or had something else planned. The two who ended up going with me turned out to be the last two I had in mind, whom I never thought would trek into the jungle! (Sorry guys haha). It was by a stroke of luck, that I was speaking to Amy on the phone regarding some financial agent who called me because she gaveaway my number (hmmph!) and I asked her if she'd like to visit a waterfall without actually expecting her to say yes. But she said yes. A very enthusiastic <b>YES.</b><br />
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And with Allison, the other gung-ho gal, she heard from another friend whom I actually invited to go.<br />
So yes, as they say, it is fated.<br />
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On the day of the trek, I woke up at 5 am to prepare some egg and crabstick sandwiches and headed down to the meeting point in Tesco Mutiara Damansara. I did a quick survey. Some much older participants, some in their twenties and thirties. But judging from my previous experience, usually older participants are the 'experts' who really know their stuff. You don't expect your average middle age people to suddenly join a trek after all.<br />
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So we headed off in a convoy on the North South Expressway and exited at Tapah. Thereafter, it was a scrumptious breakfast in Kampar town before continuing our journey to the interior and to a school. The community here were Orang Asli, so I think the school caters to their kids.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Waterfall survivors leader Joe Yap starts off with the Do's and Don'ts though I reckon there are more Don'ts.</div><div style="text-align: center;">She then hands out the first aid kits, each one gets one, to my surprise. I am used to trips with just ONE first aid kit for the entire group.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhllxHu0AziiZV7hI2FhuykraB7gbgRnf6LFKDGCHBrks1OK-xxtpPVjF8Zqtzs2jHdC9upuV16fxFOs6wl4OIoMvlM9AaoScmUltJrnZjz07N8plY4Q7Awri5ehj9Ye-Y2thbcP1zlqHrc/s1600-h/IMG_7884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhllxHu0AziiZV7hI2FhuykraB7gbgRnf6LFKDGCHBrks1OK-xxtpPVjF8Zqtzs2jHdC9upuV16fxFOs6wl4OIoMvlM9AaoScmUltJrnZjz07N8plY4Q7Awri5ehj9Ye-Y2thbcP1zlqHrc/s640/IMG_7884.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next up, was the trail. We started very late, almost noon, and yes so we were half melting.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The head of the trail was bare, I think they had chopped the trees to make way for some other plantation.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The hot day and blue sky makes for a beautiful picture, but check out the squinted eyes on the faces below, and you know just how bright the sun was shining that day.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOmXLZU5ek0fUiVRvWzXJ8X-TLoD7wqLQ-e7QcXI2NJuTpS1VvTXjVFPzgm_ocJu9J1Ujzo4G4bfX6gXW1vj10-iGBInHjBmSquZEdQS6-Gyala811HM08WRufUAtISiQsOdCiXMrMSiD/s1600-h/IMG_7886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOmXLZU5ek0fUiVRvWzXJ8X-TLoD7wqLQ-e7QcXI2NJuTpS1VvTXjVFPzgm_ocJu9J1Ujzo4G4bfX6gXW1vj10-iGBInHjBmSquZEdQS6-Gyala811HM08WRufUAtISiQsOdCiXMrMSiD/s640/IMG_7886.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Danny, the one in shades. The reason we all changed our Saturday routine and woke up at an ungodly hour for this trip, haha.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He turned out to be a BIG help throughout the trek chopping our way with his parang and lending an outstretched hand when you feel like you're gonna do a Humpty Dumpty.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5kj6jljA_lWGWvWTLR6CU2Xt3e41jtmjgvK28KJcSiwFdj2Alhl_Z-Dm5Wk2U9cMJSo04sg2PnZP6fdOLB0x8Z9UI8nvA9TQ4WoIS9S7n87Zgdn1FONopgvPXh0dT2aIfuvj2-nCQuLl/s1600-h/IMG_7889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5kj6jljA_lWGWvWTLR6CU2Xt3e41jtmjgvK28KJcSiwFdj2Alhl_Z-Dm5Wk2U9cMJSo04sg2PnZP6fdOLB0x8Z9UI8nvA9TQ4WoIS9S7n87Zgdn1FONopgvPXh0dT2aIfuvj2-nCQuLl/s640/IMG_7889.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After a good 30 minutes, finally tall trees! Temperatures suddenly dropped to a cooling level once we got under the green canopy. Perfect example of why we need them trees to cool our planet!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7krDOfURZHLHW__6hKramjebR6K1zuuepmjBkWxBBqd0FD_LpI4lbdoeWD8Sea_0H3oEsDOa72E6pKetTYyBxIDuXzeWZeCfxt8zafGO5xisisuFMqka3cRu7kuL9TITuRBEhFhJGHC7I/s1600-h/IMG_7895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7krDOfURZHLHW__6hKramjebR6K1zuuepmjBkWxBBqd0FD_LpI4lbdoeWD8Sea_0H3oEsDOa72E6pKetTYyBxIDuXzeWZeCfxt8zafGO5xisisuFMqka3cRu7kuL9TITuRBEhFhJGHC7I/s640/IMG_7895.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The trek was not too bad, a bit slippery here and there since the ground is moist and certain parts of the terrain were slightly steep so you have to use your hands to grab on to branches or something to stable yourself. And the first reward.....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">In the picture, the rocks certainly look steeper than in real life haha. But what the picture doesn't show is that the rocks were covered in slimy moss so it was slippery enough that someone did slip and tumbled a bit.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iHNBdGqJrrN1fgbdCTFCNRcAn8q3MQ8PwQF90Ca1z1Li6yVKnMiTfOlO0Pe238DKdTYTGjIr57JWWZZznZ4JXYoe9kWo9-7R69_YN8AtZUZ4Kr8N3BSrMYlnwGgwpx-Rhvfd1krLjemG/s1600-h/IMG_7921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iHNBdGqJrrN1fgbdCTFCNRcAn8q3MQ8PwQF90Ca1z1Li6yVKnMiTfOlO0Pe238DKdTYTGjIr57JWWZZznZ4JXYoe9kWo9-7R69_YN8AtZUZ4Kr8N3BSrMYlnwGgwpx-Rhvfd1krLjemG/s640/IMG_7921.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">More trekking and the next reward...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Water is oh-so-clear everywhere...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiwTA1TllUZmMaQ-r_Mds80Q63pzbbMN6E88MpKVUCjlHEWVBzrsbKIfzVhm7dI4hGd3e36EiuFJga8Ku0iMygW0mVxrxEDF7JorbxtocdPiyUkUfMiYa-__7V40xx0MdGwE2RGOnXS2w/s1600-h/IMG_7917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiwTA1TllUZmMaQ-r_Mds80Q63pzbbMN6E88MpKVUCjlHEWVBzrsbKIfzVhm7dI4hGd3e36EiuFJga8Ku0iMygW0mVxrxEDF7JorbxtocdPiyUkUfMiYa-__7V40xx0MdGwE2RGOnXS2w/s640/IMG_7917.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And finally the last of the Falls, where we stopped to unpack whatever lunch we brought. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I overpacked- sandwiches, sausages, apples, thinking I'd be hungry and also packed extra for the people I came with but amazingly enough everyone wasn't that hungry. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Those who were more rajin even brought maggi mee and their mesh tins.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GzXDhKuQw8xrgoREeRgK5hAaVDpHvNg8S_SoxsfSb_QSaKyPT490VRdcM7Ku8YUFIJGX4plwIW47R0A-ue92m5j7zrOEi-4reEybDHCkd8Tk1FaQ8wsLDvDeh3VeNrB4ooLe-JnlDsLI/s1600-h/P1160085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GzXDhKuQw8xrgoREeRgK5hAaVDpHvNg8S_SoxsfSb_QSaKyPT490VRdcM7Ku8YUFIJGX4plwIW47R0A-ue92m5j7zrOEi-4reEybDHCkd8Tk1FaQ8wsLDvDeh3VeNrB4ooLe-JnlDsLI/s640/P1160085.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The mandatory happy group pose!</div>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-17402269398279714442010-01-01T18:35:00.000+08:002010-01-02T03:22:32.143+08:00Bali without the Spa Pampering<div style="text-align: center;"><span 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When I came back to work, my two female colleagues asked me </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“So did you go to the spa, they have the most amazing spas!”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“Did you get your nails done? Manicures there are cheap! How about the Balinese massage?”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I answered ‘no’ to all the questions above and they tsk tsk their tongues and gave me disapproving looks. Those are suppose to be the holy grail of Bali activities, which I did initially plan to do on the LAST day of my stay, but of course plans usually don’t go as plan :P But I’m not complaining, I did have an awesome time. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Call it manic, but almost every minute and sec was spent doing something. Not that we were </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">kiasu</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> or anything, but I just had that level of excitable energy bouncing from one place to another :P</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I was quite afraid it would rain heavily since I went in November, which for South East Asia, a time when monsoon begins. But thank Heavens, the watery blessings are spectacularly timed to only the times when I was in the bathroom showering, sleeping or in the car travelling from one spot to the next. Other than that, splendid weather!</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I booked our happy foursome (my friend, my cousin and her friend) into Oasis Kuta after doing lots and lots of research. I was specific about what I wanted –cheap but not shabby as this is to be a budget holiday and right in the heart of Kuta town where all the action is. I have never booked through an online hotel search site, but my experience with agoda.com means I will use them again in future. They had the best price in comparison with other sites, at 47 US$ per night per room AND they were also the only site which still had rooms left when others were sold out! I flew AirAsia at roughly RM 400 plus for return tickets, but you can actually get it much cheaper if you booked many moons ahead.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqpS8YGJuInLReU9bqfPyjHPUJkEsmcmqWsDBVoNl6WXht9N9OFQ8xbd9CFKwvgPrEYLfOmgGzCAoFVUfkz_oe257novlzQ_m4y_lmx78045TuCFTbmqqFziN20UFZEVBkoObSWpDxut5/s1600-h/IMG_6946.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 425px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqpS8YGJuInLReU9bqfPyjHPUJkEsmcmqWsDBVoNl6WXht9N9OFQ8xbd9CFKwvgPrEYLfOmgGzCAoFVUfkz_oe257novlzQ_m4y_lmx78045TuCFTbmqqFziN20UFZEVBkoObSWpDxut5/s320/IMG_6946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421724960732701794" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The hotel blocks surround a long pool. The water in the pool is surprisingly warm everytime I take a dip. Hmmm</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGkQWygrf8afOFlkQ8YGJaeqC7zmiOKEKpEcR-vQ-2ViWmGWlVVtOgsWY5NfwzhXULknFy4mEzUopgo1lQLsVmkrz_y6nd6QS-_1rZ2lXXdZ_z3DwnIAWn5h3QlXdTp6bO0Plp7hm398C/s1600-h/IMG_6944.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGkQWygrf8afOFlkQ8YGJaeqC7zmiOKEKpEcR-vQ-2ViWmGWlVVtOgsWY5NfwzhXULknFy4mEzUopgo1lQLsVmkrz_y6nd6QS-_1rZ2lXXdZ_z3DwnIAWn5h3QlXdTp6bO0Plp7hm398C/s400/IMG_6944.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421726793199747602" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Room is mid-size with a comfortable bed, tv and separate shower and toilet cubicles</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After checking in, my cousin and her friend took some time to settle in for awhile before we aimed for Kuta beach; apparently they woke up 2 hours before their flight and had not even packed their clothes yet, so I imagine they ran through the morning at tornado speed, because they did catch their flight with unshowered bodies, unwashed faces, and unbrushed teeth :)</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The walk to the beach was just so long! It’s not that I hate walking, in fact most of my holidays are spent doing some serious amount of walking but it was just the feeling of excitement that I couldn’t contain. That, and that it looks like the sun was soon setting. ‘5 mins walk away from the hotel’ my a** The street heading towards the beach was very colourful, with all sorts of stalls and alleyways that lead to backyard spas. Finally after still not finding the beach, we stopped to ask and were told we missed the turning and backtracked. So Oasis Kuta Hotel is </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">really 5 mins </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">from the beach. *Embarassment*</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">nyaha.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDTHimsvqfbXv2wBcbaJ1qfVPKwCcyVLty3clWg3DaLOnMwOcxihrb5XR9rS_REMvCBdQYpVieyHANsnuHI-ZQMy5k4_Kd6cQgiB7Hl11uGgFaz4Sg0mubASuI8dmM5MbwZha2_IP1fb3/s1600-h/IMG_6845.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDTHimsvqfbXv2wBcbaJ1qfVPKwCcyVLty3clWg3DaLOnMwOcxihrb5XR9rS_REMvCBdQYpVieyHANsnuHI-ZQMy5k4_Kd6cQgiB7Hl11uGgFaz4Sg0mubASuI8dmM5MbwZha2_IP1fb3/s400/IMG_6845.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421727635605400706" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Where is the beach??? Along the streets are plenty of stalls to amuse you</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The sand at Kuta beach was a blackish ash colour which I suspect must have something do with Bali being a volcanic island. When I commented on the colour to local Balinese, they were quick to defend ‘Tidak, PUTIH! PUTIH!!!’ (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">NOOOO! IT IS WHITE SAND, YOU BLIND TOURIST)</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> But seriously, if you compare a handful of that Bali sand to the beach sand in Redang, Kapas or Perhentian island you’ll have a Michael Jackson.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ0aDO-L3WVXhiU9su4cscWbvvK8pzYbx4_nS5sf80nYnNC7tHs-LAWY8GjwbuD4pX7EJOsEjOkrU_hAH2GaNK6jD8ZvnmEDUfVFqI24qD9ZIWlgSL04_QAK7D0OH8_IEql4UyCswiebvW/s400/IMG_6863.JPG" /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Kuta beach is a really long stretch of sand, plenty of space for all to have some tanning space</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy80pXYu7L6q9bCSZ_WaTqrLFfz8Wjgbrtkxgv5DvksKRlsKzdbDo3PKEwXZNqKmlyHJvVN_66bw6xvwbPXqoy6Z6yGoJn49RbXWw2lxSkSE8nboG8XaZQl5WaLpPsd_RyxIjkPTECCZ6H/s400/IMG_6906.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Kuta's sunset is pretty early,around 7 pm </span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">While on our beach hunt, we did pass by several stalls promoting all sorts of tour packages, but I really did want to go white water rafting. So this was our FIRST MATH test in Bali since this our first big purchase and counting the value of stuff with all the zeros in Indonesia’s Rupiahs can be dizzying.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">MATH LESSON 1 : 10,000 rupiahs = RM 3.8/ USD 1 plus (to make it easier, I put it at RM 4)</span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After punching the calculator at the stall for the umpteenth time, boy I’m glad we did not book our rafting package online, despite all the claims of the best and lowest prices, because it is the LOWEST on the streets. Compare paying roughly RM 120 for 4 people to raft to USD 60 (RM 205) per person online! So our rafting adventure at Sungai Telaga Waja with Bagus Bali tour was set for the 2</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">nd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> day of our trip!</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">As part of the deal, a van picked us up early that morning for the one hour journey to the river. It was a comfortable Toyota Avanza which we shared with a couple from Kuwait. The girl was really cute, in fact she looks like she just hit her twenties and the guy, with a pair of huge sunnies did look like a Bollywood type. Upon reaching the river, we were first given a briefing. The local Balinese started in English then deftly switched to Japanese for the benefit of a three generation Jap family seated next to us. Wow! Besides that, they insisted we all wore strapped sandals to prevent any flip flop float-away misfortunes or worst getting cuts on our feet if we walk on the rocks. So they handed me these not-very-trustworthy looking pair of overpriced black sandals, which sure enough tore apart during rafting later :) Our valuables were all then thrown into a waterproof bag and tossed into the raft and our adventure began.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The rapids were Class 3, which is not too slow and boring and not too thrashy as well. After all, our neighbouring raft had the Japanese grandma and grandpop! Some of the obstacles were tricky though, and it came in the form of a bamboo bridge. There were 4 or 5 of these man-made bridges which consisted of just a few narrow bamboo logs tied across the river. I guess the people living along the river must be pretty expert tight rope walkers to be able to cross. Anyway, our problem was whenever we were going to pass under the bridge our guide seated at the back of the raft would shout ‘boom boom’ and we had to bend backwards , flattening ourselves completely as we watch the bamboo bridge passing literally a few cm above our noses! I envision a beer bellied man even after flattening himself on the raft, would still get his belly hooked :P</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOvzwZwL6AoLXRIgYx2cDFlgy4sMzw68lfosEqIaYnRE3oILXKUOspTxJYSrbuSek4N6xuqLObW2giT7dXKgveHNT6oOKm4isOd8zWTIQfNCs_EY-BDxfZO1Gvk1gsztg4w6Fba4aw2He/s400/DSC_0041.JPG" /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">With an expert guide peddling hard and steering the raft behind us, it was really</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">easy for us. Just don't fall out of the raft like my friend in the shades did :P</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHlqpYZ5yPdBiFJscke1BRKlqXNijkK3cDEr1OEry3mqD1zsT5xVif2TnjMbeIf6TEYc7FJ3vkE5tZPKE3quRL3gqLKCoUV7Xw6nUDRh07pojxiPpa4-bcPgmAOezoYXpqZnuV9foj-avS/s400/PB140702.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Halfway down the river, there's a pitstop for drinks and some time to chill by a mini waterfall. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We were so thirsty we bought the drinks without realising it was superbly overpriced. Bah, tourist traps..</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFKXBrdhFUOW6kXWG2ZVvVJV0tH99upuWDU0xmiXEg342ocvKy-lMXY383EjqPkpG0tgBVA1I0dk9IhiNQz78ZdJAwHWvM9fB3HeUkNAdKmZcd1kGvxrlYnhIZgQ41vNSNapXOCQznOPB/s400/DSC_0125.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The final adrenaline rush before we head for their little hut perched by the hill side for </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> one of the best buffet lunches on my trip</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After being blessed in the river waters of Bali, we hit the clubs. We tried Seminyak at first, which is a slight upmarket area where streets are lined with foreign brand boutiques. No luck here as we spotted only one happening bar for the gay community.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The male dancers were really hot though so we stayed a couple of minutes to check out the scene much to the discomfort of my very straight male friend. So next we headed south to Legian, located in between Kuta and Seminyak, and here’s where all the short and singlet backpackers party. So of course the street was noisy with pumping bass and neon lights flashed from every corner.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIwiwMils64Btw8abf6zfO2bErSXfU31BzDCD0eIMYy8-TxI25YPWcQdfD3fvoWSI6wQCsfb1AkG9YergtX-NIvhikeUbpHA1cmTt8iJr2kq7yTnTbDGVRvWAFXdq2D3OhgFNmuo7hxPz/s400/IMG_7015.JPG" /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The deejay in Paddy's perched high above the dancers, in this aquarium-like perspex case. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Perhaps he got attacked previously and this is a safety measure. Afterall, I did hear a couple of hits</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">for the third time playing in my two hours clubbing there...</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQA53KRmTDqJeO3yMhtucF8jdzsEHKycOKlPqj5lt3DzEjU7uWyIbjUcoVHEXybsY3MMCI4voT0JG14hZcXZoNWjJ5qBdP3wCzynKJMrzvATA39kqT5lbOgm5EobIrVhsSNu08_Zt8mZvV/s400/IMG_7014.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">You know you're on an island when clubbers wear beach sandals to club :)</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Day 3. Today we have a local Indonesian Jakarta dude, thanks to my fellow traveller’s contact. Meet Kamal, who came to Bali to study and is now happily in love with Bali to call it home with his wife.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">He was one jolly happy-go-lucky dude indeed, peppering our drives from one tourist must see to another with his stories on his ex-gfs, his days as a radio deejay in Bali, his adoring female fans and stories on the power struggles between the local powerhouse families. It never dawned on me how big Bali was until he told us each drive from one place to another was between an hour to and beyond. Bali is indeed a </span><s><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">little</span></s><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> idyllic island. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">First stop was the volcanic Mt Batur. Here, peddlers are a little overzealous since they’re not as moneyed as their counterparts in town. They carry their goods around and follow you like flies, calling out their prices again and again, just in case you would change your mind and hand over your dollar. Prior to disembarking the car, Kamal has warned us not to buy anything her, but a man blocking my path and showing me a beautiful wooden chess set for a mere 1 US$ made me dizzy with wanting. After giving a few longing glances I quickly snatched myself away before he could capture me in that sale. You must be thinking I was crazy not to have bought it, but when I returned to KL, my colleague told me a friend once bought this beautiful collapsible wooden basket for a dirt cheap price in Mt Batur. Happy with her purchase she carried her basket away only to have the many pieces collapse before her eyes. So yeah, phew…..</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivW6GXVGjuxwLc-eELVd1QxXvBVj-XowNZddokizQIWcH1z9JWeGY11_CItlD5tKB1S0gBCIjwE-LHGEW4vokNfZR5Ser3fWuir_jJ9g6pjsodvdPk4E5wkbtfEUm5lgv1MKT1w-tJjI5c/s400/IMG_7097.JPG" /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The volcanic mountain in the background was 'bald' , totally derived of any trees or any other vegetation</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">At the monkey forest, wildly mischievous monkeys waited to grab handouts from tourists amidst a mystifying mossy jungle setting. Definitely a good place to shoot the Bali edition of Twilight. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyITrvNRiT1KqhxCCtktN_-ECiDdMV-5tshcCugip2IKx9qZb8rxSr-9hsRstDioyvzlHPjZlbFE_5kIrtDdtcBg0jp2inf4Ii4-6I2z0WkcKF0XbSWHuJqOVdUnqUV8na39roT43WQYLa/s400/IMG_7038.JPG" /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">At the entrance, we bought a bunch bananas to distribute to the monkeys, but no such luck. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The monkeys don't believe in handouts, they rather grab it straight from your hands. Oh yeah, we lost two mineral water bottles to them too. If you're planning to go, watch out for your pockets too, they love slipping their sneaky fingers in there</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTzBGSJuuA2VzGPQbwjCbDf8bVwFRrDVIimQnui7tQahHarpfibWa1sBnlBEUFRhEtxfgZxAUREluFxvc-LzQHU7yOHi0XRfZOwKRRVQW-sHpbFBdDtP8DNkRCdPIVTKfFS2vnvjOqb50/s400/IMG_7049.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">A couple arrived for a wedding photoshoot in the monkey forest. The lush greenery, moss and undergrowth does make for a mystifyingly dramatic picture, that is if the monkeys don't run off with the camera lenses first.</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Our hunger for the day was well rewarded with Babi Guling (Roast Pork stuffed with herbs and spices) at the famous Ibu Oka café in Ubud.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIztOOSeqCbBy9TT4PG_qPzSbPdyqA2PNRjyW07uRz1h15ChzBC3ZzkT7W-hM8L04Hev8JSjKXiDbuO6Qq_eRCukJWOKndCWLDIJqWZIPz8kE7adv9xBU1TtgWmEk8H28di3vqpzwXxZLM/s400/IMG_7074.JPG" /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In Ibu Oka, you sit Japanese style on the floor. Her packed shop is a testament to how popular this place is.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDNDledOFNV08Bifeev-pRXb60clxl-cRVdvNPZgitA_z3icepIkt_kkIqkh5e8B4CXx45_2VM29UQt5f2k21Zz7o7TAG4yV3NdkI5buMbk-B_kOQQjDb4z5d1vuWY5EzB9jlKeHweYh3/s400/IMG_7088.JPG" /></span></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The famous BABI GULING. Some green veg,roast pork, crispy pork skin and down below some unidentified object that tastes just as good</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">A tourist must visit was Tanah Lot, an ancient temple perched in the sea. There were lots of people already taking positions there to see the sunset, but what caught my eye was a bunch of surfers riding the waves. The waves here are much higher than those at Kuta, but what makes it chillingly exciting to watch is that the bay is totally rocky. One wrong maneuver and crash you go baby, surf board and all.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5tRpEDpzma0Fan5yG3F7Tgq1ctYP1x3TAUKFXbI8gO90pFR3mkTQnlkfHnxRmJfHLM01mQA2EW6ojJIDX5KSUfXptdHMh8fnsvNqc9s6P4Wpu2LsJyibgqp2IiMJZc6ChB-dJfifMr0j/s400/IMG_7137.JPG" /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">That rocky outcrop is the temple. When the tide rises, it will be surrounded by sea water. Right under the outcrop is a little cave where fresh spring water spouts and because of that oddity, tourists are welcomed to go there to have blessings. Funnily enough, while watching the sunset here, Kamal mentioned that locals who are dating never visit this place as a couple because there's some strange belief that they will SURELY breakup after that</span></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Throughout the trip I expected bad food, as my mum had a pretty bad experience when she went a couple of years back. ‘Flies everywhere, lousy tasting food and disgusting toilets’ were her haunting reminder. Well I had none of that, in fact every meal was simply lip-smacking delicious! Though I must say I was at cafes for all meals until the last day when I finally found a warung where the locals themselves dine plus a few adventurous tourists. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qo6OEwTGhMJ9x1glUmNm5m4VTqQ01M8VtcMKdDEMInrxsW0irtuWViAsTkGashDM0CgYDwgKFPQSVIehNQEjehj699aB3MS1ows3U9dZ2JSHeN4Yr98l-FPUR1b0TXXehmrkYb1Shl-m/s400/IMG_6842.JPG" /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Some random cafe along the streets of Kuta. Food was okay, more promising things to come....</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWYZjLiT4yXR7VLZtd1Ihuv8b_UYKBKqxe3Wb449S1bP1Kvo3cTtNVXUgVlLPDrmWL15QqRezS1fWzP6UfQQf34SqvNhfv0xPiVJnJPdiuIjlNRPxUTc8A2pQ_0CbSZ4zSfTYz2r02hbc/s400/IMG_6963.JPG" /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">First night. Nothing says welcome better than great food. Warung Made (Ma-day) in Kuta. We ordered a lipsmacking combo of meat boiled in some melon thing, pork in curry, gado gado which is some vegetable dish. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTuCrJqZgOE1GXEUlYx620iorYQt5X2YMOdVaaJBjod35SAgYR0vr3QSp0bhkaIzARBWdzMA7kgu9KQlffwT9KNQeiu6vVhlJ4ayEM1tgTBmJbCk5kRu1IOB1c6mKLbIg_SJl9dHzQD63Z/s400/IMG_6982.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Even more meaning to the word delicious. We had a little bit of Mexican at Santa Fe Restaurant in Seminyak</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">On the last day, when our pockets were running dry we went up to some locals and asked them where we can have good local food. They told us Warung Made, and I protested asking for a place where the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">locals actually ate</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">, which led us to Warung Nikmat. </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yq_KrJYrWlWEc5HnlQBROJgIe7WJqraQ5_MeRgWuTn9Li8-_m5bIhed3B9rtLJSdbT3jyurfKWGnztxB6cXBUL8bdCQ4OcT-uk2zJPXjG5sWFLILFU3866G4dEcUsqIp3misSQk1ipis/s400/IMG_7227.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Down the alley we go in search of Nikmat. Good food is always tucked away you see..</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; line-height: normal; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9iNjNv0kEFLG2XNFw51AgsaYQ9X9GitWJSqspI10MYUr1GV5rvus00_cZ65qiHm_l3EThdp_zKk_QEaLS5YT4J62hZiDyXI2TFBsByvqdA66pXQ8SWYJsnsJaelkBWcC89TPzyqVjQSjv/s400/IMG_7233.JPG" /></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Alas, the search for Warung Nikmat concludes in a splendid lunch. The dishes here are all laid out ala nasi campur, and you simply pick what you want to eat. My rice with fish satay, veg and chicken came up to a mere 15000 rupiah.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqovLJJ52b7ZEDTXWvDGp3KZ6j2K6MbCEHsDE1wVcvtZU6yqvw6BV3FLSaG3Lct_lwF52rNIQyXjDuTRuTqC6iXIplWcJchUDAEP6tPusVudqpiNcglTlD7baYM5TRpPYRL9_mLWZAcBs/s400/IMG_6838.JPG" /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And at every meal, we couldn't stop ourselves from ordering Avocado Juice! Creamy and slushy with choc sauce, I can taste it just by typing about it...</span></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I tried surfing too, hoping I could at least decently stand on the board by the last day in Bali. I’m not too sure if successfully squatting on the board for a mere 4 seconds counts :P Prices on the beach for surf and body boards are to be haggled just like everything else in Bali. I think the cheapest I managed to haggle to was 100,000 rupiahs. In addition to renting a board, you can pay more for surfing lessons. I was lucky as I arrived eeeearrrly in the morning when tourists were all still suffering from the previous nights hangover so my friends and I were alone on the beach with the surfer boys cum beach equipment rental boys. So I had some ‘free’ surfing lessons from them, which unfortunately didn’t make me surf any better but they gave me some balls and sense on how to handle the big waves a-crashing. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So if anyone wants to continue teaching me, by all means I’m an eager student :)</span><span style=""></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-30655467826450759752009-11-09T19:39:00.000+08:002009-11-09T20:01:30.997+08:00Preparing for a Getaway!It's 5 days more till I whisk myself off to a getaway holiday! And the usual excitement is there, planning what to do (I love to do research before going, call me kiasu but I don't want to miss out on great activities!) , planning what to wear (I take a minimum of 3 hours to pack my bag to make sure I bring the littlest among of clothes, all versatile pieces, yet I end up almost always having a big heavy bag OR a bag with too little clothes I have to borrow my sis's clothes).<br /><br />But the oddest thing is, I suddenly found another new 'to do' item. How to stay in shape so I don't spill from my beachwear. *Gasp* In all my years of beach holidays, I had never worried about this, not because I have a good body or anything, but it never seemed to matter. I always felt I am an average looking person and I'll be fine, and really who cares anyway? I laughed out LOUD at women's mag articles on '10 surefire ways to get your body trimmed by summer' and '10 desperate measures to get in shape for that bikini' but now... now... I am suddenly paying attention to these sort of articles. Suddenly, looking average ( lumpy here and there and spots of cellulite at places I shall not disclose) is not good enough.<br /><br />I'm not sure how this 'sudden' change of perspective came about. Did my eyes consume too many of the cheap, slutty, slimming ads? Have I been around too many skinny models? I'm racking my brain to see if someone recently told me I look fat (hmm thinking about that, yes my dad did mention something a couple of weeks ago, but that's hardly a cause for a sudden desperation to look toned?) Or do I suddenly have higher standards for myself?<br /><br />Hmm.... I think it could be all of the above. Which makes me wonder.. how many more days, hours, minutes and seconds left before I hit the beach? Oh no... not many!sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-53513614009718423332009-08-01T16:07:00.000+08:002009-08-01T16:14:13.284+08:00Playing PretendI know it is just good nature to ask ' How are you?'<br /><br />But do people really want to know the answer? Or do they expect you to just say fine, thank you.<br />There are days when I feel like shit and I just cringe and say fine, thank you. I really don't want to launch into an assault and ask 'do you really want to know?'<br /><br />Because I might just start blabbering about how un-fine I am and you may never want to ask again 'How are you'<br /><br />It's tiring to pretend I'm fine. I prefer to just smile, people usually prefer seeing a sunny day and a bright, cheery person.<br /><br />The other day a priest was talking about 'feelings' and 'experiences'. Feelings come and go whereas experiences stay on in your memory. It's good teaching and quite practical when you think about it. My feelings are on a yo-yo most days. One shot of euphoria when things go well and the next moment feeling really low. At least now I try to remember my experiences, the good experiences I had, and to believe if I can live out the bad ones, there are more good experiences waiting for me.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-35424060827326031192009-06-28T16:03:00.000+08:002009-06-28T16:15:27.357+08:00Taking the road less travelledI must say I have full respect for those who cut themselves from what's 'normal' and familiar to pursue their dreams. Recently, a friend did just that. He knew his calling. And it was not in his marketing job.<br /><br />While having an easy Sunday morning mamak breakfast with him, he casually blurted out that he has quit his job. I was astounded at first. He is or rather<span style="font-style: italic;"> was</span> working with a highly respected corporation. But my amazement quickly turned into awe. This is what in my deepest dreams, I always dream of doing. And here seated in front of me is my friend with out-of-bed hair, groggy eyes and a lopsided grin telling me he has just done it.<br /><br />I remember many times, during orientations and surveys, I was asked who is your Idol? I never had one. I don't need ONE IDOL, simply because all around me are many many friends who come in and out of my life taking bold steps which are simply inspiring. Their optimism and can-do attitude never fails to put in a better mood. They give strength to the coward that resides in me. And I thank God for having known them.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-88527131303990198002009-06-21T23:55:00.000+08:002009-06-22T00:05:11.574+08:00It's a wrap!!My eyes are droopy right now, but there's a sense of euphoria for today's accomplishment. Derrik, Burn, Derrik's Hong Kong friend, Tony Leung, and our darling actors Eva and Andrew finally completed shooting by 7.15 pm today! Shooting was meant to be completed last Sunday, but due to horrible weather and all kinds of unplanned for disturbances such as construction sounds, neighbours renovations, sounds of kids playing and nosey neighbours, shooting was, to put it in mild terms, less than satisfactory. But last Sunday's damper is no longer like a heavy rain cloud over head since we finished shooting today in perfect timing, just before it got dark. Plus, the weather was hot but not horridly so, and rain clouds 'blessed' our production team with only a few stray drops. And with very committed actors, shooting was a breeze and not too mention fun with all the silly bloopers. Okay will stop for now, the film now depends on Derrik's superb editing skills. June 31st will be the due date for our BMW Shorties entry and we just can't wait.<br /><br />At least now shooting is over, I can concentrate on writing the script for the Dalat video. It's suppose to be just a 15 minute script but till now I haven't finish it!! Arghh, there seems to be not enough time....sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-33072064330115003762009-05-31T23:08:00.000+08:002009-06-01T00:04:50.410+08:00Of kopitiams and duriansI remember about 4 or 5 years ago when the urban 'kopitiam' have just begun sprouting around town, furnished in the old charm of marble tables and polished wooden floors. Back then, I was aghast that everyday favourites like <span style="font-style: italic;">nasi lemak </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">asam laksa</span> were being sold for RM 8 + when a typical bowl at the typical kopitiam costs RM 2.00 and RM 3.80. It seemed as if this new wave of entrepreunership was really cashing in on people by spinning a new chic to what is arguably most Malaysians' comfort food.<br /><br />But now fast forward to present times, I admit I do patronise the new urban kopitiams quite frequently and have stopped chastizing the steeper prices as they are strategically located within malls, do not have the typical sticky and dirty kopitiam floors and are even offering free wi-fi. (and did I mention air-cond too ? :P Though the latest of this chic kopitiams, Pappa Rich, does try to push the price level even higher than the rest of its competitors (sigh.. inflation of the nasi lemak price again)<br /><br />I think one of the best things that 'urbanizing' the kopitiams has done is that the tradition of kopitiams are carried on for the new generation. The little kids may not know that the original kopitiams did actually use marble tables and those cute porcelain, 'cracked' looking coffee cups, but for those who are at least in their twenties, they can identify with it. Whoever who started this whole urban kopitiam madness whether it was Kluang Station or Old Town, it is a brilliant tribute to keeping the Malaysian tradition of kopitiams intact. At one point, kopitiams were losing out to the wave of frappucinos from Starbucks, I wouldn't say they have won the battle now, but at least people have a choice.<br /><br />And speaking of almost dying traditions and past times, I read an article where someone lamented people don't eat durian like they used to anymore. Those days when whole families sat around the prized fruit and watched it being pried open are now just sweet ol' memories. We used to wait anxiously for the durian season and when it did come, lorries full of durians will be parked side by side along the road. They'd set up makeshift stalls, with flimsy canvas roofs and you might remember customers even eating at the stalls itself. And whenever my father when out of town and passed by cheap durian stalls, he'll fill his car boot with so much of the prickly fruit we'd be eating for hours.<br /><br />Whatever happened to those days?<br /><br />Who in the world talks about the best durian they had last night anymore?<br /><br />Maybe someone should take a cue from those kopitiams and give a new urban chic to eating durians. Set up a 'shack' like structure outside malls with scraps of wood to give that 'authentic' yet polished feel of a modernised durian stall. And we could have box like stools for customers to have their durians at the stall itself, complete with a mist-fan to cool down. Sounds like an idea? Waiting to see it happen.. :Psacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-7896679460008633602009-04-28T23:19:00.000+08:002009-04-28T23:58:34.435+08:00Song for my flesh and bloodDear flesh and blood<br />We used to play together<br />Now not anymore...<br />You used to wanna stick to me<br />But I always pushed you aside<br />Growing up I never ever thought<br />One day I'd wake up<br /><br />And our fantasies will be over<br />Rainbows are shorter<br />Notice between flowers<br />There are thorns<br /><br />Now if I knew<br />I would have held on<br />Held on so tight to your hand<br />Your little palm in my little palm<br />We'll hold on<br /><br />Well I know now the bitter truth<br />We're apart, Only close by name<br />Everything's not the same...<br /><br />But can I, dare I<br />Ask you now<br />Would you, would you<br />Make me apart of your life<br />Not feel afraid to share your cries<br />And bless me with your smiles..<br /><br />It hurts me so<br />To watch from afar<br />Knowing you're taking the black path<br />But I'm silent and keep still<br />Cos I always stir your wrath..<br /><br />Dear flesh and blood<br />We used to play together<br />We used to play together<br />We used to....sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-91989873354991993062009-04-18T22:33:00.000+08:002009-04-18T23:52:03.294+08:00Back then...When I look back, I realised that just like many other people, growing up was not easy. And there are some people who while flipping the pages of their yearbook recount the horrors with laughter, I am not too sure if mine were funny at all.Or maybe I'm too serious. But whatever it is, my diary still holds recollections of the hurt, disappointment and frustration that took place a lot of the time. And most of the time, the strongest of these feelings were evoked by my parents.<br /><br />After my teens I tried to talk to my mum about it before to cut loose my baggage, but soon realised that this is not a good tea topic for discussion as no parent would like to think that they've did something wrong right? After all, it is quite insulting to them after trying their very best, that things did not really work out. I really don't mean to say that I've now turned out any less than a decent adult, in fact I did turn out pretty ok. Just that I do carry some baggage from my teenage years.<br /><br />When I entered my twenties, I did forget about the difficulty growing up during my teens for quite a bit as I spent less and less time with my parents and family. Recently, I realised the distance and space proved vital as it allowed me to grow on my own, feeling a little lighter and less burdened by all our communication breakdowns.<br /><br />That difficult phase became a distant memory until tonight when I had dinner with my parents and two brothers. My mother seemed irritated for some reason, and the fact that the restaurant's service was poor further aggravated her nerves. We started by choosing dishes for dinner when I noticed that she her tone does have a patronising edge. <span style="font-style: italic;"></span>I had for a long time forgotten this side of her as I've been busy with work so what little time I have with her, we usually spend it updating each other on our daily activities. Back to ordering dishes, I suggested what was good, but in her usual half-scolding voice, shot down my suggestions. <span style="font-style: italic;">Okay, never mind I told myself.</span> Though, she could still have told me nicely some of them are having a cough, therefore they're having none of my chilli filled dishes but yet she said ' <span style="font-style: italic;">How to eat?! They're coughing!' </span>Honestly, I think over the years growing up with her as a mum taught me how to be <span style="font-style: italic;">extremely</span> tolerant. Many friends have many times been amazed at my ability to just shake things off and stay calm when being confronted by pissy people; well what can I say, my family taught me well. Back to the dinner scene, I just shrugged and told her to order whatever she wants.<br /><br />While waiting for the food to arrive, the waiters kept coming to our table to let us know that this dish is sold out, that dish is sold out and so on. That got her blood pressure even higher and I could see she was snapping and mumbling her annoyances under her breath. So, trying to relax her, I jokingly asked, <span style="font-style: italic;">Why are you so angry? Stress ah? Take it easy la...</span> No reply from her, so I thought maybe she did relax abit.<br /><br />Later on while having dinner, when someone else mentioned again that she looks stressed (could have been my bro or I) she broke into a fury of words <span style="font-style: italic;">Why do you keep asking me if I'm angry? Of course I'm angry because you keep asking me that! Yeah I know I have a grumpy (type of) face!!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>I was shocked. That came out of nowhere. But then again, when I thought about it, this is really her.<br /><br />She has the tendency to snap easily and when you tell her about it, she makes you feel really guilty for 'accusing' her of it. So definitely not the easiest to have difficult conversations with. Because when she feels she's right, she'll make damn sure you <span style="font-style: italic;">know</span> she <span style="font-style: italic;">is RIGHT.</span><br /><br />Exactly the problem I had when growing up. Both my mum and dad brought me up in lecture style. There was no such thing as open discussions. Their word is law, and a simple mistake of pointing out your opinion is understood as <span style="font-style: italic;">being rude or argumentative.</span> And yet they talked about democracy, about Mahathir's iron fist but obviously such open mindedness did not extend to family communications.<br /><br />It was very simple. If they say the apple is red and I pointed out it is actually green, I am considered rude. Of course in real life, the conversations were far much complexed, but that's the best and simplest way of explaining why I usually felt exasperated.<br /><br />My mother also had this habit of making sure you do things in the way she saw it <span style="font-style: italic;">'best'.</span> Let's say if she told you to put on a cap because it is hot, and you'd rather not for some reason she'll call you <span style="font-style: italic;">silly/stupid.</span> This was really patronising and annoying as while I was growing up, I felt the need to explore many things in new ways, yet I'd received flak because my ways were considered <span style="font-style: italic;">stupid.</span><br /><br />It was in many ways hurtful, but I am glad that nowadays my time is not spent entirely with them, which gives me space to do my own stuff and feel that I <span style="font-style: italic;">miss </span>them.<br /><br />I've always observed my friends' communication with their parents and noticed the different dynamics that come into play. I have high regards for parents who when disagreeing with their child, ask them in a calm and <span style="font-style: italic;">unaffected</span> tone why they are doing (whatever that displeases them) . And when the child explains, they <span style="font-style: italic;">do not immediately shoot down their child's answer</span> but proceed to discuss about what displeases them. I was never a bad child or a naughty one.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>Yet while growing up, many times I felt like I was being questioned like a high-on-the-list fugitive. And 'discussions' always end with their verdict telling me <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> what they wanted me to do. I pray I never have to do that to my own children in future. Yet many people pray the same thing only to realise later their acting exactly like their parents did. Shudder ...<br /><br />On retrospect, the way they brought me up contributed to the way I am today. I was timid because I was always afraid of what they would say or think. Today, I care less and realised I need to listen to my inner voice. In the past, when in conversation with people, I rarely voiced my opinion because with my parents, it was really unnecessary to have an opinion in an argument, so as to stay a '<span style="font-style: italic;">polite' </span>child. Most of the time when I did have courage to argue back, I usually ended up feeling defeated and in tears. They also always discouraged me from receiving favours from my friends because it is considered <span style="font-style: italic;">tak malu</span> or visiting my friends' houses for no particular reason because they felt that each family needs its individual and private space. This I find is true with some families, but I've also learnt that there are <span style="font-style: italic;">many many </span>families who keep their houses open to their friends whom they warmly welcome to their homes. And there are many friends who do you a big favour just because they're nice and not to make you feel like you owe them one. I once had difficulty accepting favours from friends, feeling very guilty each time I did because I always felt that they had to sacrifice time and effort just for me. And who was I? But thanks to many friends, they taught me that the best answer to a favour is just a big <span style="font-style: italic;">thank you</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">appreciation</span>. Thanks guys, it was a good lesson learnt.<br /><br />It may seem a little late, but finally I feel I can differentiate myself from my parents and I have moved from under their shadow. So many thoughts of rebellion that used to play in mind are now mostly gone. Now, I don't feel the need to fight back, because there is no fight anymore. I no longer feel their grip on me, but I hope I will see the next phase of life walking alongside them because I do love them, but it will take a lot more to forget the rough start.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-319193188472184982009-02-25T22:18:00.001+08:002009-02-25T23:29:35.396+08:00Beer and Burps at Brussels<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.pe.facebook.com/photos-pe-snc1/v2347/45/22/651805724/n651805724_6024800_1698.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-a.pe.facebook.com/photos-pe-snc1/v2347/45/22/651805724/n651805724_6024800_1698.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />After hearing much about Brussels at Jaya One, I decided to go check out the place myself. Though not very much a beer expert or fan, checking out something new is <span style="font-style: italic;">always</span> exciting for me :P So there I was sitted with CY, Sook and Yen yen each trying to make our minds what to drink. After all, the list is long and it's not everyday we encounter foreign beers. After each of us picked our beer, I suddenly decided to ask em' what the promotion of the day was. Turns out a bucket of 4 bottles of Hoegaarden Forbidden Fruit was going at about RM 50 something, so we all changed our orders (which I'm sure frustrates just about any waiter/waitress, though the one who served us still did it with a pleasant smile)<br /><br />Boy, it was definitely yummy. Sweet and flavourful, definitely irresistible. What have I been missing all this while.....? Anyway, I love looking at design and I think Forbidden Fruit's label is definitely interesting (which means I also brought home the coaster :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2347/45/22/651805724/n651805724_6024793_9552.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2347/45/22/651805724/n651805724_6024793_9552.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Food is yummy, tried the German sausages my friend ordered and some bacon cocktail sausages I ordered, but price leans on the ouch side abit. My four bacon wrapped cocktail sausages cost rougly RM 14, definitely pricey for little stuff that you can woof at one go.<br /><br />Oh well no matters, I'll still be back for another beer next time around :)sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-74631578672871029022008-12-19T00:22:00.000+08:002008-12-19T00:42:16.914+08:00ReflectionsA couple of weeks back I went home while the sun was still shining and arrived at the doorstep of my home to be greeted by the surprised face of my brother.<br />"Did you get fired?" he asked sarcastically.<br />This was my moment of realisation. I don't usually come home early, I just continue working as long as there is work to do (which is usually the case) but I certainly do not consider myself a workaholic. Few of my friends have begun to think I am one, after coming home late and missing some friendly get-togethers.<br />Workaholics thrive on work. I, on the other hand simply have work that if left unfinished will lead to certain miseries and doom. But it is rather ironic (or foolish) how before I started working I swore to myself to lead a balance life and not linger about the office. Haha.<br /><br />*****<br />Today while reading Patsy Kam's article in the Star about the meaning of Christmas, I suddenly came to another realisation. Of course, articles pandering about what Christmas really means are by no means a fresh topic, yet funnily enough when Patsy wrote about how we're paying just so much attention to a Christmas tree, I realise I do the same. Will this year's tree be dressed in gold? Or silver? Or decked in bows and other shiny paraphernalia?<br /><br />All the years of amusing myself with ideas on how to make my artificial, lifeless tree match the regal ones in Metrojaya, I forgot that in another corner in my house sits the altar where there is an image of Jesus and the Bible laid before it. How did I spend the last few years forgetting to figure out how to make the altar the centre of attention during Christmas? By no means am I doing a 360 and chucking the tree out, some traditions albeit commercial driven, are still fun to follow but I guess as a Christian I should have also thought more of Jesus.<br /><br />After all it was His birth and not my fake tree.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-37600317031175573532008-11-17T21:11:00.000+08:002008-11-17T21:18:12.946+08:00U know when Christmas is nearYes, the signs are eminent when Christmas is close by...The obvious ones would be a sudden influx of pine and fir trees all over malls with gaily coloured balls and reams of ribbons..<br /><br />In the office I have started blaring some old Christmas oldies to the delighted glee of some colleagues :)<br /><br />At home this sign comes up :<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunl33k9gANF2KLtmWxVFpVIit55kef4S1VxOUgc8ZXbV4Bx9cYQeRX0yY8kWKwjPv-tv2W3QKav_moRqtMFCtwrzbSih2DUwc0yRcMSL1jwNHmNI4TmBgOpaWBo7DbWwlYiVjD1A-Zei3/s1600-h/DSC00594.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunl33k9gANF2KLtmWxVFpVIit55kef4S1VxOUgc8ZXbV4Bx9cYQeRX0yY8kWKwjPv-tv2W3QKav_moRqtMFCtwrzbSih2DUwc0yRcMSL1jwNHmNI4TmBgOpaWBo7DbWwlYiVjD1A-Zei3/s320/DSC00594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269614709027505170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It ONLY comes around just before Christmas, so go figure.. :)sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-14735467352108406212008-10-16T00:07:00.000+08:002008-10-16T00:21:03.971+08:00What Am I DoingIt's like 12.08 am (took me 6 tries to type those words, kept on mispelling) and I'm up when I know I'd have another long day tomorrow.<br /><br />I'm in my room on my sister's laptop since it works faster than my Toshiba, and out of the back window hyper happy Tamil music is playing from the mamak. It's times like these when I feel at ease, serene (yes with the whole Tamil music thing) when the night air is still and the only voice I hear is the one that belongs to me, talking to me, inside of me. Do I sound insane or what haha.<br /><br />TO whoever who reads this post, I'm sorry if I've been cutting calls, MSNs, SMS, whatever communication short with the excuse 'I'm busy'. Work has been eating up a chunk of life, actually almost the whole chunk of my life and I hear many a wise man's faint echo 'Work, Life Balance.. GO slow .. DOn't burn'.<br /><br />But how leh... when stuff keeps on streaming in ?<br /><br />I'm in a reflective mood when I get home, now when I sneak some precious time to blog. What am I doing? Am I doing the right thing? Is it really work hard while you're young or is it Be smart and screw it while you can cos life's short. I really don't know. But you know how they tell you to trust your gut instinct? That small little voice inside of you? Right now the voice says things are not really all right for me. BUT then I have more than one voice. In the morning another voice says <em>C'mon, this is it. This is life. We're going to seize the day</em>. So which voice is right ah?<br /><br />I hear the echoes of plastic plates being stacked in the back lane by the washer women of the mamak. I hear even more Tamil music going a few decibels louder than before... or it's just another singer who has a shriller voice, I'm not too sure. I hear the tapping on my keyboard. It's times like this when I feel serene after a hectic day :)sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-27813951375602762472008-10-08T01:32:00.000+08:002008-10-08T01:48:45.928+08:00Which is whichWoman who leaves job and joins boyfriend in another country<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Fool or Strong Faith?</span><br /><br />Woman who works 12 hours everyday<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Workaholic or Ambitious?</span><br /><br />Woman who tries to work by principles<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Idealistic or Strong Character?</span><br /><br />Woman who decides to leave lover for career<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Realist or Cold Hearted?</span><br /><br />Woman who delays having a family to dedicate herself to work<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ambitious or Soul-less?</span><br /><br />Woman who forgives unfaithful lover<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Understanding or Foolish?</span><br /><br />Woman who believes in finding The One<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Naive or Optimist?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /></span>sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-81541356923876149372008-10-08T01:30:00.000+08:002008-10-08T01:32:13.123+08:00Thank youThanks for all the wishes guys :) I appreciate that you guys remembered and took the time to create some funky, heartfelt messages.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-21225637406108357812008-10-08T01:09:00.000+08:002008-10-08T01:30:27.787+08:00WalkReaching at this corner<br />I have to take a turn<br />Moving on and on<br />It's not a choice<br />No time to stammer<br />Just keep up my poise<br />And walk on ...<br /><br />Looking over my shoulder<br />Was my journey all that good<br />Tried my best to keep the mood<br />At times I gave up<br />At times I wanted to stall<br />But thank You<br />You kept me renewed<br />I walked on<br />Walked on for tomorrow<br />Walked on for tomorrow<br /><br />Now I take my stride<br />Here I come<br />Around the corner<br />I hear new whispers<br />I can only imagine<br />What awaits<br />Who will walk beside me<br />Who will dance beside me<br />Who will try to break my steps<br />Who will carry me forward<br />Let me sail and glide<br />In my strides<br /><br />Can only look behind my shoulder<br />Footsteps seem to be heavier<br />But no time to stop or stammer<br />I'm moving on and on<br />This is life<br />And life's like thissacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-747948149998038597.post-3105098079999132622008-09-01T19:30:00.000+08:002008-09-01T21:54:41.409+08:00We still love Malaysia ... right?The room was not the most comfortable of waiting rooms I've seen, with dirty white walls and a bare plastic playground occupying one section of it. With a runny nose and irritable throat, I lumbered across the room with my laptop bag (stuffed with magazines, 2 seasons of Prison Break and a bottle water) to find an empty spot on the sagging moldy green coloured couch.<br /><br />I was here waiting for my MyVi to be serviced, but this place could well be a hospital waiting room. Everyone else waiting had either the papers in hand or a magazine and I decided I would spend the next hour gleefully catching up on Prison Break-haven't watched it so long I can't even recall the characters' names. But that was before I caught sight of the TV at the end of my couch, showing none other than Embun, the 2002 Malay movie depicting a love story in the midst of the struggle against the Japanese Occupation. I immediately forgot my Prison Break plans and got caught up in the movie, (despite having watched it before). One quick glance around the room, I noticed noone bothered besides me. Just me-watching a Malay movie.<br /><br />Was it the love story? Unlikely since there are better love stories. Was it the ironic and discreet relationship between the Malay girl and Japanese soldier? Maybe. Was it because it was a story set during hardship and war? More likely because of this- I'm a sucker for this genre (think The Pianist and As Far as My Feet Will Carry Me). But maybe just maybe because it was a story about Malaysians, and not a bad crafting of the subject too. And I have my patriotic moments like on the eve of Merdeka when I'm sitting in this dingy waiting room I feel a sense of pride watching Embun.<br /><br />But why does noone else bother? That thought irritates me slightly.. Perhaps it was just early in the morning and the papers were more important to read since it details 2009's Budget and I'm a naive idealist having romantic ideas about patriotism. Who knows- perhaps back home all those people in the waiting room could be flying ten Malaysian flags from their balcony and even one of those mini ones at the top of their cars (though I highly doubt this theory).<br /><br />Later that night, as I sit in my living room in my <span style="font-style: italic;">flagless </span>house flipping channels just before midnight to see if there's any live broadcast on the Merdeka celebrations- there were none except of course the mandatory ones on the ever dreary RTM channels. Hmm looks like this sombre Merdeka mood extends even to the media.<br /><br />Whatever the reason may be- an uncertain political future for the country, the lack of stability at the current moment, the unforgiving hike in prices, there's still something to love about Malaysia for me- something way more intangible than all those- otherwise how do you explain people from war torn countries like Iraq who even after escaping dream of going home? I clearly remember some articles I read a while back about refugees who despite living comfortably in a new host country- still feel the yearning of their motherland.<br /><br />So no different here - I have not flown a flag this year, neither do I love the politicians or the inconsistency of government service or the biasness of privileges but there is something about Malaysia, <span style="font-style: italic;">tanah tumpah darahku</span>.sacredchildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12597088061561753976noreply@blogger.com1