Time Wasted and Wasting People

Yesterday a friend wanted me to drive him to town for some errands. He wanted me to pick him up at 4.00 pm, and graciously I said OK.


And then at almost 4.00 pm, he texted me and said if I can come much later, say 4.20 pm because he had to meet some people who owed him money. And again I said, OK.


Came 4.20 and I was already at the designated spot, he texted me again to wait until he arrived because the people who promised to meet him didn't show up yet.


This time I didn't say OK, and you can say I was royally pissed.


I hate waiting for people. Because all my life, very few people waited for me.
WHY?
Because I am ALWAYS on time.

Classy people are rarely late, and as I literally have CLASS(es) (as a teacher), I am not known to be late. That's why I secretly look down upon tardiness, no matter who you are. That hundred ringgit worth of watch on your wrist is not only a fashion statement, it also tells time.

Once a long long time ago, a dear friend made me appreciate my very own personal time. He had me waiting for him 5 hours, while he was sleeping away the afternoon, and I only knew about this when his mother picked up the phone and told me his son had just woke up, and was still lazing around the house, when he called me much earlier saying he was already halfway to see me.

It really broke my heart.... (and this guy never see me again)

After that, I made it a personal agenda to tell my friends and (fewer) new friends how I HATE waiting. You make me wait, better have a very valid reason WITH proof. And I lost some friends this way.... but hell, its much better this way. You don't respect me, and I don't have to keep you as a friend.

p.s. - I was not angry with my earlier friend as he KNOWS my wrath is akin to Smaug, the Dragon. I told him to waste his friends, saying if they owed money from you, you have actual power over them, not the other way around. (Lessons over money lending soon....)



Of Star Wars and Pink Netbooks

My housemates never watched Star Wars before, and as I am so hyped for the latest 

installment this December ("The Force Awakens"), I had to force them to watch both 

previous trilogies on my Bluray player (and yes, I have the box dvd, every fan should 

have wot?)

So, two nights ago we started on “Star Wars IV; A New Hope” and last night we 

continued with “Star Wars V; The Empire Strikes Back”. When I asked them when do

 they think the films were made, both said maybe earlier this millennium. When I told them the first movie was released in 1977, they cannot believe it at first. Heck, even I 
cannot believe it myself while watching starcruisers chasing the 
Millennium Falcon on glorious HDTV. Its cinematic orgasm, I tell ye!

Anyway that is beside the point. I was born a year after the first Star Wars, 
but was only

 able to watch it in the late 1980s, when we had our first colour tv. I didn't understand 

much at the time, but heck EVERYBODY knows Darth Vader. I even wished to grow up to be a Sith Lord (no secret there to those who knew me). Galactic domination! Red 

lightsabers are cool! And to kill anyone through tv screens! Yay!

(Makes me very good in reading people... and then manipulating them later)

I am typing all this using an Acer netbook. My Asus notebook died on me after only a 

year (making me hate the brand and not wanting to do anything with it anymore). A 

netbook is indeed smaller, and WAY slower. But it does it job, as I only use this 
netbook to blog and do some light work and browsing.

But some people just cannot understand why the colour is pink.... 
(“It’s so not you....”) I told them

 that was the only colour left, when all the blues, reds and silvers were out of stock. 
And is it so hard

 to imagine a Sith Lord with a pink death ray console?

Anyhow I read somewhere; it is a very brave man who sports pink (not gay, ok!)

Fist bump.... Fa la la la la!

I will be 36 this coming 3rd of December.

36.... still cannot believe I am approaching the BIG 40. I still remembered when I was in my mid 20s and wished to live forever. It seems like yesterday....

Anyhow. Life has its ups and downs. I am sorry I wasn't able to blog it all here, mainly because I found that Facebook is so much easier to use. (Click on the blue F icon and hey presto!) I feel so guilty of leaving my blog for so long.

Blogging was once a passion. And if a passion dies, usually because it was replaced by something else altogether. But I think to let blogging off just like that is kind of impossible.
I spent too much time on it before, typed thousands of words and uploaded dozens of pictures. I got some major memories etched here, and those will refuse to go away in the middle of the night.

So, here we go again (for the third time).

History of Hair

Rock Chef of the Rock Chef's Warren blogged about his hair a couple of hours ago and I decided to blog about mine too. Not the one now, but the one I coloured a long while ago.

Look at the character on the left... This is Iori Yagami of the King of Fighter, an arcade game franchise very popular in the late 90s. He happened to be my muse when I was in secondary school, 16 year old me, who was already seeped in irony, fights and evil. Much like his hero. <--

So during the midyear holidays that year, 1997 I coloured my hair with Clairol's 'Burgundy' hair colour. I did it myself and was rather lacking on the 'never let the dye touch the scalp' direction. I paid for ignoring that direction... but that comes later.

My hair was flaming red in the sun! Back then, in a society of 100% black hair, I stood out like a lighthouse! People pointed and children stared. It was not a natural colour for anyone.

My dad, who was always the silent one, one day remarked that he was now FAMOUS, having a son with bright red hair. Everybody in our small town knew about me he said. My mom, believing it was only teen-angst, left me be.

I returned back to boarding school in anticipation... My school mates were shocked, but never dared to comment (I was brutal back than to criticism). I was only worried about the reaction of the teachers.... as I thought the sun and moon of them, i.e. very highly. If they reacted badly, I would be so downcasted.

The first school assembly with red haired me, I admitted that I was so afraid they would call me up to the front and have a row. But NOTHING towards that happened. The teachers were aware of me (the gossiping escalated a notch at their seats), as I stood right in the front of my class row. The Principal and Vice Principal noticed too.  I had my heart drumming like crazy, but NOTHING happened...


On the third day of school, at last I dared to ask my History teacher (who was quite chummy with us) about the why. He said, yes, the teachers saw me and right after that assembly they went searching inside the school's rule book about hair dyes... and they found there was NO RULE against it. No rule, so I was legally safe. (Synthetic hair dyes were quite new to Malaysia back then). So there will be one in the NEXT YEAR'S rule book.


Sometimes I didn't believe those days happened, but they did. The only boy in school with red hair. Unfortunately I didn't have pictures, (no camera rule) :P But I did look good back then.

Now to the part when I ignored the direction... As I coloured my hair myself, it was a messy and sticky job and I might have used too much colouring too. And my scalp was totally seeped with it... My red hair lasted for almost TWO YEARS because of that one time of colouring. Fortunately I didn't get bald or I'll kill myself for my own stupidity. The reddish tint disappeared by the second year gradually.

Talking about long lasting hair colour...


So that's all folks. Now we can see people with colourful hair walking the streets with no one batting an eyelid. The world has changed.


What colour is your hair today? :)

Watched, Reading and Walked with Harry

Yes, I watched "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" three days ago with eight friends (wow! Does he have that many friends or he made it all up?) and it was an OK film. My friends REALLY hated me when I told them that Dumbledore was going to die some 15 minutes before his actual death in the film. I've read the entire series and was comparing my notes to the unfolding cinematography on the silverscreen.

Read the books first before watching the films. It helps to answer a lot of questions afterwards.

And now (yes, this very moment) I am at page 262 of the last book "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". The movie will only be shown next year or later but I need to polish my memory of these extraordinary books first. And I usually enjoy reading my fav books more than twice, and this IS my second go at the particular series. Very moody, dark and full of negative vibes. J.K. Rowling did good by ending the series.

Even I would be sick of Harry Potter, the extended series (if she decided to rake in more money).

On a lighter note, I had a friend who is the splitting image of Daniel Radcliffe when I was in secondary school (this is WAY before Harry Potter ever existed). He was fair, dark haired and wore specs too. [Will not put his name here for security sake].

The last time I met him when we were walking around KLCC (2002), looking for my Terry Pratchett's books. He was TRAFFIC-STOPPINGLY good looking. People actually paused whatever they were doing when he walked past. THAT good looking. As for me, I felt like mud dragging underneath his feet (did not wish to feel like that ever again).

I told him afterwards that I would never go out with him anymore. He said why not. He's a nice person but I don't like to be overshadowed, no, eclipsed by someone that badly (It's a Darklord trait).

The last I heard of him, he was expelled from the overseas university he attended - for being involved in various free-sex relationships and negligence in study.

:) Well, go figure.

Evil Teacher Strikes Again

Parents are allowed to come into class today for the 'Meet the Teachers' programme. This is held twice a year, after the mid term and the final term exams. Parents are briefed about the school's policy and they can ask the teachers about the performance of their children in class.

I am the class teacher of 2 C. There are 14 boys and 15 girls under me and I have their result sheets in my hands. I have a lot of things to say to visiting parents... Let's say today is a good day for revenge.

So the influx of parents started at 9.00 am. There were more parents than I expected, but no matter. I used to stutter when I was young but this grown man has a new nickname - Silvertongue, I can talk my way to people's destruction.

Parents were surprised. Parents were saddened. Parents were angered (not at me). Woe to the students who vexed me in class. I told EVERYTHING to their parents. The laziness. The truancy. The rudeness. And a couple of fathers SLAPPED their precious daughters in front of the entire class, so ashamed of their own spawns. Tears were shed, not that I care.

I've warned them before. Cross me and you'll get what you deserve. I was actually smiling while other people were in shock.

But I was not a complete beast, ok? Good and polite students (I treasure these more than clever students) received glowing praises from me. And the look on their parents' faces were of pride and joy. We talked about the children progress and most parents just agreed whatever advice I recommended for them.

Tomorrow is another schooling day. And after school I'm going to watch 'Transformers 2' with eleven people I work with. :)

Ruining lives (of snobbish students) is a hard but satisfying work. :)

And I've read this quote somewhere by Alfred Hitchcock;

"Revenge is sweet and not fattening." How true.

The 2nd Night at The Museum and The Things that Can Make You Puke

How nice it is to be a popular teacher... Erm yesterday a couple of last year students asked me out on a movie-and-dinner-date (ok ok, both are boys) to celebrate the belated Teacher's Day (I still have a few presents on my desk from slow-coaches). We went to watch 'Night at The Museum 2'.

I wanted to watch 'Aliens Vs Monsters' at first but the show was only at midnight and as an (grudgingly) understanding person, I settled for second best - Museum. (I watched X-Men, Star Trek, Push, and Angels & Demons already).

Let's see... the movie was ok. Bigger than ever, with new casts and more action. It would draw chuckles and grins but never out-loud laughs. I fondly remembers the banter between Kahmunrah (Hank Azaria) and Ben Stiller regarding hostage exchange - its a classic playground quarrel. :) And what's so terrible about Ivan? He said he was actually Ivan the 'Awesome'. Mwa ha ha ha!

But really. They can do even better than this. I'm not rushing to buy a dvd of this, meaning it's not a memorable movie to share with my grandchildren. Ha!

Anyway after the movie we went to the Chicken Rice Shop for dinner. It was rather cute to see my students excusing themself 'to do something' before entering the eatery. I knew they wanted to go to the ATM and furiously culculating the cost after looking at the menu. *Evil grin*

So we had our dinner with me GRACIOUSLY not ordering extravagantly, even though I obviously not going to pay for anything. And here it comes lads...

I found a very long strand of hair in my fav dish - kailan in oyster sauce. We sent it back for a new plate. Oh and wait.... my student found a rather large ant in his ice-lemon tea drink. We also sent this back with the waiter apologizing profusely. And all bad things must come in threes.... My OTHER student found an eyelash on his plate while he was almost finished.

Wow. I am not a fussy eater but I imagine some people just cannot tolerate these abuses. I remembered being a health-inspector during my practical - and I personally closed several eating shops MERCILESSLY because of their bad hygiene (and maybe I was a brutal bugger). Well, it's something to remember and as a cutting repartee before departing to the cashier - "You guys must have some hairfall disease in the kitchen to serve us such delicacy. Don't do this again. Some people can use this to sue you."

Hope you guys have a swell weekend - free of any hair in your meals.

The 'hairy' meal finished. See? Waste not, want not.

Stolen Pleasure (Literally)

I was writing my teaching report an hour earlier, while wondering what else would I type for an entry tonight. Then the answer was right at my fingertips - my own pen.

Well, I love this particular fountain pen so much. Come to think of it... I am the only one I know of who used a fountain pen in school, heck, anywhere I've been. I use my fountain pen for writing and drawing doodles in boring meetings. I tried using fountain pens to mark students' books but the red ink in the market is unsatisfactory for the job. I am using Scheaffer's black ink - which is much better than Parker's (which is watery, feels cheated).

This particular fountain pen is actually ancient, made from China - HERO 329. The tip is yellowish, and I guess it is of some copper alloy, very different from new fountain pens today, which are tipped with harder metals. So my pen tip is actually smoother, heck - the best fountain pen I have right now. I also have some Parkers, Shaeffers, Allan d'Louis etc but this cheaply made fountain pen is still the best, with consistant ink flow and smooth writing.

The best and most interesting thing about this pen is.... it was STOLEN. And I forgot from whom because the deed was done a long long time ago (7 years ago, I think). I even admit to my students about the origin of the fountain pen (because, they also never seen anyone else using fountain pens). I think fountain pens oozes class. Too bad they are now so out of use, or just extravagantly priced. Most can see fountain pens in use during the signing of official documents ONLY. *sigh*

Are you fond of any particular piece of stationery?

p.s. - tomorrow after school I might visit some older Chinese-owned grocery shops and ask if they do have the same fountain pen I do. This pen was never sold in supermarkets in the first place, and is now considered an antique. I want to find a spare. Good things must come in two.    

The Things Girls Leave on Their Plates.

I was having my late breakfast (9.20 am, after a class) when I noticed the many leftovers on the canteen's dining table. Today's morning menu was chicken with fried rice and they were rather good. These abandoned food on the plates in front of me were left by teachers - FEMALE teachers to be exact.

My mom always tell me to finish your food, no matter how bad it taste because it is a gift from God. To waste food is being ungrateful, and there is no sense of wasting good food like these. I was thinking of the children in Africa and Palestine who were starving because food were scarce. Pity.

Erm, I am well versed in the female minds, believe it or not. Girls / women are extremely picky eaters (if they food was shop-bought) and would only eat the parts that they like. Even worse when more than two women sit together for a meal... they have to be careful with what they eat in company! Too much food would brand you as greedy, and small portions are posh. And while they eat... they will condemn on the price and the taste.... I just would like to tell them this; go home and cook your own damn meal!

I am not a bigot. Many of my friends are girls and older ladies. I missed my university years when I brought two or three girls along for lunch or dinner. These friends knew me and they were never afraid to eat with gusto with me at the same table. These girls DID finish their plates, and sometimes asked for seconds. 

Erm...

As I entered the staffroom to get my things after the last period, I saw some older female teachers were animatedly discussing something at the common table. One of them pointed and called me to join them.

"Yes?"

"We would like to know something if you don't mind."

"Ask away."

"What do you use on your face? Any expensive facial scrubs? We know you don't use make up."

"I use nothing but water." From their faces, I didn't think they believe me.

But really; I only use water to clean my face. And eat lots of green vegetables, tomatoes, onions and garlic for general health and skin. I took the picture below on my way home (yes, I was driving). Do I feel vain, or do I really look prettier than you? :)

I still have the surnburn from last week's Sports Day. And lookie, lookie, notice the different colour of the eyes. I wore contact lenses this morning; a mismatch of amethyst and grey. Those who stood near enough would notice the difference.

I don't do green or blue. Too pretentious. :)

La la la lah 6

I listened to the radio since very young, because the tv programme only starts at 9.00 am (a long time ago) and I got nothing else to do at home. When I was in primary school, I preferred to listen to English-language stations because the songs were good and sometimes catchy. My mother and grandmother had no objections because they got another radio playing 'keronchong' in the kitchen. I hate 'keronchong' and thank goodness it is almost extinct.

The old songs were beautiful; and I listened to a variety of them, from disco to the early 50s soul music. Unfortunately I never knew most of the songs titles and this made downloading them a bit tricky. For now I've succeeded downloading a few song's from the Platters, Everly Brothers, Earth Wind and Fire, Boney M, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, the Carpenters etc.

Tell me about your favourite golden oldies.

p.s - now listening to 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'

I Was A Walking Dictionary

After attending a wedding ceremony this afternoon, my mother decided to visit her friend who got into an accident three days ago. As usual, I had to tag along because I love attending any wedding ceremony for the free food and the chance to criticise it later. And I don't mind the detour because as a dutiful son; mother is first.

My mother's friend broke a few bones on her right ribs and naturally wears a sling. There are a lot of people in the house; family, relatives and visitors like us. While sitting on the floor in front of her friend, my mum started to talk animatedly with her other friend, who happens to be the poor victim's older sister and both siblings (no surprise) are also teachers. The older teacher; Cikgu Midah; asked if I remembered her teaching me in primary school. I told her I remembered. 

"You were my walking dictionary. Remember the times when we did English translating and most of your friends never brought their dictionaries? All I had to do was ask you the meaning of words because I was also too lazy to bring my dictionary," she said with a laugh. I had forgotten all about it, but the memory came back to me. I was the ultimate teachers' pet in school.

I was likable, with the cute haircut so-much-like Damien of Omen I, II and III (remake too). My teachers from primary to secondary school had never forgotten me for some nice reasons which I will not bore you with. It is nice to be remembered thus.