This blog is to the Pernguin. He is my savior from that fucken adware. Never ever doubt the Pernguin when it comes to tech stuff.

At 3.23 a.m, I am finally able to use my MSN again. If Perng didn't exist, I would be condemned into eternal damnation of Boredom and Stupidity. Sob. Perng, my savior. Imagine if he didn't tell me about Mozilla. I'd be sitting in fronta monitor, dumb.. naively hoping that one day my MSN would miraculously work by itself again.

I have J's party to go to in 9 hours. I can't sleep. I overwhelmed with gratitude for this penguin.

If God really exist, may His blessings be with you.

Dad was in a good mood today. He asked me if I would like to get ice-cream with him. Best thing he said to me in weeks. Car trip to Baskin Robbins was hell, though. Kena screwed for this month's phone bill. Why is it that everytime something goes wrong, I'm always the creep behind it? Phone bills, missing house keys, messy tables...

Dad stopped by a roadside vendor to get his Chinese paper. I knew what they headlines would be. The front pages were all splashed with pictures of her and of Jackie Chan weeping. Anita Mui's dead. I don't know why I suddenly felt weak with sadness. Or maybe it was fear. Don't get me wrong, I'm no fan of hers, but it's scary how fragile life is. People die just like that. Every second, every where, like life itself was of no significance at all. We're just like billions and billions of tiny ants, and who cares if I squish one to it's end? Who cares about your age, about your goodness, about your prominence, about you?!!?!I'm darn scared of Death. I really am. I love my life too much to let go.

Dad then shooed me outta the car to get his project papers for him. HeHEhE managed to con three Pilot refills from him. >=)

Went to Video Ezy after that. I really really want to watch Sleepless in Seatle. I mean, it is THE romantic movie apparently, and it stars Meg Ryan!! Kate and Leopard sucks but You've Got Mail is the all time modern romantic comedy, people. At least I think so. =) I had a hard time choosing though. The Hours, Shakespeare in Love, Shallow Hal or Pirates of Caribbean? Choose 2. After much thinking and comparing, I sadly put down Shakespeare in Love and The Hours. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

Hehehe and now for Baskin Robbins. I felt like I was stepping into some kinda pink heaven. AaAaAAaA look at those 31 flavors. Boy am I spoilt for choices today. =) But 1 flavor trancends those 31. 1 flavor commanded supremacy over the other 30. 1 flavor, was to be bought home without question nor hesitation.

Chocolate. Chip. Cookie. Dough.

I watched gleefully as the fella packed in scoops after scoops of CCCD into the pint. Dad ordered a whole quart of Cookies 'n Cream for Kev, his reward for his PMR result. Bleah. I don't remember me getting that treatment.

Oh well. I ain't letting jealousy get to my happiness. I love ice-cream. What a kid huh? I love it. I remembered how J got me a $50 Haagen Daaz voucher for my Form 2 birthday present. I was so darn touched! What a thoughtful gift!! It's the only fattening food I let myself indulge in nowadays.

A pint of Baskin Robbins and 2 great VCDs. Pretty fruitful a day considering I didn't pay for them. I can't wait for tomorrow! We're gonna celebrate J's birthday and New Year's Eve! Woohoo!!

Damn man what is wrong with my messenger???!!!

Signing in to .NET MEssenger Service failed because password is incorrect or the sign-in name does not exist. If you have forgotten the password, click Help in the main window, and then click Help Topics.

To hell with the password jest!!@! I swear over my turtles that the password I typed is as correct as Goh Yi Xiong spells bullshit. I tried to open my hotmail account but it redirected me to some perfect nav site.

I'm DESPERATE. You hear me people?! ICQ is torturous as a medium for virtual communication. I mean, what blasphesmy it is to the constitution of communication! Whilst corporate giants are constantly improving their products for consumers' convenience and satisfaction, ICQ seems indifferent towards both the user and time. I mean, the chat settings are like, from, what century?! Yea I realise itz free service, but so is MSN!

I felt so sorry for dragging people (Sorry! =( ) to chat with me in that contemptuous piece of space that I decided to go offline early yesterday and read The Pearl instead. Pathetic life, ain't it? O well, at least there's still blogging to salvage something outta my misery.

So if anyone of you know anyway to solve this irritating problem, plz.. I'm imploring you to save me from this depressing situation... write to k_bluenet@yahoo.com.. since I can't even sign in to my hotmail account.

Til then, blog will replace MSN as my source of virtual entertainment. Hmm.. maybe I should play more pool. Sorry if I was irritating you with my whinings.

I fumbled sleepily for my handphone. The room was getting really stuffy now. My mum’s way of getting me outta bed by noon. Switch off the air-cond, sweet dreams and burn in hell. Works better than three alarm clocks, I swear.

Clock flashed 12:02 back at me. I knew I had to wake up for something important today, can’t for the hella me remember what.

2 messages received.

Must be him. Must be. He replied only to confirm my suspicions. I’m back to square one. There, I sat there staring stupidly into the air.

What a fantastic way to start a day. Do I feel sadness? Honestly, just a little. I mean, how can misery strike you if you expected it? More like, liberated from the stress of making stupid speculations and trying to guess what’s going on in that mind of his.

I’m serious. You’d expected some tears to come from this kinda situation. I did too. But it didn’t. And if people start going sorry on me with their suddenly pitiful faces, I will personally slap the sorry grimace outta them. I mean, for crying out loud, what exactly are you sorry about? What is there to be sorry about?!

2nd message was from Yeanz. A nice, touching reassurance of her faithfulness. I like the way Yeanz handled the news best, like it was just another lousy BM paper.

And then, it struck me like lightning. Damn. It’s Kev’s PMR result day.

Mum and Dad couldn’t make it this time, both consumed with “important” obligations. I remembered last year Dad took a day off just to be there with me. Sweet. Bet he regretted it. Wound up spending the whole morning driving around SS14 for a hair saloon place (tasteless asshole Wee + streaks of gold in Kell’s hair = a very pissed Daddy).

I rushed to his room. God, please, let him still be sleeping. Please. I promised the dude I’d go with him in place of Ma and Dad. Damn the alarm.

Unmade blankets, a pillow on the floor. What was I thinking? Sure the fella couldn’t sleep last night. He was probably up at 8, jittering about the next few hours, squishing with those other eager faces right now for the results. I mean, how could I not be there for the dude? What a sister.

Dude was downstairs playing PS2 like any other day.
I asked him what he was doing there.
He said he don’t know where to go, what to wear, how to get results.

I can’t believe I was cussing myself over this idiot.

It's Xmas eve already and looking at the way things are taking its course now, I think the Xmas eve dinner at the Wong's residence this year would be nothing more than... my mum's legendary porridge with Eu Zhak Kueh and maybe fried fish.

Dad's going through some course at Intan. Those bloody lecturers are making him give some speech at 6 p.m so frankly, I don't see how he can conjure up a miracle and save this year's dinner in 6 hours time.

Mum was more responsive to my whinings. She flipped through the Metro section but the prices pretty much annihilated her jolly ho-ho-ho spirit. She shoved the papers to me and asked me to pick three, which I know it would be a total waste of my time since

1. She didn't want to go down KL 'coz of the traffic
2. She didn't want to go anywhere "far" coz the feasibility of getting ourselves killed in the perilous path of drunk drivers is "worrying"
3. She didn't want chicken in our dishes 'coz Kev's in "recuperation" period and he's not suppose to consume chicken, egg, turkey, prawns, and anything "toxic".

Exasperated, I handed her a Japanese restaurant advertisement. Dad suggested pizzas.

Normally Aunt Janet would be the one salvaging my Xmas spirit and celebrations from my folks' indifference, bringing me to malls to do Xmas shopping, bestowing me wonderful gifts, splurging on delightful epicurean... "Once a year ma, don't worry.."

How could I ask a filial daughter, who quitted her five-figure job so she could be by her bed-ridden mother's side, to come out and contribute to the finance of my annual festivities?

Before I came up to blog, I took out our Xmas tree. Yerpz. On Xmas eve. It's pathetic really, the lack of festive ambience in our abode. It seems like, nobody bothers about Xmas except me. I remembered how I hafta beg like mad for a tree til Ma finally gave in and brought a $19.90 synthetic 2-feet one from Carrefour. It looked so miserable amongst it's larger cousins, but it'll do. It hafta. It's all I've got.

I looked at my baby lovingly now. No one gives a damn about her existence, the significance she is around here. But she's beautiful. I adorned her with Ma's crystle necklace, tons of showy ornaments, shiny tinsels... and when the lights are switched on... she's sparkles like diamonds, radiating an aura of hope and happiness.

I'm not a Christian, but my love for xmas is not a bit less than any X-tians out there. I love it for all the hope and love it brings to humanity, for taking us away from all our pointless enmities, for re-uniting friends and family, for all the good will it advocates.

So, 'spite all that bitterness... There are 2 most important things in my agenda. To call J and hope she has a helluva birthday, and to be by my granma's side on the strike of midnight. The table may not have a turkey on it, the tree maybe void of presents under it, the hi-fi may not be blasting Frosty the Snowman (hmm.. think I still can do something about that =) but that doesn't matter much anymore.

I'm surrounded by people I love and whom loves me more than I'll ever know. What more could I want?

Merry Christmas people!

Damn man...
I deleted half of my template without knowing it.. saved the changes..
republished the whole site
Closed the window

Typed www.pudeur.blogspot.com

Black screen with that irritating blogger banner glares back at me

I single-handedly destroyed a week's worth of toil
How fucken stupid can you get?
Cussin myself and all, I reconstructed the site in 2 hours

Realized what a dumbass I was 7 days ago
Takin a goddam week to build something that took me merely an hour & half just now

tellin' ya life's a bitch
Always revealing to you stuff you don't need to see and don't want to know
Tormenting you with the many what-ifs

Cursor’s blinking back at me incessantly, a silent challenge for me to write. I’ve spent the whole week retouching the site, searching for graphics, even managed to finish a dummy book on HTML. One thing about blogging: I realized what a brainless donkey I am when it comes to com stuff. Pitiful thing the com is, slaves to the dumber species. . condemned to eternal repetition of reading and analyzing lines after lines of monotonous data. But then gain, so are we.

After five thousand years of civilization, humanity is still under the reign of Terror. Sure we overcame ancestral fears such as flying and superstitions, but three years into the new millennium already, Terror is shrewdly insinuating itself upon its increasing number of unsuspecting hosts-- in the form of Poverty, Failure, omnipresent Death etc.

Fear, its less formidable cousin, is the reigning dictator of my life. My earliest recollection of it would be when we were still staying in that weather-beaten flat at Bukit Petaling. I remembered the cranky rumblings of Dad’s Starlet that got me racing towards the windows. I saw Kev ( bro #1) strayed away from the car, walking slowly towards the fire left by irresponsible neighbors, fascinated by the ocherous, dancing flames. Dad was still in the car, looking for some stuff.

I didn’t have any inkling of the danger Kev was in then. I watched him wander closer and closer towards Death’s door, allured by fatal beauty. Mum, who was in the apartment that time, came over to carry me away from the window. I remembered a blood-curling scream. It terrified me. By now, Dad was dashing over to Kev’s side. Too late.

I can’t for the hell of me remember what happened after that. Mum placed me into the cot, and from there, I saw Dad bursting into the door, Mum rummaging the apartment for her medical book. I could see Kev, dissected by the rattan bars of my cot, wailing, his screams crescendoing to the highest pitch, then slowly faded into uncontrollable fits of sobs. And there it was, the object that led me to my first encounter with Fear.

A pink, swollen, pus laden toe.

New day.. new blog.. new post.. from now on this is going to be my santuary of thoughts. No difference from a diary but at least my bros won't know about this unless they have telepathy.