Friday, March 31, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 2:30 pm

Everyone had their eyes on him. In his late 20s, he is a fairly small built Malay guy - approximately 165 centimetres and 110 pounds. He had on a pair of jeans and an army green long sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbow, and a black ski cap.

He was walking around just outside my office lobby, shouting and showing the international sign to everyone that crossed his path. Then, he went to the main road (Jalan Tun Perak – one of the busiest roads in Kuala Lumpur) and stopped some vehicles. Once he stopped them, he would start to shout and show his middle finger to the respective drivers. At one stage, he was even doing push-ups / sit-ups in the middle of the road.

Of course, he isn’t mentally sound. This reminded me of an incident that took place when I was studying in Australia.

It was a Wednesday morning. I remember that very well because Tuesday nights were always late nights for me – staying up to watch the weekly series that I never missed. Anyhow, I overslept by more than half an hour on that fateful morning, so I panicked big time when I got up.

I rushed like a mad cow and was practically running all the way to my university. It was always at auspicious times like these that I thanked God for my wise decision to stay on campus (although it costs 3 times more than renting a place off campus). I couldn’t miss lecture that day because my lecturer was supposed to give us exam tips. A true blessing indeed, these tips.

It was unfortunate that I did not know the door to the lecture theatre was locked because the security guard somehow had not opened it (he probably overslept too, staying up to watch the same series I did). Hence, the lecturer together with 40 other students was standing outside the theatre, waiting for the security guard to arrive.

Also, I did not know that a mentally unsound middle aged man had entered the university without proper authorization. He was (I was told later on by my friends) shouting and reprimanding everyone that crossed his path.

Now back to me. Where was I? Running. So I ran all the way until I reached my university. Once indoors, I had to run pass another long stretch of entrances to various lecture theatres before reaching the one my lecture was held in – which was right at the very end.

I was gasping for air as a reached the gigantic pillar. Once turning right after the pillar, I would be able to see the door that led to the theatre in which my lecture that was held that morning. The distance between the pillar and the door would be approximately 3 metres. I put my notes and books down beside the pillar, so I could tidy myself up (my hair, especially!) before making the grand entrance. I knew all eyes would be on me because I was superbly late.

As I hurriedly tidied myself up, the mentally unsound man (which I did not know was mentally unsound then) came from beside the pillar. It seemed like he just exited the theatre I was about to enter.

He was muttering something under his breath and I let him be because I thought he was talking to himself.

I was way too annoyed, frustrated and upset to pay any attention to him at all. As I had overslept, I did not manage to put anything into my black hole stomach. All that running really wore me out (because I am severely physically unfit) and caused the pulse in my head / hand / neck to beat really hard. My hair was in a horrible mess and my feet were aching like it never had.

Then, he pointed at me and screamed at the top of his voice, “Fuck you!!!”.

How dare he…

“FUCK YOU TOO!!!” I yelled.

He looked at me wide eyed and walked off.

I hurriedly picked my books up and turned right. It was then I saw my audience (Overslept starring Amie Lee) – my lecturer together with 40 other students, who were silently waiting for the security guard to arrive.

They were all staring at me with an assortment of expressions.
Monday, March 27, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 2:31 pm

A random (bored) thought: If I get pregnant now, what is going to happen?

Since abortions are not legal in Malaysia, I suppose my only options are:
  • To do it in Singapore (illegal abortions scare the hell out of me); or
  • To give birth to the baby (a bundle of burden indeed).

The thought of breaking the news to my conservative parents itself is enough to give me a panic attack. Imagine having to really do it!

If I should decide to abort the baby, travelling to Singapore and doing it there will incur quite a large expenditure. Do I have that kind of money to spare?

I for one am against local illegal abortions. They really freak me out, especially after all the stories I have heard. In addition, I do not know if they are actually hygiene conscious and experienced enough to perform such a crucial procedure.

If I should decide to keep the baby, should I marry the father of the baby? You must be thinking if the father of the baby will want to marry me. Newsflash: I don’t sleep with random men, only someone whom is committed enough to me to be jointly responsible should anything happen.

Anyhow, I think that a couple marrying due to unexpected pregnancy is somewhat coerced to do so. Hence they aren’t really all that ready to enter into that lifetime commitment with each other, be it financially or emotionally.

Assuming we do get married and have not bought a house together. Where are we going to live? Things are still under control if we can afford to buy one but complications will arise if we are not able to do so. Next the issue of filling the vacant house with furniture and settling upcoming bills will draw upon. Can we afford all that?

Whether we do or do not get married, the question of who will take care of the baby once it is born is another big headache. It is not economical to put your child at the babysitter’s place these days. What more with the maternity bills that have been incurred and all the past / present / future expenditures that the baby will incur.

What I have mentioned is only a small piece of the pie, there is definitely many more predicaments and problems in relation to this issue.

So what’s the conclusion?

Go figure. And don’t say I did not warn you.
Friday, March 24, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 11:37 am

I was at the Masjid Jamek Star line station yesterday, waiting for the Sri Petaling line train. For the benefit of those who are unfamiliar, the Star line is divided into two different lines (Sri Petaling and Ampang lines) that travel to each destination respectively.

When the Ampang line train arrived, I stood back quite a distance so that I wouldn’t be in the way of passengers boarding the train. As soon as the train left the platform, a Chinese lady (let’s call her Tomato) dashed towards the yellow line. She stopped at a spot where the train door was expected to be – if you take Star line trains you will know what I mean, which she gauged from the position of the Ampang line train. Though not precise (unlike Putra line trains whereby the location of each door is unchanging), it is a pretty good estimate.

Tomato was dressed in a faded deep red blazer like top with matching skirt. It was one of those matching suits that only women around my mother’s age would think is a fashion statement. That being said, she looked 50 to me. She is not round like a tomato but she sure is fat – so fat that she is rectangular shaped. Her stomach was surprisingly squarish rather than roundish. I’m not sure how tall she is exactly, but I do know she is shorter tan me.

As soon as I was done analysing her, I walked towards the yellow line and stopped right beside her on the right. I was parallel to her and when she noticed that, she took two steps in front. That meant she was already way past the yellow line. She is that kiasu! As if being parallel to her would give me a higher chance of getting a seat than her.

Then along came this Malay lady (let’s call her Pumpkin) who stood just beside me on my right – another kiasu case. She had a similar weight problem as Tomato, just that she is shorter and she smells funny. Just like Tomato, she too was dressed in a matching suit, but in grey and it was a long skirt rather than knee-length skirt.

Out of the blue, she flung her umbrella at my leg. MY PANTYHOSE!!! That fucking bitch of a pumpkin. I turned my head immediately and glared at her only to realise that she seemed not to notice that she had hit me. Her brain must be a really lagging one because she only realised and turned toward me a few seconds later. She looked me in the eye and nodded her fat, heavy head a couple of times – the motion people often display when greeting an acquaintance in the workplace.

What the hell was that supposed mean? I had expected an apology from her - even a soft, muttered under the breath apology would suffice. You know, those that always sound like some strange foreign language that disallows you to open your mouth. I suppose even that was too much to ask from a pig brain. Pardon my language but I was really pissed off by that oversized pumpkin!

When the train arrived, it slowly stopped at the platform. Hence Pumpkin was chasing for the door (which was supposed to open right in front of Tomato) and trailing it. Up to a certain point, I was standing in her way. Hence she resorted to pushing me in her chase and trail escapade. I do not know how to describe my feelings at that point in time.

The train finally stopped. Tomato and I were standing at opposite sides of the door, while Pumpkin was behind me – pushing with all her might. It turned out that the door we were all fighting for was defective as it only opened approximately 6 inches wide. Tomato and I stood still, waiting to see if the door would open further.

Pumpkin, however, made her way around me to the centre of the door. She then forced the door open with her hands and squeezed through. That was a sight indeed, watching her squeeze all that fat between the door just to get into the train and get a seat. Tomato gave me another sight by doing the exact same thing and I followed through, without any problem (I do not have weight problems like them, you see).

I did not feel angry or frustrated after that. The last bit made me feel good about everything. It was my first happily ever after episode in the Malaysian Light Rain Transit system.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 10:50 am

*Carina (my colleague who sits right beside me) tapped me on the shoulder and invited me to solve a logo quiz with her. Hence I moved my chair two feet to the right, where I stopped just behind her. We were busy squealing and pointing at the PC monitor until we reached a point when we gave up trying to match names with logos.

Then Carina called *Tim over as three heads are better than two. Tim stood right behind Carina and we continued cracking our heads.

Everything was going fine until
Old Mother Hubbard got up from her place. She asked, “What’s so interesting?” and walked towards us.

She walked right pass Tim, stood right in front of me and she stopped. All I could see after that was her ass that I have always adored so amorously. Boy was I glad she placed it in right in front of my face. It must have been my super lucky day.

I saw Tim looking at me so I exchanged a blank look with him. We were both thinking the same thing but none of us would stir any trouble by voicing it aloud.

Hence I moved back to my own place and made a phone call.

That was not the last of it. Following that, we had a meeting. As there weren’t sufficient seats in the meeting room, many of us had to stand. I was one of them. Old Mother Hubbard came from behind and stood right in front of me. As she was taller, all I could see was her discoloured and unruly mane.

She then had the cheek to turn back and asked if she was blocking my view. I managed a weak smile and that was it. From that moment on, I have officially decided to adopt Tim’s strategy: Never to have lunch with Old Mother Hubbard as long as I can help it.

* Names modified for privacy purposes
Thursday, March 16, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 2:36 pm

Yesterday, just about 15 minutes before our official office hours were up, I heard that the head of department wanted to see everyone under him individually in his room. He wanted to pass to us our bonus letters.

I looked as colleagues stood up one by one, heading towards his room. Some came back with grins, some with smiles, some with laughter… But I couldn’t care less because the only thing on my mind was when I was going to be called upon.

The wait made me really anxious. So anxious that my nerves came close to bursting and I could swear that my heart fell to the ground more than a few times. Actually, the worst part of the wait was the fact that it was time for me to head home but I couldn’t! What if I was called upon the moment I stepped out of the office?

So I waited and waited and waited.

I felt like a student, awaiting the first glance at my results as the teacher called out our names one by one. Those days were still crystal clear in my mind. I never did like the feeling and the way it made me feel.

But I continued to wait anyway.

The anticipation almost killed me. My hands were cold and I was shivering like it was a negative degree Celsius in the office. What’s worse, my heart kept submerging and rising – I felt that I was going to contract a stroke anytime. It was awful.

Then I had decided to put an end to my misery. I stormed to his (the head of department) room, told him that he had no right to put me in such an excruciating state and demanded for my bonus letter.

Kidding. What I really did was I went home.

Upon arriving at the office this morning, I saw an envelope on my table. Before doing anything else, I reached for a blade to kill myself. I hope you didn’t actually believe that. Why would I do such a dumb thing? The blade was used to open the envelope.

When I finally set my eyes on the letter, I sieved its content. Anything that did not look like numbers / figures, I skipped without thinking twice. Words of appreciation and gratitude meant nothing to me at a time like that.

With trembling hands, I finally found what I was looking for… It was then I felt that the weight of the world is off my back. Smiling from ear to ear, I then begin to think about what I could do what the new excess in my bank account.

Firstly, I will share some of it with my mother so that she could purchase some lovely things for herself. My father doesn’t need the money as he is still working (thank goodness). Secondly, I will take my family out for a really nice dinner at Shangri-La - Lemon Garden. That will add up to approximately one grand.

Thirdly, I will draw on a significant portion to settle my life insurance payment. After the 3 major plans, I no longer have a grand balance. Hence, whatever that is left should stay in my bank account to support the “Saving for a Rainy Day” notion.

The grand conclusion: I am left with nothing for some decent shopping. Life!
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 1:42 pm

After lunch today, I wanted to take a walk. That was because I had stuffed way too much edibles into my stomach. Hence I felt like an overdue pregnant lady.

I wanted to walk somewhere that the scorching sun would be a true rarity. With that, I decided to head to the Masjid Jamek Putra line station. It was an air-conditioned underground passageway and totally scorch-free.

As I headed towards the passageway, a crowd was walking past me in the opposite direction. That was pretty normal but something / someone very distinctive from the crowd caught my eye.

It was an Osama bin Laden look alike.

But that wasn’t it. Please allow me to elaborate.

He is a frail man around 170 centimetres in height and weighs approximately 55 kilograms. His skin texture and tone is alike Osama’s - tanned, wrinkled and blemished.

He was wearing the white thing (hat or cap or whatever you call it) that most Muslims do on his head, with his grey and white coloured hair neatly tucked underneath.

He wore a dark green dress, that draped him from shoulder to toe. Alright, it is not a dress but it sure looked like one. It is the long gown (I still insist that it is a dress) that you see Osama in all the time - just that Osama’s is white.

A pair of light brown sandals wrapped his feet.

Pinned to the dark green dress, on his chest, was a piece on A4 paper. On it were four words in Bahasa Melayu (Malaysia’s national language) that filled more than three quarter of the paper. These words were nicely printed in capital letters, most likely Times New Roman font size 72.

The four words were:


This is translated to English as “I am head scientist of the world”.

I nearly had a fit after seeing that. Some people can really be so screwed up.
Monday, March 13, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 3:06 pm

I was out for a simple one hour lunch (anything exceeding that will get a few disapproving nods from the you-know-whos) with my usual clique today. They came over to my office from various locations just to exchange a few glances of placing edibles into the mouth, chewing and swallowing them. Of course, there was also the frequent exchange of words in the English language, an action known as communication.

One of the topics that came up (which lasted so long I almost breached my one hour curfew) was “Settling down”. From all the answers I have gathered – from my clique as well as other friends and people, I have come to the conclusion that ladies of the modern world prefer to marry much later than men.

This is because they want to enjoy the freedom of (whether or not you guys like to hear it, here goes…) flirting around. It seems that the conventional thinking is that men are never serious when it comes to relationships but these days, the tables have turned. I often hear men making statements that women are getting out of control and have became just like what the men once were. The men, in turn, have evolved into what the women once were.

Even if they are attached (be it to a man the girl deems irreplaceable, i.e. Mr Very Right), they still tend to and want to flirt, one way or another. The word “flirt” in this context can go to any extent of flirt you can possibly imagine. Verbal, oral, physical, very physical, super physical, extremely physical… This means it even reaches the most physical extent you have in your mind (so let your imagination run wild).

The solution to this problem?

Fortunately, there is one. Reserve the girl. Marry her. If the girl is willing to marry you, it only comes to show that she is ready for commitment (no method of force or threat should be used to obtain consent). Therefore, the only reason she has been wandering around is because she still feels unsecured for some reason or another. Once she is married, she will no longer feel that way.

Also, women tend to be more committed and serious about marriage than relationships in general. However, do note that this solution is only applicable to men who are ready for such a “big” commitment (otherwise, find your own solution because I have none to offer). Marrying the girl with the sole purpose of reserving her isn’t exactly the best thing to do.

So, what about it guys? I have already provided a solution to the problem. The ball is in your court.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 1:08 pm

Ever wondered why many ladies are still single and available? Here is a list of reasoning forwarded to me by a girlfriend, followed by my personal opinion:

  • The nice men are ugly (I suppose if men are ugly they have to be nice or else they will definitely end up being single);
  • The handsome men are not nice (DUH... Need I say more?);
  • The handsome and nice men are gay (Tell me about it! I wonder if it is possible to make them straight?);
  • The handsome, nice and heterosexual men are married (Damn those lucky girls);
  • The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men, have no money (Who said the world is fair?);
  • The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men with money think we are only after their money (Sadly... And there is nothing I can do about that);
  • The handsome men without money are after our money (Hence we share the same mindset as the type of men mentioned in 6, above?);
  • The handsome men, who are not so nice and somewhat heterosexual, don't think we are beautiful enough (Small matter, that can be easily corrected);
  • The men who think we are beautiful, that are heterosexual, somewhat nice and have money, are cowards (But why? Why? Why?!);
  • The men who are somewhat handsome, somewhat nice and have some money and thank God are heterosexual, are shy and NEVER MAKE THE FIRST MOVE!!! (Sigh... Sigh... Sigh...); and
  • The men who never make the first move, automatically lose interest in us when we take the initiative (Single girls out there, better group up to buy a huge house together so you won't have to grow old alone).

My girlfriend added one to the list:
  • The men who are not so handsome, not so nice, have no money and are somewhat heterosexual, are not good enough (Looks a fair amount of compromising has to be done in life).

Therefore, I can safely conclude that all good and eligible men are either taken or gay. As for the ones that are left behind... Don't even think about it. They are either hopeless or hopeful but too shy to make the first move. The one thing that puts ladies of the most (probably more than half the time) are cowardly men.

This is a serious problem that needs to be addressed... However, I do not think there actually is a remedy to it. The population of the world will then decrease and humans will become extinct, just like the good old dinosaurs (this was probably the same reason that caused their extinction). Meanwhile, I shall do my part to contribute to the world's decreasing population... "Sweetheart, you free tonight?"
Thursday, March 02, 2006
posted by Amie Lee at 9:08 pm

As I switched off my PC to head home, I decided to empty my bladder in the ladies before I left. I walked slowly towards the ladies while looking out the glass windows on my right hand side to look at the historical Klang River (or drain).

When I reached the ladies, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. All the cubicles were occupied hence I stood beside the window to look at the filthy Klang River once again, while waiting for someone to come out from either one of the cubicles.

Then I heard a flush from the cubicle just in front of where I was standing. I looked up and saw Old Mother Hubbard exiting a cubicle.

Why I call her Old Mother Hubbard? She looks old... Haggard actually, for her age. She is only 30 but she already has well defined lines and wrinkles. She eats really slow and following that, she has this horrifying habit of cleaning her teeth with her tongue. She also does that gesture where she slants her mouth down repeatedly while chewing – to get the food out from behind her teeth, I suppose. Mind you, I am not the only one who commented on her apparent habits.

Due to some reason, we are supposed to have good relations – but that does not seem to be the case. Do not misunderstand for I have nothing against her and I am pretty sure she feels the same way too. We do have lunch together occasionally (in a group) and we do have casual chats every now and then. She is generally a very quiet person... I have tried to talk to her more often and to get closer to her but I failed to succeed.

Her skirts are tilted most of the time and once, I even saw her buckle wide opened. She has a nice body, it is only her face that really lacks all the attention. I do not wish to bitch about her for she is a nice person (generally), but there is one thing about her that I can never get over... She never greets or even smiles at anyone she bumps into at the office (in the lift, washroom or pantry). I do not know why the hostility.

All of that bundled to form my perception of Old Mother Hubbard.

Now back to where I stopped... As she exited the cubicle, our eyes met. Just when I was about to smile, she looked away and walked off as fast as she could. I said, “Hi!” as she walked pass me, hoping she would reply to that but she did not. Hence I ended up looking like a fool greeting myself. As always.

Everytime I greeted her, I swore never to do it again. This time, I mean it for real!