Monday, November 30, 2009

orkid's cafe: ignoring the cleavage

I know you might think that I'm unstable.

I was hurt. Sorry for making a hasty decision last week. I found the comment was excessive from someone who supposed to motivate me. But then I was a fool who expected too much. I won't expect too much anymore. I should have known:)

Don't blame Pocket, okay! Pocket has got nothing to do with my decision of closing this blog whatsoever. He has been nice and kind. A big brother through and through:)

So, I'm keeping this blog and not shutting it down.

Hooooraaayyy or up to you, dearest.
I can't please everyone:)

Move on to the other news...
The month of November is the month for Orkid's Cafe. I managed to fulfill some requests for postings on certain recipes but I haven't publish some of the dish requested like Petai Bakar from Kak Ashley or Salmon Pocket from Pocket or Mee Kari Papparazzi from Kak Azz. Guess what?

I'm going to shut down Orkid's Cafe for a moment. It will be opened again in 2010. Hopefully, I will be able to write intresting stories the next time I'll re-open Orkid's Cafe. Just be patient, okay!

Here comes my topic of the day...

The clip above is a video of Laura Calder's French Food At Home (click for delicious recipes!) which is my favourite cooking program. Well, actually I like all cooking program in general but this is currently on top of my list.

One good thing about this program is that it focuses on the ingredient and food preparation rather than focusing on Laura Calder as a host. I mean, you can definitely see her cleavage there and then but that was not the main focus.

Look at the way she was kneading the dough.
Or the way she cut the strawberries.
Or the way she was measuring the flour.

That was the focus.

I love the sound of the asparagus when they were cut, the hissing sound of food on the stove. These are the things we should get from a cooking show. If you want to focus on the host, you might as well create a travelling cook show like Bourdain's or Chef Michael Smith.

I dare to say that I was sad to see that our chefs are more focus on the sarong that they were wearing during the show. They focused on the way they sat down on the rocks while cooking. The nagged about how we should take care of our children while their children's faces are plastered on newspapers. They flip and flap their hands while talking - and they look like the octopus they were cooking.

Or perhaps, the purpose of a cooking show is to show off the big house of an artiste who just got married to a rich man.

No disrespect - but the approach is for me old-fashion and boring.

Is it because our chefs love to be exposed?
Or our cameramen are one-dimensional - they can't focus on the food?
Our producers are not making their homework, they didn't even watch Nigella or Jamie, or even Laura in YouTube?

I watched The New Scandinavian Cooking and a show which mentioned the chef's name in his real habitat. I found huge differences. The Scandinavian chefs were not really fluent in English but I managed to understand what they were saying. But the so-called Malaysian Food Ambassador was nagging and babbling until I couldn't pick a word he was saying throughout the show.

I think his Malay cooking show is better:)

A cooking show is just like a blog.

My blog might not be perfect for some of you out there but I have been living with this blog longer than you know. I have been blogging and my style of blogging might not be similar to others but that is just the way I am.

I have all the right to dislike a nagging Malaysian chef.
You have the right to dislike me.

I have the right of not showing my cleavage.
You have the right to ask for the picture which I might not going to show:)

By all means, we all have rights.

Take care.
Fernando is calling his mummy:P

p/s: I'm dropping some blogs off my blog list today.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

orkid's cafe: budi setahun segunung intan

He said he loved me. I knew he loved me. His eyes said so. Sometimes when he thought that I didn't notice, he would look at me while I was doing my work. I felt the stare and when I did, a tingle of warmth crept from my heart up to my cheeks and a precious smile of mine would form easily. I would look up and stare at him to blow my smile.

Being wicked, he would pretend as if he didn't do anything. But he couldn't lie - for I knew that his ghost of smile would certainly haunt me as he walked away to do his chores.

I'm missing the time of our breakfast together. Every morning, he would wake me up with; "Princess, open your eyes." And I would say, "Give me a minute, I need to brush first." He would then teased me with, "I think you should use that thing from Colgate, my love." I smiled. A good way of starting a day.

We would sit in mamak, reading our favourite newspaper together. He frowned lesser than me, but he laughed a lot. I always believe in the opposite attraction. He would show me all the good news after I showed him the bad news. The heat of discussion would never turned cold with him. He was smart, playful and thoughtful at the same time.

He didn't mind an extra egg on my Roti Jantan because we dipped into the sunny side eggs in the same plate. He would ask me to drink the Susu Halia from his cup, because he always believe that drinking from the same cup would make our love grow.

While he was licking the yolk on his lips, I would smile - thinking that I was the luckiest girl in the world.

But that has changed.

He hasn't been talking to me for days. I'm feeling like singing the song of Agnes Monica,

"Kau kekasihku tapi orang lain bagiku."

Silent treatment was killing me. I hoped that he would stop doing so. I was the one who supposed to get angry, not him. He was the one who was cheating on me!!!

It was my fault of not respecting his privacy. It was my fault that I checked his cell phone.
But who in the hell was Mek?!

When I confronted him, he got angry. He became silent. I begged for explanation. He grew quiet since Thursday. Before this he still said yes or no, but now he only nodded his head. My worst fear was controlling my head. It started to sing Rossa's song, Takdir Cinta.

"Andai aku bisa lebih adil pada cinta kau dan dia..."

I couldn't hold it anymore. We must talk.

"My love, who is Mek?" I asked him.

"Someone I love," he answered.

"You love her more than you love me?"


I felt the sting behind my head and tears started to slide on my cheeks. I checked my composure and straightened my shoulders. We must continue regardless of how sad I'm going to be.

"How long have you been with her?"

"More than you know." his eyes were cold.

"Why? Am I not treating you good enough?" I cried.

"You do. It's just know. I'm hiding something from you," he said.

"There must be something! Don't lie, darling. What have I done wrong to you?" my shoulders shook with grief.

"I have a family somewhere in Malaysia. Not just you," he said slowly.

"Nooooo..." I cried.

How could he? I thought I don't have to go through all this again. I don't have beauty or smartness. But why did he kept it secret? A family! That's huge! I didn't know that I have to share! Or is he going to tell me that I'm just his object for amusement? He no longer need me?

"Sirih sekapurlah abang
Berseri muka
Bunga setangkai cik abang
Penyambut kata
Kalau tuan sayang hamba
Tidaklah padi berusang hamba

Takkan berusanglah abang
Padi diladang
Takkan terbang hai abang
Pipit di ladang
Kekasih rindu dikenang
Budi setahun segunung intan"

I heard myself singing Ahmad Jais's song.

I cried my heart out.

"Kakak! Dah...tak payah kupas bawang ni lagi. Air mata kau meleleh-leleh. Kupas bawang lagi teruk mata kau..." I heard ibu's voice.

I looked at the onions in front of me. My puffy eyes are not functioning properly. I couldn't see clearly. I took the tissues and dabbed it on my cheeks and left the kitchen.

I was daydreaming.


But that was a nightmare. It was neither romantic nor sweet. It was scary!

I adjusted my pink pillow and made myself comfortable. I needed to rest my sore eyes.

When I closed my eyes, I saw him again.

"Mek is my aunty who migrated from New York to Newcastle," he told me while holding me close.

Yes, I'm short. Malaysian height. Duuuhhh!!!

"Newcastle?" I asked curiously.

" Bharu. Sorry." His wicked grin restored on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"They are now in Tumpat. Thing is, we can't go there. They told me there's a flood somewhere in that area. I'm just upset because I'm not with my family," he explained.

"And I was being jealous and everything?"

"Yup. I know how you feel about Kelantan after the Malaysian Cup, my sweet. If it is not much of a trouble, can we celebrate Raya Haji in Kelantan next year?"


"Give me some sugar," he smiled.

Ooo...I need to censor that part. Sorry!!!

My Jack is actually Abe Jack.


So much for jealousy. Even in my dreams.

I still wanted to end it with dreams. Not nightmare:)

Click for the story and pictures.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha to all Kelantanese.
I know you're still celebrating.
That's one good thing that I will certainly acknowledge.

Sha is not that mean, you see:P

Saturday, November 28, 2009

orkid's cafe: ida nerina ate frog legs?

Fried FROG Legs
Originally uploaded by
My eyes are enduring the worst uncomfortable pain I've ever had while I'm writing this. While I was trying to comment on your blogs (especially to the ones who had kindly visited my blog - Thank You), I just realised that my eyes are not using its full ability. I have small eyes. SEPET. So, since the eyes sore is making my eyes bulging like a frog's - the chances of me opening my eyes are very limited.

I spent my Hari Raya sleeping because my eyes tire easily.

My parents went back to my grandmother's house without me. I did not managed to taste the ever so delicious meal cooked by my grandmother.

I was alone in my house, trying to be a good parent to Jenab and Fernando Bulu. Unfortunately, my babies were having lack of attention. Jenab ate in the afternoon and did not get cleaned earlier. My Fernando did not managed to play with me. He posed for pictures but the pictures I've taken were not focused correctly. Poor babies. I'll show you Fernando's pictures once my brothers are not using the camera.

Since I was handicapped, I tried to watch TV with lesser concentration. I loved what Astro did for the Malaysians. This year, they are showing few programs for the pilgrims in Mecca; and a nice drama starred by Vanidah Imran. Thank you, Astro Oasis. I think this should be continued. The good news for our family was that we managed to watch my uncle interviewed while performing his Haj! I know most of us who are having family members in Mecca right now are missing them and the chance to know what are they doing over there will be a bless.

I also watched the repeated show of Amazing Raze Asia 3 where four Malaysian citizens were competing in a tough game. One of the contestant was our very own beautiful and talented actress, Ida Nerina.

The game was fun and exciting. I applaud Ida and Tania who managed to overcome all the hardship and took all the challenges. But there was one task which was a bit doubtful to me:

The contestants must eat frog legs and fried insects and bugs.

I am so sorry for bringing up this sensitive topic during this festive season. The last news I read about Ida Nerina was about her fractured spine in The Star. I do not wish to create any sensation from this posting and I wish Ida and the family well.

I hope the bucket the gave to the contestants to spit back what they have eaten has been used by Ida and Tania. I read somewhere in the net stating that they just munched it. But being a fan, a Malay and a Muslim, I couldn't help thinking about the possibility of Ida and Tania eating the frogs. Seeing the Singaporeans eating it in Makansutra or A Cook's Tour (both in Asian Food Channel) did not gave me any impact compared to seeing Ida eating it in the Amazing Race 3.

I'm still surfing for the answers.
It's a bit disturbing for someone with sore eyes.

I'm curious.
I hope this is just temporary.

Nevertheless, the number three spot was awesome.

Friday, November 27, 2009

orkid's cafe: serving lemang, not sushi

Hinamatsuri sushi
Originally uploaded by
At this particular moment, while you're busy and thinking of lemang or ketupat daun palas, I am thinking of shrimp sushi.

Do you want to know why?

This is because this year I am unable to go to my grandmother's house or anywhere else. My eyes are bulging red.'s not ketumbit~!

Sakit mata.
Sakit mata.
Sakit mata.

I realised that my eyes were itchy since Wednesday but I made it worse by eating butter jering prawn.

And now I'm facing the consequences.

Take care, folks.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha.

Luckily it's a lemang day. It's not meant for shrimp sushi.
Huwaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Fever and sore eyes today!

Fortunately, we have three days for takbir and celebration.:)

Thursday, November 26, 2009

orkid's cafe: chick digs scars

Dear friends,

I am still trying to find the strength to write new stories. I'm sorry for not being able to tell you who said what to me, but all I want to say is that everything has been said verbally and not from a blogger. This is from someone who is close to me. So, this is not about jealosy.

Thank you very much for your concern and I'm reading your comments carefully though I'm not ready yet to spoil anyone's blog with my comments since I'm still very moody. Today, I'm going to be the silent reader first.

This posting is one of the postings for Orkid's Cafe and I have kept this posting for a month; hoping that I will find a space for it. Since I don't have anything to present to you guys at this moment, I would like to tell you this true story today. I hope you don't mind, it's a bit lengthy.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha.
Enjoy your day.



The material to make a white school scarf had one main weakness - it was very difficult to wash. I got some tips from other girls to apply talcum powder before washing it with water and soap. It worked. But it was painstakingly slow.

We had our PREP class at 3.00pm and at least two tudungs. If it was a rainy season, we had to maintain the cleanliness of one tudung we wore from 7.30pm until the end of the afternoon PREP class which was around 5.00pm.

* Tips: If your daughter is staying in the hostel, get her at least three tudungs, please.

No drips of curry allowed. Otherwise we had to wear a curry stained tudung.

There was a girl called Tasha in my batch. She was extraordinary and she was originated from Kuala Lumpur. She played sports,excelled in Math and she was an English debater. These were something which rarely accomplished by a lower form student in a boarding school.

She had her first boyfriend when she was still in form one. Her boyfriend was a senior in form three. They broke up when she was in form two. So, Tasha was a bit matured about all these things. After she broke up with that senior, she became very confident. No more boyfriend. That was what I respect about her.

I have to also mention that she was beautiful - her skin was flawless white and pinkish, her lips similar to pink tulips bud and there always a laughter in that small eyes. In my opinion, the girls were jealous of her and the boys were taking her as a challenge. Yes, she had weaknesses too. I admit that. As usual, the girls would use that as advantages while the boy would use that as a bait. We led a very typical lifestyle in the hostel, don't you think?

One day, we had chicken curry for our lunch. Tasha sat silently with us in the dining hall. Most girls purposedly sat timidly at other places when she was around, causing her to sit to the nearest place to the boys. Therefore, we had to sit with Tasha at that place all the time because Tasha was our friend.

But we preferred to be around Tasha. At least she was not looking around to check on cute guys like the other girls who pretended they were "timid". She had a boyfriend because the boy liked her, not because she was looking for the boy. I admired her courage. She did not feel a thing if she was sitting near the boys. No infatuation whatsoever.

While we enjoyed that luxurious chicken curry, something flew out of nowhere and landed on Tasha's face near her temple. For all we knew, she was gasping and wincing. We didn't check what the object was.

"Tasha! Kau okay ke?" We stopped eating.

"Takpe...takpe. Aku okay," Tasha said while wiping her face with the baju kurung's cuffs. It smeared with curry. Her one and only available tudung looked horrible.

I turned my back and saw a group of boys laughing at her. They thought it was funny.

One of us checked the object which has been thrown to Tasha. It was chicken drumstick - the flesh has been eaten, the bone has been thrown. I believed the person dipped the bone into curry before throwing it to her.

We stopped eating and helped Tasha carried her tray. The moment she left her place, a group of around twenty boys booed her.

"Booooooooooooooo....boooooooooo...hahahahahaahhaa..." they booed her and they laughed.

Tasha didn't cry. She looked straight and left.

The other girls who hated her laughed too. How mean. How cruel. How utterly stupid! You laughed at another girl because of the boys stupidity? Betrayers!

When we reached the hostel, we wiped off the curry and checked her temple. It was bruised.

"Cakap kat warden. Jom?" one of my friends suggested.

"Takpelah. Biarkan diorang," Tasha said.

She insisted on not doing anything. That was the first time. There were times when it was not a chicken bone (regardless whether it was curry, masak kicap, masak merah, gulai, soup...); they even threw water melon hard skin, the tasteless guava, and fish bones too.

The boys might get straight As in UPSR or PMR before Education Ministry offered them the spot in that so called prestigous school. Yet, they got no brain. That was my conclusion. Good luck to their wives.

Tasha was one of the many girls who has been the object of amusement for the boys. We didn't complain. The girls would never win against our ustazah. She blamed us for the boys' mischievous actions. She said we were the one who asked for it. Really?

Tasha didn't do anything. My senior, who was the most silent girl in the school didn't do anything either. The junior who couldn't stopped reciting Al-Quran (Alhamdulillah, I hope this still continues), did not asked for it too! But the boys won in that throwing party.


Thanks ustazah. You were very fair.


"Betul kau taknak bagi number kau?" he asked me.

"Tak," I replied.

"Kenapa? Aku suka kau dari sekolah lagi," he confessed.

"Kenapa tak cakap?" I demanded an answer.

"Sebab kita sekolah lagi. Kau pun macam tak nak berboyfriend," he said.

"Sekarang apa bezanya?"

"Sekarang kita dah habis sekolah. Dah lain," he smiled.

He was one of the most handsome guy in my class. Yet, he was insolent. Rude!!! While I was eating at the college's cafetaria, he came and sat in front of me and chaste my room mate away from the table. He said, it was between him and me ONLY. I pitied my room mate. She just walked off the moment my ex-schoolmate said that to her.

Was that a proper way of approaching a girl?

"Aku rasa, bila-bila kau jumpa aku pun kau boleh tegur. Kan dah sama uni. Tak perlulah bagi nombor," I said firmly.

"Tapi aku dekat tempat engineering, kau dekat tempat business...mana sama?" He was very reluctant to accept things.

"Kita satu sekolah kan. Kita kawan. Okay?" He looked dissatisfied.

"Kau ingat tak masa sekolah? Budak lelaki suka baling tulang ayam dalam dewan makan?" I asked him.

"Ingat. Kenapa?"

"Kenapa ye, diorang baling?" I asked.

"Saja...suka-suka. Lagipun ada separuh budak perempuan memang patut diajar macam tu, " he arrogantly said that.

"Kalau yang dibaling tu adik kau, kakak kau, mak kau...itu untuk mengajar jugaklah?"

"Apasal kau cakap macam tu pulak?"

"Taklah...aku cuma nak tengok, ada perubahan tak. Nampaknya tak," I told him.

"Tapi...aku memang suka kau, Sha."

"Aku lagi suka kalau kau respect aku," I smiled.

"Memang pun."

"Tapi...kau tak respect perempuan. So, kau tak respect aku," and I left.

"So, aku tak dapat number kau, tak dapat kawan dengan kau sebab kita satu sekolah?" he asked with unsatisfied face.

"Ya." My answer was simple.

He sat there until the the cafe lights went off. Someone told me.


I'm surfing my Facebook - there are lots of funny faces, pictures of babies, amazing status updates and replies.

"Tengok-tengok Facebook, tak pernah terfikir nak keluar dengan mana-mana budak sekolah dulu ke? Yang bujang?" Ibu teased me.

I simply replied, "Tak."

When I'm not saying much, ibu knows very well that it is best not to continue. I check my network to see whether Tasha's name is available. None. She is nowhere in scene. We have lost contact ever since she transferred into another boarding school (she was one of the luckiest person who managed to switch between Sekolah Berasrama Penuh).

I was not surprise. Some scars run deep.

Like Tasha's. Like mine.

Any scars, dear friends?

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

orkid's cafe: cracker, i'll quit blogging

Writing has always been my passion and this blog has been with me since 2004.

You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'

Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me

5 years of writing.

Went through journey from a student to various jobs.
Went through two separate relationships.
Went through unofficial relationships too:)
Went through all hardship in life.
Went throught the great moments in life.

Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me

I'm not worried 'bout the ring you wear
Cuz as long as no one knows than nobody can care
You're feelin' guilty and I'm well aware
But you don't look ashamed and baby I'm not scared
I'm singin'

5 years of writing.

Met lots of people.
Some good.
Some bad.
Some nice.
Some inspiring.
Some nauseating.

Won't give you money
I can't give you the sky
You're better off if you don't ask why
I'm not the reason that you go astray and
We'll be all right if you don't ask me to stay

5 years of writing.
Have I been writing junks?
When all I'm doing is to be in my own world.

You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea

5 years of writing

I received this:
"Macamlah kau penulis agung. Perasan!"

and this

"Topik-topik dalam blog ko sejak dua menjak ni sangat tak best."

So, I want to tell you folks...
That I'll quit blogging...
...because there is someone saying,

"You should quit when you're on top."

Lyrics: Follow Me by Uncle Kracker (click to view the video)

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

orkid's cafe: the fear of eating fried chicken

I wanted to announce the person's name next week. But come to think about it again, it will be Aidiladha soon and most bloggers will be on holiday. Furthermore, with the answers I got, I think lots of bloggers wanted to have my confession rather than an announcement:) won! Honestly, I'm not doing a justice to my crush over here. I'm supposed to post about him last week when most of our friends still had the time to read. Unfortunately, due to my own carelessness and streamyx extraordinary service, I did not managed to post this last week. Postponing is something I hate to do; because I want my facts to be right at the right time.

I've always wondered how will I say what I wrote yesterday (in my posting) if the person is in front of me. Trust me, I'm a very shy person. I blush easily. Plus, I have this inferiority of meeting someone in person. I'm not pretty and I'm a chatterbox. Do you think everyone can stand me? No, I don't think so. Furthermore, my past experience of meeting one of my readers has taught me that meeting a reader must be taken into a serious consideration. It can be dangerous.

Let's not spoil the posting by talking about that. Hmmm..let's just say that I have my own imagination about the day I'm going to meet him.

First - Sha meets Mr. Blogger as a Barista
Me: Welcome to Starbucks! Yes, can I help you?
Him: (showing the board behind me)
Me: Yes sir, do you want your drinks to be cold or hot?
Him: Hot.
Me: Do you want anything based on coffee, chocolate or tea?
Him: Coffee.
Me: Sir, this is our menu for coffee based hot drinks. You can have a look.
Him: Whatever.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaarggghhhh!!! Imagine that. I mean, his postings have shown me a bit of his personality. His long comments suggested that he is also a chatterbox. But a blogger can be anyone. A chatterbox in the blog but a sealed box in reality.

Second - Sha meets Mr. Blogger as a Cleaner
Me: Encik, boleh keluar dari tandas sekejap. Saya nak kemas.
Him: Tapi saya nak kencing sekarang.
Me: Tak boleh tahan kencing ke, encik?
Him: Tak boleh.
Me: Tapi encik kena tahan! Schedule saya mengemas pukul 3. Tak boleh lambat!
Him: Kencing 5 minit pun tak boleh ke?
Me: Tak boleh!
Him: (Paaaaaaanngggg!!!!)
Me: (Poooooooooooooonnnggg!!!)

Alamak, what if he is stubborn? Because everyone told me that I'm stubborn a mule! Stubborn man is meeting a stubborn girl? Oooo...that's not good isn't it? What if both of us start to slap each other? Oh, no...a disaster! Erk. Whatever is going to happen after the slapping session is going to be beyond my wildest imagination. Nooooooo....his icon is showing that he might have big hands. My chubby face might not going to accommodate those hands. Tidak! (Will you slap me, Mr. Blogger?)

Errr...honestly. These have been my occupations and I was thinking about the what ifs. Yes, I'm a blogger at home - who might not appear as a barista or a cleaner. But what if I'm meeting this person at work; where I'm going to be clad in my black uniform and green apron while brewing coffee. The worst, what if I'm meeting him while I'm mopping the floor?

Will these change his opinion towards the blogger he saw in this cyber world or will he accept the barista friend? Or the cleaner?

When someone is inviting another person for a meeting or a date (in this situation, it's going to be me), I will have to bring the Mr. Blogger for a meal. Since I was a barista or a cleaner, will this person accept my invitation for a feast at pasar malam - where the fried chicken is more affordable than KFC? What will be his reaction if I'm going to tell him that I can't buy him that nice buffalo wings in Chilly's?

Yes, whatever I just said just now was my biggest fear.

The fear of showing the pimple's scar by the size of a hole in golf course.
The fear of flashing imperfect smile with crooked teeth.
The fear of the drizzles from my mouth when I'm talking.
The fear of the having the body weight of The Biggest Loser's contestant.
The fear of presenting a cold ayam goreng instead of the one cooked by the chefs.
The fear of not being able to talk about Barack Obama and having the only ability to speak of a kitten named Fernando.
The fear of not being able to translate the dots in the sky to something interesting like a classy stewardess in the flight to Thailand?

My words are insignificant.
My life is a cold reality.

This person said this and asked this yesterday:
me? i'm doing it to change the world. one step at a time... start by telling story in my own way. what about u may i ask?

The answer to that question is....
I'm just a blogger with small and simple ideas with hope that people will read my thoughts;)

So, who was that person?

Yup, you can read from the comments of yesterday's posting and you will know. Hehehehe...that's not fair, right? Okay, I'll announce it:

My answer is - this. Please click so that you know the person better.

Talking about him makes me think of the insecurity of telling him about my actual occupation last year. I wanted to hide it so badly because I didn't want anyone to know too much about me. Unfortunately, I eventually made a mistake which caused the gate to the real me to be opened;)

Should I tell them about this story or do you want to do it, Mr. Pocket?

Ooooopsss...did I mentioned his name just now?

Monday, November 23, 2009

orkid's cafe: chicken soup for the blogger's soul

Chicken Soup
Originally uploaded by
I am single. I'm not married and I don't have any boyfriend. Not anymore. But I have a crush on someone:)

No, he is not Jack Bass. Jack Bass is a tv show character. My crush is a blogger. You think this is scandalous? Well, read more.

When my former boss asked me about my crush who he thought was at the work place, he was wrong. He simply loved to gossip. I mean, talking to me about who was sleeping with whom was his hobby. But I remember saying this to him:

"I have my own taste," I told him when he was interrogating me and trying to make me as his another prey:)

How do I define my taste? Well, one thing for sure - I love smart guys. When I say smart, it doesn't have to be academically smart. I don't mind having someone who is street smart. As long as the person is speaking the same languange, it should be fine for me.

For instant, if I'm talking about a purple orchid in a vase, he should know it's about the purple orchid and not the vase. But, in order to be someone I admire, the person should know what is the relation between the orchid and the vase.

Complicated? It sounds complicated. But it's not. This is because, I finally found someone who managed to say the non-cliche things. Who is that person? Let me tell you about him.

This person is elder than me. How do I know? By reading and observing. Extensively. I was actually stalking him;)

It took several sleepless nights for me to recall my memory about how we "met". Then I remember. I saw his nickname in Afdlin Shauki's blog. He put his comment in one of the actor/director's posting. The comment was quite long. And...most importantly, it was not CLICHE at all.

So, I followed his link and became a silent reader for several months:)

I was lost. I didn't know him that much. I saw several comments - most of them were from the people who knew him personally. At first, I became intimidated and I bent my head really low. He was writing in English and somehow, even though I was using English everyday due to job requirement, I had a silent moment.

I couldn't construct my own sentence without thinking that he might be checking my grammar. So, when I was commenting in his blog, I made sure I read my comments at least two or three times before adding it to other comments. How bad, kan?! Well, that was his effect on me, I guess.

Then he came over to my blog. His comments were long enough for me to notice it was him. Sometimes he didn't comment at all. But one day I realised that he was good in commenting about relationships - the topic I frequently discussed last year. From a comment per week, I received at least two comments per week. And as a result? I became his blog's regular reader.

Honestly, I was not into blog hopping until I read his blog:)

When I saw his picture as the latest visitor in MyBlogLog, I was happy.
When he was commenting, I smiled to my PC and fumbled with my words to reply.
When he was not commenting, I hoped he read.
Frustrated when he was not commenting? A bit.
No, I lied. A lot.
Looking at his icon was a pleasure.
Waiting for it to appear was the pain.
That is the reason why I'm calling him my crush.

I knew for a fact that the non-cliche comments were actually effecting me but that was just him. While blog hopping, I saw his comments in other blogs and I knew that he read the postings before he commented. He did not just do it in my blog.

So, stop being perasan, Sha:)

Until 162. For some reason, he puts numbers on his posting to indicate the amount of postings he has. I knew he has been blogging since 2004 - the year I started this blog. Our similarities were in terms of the lack of number of postings but our differences were a lot. He did not show or write about himself that much. He rarely posted any pictures especially the pictures of him. His attraction is his words and other mysteries that I have to dig by myself:)

"i'm having my speculation, my thinking hat is on.
and bad ideas are pouring in, even wondered
'will a person bleed if a chair is swing to his left ear?'
'kak saya nak balik dulu lah yer, ada dua tiga tempat lg nak gi nih:)'
was my farewell speech as i slide a green angpow envelope with
RM20 in it under the pillow, obvious enough for her to realize it.
'makasih la yer ******... teh pun kami tak dan nak buat'
and i went on without even looking at the guy who's having his lunch. hoh!!"
- Quotes from Posting 162: A Disgrace of Man Kind

Yes, I like this posting a lot. I personally asked him to give the number of this posting so that I can read this posting over and over and over again. This posting is saved in my thumb drive, desk top and the laptop - in case I'm feeling blue or boring.

Why do I like it?

Despite writing in English, the article is so Malaysian until I'm imagining him in the story. I only saw one picture of him in red baju Melayu so you can imagine how hard it was to imagine him in something else and to imagine his gesture. I have never met this guy. So, I read the posting carefully and started to visualised his words. I cried.

Some postings made me laughed.
Some postings made me smiled.
Some postings made me smirked.
Some postings made me think.
There were so many postings which made me wonder how he could make me feel at home while reading something in English? Or in Malay with northern accent?And perhaps Indian accent?

Do you know the book Chicken Soup for the Soul? Yup, I have a collection of it because I love it. I love his blog too. There were times when he was not updating, and I felt as if I finished reading a series of Chicken Soup and longing for more. But, I settled down with what I have by reading his old postings over and over again. That is also the way I'm settling down when I'm not buying a new book.

When my aunty suggested that I have to change the direction and language of my blog, it was not an easy decision. I mean, my English is not that good. What if people read it and laugh at me? Then I remember the way he attracted his readers and I was thinking that writing is something you do from heart. He wrote something and it was not pretencious because he did not just write about beautiful things. Can I write things as brilliant as he does?

While I was thinking, he suddenly came out with this posting which mentioned a purple orchid. Purple orchid is my favourite. Well, he didn't mean anything by that. I knew that very well, because he mentioned other people's favourites too. But something triggered in my mind and I started my first all-English posting: purple orchid can be poisonous.

He did it. He made me changed my blog.

Then, he made me intrested in blog hopping - I eventually went to someone else's blog and commented.You might be connected to his blog too:)

Have I met this person? No.
Do I want to? As much as I want to, it's better for me to leave it this way:)
Will the person know that I'm actually talking about him? Yes, he will. I am 100% sure and I'm waiting for his comment;P

Okay, you must be boring. I'm talking about him all the time. Who is he?

I'm reverting this question to you. Who is he?

As for me, he was someone who has always been there for me.

He is my inspiration and idol in writing and I believe that all compliments towards the way I write (if any)should be directed to him. He has a blog which works like a Chicken Soup for the Soul, his comments are not cliche, he even commented on my first posting after the accusation of having a crush at work while he was actually the one I admired. And though we have never met each other, he knew me better than my other acquaintances:)

To Mr. Blogger, I admire you.
Honestly. Sincerely. With no hidden agenda:)

To all the good ones who have been reading this posting patiently:
I am finding first five bloggers with the accurate answer.
Tokens of appreciation for providing me the name of the blogger and the name of his blog will be given. (it's not big or expensive but it's free)

The author of this blog has just come back from Thailand (how do I know? Well, I told you he is my crush)
His favourite food is Miang Kam and not Yakitori. Hehe.

That blog is my Chicken Soup for the Soul:)

Find it:)

Sunday, November 22, 2009

orkid's cafe: another satay day for us

Dear You-Know-Who-You-Are,

I know you are going to read my blog today. I hope you will enjoy your day and will get a very good rest. I'm not going to be around, so I'm sorry if I can't talk to you in other ways besides sending this message through my blog. I'm going to Putrajaya for a day and will be with my family. At this moment, I'm feeling so sleepy and I'm thinking of you. However, I can't talk to you. Hukhukhuk. How I wish you're contactable!

So Darling,
Please be safe and rest well. I hope you're not going to miss me as I'm celebrating one of the best days in my life. Today is a Satay Day. Almost five years ago, Satay Day was the day I held a bouquet of yellow lilies in my arms with a smile on my face. It is someone's else turn today and I'm excited!!!

I have a story to tell you as well:

Last Tuesday I met Bok. Which Bok? One of the Boks. We had a little conversation because I was not that keen to meet her. I wish I was having a conversation with you instead.

Bok: Kau dah tak kerja dekat situ lagi?
Me: Tak.
Bok: Habis tu?
Me: Saya nak belajar.
Bok: Hmmmmmphhh...(disgruntled face). Lawa baju kau ni. Baru beli?
Me: Haah.
Bok: Beli baju baru waktu macam ni?
Me: Oooo...yang ni adik saya belikan.
Bok: Ooooo...(her expression changed)
Me: Dia dah habis belajar. Sekarang dah kerja. Jadi, dia yang belikan baju untuk saya.
Bok: Oooo...Alaaa...dia kerja dengan ***** kan?
Me: Ya. Taklah glamour mana. Tapi Alhamdulillah.
Bok: Anak makcik pun kerja macam tu juga.
Me: Oh, dekat mana tu?
Bok: Free-lance...dia ramai customer.
Me: Alhamdulillah.
Bok: Elok ke kerja dia tu? Dia dapat kerja tu sebab makcik kau tolong kan?
Me: Bolehlah. Sekarang dapatlah dia ambil alih tempat saya.
Bok: Cukup ke gaji dia?
Me: Cukup tak cukup dia banyak tolong kakak dia ni. Dapatlah baju baru. Alhamdulillah, dia tahu tanggungjawab. Dulu giliran saya, sekarang dia. Besok adik-adik kami pulak. Kami akan amik giliran untuk belajar. Oh ya. Makcik, minggu ni konvokesyen adik saya. Alhamdulillah...macam-macam orang kata, akhirnya dapat juga dia buktikan kejayaan dia.

You know something, sweetheart?
I gave her the sweetest smile I could give after I said that.

Bok left with unsatisfied face. She was not a fan of my brother. Let me just say that my brother had a very traumatic childhood because of her. He was a laughingstock of Bok, a subject of amusement and a topic for comparison. His achievements and success had never been acknowledged. That day, I made sure Bok swallowed her own saliva! She can do it to me, I'll keep quiet. But don't mess with my family!

Please honey,
Let me enjoy my day today. I hope you won't mind at all. I have kept some money to buy a bouquet of flowers and to celebrate the day with satay. He was the one who put the notes in ibu's hand for my graduation for the satay feast five years ago. He made sure that I slept with those beautiful lilies. Today I'm going to return the favour and I can't wait!

My precious,
If I'm not visiting your blogs today, I am very sorry.

My brother has proven that he is totally amused with the mockery.
Today is his day.
I am extremely proud.


Saturday, November 21, 2009

orkid's cafe: oh my gucci popcorn

20070603_0721 corn
Originally uploaded by williewonker
I'm too tired but I want to publish my posting today itself since I'm not sure whether we will be at home tomorrow. My parents are having the intention of going to Putrajaya tomorrow and most likely I will have to follow (considering UNITEN is very near to Putrajaya and I was working in Cyberjaya).

On Sunday, I will have to go to Putrajaya again. So, to those who would love to come and visit me here without hoping for any return favours (i.e.: my visit to your blog), I will always welcome you here, knowing that you are a very sincere blogger. Thanks a lot:)

My blogging life has been hell this week.
Thanks to streamyx and the other factors.

So, to those who were still visiting, thanks. Love you all:)

Yesterday I spent my time watching movies back to back. So here is my story:

I love popcorn - the smell, the taste, the texture.
I smelled lots of popcorn during the first movie that I watched - Pisau Cukur. There was 99% female in the cinema hall so it was not so surprising when these were the vocabs I heard during the show:

Nak macam tu!
Eh, nak pakailah tag line nieh....!!!

Along with the giggles and over-stress pronunciation of the letter "R" and broken English:)

I had immediately checked my skin colour and my tongue.
I was doing okay:)

Next movie...
"Ajit, we're going on a ship," said Satnam, the Indian character in the movie 2012.

Then I smelled something.

It was not popcorn or caramel.

It was the smell of vaddai in Golden Screen Cinema.
Along with the sound of Tamil ringtones. Not just once or twice. Three times for good sake!
The tanggachi counted twenty one, twenty two....twenty three....loudly before landed her small hands on my head. (woiiii...kepala tak mainlah!)
The smell of curry was pungent to our nose.
Especially in the full cinema hall.

Thanks Achi, that's very considerate.
Thanks dark GSC ticket boy, for not doing the checkups before the Achi entered the cinema.

John Cusack's face looked like Vijay to me.
I didn't see California or Washington.
I saw Batu Caves throughout the three hours.

No outside food allowed.

GSC/TGV/MBO for you?

Friday, November 20, 2009

orkid's cafe: the antagonist chocolate fondue

* This is an auto-publish post *

Someone told me that when Datuk K wanted to propose Siti Nurhaliza, he used a Chocolate Fondue - strawberries dipped into chocolate. That person told me that this chocolate covered strawberry was Siti Nurhaliza's favourite and that was the reason why she fell in love with him. I didn't know how far this i=was true because I was not a fan of Siti Nurhaliza. Neither did I know that there were strawberries and chocolate in Kuala Lipis. Based on my reading, fondue came from Europe. As far as as I knew (from the excessive media coverage), she loved Patin Masak Tempoyak which ws Pahang's specialty. Probably her taste has evolved like her music. Whatever. It was none of my business, anyway;)

I remember the part when Julia Robert went to the toilet to use the dental floss after eating strawberries in Pretty Woman. I fancy the way she was eating the strawberries and I couldn't fancy Richard Gere eating the strawberries. I mean, everyone has their own taste and Richard Gere was certainly not mine.

Honestly, even though Julia Robert acted as a prostitute in that movie, people tend to be more accepting because it was a romantic movie. JR was so charming and the audience were more forgiven to her character than being forgiven to prostitutes in real life. That was a fact.

So, when my brother came out with this statement, I have been inspired to write this posting:
"Kakak memang seorang yang suka watak antagonis." he said that in front of the family.

My brother was a new generation who learned about literature for English and BM for SPM. I didn't have a clue about what antagonist was so I checked wikipedia and it stated that antagonist was the opposite of protagonist. In other words, if protagonist was the hero, antagonist was the villain:)

Yes, I have to agree with my brother. For some reason, I loved the antagonist.

When I watched Lord of the Rings, my favourite character was Saruman.
When I watched Batman, my favourite character was Joker.
When I watched Harry Potter, my favourite character were Belatrix Lastrange and Lucius Malfoy.
When I watched Superman or Smallville, my favourite character was Lex Luthor.
When I watched Slamdunk, my favourite character was Mitsui.
When I watched La Usurpadora, my favourite character was Paula Bracho.
When I watched Mis Tres Hermanas, my favourite character was Margarita Solis.
When I watched Ugly Betty, my favourite character was Wilhelmina Slater.
When I watched One Tree Hill, my favourite character was Brooke Davis.
When I watched Autumn in My Heart, my favourite character was Tae Suhk.
When I watched Ibu Mertuaku, my favourite character was Nyonya Mansor.
When I watched Nur Kasih, my favourite character was Sarah.

Hahahahhaa...the last one was not true. Please.

This is the right one:
When I watched Nur Kasih, my favourite character was Katrina.

What is the relation between strawberries, fondue, and antagonist?

Well, this is what I'm trying to tell you:
Most of my favourite antagonist characters eat strawberries.

Julia Robert in Pretty Woman
Paula Bracho
Margarita Solis
Wilhelmina Slater

and the latest one who came in my dream last night:
"Here comes your strawberry, my precious Sha," he said while feeding me chocolate covered strawberries.
Oh, the man of my dreams has no thick mustache.

Jack Bass - an antagonist.

Dr. Fadzilah Kamsah said this:
"Syaitan tak pernah putus asa."

That was the reason why I admire antagonist. This was it.
Not to follow them.
Antagonists are mostly better in acting too.

So, to that person,
Don't blame me if I don't fancy Siti.
She is a protagonist for you and I have my own taste.
You can't force me to like Siti like you do.
(I'm tired of talking about her. Stop it!)

My question:
Antagonist of Protagonist for you?

p/s: this posting is dedicated to our SPM candidates:)

Thursday, November 19, 2009

orkid's cafe: my kung pao is gone!

Originally uploaded by Danburg Murmur
My streamyx is still not functioning and I'm blogging from somewhere else right now. I have prepared some postings - for auto-publish BUT I left my thumb drive at home. Nice huh?

I hope you won't be asking me where am I blogging right now. It is somewhere but definitely not that somewhere that I can have privacy because I need to be fast in blogging today.

Everything is a mess - I haven't been blogging yesterday and I have not visited anyone's site for two days. I know.

The worst thing is, my Kung Pao chicken in Cafe World is spoiled! Same goes to my King Crab Bisque. I don't really mind about it, but I know people who don't really like not having their food served in the game.

This FB game is sometimes an addiction - especially when you play and play and play according to the rules. I have seen people who are everywhere in the games - Farmtown, Farimville, Cafe World, Pet Society and the latest is...Fishville!

I don't pay for their internet bills, which is fine. But I've seen the struggle for some who are paying for it. You want to use the internet, someone wants to use it too. Why?

Because that person wants to harvest corn in Farmville.
Because that person wants to buy a mansion in Farmtown.
Because the fish will be big enough for you to sell in Fishville.
Because you want to visit your neighbours in Pet Society.

Then how about others who are going to use the internet?

To find a job.
To read the newspaper.
To blog for business or Nuffnang money.

Do you think they deserve to use the internet too?
Of course.

That's the reason...
Why you have broadband.
Why you have wireless.
Why you pay for splitters.
Why you have expensive phones.

But then again..
What if you only have one computer?
What if you don't know how to say no to others?
What if you play the games too?

So, people...
Are you sharing your internet with anyone?
What service are you using?
Is it good or bad?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

orkid's cafe: i'm not an extra virgin

Mas was one of my closest friend when I was in the upper form. The first time I got to know her was when I had to sit beside her in the class. I looked at her and I was thinking,"Why am I getting this girl as my desk partner?!"

It turned out to be she was asking the same question to herself. She didn't like me for so many reasons. I can't blame her. She was nerdy - with her big spectacles and geeky folds of her tudung. She also used this colourful pins at the side of the folds and she carried a BATA sack.

I, on the other hand - did not fold my tudung, wore ankle boots and had tin pencil case with robot pictures on it. It was black in colour.
You can imagine if the pencil case fell on the floor. Nobody would want to sleep in the class:P

We were different.

I listened to English songs, she listened Malay songs. I loved calculations subjects and she loved reading subjects. I slept in the History class, she gave her full focus. She did all her homework, I did mine too - but I was not as hardworking as she was. I read Galaxie and she was reading URTV!

But we were friends. We learned to cope with each other and compromised. I was crazy about Blur at that time. So, everyday she had to listen to my "Woooooohoooo...when I feel heavy metal!". She didn't mind at all. In return, I had to listen to "Rinduuuuuuu...rindu serindu-rindunyaaaaa...."

* Note:
My song: Song 2 from Blur
Her song: Rindu Serindunya from Spoon

One day, the English teacher called us.

"Sha, you must help Mas," my teacher told me. Mas was looking down the floor.
"Mas, you must ask from Sha. You're worrying me," she said to Mas.

"Her English needs to have some improvement. She is doing direct translation in most of her composition. Is it possible for you to borrow some of your books?" the teacher asked me. I nodded. I didn't say much to the teacher.

When we were alone, I asked, "Apasal kau tak cakap dengan aku? Tak perlulah sampai cikgu pulak kena cakap, Mas! Kitakan kawan!"

She said, "Aku sebenarnya tak faham apa yang kau cakap, Sha. Aku mintak maaf..."

"Kau tak faham?" I asked her.

"Ya. Bila aku dengar kau cakap, ada masanya aku kena guna kamus. Kadang kau cakap terlalu laju. Mesti tak banyak sikit, termasuk perkataan Inggeris. Aku tak faham," her face was red while she was saying that.

"Hari tu kau sebut...kau!"
"Appreciate?" I prompted.
"Ya! Aku tak tahu itu binatang apa!" she nearly cried.
"Appreciate tu menghargai. Bila aku kata, aku appreciate kau, maknanya aku menghargai engkau. Okay?" I said softly.
"Tak ada siapa ajar aku..." her voice broke.
"Aku kan ada. Kenapa kau tak cakap awal-awal?"
"Aku malu..."
"Malu apa?! Hmm...lagi satu, aku nak tanya kau. Macam mana kau boleh dapat 8A?"
"Aku nasib baik je, Sha."
"Tak, sebab kau pandai."

"Tapi, aku tak macam kau. Kau boleh tidur lepas tu score. Kalau kau buat karangan, berjela-jela. Tapi kau relax aje. BM senang, BI senang. Aku tak boleh!"

"Salah tu. Aku tidur time Sejarah, dan aku tak score. Aku tak boleh hafal macam kau. Aku bukan contoh yang baik. Pasal subjek bahasa tu, aku memang minat, kau tahu kan. Bukan sebab aku pandai," At that time, I was regretting all my actions. I knew I had to change.

I was determined to make her good in English. She was hardworking. I knew she could do it!

So, starting from that day, I translated every English word which came out of my mounth. I told her, I was learning myself and we had to learn together. I passed at least five to ten Sweet Valley Highs and Enid Blyton's books to her every week.

One day, she said this to me:

"Aku nampak kau baca buku tebal-tebal tu. Kau baca buku apa, Sha?"
"Ooo..yang tu. Itu buku Judith McNaught," I said with a smile.
"Boleh aku tengok?"

"Tengoklah. Kau boleh belajar banyak dari buku tu. Tapi bahasa dia berbunga sikit dari buku-buku yang aku bagi kau. Kena refer kamus banyak sikit."

"Kalau aku tanya kau?" she asked.
"Boleh. Tapi aku bukan tahu semua tau. Kadang-kadang aku salah. Aku pun belajar lagi."

She brought the books to the hostel and started to read.

"Sha," she called me while reading.
"Kau pernah baca Romantika Malam Pertama?" she asked me.

I gasped. Was it Mas who asked me that question? My geeky Mas?

"Apa benda tu?" I asked dumbly. There was no expression on her face.
"Macam buku Judith McNaught kau. Tapi dalam versi Bahasa Melayu. Cuma, tak terperinci. Maklumlah, artikel Melayu sopan sikit," she said.
"Tak. Aku tak pernah baca."

"Kau patut baca. Aku rasa kau dah cukup terbuka dan matang. Macam-macam ceritanya. Ada yang kelakar, ada yang sedih."

"Contoh?" I asked her.

Then she told me about a case of this newlywed couple. The husband bought a deep red negiglee for their wedding night. Then, they started their nights with pantun. The pantuns were becoming double meaning each time and in the end what they were expected and wanted finally became a reality. While they were making love, the wife felt biting on her toes. She thought the husband mouth was there but apparently the husband's mouth was on her stomach. The husband had only one mouth. So they switched on the lights and found a mouse near their bed. The husband wanted to play hero, so he chased the mouse with a broom. Suddenly, he heard,

"Kot iya pun pakailah seluar dulu." It came from his father-in-law. He was at the hall.

"Hehehehe..." I laughed and blushed at the same time.

Mas smiled with her geeky spectacles.

"Kau suka tak cerita aku?" she asked.
"Lucah!" I pinched her.
"Tak. Tak lucah. Cerita-cerita tu banyak pengajaran. Aku cuma cerita yang kelakar. Ada yang sedih. Apa kata kau cuba baca. Dekat surat khabar **** (a tabloid)."

"Mana kau belajar ni, Mas? Aku ingat kau tak reti benda-benda macam ni," she looked casual. I was the one who looked like a geek.

"Budak kampung. Bukan pandai Bahasa Inggeris. Takkan nak baca Judith McNaught macam kau."
"Janganlah cakap macam tu, " I was feeling disturbed by that statement.
"Aku dah baca ni. Ada soalan untuk kau."
"Haaahh...nak tanya apa?"

"Manhood ni apa benda, Sha? Aku tengok dalam kamus dia cakap lain. Tapi aku tak boleh nak masukkan dalam ayat ni..." she looked determined.

"Errrrrrr...." I stumbled there. I blushed to the roots of my hair.
"Kau malu ye?" she smiled wickedly.
"Haah!!!!" I shouted with a red face.
"Kau masih perempuan Melayu terakhir. Hehehehehe..." she laughed naughtily.

"Masss!!!!" I pinched her. She laughed louder!

She is my best friend. Until today.

Mas got C6 for her English. If only we prepared earlier, her English would've been better. That was definite. When we met for the first time after a year in college, she made so much of improvement, I nearly cried. I can still remember her sentence, "The behaviour is unacceptable." She learned. So, I don't believe the excuse of not being able to learn English if you're from the village or your parents are not speaking in English. That's rubbish!

I learned about Extra Virgin Olive Oil when I was around eighteen years old. I didn't know why it was called extra virgin. I mean, virginity is familiar when discussing women, not olive oil. I had this crazy ideas of the relationship until I read and watched the extra virgin olive oil. production in the television. It was not related to baby production organs at all:P

Geeky women are not extra virgin. Don't be duped with one's personality and apperance.

That was the lesson I got from my best friend, Mas. She was the only one who managed to make me blushed:P

My question:
If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil comes from?