the tiniest package

the most powerful message comes in the simplest and shortest form.
of course, the way you deliver it, your emotions, soul, passion, matters to.
Like the most elegant wedding ring, sleek and thin, hid in a tiny box big enough to just fit into the palm of a hand, wrapped with the sweetest, yet most mysterious silk ribbon.

This, is the wedding ring of all songs.
Serenade it with soul,
Ain't No Sunshine, by Bill Withers.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
It's not warm when she's away.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long anytime she goes away.

Wonder this time where she's gone,
Wonder if she's gone to stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.

And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone,
But ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.

Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.

Strippers have feelings too

Stripping in public comes with the territory of being a dancer. Thus, us female dancers often do the best we can to cover up in between costume changes- tubes, scarfs to wrap around, skirts, and some manouevers, tips and tricks that is too complicated to describe here.

Most often, we share a changing room with the male dancers but changing in front of them is okay- their always gay. if they are not, they're used to it and would do the polite gesture of looking away when we change.

If we're really lucky to be performing in a big arena, the girls would have a seperate changing room from the guys, which is a very rare but nice privilege.

But sometimes, our changing room is a dingy hallway backstage seperated from the kitchen by a divider that hardly shields us from the prying and demeaning eye of kitchen workers. It's like these people have never seen people change and have no decency to at least pretend that they are not looking. Sometimes, they stare at us assuming that we can't see them. When we look back at them in the eye giving them the sting, then they look away. We're dancers, not the blind, you ass. We do the best we can to cover up, but sometimes, sometimes, during dance shows where we have literally 1minute to change into different costumes, we have no time to cover up and just strip hoping that no one is looking. God knows which sad little peeping tom is peeping. They should really get laid, or watch more porn. And go learn some respect.

And then, there are the hotel workers that barges into our changing room without knocking. So we would be in our bras and panty hose shocked, and pissed. "Sorry" they say insincerely and slowly close the door and walk away. DONT YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK YOU DIMWIT!? Thank God this doesn't happen too often.

I've learnt to ignore and live in denial about the fact that I might have been visually violated for the longest time. But the last show I had in Sunway Lagoon 2 nights ago went over the top. Seriously, if you have enough money to rent the ENTIRE Sunway Lagoon for your company dinner, you should be able to provide at least one small tent for the dancers to change and rest. Giving us two humongous tables, no chairs, and asking us to change in the wet and dirty toilet, is just ridiculous. PLUS, you requested for back-to-back numbers. HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED CHANGE TO A DIFFERENT SET OF COSTUME IN TIME FOR YOU WHEN WE HAVE TO RUN ALL THE WAY TO THE TOILET AND AVOID THE WET AND DIRT? So, that night, the only thing shielding us from demeaning stares and pervy eyes was a wall, and the skirting of a table. GAAAAHHHH on the bright side, there weren't that many pairs of eyes around. I hope.

If that wasn't bad enough, when we were in our micro minis and halter tops waiting for our number, this guy, that was twice my age, with glasses and a pervy condescending hamsap pepe face had to go"yeah babeh" with a tone that was demeaning-condescending-perverted-disrespectful-shameful-and-whatever-else-adjective-that-the-thesaures-can-translate. Fucking idot just because that wasn't demeaning enough he had to say it twice until one of us notices him. GAAAHHHHH do you know how demeaning that felt? how degrading, belittleing that was. It's the feeling that made feminists such man-haters but you probably won't understand if you're a man. I had half the mind to hire a 50-year-old uncle with gold hair, white singlet, jeans and slippers and a Mr.Potato moustache have have him go "yeah babeh~"at that douche's sister/daughter/wife so he know's how much of a douchebag he is. Now all I need to know where he lives. It should be too hard, I remember his degrading stare. GAAAAH!!

If it wasn't my passion for dancing, I wouldn't be in this business. Dressing up in dresses short enough to show my bum with every step I take does sometime feels like I am objectified. But Im willing to look aside because I love dancing and performing, and it's done in good taste.. and it's not all that bad all the time, we have very nice audience, who gives us a thumbs up and compliments us on our dance even though sometimes we sucked.

Some people just need to learn respect, thats all.
Others, need to watch more porn and get laid so they don't go stupid when they see us change.
or at least go to the beach more often, people prance around in their bikinis and change in public at beaches all the time, right!?

I tried

hmm blog. what to say, what to write.

If i am not well-known for being from Klang, I'm well know for taking the train, faithfully. I read the paper a coupla months back and came across this article about Penang getting new commuters. I was in pointing it out in jealous awe, 'woah! damn nice la penang got new trains, looks damn canggih somemore!". Brian looked at me, laughed and commented that I am the only person who would give such a envy reaction to KTMs. In fact, I'd be the only one who gives a damn.

For the past few days, all my dates with Mr. Choo Choo Train was delayed. 10 minutes. 30 minutes. 40 minutes. 1 hour. I see 2, 3 trains passed by at the opposite tracks, but there was no sign of mine. I rushed in the early morning to catch the 7.05 train but end up waiting for 30 mins and was late for class. multiple times. I waited an hour for a supposedly empty 3.20 train just to be greeted by a sardine-can an hour later. Add that to a whole day of class and frustrations at a father who can never come on time. Multiply it by one week plus a history of patient waiting.

My patience went chasing after the missing KTM and that was it. Fuck you train I give up. Holding in frustrated tears. I've wasted half my life taken advantage by you. Here on end I'm driving., Sorry Mother Nature.

One thing I can't comprehend is this: why, did you have to extend your routes all the way to Batu Caves when you already have problems sending us to Sentul on time? Now you're time management is worst then ever, and the people, we're more disappointed than ever. Go learn from your brother LRT.

you're such an embarrassment to the country. Always the same excuse: rosak rosak rosak. Maybe I'll come visit you again when your new siblings come from China. End of next year eh? We'll see, you've never been really good at keeping your promises.

sien lo

first day of back to school and I am back to being not-so-enthused-about-life.
probably it was the awesome work/fun/productive holiday in comparison,
maybe it was the delayed train and bus to campus this morning,
pretty sure its was the sucky and pricey college food,
and could be because of the subject and lecturer that doesn't make sense,
but the first day of back to school was very indescribable, in a not so nice way.

This semester started in August. it is now the end of september and I don't think I have yet to learn anything productive. The subjects so far are a big question mark. Mr Chandra is definately the only lecturer that I look forward to spending a one-hour train/bus ride to see for two hours. In other words, uni is very uninspiring, very very uninspiring. The only thing that is keeping me going is work and dance.

and my mom wonders why I couldnt be bothered about the new college term.
she should come attend a class or two.

and then the bottle breaks

I can't talk to you
because you're judgemental;
because we're not close;
because you only talk about yourself;
because you don't care;
because you don't understand;
because you have too much on your mind;
because you're too busy;
because I can't trust you;
because you don't listen;
because you're shallow;
because you're too far;
I can't talk to you because I don't know how.

they call it the school of life

hi.
i learnt two important lessons today. two very unpleasant, but very important lessons.

1. Respect comes from both side.
Dealing with a tight-ass client who's a unprofessional prick but think that he's the best and I'm a nicompoop, has taught me the concept of 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you'. When working with the difficult a--, there were ridiculous terms and conditions that well, to put it blatantly, exploits me. I'd be the schmuck that lose precious time and money everthing were to be done his way. Nobody wants to be the schumck! What do you do in a case like this? So, to have the balance tilt back in your favour, fight fire with fire! He disrespects you, you disrespect him. He jual mahal, you jual mahal. It worked for me! I got things in my favour, sort of.

However (why is there always a however), be warned that the fire tactic comes with risks. Because now, in his eyes you're the bitchy difficult person to work with. Solution? Swallow your pride, fake smiles all around and an insincere ' i'm really sorry for the difficulty caused' even though you don't feel sorry at all and he doesn't deserve the sorry because you were fighting for your rights. An arrogant "It's OK" will emerge from the prick, like you were in the wrong and it was a due 'sorry'. Caution: It will make you feel like bursting into the Hulk and ripping his guts out and wrap it around his bloated head.

Telling youself that you're the bigger person will help sooth the burning rage.

Now i reaaallllyyy understand what people mean when they say 'I'm nice to you if you're nice to me'.

2. We have no right to defend ourselves against people in power.
When arguing with people in power, eg: mum, lectureres, boss, tight-ass clients, etc., 'defending' is 'justifying' and 'justifying' is what guilty people with prickly dispositions do. So no matter what you are accused for not doing is, there is no point in defending yourself and your honour because at the end of the day you are wrong and they are right because face it, who are you? you measly little scum that wouldn't be here if it weren't for me!?

So, being lectured? Just nodd and keep mumm. You don't even have to pay attention to what she/he is saying. You know what? Just let your mind wander altogether. Not listeing to what he/she is saying helps lessens the prickly unpleasent feeling you get at the back of your ribs because you can't defend yourself.

A fake look of since remorse can help shorten the lecture by approximately 5 to 15 minutes.


So boys and girls, the moral of today's lesson is,
there is not fairness in the world,
and
fake sincerity wisely.

Use it, don't abuse it!

i dont like sappy books

Train times and train waits,
train lates and train wakes,
sit sit sit wait wait wait,
all that time have been spent reading,
and I have finished reading The Zahir by Paolo Coelho.

it was,
not my cup of tea.

If you like all those spiritual journey metaphorical love crap, then yes you should take a gander at this book. If not, stay awaaaayyyyyyy. Paolo Coelho whined alot, in the book. Talking about the same thing again and again. but then again it is suppose to be a book about obsession, thats why he keeps repeating the same lines. tapi, boring sial.

for some reason I have been reading alot of whiny ass books. starting with the dissapointingly horrible Twilight.

I NEED SOME REAL DRAGONS SLAYERS AND BLOOD AND GUSH AND FICTION AND FAIRYTALES DAMNNIT! give me some suicidal virgins and confused hermaphrodites! some hobbits and drugged up musician and 3inch aliens?


i got to stop reading books i find laying around and go get some real books.