For the first time, we did not be celebrate the joy of having you in our lives. Mom and dad, despite their busy schedule, never fail to forget our birthdays and we never fail to celebrate birthdays together every year. Nothing will ever be the same again here, but I hope you’re making heaven a livelier place.

If Tomorrow Never Comes

(taken from June’s blog)

If we knew it would be the last time
that we’d see you fall asleep, 
We would tuck you in more tightly
and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.

If we knew it would be the last time
that we see you walk out the door, 
We would give you a hug and kiss
and call you back for one more.

If we knew it would be the last time
We’d hear your voice lifted up in praise, 
We would video tape each action and word,
so we could play them back day after day.

If we knew it would be the last time, 
We could spare an extra minute or two
to stop and say “I love you,”
instead of assuming you would KNOW we do.

If yesterday was all we got,
We’d like to say how much we love you
and  we will never forget.

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone,
young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance
you get to hold your loved one tight.

I find myself gardening.

I hate gardening. I’m awful at gardening. My plants always die even before their minimum life span expire.

But it’s calming. Helps me think. Spoke to a few lawyers lately for some legal advise and my next course of action. But all lawyers resonated the same tone – due to the nature of our Malaysian system, not just judiciary but simply the culture of work within the government sectors, we will need a lot of mental & physical strength and $$$ to persevere because it will be a lonnnggg and tiring process.  That’s why most people don’t prosecute. They don’t have the means to do so. Sometimes, not because they don’t have the dollars and cents, but simply because it’s too exhausting and painful to relive the memories they want to put behind them.

I tend to crave for …

some hot, melted butterscotch on delectable cupcakes. 

durian covered in rich, dark chocolate ganache.

a little of peanut butter and cream, more chocolates and marshmallows and sometimes, a bite of carrot walnut & cheese.

But most of all, there is always, a craving now and then, for a Tiramisu pick-me-up.

The bad news is – when I crave and finish these ….. all within a week.

So, to stop this madness, I gave some calories away to Dr Normah and the ICU team at HKL because the morale there is so low I think they need this more than me. A little thank you gesture goes a long way.

Oh bugger…I guess I can blame it all on the festivities and long holiday. 

Gong Xi Fatt Chai and a happy prosperous rat year!

A future dictated by the meaning of your name?

That’s what name geomancy is all about – name analysis by character strokes, character meaning and combination.

I really don’t know much but over the years, many people have asked me to change my name due to the combination of “snow” + “cherry blossom”. My friend has recommended a sifu who is very reasonably priced. He can analyse your name for free, and you’ll only need to pay him if you want him to calculate and give you a new name. If you want his number, just drop me a message. So the sifu has changed my name to the following.  

Combination of “resting” + “seduction”. Kenneth said it sounds like a name for a pornstar.

Hmmmm…….. 15th century maiden or a closet pornstar?

Such a difficult decision.

Telephone call answered by the 3rd ring

15 minutes to renew your business license

2 hours to apply for a new passport 

7 days payment made to 60% of contractors who had submitted their invoices

14 days the maximum amount of time before a contractor is paid after he has submitted his invoice

70% of backlog cases in land offices have been cleared since 2004

- “One Service, One Deliver, No Wrong Door” as announced by Chief Secretary Tan Sri Mohd Sidek Hassan [New Sunday Times, 3rd Feb 08] -

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On a separate issue:

1 - 2 hours for an ambulance to arrive.

9 hours a critically injured patient was left in the “emergency ward” before he was prepped for surgery.

6,360km (3,432 nautical miles) the distance of a phone call made by someone from another country to another important someone at the hospital in order to get the doctors to take action.

7 hours for a police officer to arrive at mortuary. Less than 5 minutes to snap some pictures. 

3 visits to the hospital before someone can tell you the right answer that to get medical records and doctor’s statement, one needs to go to “Wisma Kayu”.

60 days you’ll have to wait to get the doctor’s statement and signature on a “yes/no” and short answers 1-page form.

RM200 – RM1,000 you’ll need to pay depending on “kerumitan kes” should you require the full medical record. (people don’t need a new statement or modified record, just the existing medical records, how “rumit” can that be?!)

Min 60 days waiting period to get medical records.

13 police summonses before bus driver claimed three lives on a road accident. 

- Voice of a frustrated Malaysian, and representing many more - 

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Elsewhere in Malaysia:

Even if you are caught on video, there is still a chance to get away with corruption at the highest level in Malaysia with the now infamous quote “it looks like me, sounds like me, the room matches the living room in my house, but I will not say 100% it is me.”

Barisan National’s big guns descended on Penang to hand out RM millions worth of goodies (in view of the coming general election). [The Star, 2nd Feb 08]

Malaysia’s Prime Minister launched The Emperor’s Clothes boutique belonging to daughter at Pavillion KL.

Health Minister got caught in a sex scandal.

The ironies of life and politics in Malaysia.

Time to stand up, take action and be counted! 

*kerumitan = complexity 

I’ve been procrastinating my visit to the hospital where my brother took his last breath.

I blamed it on the traffic. Blamed it on the difficulty of getting a decent parking at the crowded Hospital Kuala Lumpur (HKL). Blamed it on the hot weather. Truthfully, I was just afraid of stepping onto the compounds of HKL. Afraid of reliving the memories. Afraid of suffocating from sadness. Afraid that I might have to wait for hours again just to get a signature. But I realised I still gotta get all these administrative paperwork done in order to claim my brother’s insurance. So I braced myself and took a drive there one fine sunny afternoon.

The walk from where my car was parked to the buiding was a good 10-minute walk under the blazing sun. As I entered the building, I saw a few old ladies sitting on the bench by the entrance, in tears. I felt nothing. I entered the elevator and pressed button “3″. I thought I would be overwhelmed with nostalgia. I felt nothing. The door opened, I turned left, and walked past familiar green, blue plastic chairs. I remember looking at an old man. He looked tired. Some kids were seated next to him. They looked tired. Two ladies sat a few seats away. They looked tired. Two other boys were eating their economy rice and two cans of 100 plus took up a seat. I looked at them, and felt nothing. As I arrived at the ICU door, the rude guard looked at me and smiled. She remembers me. I looked at her and noticed her name, and smiled. When my brother was hospitalised, I argued with her, spoke to her, despised her. Yet, I never noticed the tag on the left side of her chest above the pocket or how white her teeth was.

I remember how cold the ICU room was. I stepped into the room but the chilly air was a good welcome from the hot weather outside. I walked past bed “8″. Saw a man in oxygen mask, surrounded by machines and inserted with tubes all over. I felt nothing. As I waited for the nurse to locate the doctor, I scanned the room. All patients looked the same to me. Critically ill. Three ladies rushed to a bed at the far corner. A nurse drew the curtains to give them their privacy. Few moments later, two more came in and rushed to the same bed. They looked sad, the only kind of sadness you see when someone was about to die. I felt nothing.

I was told to come back the following day between 12 – 3pm. I thanked the nurse and left.

As I was leaving, a Malay lady was shouting at the security guard to inform the guards downstairs to allow all relatives of ‘anonymous name’ to come up. I bought myself a 100 plus, took a sip and absorbed the surroundings – I could relate to many people there, but felt nothing. I realised, it was just another day at HKL. Different people come and go everyday. But the energy is always the same -exhausive, sombre, sad.

Just another day at HKL.