I am completely, utterly, to the nth degree, baffled.

I truly am.

Beautiful Homes @ Desa Park City

Here we are again, back at PropWall, a Malaysian website brimming with property resources. This time, however, I would be zooming in on a particular luxurious residential area: Desa Park City in Kepong. Sporting from homey light colour mould in conventional designs to edgy, modern designs spanning panes of glass and grey walls, the houses there ooze splendour.  As if that is not enough, this new blooming land of beautiful homes is divided into 10 different regions, or should I say, enclaves, each distinctive in the sense of architecture, landscape and price range.

And like all things posh, these homes have one-of-a-kind names to boast, adding a foreign tinge to them. Take The Ridgewood, for example, it is an array of 2-storey semi-detached homes built on a hilly area, with tropical elements sprinkled throughout the place, reflecting its name. Similar to The Ridgewood, LeVenue is a nest of 3-storey semi-detached and terrace houses residential, surrounded with concrete attractions such as The Waterfront, an up and coming shopping centre, restaurants, cafes and a community clubhouse.

Aside from classy semi-detached houses, Desa Park City also developed terrace houses, 2 and 3-storey parkhomes and courtyard apartments. One of the enclaves that consists of a mixture of all 3 of them is Adiva, a relatively new development within Desa Park City, with a total of 144 units nestled among amenities like commercial centre, central park, schools, hospitals and many others. But if you are hunting solely for elegantly structured terrace houses, then have a look at SouthLake, also known as SouthLake Terraces, a residential comprising of 291 units of 2 and 3-storey terrace houses.

Lastly, the most recent launched enclave called Amelia, but what makes this a variant from SouthLake is the existence of linear parks and private gardens, which explains why it is also known as Amelia Garden Homes. It is a fairly large place consisting of 110 2-storey houses and 26 3-storey houses and equiped with recreational facilities, namely a jogging track and a clubhouse.

Besides these 5 enclaves, there are others, such as Zenia, Nadia, Adora, Safa and The Northshore. For more information regarding any of the properties mentioned above, do drop by the webpage Desa Park City and you might just be surprised at what you could find out from it.

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

This morning saw the return of the Ear Training quiz results. *Sides of the lips twist downwards* Screwed up the bloody thing. I know I hadn’t been practicing chords dictation on my own (not that anyone else did, for that matter, as far as I could tell), but 4 out of 10? Preposterous. And one of the mistakes was my failure in putting a 7 in front of sus4, meaning it should have been written as 7sus4, and not simply sus4.  I am baffled at my stupidity.

And that was GOOD morning to you.

****************************************************************************

I only had my lunch way after 2pm.

“Didn’t I tell you to eat something just now?” Wei Kit sounded exasperated.

“I did! I ate yogurt!”

He smacked his head and buried it in his hands. Hmmm. He seemed pretty dumbfound by my answer. What? Was yogurt not food?

Whatever. I was busy gaping at my Vegetarian Oat Pan Mee, perplexed at its sheer size. It would have stuffed Andrew up just nice. Or Kevin. Or my bro. Or any guy, in fact. But I could die eating that thing.

So, I donated a portion of it to him, partially because I didn’t want it to go to waste if I could not finish it, and partially because all HE had for lunch was a slice of cake. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Then, he and Sudharma both perched on their stools patiently like ladies-in-waiting while the queen gobbled her noodles away. Okay. I felt bad and tried to hurry up but it was hard to do that without appearing like a starving forlorn creature.

 But I managed to wash the whole bowl down with an hour to spare before Pop Music History at 4pm. Yay me.

And it was grocery time.

I Dove headlong for my shampoo immediately. Thank God. The one I just got rid of had been farting, whenever I squeezed it, for some time now.  Another 24 hours and I would have either stunk of unwashed hair or resolved to primitive method of cracking an egg over my head as shampoo. Ugh.

Sudharma got himself yet another packet of frozen sausages. And that breath freshener chewing gum thing. Speaking of which, I haven’t even opened the one he bought me last week. Aha. Must be my aversion towards minty eatables.

Anyway, I was scanning the back row with Sudharma when Wei Kit walked over with a dried prune. Me waaaaaant. So I followed him to where he nabbed it from, thinking there were free food samples.

It came from a container that said NO TESTING.

Wow. Good to know some people were law-abiding.

As I stared, he motioned putting his hand into the plastic box.

“Just put your hand in and take one.”

I eyed him suspiciously. But he seemed so serious. Fine. Screw my guilty conscience. So I did just that. Reached in and grabbed one of the dark squished fruit.

He looked as if he choked on the prune. He probably did.

“I can’t believe you actually did it!”

Yeah. Me neither. I scowled at my hands. But, I must say, it was exhilarating. When breaking the rules wasn’t?

Snatched up a tofu before the final stop at the cashier. My source of protein. Wei Kit thought it was carbohydrate.

“Uhm. Tofu is made up of soya and soya is protein.”

“See! Even a music student knows more than you! I’m speechless.” Sudharma was incredulous. Haha.

Sum of price of shopping trip: RM58+. Darn those Reese’s Pieces with Nuts (sort of like M&M’s but with peanut butter filling instead of chocolate).

************************************************************************
Ditched Dhamma talk just now.

Transcribing can be a pain in the ass.

2 hours for a slowed-down version of a song. Double the time length for a Capella. I swear, this course is mass-producing perfect-pitchers.

Holy crap. So they really weren't exaggerating when they said they called 10 times. Aha. 

It's on the tip of my tongue but I'm still afraid

See that huge scar across the back of my Jazzology? Yes. OUCH.

First a split between the epidermis and the thick paper base off a tiny corner of the front cover, just as hair has split-ends. *Draws in a sharp, pain breath*

Now THIS. *Thumps hand hard on the heart and gasps* Mummy is so so sorry, baby.

P.S. Exactly what I wanted to say too. You speak my mind, Colbie Caillat.

Music of the World

Beautiful. Simply beautiful.
If only I were lying in a hammock by the beach and cradled by the arms of a gentle breeze...
Have a listen. Close your eyes. And you'll find yourself appreciating the little things in life and feeling thankful for those around you.
The magic of World Music (:

No message could have been any clearer

Name: Ying Hui
Date: 1/24/2010
Colorgenics Number: 17204563

At this time you are feeling 'uptight' and you are urgently in need of rest and relaxation; but perhaps even more than that you need to overcome that feeling that you have been 'hard done by' and treated with a complete lack of consideration. Maybe you have, but whatever may have been the cause of your inherent anxiety, you regard that situation as intolerable. You are, however, sufficiently competent to turn that situation around - you have overcome similar problems in the past, and really this one isn't too different.

You are a fighter and always on the defensive. You have always need to be sure that your position is safe and established. When you finally make a decision you will pursue it to the bitter end in spite of all opposition.

You honestly believe that your hopes and ideas are realistic, but there seems to be no one around to give you the necessary reassurance and encouragement. You are egocentric. You believe that you are always 'right' - well maybe you are but you have a short fuse and are likely to take offence for the slightest reason.

There is considerable amount of stress present in your life at this time and this is perhaps due to some considerable mental and physical frustration. There are various physical needs that are necessary for your well-being but whatever the reasons - mostly of your own making - your needs are not being fulfilled. We wonder why? You are under the impression that nobody seems to care for you. This predicament is most uncomfortable and it is because of this that you are experiencing far more stress than you feel you can cope with. You need to find a soul mate - someone who truly understands you and whose standards are as high as your own. As matters stand you would like to break away from the vicious cycle that you find yourself entrapped but this is easier said than done. You refuse to compromise with your opinions and essentially you are unable to resolve the situation because you are continually postponing the making of the necessary decision. You are stubborn but this should be no deterrent experiencing a happy life.

You are completely worn out and you are not in the mood for any further demands on your resources. The situation - such as it is - has rendered you quite helpless, unable to continue the mental battle that you have been pursuing for some considerable time. Enough is enough. All you would like to do now would be to have some time for yourself, to find a peaceful situation on where you can recuperate in your own time.

http://colorgenicstest.com/












Whoa. Mind-blown.

Maybe I should have been awake instead

Apart from the glass-shattering, ear-splitting BOOM from my horns part during the first 4 bars of the song, I must say I was pretty satisfied with our overall performance. All of us were. And I didn’t screw up either of my upbeat entrances. Cheers!

Kudos to Hueyuen and Stephen for keeping the song tight! And many thanks to the 6 guests for rocking with us and making the first symphonic metal song of the semester possible!

Band assessment 1 down, 2 more to go before the axe swings home for Finals in April.

********************************************************

There was something inexplicably wrong with Wei Kit just now. Honestly. He just kept laughing throughout dinner.  Like he breathed in too much of helium gas or something. Plus, he and Sudharma were both oddly enthusiastic about screwing up their classes and assignments this past week.

Talk about stress cracking people up, if you get my drift.

Which is why I have writing. It is an output for all the pressure and absurdity I’m absorbing on a daily basis. It is my chlordiazepoxide.

Anyway, since dad wouldn’t be picking me up till 9pm, I tagged along with them to Giant to accompany Sudharma for grocery shopping, or, to pinpoint it, junk shopping. Nachos, crackers, cookies, frozen sausages, chewing gum, and the likes of them. The relationship between guys, junk and sanity still befuddles me. Someone theorize it, please.

Not that I’m going to bother myself with it. Wei Kit thinks I think too much =.=”

But let’s look on the bright side, though I don’t mean the junk factor in guys is a negative issue. I found myself a Giant shopping accomplice! All I have to do is align my schedule with Sudharma’s and scratch out a common free slot when we needed to refill our food vault. Yay. Starvation worries solved (:

It was pouring slightly heavier than before when we were about to leave. Boo. Though I wouldn’t quite mind if I weren’t wearing my dumb baggy, floor-sweeping jeans. Made me think of the good old occasional days of dashing through the slashes of rain from the gate to the petrol station; partially out of impatience, partially out of madness, partially out of spite.  But as it was, I was marched back to the college in a prim-and-proper manner by Sudharma with an umbrella over my head (Wei Kit simply plucked mine of out my hands and strode away with it). Not that I was complaining. I just missed my impetuosity.

Still had an hour or so to kill when we reached the top of the hill. Decided to spend it in the Floor of Pianos (Block C Level 1 duh), half of it teaching Sudharma and the other half making a fool out of myself (guess who hasn’t been practicing much these days?).

Got home around 10.15pm and went brain-dead soon after. 6 hours of Playwrights Workshop with Ben Payne tomorrow. Wish me luck on my survival My lack of avidity scares me. I need chocolate.

We Can Go Anywhere

While Amanda was touring, touching and tasting the REAL City That Never Sleeps, we poor leftovers Malaysia-bound dwellers here had to make-do with our improvised version of  NYC, something our vivid imagination and my sugar rush had no trouble with.

(Photos are re-arranged to suit my make-belief story of our delusional visit to the Big Apple)

Started the day with our crossing of the Manhattan Bridge by foot. Nothing beats ogling at HBT (Hot Blonde Things) to fizz up your brains in the morning. Plus, the fresh air was a desperately needed change after the stale, non-circulatory conditioned air we (at least me and Eu Chern) breath in day in day out from the hours spent in college.

Then, with the ratio of HBT against OBT (the 'O' stands for Old or Obese) turning alarmingly imbalanced, we decided to feast our stomachs instead. So, we had a picnic on the MET steps, a fusion breakfast of Roti Canai (thanks to Eu Chern) and self-service scone-sandwiches (courtesy of Jing Hua)! Me and Joanna topped that up with packet drinks and Chipsmore!

Of course, it ain't complete without some pests.

Especially pudgy ones.

After a disturbing encounter with magpies, aka magpees, which were probably attracted to my grainy voice we left for Central Park! Before entering the grassy lands, we saw the Fountain of Youth (pretty ironic considering the touchy topic that day)! Attempted to emanate my exotic drinking aura through the camera. Failed miserably, evidently. Captured an authentic exotica, eh-zho-thee-kah as Angelicious would pronounce it, in the background instead, much to Jing's delight.

And so we laid down on the dewy green carpet in heart of the park.

At peace with Mother Nature and thankful we still had each other (:

Sometimes, it was okay to just screw the rules. The whistle-blowing guards were merely strung puppets with uniform who scoffed at people who did things they didn't. Live life.

Interpret at your own risk Be a free-spirit.

Release your inner child.

Spice things up.

Most importantly, cam-whore. When memory fails, photographs don't.

Our imaginary New York City trip did live up to our expectations, didn't it?

P.S. Stop calling me Teri Hatcher! I want my voice back!

P.P.S. Thank you, Lucy of England for the Christmas card! Me loves the sparkly snowmen!

Come on, paint me a rainbow so I can follow it

Honestly, second week is barely over and half of us are plagued with diseases. Classes are beginning to become hosts to a series of symphonies of coughs and sneezes. God, even I sound like my viola, with a sandy touch, thanks to my inexplicable sore throat. Ugh.

Thus, the lot of us (me, Wen Dee, Song Lin, Eunice, Wai Kit, Jia Wen, Rachel, Kevin, Carmen, Audrey, Zi Ming, David Chiok and Rou Yen) decided to go on an impromptu trip after choir to some stall by the roadside for some nutritious Tong Sui.

I was kind of abducted there, after standing and staring blankly while the meter in my mind fluctuated wildly and struggled to settle on either joining them for Sugar Water or ditching the whole bunch for Buddhist talk. I was shoved into the car before the point could swing close to any one of the two. Fine. I lied. I really intended to head straight to the talk but the scene of a merry crowd of 4 cars buzzing to go for a drink swayed me. Shhh. He’ll kill me if he finds out (I’m crossing my fingers he wouldn’t read this post).

Ended up walloping a bowl of thick, steaming peanut soup instead. Oooh la la. There, a solid argument against my guilty conscious of choosing sinful indulgence over religious teachings. At least for the first hour and a half.

Arrived at the classroom at 9pm, out of breath and weary from lugging my viola and an unnecessarily heavy metal water tumbler, with an overweight bag slung across me and a book made up of half a ton of paper AND racing around the ground floor of Block C to locate it.

Was greeted with feigned-disappointed look and a shake of the head from Wei Kit. So much for a welcome.

Slumped on my chair like a rag doll for the rest of the talk, which dragged to 10pm. I gave up warring with my guilty conscious and attempted to concentrate on what the person was saying, while fastidiously ignoring my itchy throat.

Guess who was forced to introduce herself to the mass audience? Ugh.

All I had in my head was sleep and recharging my batteries for tomorrow’s classes when Wei Kit asked if I had my dinner. I was suddenly aware of my skipped meal. Screw the peanut soup, that was liquid.

I was seriously fine with missing dinner once in a while, but he was like, “I can teman you makan.”

Cool. Makan it was, then.

I had vegetarian spring rolls. YES I KNEW THEY WERE FRIED AND THEY WOULD JUST SORE MY THROAT but there was nothing much left on the menu. He suggested Ala Carte dishes. Ugh. At 10pm?! He didn’t find that an issue somehow. He thought it could help train my metabolism (?!)  Male species.

Sat and chatted there till the waiter had to shoo us out. Whoa, a record. Had never been asked to leave a restaurant before, albeit in a polite way. Was walked back to the hostel by his friend who passed by Samosa then joined us for the last 15 minutes.

Damn, I feel highly giggling-prone now. Must be that hot chocolate drink.

P.S. So so sorry, Brother, for not calling you to cancel the practice! I promise I’ll practice with you as long as you want to next Monday to make up for it!

I feel like an idiot to the highest degree

Band is no laughing matter.

You SHOULD NOT

WOULD NOT

DO NOT

screw up your band.

Not with 4 or 5 people's lives marks teetering in a delicate balancing act.

You mess up, consequences are...
instant death
instant death
and instant death.

Hello, Grim Reaper.

I'm boxed in, but I'll survive.

After making a couple of painstaking changes to the original time table, thanks to the Fruity Boy, as Juan called you-know-who, not to mention a much grueling job of scheduling for mutually available band practice-time slot, may I present you our (those in Degree 3) life semester sentence.

Monday

HAMM 2                                  10.00am-11.00am

Band practice                              4.00pm-5.00pm

Tuesday

Improvisation Skills 1                 10.30am-11.30pm

Ear Training 2                             11.30am-12.30pm

Song writing 1                               3.00pm-4.00pm

Popular music history 1                 4.00pm-5.30pm

Band coaching                              5.30pm-6.00pm

Choir                                            6.00pm-7.30pm

Wednesday

HAMM 2                                    3.00pm-4.00pm

Viola class                                   4.00pm-4.30pm

Thursday

Ear Training 2                             10.30am-11.30am

Improvisation Skills 1                  11.30am-12.30pm

Band practice (depends)                3.00pm-4.00pm

Popular music history                    4.00pm-5.30pm

Choir                                           6.00pm-7.30pm

Friday

Master class (occasionally)          10.00am-12.00pm           

Recital attendance                        12.30pm-1.30pm             

Modern Band Ensemble                 2.00pm-4.00pm

Note: my individual piano lessons and the 3 additional hours of accursed choir sectional practices have yet to be included.

We are literally LEFT FOR DEAD.

I'm still feelin' the rain fall, bouncin' off my skin,

How long do I have to wait for the sun to shine again?

Exhale the stress so you don't come unglued

Unbeknownst to outsiders, we Contemporary Music students seem to have an unwritten mutually agreed policy: college does not commence, at least not in OUR reality, till the Modern Band Ensemble band list is released and stapled onto the notice board for all to see.

Honestly, for the last 3 days of self-declared-extension-of-freedom, we had been warming up our fingers not on the piano keys or the fretboard but on 6 particular keypads of the keyboard: the letters ‘W’, ‘A’, ‘S’, ‘D’, ‘E’ and Spacebar. Oh. And vigorous exercise for our right index finger on the mouse too. Not to mention vocal training, what with the screeching from the onslaught of multiple Tanks AND the special defected Hunter, Boomer, Smoker and Spitter all in one shot. We could have made Vincent Kang proud.

With us lost, mentally, in the virtual world of zombies’ goo and slashing claws, classes and ASSignments seemed so surreal somehow. As if between sessions of L4D, we were just wandering blindly through a forest, the assignments a bunch of fallen leaves which we shrugged or brushed off as we stepped out of the green realm.

The bliss of being insouciant.

But then, *peels of thunder roar* Thursday came. So did the band list.

My God, the killer-suspense. The fear. The drama.

Within 10 seconds, a face could morph from a pale mask of dread to one of sanguinary like Jia Wen, or of satisfactory like Andrew and Emmanuel, or a look of relief like most. The power of names, or in some cases, a single name. And trust me, that piece of paper could very well determine a person’s mood for the rest of the semester.  No kidding. I could think of a certain someone who could testify to that.

But no matter. What has past is past. Wearing the frustration and anger again is so last season semester. Highly unfashionable.

Anyway, I see grey skies above. Soon it would be a thunderstorm of band practice scheduling, song choosing and tons of jamming. *Sighs in defeat* The key is turned, the lock secured. Back to school, peeps.

You made me crazier, crazier.

Barbaric Audacious adventures we used to have throughout our synthetically sweetened childhood years of growing up together:

- A luxurious camping trip in FRIM, our 5-star bivouac nested comfortably in the midst of a tame forest on sandy grounds, furnished with toilets, shower stalls, a cement campfire pit and a raised platform for after-dinner-football-match-in-pyjamas. I had never loved nature so much.

- Being offered as sacrificial subjects to the mouth of Gua Tempurung. Nah. We were supposed to be dazzled and mesmerized by the gallery of limestone stalagmites and stalactites (It was breath-taking alright. I could barely breathe, the bat dung stench was overwhelming), but all we could remember were the endless climbing and descending of steps, the steep slide down the smooth face of a rock, and the waddling through an underground passage submerged in dark waters up to our necks, with our packs either perched on our wobbling heads or hugged close to our chins. I felt like a drug smuggler.

- Yet another camping trip. The ugly truth unveiled. We had to prepare, set up and pack away EVERYTHING, from tents to foldable tables and chairs to electric cooking stoves, with our BARE HANDS. Not that we kids suffered much, we just had to make sure we did not drown ourselves in the gushing current of the Ulu Yam waterfall/river.

- Impromptu day trips to Pulau Ketam and Morib beach, both in disastrous conditions, as far as tourism was concerned.

- 6 weeks of ice-skating lessons. From 15 slips and falls in one class to none in the last, I had survived them and savored the experience. I was proud of my bruises and blisters, a personal journal of how much I had learnt and how hard I was willing to work my ass for it. The more the merrier.

- Taman Negara. The leech-infested jungle treks, the dangling canopy trail, the short dips in icy pools, the mosquito-swatting night walks, the midnight maggi feast…

- Snorkeling at Pulau Lang Tengah. Just as the jungle trips had been excruciatingly exhausting and draining of energy, vacations at beaches had been a blissful stretch of relaxation in an exotic paradise of our own. How could anyone not enjoy getting dumped in the middle of the sea and making your leisurely way back to shore, all the while hovering hundreds of feet above corals and millions of sea creatures?

Trust me. These are just to name a few, the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.

10 years down the lane and we are now all post-emo phase, though still hormone-raging, teenagers. We have matured so much, compared to then!

Gavin

Joelle and Cecelia

Parody of the photo above

And I'm supposed to be related to him

Nyam nyam nyam!

Mouth full of food

We're like flies attracted to the dung in the toilets.

Great minds think alike

The interesting thing about our dessert, was that 3 pairs of siblings ordered the same food without realising it. The thaumaturgy of blood?

Cecelia and Cassandra

Gavin and Joelle

Me and sis

We got yelled at thrice, by 2 different restaurant slaves workers. First for grabbing without permission 7 extra crab-hammers so we wouldn't have to pass the sole hammer around. Second for simply swaying the swing, knocking against the rock placed there to limit the arch of the swing.
"Eh! What are you all doing? The swing is not for you to play! You all want to spoil the swing only satisfy, is it?!" The selfish obese female dog spat in Mandarin. Our ears bled.

None of us bulged. None of us moved a muscle. Sorry fat lady, we speak no Mandarin.

As for the third, we had no idea what our crime was. The androgynous-looking waitress of the restaurant where we were having dessert just screamed at us to get out of HER way.

"Go out and wait. Don't stand here and block the way!"
"But we need 8 places and this table is leaving soon..."
"I know! Just tell me the number of people and I'll prepare the tables for you! See! You're now blocking people's way!"
"But we've been standing outside for so long and no one sits us..."
"If you didn't tell me the number of people, how would I know how many tables to prepare?! Just stand outside there and wait!"

We spent the whole time reminiscing about how much we missed Swenson's Volcano Ice-cream and making faces and disgusted noises at the menu. We were all ranged from 15 to 19 years old.

How's that for a reunion?

I'll start my year with you in a rain of silly strings

Things only got a wee bit way lunatic after the countdown. The hour before was spent on loitering in a much deserted One Utama with its lights being snuffed out section by section, desperately distancing ourselves from the throng of minions streaming towards the, God forbid, Taiwanese and Hong Kong groups-infested concert at Central Park. Clams were abundant. The stench of rotten seafood was in the air.

Time to leave this contaminated vicinity.

So we picked our way to the road intersection through the maze of parked cars and, trusting my unpredictably horrendous sense of direction, the 4 of us trudged, while Qian Xi star-jumped, towards the blazing spotlights of the Curve, since a certain sibling of mine decided that slowing her and her friends’ pace to guide us would dilute her adrenaline rush thus appearing less appealing herself to that specific him someone. Talk about ho over bro.

But no matter. Me, Joanna, my bro, Qian Xi and Jia Wei made the most out of each other’s company, though, like I had mentioned, we didn’t go psychotic till AFTER it was officially declared 2010.

The 3 guys warmed up by spraying empty silly string cans at the back of people’s heads, and blowing wind out through gritted teeth for the sound effect, until the victims patted their still-dry hair and twisted around to stare annoyingly at them. Only to find no guilty/apologetic faces but 3 ROFL freaks.

Then, pissed and fired up by my sister’s lack of cooperation to display her new object of infatuation, we sped down the path of insanity.

We began screaming HAPPY NEW YEAR at random pedestrians and drivers alike.

I don’t know. The claustrophobic press of bodies, the screeching of innumerable hoi polloi, whose very existence a crime, the interminable monotonous droning of some local singer on the stage, the over inhalation of aerosol or whatever ‘breath-taking’ carbon emission-contributing chemicals compressed in the silly strings and foam sprays and the unfortunate revelation of the passing of another year somehow COMPELLED us to shriek at EVERY FREAKING PASSERBY all the way home.

The ritual started off with the 3 weirdos lolling about and acting nonchalant by the elevators in IKEA while waiting for one of them to fill up, then when it did and just before the doors slid shut, they jabbed the open button viciously and planned to shout the 3 words at the poor souls. Note that I use the word ‘planned’, coz like all schemes of evil doings, it would take more than one try to get them done. Not that the 3 succeeded in any.  

Failed and disgruntled, we moved on to other more vulnerable targets. (Oh, did I mention a cute guy asked me and only me us for directions to Petronas? After which we proceeded to gap at him blankly until my bro blurted out, “Erm, you mean the Petronas petrol station?” HAHA. Retards.)

Hence, the rest of the 20 minute journey home was a blur of roaring and hollering either in passersby’s faces or at cars crawling beside us and sugar-rushed giggling and hyena-cackling. I remembered us crossing an empty street to the jammed side that was oozing its way out of the Bandar Utama area, and running zig-zag through the lines of vehicles to yell HAPPY NEW YEAR at them. Qian Xi and Jia Wei even squashed their faces against some of the rolled up windows to hurl the greeting through the glass. Sometimes I question my acquaintance with these people.

But the most demented part was, as if beckoned by his friends’ derangement, my bro succumbed to schizophrenia as well. And brought it up a notch. We approached a bus, intending to spread our well-wishes, when my bro spotted the bus driver busy talking to a boarding passenger, took the opportunity and climbed onto the four-wheeler, ran through the length of it squealing HAPPY NEW YEAR and flew down the steps to land on the pavement ahead of us. We could have died laughing.  

Qian Xi got it all on tape (a figure of speech).

Ah, such sweet delirious moments.

The crowd at the South Entrance

What they thought about the fireworks.
Why, Jia Wei, what a long tongue you have!

Jia Wei, my bro and Qian Xi

Ooo! The Law of Attraction sided us once again! We reached the house just in time to escort some of my sis' friends to the nearby 7 Eleven, including the BB (code name for her newest specimen)!

Awww....how matching. So cute.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! 

LIVE FREELY AND UNTAINTED BY ANXIETY FOR THE WORLD AIN'T GOING TO END yet!