THIRDEYEJ[0]EL

Many things come and go, some make a mark and some don’t, but even for a guy like me who hasn’t a “Nostalgic” word in his dictionary, this Christmas made me realize that there are a few things worth keeping into the future. Particularly a phone call and the memory it brought… But a man’s got to move on. To traverse boldly into the unknown and to hope for the best. Memories that stir the heart to rage, memories that hum a melancholic tune, memories that ring of laughters and joy… Memories… though they are but toys of ponder (because eventually, a man’s got to move on) proud am I nonetheless, that at least I have a sweet load of memories to carry and keep -perhaps for means of edification, resuscitate a broken soul because sweet Memories, just like photographs, prove that at a certain point, someone cared enough to ‘snap’ an action or speech that brought these Memories into existence.

25th December crept in with so little significance that the supposed auspicious excitement impressed upon such a day failed to haul me out’o’bed. I woke up late in the afternoon, partially a blank and partially confused by the apparent emptiness of my house. It seemed that I had utterly forgotten the fact that just like Chinese New Year, most of the Christians in Kuala Terengganu would go house visiting during Christmas. I didn’t realize this until I called my mum asking when she’s coming home to take me out for lunch. Hearing the loud and clamor of Festivity’s vivacity in the background, and my mum’s voice struggling to be heard o’er the phone, the juxtaposition of the house I was in as compared to the one my mum was visiting suddenly made my heart winced. “This is Christmas after all,” I thought to myself. “And perhaps one of my last here in K.T.”

What followed next was a series of… well, Christmas rush 😀

“Mum, we need to do something!”

“Talk louder boy I can’t hear you!”

“Something must be done!”

“Huh?”

“Tonight! We need to do something tonight!”

And indeed, something was done.

I began calling up my friends and my Sis did likewise. It was extremely awkward inviting people over for a Christmas party on the very day itself! Then again, the whole thing was at such a last minute notice so much so manners and courtesy were the last thing we had in mind.

The next few hours saw me and my mum rushing to Giant for ingredients. Like hamsters, we raced through the mega store, vigorously filling up our trolley so that it abrimed with minced meat, tomatoes, mayonnaise, spaghetti, cheddar cheese, hot dogs, potatoes and the likes. The resit of our purchase was at such a length I could coil it round my belly several times and make a belt out of it!

When we reached home, the kitchen was set ablaze and everyone got down to performing whatever tasks they voluntarily assigned themselves. Mum and Sis made Shepperd’s Pie and I made the Spaghetti sauce. For the very first time in the Soh family, Mother, Son and Daughter were not only present in the kitchen but were simultaneously working their asses off in accordance toward a common goal -that is, to prepare our guests with a 100% home cooked meal (something we’ve never done before) and to make sure that it’s entirely Italian (last time, we use to serve Nasi Briani or other Malay cuisine). The toil was no joke, we had to prepare 3 huge servings of Shepperd’s Pie, a huge pot of Spaghetti sauce enough for 30 people, bunch of sausages (marinated and baked) and a bowl of potato salad, all of em in just an hour and a half!

Thankfully, by the time our guests arrived, all of them food were ready to be served. Most of them liked the cooking and some were even kind enough to offer praises. I guess I could call it a success after all 🙂

The Witter’s Section

This bagger wanted me to write just how tasty his wraps were! Well, truth be told, it is rather good. Haha… Ok, OK, It’s damn fucking delicious, happy? But I deserve some credit too! I bought them egg rolls instead of tortillas and I’m pretty sure that sorta made all the difference! LOL These wraps aren’t too complicating to make, but just like any mass production with poor division of labor, it ironically consumed more time and effort than necessary. Nevertheless, by the end of the night, there was not a single wrap left. That oughta speak for itself. I’m just really glad Witter came in and add a recipe to the menu!

Joel’s Spaghetti Sauce:

It’s pretty simple. I took a recipe I saw online for Beef Taco and altered it into spaghetti sauce. Here’s what I did:

Ingredients:

2.5 kg of lean Beef meat

1.4 kg of minced Beef meat (I used Ramli’s)

7 cans of Campbell’s Condensed Tomato

3 packets of shredded cheddar cheese

1 bottle of salsa sauce

Onions

Sugar & salt

Directions:

Fry onions with butter in a skillet and keep it aside. Then use a huge pot, throw in 1/2 a cube of butter (lest if you’re health conscious) and dump in minced Beef meat. Fry until it turns a lil’ brownish then dump in lean Beef meat (makes sure that they are cut into small cubics, approximately 1cmx1cm, and grounded with the back of a butcher-knife). Stir the mixture of meat until they are a well brown. Pour off any fat. After that, pour in all 7 cans of Condensed Tomato, a bottle of salsa and the fried onions. Keep stirring the mixture on medium heat for about 20 minutes and then throw in all 3 packets of shredded cheddar cheese. Add in 2 spoons of sugar and 2 teaspoons of salt. Stir the mixture again for approximately 10 more minutes.

Note that the directions above are for a serving of 28-30 people. My Sis said that spaghetti’s one of the easiest meal to cook -favored most by the sluggards. Well in my opinion, that’s not entirely true. Not when you’re cooking a massive amount in a massive pot!

Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed their time here! Merry Christmas! 😀

A dinner with my family bout 2 days ago. Most of em are stuff I learned from a friend of mine, Ana, when she was still back in Subang. So Ana, if you’re seeing this, witness thus how I have improved! 😀

The Overview:

Steak (seasoned with McCormick’s Parsley and Mixed Herbs, plus lots of Black Pepper!), Boiled Broccoli, Mashed Potato & Scrambled Eggs:

Fried Hot Dogs and er… some mixture of minced beef, ground beef, tomatoes and lots of Cheddar Cheese (it was something made out of instinct, but surprisingly tasted good).

Shiraz Gold Label Red Wine:

Here’s the whole Family:

Here’s the 5th family member:

And finally, a lil’ Parfait to seal the meal 🙂

P/S: Just so I don’t get “lembu punya susu, Sapi punya nama” from my Sis, I admit that she and my maid did lend me a slight hand!

I got my SAT II results today… 620 for Literature and 720 for Maths II… I’m at this point feeling like the lowest, basest most useless scumbag God ever created… Took classes, worked my ass of round those fucking A,B,C,D, and E yet it all winds up to these pathetic figures… How to they make it look so easy? How come so many find SATs easy? Why…

All them big dreams and efforts I put into seeing turtle steps towards them… and I can’t even handle SAT! How come everyone else make it look so simple?!?!?!?!! AM I THAT FUCKING STUPID?!?!?!?! JESUS!! FUCK!!!!!!!! am I that stupid…. stupid.. stupid…

I am a big NOTHING.. that’s what I am. an empy ‘O’ .. it’s even there in the middle of my name… what a joke to think that I even worthed something.. that my brains could actually think… that I was even slightly talented… bunch of illusions.. I always have to struggle past things… and at the end of it all, realize that I am a Big Fat NOTHING!

and as of this moment… solitude greets me… that emptiness and loneliness… and everybody else laughing… with their tall black shadows casting an ominous gloom… they laugh… they scoff.. even She laughs.. even she scoffs

But what am I to say or do? I am a fat nothing.. I can not face myself

Life back here in the roots has been surprisingly bearable. Apart from the persistent sporadic doldrums and a ubiquitous tedium in which the locals proudly adulate, the place also features an unfortunate paucity of entertainment, dead silent streets after 11 o’clock, non-existence of massage parlors or spas, defunct public swimming pool, empty pubs on a Friday night etc. And despite the town’s elevation to a ‘City’, the line: “Terengganu don’t have any fucking cinema lah!” still stands. Here’s a place where fast food restaurants such as KFC and Pizza Hut are deemed the cutting edge of Luxury.

In the face of these, I simply quelch expectations. Forget about song writing since the current laptop’s not even capable of decent internet navigation. Forget about wanting to try out that recipe I saw online since flour tortillas and salsa sauce are nonentity. Forget about DotA sprees since there’s always an inevitable lack of players. Forget it all. Than to brood and get vexed over these impossible maze-like walls of limitations, I’d best contend myself with what’s possible. Thus, adhering to the tacit admonition from within, I decided to focus on the more important: Family.

Yesterday, I helped my Dad with his furniture store. We assembled 60 towel hangers. S-I-X-T-Y. It’s not rocket science, that I know, but the figure 60, that oughta account for something, no? Then again, there’s 90 more to go since the order was for 150. Takes quite an effort assembling them parts and drilling them nails. To be more precise, my toil was mostly piecing-the-parts whilst my dad did the drilling. Tool: a pen knife and a hammer was all I was given. It did get slighty tedious after a while, that I admit. But then again, buys me conversation time with my dad, and I gotta say, it’s really worth it.

That aside, guess how much these hangers cost? RM22! And guess how much they sell? You won’t believe this: RM26! I understand that business wise, the revenue’s still a fair 20% and when you think of it in percentage, it ain’t that bad. But when you’re actually working on assembling them, RM4 per piece?! Plus that ain’t even the labour’s wage! RM4 would probably be divided as such: RM1 for Petrol, RM1 for labour and RM2 as dad’s profit. These are rough figures but even if the boss were to be a benevolently generous Grace, the labour would probably be priced at RM1.5 tops. Fucking impossible job. Assemble all 150 units and that worker probably gets only RM225 (which will require a minimal 2 days of excruciating hard work). In other words, precisely 9 hours of non-stop muscle extirpation would be needed to earn that worker a petty RM112.50. Fuck. That’s like 1 clubbing night; 2 days of Food and Entertainment; a pair of Bata sneakers; 1 meal for two in TGI Friday – and –and… Holy Shit! Was my dad trying to make me feel blessed? Open my eyes? Jesus!

As for today, I was promoted. Dad handed me the drills. Said he them towel hangers can wait, that there’s an order of color boxes that needs to be ready by tomorrow – 150 units. In comparison to towel hangers, this sorta work’s much more complicating, requires a certain steady hand, and makes you look much like a pro. I like it. And since it’s a Sunday ( a working day in Terengganu so we don’t get as much customers distracting us as yesterday’s did) , 2 of dad’s workers were available to help me out. So that makes 3 of us. More limbs to speed things up. Though we did face a problem: there were only 2 drillers available. If you work in a furniture shop, you’d know that ‘The Drill” is a fucking important tool. Whichever unlucky bastard gets assigned to a furniture assembling  job without one, he’d be killing his hands with those awful primitive sticks called screw drivers. Then again, such facts are irrelevant to me. I’m the boss’s son 😀 Course he’d hand me a drill – Ah, that wonderful tool of expediency! I needn’t my brain to grow irksome over ‘not-getting-the-drill’ sorta thoughts. Like I said, I’m the boss’s son. There’s a certain air of authority that comes with it, even when I’m not the one signing their cheques. This is something Mum never learnt. When you have power, no matter how you got it, fucking exploit it! So long as people don’t get harmed or ‘damaged’ along the way. Exploit it while you can! Make the best out of it! Mum calles it ‘Corrupt’, I choose to see it as ‘Wisdom’. The disparity often makes me wonder if I’m at all her son! *chuckles* Anyways, I made almost 20 sets of color boxes in 90 minutes! I hope dad’s proud.

Moments:

A cop sirens a creeping car to pull over. The incident happened in front of Dad’s furniture store. Joel and Dad was watching.

Joel: “Huh? Why did he get pulled over?”

Dad chuckles. Then gives a smirk.

Joel: “I sped and cut a police car to get here and nothing happened to me!”

Joel chuckles but Dad stops. The smirk struggled to stay on, resisting the force to turn turtle.  It was really awkward.

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Joel: “Dude, lets check out China town. Hear they say there’s a massage parlor o’er there.”

Witter: “You serious ar?!” (Laughs in disbelief)

Joel: “Ya, ya, ya, lets go!”

Witter drove on. Stops at a building in China town.

Witter: “Nah, here. I hear they say here got hookers.”

Joel: “What the fuck?”

Witter: “I though you said…”

Joel: “I said M-A-S-S-A-G-E. I meant legal ones!”

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

 Joel: “Dad, I need to get new underwears. Money.”

Dad: “Oh.”

Mum: “I thought we just bought you a set? And don’t think I didn’t see all those dog-bitten underwears I saw in your house!”

Dad: “Huh?!”

Whatever Mum said, that was lawyer stuff, she’d already have all em counter-answers for all 20 possible replies that may have crossed Joel’s mind. It was futile. Desperate, Joel pulled his pants down.

Joel: “See what I’m wearing now? It’s chokin’ my balls!”

Dad: “Oi! Don’t simply take my underwear!”

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Mum: “I thought you win an Oscar award if your movie’s very popular or if it’s a blockbuster?”

Joel: “Ma, it’s called the ‘Academy’ award for a reason.”

Mum: “Oh…”

Joel: “Omigod, the wrong prayers you’ve been saying all this while!”

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Witter and Joel goes downstairs. Joel had just shown Witter a few of the songs he wrote. Downstairs, they came accross Joel’s Mum.

Joel: “You see, I show him my songs and he said it was ok. At least he took the effort to listen! But you leh, you not interested at all!”

Mum: “Of course lah, I show him my law stuff he also will be interested what (Witter’s a law student) but you also wont lah!”

Seriously, this is why Joel doesn’t like lawyers. They exploit the sacrosanct application of Words.

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Joel shoves his cooking at his maid.

Joel: “Makan!”

Maid: “Tak mau!”

Joel: “Makan!”

Maid: “Tak mau lah!”

Joel: “Makan lah kak! Cuba tengok.”

Maid: “Tak mau! Awak lah yang cuba!”

Joel: “Makan lah… kak…”

Maid: “Macam muntah lah! Tak mau!”

*     *      *      *     *     *     *     *     *     *

 Joel’s currently…

Reading “The Economic Naturalist”

Watching “The Sopranos”

In love with the film “Frost/Nixon”

Listening to Damien Rice’s “The Blower’s Daughter”

Missing his baby Eva 

And wanting to *ahem* his most beloved girlfriend, Xiao.

Dear, I meant ‘hug, kiss, and shower with love.’ =x

Ate at “Canai Cafe” – Felt weak after a while – Went back to rest – woke up in the midle’ of em night with a high fever – Dialed Emergency X.9.I.1.A.1.O – Subang Jaya Medical Center – Doc prescribed some chems – Got back home, got more sleep – Fever fled but them stomachs’ still got em squinch – Rested more – Much more – But it got worst – Vomited after every meal – Dialed Emergency X.9.I.1.A.1.O – Subang Jaya Medical Center – Xiao gave some love – Doc gave shit con-job chems – I got really agitated – Rested even MORE – Them stomachs still acting really weird – Fireflighted back to me hometown, Kuala Terengganu, waiting for Tomorrow’s body check-ups and what not!

You see… I really hate being sick. Yet ironically, when Infirmity knocks, he’d always come with a throng; a fucking chain of weird mysterious ‘Doc says: “Everything seems fine.” and yet I feel fucking Sick’ sorta Disease! To be sick, to be weak, it’s not just inconvenience, it’s a bloody nuisance! Fiends that baffle our common Sight; demons that stride by air, pace ‘tween them spaces – Erudites call them ‘Viruses’ – Grandma had a different name for it – but what difference does it make, call them ‘Terrorists of Nature’ or ‘Satan’s lil Hooligans’, things that in their simplicity, leaves nothing but destruction upon every thread – they’d breeze you through but with the might of a tempest, swirls and spins all limbs in opposing directions till you tear and bleed and your wealth is drenched; the vestiges of your strength made null. Clutter in that useless sack of flesh and bones, you’d feel the passing of Time and Life but ne’er living it. Them chems fucks you up turtle so that the ticking of the clock would be erratically balanced. The Mind and Body fails to come to a rapport of coherent understanding and you can’t help but wonder where the Spirit’s dwindled to. The onerous will to get up and leave the bed plunges gradually, until it gathers enough speed and accelerates down into the abyss of “Wills never met” – you find yourself desperately generating a ‘Newer’ will to fish out that ‘Not-so-New’ will, but unfortunately yet seemingly expected, it snowballs likewise. The atmosphere thickens with a heavy smell of insipidity. You close your eyes and try to assign those hopes of Liveliness to another plane, perhaps the plane of dreams – Wild Dreams, something exhilarating, something that’d knock head off the dread and entertain you till the pain ceases to severe, yeah,  you hope that. But it never comes. Instead, you get the Foul Fiend’s third person perspective point of view, looking down into that room, and that small insignificant object: You. An alien You that your mind simply refuses to register. A You that’s helplessly unable to move, unable to be fruitful, unable to be productive….    

All because you’re fucking SICK!

Sigh… I really don’t appreciate Nature’s way of always getting me in on em sickbed. It’s not like I don’t take care of meself… It’s as if I simply HAVE to fall sick in order to satisfy some sick malevolent wish of God knows what/who. A day before I got sick, I was at em lake all by myself in the middle of the night, thinking through life and the lessons worth learning. Mum asked me if I saw anything, if by chance ‘something’ followed me back. Now and then when I think of it, more than the creeps it brings me is this deep rage that sincerely wants to beat the shit out of it (if ever this ‘something’ can be quantified) for all the distress and aggravation its wrought simple-mindedly and single-handedly brought.