One Step Away

Wish me luck!

Cause I’m Leaving

It’s time to leave my job.

7 years of driving the same treacherous road halfway up to Genting through Hulu Yam. Everyday at 6.30 am.7 years of giving it all that I can give,my time,my resources, my soul included.

I have always thought of leaving, but I was still there, am still there or here or wherever that is. I’d always say to myself, just one more year, one more year. Sometimes, I’d say, let me finish off this year, it wouldn’t be fair to leave in the midst of everything. I should have left when the first thought of leaving crossed my mind. 

There I was, facing my second in command of a boss, looking at my yearly performance  review. I think I didn’t speak for a good 10 minutes. I just sat there, staring at the piece of paper that might have been more or less the one thing that stood in the way of me ever moving up the ladder. I just sat there, willing myself not to cry in front of the boss. No. No tears.

I looked up, smiled and asked for a justification.

Second in command fidgeted around. Trying to come up with some lame excuse. The best that he could do was say “I did give you very high marks, but when push comes to shove, it all boiled down to what the Big Boss wanted.” And since Big Boss moved on to bigger and better things last May, I very well did not feel like calling him and demanding an explanation from him as well.

It wasn’t that bad. I was still in the box were my marks are considered high. But it’s not enough. It doesn’t reflect what I have contributed to the organization.

I spent the next few days wallowing in self pity, telling myself that it isn’t fair and that I did not deserve it. But it’s tiresome to be surrounded by so much negativity. It takes a toll on you.

The thing is, I have always wanted to leave. It’s time now. It was getting pretty suffocating anyway.

I have a huge mole on the underside of my right foot. People old old say that when you have a mole the size of Mauritius, you will travel far and wide.

I’m eyeing one of the Director’s seat in the United Nations. Not so soon. I’d better learn me a thing a two. I’d give it another 5-6 years perhaps. The Universe must have been collaborating with me as well. An opening at the UNHCR Malaysia. Let me start there. Resume was sent. It was also sent to a few other places as well. But I’ve got my heart set with the United Nations. It would go well with what I’ve been doing with the AYC.

And, I was headhunted. A request for my resume to be sent to the Securities Commission to be a part of their PR team. I am thrilled and flabbergasted. The Securities Commission. But that’s not my calling. Even in the midst of all the uncertainties in life, on thing that I do know for sure is that I am not cut out for the corporate world. It’s not me.

I’m terrified actually. Moving on to something new. So..dalam bulan Ramadhan yang penuh barakah ini, don’t forget to include me in your prayers.

The best is yet to come…

Ramadhan

Salam Ramadhan.

Another year has passed, another year to look forward to. A moment to reflect.  Another  moment to remember the people we love who are no longer with us and another moment to be with those around us. Another moment to be with the Almighty.

Alhamdulillah.

Have a blessed Ramadhan. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

Drumming My Fingers

There are a few things on my mind right now.

Of moles and the United Nations. Actually, no mole (s), just a mole.

But they don’t go together do they?  The mole and the United Nations.

Been thinking about the moles and the United Nations since yesterday when I was in a meeting in Bukit Kiara, and this evening, when I was staring hard at the rows of cheese in ColdStorage. It crossed my mind again, while I was walking around Ikea, seeing nothing and buying nothing.

Oh! But wait a sec, I did buy something, the hotdog and soft drink combo. I had 3 refills. A thirsty horse I am.

The words seemed to flow much easier when I was blogging in my mind.

Here I sit staring. Wordless.

Give me a few hours. Remind me, of moles and United Nations. And the Tourism Board of Malaysia too. Oh, and the Securities Commission as well.

Just a few hours. Wake me up before you go-go

I think you’re sexy…

No..tweeting is not for me. I’m not the creative one liner type. I seriously wish I am one though. I need lots and lots of lines to get my creative juices flowing. In other words, my life is not all that glamorous or exciting for me to twitter about.

Twitter; Cinta is thinking of walking to the nearest 7-Eleven and buying off their whole supply of Snickers cause it’s that time of the month, or;

Twitter; I’m getting into my car now and driving home to feed my cats.

No, that just wouldn’t do. I would hate to be the cause of death to those who actually follow me. Cause of death;extreme boredom tahap gaban. I think I’ll stick to blogging. Safer this way.

During my first year as an undergrad, I had to study Linguistics taught by a certain Dr. Wong. Very good lecturer.Petite with a soft voice. I still have nightmares about having to memorize this particular table which I can’t recall what it was all about. I hated it. I failed the paper. I had to sit for the paper again in my final year. The embarassment of having to be in class with the 1st year juniors. Sangat tak cool. I passed. Nyawa nyawa ikan. Cukup syarat untuk bergraduat sahaja.

Me, I’m the sociolinguistics gal. I adore my eccentric and quirky professor. She would come into class wearing one of those scarves with her jambul remos hanging out from her forehead. Her skirt would end a few inches above her ankle. Sama kes macam Dato Siti Nurhaliza, serupa tak payah pakai tudung. But I love her (my Prof of course), I have an A+ to prove that. The study of language in its social, cultural context is fascinating. A word might bring a totally different meaning or context to the opposite sex.

AIRFORCE.

In general, guys would be thinking fighter jets, complicated war strategies and honour.

Me? I’m thinking sexy men in their uniform.

I was at a Petronas service station earlier, idling away in the car, waiting for a colleague. I looked around, cuci mata. It was exactly the end of the Friday prayers.

There it was. The words RMAF. An RMAF truck parked a few cars away.

I didn’t see who was inside. I didn’t really care. Because you see, no matter how “pecah rumah” the men inside might look like, I would still think of them as these sexy creatures that roam the earth in their sexy uniform with the sexy pilot’s helmet and their sexy Ray-Ban...

Hot.

Just because the truck had the words RMAF stamped to its side. Grrrrr…..Gigit boleh?

I think I’ll go drive around the entrance to the RMAF base now. Perhaps catch me a pilot or two. Have a good weekend.

Gettin Jiggy with Tweety

Okay… Everybody who’s anybody is twittering away. Except for yours truly. I don’t know how to twitter.

I’m curious, therefore I created an account. I know… I’m so the stone age girl. I am what you call a late bloomer.

Now…hmmm…what am I suppose to do with this again?

Twitt! Twitt!

I’m off exploring. I can do this…no??

Say Hi for Me?

Traffic is bumper to bumper, your car is crawling ever so slowly along Jalan P. Ramlee, air conditioning at full blast, you channel surf the radio stations hoping to hear some decent songs to which you could sing along to but instead, you hear the endless chatter and ramblings of the announcers during rush hour. You look to your right, hoping perhaps to see a hot girl/guy. That would've killed some time. A wink here and there, glances between the changing lights that you never seem to be able to go through, but instead, what you see is a couple. Married. Married couples during rush hour would have this generic look, the wife would be sleeping, head tilted to the window, and husband would be staring off into space, wondering or perhaps reminiscing how his once hot wife isn't looking so hot anymore nowadays. Not that the husband is looking all that great either.

You try not to get irritated at the motorcyclists weaving in and out, you wish you could do the same. You look at the traffic light again, still red, you count to 10, and it's still red. And then you ask yourself "why do I have to drive during rush hour?" Your tummy starts to do the rumba and your throat suddenly feels parched.

Here is what I suggest you to do, but this only applies if you are driving along Jalan P. Ramlee heading towards Jalan Raja Chulan.

Turn left after the traffic light, The Weld will be on your left. Enter the parking lot, park your car, go inside and look for a place to eat. They have Bangkok Express, a little Arab restaurant, Dominoes, Mc Donalds, O'Brien's (I love their sandwiches), Delifrance and a few others to satisfy your taste palette.

Eat, drink and wait for the traffic to subside. Now, when you're about ready to brave the streets of KL again, on the 1^st floor of the Weld, near the escalator, stop at *NIGELLA GROCERS. Buy a pack of salad for tomorrow's lunch, or a bar of chocolate or a bottle of water. Buy anything.

If you see a woman in the shop, with 3 beautiful children running around her, pretty Arabella, cheeky Iskandar and cute little Arissa, stop and say hi and tell her that Cinta sends her regards.

A close friend of mine owns the place. Well, co-own actually and I call her Lyn. They opened yesterday. We go way back from our Uni days and I value her friendship ever more so after all these years.

So, if you are ever there at The Weld, stop by at NIGELLA GROCERS and tell her that I said hi.

*Nigella is the scientific name for Habbatus Sauda.

In Islam, it is regarded as one of the greatest forms of healing medicine available. Muhammad once stated that the black seed can heal every disease—except death—as recounted in the following hadith:

"

Narrated Khalid bin Sa'd:We went out and Ghalib bin Abjar was accompanying us. He fell ill on the way and when we arrived at Medina he was still sick. Ibn Abi 'Atiq came to visit him and said to us, "Treat him with black cumin. Take five or seven seeds and crush them (mix the powder with oil) and drop the resulting mixture into both nostrils, for 'Aisha has narrated to me that she heard the Prophet saying, 'This black cumin is healing for all diseases except As-Sam.' 'Aisha said, 'What is As-Sam?' He said, 'Death.' " (Bukhari)