Eggs

I just woke up. Its 10:09am.

I'm frying two eggs for lunch. Sunny-side up, as some people may call it, or just bullseye, though it does not look anything similar. And I'm going to eat it with bread, but there's a topping I want to add to it.

But I'm also hesitant. The topping is cheese. 620gms of Colby cheese rest in the second lowest rack in the refrigerator. And I'm afraid to reach for the cheese...and use it. It is like a holy item, that can only be used in the most dire of times.

The packet tells me it's ideal for grilling, but there is no grilling in plain sight. It says it is smooth and creamy, but even as it rests in the palm of my hand, I can feel its tangible texture, cooling my fingers.

I want to use the cheese, but I'm afraid. It's like tapping into a source that I'm unsure of, even if I've seen the outcome a million times before. I tell it like it is, for though I love it, it still frightens me, and I lay awake at night thinking of my next move. Warriors will tell you the same thing, in the calm before the battle, or a husband before his night of consummation. They welcome the danger, the expected thrill, the outcome. It is fear, not of the unknown, because they know what lies ahead, but even then, the consequences are unpredictable.

Like the Liverpool - AC Milan match. Arrrgggghhh! The pain, the humiliation, the injustice, the agony of being the best but yet not really...nevermind.

I must cut the cheese, before it cuts my spirit.

At The Ruai

There's nothing like getting to know about new places early. I was driving pass a row of old shophouse near Havana one fine evening when I saw a familiar face sitting next to the open main window of this new establishment. I looked at the humble signage outside and it read 'Ruai Kitai'. I was, admittedly, in the mood for a beer, so I parked and walked in. I was greeted with a glass of 'tuak' and yet another glass of 'langkau'. I knew I was going to be a happy man.

Still, there was something about it that charmed me...maybe the abundance of antiques and works of art on the walls or maybe it was the cheap beer. Or it could be the smell of burning pig face on the barbie outside or maybe just the buzz from drinking on an empty stomach. I decided right there and then that this was to be my place, and I it's champion.

The owner, Peter, is a colourful character. A former civil servant, DJ, singer, antique collector, politician and now a pub owner and chef. Definitely a Rubik cube kind. A person with many facets. So he is handy and creative. He has a good eye for design too. All of that explains why most of his furniture's has been repurposed into something practical to suit a pub setting. The old Singer sewing machine stand now serves as a table footing. And the most interesting thing about the place is that almost everything you see are for sale. Even the chairs. There was an old gramophone that sold for a grand and a half.

Most of the items in here still works. I bought an old lamp last week and this one now hangs proudly at my crib. I got this for MYR120.00 which I thought was a steal considering the fact that the glass cylinder is the most difficult to find. There are many of these lying in longhouses or even back at my village but most are without the very important glass cylinder. Which does not make a complete 'lampu rusa' as it is referred to.

Here's another item of interest you will find on the display shelf. This here is an opium smoking apparatus which was abundant among the Chinese folks who came on the slow boat many years ago. Now, only a few exists. Peter has two and he isn't selling just yet he said. In its original form, it was brackish and dirty but Peter did the most ridiculous thing and polished it.

A bit of Shag Pohon Sagu and a little water introduced into the case afterwards and it worked perfectly. No leaks, no problem and mine soon.

I brought some of my crew down to the place on a few occasion and some liked it while some thought it needed air conditioning. While the rest of the boys may continue to stay at their current drinking place, I would like to claim a seat at the unpretentious short bar over at Ruai Kitai as my new annex.

I present the following justification for this move :-

Proximity: Ruai Kitai is near my salt mine and its about 25 paces from Havana.

Productivity: I can consume an estimated three Tiger an hour, swinging me into a frenzy of uninterrupted work of the conversing kind.

Inspiration: With some beautiful, traditional artwork on the walls, all I need to find inspiration for my own creative work is pull my head up from the beer mug and look around. There's an infusion of creativity here.

Aesthetics: I demand that I have aesthetically pleasing surroundings in a pub because I'm a serious drinker. Everything about Ruai Kitai is easy on the eye, from the aforementioned artwork, to the lovely repurposed furniture, to the nice presentation of the local food.

But really, if the MYR20.00 for a jug of beer doesn't attract you then I don't know what else will. Oh, did I also mention the barbecued pork innards was...schweeeeeeeettttttnessss.

Crush

Havana is a relatively quiet place to unwind. The kind of place where you'd like to be after meaningless hours slaving for the monolith monsters down at the salt mine. I like it here...especially for its low key aura and low pitched music. On certain days and some nights, me, myself and I could be the only person at the bar. Which is just the way I like it. My kanid Kelvin comes in sometimes and just like me, he likes it quiet.

You must forgive the folks at Havana for their taste of what is real good music but this is compensated by their ever ready super cold beer mugs. Now, if its not for the peaceful and quiet ambiance, the real attraction here is its near sub zero freezing beer glass. And I kid you not. Buddies from up north never fails to visit just to have a good cold one (in the very real sense of the word) whenever they're here.

However, Havana's peace and quiet was somewhat irked due to the patronage of a few beautiful women a few nights ago, of the kanid kind...and this was with a little help of something herbal courtesy of none other than a very beautiful woman. Thank you, Mon Cherie for remembering the needs of your fellow man, in the person of me. Nice tan there, welcome back and you're beautiful as ever.

This is a lovely woman. When I was 13, I had a huge crush the size of the Arctic shelves on her. Yeahhhhhh...it was that huge. And I'm proud to announce here that she was my very, very, very 'FK'. Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhh...I still can taste her on my lips every time I think of that lazy Saturday afternoon. I don't know if she realised then that I was madly infatuated with her but nevermind if she didn't. I was just too preoccupied admiring the woman that damn if she felt the same way. I remember a year afterwards, when she told me she was leaving for Australia, I was devastated. But we wrote each other and I keep those letters still. The sentimental fool I am.

Here's to you Grace...and thank you for those few miserable hours of the days that I missed you like crazy. And so this is for you...

Alluring...

This essence is,

Genuinely perceived,

It is on your lips, in your smile, eyes and soul...

Wear A Cap

I have a white cap. Its the only one I have now and it has been with me for the last 8 years. A good female companion was in Canada and got me the cap because she thought of me. Very nice of her.

I use it everywhere. In fact, I have it on right now. I wear it to the pub, to the office and every other place. I even had sex with it on once. I was standing.

I love caps. White ones especially. I don't remember not having one. It is, in my humble opinion, fashionable and gives me a kind of idiosyncrasy. I feel good and I look good in caps.

The point here is a few days ago, one of the office ladies made a comment about my constant appearance with the innocent looking cap. I didn't know until then, I was a misfit. She said I was too old to have it flipped backwards and it wasn't in fashion anymore. Of course I didn't know this but was wearing caps ever a fashion thing to start with? I thought it was a necessity to have one on. Like on a hot day, one would instinctively put something over ones head. A cap for instance. To, obviously protect ones head from the heat. While at night a cap is put on to...I don't know but I just like having my white cap on on a drinking night out. It's just nice to have one on while sitting at the bar having a beer or six.

So to this lady staff of mine, I begged if she forgave the symbology tangent but asked if she reckoned her seeing me in this innocuous, if prehistoric fashion item as a representation of my unwillingness to grow.

She thought for a moment and replied in the affirmative.

I've been traumatised since.