We have moved!

As today is our blog's 2nd Birthday, I've decided to take the opportunity to move on this auspicious occasion. We can now be found HERE :) Please update your links and bookmarks. Sorry for the inconvenience. Take care, everyone! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE CYANIDE-JEL FACTOR!

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/21/2005 05:28:00 PM
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Never too late!

What happened this morning (SMSes)... CN- : Eh... it's our factorz bday today! Jel : Really?Are u sure? CN- : Yr 1st post is 2day's date la..How?celeb?hehe Jel : Haha.so its 2 years old.cool :D CN- gave Jel a missed call. (a miss call signifies OK in CN/Jel language) So... HAPPY 2nd BIRTHDAY, dear blog!! *stroke blog* (Gerard's style) We're so sorry we forgot about your birthday. :( But hey... better late than never eh? In fact, we're on the dot, we're not late! Haha... and see what we've got here - some champagne, a grand looking cake from Baskin Robbins, a bunch of pink roses (hey, Jel.. factorz is a male or female??) and loads of cool CDs. Well, Jel and I love CDs so I figured you'd love them too. There are tonnes of party food out there for our readers as well. See, they're all here with funky caps looking cuter than ever and they can't wait to sing you the birthday song and blow the candles! Aren't you a celebrity now? *blog still sulking* Err... *CN- nudges Jel* Hey Jel... what now? She/He's still sulking... Hmm... *puts on thinking cap* We're sorry, we don't mean to hurt you. Comon, give us a smile! No matter what, dear bloggie... WE LOVE YOU!!! *bear hugz* *all three smile* ... and live blog happily forever after. P/S: Hehe, yeah we're 2 this year. Thanx for being there as always :) Don't worry.. more crap to come :p

# scribbled by cyAnide at 8/21/2005 12:39:00 PM
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The unknown limits of patience

My parents - apart from bringing me into this world, feed me, clothe me, educate me and play their parenting roles the best they can for some gruelling 23 years (and more to come), they teach me an unspoken lesson over and over again, sometimes without even realising it. They taught me patience and they still do. Patience... a value so difficult to grasp that sometimes it baffles me how one can acquire it at all. Put both Mom and Dad together and I'll say Dad is the SUPERMOST PATIENT one. In my school days, sometimes I had to stay back for a while to finish up some last minute unexpected extra-curricular work or run never-ending errands for the teachers. Dad is the one father who will wait for me patiently outside the school gate for up to 1 hour without having his face colour changed from pink to soot black or his vocal cords hollering at me when I finally turned up. Unlike Dad, my friends' fathers would give them a trashing down or left the school compound in a huff. Thankfully for Dad too, some of my friends whose fathers were too busy to wait for their daughters would get a hitch back home in our car. While waiting for me, Dad'd have his car parked near a shady spot while he'd either snooze off comfortably in the driver seat with the windows rolled down or scrutinize almost every article in The Star with a ciggie between his lips. When I was done, I never had to run to the gates fearing that he's gone. He was never mad at me. He would never scold me. He wouldn't mind. Even if he was in a hurry himself, he'd simply say, "Come on, let's go. I'm late for work." More than half the time I didn't have to explain myself though I did have good reasons for being late. Somehow he need none of that. That's Dad. Odd but true, Dad operates his life at an amazingly slow pace. He is NEVER in a hurry even when he's late. And that annoys Mom a lot. He'd still take his own sweet time preparing himself with Mom constantly urging and screaming at him that we are late for dinner or something. I really wonder if he has some special skills to selectively pick up things that are pleasant to his ears and shut away those that will boil his blood. Sometimes, Mom switches strategy and tries to evoke a sense of guilt in him for making us wait for a good 10 minutes. But none of that ever work. Dad will still move at the speed of a snail and say ever so serenely, "Why are you in such a hurry, Dear?" Then Mom snapped at him again. It's a regular scene at home. At first I would be as mad as Mom, and then I finally learned that Dad was, is and will be like this forever. One slow man. One man who can take in all of Mom naggings, grumblings, complaints all at once without even breaking his patience limit and exploding. Everytime I check, Mom is the punctured one by the end of everything and Dad still has every strand of his hair neatly in place. However, soon they will be on talking terms again - like nothing ever happened. Truthfully, I cannot stand that. And I'm amazed how this couple - my parents, can stand each other for 24 freaking years! When I was young, the three of us often make trips to KL during the holidays in Dad's old, weathered Volkswagen. Back then, I would sit on a little seat fashioned in between the two front seats and enjoy the gentle breeze from a tiny fan attached to the dashboard. After some time I'd sleep in my mother's lap and then to wake up again to sit on my little seat. I'd just keep on repeating these two steps for a few rounds throughout the journey that seemed to take forever. As I grew a little older - old enough to appreciate time and how clocks and watches work, I learned that a Muar-KL journey on highways takes about 5 hours. But I began to grow confused when I was 7 years old and found out from my school friends that their families take an average 3 hours from Muar to KL. By the age of 12, I finally had an answer. Yeah, we take 5 hours to reach KL. Simply because Dad drives like an injured snail. Cars, trucks, buses - any vehicle that you can think of overtakes us. And the journey stretches on if Dad decides to rest in the resting areas. And "to rest" does not mean taking a leak at the public toilets, sipping some cold soda and then resume the journey. It really mean RESTING in every sense of the word. Dad might take a short nap, a meal, anything! When I grew older and more impatient I began to take over Mom's role and start complaining. He'd respond to each of my tantrums calmly, "Why are you in such a hurry? We'll reach there no matter what." Yeah Dad, I know we'll reach. We have to. But it's way too slow for me, Dad. I need speed! Dad retired from the government office many years ago and since he is not the type of old man who would enjoy rotting away at home, he took up a couple of odd jobs through the years. Recently he had a new job which had me dumbfounded for a good 1 minute when I first heard the news. Dad is now a truck driver transporting medical masks to and fro Muar and Klang Valley. He easily got himself a driving license for small lorries and then he was on his way. He had made several trips and his employer loves him because Dad knows his way around the West Coast very well. And he helps cut down travelling costs. How? Well, Dad hates the highway. He says it makes him sleepy and everyone seems to be rushing to hell, probably mistaken it for heaven. So he takes on the old, winding roads through cities, towns and kampungs. That means he does not have to pay for the usual highway tolls, much to his emloyer's delight. He also avoids being trapped in traffic jams on the highways during peak seasons or road accidents. His speed meter runs at a constant rate all the time, albeit rather slow. And he entertains himself by overtaking vehicles that are way slower than him on those single-laned roads. Knowing my Dad's speed, these vehicles are probably large, heavily loaded lorries or trailers which are forced to go slow. Yesterday, Dad came up to Klang to send some goods. Mom came along too. They picked me up from the hostel and we set off from PJ back to Muar after dinner time. I thought we'd reach in about 4 hours. But guess what... we took about 6 to 7 hours. My face changed colour several times like a chameleon. I refused to speak. I sighed a thousand times. I could recite every single radio commercial in Dad's favourite radio station, Light and Easy (as you might have guessed it right). I ate very little because I didn't want to give them more reasons to stop by the roadside shops. But still, we stopped several times for a nap, snacks, toilet, etc. And my butt became as flat as pancake, as numb as a gangrenous diabetic foot by the end of everything. I was practically fuming with rage, all ready to burst and lose my mind but Mom and Dad were still doing it slowly and chatting away like old friends. I knew Dad worked round the clock yesterday and he really needed rest, a less stressful speed and a lot of understanding from my side. Morever, age is catching up with him. I'm aware of that. But I just couldn't stand being squeezed in the front seats (3 of us sat together in front) bumping along those long, isolated roads for a total of 7 hours! By the end of it all, all 3 of us were exhausted. Mom and I swore never to travel in Dad's truck EVER AGAIN. Mom even announced to Dad, "Chop me into pieces and I'd still refuse to sit in your truck again". And she said that with chuckles and winks so you know she was not as dead serious as me. Haha... it sounds funny now, but believe me it was nowhere near funny last night. Dad simply smiled, unloaded our baggage and then headed straight to bed. He was dog tired and it was amazing how he managed that amount of hard work in a single day. Dad, I'm sorry that I reacted badly over something not entirely within your control knowing that you had a long day's work and that your work is no easy task, especially for someone of your age who is supposed to be listening to Elvis Presley and dozing off on the rocking chair. As much as I wish Dad is a little bit more faster than he is, I thank God for the importance of patience that he continues to show and prove to me in his everyday life. I'm still learning how to be as patient as Dad in work and relationships. But don't worry, I'd not copy every single trait from Dad especially like travelling for long hours or avoiding using the highway. As much as I love to be patient, I'd not trade a Bunny for a Tortoise :p xoxoxo Dad ;)

# scribbled by cyAnide at 8/21/2005 01:31:00 AM
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Room 407, Part 4 (End)

Here's the conclusion of the short story... I had worked on the case for two weeks and was sitting in the Heathrow Airport, anxiously awaiting my flight to return to Haley’s side. The plane had just touched down less than a minute when my cellphone rang. "Hello?" I picked up. "Ray! Thank God you picked up! You have to get to the hospital, quick! Room 407! Haley’s failing!" came the near-hysterical voice of Haley’s younger sister, Ariel. I felt my heart thumping against my chest as I sprinted across the airport and jumped into a taxi. I told the driver to drive as fast as he could to the hospital. If he got a speeding ticket, I would pay for it. Even that proved impossible, due to heavy traffic. After what seemed like ages, I still had not reached. Fed up, I ran the rest of the way to the hospital. Ariel had called me several times, hurrying me. I finally reached the hospital and ran as fast as I could to room 407. I saw Ariel standing at the door, her eyes filled with tears. "I’m sorry, Ray. You should have come earlier. Haley just died a few minutes ago." Ariel whispered softly. I fingered the same number I had fingered five years ago. 407. I felt tears overwhelming me and my whole body shook as I slumped down against the door. I was late. Again.

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/20/2005 03:30:00 PM
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Hazzze...

In my previous post, I thought the haze was at its max then. I was at PJ when the 'haze emergency' was declared. When I went back to Klang later at night, my room was smelling like someone had just had a barbaque party there! I packed all my neccessities and left the area for clearer airs at SJ. Finally, I can breathe at about 16 breaths per minute. This morning the air looked pretty good. Even though the haze is still there, after 3 days of looking at a post-atomic-bomb atmosphere, the sky definitely appears to be relatively clearer compared to previously. I almost forgot how beautiful the rays of sunlight looked. (Ok, that's a bit exaggerated). I hope that they will quickly put out the fires in Indonesia. To think that the burning was intended (to clear the land). How simply atrocious! In fact, there were 991 fires in Sumatera as reported last night. Anyway, let's keep praying for rain...

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/12/2005 04:31:00 PM
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Room 407, Part 3

Here is the third part of the story... What I saw nearly gave me a heart attack. Haley was diagnosed with leukaemia! I dropped the test results to the floor and stood up. I stared at her, my mouth wide open. Memories of my mother flooded me and as I looked at Haley, I saw my mother. Worse yet, I saw death. In an attempt to comfort her and myself, I sat on her bed and hugged her as she cried on my shoulder. After she stopped crying, we discussed the matter. Haley suggested we break up in order for me to find another girl but I refused. No way was I going to leave her at the point when she needed me most. We decided to just leave things be and see where this road of life would carry us to. Life went on quite normally for the next five months. At least, that was what I strived to believe. In truth, it was hard. Haley had to undergo treatment and all I could do was support her in any way possible. One sunny morning, I sat in my office, thinking. Memories of my mother engulfed me, throwing me into some sort of time machine, reliving my past as a nineteen-year-old boy. I smiled to myself. I was rudely startled by the loud and urgent knock on my door. My secretary hurried in. “Mr Lam?” She looked at me worriedly, as my eyes were a little watery. I dismissed her worried look and took the letter she so urgently brought in. I was summoned to go to England for two weeks to join Zachary who had gone there a week ago to work on an international case. My first thoughts were that I absolutely did not want to go and leave Haley behind but I was left with little choice. Micah had a very tight schedule lined up ahead of him while I did not. Refusing this case would jeopardize my firm’s reputation. Besides that, Haley had assured me a million times that she would wait for me to come back. And so, I went against my wishes. To be continued...

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/12/2005 02:22:00 PM
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API in Klang

Pelabuhan Kelang, SELANGOR - 529* Petaling Jaya, SELANGOR - 349* Country Heights, Kajang, SELANGOR - 189* Shah Alam, SELANGOR - 371* Kuala Selangor, SELANGOR - 531* Kuala Lumpur, W.PERSEKUTUAN - 321* Putrajaya, W.PERSEKUTUAN - 364* 0-50 Baik / Good 51-100 Sederhana / Moderate 101-200 Tidak Sihat / Unhealthy 201-300 Sangat Tidak Sihat / Very Unhealthy >301 Berbahaya / Hazardous *Ack* *Cough* *Choke* *Sneeze* *Wheeze*

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/11/2005 11:16:00 AM
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I Need Fresh Air

The haze has finally hit its worse today. To think that I thought that yesterday was bad. Today, I can barely breathe without being in respiratory distress! My eyes water, my nose is runny and my throat feels so crap. Yeah, I know I sound whiny but this is a fact. The air here in Klang is just so damn polluted. I heard the Air Pollution Index (API) here has reached over 400! Oh why won't it just rain... :( The smog has infiltrated my room, even though all my windows have been closed since yesterday. The feeling is like being trapped in a room in a burning building, with smoke seeping in from under the door. In fact, I'm actually feeling quite light headed, due to the lack of oxygen. How suffocating. I now trully appreciate the importance of fresh air. How I trully sympathize with the patients who have chest tightness, who constantly feel breathless, who always complain of "semput". I am so "semput" now. I am even tired of consciously breathing and trying not to hyperventilate. Please God, please let it rain now...

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/10/2005 09:07:00 PM
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Why Malaysian Government insists on using English...

Found this in my inbox... Why Malaysian Government insists on using English for math and science? This is because the whole world uses the language as an information and/or technology language. How dangerous it will be if we try to use Bahasa, especially in school. See example below. Hardware = barang keras Software = barang lembut Joystick = batang gembira Plug and play = cucuk dan main Port = lubang Server = pelayan Client = pelanggan Try to translate this: ENGLISH : That server gives a plug and play service to the clients using either hardware or software joystick. The joystick goes into the port of the client. Now in BAHASA: Pelayan itu memberi pelanggannya layanan cucuk dan main dengan menggunakan batang gembira jenis keras atau lembut. Batang gembira itu dimasukkan ke dalam lubang pelanggan. Now You Know.......why....

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/06/2005 04:25:00 PM
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Room 407, Part 2

This is the next installment of the short story written by my lil' sis, Splash. Walking into my office, I was greeted with a pleasant surprise in the shape of my firm partners, Micah Tong and Zachary Tyler. Zachary was sitting in my chair, facing the window and standing beside him was Micah. They both turned around to face me. It was really rare that for once, all three of us were free at the same time. We didn’t have clients to rush to. We took the opportunity to discuss work and life. Soon afterward, the conversation had to be put to an end as I needed to be at court at 11.30 am. I reached the court at 11.20am and patiently waited for my client. My client was a single mother whose divorced husband had conveniently deprived her of her monthly alimony for more than six months. The case went smoothly and by 1pm, I was back at the firm, to take Haley out for lunch. Surprisingly, I couldn’t find her. I asked her friends and colleagues but apparently, no one had any idea where she was. Finally, a cleaning lady told me that Haley had left at noon, after receiving a phone call. I was beginning to get really worried especially after Micah informed me that Haley asked to have the rest of the day off. I tried calling her cellphone and even her house phone, but I couldn’t reach her. Frustrated, I left the office and drove to her house. Upon reaching her house, I saw her red Fiat parked in the driveway, signalling she was home. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I tried again. No answer. I began pounding on the front door, yelling, “Open up, Hales! I know you’re in there!” After more efforts of pounding and shouting, Haley gave up and finally pulled open her front door. She avoided eye contact with me. She just trudged back to her room and sat on her bed, hugging the teddy bear I once gave her. Puzzled, I tried to ask her what was wrong but to no avail. I sat on the floor, cross-legged and facing her. After a few minutes in silence, she bent over her bed, picked up a sheet of paper and slowly handed it to me. To be continued...

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 8/06/2005 04:05:00 PM
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Room 407, Part 1

This is the first installment of a short story written by my lil' sis, Splash. “I’m sorry, Ray. You should have come earlier. Mum just died two minutes ago.” My sister whispered softly to me. I was standing in the hallways of the General Hospital, outside my mother’s hospital room. 407. I fingered the number. Two minutes?? Two?? Argh!! What sort of idiot misses seeing his own mother for the last time by two minutes? Why, oh why did I have to be late? I felt so stupid. I punched the wall beside the door with all my might. I heard the distinctive sound of my knuckles cracking. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I was late. My mother had been diagnosed with leukaemia four months ago and I, Rayford Lam, her eldest son couldn’t even arrive in time to say goodbye. I felt my head spin. I couldn’t take it. I crouched down at the door of my mother’s hospital room and cried. Tears streaked down my face as I looked back on happy memories with my mother. Five years later, I had grown up to become the fine man my mum always hoped I would be. A lawyer, sharing a law firm with two other friends, I believed she was proud of me. I was 25, successful and had a wonderful girlfriend. Her name was Haley. Haley Yeung. She was one of the secretaries at the firm. She was not only extremely beautiful, but also smart, diligent and had a great sense of humour. Even thinking of her could serve to make me smile. I checked my appearance in the mirror. Suit, check. Hair, check. Overall, perfect. I adjusted my collar and tie and did finishing touches to my hair. Satisfied, I then grabbed my briefcase and headed out the door. I flung my briefcase in the back seat, like I did everyday, and hopped into my silver convertible. I revved the engine and hit the gas. I was ready to go. 8.20am. I arrived ten minutes early at my office building. Since that fateful day of my mother’s death, I vowed never to be late for anything and if possible, early. I walked towards the elevator, greeting people as I went along. Stepping into the elevator, I hit the button for the 13th floor, where my spacious office was located. The doors of the elevator were about to close shut when a file found its way through, causing the doors to pop open once again. I grinned as there stood Haley. Beautiful as always. I helped her carry her things to the 10th floor before heading up to my office. To be continued...

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 7/30/2005 05:49:00 PM
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Oh crap...

Your Career Type: Artistic

You are expressive, original, and independent. Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art. You would make an excellent: Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer Dancer - DJ - Graphic Designer Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.

Oh no...it doesn't mention doctor, does it?

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 7/30/2005 04:11:00 PM
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The New Batch...

The new batch of med students who entered UM this year are getting more and more fortunate. The so-called ragging orientation has been so toned down and shortened, that they only lived miserable lives for about 3 weeks. 3 years back, our sufferings lasted 2 whole months! This ragging orientation thingy, as much as this SOMEBODY tries to get rid of it once and for all, will always be there. This is because the perpetual cycle of 'they did it to me once, and I'll get to do it 4 more times' will always remain. No amount of threatening, CCTV monitoring is gonna help. It will just draw the whole process 'underground', and that is where the danger lies. In fact, the more this SOMEBODY tries to 'protect' the freshies, the bloodthirsty seniors get all the more angry and fed up. Thus, this SOMEBODY is actually doing more damage than good. What is done in the open, is usually less horrible than what is done in secret. By banning all these and threatening seniors left and right, room orientation will prevail, and I would cease to comment about that. I would say that I am neither pro or anti-orientation. There is a place for it, but in moderation. It can be seen as a mean by which both seniors and juniors are somewhat forced spurred to get to know each other. Without it, only the rare few will make the effort to approach strangers to get to know them. Maybe I'm getting old, but I'm starting to lose interest in getting to know the juniors. Maybe because I'm not one of those who play, scold and make a fool of them. It actually makes me mentally fatigued trying to make conversation which a whole bunch of juniors who are just interested in getting your signature for the sake of fulfilling their 'assignment'. However, I must say that there were a few who were pretty entertaining as well as those who shared my interest in music, manga and anime. Those were the ones who made my day ;) However, I noted something disturbing. Out of the 70 plus CHINESE freshies, only about 17 were from STPM. I am not trying to start a sensitive discussion here. It's just that matriculation and STPM cannot be compared on equal grounds as they are like apples and oranges. Two different things altogether. If this carries on, in the long run, nobody 'wise' would wanna do Form 6 anymore. Unless, as some juniors claimed, they wanted the 'challenge'. Yeah, right. As if... :P

# scribbled by j e l l i o ` at 7/30/2005 01:09:00 PM
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