Tag Archives: coffee

For little H, the long-fingered one.

First day Raya: no more sneak-smoking and playing hide and seek with the cleaning ladies at school. Back to afternoon coffee and something resembling an output of creativity hence this entry after a loooong hiatus. Happy Raya suckers!

With Ish now at a coffee joint. Damn this latte is good given the conditions within it is consumed: in broad daylight. After one-handed eating whilst driving all throughout September, I need to readjust to normal meal configurations ie. table, chair, cutlery and the absolute absence of shame and guilt.

____________________________

I was with P at the hospital, in front of the delivery hall, staring at a set of decorative lighting blinking in primary colours for a good 8 hours or so. Waiting for the nurses to call him in to witness the birth of his first-born daughter. As calm as he looked, I knew P was scared shitless. The same kind of fear and anxiety I had experienced during A’s time delivering our S.

The relief on his face after the baby was delivered. A speechless moment after announcing to me (on the floor, against the wall, reading last year’s GQ) that the baby’s born and his wife is being stitched up. The weary eyes and the knees giving-in as he sank down and joined me on the floor. Brothers sharing a quiet moment of joy and thanks.

H: welcome to the family. It ain’t the best of families but it surely ain’t the worse either. Buckle up for the ride.

Addendum: As of 20th August 2008, Kuburan Dakwat is 2 years old. Happy Anniversary!

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Dogs don’t speak.

It was 7.20 when I signed in for work this morning, inhaling soap and foundation powder while queuing-up to leave my signature at the office counter. The long-dormant espresso machine is up and running again at home, explaining my overworking sensory acuteness. I can smell the car air-freshener residue on the GPK’s tudung from 10 feet away. Jesus.

No formal assembly today since most classes are having exams. My first class was at 8.20 with 1 AF. Not Akademi Fantasia but Al-farabi the towelhead scientist. It was an arts class so i chucked Wallace and Gromit: the Curse of the Were Rabbit into the DVD player in the library’s audio-video room and asked them to draw a character of their choice. No surprises when all but two drew Gromit the silent dog.

The school’s internet connection is down again. It took three different agencies at least to get it up and running so probably the administration is yet to decide who to call to come and tinker with the server so that it will stop running again later. So I’m on M*xis Broadband. Slow as shit because you’d struggle to even have clear reception on your cellphone in these neck of the woods. Well at least I’m online.

Had a hell of a weekend that officially started with the dusting and assembly of my espresso machine (last cup made approximately 2 years ago in the Jalan Teluk Sisek floodbait of a house). Got the coffee and milk while shoe-hunting with A and S and made the first batch for me, A and Kom who’s recovering from a bad break-up. I’m sure he felt better after that cup of mean excelsior I made. Coffee is way better than a bad VJ with bad hair anyday. Inside joke there. Haha.

Then off to a session with Ralat. At the studio in Terminal Makmur. Great name for a dumpsite huh? It’s supposed to be some sort of shopping arcade but the only floor (out of 3) occupied is the ground floor. Five or six ‘internet cafes’ and the studio amidst cigarette butts, rubbish and the stench of urine. The studio was ok I guess for twenty-five bucks an hour. We’d rehearsed there before but it was a shitty session last Saturday because the PA kept bonking out mid-song. Ledge’s vocals were blips and pieces that sounded like bad avant-garde noise-rock. It transpired to me that the electrical circuits in that god-forsaken piece of real estate is overloaded since all the power is sucked up by all the mysp*ce pages viewed in the internet cafes. So Abang Misai 78 and Gingercat were smiling in their profile mugs while we were playing fucking instrumentals.

Slept the whole day Sunday. Woke up at seven in the evening, went to Heritage with A, Ya, Chala, Kom and S for an impromptu mother’s day dinner. Had a chicken ala king with three mugs of guinness and went home to sleep smiling. Sweet.

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Labour Day Afternoon

Well here I am on labour day, at a coffee joint, having coffee and smoking at this new mall.

I’m actually having a day off. You know, to commemorate the ‘annual holiday celebrated all over the world that resulted from efforts of the labour union movement, to celebrate the economic and social achievements of workers‘ (from Wikipedia).

But there are at least a few hundred people working today, here. Like that guy at the coffee bar, in a yellow tshirt, making coffee. Or the security girl at the entrance of the embedded french retail outlet, wrapping-up my laptop case in plastic so I won’t shoplift.

I wonder if they get extra pay for working today. They’d better ask for it. Cause fuck me, I’d rather sit here and contemplate my economic and social achievements. And coincidently (this just crossed my coffee-addled brain), today’s also supposed to be the 13th(?) anniversary with an ex-girlfriend. Well she’s probably somewhere examining her achievements.

Found her on facebook chat the other day but we had to cut the conversation short. Because hubby is having a conference call and using-up a lot of bandwith. Yup.

We didn’t need bandwith back then. On top of Eiffel Tower, looking at the symmetry of the streets of Paris and celebrating her birthday. Mine was a couple of days later (Eurodisney). Had a long soak in the bath at some seedy bed-n-breakfast, both of us tired of fucking croissants. And probably of each other.

Oh well. Happy Labour Day. To Pmengandung, don’t actually get into labour just yet will ya?

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Excuse for not voting no. 339.

        Stuck at bloody Starbuck’s with no connection. One of the staff just told me the system’s slow because they’re using the net too. Doing what? Downloading Bare Barristas 3?
        Serves me right for procrastinating. You see I’m typing this offline when I’m supposed to be reading up for this test I have on Tuesday. I’m applying for another job. Totally different carrer path but that’s another story altogether. A lot to be done if I’m actually going to ace this test but what have I been doing? Watching Gossip Girl. Yup. Shameful. For more than one reason. And A’s been laughing at me for going all giggly watching spoilt New York brats going all giggly. Heh.
        I’m all fueled up on a grande latte and fidgeting. Yeah I’m nervous about the test. If I go through this initial stage then I’m through to the interviews. All three of them, I’m informed. My potential future boss is apparently this highly idealistic, God-fearing former journalist. He has interviewed quite a handful for the post I’m aiming for and what do I say to him? That I’m leaving my teaching job after 7 years of feeling under-utilised and unfulfilled? Must I be honest about my irreverence to all authority and my tendency to STILL get bouts of existential angst at my, ehem, advanced age? Lemme make a mental note to myself: cross that bridge when you come to it, bitch.
        Aha we’re online. They’ve bridged the connection at last. I’m apparently that good at crossing bridges. Still fidgeting though. Have a great weekend people.

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