N.S. Namelist and other Stuff

Location: I can’t tell you because the Government won’t let me
Mood-of-the-day: Scrambled thoughts

Recently posted in the New NST were the names of 1987-born guys and gals chosen to serve Malaysians in a torture training program. Lil’ bro was born in 1987 so both him and I checked at every state starting with the letter ‘M’ for his name (me doing it too so I could do my favourite ‘evil sister laugh’). But the odds were slim because only one in four 17-year-olds were picked (or we’ll be paying higher taxes for more facilities and maintenance).

Nope, his name wasn’t in any list. I’ve planned to check the Internet just to be sure (and to use my ‘evil sister laugh’!). Him on the other hand, looked like he was experiencing some sort of moon-walk that M’Jackson would be shamed of. I really, really want him to get into the National Service. There’s a sense of family tradition actually. Bro, sis and myself were former Outward Bound entrees and each had a quite a story made within sight of Pangkor Island.

But lil’bro’s time to pack his jungle trekking shoes and his clean underwear were postponed since Ramadan overlapped the end-of-year special. Fasting sun-up till sun-down while getting lost in a jungle doesn’t sound too appealing to a skinny kid, unless he preferred military camp. So by the time Aidilfitri passed, lil’ bro was too big for the juniors week-long program. Damn, but I made sure he wasn’t slacking his teen-days. Forced him into school’s Red Crescent Society I did, made him do noon-hour foot drills until it kills me (*sigh* missed those old school dayz...).

Now that parents are gallivanting, I’ll have to be the one that waters the plants. Our house is a semi-D, just enough pocket of dirt to do this phenomenon called ‘gardening’. Dad’s a country guy, the kind that what Dato’ Lat’s comics represent (river swimming, stilted homes, roasted grasshoppers... okay, the last one was just Dad). So he’s adding a piece of his old home in the middle of Kt. D’sara. However, long trips require a babysitter but I’m no green thumb. Was never too hard actually, just water, water, water. One plant drowned though (oopsie...).

One of my cats is into a weird phase. For some reason, Patchy does not want to do an attribute what cats are famous for; solitary. Like clockwork, he’ll pounce on anyone at the TV room and meow so loudly and continuously as if Timmy’s stuck in a well. If anyone tried to go downstairs or duck into a room to avoid the meowing in their ear, the source would tag behind closer than a shadow and go on and on mowing. It’s getting pretty annoying.

Didja people check the newspaper? Jac from Kepong won the first Malaysian Idol! Yay! Okay, to the truth, I’ve hardly been a sucker for the reality TV singing sensational show but I’m no steadfast to being frong-in-coconut-shell either. Saw the last half-an-hour. It’s great that she won, and with 3/4 advantage in her favour.

When I saw her Berjaya Times Square audition episode and she mentioned writing her own songs for marketing, I thought, yup that’s her. Now Malaysians are going to kill 8TV if she doesn’t make it through. But I liked best was when one of the 8TV directors mentioned in a newspaper that ‘someone from Kepong might go to World Idol,’ Jac’s mom said it was a sign and encouraged the night club singer to a KL trip. Signs, heck, how about that? :D I’m looking at one now and it says 12.30pm.

Signed: *Ophie, time to pick-up the NS not-so-hopeful-and-didn’t-make-it :P