Today I thank God that I'm not...

...Pam Anderson.

No I don't hate the woman. But today, I was able to commit a crime because I was me and not her. Today, I broke into a church.

Okay, so technically I broke into a church compound. And since I live in church, "breaking in" can't really be termed "breaking in". But lets keep a little drama going on here shall we?

So it's past midnight when my friend drops me off. I hop out of the car and try the gate. It's locked. Dead locked. Chained and padlocked by the guards. After several failed attempts to locate them, I decided to squeeze through the grill.

Please do not try this at home.

The first part of my anatomy to go through was my left leg all the way to my thigh. Then I got stuck. Seriously. Any sensible person would have pulled her thigh out of that embarrassing situation, but obviously I'm not sensible. No, I would squeeze my butt through (after a series of contortions and heaving at the metal rods), followed by the rest of my torso, my left shoulder and then my head. Oh, have I ever mentioned that...

...my head.

Is.

HUGE?

It must have swelled to twice its normal size with the sheer craziness of the mission, but all of a sudden, my head was pinned between two rusty pieces of metal. Not a pretty predicament to be caught in. Literally.

So I removed my glasses, flattened my ears and tried again. This time the head got through, followed by my limbs on the right side of my body. After waving off my friend, I walk up the hill to my apartment and scared the living daylights out of the guard.

Half asleep guard: EH? Macam mana you masuk?
How in the world did you get in?
Me: Uh, I pun tak tahu.
I also dunno.
Half asleep guard: Tak tahu?
You dunno?
Me: Um...ada lubang...
There's a hole...

Now I have nothing against the woman, but if I were Pam Anderson, I'd still be standing on the other side of that gate. Or stuck somewhere in between. Now that's something to be thankful for.

Now I know why...

Now I know why I hate cleaning hair from my comb/manhole/sink/other unmentionable areas of the bathroom. You see, picking it up isn't so much a problem. It's your own hair after all. It's when you bundle it up and toss it into the johnny when the ickyness begins.

When you do that, there is a large ball of fuzzy blackness at the bottom of the johnny bowl. Large because I've long hair, and black because I've black hair. Logic people, logic. Now if you want to waste water and deprive the poor fishies of a gallon of water, be my guest and flush the harmless fuzz ball away. But if you have a heart like me and love the fishies, refrain from flushing leave mr fuzzy there.

Just be warned that you will scare the crap out of yourself each time you enter the restroom, imagining the giant cockroach about to leap at you from the depths of the johnny bowl. And trust me, no matter how often you enter the bathroom, the fuzz ball will keep scaring the crap out of you.

Lucky for you, you are already in the bathroom. No accidents there.

Skinny Jeans and Bathing Rituals

I don't get skinny jeans. I really don't. Maybe its because I've been "blessed"
(under protest) with a bootilicious rear end. And skinny jeans really makes that bootiliciousness even more bootilicious. And me no likey bootilicious.

But the fashion industry cares not for people like me. If the trend is skinny jeans, well, they are gonna produce skinny jeans. And people like me have two choices: buy the skinny jeans and look like a carrot, or shop hop for weeks on end without any progress. I chose the latter.

Well, I finally got my unskinny jeans. But it made me remember how body conscious we females are. I mean, some of us even have hair washing rituals. Yes, hair washing can be a religious experience. Kinda. Here's the story.

Oh, and that picture is just to make you laugh. Back to the story.

It was 12 midnight and a group of "orang muda yang tak guna" were lepaking making a nuisance of themselves. Amongst them was a "orang yang tak begitu muda tapi masih muda la" who was provoking the nuisance.

For those of you who speaketh not the language of my country, here's the translation:

• Orang muda yang tak guna - useless youths
• Lepaking - hanging out
• Orang yang tak begitu muda tapi masih muda la - A not so young but still young person...la.

So the Orang Masih Muda (OMM) had just found out that she and one of the Orang Muda Tak Guna (OMTG) had the same bathing ritual as her.

OMM: So ya, I shampoo my hair first...
OMTG: And then rinse...then put the conditioner...
OMM: But cannot rinse yet...
OMTG: Must let it sit, so soap the body first...
OMM: Wait a while...
OMTG: THEN only rinse. Start with the body then the hair...
OMM: So that the conditioner has a few more moments to soak in the hair...

Realising that they were kindered spirits in the realm of hair washing, they excitedly gave each other high fives. But wait, there's more.

OMM: Actually right, there's something else I do...
OMTG: Which is?
OMM: You probably think its stupid...
OMTG: Tell la...
OMM: Well, do you comb your hair when you wash it?
OMTG: Of course...
OMM: Coz right, you need to wash your comb, so I run it thru after I apply shampoo.
OMTG: Serious? So do I!!! Like that the shampoo will clean the comb.
OMM: YEAH!!
OMTG: And after you comb after conditioning it too right?
OMM: To make sure the conditioner reaches each strand?
OMTG: EXACTLY!!!
OMM: Do you comb from front to back or back to front?
OMTG: Back to front!!!
OMM: ME TOO!!!
OMTG: So you loose hair from the back instead of the front right?
OMM: YA YA!!!

And so that is the story of how the Orang Masih Muda and the Orang Muda Tak Guna realised that they were not alone in the world. Someone out there thought exactly the way they did, and it brought much joy and comfort to know that they weren't so weird after all.

I've long passed the adolescent stage where I wished my flat nose could exchange places with my not so flat booty. After all, the flat nose is the dominant gene in the family - there's no running from THAT. And no matter how many lunges and butt squeezes you do, nothing's gonna change the fact that God made your hip bones THAT wide. Besides, contrary to popular belief, you can lipo fat away from your hips, but bones...bones are there to stay.

So we females content ourselves with making the best of the one thing we can change - we wash our hair. And we wash it good.

Redang

A holiday in the Tan family means an escape to some ulu, godforsaken village in the middle of nowhere. Usually, that involves a winding journey up the hills to Cameron highlands or Frasers hill. But this time, dad decided to shake things up a bit and take us to Redang Island.

But before I get ahead of myself, let me give you a 101 on "how not to pee". You see, getting to Redang involves a 7 hour bus ride to the bus station, an hour transfer from station to jetty, and another half hour from the jetty to the island. That combined with all the waiting in between transfers calls for an awesome 12 hour journey from house to resort.

And let me let you in on a secret: I don't like public toilets. Loath them. Avoid them at all costs. End of story. So here's the 101 on "how not to pee". Drink next to nothing, and eat lots of high sodium junk food. The overdose of sodium in your body will cause your kidneys to retain more water to ensure that the electrochemical balance in your body does not go haywire. Therefore, whatever liquid you consume will not make in down into your bladder. Hence, the urge to pee is suppressed. I like it when I get to apply what I learn in everyday crisis.

Really, the theory about eating sponge cake to absorb your pee is not valid.

So we got to Redang, and the island is pretty much everything it is reported to be - beautiful. Clear waters, white beaches, corals galore and crazy fish that eat out of your hand.

I mean, I even dragged my lazy butt out of bed to catch the sunrise, and that's saying a lot.

Sure the resort wasn't 5*'s, and the beaches were rather overcrowded. Neither I do not appreciate karaoke-ers taking turns to blah into the mike through out the night. And yes, after 4 snorkeling trips, you end up seeing (I quote some random youth) "the same d@*& fish and the same d@*& corals". But somehow, beauty is beauty, and ME likes pretty white beaches.

Dad on the other hand, likes water. Water is his friend.

Mum, not so much. Water and mum no mix.

As for me, me likes sleep. And hammock and me became best-ies. And me also likes how dad unwittingly censored my butt from the picture. Thank you dad.

So after 4 days, we took the same crazy bus trip back to KL. And I repeated the same high sodium low salt diet, making it back home in one piece. Albeit slightly sun burnt.