Ok, what happens if you hang out with famous people? You're pulled into the same group and have the national newspapers photographing you. Acckk!! Hahaha.. Definitely not something I welcome so much. I was planning to bolt but then 4 camera flashes went off in front of us and all I can do was smile. I so do not want to get this kind of publicity. Makes me want to run and hide. Worse, they even had my name. So it will be published as well. Oh no.. I think I have too many jealous people around. Having them know my real name is very very bad. Not many people know my real name. My real full name. But some had tried many times to do many bad things. This is bad news. Bad bad bad. This is what happens when you hang out with famous people.
Note of caution : If you prefer to keep a low-profile, do not hang out with famous people. You'll get caught in the whole hoo-haa and then you'll feel regret that your face will be plastered all over the newspaper with your real name at the bottom.
I wish I had worn a rag. It has something to do with my dress. Well, that's what the cameraman said. My dress made me interesting and they had to take my picture as well. Sheeesh! I should have had my drink at another table. But what can I say? These people are nice. And cool. And not intimidating in the least. They're friends. I can't just lift my skirts and run or crawl under the table when cameramans come around. I'll look like a fool and so unsporting. And now this is what I have to pay.
Then there's Bumsey again. His face in the newspaper because of the great news for the Asia Pacific ICT International Award. I am SOOOOOO proud of my Bumsey. Yeay! With the press conference and everything, he is so cool. Hehehe.. My gorgeous Bumsey.. Ahhhh.. But then again, this is my blog, so he may go brag about it in his own blog on his own achievements.. Hehehe..
Finally, I don't know why some people find the need to leave comments at my shoutbox regarding that witch. Seriously. Whoever you are. You're lucky I forgot both my shoutmix login and password. Why in heaven's name do you have to plaster his/her face link in my shoutbox? It is SO stupid. Not only the person looks like a faggot or a tranny or something equally ugly but seriously, don't bother leaving these type of links in my shoutbox. You're wasting your time. I don't know this person. I don't care about this person. As a matter of fact, I pity this person for having you people to trash his/her name. I'm not very sure if this is a he/she. Looks like a tranny. Oh well.. Moving on..
Maybe I should get myself a wig. So nobody will notice I am that person in the paper. And those who do know which newspaper and when it came out, please do not go broadcasting it to the world. I am embarrassed as it is. Plus, it wasn't me. It was my double.. Hahaha!!
It was so unexpected that I hardly get to breathe and shake myself mentally of what had just took place. Ok, let me tell you the story...
I left my apartment unit exactly at 1pm. I got down to the Mall. Alright, maybe you might get confused here a little bit so let me elaborate how it is that I get down from my apartment to the Mall. I don't think I need to type the name of the place, but I think you might be able to visualize when I said that my apartment unit is on top of a big shopping Mall that houses a lot of boutiques. And right next to the apartment unit is a hotel. My apartment is called "Residences". Anytime I'm hungry, I can go down to the Mall and grab Tony Roma's or some delish but also a little pricey cupcakes, go into Lewre and try on all the rhinestone studded shoes without buying them (Hahahha! I like to do that! Hahhaa!) and if I'm bored, I go to mph to read or go to the cinema. Bumsey and I just shifted to this unit on my Mom's birthday a couple of days ago. It's fabulous. It's our harta sepencarian thingy. But the wool carpet is yet to be installed.
So, I took the elevator, and instead of going straight to Laksa Shack to take away my usual, I "menggatal" went to the hotel lobby to chat with a friend of mine working at the concierge for a minute. It was just a minute. Seriously. I asked her how was her day and she complained about a freaky non-local guy who offered to pay her for services she refused to do, and then I said my goodbyes, walked backwards about three steps before I turn and went straight into a wall.
Ok, truth is, it wasn't a wall. It was a person. All 6' 1" of him. Right in front of me. A familiar 6' 1" person.
I wanted to bolt. Or if I was not mistaken, in that 2 seconds our eyes clashed, I had wished reverently that the floor would swallow me. Because I had hoped and hoped not to come to the path of this person ever again. I had gone missing. I was so quiet and unresponsive all those years ago.
But today, God crossed my stars and his stars or his moon or his eclipse and allowed me to walk straight into his damn bloody person.
His eyes widened (it looked kinda comical actually), my eyes widened (coz I was so surprised I thought I was thrown into a very bad horror movie) and then he smiled and I had to adjust to his look that had changed so much and I stepped back. I think it all happened for like 5 seconds, but believe me, if you come into the path of the person you hope never to see until your other 7 lives, 5 seconds feels like 5 days.
I sidestepped him and wanted to leave immediately but he grabbed my wrist and asked me in a frowning why-you-leaving-so-fast voice which made my temper flared instantly. I gave him one of my flashy eye "look" and told him to let me go. Ok, I asked nicely. He still didn't let me go. So I wrenched my wrist from him (which was not a good idea because he have a basketball player hands and my wrist is just like a twig and I nearly snapped my wrist into two).
He asked me the ultimate question. Why did I leave him?
WHAT??!
Seriously. If you have only 1 minute to live, or you know the world is going to end in 1 minute, would you ask the stupidest question ever that you already know the answer to? Duh!
It was an on-air matter. He was an idiot. He believed a third party about my loyalty to him. He chose to believe another person - who was pissed I threw a damn bouquet at his face - instead of me, when he had me. If he was not the stupidest person on planet earth at that time, I don't know what other excuses I can give. He was stupid to think he can dangle me from his little finger like a puppet until he "recovers". Well excuuuuuuse me! I do not wait for anybody. Certainly not somebody who has issues. Or somebody who finds the need to prove himself or think he could make me jealous by putting his hand up some slut's shirt. Of all the girls he can be with, pay to or order to act around him, he had to feel up one girl that I have no reaction to whatsoever.
Then, he asks me why I left him??
Awww.. Come on!
So, since I was adamant to leave and I didn't want to make a scene because in between the wrist-wrenching, stupid question and me looking at him like he's the biggest idiot, I noticed there were 6 other older-looking gentleman wearing pretty much the same suit and necktie getup like him and watching our little tete-a-tete with interest.
I know I wasn't paid for this stupid drama, so I gave him one sweet retort, where he looked incredibly surprised and then he kept mumbling he's sorry and if only I'll let him make up to it but I decided to use the "F" word (no, not that "F" word) and showed him my ring and warned him to not follow me. Because he is long forgotten.
I couldn't help but notice that one tear drop before I turned and left him right there at the hotel lobby...
At 5pm, my friend from the hotel concierge came to have a little drink with me for tea-time and turned into my unrecruited informant. She told me how broken his face looked like the minute I left and how she actually have a crush on him for these past few years, especially since he buffed up his body and cut his hair short. I told her to go ahead, take control, but she refused since he used to be with me. Oh well, I wasn't the one who stopped her or anything.
The only thing I didn't need elaboration from my friend was when she started talking about his financial booming these past few years from the 2 construction companies he took over. Look, I'm going to state in this blog the same thing I told her. This will be a somewhat official statement...
I do not care how much money he makes per year. If it's true he makes RM14bil last year alone, then congratulation, good for him. Very good for him. He must sleep very sound at night.
Just like I told him flat a few years ago, I am not the type of girl who goes after guys because they have the money. I would never ask for anything, I never want anything, and I never care if he has anything or nothing at all. I would rather slaught like hell to get my own money than ask from a guy. I don't feel any pride being with somebody who is rich or feel any jealousy if other people is with somebody who is rich. Because I know it is not my own freaking money. It will always be HIS money. Sure if he's in a lovey-dovey mode he'd promise you the moon and the stars but let's just say something happened, how would you feel if he suddenly started "ungkit" about how you "tak tau malu" and just "tumpang" all his riches all this while? What can you say if you DID kind of "tumpang" his money to get free-rides and free-stuffs? He wouldn't take one glance and care for what you sacrificed for. He'd just see you as a parasite. Macam pokok langsuir tu. Hahahaha...
So, I DO NOT find pride of being with somebody rich. As a matter of fact, I feel somewhat ashamed. Because I confess, I do not come from a family that makes RM14bil PER YEAR. And being with someone who does, makes me feel humbled. I do not want to walk behind him with my head bent and my eyes to the floor. I'm not that type of girl. I want to walk next to a guy whom I can keep my head the same level as he does. As equals. Not only intellectually and physically but also family-wise.
I do not want to show-off over something I have no rights to - the only part of the picture I fit in is only as a "girlfriend". Even if I marry some freaking rich guy does not mean I can show-off either. Like I said, he can ungkit anytime. Human will always be human. Those girls yang tak sedar diri tu are probably just so deprived in their own family so I take pity on them. But then again, just like my friend said, maybe they show off because they also work hard, "Hidup atas duit lendir dia sendiri. Hahaha". Ewwww. Yuck!
So yeah, if I want to show-off, it would be because of my own hard work, my own brilliancy, my own success. If other people want to show-off to me, then it should be because THEY own the money, or they are smarter than me or they are so much successful career-wise. If you are NOT, then no need to come visit my blog and read what I write and having to write a counter post on your blog regarding how sad my life should be for not having somebody rich. I've had a few of those types before. Not just one or two, but a few and yet, I feel empty and never whole at the end of the day. Maybe it's true. Money can never buy happiness. It can buy you designer shoes and clothes but not happiness.
The only lucky part about this was, I had never beg. And thank god for that, because now, his tears, their tears run for me. Not the other way around. How many girls can honestly say that a guy cried for them (a guy who makes RM14bil a year mind you, and in the middle of a freaking hotel lobby anyways!)? Is that a boost to my ego? Damn right it is! And that's something no money can buy. Hahhahaha!!
What do you do if your man suddenly buy a handbag for you for no particular reason? Of all the handbags you use to like, this is the most definite contrast of your taste but you kinda liked it the first time you saw it because you can see yourself using it. The funny part is, you never told anybody that you secretly fantasized having it slung onto your shoulder, not even saying it in your dreams and then, jeng jeng jeng, one day your man turn up with a box in his hand and then you open it and you saw ---- your early Christmas present (coz he's not gonna be around 'till 19th and after that it'll be crazy to try to find gifts).
Of coz I am so effing excited to get it now instead of later because at least now I can use it ON Christmas day itself.
Hey, I just realized it's red color... I just remember I need to find a damn red blouse for my Mexican getup. Oh no! I've forgotten entirely about that! Crap! Where can I find a sombrero for the man? Argh! Damn! Damn! Triple Damn!
My friend excitedly told me a good news (for her anyway!). She had Absinthe at Bubba Gump. Absinthe and Bubba Gump should not even be in the same sentence. But still, she had it there. Drank a couple of glasses as well, got her blood ABV (alcohol by volume) level to probably 90%. Drunk as a horse. No, wait, drunk as a wheelbarrow. Hahaha..
Ok, for you folks who does not know what Absinthe is, let me say something in plain words. Absinthe is EVIL. Or HEAVEN to some, however you want to look at things. And surprisingly, it is legal here in Malaysia. Hahaha! I don't know how it is legal in Malaysia but hey, if they wanna make it legal, that's up to them. They can go around acting like so pious by apprehending the former Perlis mufti, Dr. Mohd Asri for the stupidest reason you can ever think of but they don't think Absinthe is anything dangerous to the "allegedly" Muslim country so, there you go, it's legal! Those who drink, rejoice people! Rejoice!
I won't be able to tell you how it tastes like or how it feels because I don't drink. I have managed to live for 26 years without even touching an alcohol bottle or can, not to mention drinking anything. I would very much prefer to keep it that way till I die, thank you. Hahaha..
So, the green toyol should make way to this little devil coz it is far more naughtier, even if it does come in a fairy-like looking label.
However, the hallucination part, I was told is not real. I mean, she didn't suddenly hallucinate being a princess in a fairy kingdom where pumpkins change into carriages and mices turn into horses and stuff. It makes her very happy. Very very very happy. And it probably kills some of her brain cells because she had some memory lapses about the night. Whatever it is though, I bet the guy she was with did not complain. Even though the damn thing costs like three nuclear bombs and a 50-acre radioactive plant. Hahahaha!!
Hope you're not hungover girl!
Which reminds me, now that Bumsey is super bz, I should get along with the pre-honeymoon plans. It would be great. Although, I'm a little out of ideas when it comes to whatever other surprises I can give him. Anyone care to help?
