Friday, February 16, 2007

My Name is Eduardo, Babeh! II

Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore... she jumped from behind the shadows and pounced on Eduardo.

Clumsily, they tumbled to the floor, face down. 'Ooofh!' Eduardo said as the air in his lungs rushed out of him. Gaining his senses, he turned around, ready to defend himself.

'Helena!' Shocked out of his wits, he didn't know what to do except to gawk at her.

'SUR-PRIIISE!!!!' Still in a daze, Eduardo thought he heard two voices shouting. One was without a doubt Helena's, another was sonorous and strangely familiar....

Realizing that the thing was probably still reaching for him, he looked up. To see it pull its face out. Preparing to scream, his voice was caught in his throat when...

'Eh? Joseph? What the-?'

Joseph, all six feet of him, was shaking with laughter. Helena joined him, holding her stomach as if she had cramps. Eduardo glanced back and forth, totally confused, until he saw the mask that Joseph was holding. At last, realization dawned upon him. Then he too, burst out in laughter till tears rolled down his cheeks.

Gasping for breath, he said to Helena,'That was some Valentine's Day gift!!' Helena nodded with high frequency, exclaiming, 'Yeah! I know!!' her high pitched laughter echoed throughout the study. 'Happy Belated Valentine's Day, honey!'

When the three of them finally calmed down, Joseph said,'Boy, you should have seen the look on your face. I was surprised you didn't wet yourself! You surprised me when you said you had a new idea for your book!!'

Helena chipped in,' You know, I would have donned the mask myself, but given my small frame, I doubt you would have felt for it...'

'Hahaha.... good thinking! Man, you really got me there!' Eduardo said.

'Well,' Joseph straightened his hair and shirt, his piercing hazel eyes focused on Eduardo 'guess I better leave you two love birds alone now eh...' he winked.

Eduardo and Helena walked him to the door. Before leaving, Joseph left his words of wisdom for the day. ' Have a great time, kids!'

Chuckling to themselves, Eduardo and Helena turned to face each other and wrapped their arms around each other's waist. Helena leaned forward and tried to kiss Eduardo when he broke the silence by asking ,'Hey babe..... where the hell did you get that mask? It was so fucking real!'
Helena smiled while thinking: Sigh, he's never been a romantic....

This, some people would say...eccentric couple met four years ago. Helena was a florist, and business was slow when Eduardo strutted in her shop donning a dark red velvet cape. Of course, he caught Helena's attention right away. There stood in front of her, a thin lanky guy wearing a black T-shirt, over-sized jeans and a ... a cape? He wasn't terribly dashing, his face was a little pock marked and eyebrows a tad too bushy. But somehow, Helena couldn't take her eyes off him. It was his eyes.... she thought. Those long lashes and dreamy eyes...

Helena asked tentatively, 'Erm... how may I help you?' Truth was, he hadn't came in to buy flowers, but he just had writer's block. What the hell does that have to do with anything? You ask. Well, Eduardo liked to do weird things when the dreaded writer's block hit him. To get inspiration. To just be spontaneous and let his creative juices flow again. Once, he wore a garish green wig, put on his black Elvis Presley costume (he fave colour was black) and danced around town. In the streets, the supermarket, in the library.... everywhere people thought he was cuckoo. Nobody recognized him, cos frankly nobody knew how the great-author-of-gruesome-novels looked like. He used the pseudonym 'Mama's Boy', just for the heck of it.

So, most of the time his escapades worked out and he'll be bombarded by ideas at the end of the day. And for this purpose, his closet was filled with a plethora of funky costumes, wigs and accessories. His cleaning lady, Martha was amused, but knew him well enough not to say anything.

That day, again he got stuck with his plot and hadn't a clue how to go on, thus he rummaged through his closet and finally decided on his vampire costume. Though he did not want to scare people.... he thought. Because his skin was really fair and there were menacing dark circles under his eyes, he figured some kids might even mistake him as a real vampire. Ergo, he forgone the rest and just went for the cape. He was strutting down the pavement (like he owned the damn street) and went into Helena's shop on a whim.

And there he was standing in front of Helena, at loss for words. 'Er.... hi, I'm Ed... Eduardo' he stammered. 'And... I'm Helena...' Helena was contemplating if she should just get her pepper spray just in case. Eduardo thought of dancing again but he didn't want to embarrass himself. No, not in front of her.... Mutual attraction was in the air albeit both of them didn't know at that time. With her crazy scraggly hair and glitter green smoky eyes, it was as if she didn't care but still she looked good to Eduardo. He appraised her surreptitiously, taking notice of her grey corset top and pink shawl tied at her waist. The rest of her he couldn't see because she was standing behind the counter. Not the best combo in the world, but hey! I'm digging it! There's something unique about her...

Unexpectedly, Mr. Dreamy Eyes blurted, 'So, have a good day.' and turned around. Then, he figured it would be rude not to buy anything so he turned again and said, 'On second thought, I'd like to buy a dozen roses...'

From that day onwards, he came to her shop almost every day, buying a stalk if feeling frugal, or a bouquet when in the mood for generosity. In normal attire, of course. Soon enough, they became acquainted and Helena found herself expecting Eduardo's company impatiently every day. As a result, Eduardo's house was filled to the brim with roses, lilies, sunflowers etc which gave Martha a hard time. She was fully aware of what was going on, cos well, nothing escapes her, and felt happy for her employer but just wished he wouldn't forbid her to throw away those flowers. Not until they withered.

After 5 months, he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. It was evident that Eduardo wasn't the most romantic person in the world, seeing that he frequented mamak stalls with Helena. Still, she was in love with him, and they both loved the gross, ugly and eccentric. Thus it became some sort of tradition for Helena to figure out ways to scare the crap outta Eduardo every February the 15th, because she couldn't do it on Valentine's Day as it was the busiest and most profitable day ever. It was Helena's gift to Eduardo - good scares - and she had fun doing it. Though Eduardo refused to celebrate, he deemed it as over-commercialised and blood-sucking. He wasn't a romantic, after all.

Again, Martha was aware of this and just rolled her eyes and chuckled when Eduardo fell for Helena's tricks 'Aigh, what a silly couple...' Eduardo always forgets about February the 15th, he's such a workaholic. Martha mused.

Back to the present, Martha was watching from a corner at the couple hugging each other at the waist. 'Kiss her... kiss her...' she whispered vehemently. She shook her head in disappointment when Eduardo spoiled the moment. 'That boy really needs some help, maybe I should teach him how to please the lady, huh?'

Thursday, February 15, 2007

My Name is Eduardo, Babeh!

It was a dark, stormy night..... (omg so cheesy)

Eduardo stretched his arms upward, yawning. He was exhausted. Of course I am, it's 3 fucking a.m. already, he surmised. Sitting in his study,he glanced around at his dark mahogany bureau, carpeted parquet floor, the comfy couch that sat in the corner, ever so inviting. With only his table lamp on, the space was cast with amorphous shadows, giving it an eerie atmosphere. But he liked it this way, only me and the world, that's what he thought during these ungodly hours trying to finish his work, or just reading a really gripping novel. No one else was awake, granting him freedom to do whatever he fancied. No one else...

Or so he thought.

Relaxing on his cushioned chair, he put his feet on the bureau and his hands behind his head. Grinning, he closed his eyes trying to just savour this quiet moment. His thoughts wandered off...

What was that? That thud?

Eduardo jolted and opened his eyes. Did I just hear something?
No of course not silly, it's just your mind playing tricks on you. Again.
Yeah... this ain't the first time huh?
he chuckled.

Eduardo always had a crazy imagination. Since he was a child, he came up with wild stories of ghouls, trolls and genies and later during puberty it was psychos, murderers and maniacs. Teachers thought he had a morbid mind and stayed away. But at the end of the day, he was just like any other teenager, insecure, awkward, misunderstood. He merely had a quirky imagination.

And last time it gave him trouble was last fortnight, when he mistook a misplaced mannequin as a burglar (or professional assassin, his mind told him. Though the mind didn't give a reason as to why anyone would wanna get rid of him permanently) during his late night venture to get some instant noodles. Poor mannequin, it was battered countless times by a baseball bat and was barely recognizable at the end of its ordeal. These sort of 'incidents', as his cleaning lady called it, happened quite frequently, no thanks to his over active imagination and his fondness of late night instant noodles.

Oh yes, his dear imagination. It gave him hell during his teenage years, he was constantly being laughed at for his suspicions that Mr. Gomez (Physics teacher) was actually a spy, what with his glacial demeanour and cool shades. And not to forget, his odd short visits to Mrs. Prudence's (Art teacher) office. He always came out satisfied, with a smirk on his face. Like he discovered some top secret or something or busted some crime mastermind or.... Observant little Eduardo thought they were clandestine meetings to discuss government secrets. It turned out that he was actually -ahem- having an affair with dear old prim Mrs. Prudence. He realised later, not without some disgust, that that smirk, was lecherously so, not cos he saved the world or anything.

Eduardo dug into his thoughts, how did the principal found out about their affair? Oh yeah, he was caught red handed (Literally, he smeared red paint all over her -ooof, he was going for dirty that time!-) by the gym teacher. The gym teacher (can't remember his name) was decent enough to wait for them to finish climaxing, before running to get his video camera inform the principal. Of course, the shameful couple was fired on the spot. "Heh, who knew Physics and Art could get along so well huh?" That was the standing joke in the school for a long long time...

But who's having the last laugh now huh? He thought with pleasure. Now, his trouble causing visualization was his source of income. Equipped with his imagination, he went on to write dozens of novels, all with different extents of morbidness, all critically acclaimed best sellers. He didn't even have to go to college, he started with his first paperback right after graduation. Innocent and wide-eyed, he was rejected by a few unappreciative publications (Dumb asses, they were too near sighted to see my potential, thought that Malaysian readers weren't "ready" for my level of grotesque-ness yet..what the fuck was that supposed to mean?) but his story was snatched by one and the rest was history. Fresh and gruesomely interesting, his novels were widely published and promoted. Very soon, the big bucks came in.

Thud! Creeeak....

Snapped back into reality, Eduardo was wondering whether it wasn't his imagination after all.
Oh my God! A burglar! A real one!
His mind swirled with scenarios of his death. He was, after all a writer.

Before he had time to react, the shadow at the corner of his eye moved swiftly towards him. Eduardo heard water dripping from the assailant's hat, its crash to the floor muffled by the carpet. For a second, just a second, his ears were tuned to those drips and the sound of the assailant's boots against the floor.

Eduardo turned around to face him, gasping in horror at the same time. It was not a face that stared back at him, but a thing with ghastly sunken grey eyes, sallow cheeks, with flesh slipping off its forehead and jaw, revealing more decaying flesh infested with fat pulsating worms, no nose was present, not even an orifice. It was a corpse. No, a zombie.

Its mouth pulled back into a malicious grin. Eduardo could smell its putrid stench getting stronger and stronger. He was frightened, but captivated at the same time, staring at the thing that resembled creatures he sometimes wrote about, only this time... it was real. It actually exists. Feeling nauseous and light headed, he tried to run but unsurprisingly his feet were rooted to the ground, just like in nightmares.

That's it. This must be a dream! I must have fell asleep! Come on.... wake up now...! he convinced himself fervently.

Barely inches away now... the figure reached out for Eduardo. He shut his eyes tightly, preparing to face his death. Tata world, tata Helena.... dear Helena..

Suddenly.... a thought came to him. His eyes opened.

'Wow! I have an idea for a new book!' he exclaimed to well, either himself or that thing reaching out for him.

Crouching behind the bureau, hidden within the shadows, a woman rolled her eyes and sighed, 'Eduardo, once a writer, always a writer....'

(To be continued......*)

*depends on mood

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Chinese New Year: the Belly Rules

Hey ho hey ho, once again CNY is just around the corner, families get together, young adults get pestered with 'so when are you getting married ar?' questions by throngs of unrecognisable aunties (luckily not my time yet), decorations will be put up, everybody gets fat n 'prosperous'......

aaahhh.... the vibe of CNY..... ba guas n delicious cookies AND of course, ang pows! The reason we (singles) endure carrying our asses ponderously to relatives' houses, trying hard not to yawn every other sec due to lack of oxygen caused by cramped conditions. Hey I have an idea, in lieu of actually visiting you guys (relatives), why don't you mail your ang pows to us? Great idea right? We don't hafta tolerate each other's existence n all that... k thx a lot.

Sigh, not really in the mood, but then again when am I ever in the mood for ath? Looks like I'm detesting every single sec I'm alive. Save for the times when I read n draw. That's probably my therapy.

Let's see, what else is CNY abt? Apart from the cliche family reunion, it's synonymous with stuffing urself silly with endless supplies of mandarins until u finally can't stand the sight of ath orange. It's also abt getting new clothes, in ur bid to look resplendent for the new year. Or rather in my bros' case, my mom forcing new clothes on them even though they're already working n fully capable of managing their wardrobes cos she can't stand their 'I don't need new clothes' policies. She's retired n on pension n nigh on being broke, but she absolutely cannot accept that her children don't have at least a couple of new attires to welcome the new year in.

Mmmm..... dried meat, those orgasm inducing pieces of oily, greasy delicacies! Among the things that I look forward to. Ignore my distended belly I shall, during my search of temporary levity in mouth watering comestibles (I like that word, so posh!).

Let's not be remiss of the horrors of CNY too, people. Atrocious CNY songs blasting through your grey matter, threatening to sweep a wave of nausea over you, resulting in regurgitation of your savored cookies n frizzy drinks, tsk tsk such unmitigated waste. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. But really, we don't need more CNY CDs that are bought n played once a year, then stashed away into oblivion like somebody's forgotten hidden porn stash. And the cycle repeats itself year after year.

Neither must we forget abt those rituals n prayers the older generation put us through, praying to what what what god, burning incense n yuen bou, as if the air ain't polluted enough! Hello, global warming people?! Haven't it been scorching enough already?! Quite a waste of money, resources n ozone layer don't you think?

Oooo... firecrackers! I must say, nowadays other races play as much fireworks as Chinese people do, if not more. I wonder where the hell do my neighbours get them huh? Without firecrackers, CNY would be much much more silent, it would become a 'laconic festival' (made that up, doesn't really make sense). Though, once again, it contributes to air pollution? Can you say.... utter decadence, people? Perhaps festivals are just a chance to throw away our conscience n whatever scruples we have toward the environment, a chance to say 'fuck you, Mother Nature!' ? But then again do we mankind have any guilt left in us?

Oh for God's sake I was beginning to sound like some soppy environmentalist, I totally need to get a life.

Key word for CNY: overindulgence.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Rants of a Menstruating Whale

Feeling like a whale. But can't be arsed to do ath abt it cos I'm having my period and letting myself go. So here I am, home alone and looking pregnant. Was reading a book but took this hard-to-come-by opportunity to amuse my readers (me) once again.

It's already freaking Feb now. Can u believe it? SPM results coming out in March. That's like, a blink away. I wasn't terrified by the thought of going to college, furthering my studies and all that shit. But all of a sudden, I feel like I can totally freak out. Imagine, I'm getting my results real soon! And I'm not too optimistic abt them either. What if I fail my Chinese? OMG... cannot face my tuition teacher liao... I'm at lost at what to do, was just taking it day by day, chilling, and BAM! (Reality always hits me hard. Always.) Wake up girl! You have to start thinking abt your freaking future! You know? Future?

Anyway, that day I got 15 books at the price of around RM60. What a bargain! An average of RM4 per book! You kidding me? Of course, they were 2nd hand books from Pay Less Books' stock clearance, but still damn cheap right??? Btw, was looking for some chick lit instead of the usual thrillers but couldn't find them cos maybe I didn't look thoroughly enough or during those ancient times, chick lit just wasn't popular. Heaps of books, loads of them quite antique, I must say. In the end, ended up with more thrillers than other genres. That was also partly bcos there were lots of Michael Crichton novels... I'm gonna try to finish all of them b4 getting my cataclysmic results *cringe*.

Previously, I was kinda happy with the idea of going to college, not really bcos of the education n for the sake of pertaining sagacity, but bcos of the prospects of meeting new friends, shedding this cold blooded shell I've been wearing. Seriously, I don't actually keep in touch with any of my friends, no initiating phone calls, or MSN whatsoever. Mainly, it's precipitated by my loathe of telephone conversations. I just have no idea what to say sometimes, so there are long moments of awkward silences (u can almost hear the crickets serenading), awful segues, and less than hearty laughter trying to fill in those gaps.

Ugh, how I hate my atrocious communication skills. That's why I don't call my friends voluntarily or without ulterior motives just to chit-chat. I just don't do chit-chat on the phone. The longest I can hold.. maybe an hour? That's when the long uncomfortable silences finally catches on and my friend obliges to hang up. Mostly, it would be them calling me to go out or whatever. AND, my lazy arse even turns down their kind offers when I feel too malas to go out (ugh, have to figure out what to wear, don't wanna look too shabby ma... transport n so on n so on). When I'm not in the mood, just have to cook up some lousy excuse lor.

Geez, no wonder my social life is as exciting as a sloth's. I am the epitome of anti social-ness.

Digressing, yesterday I felt like cutting open my uterus and ending it once and for all. OMG, the pain was unbearable okay, it was gnawing n refusing to go away. Thank God for Panadol Menstrual. My hair was totally matted with sweat n I felt like puking. The worst is that bcos it's internal, u can't really do ath abt it, n the idea of ripping open ur uterus is really tempting. Dahlah I woke up with my panties stained n needed to wash it myself, dahlah my tummy ached n I crapped till my legs wobbled, I didn't even have the energy to wash my hands after doing my business (can u say, ew?) n ran straight to my bed in my shirt n panties. I just wanted to pass out.

But oh Lord the pain was relentless, I had to put on my shorts, crawl down the stairs n tried to find those life-saving bright pink Panadols in the fridge. Alas, I found that I was too weak n gasping for air with my dry mouth. Really one okay, no exaggeration one... So I crashed on the stairs, moaning like a pathetic lil puppy. Then I had no choice but to call for my bro's rescue, but that bugger only responded after 3 tries. Ignore me la, next time I pengsan n knock my head see how u can handle that. Anyway, after rummaging through the fridge, failing to find the pills, phoning mum to find out its location n finally procuring those evasive pills (meanwhile I was in the fetal position n on the brink of tears), he came with a cup of warm water n those oh-thank-God-they-exist pills. Then I slept. On the stairs. Just like how a sad lil puppy would. But only for a few mins, I think. When I woke up, the pain was gone! I was like 'Hallelujah!' So I went to a chair n slept. The whole episode was totally draining ok. I thought I had my worst episode, but YESTERDAY.. oh yesterday definitely was wayyy worse.

Sigh, what have I done to deserve being female? *cries*

Oh ya, I made a post SPM to-do list right? And what have I accomplished? SIGH. There's no bigger disappointment than disappointing urself. Out of the list, I read- check, I drew... but only a lil still have loads of personal projects I haven't started on. And that's it. Did I customize my template? Nooooo.... did I roller blade? Nooooooo.... did I work out? NOOOOOO.....

Sigh. Please. This is depressing me. I've gotta stop. And they say blogging's supposed to be fun, therapeutic. Where the heck did they get that idea?