This morning, I decided to treat myself with Toffeenut Latte before entering the office, contrary to the initial plan of having my regular half boiled egg and nasi lemak over teh o suam gelas besar.

The sudden swerve was also due to the fact that I want to make comparison between the same latte in KLCC and Uptown with Manila’s as the benchmark.

True enough as expected, it’s not a slip-up on the ingredient. The one we have here is just slightly bitter than the one I had for the first time in Ermita. Theirs is just better…

However, that, by all odds is not the topic I want to cover. It’s the barista that made me sigh with disappointment. I trully am…

Usually, as you approach the counter, the barista will greet you with nice cheerful "Welcome to Starbucks!" smile regardless of who you are, what colour your skin is and how shabbily dressed you are that day.

But this morning, I heard no ‘Morning!’ greeting at all. Not even a smile when I started placing my order. Knowing how the session was going to end, I went ‘wait-and-see’ if I’d be presented with a smile before I left.

True enough it didn’t happen.

*sipping her bitter latte*

If I were to rate his service, I will not hesitate to circle a 1 on the card for having unfriendly treatment.

Oh, wait… The story does not end there…

Later, as somebody entered the door he startled me when he mouthed a chirpy, cheerful, the-intonation-you-can-only-hear-from-a-salesman-upon-knowing-that-you-have-a-bulky-pocket.

"Well, good morning sir! Welcome to Starbucks. How are you doing today?".

Turned out to be that the new customer was a Papalagi (a Samoan word for Mat Salleh).

What a bastard.

It’s crystal clear to see that there’s an unequal treatment between the local and the Expats. Just because I’ve decided not to dress up today, it does not mean I don’t deserve the equivalent amount of respect and my fair share of good customer service!

I used to distribute brochures for 5 long hours and along the period, I can proudly say that I never failed to throw a smile to everyone whom I handed the brochure to no matter how stiff my feet felt.

So what is sitting at a fancy coffee joint counter and make coffee, as to compare to having to stand for a few hours, distributing papers and facing rejections?

I guess, we are what we always are. The quality of the book will always be judged by the fancy-ness of the cover when we can always try to take a minute to read the excerpt at the back…

I can never make a declaration that I don’t do such. But at least I should be given a credit for trying not to be that judgmental.

Ya, tau… kamu semua akan mati kutu. But try to look at the brighter side: workers of the Mapleys will have a reason to force their bosses to give year-end bonus for sudden booming customers flooding their restaurants. Net junkies will eventually go out of their coccoon and live the life pre-Net days, where the only mean of communication is by attending social gatherings. The Telco also will have the reason to celebrate due to increasing amount of calls and SMSes.

See! Other’s lost is other’s advantage!

On a not so light note, Tuesday has been a tormenting day!

On the road to work…

Accident, accident and more accident. I don’t think there’s any casualty. But if you are well-informed of the situation during accident… IN Malaysia, you can already imagine the state of the traffic.

At work…

I hate entering in the toilet the time when someone’s doing her business. To make matter worse, there are only 3 partitions in which there’s no way for me to escape (‘cept running to the ladies on the next level). God knows how I had to force my lung to expand its capacity beyond normality in order to allow me to exit the door alive. You wouldn’t want to know the level of stench I had to bear… you definitely wouldn’t want to know…

At The Gym…

I guess, Tuesday the 26th was the day my nosebuds are being put to the ultimate test. When, my next-door ‘shower’ neighbour decided to release her long-overdue Killer Gas while showering, again my poor lungs were being forced to perform yet another emergency expansion. When I knew I couldn’t survive for another minute, I quicky grab my shower gel to defeat the deadly aroma. There goes my period of tranquility over hot shower… Nak pengsan!

On the road to my hibernation sanctuary…

Accident, accident and another accident. Apparently, a newspaper delivery ‘anney’ bike got brushed by a Wira. Again, being a Malaysian who is trying her best not to be another typical Malaysians that love free shows on the road, I steered to the clear lane and quickly drove my way away from the drama.

Come to think of it, I couldn’t help myself thinking of double events of accidents and unwanted ‘rectum-generated perfume’ samplings.

What a day!

And now I need to resolve the issue of pasting this entry without having to deal with those junk codings generated by Word…

And don’t worry, I won’t get all defensive if you agree with my title because that’s a well-known fact.

Although there are a quite a number of assertions regarding the word ratio between men and women, which varies from reasonable 9,000:4,000 to 20,000:7,000, in the end, they all fall under the same conclusion that women blab (way) more than men.

Yesterday, my sister was SMSing her friend (male) and I got the chance to take a peek on the messages. I must say that most of the messages he sent didn’t exceed a line, in which some were the same variation of the monosyllabic ‘Yes’ (Whoa… I’m using an oxymoron lah.). Talking about a waste of credit but looking at the machine he drives, I don’t think that’s the issue that will concern him the most.

Being a person who can be quite expressive at times (or rather, most of the times), I like to deliver my points in an expressible manner. That (to me), can only be done by incorporating more words.

However, I also don’t deny the impact monosyllabic words can give you.

The actual message that I am delivering are…

1) One me: I love to talk using different vocal sounds and facial expression to show the other party of my actual notion about some issues.

2) On women generally: Sorry, us women just love to talk. You guys have no other option but to bear with it (of course you can escape but you can’t run away forever, can you?)

So by now, you know why my reply mostly consist of more than a couple of lines…

Let’s talk about love. No, this is not a review on Celine Dion’s previous song. It is just an everyday topic which undoubtedly still makes it to the top 10 of Interesting Subject Matter Ever.

But before I start, let me save this file for my PC has a dark sense of humor of paralyzing itself in the middle of an important work. . . .

Better…

Now, do allow me to jump to my point which will be delivered in a form of a question…

How much signal do men need as an indication that girls fancy them?

Looking back, it never was a disturbing question (at least to me) but when I started to receive nasty stares from a few men whom I used to have a crush with after questioning them about my amount of ‘I like you’ signals, it makes me bewilder with amusement. In then end, all fingers are pointing at me.

Basically, I need a Book for Dummies for this. If Flirting To Show Interest on Someone is part of SPM, I’d score worse than my Physics.

Harmless coquette is what I am capable of doing but to turn this attempt into THE REAL INTERPRETABLE SIGNAL is the major deal. In the end, men will eventually see it as ‘another non-serious flirt by Kay’ that in the end makes all the possibles IMPOSSIBLE and Cupid resigns the task.

So please help me with this. If you like me, be direct about it so I know where we stand for I suck very much at reading YOUR signals.

Thank YOU!

Kesian astronauts kita. Terpaksa tolong our local unis on their research. Ntah berapa banyak test tubes yang terpaksa mereka hangkut. However, the things that make my heart tickles are the way the reporter delivered the facts. I find it quite hilarious.

As far as going to space and conducting researches is concerned, I have a slight trouble comprehending the objectives of these researchers with whatever they’re trying to do. I’m sure it’ll benefit us when the time living in Mars is an option to spend your pension money but now? Urm… I’ll let you do the thinking.

Perhaps, the list of the science projects won’t so much giggle-able if the reporter tried to put it in ‘reasearch’ manner and not of the news. Anyways, here are the things they’re forcing them two angkasawan to do. (Poor boy… woman deprivation and kena deal with test tubes some more…).

They definitely need to reword the objectives.

a)    Cells in space

Objective: Compare the growth and some other aspects of the genes and cells behavior… IN SPACE.

b)    Microbes in space

Objective: Better understanding about bacteria and their growth… IN SPACE.

c)    Protein in space

Objective: To obtain information on crystallization. (I have no further comment)

d)    Space Medicine

Objective: To see effect in space on the Angkasawan. (Like you can never use them Russians as reference point…)

e)    Food Tech

The test: To bring certain Malaysian food and HERBS to space for consumption. HOYEH BEBEH! BRING IN THE HERBS!!!

Objective: To develop some Malaysian food in a form suitable for transportation and consumption in space. (I’m not surprised if daun Kesom will have the equal effect as MJ in the outer space.)

Whatever it is, all my heart is still at Dr. Muszaphar.

Comelnye ngkau!