di mana taufan yang bertiupan?

I tend not to plan water-related activities with Stinky, at least till he learns to swim properly. After reading this article about cruise passengers disappearing mid-voyage, suddenly a stroll around deck on a moonlit night in the middle of the ocean seems slightly sinister. Poor things. Rest in peace.

Ignorance can be bliss. Now that I subscribe to Grist and read all sorts of fascinating articles on the environment, I worry a lot about the impact of my actions. Will adding softener to my laundry cause harmful runoff and pollute groundwater? Does my leaving the computer on while I nap so I can download the whole In the Mood for Love soundtrack (I have the album but Smart Stinky left it in Ipoh) wastes a lot of electricity and peppers the air with harmful carbon emissions? Is the tuna I’m eating legally caught? The list goes on. I’ll prolly die of a stress-related illness before the aluminium in my pots and pans give me Alzheimers.

Just what is it with Malaysians and their sense of time? We even have a term for unpunctual people and events. Janji Melayu and Sabah-time (for those in Sabah) comes to mind. If you were Malay or a Sabahan, do you really want to be cast as a stereotype? Or thought of as plain rude? I had a dinner date with a girlfriend and a few others a couple months ago. It was to be special. A reunion of sorts. Knowing KL’s rush hour traffic, I warned her that she should set out early to be in time for our 7pm dinner. She was still at home getting ready a few minutes after 6pm and her house is at least 20km away from the city centre. When I asked her why, she flippantly replied she was aiming to be fashionably late. I politely told her dinner was off. Unforgiving? Maybe, but sometimes things happen once too many times and you get sick of cooling your heels because other people can’t keep time or respect yours enough to be punctual. I still see this friend and other unrepentant laggards occasionally, but I’ve made a conscious decision to not let myself be affected by their tardiness. Late? We’ll see each other another day. Stewing is just not worth it.

Lil is a different story all together. It’s a joy to organise outings with her as you can be sure she’ll be there on the dot if not a few minutes earlier. Mike’s the same. Soundcheck at 4pm? He’ll be there by 3.59pm. Even though he knows that most likely the bloody thing will eventually start at 5pm if he’s lucky.

Off to Low Yat and its endless gadgetry pleasures. Lesson of the day: apricots can make poop just a little bit too good.

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