Finally we met after more than 2 years of on & off chatting?? Oh is here to meet his MLM agent. So happened that he is staying in an inn (more like a budget small hotel) nearby my office, less than 100 big steps away?? He likes the place, RM100 per night. I went to check out his room since it was only renovated not long ago under a new management. What I don't like is the colors. The rest is considered satisfying. His room is painted in pink........ so "Hello Kitty". The other doors are painted in purple & apple green. So I presume the color of the door tells the color of each room. According to Oh, the room is more spacious than the hotel that he has spent on his 1st night. If I knew earlier, I should have suggested Sue to stay in the same inn during her visit. I will, for the next friend's visit.

The last time I visited a ship selling books was when we were little kids, dad brought us there (can't recall if this is the same ship!?!). Today, sis & I brought the kids to MV Doulus.
I bought 3 novels, Demon, a Memoir by Tosca Lee, Women's  Intuition by Lisa Samson & Remember by Karen Kingsbury with Gary Smalley for only RM20 & a compact bible which I have always wanted(the present one is too bulky to carry around - let it be my loyal bed companion), RM40 only with RED leather cover! Never too late for a devil to turn into an angel? Or a devil is destined to be a devil? Am I that evil????

Cher comes with me to our showroom where I work sometimes, especially during the school holidays & Saturdays when I work half day till 2p.m.. Today, Patrick, a man in his mid-40's (he seems to be), our prospective client, was asking for Cher the moment he saw me in the showroom. Cher was having her cat nap in her makeshift bed with 2 chairs joined up. I had to wake her up to tell her that uncle Patrick was asking for her. Uncle Patrick knelt down next to her bed started "chatting" with her while waiting for my colleague to return to the showroom to present his proposal to him. Uncle Patrick told me that when he first saw her recently during the 1st meeting, he thought she looked lonely. He was actually proposing to her to be his adopted daughter, even though he already has 3 children of his own!!! He asked a lot of questions today, Cher was too shy & timid to answer (probably still feeling blur blur from her nap). Her staring at me made me ended up answering all the questions. Yes, her father is in Brunei, she's not the only child because she has a step-sister. Because he has remarried. And I remain single?? Unfortunately yes but Cher is fine here with her cousins, no doubt she misses her father & step-sister a lot. However, I was touched as I have never came across a man who adores Cher this much. Anyway, I have checked with Cher. She doesn't feel lonely being the only child living with me but a little bored when the wifi was down at my office..... Hahaha........

There are 2 persons I would like to thank for (apart from God & whoever created internet), Ah Soon(even though I hope not to see him again), for bringing me into the world of chatting & James, who has provoked me to express myself through writing. For better or for worse. You have painted my life! And yes, I chose the colors. Thank you.

Marco is right, he doesn't know how to impress a woman at all, he may not even remember a biblical verse, all he knows is about golfing, his daily routines and his deteriorating health. He claims that I'm in love with the poetic Shakespeare, his poems, his pen is so mighty that he has made me a prisoner of my own thinking........ I'm doomed, so doomed!! 

"O Romeo, Romeo!  wherefore art thou Romeo?" "What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!" "Why then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison." "I must be cruel only to be kind."

There was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order", she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.  She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible.

Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.

"What's that?" came the pastor's reply.

"This is very important," the woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."

The pastor didn't know what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" the woman asked.

"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.

The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork'.

It was my  favorite part because I knew that something better was coming... Like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance. So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' Then I  want you to tell them : "Keep your fork...the best is yet to come".

The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman the last time he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing, her favorite Bible and the fork placed in her right hand.  Over and over, the pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?"  And over and over he smiled.  During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman about what it symbolized to her.

The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.

So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, oh so gently, that the best is yet to come.

Cher: When are you going to cook like what Ah Poh(her granny, my mom) cooks?
Me: Few dishes like fish, meat, soup & veggie??

Cher: Yeah....
Me: My dear, there are only you & I, small eaters don't need to eat like a king everyday. Otherwise, I would end up like a balloon very soon & all those work to cook..... Aiks! Not worth it!

Cher: If daddy is here, will you cook like that?
Me: (smile)

Something happened to me a year ago. I guess by today the little faith I have has finally proven my foolish heart wrong. But thank God I have managed to revive 2 friendships revolving the loss. I will remember forever the sweet but short affection we had till Alzheimer takes it away from me. I wanted so much to give you a birthday call tonight but I'm too afraid that you won't answer my call, because I know, this year you don't feel the same for me anymore. Happy Birthday!

Unbelievable. The batteries of 2 cars died on me yesterday. I have to change a brand new battery for my car & the other car, which has been left unused for quite a while, is fine now after dad recharged it. After the usual Sunday morning rituals, mom brought Cher & Joe, my nephew, for a picnic at a beach with other relatives. I was feeling unwell, so I didn't join them. So, the rest of the day was a lazy headache afternoon. I tried to rest & not to think of anything or somebody, but my mind just couldn't rest well. In fact, I'm still having the headache. Yet, I still have to come to the office...... I wanna go home I want my bed!!!

The obituary page had my name and photo in it. It wasn't too good a snap of me, I thought, as I looked at it absent-mindedly. And then I gave a cry of terror, "What's my photo doing in the death column?"

I remembered, the sharp chest pain last night. I looked around, it was morning; but my coffee had not been made. People were entering the house and walking through the bedroom door. I walked in and looked on the bed. There I was, all laid out; dead. People stared at me, not many were crying, and some, I noticed, looked relieved. "LISTEN" I shouted, "I' M HERE, I'M OKAY, I'M NOT DEAD." Nobody heard me. They were all looking at the me on the bed. I walked back into the sitting room.

The coffin had arrived. It was being set up in the center. I watched them carry my body and put it in. "I' M NOT READY TO GO AS YET" I shouted, "I STILL HAVE WORK TO DO. DON'T BURY ME BEFORE I AM READY"

I looked around. "Where's my family?," I asked myself. They were in the next room, weeping. "I'M NOT DEAD " I shouted to my wife and children. They continued to weep.

"How can I go before telling you I love you?," I asked my wife. "How can I go, before hugging you both?," I asked my children. I wept with them.

The singing was coming from the next room. I walked in as they sang my favorite songs. There were tears in the eyes of one of the men as he sang. "But we haven't talked to each other for years", I said to him. "Why are you crying? Come on, shake my hand and let's make up." The man continued crying as he sang. He did not see my extended hand.

My dog walked up and smelt my coffin. She didn't seem too shattered I was no more. "I guess I was too strict with you," I told her, "Come, let me pet you." The dog yawned as it stretched out and fell asleep.

The singing stopped as the priest came in. He sat next to the man who was crying and leaned to talk to him. I went close to hear what he was asking. "Is there anything good," he asked, " the dead man did in his life time?" The man who was crying shook his head sadly.

There was a hush as my wife walked into the room. "She looks beautiful," I thought. "YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL" I shouted. She did not hear my words. She had never heard them before, because I had never said them. "GOD," I screamed in agony, "A little more time to do all the things I should have done!"

I watched as they lifted my coffin and carried it to the hearse outside. My dog did not bother getting up from deep sleep. The priest refrained from saying any word about me. They all understood, there was nothing good to say. I turned to say sorry to the man who had the tears. I turned to hug my children. I leaned over to whisper words of love into my wife's ears, and then I looked up and cried, "God, one more chance!"

"You shouted in your sleep," said my wife as she gently woke me up. "Did you have a nightmare?" She looked startled, as I hugged her tight and whispered, "You're beautiful!"