absolutely delish.

some indian call man in his selipar buruk and pajamas was on the scene in 5 minutes, forcing me to wave the perodua auto assist booklet around in the car like a tourette’s patient.

was so stunned, i called mr. music to ask him… who to call.

broke an axle, blew [another] rim and of course the tyre has gone back to the rubber plantation in the sky.

repairs have dented my wallet, but i’m surprisingly more upset that my baby got injured. yeah, i’ve developed an emotional attachment to my car. sue me.

sure, i want to do something great. who doesn’t? but it doesn’t help when i haven’t defined it. no, i do not want to write the next malaysian novel based in a quaint little mining town or some horrible adolescent trash masquerading as child prodigy literature. i just want to do something that i will look back on and think “now holy shit, that was awesome, wasn’t it?” what is success? is it to be rolling in dough, supporting my family? winning international awards? getting married and settling down?

there must be other things out there to do but for some reason i’m stumped. what else can i do? i write ads, think of ideas to sell stuff, build brands, create awareness. and then we reach the end of the road. what else do i know how to do?

i don’t know.

so i turned a year older some time last week. it always seems a little preposterous that this day is supposed to be some climax/culmination of a whole year’s worth of personal and professional growth. i didn’t feel particularly grown-up last week as compared to the previous 364 days. and after my midnight antics, i felt anything but wiser. :p

i think 2008 was awesome. new friends. new job. new horizons and the like. my life is quiet and boring for the most part, and i like it that way seeing as how i’m no longer the hard-nosed evil bitch if i ever was one to begin with (no thanks to random chinese whispers).

i like growing up. strangely enough i was always hankering to be “grown up”.

when i was 15, i thought ma should lighten up on her curfew because i was old enough. at 18 i wanted to move out and live life without parental restrictions because i was mature enough. i looked down my nose at 19-year-old “kids” when i graduated from college. i was such a child i imagined i was older, better, smarter, wiser than everyone else. it’s a trend that will live on; a belief that living a couple of decades entitles young ‘uns to faux world-weariness and to spout badly-written diatribes about how jaded and cynical life has made them.

me, i’ve realised how much more there is for me to experience (and if i’m lucky, to learn). i haven’t eaten enough salt to whine about how bad life is and how it’s gotten me down.

i’m 25 now and i’m still just a kid. a label that’s hopefully still good for a long time more. like you said, age is just a number, right, sayang? xxx

so recently i have sort of upgraded/merged my policies. it’s a bit complicated with changing agents, canceling the medical card but maintaining the PA, applying for Life this month (while i’m 25) and waiting for the roadshow in january to get the best of both worlds on the new medical card.

admittedly i signed up with this company because a) i understand the workings thanks to 6 months as a personal assistant b) i actually believe in it.

but my lifestyle has put me in an awkward position: unable to get coverage for any asthma-related illnesses and classified as “high risk” which means a higher premium.

they will reconsider me if i go 4 years without a single attack, but judging from the 20+ ciggies i smoke a day, i’d say there’s little chance i go 6 months without incident. well, i can just take my seretide + transfer factor combination and hope for the best lor.