in one breath

running busy again.

this whole week, the new yorker spent her time with vince, turtle, e, drama, the casts of guy ritchie’s snatch and daniel craig — ari is busy running the empire — to nurse a broken heart. there was that high fever and high emotion, and spending three hundred bucks online within a particular thursday morning. a bff told her to get more new clothes before M told her to do so and just like that, the new yorker will have seven pieces being delivered by next week. retail therapy is the best antidote. one quote of the same bff the new yorker lives by, “takde duit pun buat-buat macam ade” which is not practical — it’s like the shopaholic who works as a financial advisor as per movie starring isla fisher (i don’t read the shopaholic series, i read this on wikipedia). one new yorker’s quote that new yorker’s aunt lived by, “bulan ni belum guna (kad kredit) lagi” which is actually practical for her aunt anyway who could afford a pair of fifteen hundred ferragamo shoes whenever she wants one. debt begets debt. on tuesday, new yorker came to realize that she promised lunch for a guyfriend right around this week, but due to unforeseen physical and mental illness and lots of running around… she failed to contact him to set a date. this has to be done asap, it is ultraimpolite to be flaky although the new yorker channels lauren blount, the ultimate flaky girl. after all, the guyfriend gave new yorker a most delightful ice cream date: there was a call, an invitation, a european made car rides, a hella good time catching up, graciously picked up and sent home, a few sms-es after with a thank you note and future lunch invitations. now, that’s a date, you neanderthals — men are not allowed to be flaky on top of their common rudeness. on wednesday new yorker flopped on the sofa watching the umpteenth time of FRIENDS rerun — this episode the part when chandler proposed to monica — loving the scene when joey wailed, “are you guys done yet? we’re dying out here!!!” as much as the scene of the other episode when rachel has to go to paris and joey is ready to jumped off the balcony after their one-to-one. on the next slot, the new yorker experienced female jealousy towards a danya alhamrani, the first female saudi arabian film maker (something like that) that was chosen by anthony bourdain (why not moiiii???) out of thirteen hundred submissions to tell him why he has to come over to the place they recommended. the new yorker thinks danya is unoriginal since she has never eaten camel herself and only does her first time with tony. if it were the new yorker, she’d dragged tony to jln 223, go to a malay wedding, come over to her mum’s uncle’s after tazkirah supper, and eat telur ikan mayong masak gulai lemak cili api… among others — it’s all about comfort food. on thursday, the new yorker sent her mum to tabung haji to see a dear friend who’s departing for Mekah — nat geo calls tabung haji as the most organized hajj system in the world. the new yorker recalled one time when she was waiting at the traffic light during her drive to an exam paper, the police motorcycles came in twos to halt the traffic — meaning making the way for someone vvvip. the new yorker bated her breath with anticipation, expecting a long black car snaking through followed with black clad men on superbikes by the side but what she saw was bus after bus after bus after bus and more followed by an ambulance, a special mpv and police car (i think) filled with the people being invited by HIM to come to Mekah. how sayu the sight was, the heart was sooo felt, it brought a tear to the new yorker’s eyes. afterwards, new yorker’s mum treated the family to a mc d supper. the new yorker chose the madagascar meal, and came to realized that mc d really sucks — the chicken burgers were hard, not crispy on the outside and tender on the inside — and eventually understands why tony never appreciates burger king (soon, perhaps i will be too, looking forward to try wendys and carls jr but money’s spent on the wools). on friday, the new yorker called one of her girlcuzns and the new yorker realized how much fun it always is talking to her. the girlcuzn greeted the new yorker, “hello katy perry!” (the girlcuzn’s caller ringtone is katy perry’s hot n cold). they dished about being-singles-club (self-invites), discussing one-facial-expression pets like rabbit and fish (cuzn: if you want to get the baby rabbit, can they talk to you like cats always do?), deciding which telecom operator gives the jimat-est deal (think shopaholic as financial advisor), and the new yorker misses her girlcuzn more than ever as they hung up (was in a pet shop buying iams for the kitz and the shopkeeper starting to eye on the new yorker suspiciously as the new yorker was also holding two cans of science diet but have not paid — brought in a huge birkin). later in the evening, the new yorker is heading uptown and will be spending the night at the mentioned earlier in this entry bff’s house and continuously wonders how would she survive during this same bff’s absence from dec til february — bff leaving for aussie — as the bff is one of the new yorker’s voice of reasons when the new yorker needs toughening up… later worry. she’s looking forward to the chilling session and for another bff’s futsal tournament on saturday where the new yorker just wants some girly-supporting-cheerleading stuff to do and menhunting on the sides — usually, menhunting comes first, and this is scouting among fortune 500 — if hooked, it’s a bonus. then there’s the whatsoever with M — which is also supposedly on saturday (M: i thought we had that deal on saturday?) — that new yorker haven’t come around to tell him that she will be at the place where her bff is playing futsal, being among those fortune 500 men which actually works with M as well… if he ever wakes up anyway, later worry. and the drinks with another set of bff-s, if it could happens on saturday night — very looking forward, dying to talk about the jakarta trip again. come sunday, the new yorker’s mum wants to take a look at a friend’s daughter’s cafe to see if the new yorker’s mum could put up cookies for sale. word has it that the funny guy harith frequents there… that’s because he lives somewhere there — what la!, the new yorker recalled what her bff told her.

and that is all.