Posts from the “Daily” Category

L’arme de larmy

N: I get a fan club

N: Lainie gets an army

Y: pls make military patches of this immediately

We were meant to plan dinner, but my former colleagues changed it into a call to arms amongst themselves to form Lainie’s Army — Larmy.

I flatly rejected it then because it made me feel awkward and weird. But then some other friends declared they were joining it too and I guess now it’s a thing and I’ve had time to adjust and now I have an army.

I already see how this could come in useful. We were talking about a sexist man and

P: Throw his carcass to the Larmy

Seven recruits today, seven million in a few tweets.


Sitting up in bed, waiting for J to let me know dia dah sampai rumah. I hope she doesn’t forget.

I’ve been a bit skittish since joining the neighbourhood chat group, which delivers a steady stream of information on crimes that could happen to you plz stay safe.

Chinese horoscope says next year will be a good year with Rabbits, and Rams.

I’m also supposed to always be a good match for Roosters so, basically, the whole R section is settled for 2018.

I need to audition Ram and Rabbit friends. Or count Gazel in under the Ram quota? Do these factors affect a Chinese fortune?

Bukan macam I percaya sangat pun. Prefer reading my tarot cards 😄

When I cry, I just tell myself at least it’s a sign I’m not a sociopath. Some wounds I don’t realise are there, but I only have to glance to bring up some tears.

So many phases and key learning moments in adulthood. Being in my 30s has been fantastic for introspection and understanding my self through my contexts.

A part of me worries one day I’ll miss some key insight and grow old without realising I missed some important adulting along the way. Or worse, that it’s already happened.

I like building new habits. I’m glad JC shared her experiences with me.

Finally going to give skincare a proper try. I’ve already hit three consecutive days of (pointless?) moisturising, about as much as I’ve done in a decade.

Maybe I should have stuck to morning woodcarving instead.

Maybe I should get tattoo sleeves and it’ll cover up my keratosis pilaris. But only after I’ve covered myself with secret tattoos. I like that my current tattoos aren’t so easily seen by others, but I’ll run out of space one day.

I dun geddit

Being interrogated by a trans man on why I won’t date trans men:

  • Me: because I’m a lesbian?
  • Him: but do the genitals really matter?
  • Me: *blank*

We were already on the way out, so I awkwardly just let it slide and left the conversation behind the door.

But. I mean.

I don’t want to say anything definitive about genitalia in relation to womanhood precisely because of non-binary people and trans women, but……surely……most trans men genitalia…..would be more familiar territory….for most lesbians…

Found an old brainfart from 2014

Things that randomly pop up in my mind while I shower — The Intellectual Olympics:

1. Flexibility Contest. Anyone who can touch their toes gets a prize.

2. Shame Shame Book Problem. Owner of largest collection of unread books wins a prize. Consolation prize for whoever has largest collection of (read) guilty pleasure books (I think it should be called the Janet Evanovich Award. Or the John Grisham Win. Or both. The John Evanovich Prize.)

3. Best Neutral Face. Everyone gets to listen to a very problematic, long speech about our nation. Winner keeps a face free of scorn, disgust, puzzlement or any expression asides from peaceful contemplation for the longest.

4. Best Radio Voice. Whoever comes up with the silliest thing to say in the soothiest radio voice.

5. Contrary Awards: Best quip of the night, Oscar Wilde style.

6. Sourpuss Contest: Who has the best grumpy dour face

7. Most enTitled Award: Whoever can name the most books by one Malaysian author, published locally. Amir Muhammad and other local book publishers not allowed to compete, but…

8. Biggest Book Contest: for book publishers — Whoever publishes the biggest volume (H x W x L) wins a block of wood carved like the book.

9. The Wizard of Oz: the video game competition.

10. The Marathink Prize: Whoever can hold the “thinking man” position the longest while balanced on one foot.

11. and the most popular event will be — Boozehound: Wine Drinking Competition.

12. The Grand Prize — whoever successfully manages to avoid all the prizes, but still got dragged to the event, gets the grand trophy.

Is this about my feelings or what

At the end of my dream I left a huge grounds that sold ‘wild’ fish. I had jumped into one expecting shallow waters but discovered a surprising depth of thick viscosity.

I was in a stadium with swimming competition. As I left, in the bleachers, I saw Jac and some of her international colleagues. I was on a platform that was rolling away slowly sideways, so I pointed at her, confused and said ‘Eh’, she grinned, and that was when I saw her friends and realised she must be showing them around. I wanted to leave so I didn’t stay back to talk to her, but Ez and I walked out together for a part of it. It was a bit kecoh.

I am outside the school waiting for my ride. My driver Hussein is four hours late, although I’ve been occupying myself sufficiently and checking my cellphone for notifications. I look at our last WhatsApp, and it’s from me: ‘come no, come no’ which I rationalise should obviously be ‘come now, come now’ to the reader, although at the back of my mind I know if it’s read as ‘don’t come’, it’ll be my fault. I call my mother and she says Hussein demanded wages of RM2.5k a week and so he had to be let go. I was upset that I had been left to wait for hours for him without any notice, but she brushed it off.

I am in my grandfather’s house. It is dim. It is the house from recurring dreams, but without the hauntedness*

*I was so confident I would remember the rest, but now I have no idea what happened. Dammit, Lainie. Why you liddis.

I am Captain Planet

My first superpower is putting something down and immediately losing it.

My second superpower is breaking up with somebody despite us never dating.

My third superpower is eating in my car.

A friend asked whether I was excited for the new Star Wars movie. It was meant to be inane conversation, but I ended up taking it seriously and it did throw me off.

I grew up in a Star Wars childhood. Read all the novels, consumed, collected, invested; literally had the trilogy playing on the video recorder every day when I got home from school. Until this day I still have a fondness for the Hildebrant brother as a result of their artwork on SW collectible cards.

Then the franchise was ruined with the return of George Lucas. And now, all the hours and memories I’ve invested into the universe is no longer canon.

I appreciate this new freedom, this awareness that to follow the new direction of SW is to re-invest along a similar trajectory. I realise now that the new SW and what it represents has little ROI for me, I already have the nostalgia value and that won’t change.

It’s made me reconsider my relationship with other characters from my childhood — superheroes trademarked and copyrighted, like little money soldiers for faceless corporations. Even beyond comics, sometimes it’s hard to separate the books I’ve read from the films they’ve birthed.

In the end, I told him I wasn’t excited. Sure, i would maybe watch the latest SW film. Wouldn’t make any particular effort. Won’t keep track of set gossip, progress reports or fan theories.

I am more keen on the worlds that exist when everyone has a hand in designing and creating them — in the realms of fan fiction, I suppose. I don’t necessarily want to read fan fic, I just don’t want to live in a world of tight copyrights.

Which makes me feel a bit guilty about the copyright on my own works. I am somewhat assuaged by the fact that I’ve also contributed a fair bit to copyleft, but by design and not by default.