2009, Tweeted
December 31, 2009

January 2009: Fireworks at the banks of River Chao Phraya... "2009 will be the year, @flyikkyfly. It will."

February 2009: The Big Pink & Zhin, reborn. Brown Black Blues 40th Anniversary. Got our mojo working with the best audience ever.

March 2009: Jakarta dan Bandung with MRSMPC schoolmates. 10 years since we first met and collectively hate Badol... 'til today.

April 2009: Turning 26. Perhaps the biggest b'day bash I'll ever have. Thanks @izzudinabrahim, @syahrizan, @razzario and @flyikkyfly. Love.

May 2009: Hanoi, Vietnam. Binging on pho overlooking the quaint French colonial buildings while talking about life with Freddie Kelate.

June 2006: The Big Pink became Fed Hi. You know what it means. Some of you go through it everyday, to work. EP recording project begins.

July 2009: Lost my laptop after some asshat broke into the house. Drafts of materials gone. Only to be found yesterday at the office PC.

August 2009: I forgot what happened in this month. @razzario was still not funny that's for sure.

September 2009: Lost my voice after going berserk at Safiz Hartamas when Adebayor ran 100m down the pitch to show some love to the Arses.

October 2009: EPL Premier Skills. Sprained ankle, twisted knee, burned skin and loved it. Joined the Subang Jaya Community Youth League.

October 2009: How could I forget. My first acoustic gig with Imran as Flattops. Daikanyama, Changkat BB. Lovely, lovely audience. You rule.

November 2009: Sabah with the Godbros. Islands, beaches, mountains and jungles. Malaysians, please go there. Thanks @syahrizan and family.

December 2009: @azaliasuhaimi :-)

2009 is the year then, @flyikkyfly.

It's A Bit Like Being A Male Nurse
December 18, 2009

Long weekends. You have to love them.

An extra day off for you to treasure and cherish for it only comes as often as Bar Mitzvahs in China. Plus few could surpass the joy of waking up to your alarm clock and throwing it away instantly.

Well at least for three minutes. Before the SpongeBob theme ("SpongeBob SquarePants! SpongeBob SquarePants! SpongeBob SquarePants! SpongeBob… SquarePants!") blares out of the TV, flushing away your deep slumber before you could even puff out your final snore.

Enter cousin sleepover.

It was the school holidays. And just any other breaks, our household will host arguably the biggest Barbie showcase in the country; dwarfing those you’d usually see at the malls. You know, the endless racks of pink boxes stacking on top of each other into walls of magical fairies and dainty princesses that would apparently scare parents just as the Sun -- of all things -- would on the pale vampires of Twilight.

Chaired by my sisters and attended by our cousins, whose cumulative age is barely half of mine, the gathering would be an elaborate celebration of the dressing and undressing of 11.5-inch tall plastic figures in their room, where the slightest sight of me, is forbidden. Unless I feel like stepping on miniature stilettos and cursing as I run away from their flying hairbrushes.

And hangers.

At other times though, i.e. when they need a ride to the mall, I'm more welcomed into their domain than the entire cast of High School Musical combined. Which is not too bad actually. It’s not everyday that you get to go out with six Hannah Montanas. And listen to Taylor Swift (and maybe sing a bit) in the car. And argue how Toy Story 3 won’t be out until June. And wait in front of Forever 21 for an hour. And explain to staff there how "No, I’m not a male nanny."

They bring me back, however. They do.

To the days when I would hide in the kitchen whenever I was at my cousins’. With hope that my parents would somehow, eventually, leave for home only to realize later that I wasn’t with them. And, for some other awesome reason, decided to leave me to continue playing with my cousins at their place for another week. Not to mention allowing me to not shower during the period. And maybe, you know, send in Geoffrey the Giraffe to shower us with a bagful of Ninja Turtles.

Which is quite sad if it was, actually, the case… the forgetting about me part. Geoffrey and the Turtles are good.

None of it ever happened. For most of the time I’d be dragged into the car. And sent right into the shower later.

So, girls -- yeah, I know some of you are reading -- be thankful that your parents are kind enough to let you do sleepovers and have fun together. Even if it’s at the expense of me waking up at 7am to Miley Cyrus belting out "Best of Both Worlds". (How do you even wake up that early anyway?)

For back then, things were a bit tougher on us. Apart from hiding in the storeroom, we had to, at times, pretend to be asleep, not without a pitiful posture, expecting our parents to go, "Aw, look at him dozing off all tired with Optimus Prime in his hands and half a candy still in his mouth..."

"...well not this time, mister. Wake up, we’re taking off."


Photography by Azalia Suhaimi

  • Asrif, b. 1983
  • Subang Jaya, Malaysia
  • asrifomar[@]gmail[.]com
Published Travels Archive
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Malaysia License.