i only do old and unattractive

Tired, knackered, pooped, fatigued, run-down.

I just got back from Nilai 3, yes you heard it right the first time. Nilai 3. Where busloads of rombongan cik kiah flock hundreds of shops selling all sorts of things from carpets to wedding paraphernalia to electrical items. Don't ask me why I was there. All I can tell you is that this is hari raya-related and this is supposed to elevate my financial situation a bit come Aidilfitri. 'Nuff said.

On a more leisurely note, I went to the Mont Kiara Jazz Fest on Friday night since a friend has a table reserved at Chakri Palace. (Note: I won't go if there are no reserved tables ok, sorry la. I really need the comfort and peace of mind when I watch any live performances ) The first session for the nite was Arthur Kam & Vitalique - they were quite cool. Sheila Majid came out at 11pm which was the second session.

Here's my love-hate thing about Sheila Majid.

I find her somewhat annoying IN SOME WAYS. First, her voice is so-so. Ordinarily so-so. Oklah better than mine la kan, but I dunno...she just came out at the right time I guess. Second, everyone keeps referring to her as Ratu Jazz Malaysia. WTF. Although she does sing some jazz numbers in her live shows, she is so bloody commercial pop. Tapi kasi can lah kan... like I said, she came out at the right time - when Malaysia was devoid of any exclusive, jazzish, female singer. Huh, mampus gue if Sheila Majid baca blog ni. Perasan.

However ladies n gents, she's got a lotta good evergreen songs that have been my personal favourite la since the day she came out with that Dimensi Baru album. And I think I have almost all of her albums save for the later ones. Tak malu kan. Y'all might say, tadi kutuk-kutuk, now I'm gushing over her songs. No doubt, her songs are phenomenal la.

Oh one more thing before I forget. At the Jazz Fest I was introduced by Hani to this really amazingly hot guy. He's tall, slim, fair, 40 (oh, the perfect age to be when you're a guy), bespectacled and a freaking LAWYER. Gasp. He looks pan-asianish - a mix between a typical iranian and zinadine zidane. His first name sounds like my last name. Written in the stars kot. Let's just call him Z and here's an amusing anecdote. We started chatting and then I realized he's got a bit of an Indian twang in his speech. And when I asked of his suku sakat he said "I'm very much Indian". And being the very bad liar that I am, I suddenly paused and had that ???? looked on my face. "But your last name doesn't sound Indian at all." He gave a megawatt smile and said, "Why? Never dated an Indian man before? Are you being racist?" I quickly retorted, "Hhrmph! You lawyers are all so defensive!" To which he replied, "Offense is the best form of defense!"

Lawyers.

I heaved a sigh of relief when later I was told that he IS in fact a Muslim. A bit of consolation probably?

Z's last words to me were, "Email ya, email..." as he rushed off with this boss. He's based in Singapore okay, in case you guys are wondering apasal pulak dia suruh e-mail ni, apasal tak boleh have coffee ke, lunch ke. And he might be coming for next week's Jazz Fest show too.

Here's the thing, I find him too good looking to talk to. I'm not lying ok, he is so super super super super good looking. Next time I should take a picture of him - he looks like he just stepped out of GQ magazine (hyperventilate). I just feel like saying, "Can I just look at you and not say a word? And please don't ever open your mouth because as soon as your Indian slang comes out, akak macam turn off."

Hani has booked a table for us 1 September, and Z might be coming again. And I'm invited again. But honestly, Z is only as good as he looks. There's no heart-skipping-a-beat moment like with you know who la kan. Or maybe I'm just attracted to unattractive old men with sexy protruding bellies after all.

Does that last sentence just made me sound like a sicko?