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“Luck is always on my side but that luck is bad.” Not a cliché but a phrase that is brilliantly created by King. After living through the baddest day, the succeeding days were less dreadful but still enervating. He came so near to tears yet so far. Anger got to his nerves yet react he could not. His armor gets stronger day to day.

In his Menu, to break dullness is one of his favorites. Being a Daytona driver for a considerably long period, for the very 1^st time, he sought to be ordinary like most people, driving with solely one leg.

Rather, it was his 1^st day ‘driving’. The days before, he was a ‘Daytona player’ fooling with his car. Asked whether he has got a license, he will not be too willing to show. Not because he doesn’t have one. But his pic ain’t a good sight. People always say to me: “You have got Kopi-O-license”.

Being an ‘ambidextrous’ driver, I call myself so because I use both legs to drive an automatic car; I seriously have no idea why people solely use their right leg to operate the brake and accelerator. When I was learning to drive a manual with an instructor beside me, I did not like it at all to shift my leg around. Isn’t it very uncomfortable to have your foot’s position exchange all the time?

Using both legs, I find it convenient because one leg is accountable for one function. The right is to accelerate while the left is to brake. Right to accelerate and left to brake. So simple! But using one leg, you actually have to switch from one side to another and sometimes if your reflex is not fast enough, bang! But I have thought to myself long and deep whether my way of driving has got bad implications.

Some people say that if you drive with both legs, you may accidentally step on the accelerator in times of emergency instead of the brake. But for so long I’ve been driving, that has not happened even accidents almost occurred. I always managed to brake well. On the contrary, I feel that using single leg to drive will cause that instead. Because in emergency, your foot is on the paddle and to stop, you would carelessly accelerate more so that you crash into some other people’s vehicle.

Some people say if you drive with both legs you will spoil the car because you may step on both the brake and accelerator simultaneously. That has never happened to me. I always lift one leg and let the other bury. And if the other buries, another would lift.

Today, when I drove with one leg, I realized that using the same leg to brake and accelerate would be tiring if it is a long distance drive. Furthermore, using the right leg to brake is not as powerful as using the left one. The left leg is strong enough to brake the car fast and bring it to a halt in no time. Even at close distance with the car in front, the left leg can brake the car instantaneously. But with the right leg, today I had to brake very far away before the car really slowed down. The left leg is superior. My boo who tried driving with both legs agrees that the left leg is more powerful.

People always link the right part of human’s body to the left brain while the left to the right brain. The right brain controls the artistic side of us such as drawing and music whereas the left controls the logical side of us such as arithmetic and reasoning ability. When people drive, they use their right leg so they are using their left brain only, which controls the logic. I, being a both-leg driver use both brains. Am I multi-tasking doing that? Because with one leg responsible for one function, I am actually using both brains at one time. Why are girls so good at multitasking? Because they are naturally sophisticated in using both brains at one time. But most guys are failures at multitasking because they can only use one side of the brain at one time. As such, they are good at specialization. I accelerate with my right leg (left brain) so I accelerate logically. But I brake with my left leg (right brain) so I actually brake artistically. I am such a dangerous driver because I do not brake logically. Yet I look so cool and artistic when I brake.

Using both legs does have advantages. You get to brake easily although you are near a moving vehicle in front. Besides that, your legs muscles would be proportionately exercised and fatigue of one leg would be prevented. Furthermore, you brake and accelerate faster with both legs. Also, you work both your minds. The only disadvantage is the potential difficulty to adapt to manual cars.

So, be an ordinary man or continue being a Daytona driver? I will flexibly be both. Whatever field I get involved in, with basketball as the best instance, I always do it my unorthodox way. I guess certain things I have to do it the conventional method or at least know how to do it the ‘traditional’ way. I must begin with the universal or general method before sipping into the aperture of my very original or self centered or creative way of doing things no matter how much I support free style and fuck rules and ideologies.

Because of years of undisciplined sleeping habit, I decided to break the dullness and retire early yesterday. As expected, I rose during the wee hours of morning. But I did not shake off the drowsiness. I immersed into the deepest of my dream. It was a pleasant and warm morning as after a few days of bugging, especially in the mornings, I was once left undisturbed.

I woke up, with no plan for the day except at night. I called my boo and asked her whether she wanted to date me. Of course she wanted.

It was a relaxing day. I did not have to rush. I took my time sprucing up. When my boo reached my house, it was just when I had got myself ready. Smugly, I hopped into her car, thinking that an exhilarating day was ahead.

But something popped up in my mind and of course, it was rubbish again. Trash is always so hard to send to the recycle bin. Last time, I would say: “I wanna clear some lousy thoughts”. But now I would say: “I wanna perfect my thoughts”. Both are same anyway. Past incidents that are blood boiling and heart aching will never die. They come without warning. Even when they do, you’d have a hard time fighting them. I was fighting it hard in 1U when my boo and I were at a Thai restaurant.

The restaurant turned pitch black. Apparently, the entire 1U’s electricity supply was cut. Fortunately, our main dishes were able to be delivered. But an extra plate for both of us to share, due to no electricity, did not arrive. Paid our bill and about to leave the premise, 1U came alive. Everyone cheered. I decided to cut my hair today so I got to Michael and Guys.

I requested a modern hair cut. Whatever style was left to the senior hairstylist to frustrate about. It was surprisingly a normal hair cut. He helped me wash my hair at the sink. My neck was splittingly painful because I had to bend much. He kept asking me to sit higher so that I wouldn’t have my shirt wet. My neck had no support dropping off the chair. It was snapping!

He asked if I wanted to highlight. Maybe he would make me look real stylish. The lady came over to announce the price- 150. I bargained to 100, saying that a friend used to come with me, paying about 100 for haircut, hair wash and highlight. She agreed. It was done quite quickly, with the help of steamer. But the result was that the colour was not noticeable with my existing beige. 100 bucks is exorbitant to me.

When I was a kid, I would follow my dad to an Indian’s barber shop. I would end up crying sometimes because the barber did not make me a handsome boy. It only cost 5-7 bucks those times. When I was going trough trauma because of a broken relationship for the 1^st time, I visited a barber shop again. Yes, like the old times, I shaved my head bald. It cost 10.

There was a transitional period whereby I stopped following my dad but mom to salons. I would follow my mom to her salon for aunties to have my hair cut. My mom switched salons all the time so god knows how many aunties had touched my hair. But a hair cut and hair wash cost 20 over the most. Very seldom did they meet my expectation for haircut. But the hair wash somehow satisfied me. My mind is open. When I get a bad haircut, I wouldn’t cry or grumble. I would wait for my hair to grow longer then the gel would fix it.

100 bucks was a lot to me, plus it turned out nothing special. Was looking forward to Jay’s hairstyle but he made one that is no longer in trend- Beckham’s. And it was the gel that made it so, not the haircut. With the previous hairstyle, I could make the same. The new colour was meshed with the old, making no difference unless you scrutinise it. I dyed my hair myself all this while. Each time only cost 30. Needless to say, I was disappointed. What made me feel real bad was also because those were my angpow money. “Hey you never tried out any modern salon; this is your 1^st time. Now you know how it is like” I cheered myself up. It was an experience after all. I guess my boo’s hand was in mine but I wasn’t there for her.

My boo and I were in an a gift’s shop to shop for her last item before we left. I wanted to pay so I took out my wallet, only to have it slipping through my hands and dropping on the floor. The name cards spread on the floor. I picked them up, crumpling them. My ‘Rain’ calendar was crumpled. So were my name cards. I hate my papers to be crumpled. My mood went badder. “Nevermind. Nevermind.”

I got home with my boo, wanting to change into my new FCUK shirt because at night I had to attend 2 parties. I roughly cleaned up my easily sweat body but it was like forever to my boo to wait downstairs. I went to my mother’s room, opening the book to find no pocket money in it. I got pissed and slammed the book onto the table. I scurried downstairs and blew my fiercest temper.

When I was getting prepared to go to 1U earlier, I asked my younger sister to remind my mother to give me pocket money. In the bathroom, I heard my sister reminding my mom. She would slip pocket money in an exercise book weekly. Then when I was done I went to the book but she did not slip any money. I went to her room to find her asleep so I thought: “Fine. I still have some money”. I drove for a short distance and my boo said she forgot to bring hers. So, instantly I made a U-turn back to my house. I yelled upstairs to my sister, asking her to wake my mother up to give me pocket money. My sister refused because it was not nice to spoil my mother’s nap. “Afterwards when I come back I want to see the money in my exercise book”. It was my second time asking my sister to remind my mother. With no choice, I scampered to my room upstairs and withdrew more angpao money. If she gave me pocket money, I wouldn’t have had to take the trouble to go home.

When I returned, the money was still not found in the book. I strode down and screamed for my money. I already asked twice for it. In fact, the day before, I reminded her that it was end of the month and she was supposed to give me my pocket money. She slowly made her way up and down. My body was already oozing sweat in that FCUK long sleeves.

I drove a separate car with my boo because after the 1^st party I had to attend a 2^nd one without my boo. Also, my boo could go straight home after hers. As soon as I left, I realised the bag of gift wasn’t in my car. But my boo was so fast cutting corners, as if she wanted to get off my sight badly. She was supposed to lead the way. I flashed her with high lights, putting on the double signal then one. She noticed I presume but did not slow down or pull over so that I could ask her whether she brought enough gifts to share with me. Being fast and furious, she flew with her Wira, leaving my Elantra struggling to catch up like a helpless GTR chasing after an AE86. Then only at the traffic light, I had to call her. Apparently, her gift was not enough for 2 persons to share. I asked her to go ahead after the traffic lights while I made a turn to go back to my house again.

I was utterly infuriated, not because of my boo, but a bastard who took out the gift from my car. I left the gift at the back car seat the day before and don’t know which busybody took out the bag of mandarin oranges. I sped home, crashing bums all the time. I furiously threw the oranges in the paper bag. Then I scuttled upstairs to search for another paper bag. Couldn’t find any in the cupboard keeping plastic bags. I went into my room, hurriedly grabbed a paper bag and rushed into the car whose engine was still running. This time, sweat was already drenching my new shirt. I took off and turned the air-cond very strong.

At the traffic light, while trying to wear my shirt back, the bus behind me honked. I hate people to honk. For so long I have driven on road, I almost met accidents but never used the honk more than 3 times. At the Kerinchi toll, damn those coins! So many 20 and 10 cents. It slowed me down. Nevertheless, I did not have much difficulty looking for the destination. I was still half naked when I reached.

I asked the owner where the other Monash friends she invited. She said that none of them was coming.

“I thought there is a party?”

“No. they can’t make it today”.

My heart sank deeper. My boo and I were the sole visitors. I travelled so fast and so far to be greeted by such news. If the party was cancelled I could go to her house other time. Not at that hour, not when another party would clash. Why didn’t she tell me about it? If those friends were coming another day, why didn’t she tell me? I could go together with them one fine day. I certainly didn’t go all the way for the angpao. “Empty your mind. Empty your mind” That’s how I always perfect my thoughts.

After a while, I left with my boo. My boo was following me to the 2^nd party. This time, I led the way. Like a GTR I zoomed the straight road with tremendous velocity. The Wira was no match at all. At the toll, however, my boo has Smart tag so she did not slow down a lot. I only got coins in abundance. All 20 and 10 cents that I had to use my fingertips to extract. She was like Takumi drifting the curve smoothly, dragging the distance. I was behind again. Suddenly, both of us got into the next level of game. The heaven opened. Vision was obscure. The road was slippery. At the toll, she passed again but without my knowledge this time. I passed mine, looking for her. Dunno whether she was behind or front because the rain was pretty heavy. Not long after I found her, in front. Did she need me to guide? Why had she have to pass the toll so fast?

What a bad day. The rain was raining so heavily. How was my friend gonna prepare the BBQ sets? Everyone had to squeeze in the house, I thought. The rain was subsiding but my mood did not. I turned into the right road and was looking for a crowded house. I think I overshot. So I made a U-turn and found the right house. I was astonished by the desertedness. There was no sign of partying. The curtains tightly veiled the windows. I suspected something wrong. So I gave the owner a call.

“Harlo? Is the party today?”

“Nooo! It’s on this Saturday.”

I vomited blood. The blood sprinkled on the car front window. My neck went loose and head hit the honk. The honk blared throughout the whole neighbourhood and people drew the curtain, both annoyed and shocked. That did not happen. I just punched my window and the glass smashed into smithereens. That did not happen either. My mood got badder. That did happen. My heart plunged to the stomach. Then my boo and I decided to go to 1U again to catch a movie.

At the traffic light, I was honked the 2^nd time when it turned green light. I was pissed.

The parking lot, as usual, was packed. I always make a round then proceed to another area. Today, I made one round but mistakenly made a wrong turn so that I got back to that long queue. I was devastated. My boo was following me and she must have wondered why I got into that same circle again. After another debilitating round, I made sure I did not make the same mistake. I went to the highest floor, only to realize that parking was not easy to find either. I screeched the wet floor angrily. Another round of fruitless search and I was gonna burst. Then I saw a small path leading to the open air. It seemed that some cars were illegally parking there. When I got there, they were legitimate parking places. I tried to back park in between cars. The car alarm beeped. I reversed. I banged my car against the concrete wall. Stunned I was, by my own parking skill. I did not know that my car was already so near the wall. What could be worse than this?

I reluctantly got out of the car. No dent. But small patches of paint were chipped off. Each scratch was scars in my heart. Later on, I parked somewhere else with my boo’s car beside. My boo came in and I hugged her for comfort. Then we went in to meet friends who bought us tickets.

Only after I took the escalator down did I discover that I forgot to bring my parking ticket. Wearily, I took the lift up and plodded down again. I went to the lavatory. There was no water. I had to sneak into the prayer’s room to get some water.

The cinema was a community with an overwhelming majority of Christians. Too many crosses on neck were emanating Jesus’ power. The devil couldn’t get me. I was protected from the god of death. Although I am an atheist or Satanist, when bad things happen, it is more suitable to say: “Oh God!” instead of “Oh Satan!”.

When I reached home, there was nothing better than writing all these down. I was too depressed to pour my feelings out to my boo. I did not want to vent my rage on anyone. Nor as a man, did I want to break down in tears. I started blogging at 11.45p.m. and have come so far until 5.30a.m. babbling about every single misfortune that befell me. It was a suffocating day as I was not given time to perfect my thoughts. One incident succeeding another that brought me down to my knees.

And I can’t believe I am writing so long. How come school assignments seem so tough to meet the word quota? How come time passes by so fast? 1 month of 2006 is gone. But a baddest day is not a baddest day, because a baddest day would be me not being able to even blog about this on account of a power failure or pc problem.