Ok, ok, my blog reader (notice it is singular?) asked why I never update my blog. I didn’t do it because I was always so busy.

If I am not doing regular work, I will be doing online work. If I am done with that, I also have to do housework. Actually, I don’t do housework, just that my relative was sick and she couldn’t come for over a week. Hence, moss is growing and I have no choice but to clear the jungle.

So, why exactly people wants to come by huh? I am so irregular now. I mean my blog post, not my period. That one still like our payday, very constant. If that goes irregular, means I am about to menopause already. *horrors!*

Anyway, since I know I still have all but one reader, let me relate what I did today. I super tulan with some hot shot property company. Actually, it started like this.

I got to the place, being like 5 mins from home. The guards pointed me to the wrong location. Asked me to get down from my car, far away and walk. As usual, my backpack is darn heavy and with the tripod, under the hot sun, dusty construction site and all, I obediently did because two guards told me that’s the place. I was suspicious because I can’t seem to find any familiar faces around.

Only after I got there, another guard told me it is not. The VIPs will go to this place later on.

So, all sweaty, furious, I walked back to my car and drove further. Imagine noon day sun, extra bright and humid. I cannot understand why the organiser cannot put the exact location of the event. I am extra pissed because the guards acted like they are police. Kept shouting, Masuk sana, masuk sana even when I was suspicious they are wrong. Blardy hell.

So, I got the right place. Again, heavy backpack, hot sun, tripod, walking. I got in and as usual, like 1001 times I did before, I signed the media register. They asked for my phone number but I super kwailan said I don’t want to give. They asked for my namecard, I where got extra pair of hands to dig out, right? I flashed my badge.

So, they gave me a paper bag. Like 1001 times before, these usually contain one miserly mug, some fancy schmancy folder with their corporate details. I need basic info so I usually dig the papers and throw the folder away because I have no extra pair of hands to carry one miserable mug in a big paper bag, ok?

Ok, I took the paper bag, find a sofa and started to assemble my gadgets. Extend tripod, making sure all the joints are secure, get out my video camera, check the white balance…while at the same time still fuming at the incompetent guards who caused me to waste time.

One silly pink shirt girl walked up to me and told me, “Sorry this bag (pointing to the CCB bag) is for press. You are from CM office.” And I was at boiling point. I told her, “Yaaa….I am from CM’s office…” You know giving her the sneer, like ‘You mean CM people not welcome issit?’

She said she need to take it back. I tell you, I wanted to smack her already for being so silly. I said, “I am a video journalist, if I don’t have your press kit, how am I to report?”

She got frightened because my face changed already.

I continued meddling with my video camera.

Another came to me. This time, in uniform. I presume higher level than the silly girl. She carried a windmill like those kids’ toy. She said, “I give you this windmill, I take back the bag.” I told her, “I only want the press release because I will need to know the names and things like that. But never mind, take back everything, I am not going to report anymore.”

She still want to give me the farking RM2 windmill with their Seri Tanjung logo. I told her, “You expect me to promote your company for you?” and gave her a dirty look.

Good thing before I can rant to my media friends, Faridah Merican came up to me and chit chat.

By the time boss arrived, I was still pissed so I decided whatever corporate matters can go to hell. I love Actors’ Studio and will do only that part. Your big boss can boast all he wants about how many millions he donated, I am not going to record. I am not obliged to do any promotion for corporate companies.

Then after the usual thing, we had to be ferried by bus to the place where I was shown by the guards. My male colleagues kacau me, “Lilian…senyum lah sikit….” I told them, “Tak mau, geram tau.”

Later on, we returned to the lunch area. Boss didn’t leave yet. So, I cannot leave. That’s the rule. (my own) I had lunch and guess what? Now, another uniform girl came with the press kit again and wanted to give me again.

WTF? Just you wait. I have asked for their PR Mgr card and will make sure she is aware of what a bunch of silly girls she has there. I wait for my fire to die down first before I make lives difficult for those receptionists. Isn’t it shameful that for a property company that is soooo exclusive is so kedekut with one miserable mug and windmill? I repeatedly told them I need the press release and yet, they kept worrying about the whole paper bag.

Just you wait….