Saturday, August 31, 2002

Happy Merdeka everybody. It's yet another fun National Day, complete with cold weather ( so the clothes refuse to dry ), terrible traffic jams and all the usual parades on television. Yep, it's a little bit of a bore. I'm not exactly Mr. Patriotism. Though I do have better sense than planting a little flag on my car just so that it gets disrespected everytime it rains. So now I'm home, watching 'Wolfen' on my computer while Mich C is back in Ipoh, the Simoniac is shaking his boogie in some hotel and my sister just bought a tub of ice cream. Makes you want to go Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!

Friday, August 30, 2002

The real reason why I'm feeling like shit today is because of my ass. Yes, for no apparent reason, my shit HARDENED and proceeded to give me Hell with a capital 'H' in the toilet. It's still aching now. I think it's time to implement Forlax ( your friendly neighbourhood laxative ) again. I don't know how much more I can take before I lose it. My colleague asked me earlier why I looked so down. I didn't have the heart to give him a detailed report of what I went through in the morning, so I just told him that I was sleepy. Maybe I'll drag him aside and give him the lowdown of what's really happening behind closed toilet doors one of these days. When I'm not feeling so bothered.

Concentration has dropped to yet another all-time low of 0%. It's a bit hard to think when your ass is aching away. It's like "think... ouchouch... think... ouchouch... resume think... ouchaaaaargh...". You know, I think this is how people start going insane.

Thursday, August 29, 2002

Evil hand writes this blog
I now have evil hand issues
This just in: I am NOT dying. Apparently, it was a case of one banana too many. Too many bananas right after a nice meal of large mushrooms couldn't be too healthy.

Anyway, I'm not sleeping yet because it's very noisy downstairs. Some cymbals clashing away. I think it's some prayers for the Chinese 7th Month ( Da Month of Da Ghosts )... although according to Ms. FrostFlakey who's online now, the 7th month worship should be over. Most curious, because I distinctly remember seeing some people putting a lot of paper stuff on the roadside as I was driving back from Mich C's house earlier. Definitely Chinese people, probably prayer materials. And now there're sounds coming from below too. I wonder if anyone on the lower floors can sleep - I can't sleep because of the noise, and I live on the 18th floor.

Actually, it's a beautiful night to be up. It's comfortably cool, the air smells of... hmm, burnt paper, but hey, I'm not sleepy at all. So I load up the MP3s which are nice, slow and soothing and, er, play Diablo 2. Or blog, like what I'm doing now. It's positively appalling that I have to wake up for work tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 28, 2002

Poor Mich C sprained her ankle today, so some ankle massage was in order. The thing is, the liquid I used to massage her ankle is still on my fingers. Major eww, I assure you. Now, after two bananas, I'm almost convinced that I managed to get some of the residue of the liquid in my stomach. My lips burn, so I must have brushed my fingers against it or something. Urgh... queasy stomach. Stomache. Stomach. Stomache. Whichever. Amazing what things bother you when you're potentially going to die during the next 24 hours.

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Raining pretty heavily today. You can tell from the way the light in the office changes - less natural light coming through the blinds, more artificial light from the office lights. It's a bit like night, save for the gloominess outside.

Gloominess. I find it odd how the people I make friends with in the office tend to leave.

The secretary who borrowed my handphone once? Left.
The guy whom I used to have lunch with? Left.
The first guy who used to talk to me when we met out of the office? Left.
The guy on the other side of the water cooler whom I started to get along with? Left.
The nice guy who's been helping me out lately? Leaving.

It's like I'm a curse. Or a blessing to all those people who actually made friends with me. Make friends with this introverted weirdo, and you will get a better job elsewhere. Like when I went to eBX. I came, I saw, people started leaving and getting fired. My timing can be impeccably odd sometimes.

Monday, August 26, 2002

Yes, I was out last night, as my editors would somewhat vehemently agree. The throat infection's a bitch, okay. Amazing how a little thing like that can bring the whole body down. Well, not really down, but it makes one feel shitty. Speaking about which, yesterday morning's Agony In The Toilet was nothing short of amazing. Much wall-pounding and floor-stomping action, complete with a cacophony of swears and curses courtesy of yours truly. I don't know how it happened, but my faeces decided to consolidate themselves into one HUGE FARKING CHUNK the size of the asteroid Bruce Willis blew up in 'Armageddon'. Now that - was horrible.

Today I feel utterly useless. I have this sudden premonition that nothing's going to come out of my life. I sit at my terminal and do the work I'm supposed to do, and I don't feel myself moving forward. In fact, I feel like I'm getting sucked into a black hole of some sort. Suddenly my future - which has always been unclear - is unclear. Clouded the future is. Not that it's been anything else. But for some reason, it's depressing me today. And making me feel utterly useless. Well. Yay. Another step closer to purchasing that bottle of sleeping pills. Embrace the Sweet Oblivion.

To make me feel better, I would like to remind myself that I stepped into some quality dog poo this morning while walking to my office. I went to the toilet to wipe it off with some toilet paper, but the smell is still there, a constant reminder for me to kick any dogs I see on the way home.

Important Shit You Should Know Of The Day:
A Beer Lover's Practical Guide For Losing Weight

Sunday, August 25, 2002

This is a public announcement from the editors of Prosian Thoughts:

Nicholas Prose is currently unavailable as he recovers from:

a) A throat infection complete with free-flowing mucus and painful coughs
b) A tour of Georgetown with Frostflake and Hel
c) A morning's worth of shitting out gigantic boulders of burning flame

Stay tuned for more.

Saturday, August 24, 2002

I was out for twelve hours yesterday. From 8pm to 8am. When I woke up, I no longer felt like dying, but my throat was still a little irritated. A little later, I checked for the little yellow thingy at the back of my throat, but it was gone. I don't know where it went to, but maybe the two gallons of water I drank in the office followed by the excessive amounts of fluids I consumed when I got back home helped. A LOT. It was probably some kind of throat infection brought upon by way too much ice cream. So pay attention kids, and do not consume one cup too many of ice cream when you're watching yet another emotionally moving episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Some people might get away with eating tub after tub of ice cream, but you might be that unfortunate one who develops a bad infection after the first two cups or so.

Anyway, it's already end of day. I can't believe Saturday is almost done. It's so unfair how the week just crawls by while the weekend whizzes by. Just *blink* and that's the end of Saturday. Tomorrow I'll blink even more and suddenly Sunday's done too. Bitching hell, this working life thingy can sometimes be the pits. Two days of downtime really isn't enough when one has to deal with moron managers who're best when they're stating the obvious and making life difficult for everyone else. I wonder how much the company pays them to be first grade assholes. I don't think it's that hard to state the obvious. Heck, I do that all the time. "Oh look, it's raining. Do you think we should use the umbrella?". I do stuff like that all the time FOR FREE, and these shitbrains get paid - and not slave wages like me - to do that for a living. Oh, for a gun, an axe and an hour alone with that bloody Hong Kong manager who's on my kill list at the moment. I'll redecorate the room with his insides.

Friday, August 23, 2002

Oh... GOD. Last night was cream and cookies ice cream overload. Now I'm bloated, my head feels heavy, I feel like shit, there's a sore throat festering in my throat and all I wanna do is lie down and die ( something which I've been wanting to do a lot lately ). Some of that can be attributed to my favourite program - The Late Night Show With Nicholas Prose - this time with Diablo 2 as our recurring guest speaker of the night. But it was the ice cream which probably made that yellow little thingy grow out of the inner part of my throat. I open my mouth wide, and I can actually see it there. In fact, I think it's touching my tongue. Soon swallowing will be a bitch and before you know it, I will be lying down and dying.

Too much ice cream, you see, is bad. Actually, I have it on pretty good authority that too much of anything is bad. Too much food and you don't only get fat, but you might land yourself an indigestion. And if you've been eating pretty solid food like chunks of meat, you'll probably have a wonderful ass-ripping time in the toilet too if you didn't drink enough fluids. Trust me.

And so Angel went to see Buffy in last night's episode of Buffy on Astro ( touching scene, that ), and in the following episode of Angel, Cordelia reminded me of this girl again. I bet she will be jumping around hugging people and lalala-ing too if we got her nice new clothes.

Thursday, August 22, 2002

Angel visits Buffy tonight on Astro! Whee!

Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Bloody headache. Bloody headache is preventing me from thinking right. I don't know how many times I've started on a post today, only to delete it before I can finish the post proper. It's bad when concentration at work is just not there. The pounding in my head is not all that consistent though. It's like BOM BOM BOM and then suddenly the pain's gone. After awhile, the pain comes back and the big band starts playing again. Like now. Ow. I think the cold's aggravating it. Probably the lack of sleep too.

This condition, however, lets me remember stuff which have been long forgotten. Like this morning in the lift. A particular perfume and a white blouse against the bright mirror walls of the lift triggered a really long lost memory of the toilet area of my old deceased doctor's office. And one of the tracks from The English Patient ( incomplete ) which I'm listening to featured a solitary violin. That brought back to me the image of my deceased grandmother's old house, where we could go out to the huge balcony behind and sunbathe on the roof. Well, sunbathing was out of question at the tender age of five, but I remember having a riot writing my name on the walls when I peed.

See, lack of sleep brings forth visions. Visions are not always good - sometimes they can be perplexing. Sometimes they even remind you of the good old days of yore, when you would be sleeping at the ungodly hour of 2.30pm. Farking headache. Bloody headache.

Tuesday, August 20, 2002

Diablo 2 has possessed me again. My sister ran off to her friend's place to print her project stuff last night, so my Amazon walked across Act 2 and kicked Duriel's ass without returning to town at all ("On your knees, wormboy, and worship at my Amazonish altar"). That resulted in her being in Act 3 now, and me almost braindead today due to a serious lack of sleep.

I find Tuesdays to be rather hard. On Mondays, I'm still functioning. Sleepy, yes, but functioning nonetheless. On Tuesdays... OH GOD on Tuesdays, I wake up tired and sleepy. Such has been the case on almost every other Tuesday. Things look up a bit after the morning bath, but everything goes downhill a few hours into work. By 9.30am, I'm shutting down again and I start having these strange visions of really vague stuff, like an old man dressed in a colourful shirt cycling around town. I bet that was actually a dream while I was half-awake.

Now, the Tuesday Syndrome is probably not as prevalent as the Monday Syndrome. Most people, having learned the hard way that Sunday night is not a party night, go to sleep early on Monday night. But I'm not bonded by such insignificant chains. Oh no. Upon finding out that I'm still alive on Monday night after the long day, I proceed to party even more. This brings us to Tuesday - when energy is at its lowest and all I want to do is crawl underneath a big rock and shutdown permanently.

Oh great, the masses ( all eight of them ) are slowly trickling back into the office after lunch. If they would actually disappear until 2pm maybe I'll be able to nap a bit longer. But nooo... not even that will they grant me.

The question now is... will I be cycling around town dressed in a colourful shirt when I'm old? Sigh... the issues which boggle the mind when you're not fully awake.

Monday, August 19, 2002

Welcome to Monday, August 19th, 2002.

The price of sleepiness is constant nodding off at work. And my sleepiness isn't even my fault. These past few nights, my little sister has been busy at work on the computer, typing and printing stuff away. So when the printer decides to stop working, it's Super Brother to the rescue. That's not really a point to get annoyed at though. What irritates me is that I can't play Diablo 2 because of her. Yes, I have issues with that game. I think it's possessed me. It's the only game I've been playing on and off on a cycle, and I'm still not sick of it yet. Now I'm starting a new Amazon, but my sister! She uses the computer every single possible moment she's in the house!

Sigh. Oh well. At least I have more time to finish the books in my house. And I do have quite a number of books in my house which I haven't read, come to think about it. Probably enough to keep me occupied till next year if I start now. Diligently.

Or I can just chase my sister away so I can continue playing Diablo 2. To hell with her schoolwork, my entertainment is more important. Bwahahahaha.

Sunday, August 18, 2002

There is no spoon.
There is no farking spoon.
Fark the spoon.
Cause there is none.

Saturday, August 17, 2002

It's another one of them sleepless nights. I recall being bone weary after work today. I know, because I came home, took a bath and all but collapsed on my bed until someone woke me up for dinner. Now, after a rather hectic night trying to draw strange mathematical symbols and geometrical shapes in Word... I can't sleep. A part of me tells me I'm sleepy and tired, but the mind's still churning and the eyes... well, they're not tired anymore.

So here I am, early Saturday morning, blogging away and enjoying the cold night air. I can actually smell the sea, you know. It reminds me of a lot of nights like this one. Quiet night, that wonderful cold night air which usually comes around a lot during December... like Christmas 1996, with Christmas carols over Radio 4 and Star Control 2 ( courtesy of Babgafa ) in my computer. It wasn't a good time for me, that season, but the air, the songs and the game kept my spirit up.

Or all those countless nights I've stayed up just to surf the Internet and download stuff. Like now. Maybe I should change my MP3 playlist. I'm getting far too nostalgic here.

I think I'm getting too farking old. Mentally. Spiritually. Psychologically.

... away on ICQ with mnemonic and His Darkeness William ...

Weird. I suddenly feel much younger. Perhaps I need to stay up late every now and then. Let the cold air and the nice MP3s wash the accumulated dust of daily life off my soul. There's something really Zenlike with cold morning solitude on the Internet. It's nights like these when a younger me would have visited the more interesting links on the Dark Side of the Net. Or go searching for stuff on cyberpunk and Dungeons and Dragons. Nowadays, when rare opportunities like this come by, I just soak up the atmosphere and read some Buffy news.

Friday, August 16, 2002

Driving around town late at night alone during the Hungry Ghost Festival is not a wise idea. In fact, one should avoid these escapades. Cause if you see a woman walking around carrying a recently severed man's head, you won't know if you should call the police, an exorcist or just check if they're making any horror movies in the immediate vicinity. Me, I tend to drive on. No point pondering too much on such sights.

Thursday, August 15, 2002

Pei Ling was telling me about her guinea pig. She liked it a lot. When it was hungry, it would make little 'oink oink' sounds, just like a real pig. After having it for about a month or so, she grew attached to it. And then one day, it died. Apparently, as her brother found out later, you can only bath guinea pigs twice a year. Pei Ling bathed her little piggy twice that month. Yes, it's tragic. I can sympathize with her, cause if you're going to move your guinea pig into a newer and bigger cage and it's smelly, your first reaction would be to give it a bath. Sigh.

I had a pet too. Once. Through no fault of mine. I came back from university classes one day, and there was this little baby bird sitting in my shoe. My natural reaction was to curse and swear rather colourfully about the bird's choice of shoes to get comfortable in. I can imagine how anyone passing by would have seen me: guy dressed in black carrying a bag slung over his shoulder, his face contorted into a picture of agony as he stared miserably at his shoe, repeating four letter obscenities over and over again.

Anyway, I tried to get rid of it. I put it out on the driveway, but it couldn't fly. Probably was too small at that time. A couple of birds, probably its parents, dropped by for quite awhile and made lots of noises, but when it got dark they flew away and the little bird was still on the driveway, shivering away because of the cold. So I brought it up to my room, turned the cardboard box of my speakers into a nest, populated it with strips of paper, sacrificed a bottle cap I was saving up to be its drinking water pool and dumped the bird inside. A bit later, the little bird started making pretty noisy chirpy noises, so I shared some of the bread I was having for dinner with it. It couldn't really eat bread as it was, so I had to twist the bread into the shape of a worm and feed it. I also had to take the bottle cap to its beak so that it would drink. It got quiet after awhile, and I went to play some games. As I was going to sleep, it started getting noisy again, so I went to make it more wormbread, but it was reluctant to eat this time. I didn't know what else to do, so I went to sleep. Reluctantly, too. You try going to sleep with a baby crying out for food nearby. Every little chirp twinges on the soul.

Morning came, and the bird was still chirping, but with bigger intervals in between, and much softer. It was getting decidedly weaker, I guess. After some consultation with the old lady who was the landlady's mother ( she lived on the ground floor while us tenants lived a floor above ), I decided to bring the little bird to the tree across the road and leave it in a small alcove in the trunk.

When I came back from class, the little bird was gone. Maybe its parents came for it. Maybe the rubbish man took it home. Maybe a cat had it for lunch. I don't know. Deep inside, I don't want to know. One moment of stupidity - I could have left it in the tree the evening before! - and maybe the little bird's life is forfeited. But the bird was gone. Fini. Now everytime someone talks about pets, the bird - and my folly - comes to mind. Damn that little bird. I didn't ask for its well-being to be dumped on my conscience.

Wednesday, August 14, 2002

There I was, dragging myself back to my flat with 'Blue Velvet' playing over and over again in my head. I reached one of the many coffeeshops below my residence, looked at what was showing on the television there ( an underwater shot of some dolphins swimming in the sea ), and then continued walking. And then stopped. Cause that all-too familiar line - 'and I still can see blue velvet through my tears' - floated to my ears. Just as the very same song finished playing in my head. Apparently, that was the background music for those dolphins swimming around. Like, whoa.
As time goes by, I find that the 'Just Another Day In The Office' Syndrome I have is fading away, to be replaced by the 'Oh God Please Not ANOTHER Day In The Office' Syndrome. Although they may sound almost similar ( they are, in fact, close cousins ), the first syndrome actually makes working less of a chore and more of something to do to pass the time while some form of financial renumeration trickles into your bank account. The second syndrome, however, is a counterproductive devil whose only objective is to make you not want to even think about work. Not thinking about work, you can imagine, is not a very good thing to do when it's 10.45am and you have a deadline to meet at noon.

There's much one can do to actually make life better. What I do, every morning when I turn on my computer at work, is to picture myself in a large gigantic stadium. There I am, standing in the glare of the spotlight with millions of files and folders ( looking very much like the usual Windows icons ) as my audience. They're heaping gigabytes of praises upon my esteemed self while waving their little bright red pennants with their little white hands. And when Windows 2000 plays its boot-up sound... that's when the crowd goes wild with adoration.

And then I'm back at work, with someone probably playing some Chinese song in the background. But I feel a little better at least. Communion with the machine is spiritual.

Tuesday, August 13, 2002

You know, my mind is filled with thoughts every other moment of the day, but everytime I sit down to write something in my blog, my mind goes a-blanko. This kind of selective writer's block... I'm not sure how it came about. I think it's pretty weird, given that I'm usually more than happy to embellish poor suffering Chris over ICQ with the latest in my mind. And that can sometimes get pretty vivid and sordid. Pity Chris. He suffers so that the rest of you don't have to bear with me over ICQ. And bearing with me over ICQ can get pretty testing... especially if you do it for eight hours ( or more ) five days ( or more ) a week. Many secrets can be revealed to you during that time, but like all good secrets, they're bound to corrupt your soul and drive you insane after awhile. So if you happen to bump into a web designer with a haunted look in his eyes who writes Christian plays in PJ, say hi to Chris.

But enough of the world I see which shouldn't be seen. It's lunchtime, half the office has gone out for lunch, I want to nap but another four lost souls happen to have finished their lunches earlier and are now also in the office with me. I'm getting pretty irritated here. That happens when I lack sleep. I'm just another big disgruntled bear who's a month short of full hibernation.

Monday, August 12, 2002

Aah... my tongue's healing up rather nicely. The flayed tongueflesh seems to have vanished, leaving behind two white patches on the surface where my teeth bit down on earlier. Sensationwise, all that's left now is a slight stinging feeling where the wound was. It is a good day when you eat a small piece of fried chicken ( as recommended by the economy rice lady ) and you don't feel a stinging pain in your tongue. It's nice when you drink tomyam ( courtesy of Mich C yesterday ) and instead of going to hell, you just feel this warm fuzzy feeling in your tongue. Of course, the insane amounts of chee cheong fun which Mich C and I consumed for lunch yesterday helped a little in dulling what might have been a potentially taste-crippling soup. See, Mich C got experimental and got us tomyam and chee cheong fun for lunch hee hee. Right after which was a screening of Resident Evil, during which we had triple chocolate and cookies & cream ice cream. Oooh... heaven.

Sunday, August 11, 2002

And thus ends the weekend. Well, at least there are ghosts running around now. From now on, I'll really try not to stay back in the office anymore. Not that I'm chicken or anything. But the idea of being alone on the 26th floor of an almost empty tower in the middle of the night doesn't really sound appealing to me. Not when it's that month when there a numerous spirits supposedly roaming around all over the place. I wonder what my bosses will say if I told them that my mother wants me in the house everyday before it gets dark.

Saturday, August 10, 2002

Ooh, the Hungry Ghost Festival has begun! As most people living in the vicinity of Penang might have realized, it was heralded by one hell of a storm yesterday morning. And today again, after Mich C and I finished The Sum Of All Fears in the cinema, it was raining again. Heavily. Right in the middle of the afternoon, too. Well, you know what this means, nibblings. No more swimming in rough seas. And try to steer clear of big bodies of water too. Oh, and if you feel someone walking outside your window but you can't see anybody, just close the curtains. It doesn't pay to get too curious at this time of the year. Well, doesn't pay much anyway.

Friday, August 09, 2002

My bosses in Hong Kong have this strange practice. They really like their subordinates here in Penang to stay back after work to call people in other countries who might not even be in the office. These bosses, they tend to get pushy. I think I've made quite a few enemies in other countries by now, especially with me having to constantly send them emails asking them to get things done for us. Personally, I don't really like doing that. If I've mailed Person A in Some Other Country, I don't want to stay back in the office after work till around 12am just to confirm with them over the phone that they've gotten my mail. More often than not, they're probably not in or they're too busy to entertain me.

It's really unfair, and with the extremely bad economy now, there's really nothing much employees can do. Bosses are so simple these days - "Don't like how we're treating you? Well, you know where the door is. There's a whole lot of people out there waiting to take your place. By the way, good luck on finding another job." And then you're screwed, because there really isn't a large number of jobs lying around.

There are always ways to get back at the company though. But there's only so much a person can do before management hauls his ass off to the police station. Oh sigh.

Thursday, August 08, 2002

And I still can see blue velvet through my tears.

Wednesday, August 07, 2002

I've finally finished playing Star Trek: Away Team. It's a tactical squad-based real-time strategy game set in the Star Trek universe. You get to control an Away Team ( Star Trek style ) to accomplish certain mission objectives. A few words about the game...

  1. It's fun playing commandos in the Star Trek universe. Too few games allow you to fly around the galaxy blasting Star Trek alien species to pieces. Star Trek: Elite Force allowed you to do that too, but that was a first-person shooter, and you didn't have the blessings of the Federation to carry out wholesale massacres.
  2. AI for the game was bad though. The personnel you control will not return fire - in fact, they only attack when you tell them to attack. Otherwise, they'll just stand still and soak up the phaser fire. And if you stun the enemies, their friends will ignore them and after awhile they'll recover and walk off as if nothing happened. This didn't really work in the Klingon mission though, when all I could do was stun people to minimize on casualties.
  3. I hate the borg. Unless I'm packing mucho explosives. And I hate cloaked proximity mines. And I hate it when I can't just go around killing everybody ( in some missions, you're not allowed to kill ANYBODY ). And I thought I hated stealth missions, but it got kinda cool in the end.
  4. Voice-acting was okay. Story was pretty cool. The usual twists and turns were there, giving you the player an excuse to go visit everywhere from Starfleet Academy to a borg cube.
  5. Controls were simple. The game wasn't 100% real-time though. You get to pause the game with the spacebar when you want to assign commands to your team members ala Baldur's Gate.
  6. I liked the graphics. Isometric view with pre-rendered 3D backgrounds. Everything looked real nice, except for those occasions when you used the sniper rifle to zoom in on someone's head to blow it off. Those pixels were horrible.
  7. The sound was incredible. Especially those missions based in the Borg cube. The low humming of the machinery was deep and pretty impressive. Of course, given that this is my first game utilizing my new speakers and soundcard, I could be overrating it.

The game's 18 missions took up some time. I pretty much enjoyed the game, although there were some pretty frustrating parts. However, the frustration only lasted until I figured out how to get past that section of the game. And then it was smooth sailing until the next stumper came up. I initially disliked the borg missions - who wouldn't, especially with those creeps adapting to your weapons after the first few hits? And then I discovered that they were vulnerable to the sniper rifle ( projectile ) and explosives ( ka-blooey ), and then borg missions suddenly got a whole lot more enjoyable.

Yes, Star Trek: Away Team was fun. No, I won't be playing it again anytime soon. I think I'll go do Jedi Knight 2: Jedi Outcast now that I'm done. But ah... it was fun while it lasted.
Truly, biting down on one's own tongue is a rather painful experience. The actual sensations are mercifully blurred out during the moments following the bite, blanked away by the waves of pain which keep on washing over the tongue. And then the numbness sets in, and you start feeling like your teeth are going to drop off. Damn that hot rice, now everytime I look into the mirror and display my tongue, I see white slices of tongueflesh still clinging to that reddish spot on the tongue where my teeth bit down on last night. Eating is a pain, and pronouncing words with letters like 'h', 's' and a few others more evoke deep sensations of pain. Well yay hurray, maybe this is a good time to grow thin.

Tuesday, August 06, 2002

Today, I was sitting in on a meeting conducted in Mandarin for a full twenty minutes before someone realized that I wasn't supposed to be there. I have to admit, it was a rather boring experience. I kept on writing 'doodle' on the little piece of paper I brought in with me. I was supposed to be there, but somewhere along the line I was taken off the project, and no one told me about that. Typical. Anyway, I got to doodle all over my little piece of paper, and listen in to an interesting Mandarin-English discussion. Not that I understood much of it. Bah.

Someone managed to lose a Windows 2000 CD in the office. I wonder if anyone stole it. Like, who wants to steal a Windows 2000 CD? Heck, I won't steal a Windows XP CD, original or not. Maybe an original copy of Neverwinter Nights. Or Diablo 2. Or Unreal Tournament. But Windows? Nah. Not yet, at any rate. I think it's stupid to steal from the office.

Monday, August 05, 2002

Mich C was not lost - she went to Lumut with her family for a vacation. Well, a few more strands of my hair turned white because of that. Grr.

Sunday, August 04, 2002

It was PC Fair day today. Me, Hel and the Simoniac went walking around PISA and I ended up with two Soundblaster Lives ( one for Mich C ) and Hel got her floppy drive for her friend. It wasn't that big of a deal, really. There wasn't much to see there. Heck, there was hardly a crowd there too. Penang's computer fairs are small compared to KL's computer fairs. Anyway, night now, it's raining and I'm downloading the driver updates for my new soundcard. 25MB drivers are ridiculous.

Saturday, August 03, 2002

This was supposed to have been posted on Friday, when the sun was shining, the birds were singing and I had a whole weekend to vegetate:

The Almighty Papaya hast spokeneth. When it is my lunch hour, do not bother me with work. Geez, I cut my lunch hour short by half an hour and I still get flake from the boss. Only when I started waving my plasticful of papayas around did my boss realize that he had encroached upon our sacred lunch hour. At least he was decent enough to postpone the meeting to 2pm. Not that he'll like me much after that.

The double shot espresso frappucino I finally had yesterday kept me up for awhile late into the night, and then in the morning, my stools which had been hardened solid gave me one hell of an ass-ripping time in the toilet. Sometimes, the cost of caffeine can be too high.

Friday, August 02, 2002

Mich C went back to Ipoh today, so she won't be here this weekend. I was thinking of vegetating throughout Saturday and Sunday, but I've been recalled to the office tomorrow because some lameass colleagues figured that they could shove off some work to me. Am I happy about it? Oh nooo... anymore work and people might start falling off 26 floors of misery tomorrow.

Thursday, August 01, 2002

Should have bought something from Starbucks should have bought something from Starbucks... A double shot of espresso sounds really nice, with my mind shutting down and my eyes refusing to open. The first part of last night was nice - Mich C and I went over to BJC to watch MIB2, which was a surprisingly decent watch, although a little short. I still can't figure out why a lot of people told me it sucked. The second part of last night, however, was spent trying to call a lady in America who was in a meeting all the time. Hurray for the brilliant minds over at Hong Kong. I did manage to get my ass into trouble when I called up the manager in Hong Kong and asked him what to do after the lady told me she was in a meeting. All I wanted was someone to tell me I could go home, and suddenly I got more work to do. How was I to know that he would still be in the office? For all I know, the office could be his home.

Anyway, it's been a really sleepy day, and it's not like I don't have work to do. I actually have to get some stuff working. The 'Starbucks coffee will keep you awake' debate rages on.