Friday, December 31, 2004

Here I am in Plantation, Florida. The long trip from Narita to Fort Worth, Dallas, Texas to Plantation, Florida is finally over. The jetlag, however, has only begun. My trip from Narita to the US this time was better. There was no one next to my window seat. In fact, the whole row was empty except for me and the Chinese lady at the other window seat who looked a bit like Mich C. The movie offerings were yucky - only Collateral was worth watching.

Anyway, there was that trip, and after that came the trip from Texas to Florida, but that one was nightmarish. I slept most of the way cause I was feeling really wretched at that point. At least our drive from the airport to our hotel went without a hitch. A hot bath was the first thing I took when I got to my room, followed by linking my computer up to the Internet. Yes, this time I actually have broadband access in my room.

We ( me and the other two engineers ) went to Denny's for dinner, where Sandra our waitress who kept thinking we were from China taught us how to eat grits. Basically you put the butter into the grits, mix in some salt and stir stir stir. It's quite nice once you get over the extreme jelak factor of the dish. The country fried steak and the scrambled eggs were nice though. Scrambled eggs are always nice.

So now here I am. My shit's turned black in colour and it already smells different, but that's really because of the airline food I've been consuming. That airline food... sigh. You never know what weird stuff they put in there. I miss the studio style room I had the last time I was in Plantation, but this one has broadband access. That more than makes up for it, I guess.

The last night of 2004 and I'm spending it jetlagged. It's New Year already in Malaysia, but I can't seem to call some people back home. Maybe I'll try again after I attempt some sleep. Brr... it's cold here.
Narita. Here I am again in Japan, with the chilly wind and the American Airlines lounge. The Admiral's Club. Last time I was here, I just sat down on one of the seats, gorged myself on pretzels and basically felt tired. This time, I took a shower and here I am now, posting this. It's really fun when the place is empty.

The flight to Japan was very tiring. After a bunch of our colleagues dropped by to see us off ( actually to see the other two guys off, but I joined in the seeing off of since I was going off too ), we took off to KLIA. The MAS Golden Lounge there is very impressive. Lots of food - oxtail soup, cream of asparagus soup, nice dessert, spaghetti with seafood sauce, real seafood in the seafood sauce, all the Carlsberg you can drink... even the toilets looked good.

Then it was off to Kota Kinabalu for an hour of transit. We didn't want to go down initially, but Delia our air stewardess said we should go jalan-jalan a bit, so we went down, and realized that the people there looked very different. Maybe it's because they're orang asli. Somehow, their looks depressed me a lot. I thought about it for awhile, and I think maybe it's because they remind me of my grandmother. What the hell man.

And then came the trip from Kota Kinabalu to Narita. I think someone must have screwed up the food timing, cause they kept on feeding us food consistently. So much until *I* finally gave up on the final course. "No thanks," I said. "Really?" asked the sweet Japanese lady who smiles at everyone but when it comes to Japanese her face takes on this concerned look and she suddenly transforms from smiling matron to young concerned lady. Her smile made her look older, but I didn't tell her that. Instead, I told her, "Yes, thank you very much." Then she asked me if I wanted dessert, which was cheesecake. Really, the MAS air crew is very friendly.

Didn't sleep much on the plane though. Turned out that the Indian guy next to me was Fye's team member, so after the preliminaries, we got to do some minimal chatting and then later we watched the American version of Taxi ( starring Queen Latifah and Jimmy Fallon ). So I only had about two hours of sleep last night. Not to worry. After this brief transit we'll be heading off to America. The long trip. My face already feels like it's melting off and my lips are dried up and my throat is giving me problems again. Jetlag City, here I come.

Thursday, December 30, 2004

Well, all my bags are packed and I'm ready to go. With low spirits, yes, but we do what we must. So. I go. And you folks just hang on for jetlagged-filled posts after I get Internet access again, ya.

Monday, December 27, 2004

So. The bastard's alive. Thus ends the Benjamin Southall "Did he bite the dust in the Goa tidal wave?!" panic, starring Yours Truly, Hel, Hel's husband's handphone and possibly a few other people. It will forever be remembered as an epic saga of mild apprehension. I tell you, dying's too good for some people.

Sunday, December 26, 2004

Earthquakes. Tremors. Tidal waves. What a Christmas.

Hi, and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all you beautiful people out there. Christmas Eve was magical after such a long time, Christmas lunch was actually better than usual and Boxing Day has been pretty exciting so far. This morning I woke up to go pee. Then when I was trying to go back to sleep, my bed started creaking. That was strange, since I wasn't having sex at that moment, but my half-asleep mind was hoping that the creaking would go away. And then my neighbour started waking us up to tell us about the earthquake. So I got up and my father got up and we enjoyed the vertigo for awhile before the tremors subsided. Some dumbasses ran down to the ground floor and stood between two blocks of flat, thus guaranteeing that if both fell, they would most assuredly be crushed. Fools.

Anyway, post quake, there was peace for awhile, so my neighbours took the opportunity to ask me to format their computer for them. It got the tall leggy one into my room, but only to get her IR port working. After installing some stuff, I returned the computer to them. Just as I was booting up my PC, my mom called me to tell me that the northern coast of Penang had been hit by tsunami. She was buying mee when she saw the village folks near the coast running away from the sea. So now, apparently, the north coastal areas have been cordoned off. E&O Hotel's lobby is filled with mud and water, and a number of houses have been destroyed. And also, a lot of jammed roads, but I think I might go have a looksee myself just to see how bad things are.

Now India will have a severe fish shortage, and vacationers in Phuket have been washed away, and generally the Christmas spirit in Southeast Asia has been brutally cut short because some faultline decided to join in the festivities. Geez.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

You know how it's like when you sleep at 5am and your dad's alarm clock wakes you ( and probably the neighbours ) up at 8.30am on a Sunday morning? And you can no longer fall asleep again?

Welcome to my life.

The only thing on my mind now is that I'm going to need an insane amount of caffeine and flu medicine to get through the day. I forecast the headache to hit me in the afternoon. The mucus is already gathering at my nose, ready to start sliming up that area between my nostrils and my upper lip. Slightly salty shit, that. And all this because of a single shot of espresso on a Saturday night.

Yesterday. Ah, where to begin? The Von Darkes ( Carmen the dotter and William the big bad dad ) and I attended Hel's and Captain Insano's wedding registration and wedding reception lunch. The registration was held in the Chinese Town Hall in Georgetown. The lift wasn't working. We found that out after waiting five minutes for it. When we got up to the waiting room, Hel and her soon-to-be hubby were already taking photos underneath a flowery arch. All the guests who were already there gave at us that "ah... latecomers" look. We quietly skitted over to some empty seats and sat down to admire the very good-looking couple.

What is there to say? He looked neat and cool, she has never looked more beautiful. I've no idea why Hel was walking around weirdly ( with sudden movements of the head ), but I'm going to attribute that to excitement and possibly weird dressing. While Captain Insano looked well-groomed, I think her newly-developed eyelashes made her look slightly different. Plus, she did her hair up. After the flowery arch photos, they walked around chit-chatting with the guests a bit. And then we all went into the registrar's office where they signed the documents. Hel was so excited her hands were shaking when she signed the docs heh heh. Then after that, lots of photos, then went out to the waiting room for more photos, and then we adjourned to Penang Swimming Club for lunch.

And what a lunch it was. When Captain Insano says that he doesn't want his guests to go home hungry, he means it. Lots of chicken dishes, and man, I haven't been to PSC in ages, they've done the place up nicely. Especially that walkway connecting the parking lot to the club. Nice.

So that's it. Captain Insano's married Hel and they're both going to be happy ever after. Whereas I still lurk between the shadows, a Malaysian Constantine. Yeah right, hehe.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Ow. Hey. Back from KKB ( Kuala Kubu Bharu ). Firefighter's training in FRAM ( Fire and Rescue Academy of Malaysia ), yeah. Before you learn how to save the world, you must first learn how to save people from a burning house. So, here we go.


THE CAST
From my department - me and another colleague
From the HFID department - 5 fashionable guys ( kinda like that queer eye thing )
From the hardware department - 22 minus 7 people
Our coordinator - Mr. Z ( pronounced Zack )


12 December 2004, Sunday
3.15pm - We leave Penang, all 22 engineers on one bus.

7.15pm - Arrival in Kuala Kubu Bharu where we were greeted by Mr. Z. Checked in. Me and Shirish ( HFID - the same guy I went to US with earlier this year ) shared a room - the ONLY room with air conditioning. The other twenty engineers got non air-conditioned rooms. Nyah nyah.

8.00pm - Dinner.

After dinner - Mr. Z gave us a short briefing on what to expect.

After the briefing - Me, my colleague and the HFID guys decided to take a stroll around town. Actually, the HFID guys decided to take a stroll around town and since Shirish had the room key, I tagged along and my colleague followed cause there was nothing else much to do. After a long endless walk along very dark roads with possible rain ( heralded by lightning in the distance ), we finally reached the town. Which was empty and deserted around 9.00pm. About that point I complained to Shirish that everytime he brings me out, he keeps taking me to these small deserted little towns. So we walked on, and reached what might be the town center ( there's a 7-11 and a mamak shop there ). After that we walked along this area where Barisan National was having some sort of gathering, and fireworks went off just as we were in a very very strategic position to view them along the road. YES. FIREWORKS. In KKB! I SHIT YOU NOT. Thanks be to the DPM, who was supposedly visiting that night. I don't know how often they have fireworks in KKB, but man, it truly was a WTF moment. It was like they set off the fireworks for us or something. Some say it was triggered when one of the fashionable guys bought a can of soft drink from the sundry shop. Who knows? Who cares? Right after the fireworks ended, we headed back to the FRAM. It didn't rain.

After the stroll - Back at FRAM, we went to the karaoke room for awhile where some people were karaokeing. And then close to 11.30pm...

11.30pm - We all headed back to our rooms.

11.31pm - I detoured to chat with Shirish and a couple of the HFID guys until 12pm.


13 December 2004, Monday
Around 1 something am - FINALLY FARKING FELL ASLEEP. Yes, my room was blessedly air-conditioned, but the bloody pillow was too high and too hard. JESUS.

6.00am - Muslim morning prayers. It was like someone screaming in my face. And I think whoever was saying the prayers got a phrase wrong. MALU. You woke me up for this? COME ON. After awhile, drifted back to sleep.

7.00am - Alarm clock woke me up. Cold morning bath. Brr.

8.00am - Breakfast of nasi lemak and teh tarik. Mmm.

9.00am - Class commences.

10.30am - They teach us how to use a breathing apparatus. That thing with the oxygen tank and the gas mask which firemen use when entering burning buildings filled with smoke.

11.30am - They showed us a fire engine and its innards. And I climbed up the ladder and stood on the fire engine. Yes. I stood on a fire engine. That was a moment for me.

Sometime after that - Lunch. After this we got our coveralls, our helmet and our boots. We suited up nicely for...

2.00pm - Field training. They taught us how to carry fire hoses around, lay it out and basically coordinate stuff around. Very painful stuff, especially under the hot sun and all. At one point I felt like puking and fainting at the same time. This shows how out of shape I am. There's something really sadistic watching the recruits running around in full uniform breathing from the oxygen masks carrying the oxygen tanks on their back. Each cylinder weighs around 20kg.

5.00pm - The Dark Room exercise. They turn off the lights and let you grope each other as you try to find your way out. Sadistic bastards.

After the Dark Room - We washed up, and headed off to the fire department's open house. Very big affair, lots of Malay families which I assume belong to the firemen, a few stalls around with food.

9.00pm - After waiting an hour for the bigshot to turn up AND finish his speeches, we finally got to eat. Satay. Beef rendang. Soto lengkong. Fried rice. Lamb. Chicken. Ketupat. Durian. Oranges. Syrup. Man, I've never eaten so much so fast before. Of course, I was really hungry.

9.40pm - Tired but my hunger overappeased, I went to the TV room where I watched half of the Alias season 3 finale ( "Resurrection" ) before I headed back to bed. Too tired to finish the show.

11.00pm - Dropped dead in bed.


14 December 2004, Tuesday
6.00am - Prayer time again. But this time, it served me well. I stumbled out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom. There, I paid for my gluttony the night before with TWENTY FULL MINUTES OF HEAVY SHITTING. By the time I was done, I could no longer see the bottom of the toiletbowl. Heavy shit indeed.

7.00am - The real alarm call. But since I emptied my bowels earlier, the morning bath went quickly.

8.00am - Breakfast.

9.00am - The first group went off for their fire simulation. We, the second group, sat around and twiddled out thumbs while listening to the first group's antics over the radio.

Around 10.00am - OUR TURN. We hopped onto the fire engine and the rescue vehicle and cruised round town for awhile. Then the emergency call came in. And we scrambled towards the burning building ( SIMULATION ONLY ). It was fun. While we rescue folks cooled our heels and basically panicked about our masks and our gloves, the fire team raced to set up the hoses and put the fire out. Then the call came in to pick up dead people, so we hurried to the building with our stretcher to carry the wounded out. I think I cooked my ass a bit when I got too close to the flames, but apart from that, everything was peachy keen except for the wounded, who were heavy. It's always heavy when four idiots screws up carrying a stretcher. Geez. My colleague playacted as the second victim, and we nearly dumped her over the side of the staircase, but since she's still alive, I can now claim credit for saving her life. Oh hero, thy name is me.

After the death-defying simulation - We had this brief talking session with some of the firemen.

1.30pm - Lunch, thank God.

2.30pm - We gathered to leave and took some photos with the most esteemed Mr. Z, who's a very nice chap. He's one of the instructors, and he's really funny and engaging.

3.00pm - HOMEWARD BOUND. Most of the engineers feel asleep on the bus. What a bunch of wusses.

shortly after 7.00pm - HOME.



Christ, that was one hell of a trip. Muscles are aching in places I didn't know had muscles. But I had fun. It was torture, yes, but in a fun way. Right now, I'm really beat. I think I'm gonna go drop dead again now.

Things I have learned from fire fighter's training:
  • Fire is dangerous.
  • The fire fighter's training is bloody tough. Someone actually told me this a long time ago, but I forgot.
  • NEVER MASTURBATE A DAY BEFORE GOING FOR FIRE FIGHTER'S TRAINING.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

They'll be shipping me off to Kuala Kubu Baru, Selangor for some training thingy tomorrow. I used to hate travelling, cause I've always got this fear that this is the last journey I'll be taking in my life. Actually, I still have that buried somewhere in my heart. But during my US trip earlier this year, my fellow travellers managed to imbue me with a sense of adventure and want-to-experience and a "Come on, how often do we end up in St. Louis, Missouri! Let's go see the arch!" attitude. That might have mellowed a little bit, but I think that too is now buried somewhere in my heart. So I want to go, but I also don't want to go. Splendid. I so needed to add more contradictions to my being because hey, walking paradox in the making here.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

REALITY.

It slammeth me in the gut like a ton of bricks ( ow ). But I straighten up again. Now is not the time to keel over like a dead flower. Nay. Now is the time Prove Myself to the Company.

Yeah. Right.

Sod them all, those bastards. Like I give a flying shit anymore. It's like dominoes. First, the first one falls. Followed by the second. Then the third. And the fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Ba. Jiu. Shi. And so on. That's my life in a nutshell. When it all, it all falls down ( south side, south side, we're gonna set this party all right, west side, west side, we're gonna set this party all right ). Vodka helps blur out the acute feel of life. Which explains why I'm grumpy in the morning ( hangover ), chirpy in the day ( high ) and moody in the evening ( reality sinks in again ). Sometimes, things might happen and reality sinks in EVEN deeper. That's right, Juliet. Stab Romeo's dagger into you a little bit more. *stab* *stab* *stab* ( ow ). Yeaaaaaargh.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

The Simoniac will be flying off to Bangalore tomorrow, so Hel and I had dinner with him tonight. Hel herself will be running off to the States at the end of this year, so since we'll all be terribly missing her, we're spending as much time with her as possible now. Cause pretty soon, NO MORE HEL. At least, for a year or two. Then she'll come skulking back to Malaysia with an American accent cause by then, she'll be an American tourist.

The Simoniac, however, will be in India for three months. And when he comes back, he will have an Indian accent. Damn these accents. I want one too. If they send me off to Florida, I'll be sure to cultivate a British accent there. Yes, I'll cultivate a bloody British accent while I'm in America. Cause if I come back speaking like an American... man, that's way too clichéd.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

The big picture is sometimes one of those things you're better off without. When you don't see the big picture, ignorance is bliss. You walk around a happier person, smiling at the sun and wishing the flowers good morning. And then, one day, you get a glimpse of the big picture. It's not always obvious at first. You could be looking at someone else who's gotten a better look at the big picture, who's behaving in a different way than before because of what he knows, and you could shun the big picture. "Screw it," you say. "If that's what the big picture does to people, then it's not for me. I'm happy at the bottom of the pond, wallowing in my muddy little corner of the world. It's dark and I don't see much, but hey. I'm comfortable."

Time goes by. Slowly, the layers in front of the big picture are pulled back. Every now and then, another small splinter of the glass window covering the big picture breaks away and falls. The big picture doesn't get presented in a neat little training slide. It's not one of those epiphanies you get as you walk towards the car in the morning. It's that slow, creeping enlightenment which ominously slides over your life like a thin film of oil. It's the darkening of a sunny day by black angry clouds. One moment you're cavorting in the sun. The next, you feel a slight chill, and you realize that the day has suddenly gotten so much darker. And like all things esoterical and wickedly just beyond your grasp, the big picture beckons.

It calls to you like your hot sexy neighbour during a powercut in the night, promising cool kisses of relief and pleasure. It draws you close like an exposed monorail track, hypnotizing you to throw yourself onto the electrified rails. It's the shaky tooth in your mouth, screaming out for you to rip it out of your jaw. Knowledge of the big picture is tempting.

So you give in to the siren call. You seek it, wanting to know more. At this point you are heedless of the consequences. Quenching the desire is all you care about. "I must know," you say to yourself. And you poke. And you think. And you prod. And you ask. And you pay attention. But the big picture is not meant to be forced. Some things cannot happen overnight. Yet you roll on relentlessly, an unstoppable juggernaut wanting to know.

Then you come to that point where you want to stop knowing. In the mid throes of passion you remember that the sexy neighbour riding you has had sex with lots of other guys and is probably crawling with STDs. As you fall in slow motion towards the rails you think that maybe passing away quietly on a deathbed surrounded by grandchildren is a more preferable death to painful electrocution. As your hand slowly peels back that shaky tooth, the pain forces you to rethink your brilliant plan of DIY dentistry. But it's too late. You've already seen a part of the big picture. You don't like it. But you cannot stop right here and now. The veil has been parted. You cannot forget what you now know. The big picture will make you a grimmer person and there's nothing you can do about it.

So you let her ride you to the end, your sweaty torso desperately bucking away in bittersweet ecstasy between her moist STD-ridden crotch. You grit your teeth hard and reach for the rails, determined to let the charged electricy course through your body. With one savage pull you rip that tooth out of your mouth, blood and pain intermingled with relief.

You will see the big picture. And you will live with it. Cause that's what life is about. Learning to live with it.

Monday, November 29, 2004

I'm only gone two days but it feels like two weeks. Somehow, Penang seems to have changed so much. In actual fact, I've just put on a lot of weight during the last few days. No more indiscriminate eating for me. Maybe I should go on a diet or something.

This morning's visa application was fun. I was up by 4.30am, and by the time Von Darke woke up, I was already ready for the interview. After a swift breakfast, he dropped me off at Ampang Park - later we found out that we had unknowingly driven pass the embassy. I guess more Yomeishu might have helped. But, I was the tenth person there. Very nice figure. So I waited patiently. Then I handed over my IC for a CONSULAR ONLY badge, then I got searched by security before they let me in, and then I went in and waited for awhile ( all the while chatting with some middle-aged businessman who hasn't been to the US since 911 ), and then I went to submit my application forms. AND THE AMERICAN LADY TOLD ME THAT I NEEDED A FARKING RHB BANK DRAFT.

So okay. Cool. I didn't lose it there and then and single-handedly destroy the embassy, which is a good thing. I kept my cool. I was *cool*. YOU have no idea how difficult that was. It took a supreme amount of restraint and cool to walk out of the embassy without initiating an impromptu massacre. Yes. I was cool.

Then I called in a million favours to get the next best course of action. Also included in the fun were my two colleagues, whose faces probably turned white the moment they found out that our receipts weren't enough, no sir, we needed those damn RHB bank drafts. So okay, I went to the Ampang Park Putra LRT station and loitered around for an eternity before those two bozos turned up wearing CHECKS. And then we went to get our bank drafts. It should be mentioned that as we were waiting for the bank to open ( and just before those two mooks went to take a pic of the bull under the OSK building ), there was a really sweet girl who looked a little bit like May. Really, I have a thing for these weird-looking girls.

Anyway, I have not digressed. We got the bank drafts, and then there was the mad walk/run back to the embassy where we waited for another eternity in line. After which we finally got into the embassy. During the security search, the guards recognized me due to my Tiger Balm ointment in my bag. Aww... recognition. After that the application submission went well, and then came the interview.

It was the same guy who did my B1 visa for me back during the 10th of May this year. And again, I was meeting him in the late afternoon. But for a different reason. This time again, he was nice enough not to ask me too many questions. I did finally get the "How come your family name is weird" category of question, but I think I answered it to his satisfaction. *We* should always know the nature of our family name after all. So put left index, scan, put right index, scan, smack me buttocks and off with me, come back collect my passport tomorrow, thank you.

It was fun. It was nice. If everything had gone well, I would never have had that male bonding session with my colleagues. And definitely never would have had shark's fin with crabmeat soup and cod steak for lunch. After lunch, I ran around KLCC for awhile, especially around the area of Kinokuniya. They have a rhyming dictionary in Kinokuniya! OMG! Unfortunately, it was totally unexpected and no budget had been allocated for it, so I didn't get it. Around rush hour, which is around 5pm, we set off to KL Sentral ( have you been there? it's so cool ) where I bought my KLIA Express ticket. That led to a 35 minute trip to KLIA. Sat down with colleagues there, drank some water. And then the flight home.

And now. Jetlag. FARK.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Here I am now in the land of KL, patiently waiting for my visa interview in the American Embassy. I've spent the better part of the year abandoning my friends and my family in favuor of work. In exchange for my sins, my company has decided to send me away to the US again. This time, it won't be another field trip through states. I'm heading towards just one state, and potentially a lot of work. Pretty much a horror movie in the making.

I was actually late for my flight yesterday, and got a fair chastisement from the solemn Malay lady at the ticket counter. And then, after sauntering arrogantly to the departure gate, an old Chinese lady asked me if her ticket was correct in Mandarin. Arrgh. Perhaps she was from China, cause she was carrying a whole lot of boxes with her. Being the right bastard that I am, I didn't offer to carry it for her, but I did confirm that yes, ma'am, you're at the right gate and "ni qu na li ni kan ba 'E'". I'm pretty sure I very terribly destroyed the Mandarin language with that one phrase, but I guess at that point she gave up, nodded and decided that I was an idiot.

And then there was the flight. And then... KL TRANSIT. Which was the strangest thing. You have to push a button to open the door. A novelty in Malaysia, cause in all other trains e.g. the LRT, the doors were usually open until the train was ready to go. Heck, the doors were always opened on the KTM trains too, those large-ass monsters which take hours to travel from one end of the country to another. I guess that in this age of sophistication, we don't want the air-con to escape through an open door while the passengers await the train to start moving. The trip from KLIA to the Putrajaya / Cyberjaya station where Von Darke fetched me was swift though. And after that there was that "getting lost in Putrajaya with the Rumah Terbuka Adilfitri" incident, but that's really not as interesting as it sounds.

Finally, the weather report. KL is hot. Warm. Warmer than KL. Maybe the morning would be cooler. There's that Christmas season feel in Penang which is lacking in KL. Except for the nice sky with the clouds strolling by. Hmm.

Thursday, November 25, 2004

I've just read a horribly depressing article. It had a good ending, but it was depressing all the same. Here, *you* go read it. Who the hell came up with such a story! Jesus. The nerve of people today.

Anyway, while reading it, I realized that I'll never get into that situation in the article. Why? I owe it all to my uncanny inability to start / maintain / end a relationship. Yes, you read it right. Relationship-man I'm not. Maybe it's a feeling shared by a lot of other losers out there. I don't know. I want to not care, although at the moment, the bitterness is... well, bitter. MY CUP OF BITTERNESS OVERFLOWETH.

Also, the ending's kinda fairy tale-ish. Which would explain why some people I spoke to regarding that article ended up crying. How often does this happen? The only reason why this article touched people is because it's RARE. Or maybe even totally fictitious but hey, I like to keep an open mind about stuff. That doesn't change the fact that in reality, things don't work out like that. Marriages do break up. Divorces do happen. Nothing we can do about it cause people are generally assholes. The world deserves to end. Maybe that would give everyone a wake-up call just before we're all wiped out but hey, better late than never.

I guess the reason why I'm both pissed and depressed is because *I* might end up doing something like cheating on my wife and then divorcing her ( assuming there's actually marriage in the future for me ). To me, I am the perfect embodiment of human imperfection. Actually we all are hopelessly flawed ( thus justifying why this world should be destroyed ), but in my case, it's personal. I COULD DO THAT. I MEAN, I REALLY COULD. At least, I think I could. And the uncertainty is disturbing. It's a bit like, could I kidnap someone I really hate and spend the next six months slowly torturing the poor bastard to death? Or if some pretty girl started seducing me, will I give in to sinfully wild sex with her? It's one of those questions. I don't really know if I could do it or not. And not knowing, while not exactly something necessary until I can't live without finding out, is a bit of thorn at the edge of my consciousness.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Getting drunk is all well and good. Until you sober up. At 2.30am. And then you can't sleep anymore, so you log online to say hi to the asshole who's going to be late for work the following morning. That's the scary thing about alcohol. And I'm not even going to go into that dream of running around with a pack of werewolves and later marrying one of them.

Good thing: No hangover.
Bad thing: Today is just another blur.
Thing I wish I could do: Shut up my noisy colleagues by smashing out their jaws.

To be fair, I haven't been sleeping well ever since the Raya holidays. Maybe the nights truly are hotter. Doesn't help that my current situation went from not too good to kinda rotten. Add in more twisting and turning, more drama and we get very sleepy work hours. Actually, very sleepy the whole day. I've been feeling sleepy ever since Raya. Not even coffee perks me up anymore.

Aha. It could be I'm getting fatter. Not that I can do anything about it at the moment. In fact, I will be getting lots of chocolates and ice cream. There's no cure for depression than a lot of unhealthy fattening stuff. Couch potato heaven, here I come.

In other news, aargh I need to dig my nose.

Monday, November 22, 2004

The bracing cool weather we're experiencing these days makes it easy for me to get sick. Bouts of headaches abound, along with this strange lethargy which seems to have befallen me. I'm feeling sleepy and tired most of the time. I blame it on the cold. On the other hand, the weather is also putting me into a happier mood. I blame it on the happy nostalgic memories of Christmas past. And then there were those halcyon days of university where I would get out of my car in the morning and look at the blue blue sky and go, "Hey, we could be gods after all".

But that was last time. A time when I was younger and carefreer. Erm. More carefree. The grind of work has ground my dreams to sawdust. It's very odd, but somehow, I don't think I have any dreams left. Very sad, yes, but my dreams probably migrated to wherever dreams go to die in that dark forgotten dreamless place at the back of the mind.

You know what? I think I just got the brush off from some girl. Again. From the same girl. What kind of dumb fark am I? Why do I like the pain so? Maybe I really like that kind of stuff where I'm tied up while some dame in leather flays the skin off me.

The realization hit me last night that maybe I'm not really the relationship type. It's a bit like waking up in the toilet with your sister kicking your legs to check if you're still alive or not. And weirdly, it always happens on a Sunday night. Like, wtf man? What is it with Sunday nights and semi-Greek semi-tragedies chockful with epiphanies? Is my life so filled with meaningless work that I need more angst? Do I look like I need more angst? I need sex, damnit, not angst! I've done the angst scene so much that I can probably write angst as well as Joss Whedon. Yeaargh!

But. Back to the weather. And the cold. And the caffeine OD. And the numbed mind. Well, OD and mindlessness and propensity for sickness apart, I am lovin' the weather very much. The deep-rooted happiness associated with Christmas is just enough to serve as balm for rejection. Also, it's a good reason to get drunk every night again. Amen.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Life has been routine. Wake up zombified. Bathe and scrub body. Drive to work. Open mail for the Surprise of the Day ( this translates to more work ). Get coffee. Work for an eternity. Dinner. Go back to work. Go home. Sleep. Repeat the next day. It's taxing in an enduring way. I feel very very tired when it comes to work. I don't want to go to work anymore. I get more easily distracted during work. I'm so tired I probably need a year-long vacation or maybe a reason to go on living. Day in, day out. Work work work.

Well, maybe not day in day out. I do get some time off too. But, I suspect, not enough. Cause this heavy weariness I feel seem measureless. It's like someone slapped on something at the back of my head which saps the energy out of me. Doesn't help that some of my colleagues are assholes I would love to burn to a fine crisp. It's one thing to go to work with people you like. It's another thing to go to work and have to put on a tolerant attitude and not smash everybody's teeth out with my laptop.

You know, maybe I'm just feeling belligerent because of how work has been. We all need a break sometimes. I think I do, cause I feel that I've brushed up pretty close to my breaking point sometimes.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

You know, when Life dealt me a blow, I used to turn suicidal. Then I got a better grip on myself and turned homicidal. Much later I got pretty genocidal on the human race, but that was a passing thing. These days, sigh, I hate to admit it, but I've grown as a person. Aye, I'm no longer that self-pitying mofo we had last year. Sure, I get handed lemons every now and then. More often than not, I try to make lemonade. Usually I fail but hey, there's effort involved at least. Today, my brand new depression act is to play the theme from 'A Summer Place' OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER again until my father loses it and starts bludgeoning me to death with the hot iron. Hee hee. Not that it's working, but after watching Stephen King's Rose Red, at least the song helps make me feel better.

And, if last night's toilet incident didn't happen, I would be drinking myself to a quick death by alcohol poisoning now. See, things do happen for a reason.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

PREGNANT BREASTS.

That's right. You get a girl pregnant, her boobies will FILL UP with MILK. From an airport runway we will get oranges. From oranges we will get papayas. From papayas we will get watermelons. From watermelons I'm not sure I want to know what we get next, but it'll probably be something akin to a very very big waterbomb. And all filled with MILK. Approach pregnant women with a nice sharp pin and you'll get MILK SHOWER.

Just the other day, an old of friend of mine, he met a friend of his. A pregnant friend of his. It was a pregnant female friend. She was... female. And very. Very. Pregnant. And not only very very pregnant either. But pregnant enough to have milky boobies. It's like BOOBIES. With MILK. There was much temptation on his part to SQUEEZE. To make her SQUIRT all over his face. To baptize him in all her lactating joy. But, that old friend of mine, he is a man of class and distinction. And thus, there was no squeezage. And consequently, most unfortunately, no squirtage either. But we must pause a moment to deliberate the soft buoyant heavy feel of a pregnant breast.

THINK, if you may, of a swollen balloon filled with warm, almost hot, syrup. Feel that liquid flow lazily as you move it around in the palm of your hand.

...

Mmm. That was some amazing deliberation.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

CHOSEN.

*sob*

Seven seasons. Every single episode. And now it's finally over. It was truly a bittersweet ending, and I love the way they wrapped up Buffy. The final season of Angel won't be around for quite awhile. And for Buffy, this is it. No more rushing home early on Thursday nights for a brand new Buffy episode. No more waiting impatiently for half a year for the next season of Buffy. No more doing "resist the latest Buffy spoiler dance" on Internet. No more people coming up to me and telling me Buffy news cause I'm the only Buffy fan they know. It's been like that for so long, this is going to feel... really weird.

Goodbye, Buffy. Goodbye Willow, Xander, Giles. Goodbye to the rest of the Buffy gang.

Sigh. What am I gonna do now?

*contemplates*

*smiles*

Sunday, October 03, 2004

u keep deadlinks becoz u is sentimental


YES. THAT MIGHT JUST BE RIGHT. So here we go. Removal of dead and inactive links. We shall forget the past and embrace the future. Not really flinging myself into the future, of course. Just taking it one day at a time. And, well, not really forgetting the past either. Just, removing them dead links. Bye bye to:

Cool Chique!
Frosty the Snowflake
Life of a Software Engineer
Moving On
Screwme
Simon Says

And if you people ever start blogging again, drop me a line. I'm only doing this to get over that sentimental issue of mine. Also, your blogs have been dead for... well, ages. It's hard to look at something which hasn't been there for awhile and still think it is.
Company dinner on Friday night at Bayview Beach. A pretty ho-hum affair, except we had Michelle the Last Virgin of Malaysia hosting. And she was a RIOT. I've never laughed so hard so loud in such a long time. Maybe if we got her to start hosting our company meetings, things won't be such a drag. Of course, she's probably a he. No way any girl can be so... uh, feminine.

So most people from the company dressed up nicely. I mean, that's what people usually do for dinners. They dress up. Powder their faces. Perm their hair. Shave their crotches ( yes, some men do that too, those hairless fetishionists ). Me, I whipped out the red shirt I wore for Lay Chin's wedding. Yes, the one with the same shade as the table cloth. I like to blend in. Incidentally, the table cloth last night was red. Almost the same shade too.

Now that they're all dressed up, the girls actually look like girls. They no longer look like "that engineer down the hall". Actually some of them looked like they had too much makeup on, but let's be nice. The pretty girl was prettier, if that's even possible, and of course she was the prettiest in the room. There were quite a lot of people which looked unfamiliar to me - they must have been from the factory - and sad to say, we really need to hire better looking people to work in the factory. Okay, that was me having me moment of meanness. Actually they did look quite nice. One or two of them, anyway. I'm sure the tube and the short tight skirt and the black boots did a lot to make that one girl look good.

Food wasn't that good, but I'm enamoured with the hot and sour Szechuan soup. And the opening dish, which was some hot and cold thingy. That had nice chicken on it. And salad prawn. Oh, we also had "kam heong" deep fried prawns. And weirdly, tandoori chicken was part of the course set. You know, I think I would have enjoyed everything so much more IF I DIDN'T HAVE A FARKING ULCER RIGHT NOW. The ulcer, it makes me gruff. Grumpy. Pissed off. And maybe that's why I've been looking at the world through a blood-red haze these days. God knows, I nearly slammed the IronKok's head off today when I found out his level 23 Amazon had 6924 mana in Diablo 2. Like, WTF?

Anyway, back to the dinner. Entertainment was of course provided by Michelle. There was a short session by our very own inhouse company band, and then it was back to Michelle and her gang. Her gang does dance numbers while lip-synching. The first act was actually good, but the performers seemed to lack energy in the second act.

But, a pretty okay time was had. And of course, pretty girl even prettier, always a pretty thing. Now I'll be excused cause the ulcer? Not being very nice to me.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

So after two years, eight months and twenty seven days, the Kris finally decided to post his second post. And at the same time launch his blogging career too. It's amazing Blogger didn't delete his blog on account of massive inactivity - maybe our Blogger blogs will be around for Eva.

Anyway, yesterday I was dreamily peeing in the toilet when an engineer from China came in, took the urinal next to me and then I started to hear LOUD SPLASHING SOUNDS coming from it. Like, there's your low stream urination ( drippy ), the mid stream urination ( normal mode ) and the strong stream urination ( with which you can sign your name on walls ). Now I know there's the Horse Pee Stance which originates from China, which you use to put out fires. Damn, I had to edge away from him cause I was afraid I would get splashed with his urine. What a prick.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

I have forgotten too much.

Remember.
Remember.
Remember.

Sunday, September 12, 2004

WATER CUT SUNDAY. 8am ( Sunday ) to 12am ( Monday ). Farking hell, the water department must SUFFER for this. They always schedule water cuts on WEEKENDS. When everyone is at home. When people don't go to work. Christ, don't people think anymore?

But YESTERDAY ( Saturday ), I went to watch Puteri Gunung Ledang in Gurney Plaza. There, I found Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose in MPH ( a Vintage Classic ) so I bought it ( woohoo! ). And when I went home, I watched the movie The Name of the Rose ( based on the book ) starring Sean Connery and a very very young Christian Slater. Valentina Vargas was in it too, and they didn't only have her naked boobs inside, but also her asscrack ( MMMM ). I think the book's more intellectual though. But no Valentina Vargas in that. And, if you like pretty boys, no Christian Slater either. I think there might be some Slaterish asscrack around in the movie too, but I was too busy trying to see if we got full frontal nudity of Ms. Vargas. Also, if you're into ambiguously gay older men, there's kissage and very minimal sexual tension between Sean Connery and some balding monk.

But I digress. We're here to talk about Ms. Gunung Ledang 2004, and boy is she hot. The movie's not too bad too.

*Warning Spoilers Ahead*

Let's start with the story. I don't really like it at all. I have a tendency to dislike weepy love stories, and the end got pretty weepy. It's all nice and tragic, something out of a Ravenloft novel. You know what? Maybe there's some kind of love-hate relationship I have with the movie. Cause I did find myself transfixed to the screen. Local movie, semi-epic feel, kinda expensive to make... it's all good. It's just that sad endings are depressing. I mean, I walked into the cinema knowing fully well how it would turn out, but still! Maybe I was hoping they would have disneyfied the ending, eh? Ah, the romantic in me rears its crazy head again.

The cast was good. Again, I have this thing against making the bad guys REALLY obvious. I rather prefer to find out myself who the villains are through their actions. It's both irritating and ridiculous when you can take one look at a character and go, "Oh, so that's the bad guy." I'm really cool with making an expensive movie, but we really need to stop forcefeeding the plot to the audience. But, back to the cast.

M. Nasir plays Hang Tuah, and he was cool. And I think he had a bulging stomach or something. But still, mucho coolness factor there, yeah. He can be my Datuk Laksamana anyday, as long as we don't fall in love with the same girl. But then again, I just want ONE wife, so probably not a problem. Hang Tuah has the ultra-cool silat moves and the ability to summon rain. And he can put down any whippersnapper who dares to challenge him to ukur kesaktian. Actually, that sounds kinda vulgar to me, but no one in cinema said anything, so I held back my chortle. The man truly oozes seriousness and coolness. Except for the meltdown in the mud, but we're all entitled to a nervous breakdown every now and then.

Tiara Jacquelina is the Puteri of Gunung Ledang. She walks around bare-shouldered, but I don't find her VERY HOT. I mean, I'm walking in the forest and I bump into her, of course I'll be doing all manner of indecencies to her that would have gotten me burned at the stake in the old days. But she's not that hot until I will go walk in the forest to find her. Especially now that she has that pesky curse which can make you puke blood and die painfully. First it's AIDS and now it's painful death by blood vomit. We humans sure know how to punish ourselves for carnal pleasure. But, digression. Well, she's kinda pretty and she can manipulate tree roots pretty well so I'm thinking maybe she doesn't need male company after all. You've never sinned 'til you've been greened hehehe.

God-knows-who is that horny sultan. It's a testimony to his acting skills that I'm not bothering to look up this bastard SOB, cause by the end of the movie I truly didn't like him. Really not agreeing with the way they portrayed him though. I expected a bit more class and flair, and the sultan really came off as a thug.

Not so his wife, played by Sofia Jane. She's REALLY HOT. And classy. And elegant. And I really wish they had pornified the movie - Sofia Jane would have murdered the sultan in his sleep, and then she, Tuah and Tiara Jacquelina would have retired to Gunung Ledang for a much needed menage a trois. Sofia totally owned every scene she was in. I've seen many pretty girls in tudungs, but this one really takes home the grand prize of Women In Tudung 2004. There's an ethereal grace to her movements - the poor Raja Muda is going to have one major Oedipus Complex. I did notice a pimple though, but that is merely one blemish on her otherwise ethereal beauty. SHE should have been the Puteri of Gunung Ledang. That would significantly raise the wankability of this movie, cause the princess has to get wet at certain points of the movie ( oooh wet ).

The emperor of Majapahit looks suspiciously familiar, although he walks around looking constipated most of the time. His advisor drags out his words, so he comes out sounding a little weird. The Datuk Bendahara is everything you would expect a prime minister to be, and more. I don't know why he comes off a bit like Geoffrey Rush's character in Elizabeth. Maybe it's all the background political scheming. And that's cool.

Melaka itself was a letdown. Here I was, expecting this bustling port city with Chinamen with pigtails, Arabs in turbans and the occasional European walking around. Basically, I have this image of Melaka as THE port of call to be trading in back in those days. I envisioned many different kinds of ships docked at the port. Chinese junks and stuff like that. Instead, I got a kampung where they had to land sampans on beaches. COME ON! Where did all the money for the film go to! At least have the decency to get some university students with too much free time to do a CG representation of Melaka! Or at least put in some Chinamen damnit. Melaka as a trading port just isn't complete without the Chinamen. We NEED the Chinamen.

Well, in the end, I was watching the movie in rapt attention. It's kinda lengthy, but I realized that I actually found the dance / love scene between Tiara Jacquelina and Hang Tuah to be romantic ( there were complaints that part was boring ). Like, REALLY romantic. There they are, bound by laws of society and decency and shit like that so they can't do the hot and sweaty, so they opt for the sexual tension-charged dance instead. Okay, actually the censorship board said no sex, so someone put in a dance scene instead of a love scene. I mean, there're feelings of love involved and it's physical. Surprisingly, it worked remarkably well. The movie did a good job building up the love between Hang Tuah and Tiara Jacquelina so that you actually feel for them at the end.

So there it is. Puteri Gunung Ledang, in all her Javanese glory. A epic? Maybe not on part with Braveheart, but we're getting there. A movie about love, loyalty, abuse of sacred rights... go watch it, yeah. It's a movie which makes supporting the local film industry truly worth it. I actually wouldn't mind owning this on DVD. Actually, this one has an incredible soundtrack too.

The Verdict: There is much to like about Puteri Gunung Ledang.
Gunung Ledang or Pontianak?: Without a doubt, Puteri Gunung Ledang. Better production values, gripping story, and you can never go wrong with Hang Tuah.
Maya Karin, Aleya, Sofia Jane or Tiara Jacquelina?: Without a doubt, Sofia Jane. Especially in Puteri Gunung Ledang. Maya Karin was sweet, Tiara Jacquelina is good for a roll in the forest, you just want to shut Aleya up by stuffing some body part or something in her mouth. But SOFIA JANE. WINNER.

Saturday, August 28, 2004

It's not about right, not about wrong. It's about power.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Sometimes, it's good to be really smashed. For one, it forces you to actually concentrate when you type. To get rid of them pesky spelling and grammar mistakes. Trust me. It's not easy when your head weighs a ton. Secondly, it really helps with the forgetting. Not that it's really helping now. Every keystroke on the keyboard sounds WAY too loud. But. It's not so bad. Just focusing on getting everything else right is hard enough.

So. What do we talk about today? I'm tempted to do "What A Failure I Am", but that's so cliched. My friends have heard it so many times it's actually tiring now. But you know, that's what I'm feeling now. BUT. We don't talk about it. We swallow our failures and we live with it. Actually, maybe we should just live it. Makes hard men out of us all in the morning. Now if I can grow stubble and start going to a gym...

Okay. What about OED? You know you've hit a new low when hitting your back causes your stomach to wobble. *giggle* Wobble. Heh heh. Natt wobbled all right. BUT. Wobble my stomach did. And that's not funny. It's disturbing. Cause I really don't want to wobble. It's probably the reason why I move so slowly these days. Like, slow motion. And it irks me. It irks me a lot. I'm like this great white whale walking around.

Damnit. The effects are wearing off. And I'm out of vodka.
So my manager decided to have lunch with me and another guy today. Doesn't mean that we're on the fastrack up the promotion ladder. Actually it's quite the opposite. Man feels his engineers are slipping, calls them out for a motivational-demotivational lunch. He tries, yeah. I mean, the man takes time to connect with us, find out our aspirations, stuff like that. That's effort. Unfortunately, I'm wired weird of late. That must be why I'm kinda demotivated right now.

But that's okay. Cause in KFC today, I met... FAZIRA THE VAMPIRE SLAYER!

Well actually she just looks like a very cute Faith [Eliza Dushku] sans the wicked coolness. What she lacks in hotness ( cause seriously, it's hard to be as hot as Faith, let alone hotter ) she makes up in sweetness. It'll be really funny though, seeing her running around dusting stuff while wearing her tudung and all.

Monday, August 23, 2004

I'm suffering from OED. Obsessive Eating Disorder. I obsess about food the whole day, even when I'm not hungry. Come to think about it, I've been obsessing about food especially when I'm not hungry. I haven't been hungry for a long time. Still, I eat. This has led to an increase in abdomen bloatiness. I think the internal farting is helping a lot with the bloat. It's been happening for some time now. Everytime I fart, instead of farting outwards, I fart inwards. It's not very amusing when deadly fart smells which should have been distributed into the immediate vicinity is instead swallowed back inside. I guess this means there's a lot of gas in me now. At least I don't burp inwards. That would be disgusting.

I can't seem to stop eating though. And that's worrying. Second largest worry is the internal farting. It's been so long since I last smelled my own fart.

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Irritating:
People who go "YES!!!" way too loudly when they manage to get things working. I try not to care, but when you're wrapped up in deep concentration inside a room silent save for mouse clicks and keyboard clackings, it's VERY annoying. The kind of annoying that makes you want to stand up and pump a few bullets into those bastards' heads. A FEW bullets, mind you, in the HEAD, to make sure they'll never ever again go "YES!!!" and bring forth a rush of anger in others.

It's not that I'm saying people shouldn't display happiness or anything. However, in an environment where the other guy might be desperately losing it because his stuff can't work, perhaps happiness should best be internalized. Go jack off in the toilet ("I did it! I did it! AAAAAAAAA" *shudder*). Or go post your success in a blog or something.

Today I managed to get my software working. YES! YES!! YES!!! I'm jacking off now to celebrate! AAAAAAAAA *shudder*


There. That isn't too hard, is it? That way, you get to announce to the world, people who read your blog will know that you've achieved something with your miserable life, innocent bystanders won't think anymore badly of you and the sexual gratification? Always a good thing. We end up with a cosy win-win situation for everybody involved. Except for the toilet cleaner, maybe, who'll have to deal with dried patches of something which turn sticky upon contact with water.

Friday, August 20, 2004

So the panic button's been pushed. HARD. Ever had a good panic? I'm having one now. Hate these panic attacks though. Unlocks my inner OCD and now I can't stop eating all food in sight or drinking coffee. And I think my eyes are starting to look kinda weird too. Omygodomygodomygod.

Well, at least Manic Me has nothing but work on the mind. This trip into working hell gives me a break from the soap opera that is my life.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

My power comes from my boundless rage.

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Today I learned:
  • Rejection can sometimes be very costly.
  • What my friends really thought about me.
  • Most people will never believe you can change.
  • How the laughing clown can be crying inside.
  • Giving up is so much easier than going on.
I would have preferred never having to learn all this in one day. But if I didn't, I would never have learned this:
  • Fighting the good fight is so much harder than it seems.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Sometimes, when I screw up, I feel that the person who has the hardest time forgiving me is myself. The amount of guilt I can happily pile upon myself can be voluminous. My self-flagellation is ruthless, which is why I have no self-esteem. One mistake and what meagre little self pride I've been able to scrape for myself will be destroyed.

What happened?

I was late. For a meeting. Which could have seriously gone south had my quick-thinking colleague not pull a rabbit out of the hat and stall the meeting with a very plausible reason. I really owe her for that. There was guilt, of course. A whole lot of what-ifs which kept on repeating themselves over and over in my head. Of course, I'm going to have hell to pay tomorrow when my managers find out what a close call I just had.

But after the meeting, I was feeling kinda down. Got into the "whip thyself" groove and kept on pelting myself with "YOU BASTARD YOU ARE FAILURE" thoughts. However, I've been working hard to get myself out of brood mode into contemplative mode ever since last year. It still needs a little refinement. I still need to reduce the cycle time. Tonight, though, I jumpstarted the process by actually telling someone about it.

And absolution came in three words:

Everyone makes mistakes.


I guess I just needed someone to tell me that. Forgiveness.

Monday, August 09, 2004

Some people think they have issues. They don't know what having issues is all about. It's all about the shit you shit out.

I haven't been able to shit for the past few days. When I fart, it smells like something is rotting inside me. There's this stench of putrified fruit around me for at least ten minutes after I fart. I didn't know smell could be clingy.

But that's not all. This morning I managed to actually shit. Like the stench, the shit was clingy. And kinda soft. But there were hard bits of something inside, cause it felt like it was ripping off pieces of my ass on the way out. To top it all off, the first piece came out at a 45 degree angle. HELLO? WEIRD, MUCH?

Saturday, August 07, 2004

I hate dreams sometimes. Especially the perfect ones. I had one of those last night. In that dream, everything was well in my life. I got the girl, I got the waffles and baked onions from McDonald's, my bosses were suddenly understanding. Then I woke up. And I punched the wall next to my bed when I realized that everything was just a dream. For the reality is far, far from the dream. The cold Saturday morning greeted me with a loud "Welcome Back to Reality, Loser".

But as my mind slowly woke up a little more, the sting of that dream lessened. It's like how the morning swiftly chases nightmares away. In time, the memory of that dream will fade away, and all I'll have left is "Yeah, I did wake up a mite cranky, but I'm feeling better now".

For now, I'll just go take a bath, put on my weekend clothes and go back to work.

Monday, August 02, 2004

I've been agonizing over this for so long. Why can't I get into a perfect working environment? I loved my first job - made some great friends there - but I had to leave cause they were going to fire me. In my second job I learned the meaning of solitude. But I also managed to do a lot of weird shit. And now, in this job, we have the ultimate in today's fast-paced working environment - The Colleague From Hell ( hereby known as TCFH ).

In my first job, it was the bosses who were out to get us. And that was cool. In my second job there was no such thing. No one really gave a shit as long as you got the job done. And now, just about the perfect environment. Just about. With the exception of TCFH. The bastard you want to kill. The asshole you want to drown in the toilet bowl but you know what, screw torture. Let's just kill the shiteater. TCFH's very existence is the bane of my existence. The working environment is perfect as long as that scumbag doesn't come to work.

But what is life without someone who gets on your nerves just by living? If anything, it'll be a lesson in "LOVING YOUR ENEMIES". That's right. We must "LOVE OUR ENEMIES". Turn a blind eye. Judge not by the fact that you want to bash in their faces for looking like how they look, but judge them by what and who they are. And if that still doesn't stop you from wanting to kick their intestines out... well...

WELL THEN YOU STILL HAVE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM DAMNIT. This bloody world doesn't work unless each and every one of us give our best effort to make it work. And holding on to petty dislikes is an example of NOT giving your best. So swallow your dislikes, put away your uncompromising hatred and accept those bastards for who they are.

Here endeth the lesson.

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Day 3 of caffeine withdrawal.

Being all low and demotivated, I decided that perhaps I needed a little victory in my life to bring my spirits up. So I told my boss that yes, I might be able to finish my initial coding tasks by next week. Some idiot at the meeting blew it out of proportion and now I have to deliver a prototype by next week.

I need a little victory, not suicide.

Saturday, July 24, 2004

A nice painless death to end my existence would be nice. I know, I've always wanted to go out in a heroic manner, standing in a dark alley in the rain as the forces of darkness advance upon me. Or maybe like Bruce Willis in Armageddon. That would be cool in a final televised-all-around-the-world way.

But sometimes, the burden of failure... it's just plain painful. No wait. This isn't about failing. This is all about being unable to do something. Like how we can't breathe underwater naturally. Or how we can't fly naturally. We just can't. And I just can't. Why even talk about a relationship when I'm not the relationship type? Wanting love and actually being able to give and take love... two totally different things. Like, so many things I could have done to make things different! So many things I could have said! Everything amounts to nothing now. I should kill myself or something, just so that the world doesn't suffer anymore of my innate stupidity. Great natural talent with the royal assholeness, your Proseship. How could anyone be so dense! How could anyone be so dumb! How could anyone like me suffer myself to live!

She was right. I'm just about the most boring person on Earth. You know what, I'm so boring I bored myself tonight. Hence the self-flagellation. I mean, there was ACTUAL self-boredom. I was like, "Christ, this is why I can never get a date to save my own life. I can't even hold a proper conversation." The saddest thing is, I've never bored myself before. And now, I've reached a new level of boredom.

Oh screw it all. More of that Aquavit. More.

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

I've been told today that I shouldn't get married because all marriages end unhappily. After the initial "What the-", I slowly started thinking about it. Is it really true that all marriages end unhappily? That both parties will grow weary and tired of each other? That to "grow old happily together" is just a myth? Or is this all just the bitter musings of some fellow who doesn't listen to what his wife says anymore?

You know what? I think it's all utter bullshit. Marriage, like every other relationship, requires work. You can't just tie the knot and expect everything to fall into place perfectly. The parents-in-law will come in. The children issue will crop up. The question about who pays for what will be asked. Throw in work pressure and "too tired to have sex tonight dear" excuses and the 'new hot trainee in the office' temptation and yes, marriage will be trying.

Then again, if marriage were so easy, it wouldn't be worth it, would it? And that's the thing about getting married. People always think it's easy. And the whole thing comes crashing down when they realize that most marriages will require a lot of work from both parties. You think it's easy living with another person for an extended period of time? If you both don't start developing homicidal feelings towards each other, one of you will bore the hell out of the other. So it's either the vicious fights, the nights of infidelity, the complete and utter silence or all of the above and more. I mean, so much shit can go wrong in a marriage so why even bother, right?

I do wonder. And it gives me pause. Do I even want to get into the hassle of a relationship? The most significant results of my past relationships have been a lot of grief, emotional torment and even a trip down the road of alcoholism. But, I have to remember the happy times I've had. There's never a better feeling than being with the person you love. That happy jump your heart makes everytime she calls you up on the phone with that sweet "hello". Her laugh when you tell her a genuinely funny joke after a couple of dozen jokes which weren't really funny in the first place. When you look back at the mess that is your life, at least you can point out these times when you were actually happy. And you can say that at one point in time at least, someone found you worthy enough to call you her own and to have you call her your own. Of course, things went to hell after that but then happened the most significant result of the relationship - emerging alive and ( maybe ) a little stronger than before. Or maybe more desensitized towards emotions but you get what I mean.

So what have I learned from all that? The obvious. Relationships take constant work. Marriage is no different. It's like that saying - "the price of freedom is eternal vigilance". Likewise, "the price of a happy relationship is constant effort at keeping it alive". You could hope that things will work out by themselves but really, things can only deteriorate if you leave them unattended to. Your relationship becomes like a dilapidated house, with broken awnings and cracked window panes and who on Earth would want to live in a house like that? No wonder the floor just drops away and the relationship is over.

So. Marriages can work out fine. If the parties involved are willing to make it work by putting effort into it.

Monday, July 19, 2004

Sometimes, it's like no matter how bad things were in the past, they can only get worse as you grow older. I have to admit, I was content in my old job. All the solitude you can ever ask for, 9.00am - 5.30pm job, no weekends. Staying back late at work was so rare people thanked you when that happened.

And then I decided that maybe a lot of work would help my mind not think of certain things. And so I left my old job for the one I'm currently in. Now I'm in the office by 7.30am and the earliest I ever leave work is 8.00pm ( except for Thursday nights, but that's because there's Buffy and Angel on Astro ). I'm also back in the office on weekends.

Worse, I'm no longer contented. Solitude is safe. With people, things get a little dangerous. You form alliances, you make friends but in the end, you just know you're going to be alone all over again ( cause everything, like life, is temporary ). I've traded an eternity of boredom for an environment filled with turmoil and fluid situations. For a few dollars more I've sacrificed my personal time to the company. I'm so smart, I've turned myself into the one thing I promised myself I'll never be when I first set out to work after graduation. Christ, what a screwup. I don't even like what I'm doing much. You just know things are going downhill when you're happy to reach home after your programming job just so that you can do your own programming stuff.

Bitter! Bitterness! How can the world bring forth such bitterness! It's like bile rising up from deep within!

But I can moan and whine and pity myself all I want and in the end it'll all be the same. The only thing that will change how things work is action. ACTION! Like resigning. Or hacking my boss to death with a keyboard. Oh well. Back into the fray. Work work work...

Sunday, July 18, 2004

I guess that at the moment, nothing beats listening to Mandarin ballads on a Saturday night ( thank ye kindly, Flossflake ) and talking to your friends over ICQ ( thank ye kindly, Flossflake ). There was that Pitch Black viewing just a little bit earlier which got me all amped up to be Vin Diesel all over again. The man rocks, yeah. Every guy should want to be like him, black goggles and all. But after all the excitement and pitch blackness, you just want to sit down and wait the night out cause really, it's a Saturday night. Enjoy the peace and the ballads.

And maybe watch an episode of Millennium. First, there is action. Then, there are the peaceful thoughts with slow ballads. And to make the night complete, end it all with 40 minutes of disturbing quality television.

Yeah. Welcome to Saturday night.

Saturday, July 17, 2004

And then, there are the Willows of the world who do that soul restoration thing. One moment you feel like you're stuck at the bottom of the ocean, feral and too easily provoked. And just like that, you're back to normal, once again with that chilling perspective of the world which kinda freaks people out when you share it with them ( so you don't share it anymore ). A big hug and a thank you to them.

Last night till today seems like such a long journey. At the same time, it was also strangely refreshing. It's like one of those refreshing long journeys. Like coming out of a bus in Cameron Highlands and feeling the cold chilly wind blow against you and realizing that maybe things aren't so bad after all.

And this week's update:
Fye is leaving Penang for Cyberjaya. And the office gets a little bit more broody.
Life is turning into the Angel season 3 finale. So many things happening... it's like how things were going so well, and now they're all falling apart. The only difference between the finale and my life now is:

1. There isn't a Cordelia on her way to rendezvous with me to tell me how much she loves me.
2. I'm actually looking forward to spending the next three months going mad with hunger at the bottom of the ocean. Cause that will give me perspective. Kind of an M. C. Escher perspective, but I'll get time to think.

Well, I'm just feeling rather soulless.

Monday, July 12, 2004

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

I made it through the year
And you would think
Losing someone so dear
Would drive me to the brink

Well, I did go mad
And there was much insanity
Much pain, and all was bad
Sinking further into depravity

A hollow shell that walked
A lost shadow that talked
Alone in isolation
Filled with empty desolation

But hope springs eternal
Filling up this vessel
As the spark in my eyes came back
And spirit I no longer lacked

There's always tomorrow
For there can't always be sorrow
And perhaps in the next story
The ending might even be happy.

1999 - 2003
I Loved Her A Lot

Monday, July 05, 2004

Tomyam on an empty stomach. Not one of my terribly bright ideas. I think the sourness and spiciness of my dinner is giving me cramps now. Ow. Ow. Ow. I think my mood is rapidly deteriorating towards the general direction of eXtreme grumpiness. Ow. This tomyam is evil.

Anyway, it's been a horrible weekend. Horror, horror. There was this crisis, and that crisis, and in between all the crises I even managed to snag some quality time with my DVDs. One of the thornier crises actually got resolved this afternoon, so I'm finally coming out of BroodMode and rejoining the living. And it's such a heavy burden which has been lifted from my shoulders. Sure, there's that sting of insecurity and the overwhelming feeling of unwantedness left but hey, better some life then no life. At least now I can sleep. Gah. What a mess that was.

Okay. OW. Damn tomyam. At least now I can stretch my body a little. I asked everyone in the office out for dinner but everyone turned me down. But hey, if you're at the office at 8pm, you're probably rushing for something. Unlike me. I've nowhere left to go but home anyway. Might as well get some work done and soak up the air-cond.

And oh... tomyam? OW.

Friday, July 02, 2004

That's the problem with hope. It makes you do the whacky. Makes you think that the world isn't such a bad place after all. Makes you believe that the future might be more than a bleak emptiness.

That's hope for you. Cause when none of that comes to fruition, the walls come crashing down. The spirit dies a little, the dreams turn to ashes, the light in the eyes fades to a pallid dullness. You know what they say about hope keeping people going? For every success story that you hear, there're a million others which ended with much unhappiness. She hoped that her son would come see her as she lay dying, but he never turned up. He hoped he would get the job, but the company never called him back. They hoped he would come visit them in the old folks' home, but he never came.

I think it's very human to hope. You want something, you look forward to getting it... what else can you do but make believe that you will get it? It's all fine when you actually get it. It's when you don't, that's when things don't look too well for you. Sometimes, it might be something small. Insignificant, even. But enough of these failed little things, or maybe just one big hope which didn't come out like how you wanted it to, and maybe it starts eating into you.

It's also very human to bounce back from disappointments. Life is harsh and challenging, and maybe that's why there lies within each of us the resilient ability to stand up again after getting our hopes dashed to pieces, give the world the finger and ask it "Is that all you've got?". Sometimes, we might even come back stronger. Though most times wiser and possibly a little less more arrogant than we were before.

You know what? I think I'm getting pretty preachy in my old age. Fack. But let's look at it from a certain perspective. Last time, I used to get all suicidal. Between last time and now, I got all world-destructive. Now, I just get a little preachy, listen to songs a little weepy, maybe even sit around and be a little broody. I believe I might have grown a little bit more as a person.

And a couple of my friends are celebrating their birthdays today. Them and Michelle Branch. So to those ladies,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

I detest the need for despair and forlornness before my inner demon can kick in and start getting stuff done. Yet somehow, that is how things appear to work. Strike me down, and I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Well, maybe not that powerful, but at least something inside starts rollin' rollin' rollin' and all of a sudden, hey, some things actually get accomplished during work.

It's like, pain is the fuel that motivates. So does anger and a whole hoard of other negative feelings but nothing's as good as that wretched heartbreak which swallows you whole. Occasionally, you get one which is so overwhelming you shut down for the better part of a year. And then you come back. More powerful than you can possibly imagine. And if not more powerful then at least you've gotta be glad that you didn't do anything really dumb when you were really down. Well, marginally glad, at least. After all, if one were completely at peace... why, then, what is there left to life?

Only the truly dead are at peace. The undead shamble around somewhat, and the live ones among us, we go around making a bigger mess of the mess our ancestors made before us. Along the way, we gather all manner of pain and suffering onto ourselves and somehow, that kinda makes life worth living. Not to the extreme that we go around killing each other and beheading other people. Nah, that's completely missing the point of the whole issue that is life. I'm talking about the crapfest that life seems to be. Work. Romance ( or lack of ). Sex ( or extreme lack of ). Emotional baggage. Family. Friends. Those farking bastards who like to park in my lot at work ( "And if you shiteaters are reading this, you stay out of my farking lot or I will park my car up your soon-to-be extremely bloody and enlarged ass!" ).

Yeah. Well. I needed to get that out. With the rain these days, no one's been able to come early to play musical parking lots with me. But you know, issue's been around for sometime. Now's as good a time as any to clear the air up on that. Bleh.

I digress. Back to the pain and the horror, the horror, the blablabla... come on, man. We get hit, we get up again. Our friends drag us down, our other friends who might not be so real after all drag us up again. Our boss shafts us, we plan to stuff both our legs up him in the near future. Life is all about the PAIN and the CHALLENGE and the HORROR. And yeah, we're supposed to tell life to BRING IT ON.

It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.

Sunday, June 27, 2004

Sarah McLachlan's songs bring to mind the more carefree days of university life in UM. It doesn't matter which song she sings - they all have that Sarah McLachlan quality to them. Back in the day, I used to listen to Mirrorball songs played over the air, and even Bentong Chris had the entire album. These days, we have Afterglow with 'Fallen'. And everytime I hear it, I suddenly get this swift glimpse of me driving down Jalan University pass the Section 17 traffic lights towards SS2 during the day. It's very Frank Black in a nostalgic not-really-useful way. I'm thinking, it either means I've somehow developed reactionary nostalgic flashbacks ( which would be cool if it were a harbinger to a more useful yet deadly talent ), or I've been watching one episode too many of Millennium.

Saturday, June 26, 2004

I think there is a nun.
Heh.
Hehe.
HehehehAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Things have to get bad after they get good, don't they?

We have last night. Minute apocalyptic event, more on the scale of "end of the career" than of the usual "end of the world". Last minute work, a semi-all-nighter I would only attempt on a Friday. But we do what we must, and so there I was, punching away frantically ( I think the 'D' key is dying ) at my keyboard while the IronKok next to me provided technical support to a bunch of Israelis. But no matter how futile my efforts were, I was ready to take on the world. For a good thing happened, and when there are such things in our lives, we feel that life is worth fighting for. And so we fight.

Today, the good thing was taken away. No, ripped away cruelly without a second thought. This action is accompanied by a massive deflation on my part. Massive. I faced the possible end of my career last night with an impish grin, but now that the dust has settled, I once again look at the desolation of my life. Grim. Grey. That still blasted landscape of dead dreams and shattered hopes.

Which, come to think about it, isn't so bad. I especially like the different shades of greyness and the black jagged rocks. Makes for a nice break from all the colours I'm exposed to everyday.

At least the soupy beehoon I ate last night by the Seagate seashore is killing my stomach now. All that extra chilli sure can work wonders. I probably shouldn't have taken so much black pepper gravy for lunch today, but if I hadn't, then I wouldn't be in pain now. And what would my toilet sessions be without SKIN-SCALDINGLY HOT SHIT? Geez, I think the toilet paper totally wilted away when I wiped my ass earlier. That's what I call chilli.

Friday, June 18, 2004

Part two of Malaysian Idol. This one's held in Kuching, which actually has statues of giant cats. And I thought the name was just a name. Then again, Penang has pinang trees on the flag, so I really shouldn't be poking fun at other states.

Maybe I'm just feeling too tired, but this episode seems somewhat meaner and less fun than the last one. Or perhaps the novelty of seeing my fellow Malaysians autohumiliate themselves on national television has worn off. I couldn't bring myself to watch the whole show. Not that I watched the whole show the last time round, but at least there was a little bit more interest and concentration.

Here's the phrase that brought me out of my room to see what was going on:

"It's amazing how someone as beautiful as you can sing so horribly. You're beautiful. But please don't sing."


And then we had a shot of the girl in tears.

It wasn't all bad though. Julian the dance instructor actually came back for Round Two. Apparently, he took offence when Roslan told him that he couldn't sing, so he flew to Kuching and sang "Go the Distance." And managed to get himself a ticket to the next stage of the show! Man's got game, yeah. Shows what GOING THE DISTANCE ( Penang to Kuching ) can do for you.

Things really went out of whack when it came to that girl in white who wrote her own song or something. After they told her that she was not singing but shouting, she kept on begging for a chance to sing another song because the song she sang wasn't suitable for her. Come on, lady, even *I* know when to quit. So she went out, ranted ranted ranted, cried a bit and then, apparently went on record to tell the judges what she REALLY thought about them. And the nice thing was, those kind people over at Malaysian Idol put her rant up when the credits rolled. I wonder if she felt pride or embarassment when she saw herself on television.

So, yet another transvestite:

Roslan: "You're the singer who looks like a girl and sounds like a boy."
Paul: "A man! man!"
Roslan: "And I think you're the most beautiful contestant."


Maybe Roslan's kinda gay. I don't know. At least the guy won a spot. On the other hand, we have another pitiful one:

"I really really love this field. Just because of this malaysian idol and... i waiting for one weeks."


Dude, I love writing and programming too, and I'm still a mere hack at both. Like what the judges said, I too fear that your voice is not at that level yet, and I do appreciate you coming from so far away to take part in the competition, but you've really got to go.

And Aleya just gets hotter and hotter. And hotter. And hotter. You get the idea. She should have more air time. Maybe they could make a sitcom for her... "Hanya Aleya", where we get to see A LOT of her. It's odd how someone can be so annoying yet strangely desirable in an abusive kind of way. Grrrr... check this article out. The first photo where she does that host thingy at the jazz band awards. She can do elegance so well! And perky annoying equally well too! Versatile! We should make her Malaysian Idol!

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Bosses sometimes work on a logic different from the common person's. If you want an engineer to stay back late, you would think that letting him eat during tea break would be a good idea. Eat during tea, fill up the stomach, engineer can stay back later in a grudgingly happy state of mind. But, if engineer doesn't eat tea, engineer is already hungry by the time it's time to go home. And that wouldn't be a good thing if the engineer is going to run off home for dinner and is not planning to go back to the office until the next day. Don't hold the engineer back during tea break! It adds to the negative feelings seething inside and it'll only erode the will to work hard for the company.

Ah, the joys of working life. Sometimes it makes you feel like opting out of this chickenshit outfit and migrating to Springfield, Missouri to join the farming community there. The occasional flood might raise the mortality rate occasionally, but at least the food's good and the beer's cheap. And there, I will be master of my own destiny. And master of my own farm. But not master of the floods. Or master of the lack of money to set up a farm to begin with. Or master of the economical embargoes which might be imposed on immigrant Asians who have a tendency to speak quickly in a strange and off-putting way. Oh dash it all, you just can't win.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

War Journal Entry

The pain I inflict upon myself is but a reminder of how much pain the world is in. It is also a foreshadowing of how much pain I will inflict upon the world in future. I push myself hard - harder than I've ever pushed myself before. Suddenly, the trappings of work fade away from an overwhelming responsibility to an annoying itch. The allure of earthly pleasures become but a mere whisper in the woods. There is nothing left but the MISSION.

All will soon come to pass, but the time is not now. And that is good, for I am not yet prepared. I have been caught unawares before, but this time, I shall stand for judgment. And I don't intend to be found wanting. It is my judges who will be found wanting, and I will give them the same lack of mercy they have given me.

They will pay! The whole world will pay! YEAAAAAAAARGH!

Saturday, June 12, 2004

The early morning sky was still dark, with just a hint of light starting to creep in among the clouds. Jeff guided the Impala into the Avis parking lot slowly. As we went over the one-way bumps, something at the back of my mind wondered if this time, the tyres would explode on the sharp spikes of those bumps.

"Check out that bump," Shrish had said on the day we took the car out of the parking lot. The three of us looked out of the Impala and were impressed.

"That's how Avis keeps their cars inside the parking lot. See the way the spikes point inwards? Cars going in will go over the bump and over those spikes safely. But those going out will get their tyres punctured. The only way out is through the other lane."

"Nasty," commented Jeff as he drove us out of the lot. I had nodded agreeably, wondering why the tyres never hit the spikes when we drove in.

The Impala was eased into one of many long rows of cars. Jeff killed the engine, and I handed him the Avis documents. I realized that this would probably be the last time I hear the warning chimes that sounded when the engine was off with the keys still in the ignition. The sound of our doors opening woke Shrish up.

"Let's go, Shrish," Jeff said as he got out of the car.

The trunk door unlocked with the press of a button, and I lifted it up. The three of us started to unload our bags silently. The cold morning air washed over us, a gentle reminder that this was our last morning in America.

As Jeff went off to settle the rental matters with the Avis attendant, Shrish and I slowly transported our luggage to the shuttle terminal. I took a glance back at the Impala. Unlike the Blazer we rented earlier, this one I managed to drive around quite a bit. By then, I had really grown fond of it. And that's quite a lot for a guy who didn't like automatic gears and power steerings, everything the Impala was about. There was a thrill about slamming your foot down on the accelerator and making the car leap forward, the gears automatically changing themselves. The bulkiness and the handling took a little getting used to, but the awkwardness soon wore off after a few trips from the hotel to the plant. It was a car to be missed.

"Well, that's that," I said to myself as the shuttle bus pulled up next to the terminal.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, man," I turned to Shrish as I caught sight of Jeff hurrying towards us. "Let's get these bags on the bus, eh."

As the bus started heading out, I gave the Impala one last look. All nice and white in the brightening day. Maroon 5 started singing over the bus' speakers.

I was so high I did not recognize
The fire burning in her eyes
The chaos that controlled my mind
Whispered goodbye and she got on a plane
Never to return again
But always in my heart

This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore

Friday, June 11, 2004

Because of Paul Moss.
What did he do?
He said I'm terrible.


And that's how I got sucked into Malaysian Idol. Never thought much about American Idol - bunch of people from the other side of the world singing... bleh. We have that on MTV too, and those sing better. But this... this is local. The Malaysian flavour. It's very different when you see your fellow countryfolks giving it their best shot. It's kinda like how local porn is always better than porn from anywhere else ( with the possible exception of Germany ).

The auditions for this - the first episode - were held in PISA, Penang. Like all little sisters are wont to do, Vicky and her little friends actually went over there to have a looksee, but they only let contestants in ( well, duh ). The hosts appeared all over Penang when they were doing that commentating thingy - there were shots of the Penang Bridge in the background, some Chinese temple and then they were standing at Fort Cornwallis. So they got to tour the state and commentate. Wonderful.

The show itself is really fun. If the contestants are not females, they're transvestites. Or very very sensitive guys. What will people from out of the country think when they watch Malaysian Idol! And the songs! I do so love listening to Isabella getting destroyed on national television. Isabella and a whole bunch of other songs in all the languages. Most of them offkey and offtiming. I look forward to voting in future!

The Judges:
Roslan Aziz aka Randy Jackson
Fauziah Latiff aka Paula Abdul
Paul Moss aka Simon Cowell

The Hosts:
Sharifah Aleya [ HOT ]
Soo Kui Jien

You know, the judges are pretty close to their American counterparts. Roslan's funny in a Malay pakcik manner though. Overall, the three are pretty likeable. And Aleya... OMG. Damn, how can a girl be so annoying and sexy at the same time? She... uh... <mega unprintable thoughts>. Maybe I should go write a story or touch myself about her. Get it out of the system, yeah. At any rate, she and Jien weren't so bad at doing that hosting thing. Von Darke and I might have been able to do a better job, but then the censorship board would be dealing with rather politically incorrect comments and possibly quite a number of strong vulgar words.

And then, of course, we have the stars of the show. Those nice Malaysians who were Entertainment Tonight. There were a whole lot of them auditioning - here are a few I can remember off the top of my head.

The Contestants:
Vic [ IN ] - The guy who wept on TV as he talked about how his mother helped him reach the pinnacle of Malaysian stardom. He emits "soft" vibes. People might just see him as the next Clay Aiken or something. Unfortunately, he got to go on to the next stage. Knowing how the world likes to work against me, he might just end up as this year's Malaysian Idol. Or worse, a bloody social virus like Clay.

Shima ( or Sheema ) [ IN ]- Proposed to one of the male judges ( and got a "I'm married." for her efforts ) after they told her "yes dear, you can move on to the next stage". She's not so bad.

Julian [ OUT ]- A dance instructor ("Put your right hip forward!!"). Sang Edelweiss. Got booted out for being Most Nervous Guy the judges had ever seen. And there was something about the nose moving about too much. He's very photogenic though. Poor chap. At least he's not giving up. That's the spirit!

Hoshi Sato's Twin Brother [ OUT ] - Sang Four Non-Blondes' What's Up?. So the guy has long hair and a feminine voice. I thought he sounded pretty good, but maybe the judges have something against cross-gendered idols.

Alan [ MOST PROBABLY OUT ] - Who danced as he sang a Chinese song. I nearly killed my kidneys laughing.

The Guy who Bought a Bow from Kamdar and could Sing in Multiple Languages [ WRONGFULLY OUT ] - Damn, how could he not go on to the next stage? Dumbass judges. I suspect he got kicked out because he didn't look good. Dude, if you really understand all those languages you're singing in, go run for Chief Minister of Penang instead.

Some male dancer who has ambiguous sexual orientation [ SO FARKING OUT - AND FOR GOD'S SAKE DON'T COME BACK ] - I thought he was going to put his dance moves to work, but he just stood there and massacred some song. Got booted out for inventing new notes for the song he 'sang'. They should have shot him instead.

Well, that sure was a fantastic start. I like, even though there was much relief after the show ended ( ow my head ). Next week... Kuching! Here's hoping East Malaysia will provide us with more fun and laughter. If not, there's Aleya. And if all else fails, I'm sure the judges will utterly humiliate and demoralize another bunch of hopeful wannabes. And that's fun to watch too.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Tonight we spin the bottle.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

I have found the solution to my jetlag issue.

VODKA!

Vasparov, to be exact. Three shots gulped down in a sequential fashion. That got my head pretty heavy last night. Heavy enough to keep me asleep until the annoying beeping of my alarm clock woke me up. But it was a good sleep. I'm delighted I didn't do that 4.30am rise-from-the-dead ritual which I seem to have been doing ever since my return from America. All that sleep is almost worth the price I'm paying now.

HANGOVER!

Oh my head. My facking - FACKING - head.

Sunday, June 06, 2004

I just came back from watching Pontianak Harum Sundal Malam and OMG it's FANTASTIC. I can't remember the last time I've been so engrossed in a local Malaysian production ( not counting Kehidupan Seorang Pramugara Yang Terlampau and that Datin home video *cough* ). The haunting song, the pretty decent acting, the story... maybe I've been watching too many mindless slasher flicks, but this movie, I like.

But what is there to like, detractors of the local film industry might ask? Quite a few people thought I had lost my marbles when I told them I was planning to watch this movie.

"You want to watch a Malay movie? Come on!"
"But it's a pontianak movie!"
"Still!"

As you can see, not many people I know have faith in local productions. Me, I'm game as long as we have hideously beautiful women flying around. Cause deadly long fingernails, long hair and the ability to levitate? I've always found that fascinating in a girl. Anyway, following do find a list of points I feel strongly about regarding the movie.

1. Maya Karin
Hotness. I prefer her looking lost and innocent ( second half of the film ) as opposed to her having that primadonna look ( first half of the film ). Not that it really matters. I'll do her even when she's in pontianak mode, with blood running down from her eyes et al. This is why I always advise my guy friends to have a nail and a hammer handy at all times. You never know when a pontianak looking like Maya Karin is going to swoop down on you and attempt to gut you. Sidestep that lethal lunge, grapple that supernatural hottie to the floor, pound that nail into the back of her head and make her your bitch. Or you could pound the nail into the back of her head last after you've made her your bitch ( to, you know, make her your bitch for life ). I imagine it's quite an experience, making it with a pontianak while she's still in pontianak mode. You know what? Let's just toss the nails and the hammer away. Instead, knock her out with something heavy ( like say, a wrench or a laptop ) and then chain her to your basement for future make-her-your-bitch fun. There's nothing like your personal pontianak sex slave.

2. The Haunting Song
Which is still stuck in my head. Ow. It's... it's beautiful. There's something really eerie and sexy about the tune, sorta like the soundtrack of the Mask of Zorro meets the soundtrack of the Mummy meets traditional Arabian music. It helps that beatiful Maya Karin was humming / singing it a lot in the movie. I think the song will fit in rather well with a fast-paced Mexican motif. Damn my lack of musical talent! It would have been fun turning it into a polyphonic tone for my T720.

3. The Story
Some people might find it slow. Too slow. There're entire scenes filled with just dancing. But since it's Maya Karin doing the gamelan, it's pretty engrossing. I don't know how this movie will hold up during future rewatches, but for a first watch, things didn't get too slow for me. Plotwise, I think it could have been better. Maybe a few more deaths and a little more bloodshed. Instead of expanding more on the pontianak mythos, they went the way of the drama and the people-oriented plot. Not a bad thing, but just something I wished was done differently. The pontianak just didn't get enough screen time!

4. The Acting / Direction
IMHO not one of the stronger points of the movie. I feel that they tried too hard to make things obvious. That Marsani character was really annoying in the 1947 segment of the film. Kudos to Maya Karin for her portrayal of standoffish Meriam and innocent Maria. And I really liked that Danial character - he was likeable from the start. If I were a primadonna, I would marry him too.

5. This is a Pontianak Movie
Americans have Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Malaysians have pontianaks. I grew up reading stories of those American and European bloodsuckers ("I am... Drakula."), but I also grew up listening to my grandmother and my grandaunty telling me stories about pontianaks. So pontianak movie? A must-watch for me.

6. This Is A Malaysian Production
It's not often I feel proud to be a Malaysian. In fact, I haven't felt proud of my nationality in a long time. But as the credits rolled, there was much pride as I thought, "Man, we did that." I mean, I'm proud to be Malaysian because we have excellent roti canai along Transfer Road, but that just isn't on the same level as this. This is like, transcendent, man. I think it's a good sign that the censorship board let this one get screened. Here's hoping that Malaysian films are finally heading towards a more enlightened ( and less religiously constipated ) age.

Should YOU watch Pontianak Harum Sundal Malam? If you like beautiful women ( Maya Karin ), pontianaks ( flying Maya Karin ), a decent storyline ( which involves Maya Karin ), haunting music ( Maya Karin doing the gamelan and Maya Karin singing ) and would like to see what Malaysia is up to now that America is delivering to us that paedophile fantasy Harry Potter ( Emma Watson... MMMMM ), why not?

Website: Pontianak Harum Sundal Malam

By the way, my colleague informed me that 'sundal' is actually a very not-nice thing to call a lady. So now, whenever a lady driver crosses me wrong on the roads, I yell "Sundal!!!" and wave my clenched fist at them animatedly. If anything, 'sundal' is so much faster to spit out vehemently than "you c***-******* b****!". And so much more Malaysian too.