Double Take (2): 2011 in 270 Words

More or less.

Not wanting to be finicky, 2011 has been a good year. Not great but it ain’t bad either. It’s taught me some valuable lessons and ways to handle... well, face setbacks and take it in my stride. Easier said than done, really.

This year saw the passing of some bad people, but I’m not holding my breath. The vacuum will always be filled and that’s how history always rivets me – there’s never a short supply of evil characters.

Tear-jerking YouTube videos are plenty this year and the most memorable one has got to be Stranger, again. To please some real-man-don’t-cry activists out there, maybe the theme of nice guys finishing last would besuitable.

Even the countdown to midnight puts into perspective the oft-heard expression “for every beginning, there is an end”. Hey wait! Every ending, it seems, is a new beginning. That said, the desire to go back to a certain date in 2011 and relive the moment is unmistakable.

All in all, the year’s been a love-hate ride (weren’t the past years similar?). Hate’s too strong a word. More along the lines of like-dislike.

The lineups for 2012 are: the general election and my school’s 160th anniversary homecoming dinner. Come to think of it, my life’s rather low-key, eh? Heheh!

Speaking of school, I think I should top the last post of 2011 off with a marriage proposal I saw a few days back. Dude’s from my school (no wonder he looks so familiar, must’ve seen him queuing up for the delectable food at the canteen) and I heard he’s made a name for himself right now. Way to go!

Happy New Year, people! Be blessed!
            

Double Take (1): Feeling Hopeful and Empowered by 2011

We'll usher in the new year in less than 9 hours; with fireworks, booze, and loud music no less. New year or not, things remain the same. There's always work to be done and the incessant knocking and drilling a few floors down from where I am bear testament to that fact.

The next person who asks what my new year resolution is will get "1024 x 768" for an answer. I haven't had time to look back and evaluate this very eventful year. Contrary to what some thinks, 2012 is by no means the last year of us living creatures. Someone said to a few weeks back that "the end of the world" isn't like what was portrayed on the silver screen, rather it's the beginning of the end. 

Well my friends, the beginning of the end has already begun way before 2009.

On the here and now, events in 2012 will be a continuation from 2011 where corrupt regimes and system the world over were uprooted and burned to ashes. If those weren't the case, Death had a hand on a few occasions. What I'd like to see in my country is the doing away with the extremists in the Malaysian society as well as those bankrupting the nation. Also, 2012 should (hopefully) mark the demise of a morally-corrupt governance based on [the now trite] cronyism, nepotism, and flagrant violations of the Constitution. 

My role? I have a small space on the ballot paper to make an X. And I plan to do just that.

            

Cheerio and Frosted Flakes to You

[or] frosted cornflakes [in this part of the world] are my favourite but I have to watch the sugar intake. My Christmas wish came in the form of a comment and a text message (thanks Kak Mimi) a few hours ago.

Then more cheers in the newspaper and the zoo (in the newspaper). And then there's the story about how a military organization called NORAD (short for North American Aerospace Defense Command) and its predecessor began tracking Santa.

"Since that time, NORAD men, women, family and friends have selflessly volunteered their time to personally respond to phone calls and emails from children all around the world."

Wow. Christmas to me centres on a figure much bigger (pun unintended) than jolly Santa. No one knows the exact date when Christ was born and Christmas originates from the pagan holidays. But we know that there's a day in the year that this one person – fully man and fully God – was born into the world to ultimately give His life to atone for the sins of man.

Now, that to me is the "reason for the season". If the story of Santa and the reindeers, or the prospect of partying till daybreak appeal to so many year after year, the story of the "babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger" remains a revitalizing one to me.

It's neither imaginary nor delusionary.

Merry Christmas!

That Truly Treasured Time-out

Weeks and months of wearing drudgery, I'd like to think that I'm on the final lap. During my intermission in the past week, I had the time to mope about the mall to see if I can find something suitable to add to the existing wardrobe.

Wearing the same clothes for two or three years, it's time for a change. Not that I mind but it's the skin showing at awkward places that makes for an unsightly glimpse. Despite the "SALE", it costs so much. I went home with images of "DISCOUNT" and "-00.00" swimming in my head. But the thing that lingered on was the music. Put "Santa", "baby", "kiss" in a sentence and ta-daa! Horrendous.

Reindeers, candy canes, bells, and snowflakes abound. So this is Christmas.

On an unrelated note, I finished a movie-length video. My first in so many months. It wasn't A Christmas Carol (unrelated to Christmas remember?). It's WWE Tribute to the Troops! Yes, yes. I watch wrestling. It was our favourite pastime (watching pay-per-views in our richer classmate's home) back in school. Executing those moves seemed silly now but it was great fun then. Lucky we didn't break anything; silica- or calcium-based).

I don't have cheesy Xmassy songs to share but I have Nickelback's When We Stand Together. The theme song for WWE TTTT. Nevermind it was (and still is) make-believe. Kayfabe. Scripted. I treasure this 120 minutes of staying away from my keyboard and having occasional flashbacks to that time when we "layeth the smacketh down".

The live performance by the band, and the video montage and oral tributes to the US troops were moving. President Obama made a taped appearance too.

Enjoy the song, people. It's one of those rare occasions I enjoy "noisy" songs like this one. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

That Much Needed Gaiety: A Sequel to Mile Marker 418

The participants of ICMSM 2011 are already pouring into the island but I don’t really care. They’re either the avaricious academics I so often denounce or Facebook-addicts in lab coats. The latter are a common sight in most labs from 9 to 5 each day; present company excepted.

Included – in the exodus of the educated – are two very special people who worked shared their life together with us more than a year ago (and still do, virtually). Meet Kelvin Swee, the dude who says ‘yes’ to everyone and the same guy who spent an inordinate amount of time cleaving MUNANA using neuraminidase to yield methylumbelliferone. The two groups of people in paragraph 1 should be ashamed. Boy, is he a sight for sore eyes when I walked into the lab during lunch hour. Didn’t know he’d be there today since I’ve agreed to meet with the other fellas.

Immediately, that marketplace feel I missed since their departure came back. Funny how the situation quickly turned out to be like speed dating on epinephrine and it was cacophonous at time. Handshakes. Pats. Lots of laughter. Conversations in English, Hokkien, Mandarin, and Malay. Rarely anyone completes two sentences in one language. I wonder what the Syrian dude, who was with Kelvin, thought of us. I wonder, too, what 'rojak' is in Arabic.

As I’m typing this, some of them decided to get together at Straits Quay. I’m giving that a pass since I’d be meeting Kelvin and Wen Tyng (the second dudette who will be giving an oral presentation) during the congress’ opening tomorrow. Due to the inept handling of my registration and payment (processing took 1 month!), I was told two weeks ago that payment didn’t go through yada yada... And I found out today how much they have to worry about spending for work-related activities: imperceptible. USM 0 — UM 20.

Hopefully, meeting them and attending conference together as presenters would alleviate that feeling of despair. I’m optimistic about this ☺. I should turn in now. Too much jocund repartee, guffawing, and a hot afternoon are giving me a raspy voice.

A sequel to Mile Marker 418. I ought to think harder about the title next time.
        

Shoot!

The euphemism for sh*t.

Spent half the day before realizing that it's December. Already. No rest for my weary mind and my phalanges. And evil people too.

I've been getting the same questions lately; inquiring about what my future is like. Short answer? A Picasso. You know, the one that you stare at for hours and finally something begins to take shape. 

Just before you scream "Elephant!", you saw a giraffe. That same giraffe then turns into something else. What is it that you saw, really?

I think I'm one of those people for whom the destination is the travel itself.

   

Agape with...

I don't know whether to smile or to cry. Maybe I'll do both and produce that "I'm admiring you and feeling really touched at the same time" look. Throw in a pair of glassy eyes and a quivering pout.

Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm really feeling when I was reading about the kids over at MACS (or Facebook) and Post Pals. Brave kids fighting to keep healthy or to make the 'nasty lump gone'.

Yes, I was agape with dread and admiration.

To Jon Paul, Caitlin, Aled, and Emma, I learn to be "POSITIVE and not NEGATIVE". Sending some cards your way and it's the least I'd do for now. 

I'm thankful that my organs and limbs are all accounted for. What is a chipped incisor compared to VACTERL association?

Working with Burkholderia cepacia, I couldn't appreciate the effects cystic fibrosis have on young patients and their families. Medical reviews are sort of... muted. At least I have new insights now.

     

Righteous Among Nations

I'm so tired I can't sleep, and my eyelids they twitch.

So I thought I better do some reading to sort of slowing that overactive mind on overdrive for the past week. One thing led to another and now I got more intrigued; not because it's new but because of the details.

Being lazy to yak away, I decided to rehash that part I read. I realized it's on Wikipedia too.

You want to know about my motivation, don't you? Well. It is the kind of sentiments anyone would have when he actually sees refugees face to face, begging with tears in their eyes. He just cannot help but sympathize with them. Among the refugees were the elderly and women. They were so desperate that they went so far as to kiss my shoes, Yes, I actually witnessed such scenes with my own eyes. Also, I felt at that time, that the Japanese government did not have any uniform opinion in Tokyo. Some Japanese military leaders were just scared because of the pressure from the Nazis; while other officials in the Home Ministry were simply ambivalent.

People in Tokyo were not united. I felt it silly to deal with them. So, I made up my mind not to wait for their reply. I knew that somebody would surely complain about me in the future. But, I myself thought this would be the right thing to do. There is nothing wrong in saving many people's lives... The spirit of humanity, philanthropy... neighborly friendship... with this spirit, I ventured to do what I did, confronting this most difficult situation – and because of this reason, I went ahead with redoubled courage.

Another piece towards the completion of my learning puzzle readying for my trip to Oświęcim and Jerusalem. Not forgetting Washington, DC. All those places in, at least, 5 years time. Early preparations wouldn't hurt though.

               

It's [the Umpteenth] Friday!

And I'm still loving it.

Went out today and stared at people. It's only a matter of time before I get a slap from some folks offended by my keen and attentive gaze. I figured no one would be interested to know about my risky venture so I'll just skip over that.

Long ago, my friend posted something about equations and plots and their connection to friendship (I think). Mr Bonehead here decided to build upon that idea but it soon fizzled out. I can't even locate that particular entry now.

As some sort of vindicatory gesture, I hereby put up this funny picture I found whilst trawling the net. Now I can go back to being lazy until bedtime and work on my graphs tomorrow on SigmaPlot.

Mathematical curves in motion

By the way, I wasn't staring or perving. Honest!
       

Kitchen's Still Smoking

Now, it makes more sense when I learn it in Malay: ...dapur masih berasap. I won't go into the shaggy dog story of why the kitchen smokes and why nobody uses non-stick pans or a gas stove instead of firewood. Moving on, I was plotting graphs all day yesterday (not on Excel mind you, hence the long hours making my way around the program) and I do my blogroll update this morning.

I must admit here, like most living outside the area, the mention of Lynas first reminds me of the government's dealing and secondly, the people directly affected by it. Still, I try to do what I could and being penniless to travel (to KL for the march to the Australian Embassy or to Kuantan for that matter), I keep abreast of the latest development and spread the word around.

Coming back to the post, here's a video titled "Masakan Cinta (Love Dish)". The fight's still on. Yes! Bon appétit!

Last Sunday, the folks over at Kuantan had the "1311 For Our Family - Whack a piñata" event. Visit Antares' WE'RE DETERMINED TO STOP YOU, LYNAS! GREEDY PIGS! for pictures.

Till then

   

The Loop Button

Free-verses are less restrictive and needs little distillation.

The loop function is activated

But really, it can't be turned off at all

It's one of those trips off the beaten track

Into the feeding ground of sandflies

Some say nurtured by the priest-doctor

All alone all along

I stumbled on all day long

Sometimes in doubt and in fear

Not wanting to suffer and trade my life so dear

To the terrifying curse of Kala-azar

The walking stick aids my wearied members

Rough basalt becomes my pillow

Phantom breeze whispers into my ears

Whilst the dew comforts me

Until next ray of sunshine imparts warmth

I awake to a million gnaws

And realize this place ain't Lilliput

These six-legged critters are starving

A bunch of toucans chirp derisively

and one lone toad croaks in agreement

The loop function is activated

But really, it can't be turned off at all

It's one of those trips off the beaten track

Into the proving ground of stealthy hunters

Some say trained by the Wolbachia warriors

  

Digging a Hole

I'm posting from 2 feet under; within a hole I digged for myself. That's to hide from my embarrassment. Once, I posted something about the great people I've come to hold dear during my two years in the lab and I left out one person.

And this one person is someone quite close to me. In fact, if I were forced to rank those jocund folks, this person would be quite high up. Gosh! An honest mistake on my part yet it felt terrible.

To [Wendy] Kang Wen Tyng, one of the most efficient and hardworking – not to mention, resourceful – workers I've met: you deserve that place among them, well-regarded people. You're making good headway toward in your studies now and I even heard you'll be converting your present work to a doctorate. All the best, girl!

Firdaus & Wendy: We all miss that look on your face, the laughter, and some crazy moments in the lab

We're all behind you. Go get 'em!
     

Looking Upwards

Literally, up.

Last night seemed to be a good night. The temperature's just right. Humidity too. Of all the things I do, I decided to turn to my left...

Yesterday morning started without breakfast. Downed a glass of water and headed out the door. yes, I've showered and brushed my teeth if you're wondering. Went to town to look for a set of spark plugs and the spark plug gauge. Got the plugs but not the gauge. On my way back, I got caught in a terrible jam.

All those time running around and simmering in the jam, the sore on the left side of my neck got more noticeable. Fast forward 6 hours, I was nursing a bothersome ache and retired early.

... I went "argh!" and exhaled loudly. The pain was most excruciating. And then, it disappeared; that is, until triggered again. You've guessed it, the sleepiness' long gone and I'm left in the darkness with eyes wide open. It was then that I decided to do some reading online. My previous reading of the Iran-Contra affair and the life of Ernesto Guevara were heavy so this time round, I'd just blog hop.

And post something here.

Some random pics (of skies) from my mobile phone make good embellishments.

One forgotten evening

Another forgotten evening. But I remember the place at which this picture was snapped. An 'ugly' place.

One of my favourites

It's not feeling nice even when I Believe (Blessid Union of Souls) is playing. Wasn't great too when Extreme's More Than Words were playing.

But am I glad that I gazed upwards. Too bad, I have limited neck rotation. Temporarily.

  

Visiting Kingston Town for Some Reggae Goodness

Oh Kingston Town,
The place I long to be
If I had the whole world
I would give it away
Just to see, the girls at play

If I had enough money, I would give it away for a ticket to Glasgow. Oh wait, this song ain't about me or the place I long to be.

  

White November: Recollection and Recounting de novo

Even if it's hot and humid here, Malaysians experience the occasional whiteout caused by a really heavy downpour especially now that the monsoon season is upon us. Elsewhere, it's pumpkin, candles, and snowfall.

September and October have said their goodbyes (good riddance!) and I'm welcoming November. And I can feel the noose tightening around my neck. Anyone realize that time somehow moves faster when we're hoping that they'd just slow down? Maybe it's just me dwelling in the past.

For so many reasons, I wish to be stuck in May and maybe, July. With each passing month, it becoming more and more difficult to complete this arduous journey. One made worse by the vista of decadence (huh?) and the filth emanating from it; all sustained by a stream flowing from that deceitful heartland (what?)

I can't think straight at the moment but my hope for November is... I wonder if there's anything I should look forward to.

The good feelings from six months ago? Is it the carefree days of June? Wait! The felicitous upshots of July? Those were the [more recent] days, and were being the operative word.

All I know is that the alarm has been set to go off at 8 and I have a huge amount of debt to settle – sleep debt accumulated from the past few weeks, that is.

     

The First Snow-- flake

I've never experienced snow in my life, ever. When we're little, sis and I used to sit around mum agape with wonder at her stories. Snowman and Santa in Christmas off the greeting cards and TV adverts.

In November of '93, having saved enough money, we flew to Australia and I remember asking if it'll be snowing. No, it's springtime now. Drat! Still, it was really cold and being kids, we're super excited turning into make-believe dragons spewing "fake smoke" from our mouth and nostrils.

Back in the perpetually sweltering Malaysia, the "ais kacang" was (and still is) a great relief. Being short, I remember staring as the ice shavings fell from the blade and imagining seeing that snowfall.

A big yes to sweet corn, grass jelly (black), red beans, rose (and sarsaparilla)-flavoured syrup, and a drizzle of evaporated milk. No [translucent] attap seeds please.

Reading about the first snowfall and winter in the northern hemisphere seems to transport me back to that time when snow and the igloo utterly fascinates me. Slowly, I'm inching towards that moment when I expel "fake smoke" again.

A scoop of ice cream at the top! That's how I'd like to have my ais kacang. Tried one with mango puree and gula melaka syrup once. The possibilities are endless. Just don't overdo it.

For now, it's temporary satisfaction afforded by that RM4-ish bowl of ais kacang (depending on the toppings). Funny how when people grow up, that childhood desire seems to get shaved away. Perspective changes too mind you. Standing next to the motorized ice shaver now, I'm looking at that spinning block of ice and blotches of rust on the iron frame. 

Ah, grownups see all sorts of things.
   

A Rude Awakening

5:20 AM... Is what I saw when I reached for my phone.

5:22 AM... Is the time I lost that "sleep is the best thing to do in the world right now" feeling and lay in the dark wondering if owls have infrared vision.

There's so many weddings going on and with dates like November 11 and December 12 (next year) looming, it's good business for those planners. One wonders what the number's like in two or five years; that is, number of married couples still hitched.

Why marry

• and call it quits?
• and fight (verbally and physically)?
• and have kids only to dump them at their grandparent's?

I have better things to dwell upon but sometimes these questions get triggered. And no one does a better job than the folks in the unit a few floors down. They fight like bitter enemies most of the time and when they don't, they share their conversations with everyone else. All that at inconvenient hours (as if there's a convenient hour for those things).

Hang in there, kid

And in the middle is this tot who, in my opinion, expresses his feeling by crying. Lately, screaming has been incorporated into the crying and I have to put up with that scryeaming (lame, I know) at different times of the day.

I really pity that guy but it's getting on my nerve especially at times like this. To play the blame game, it's always the caregivers' fault: parents who think only of themselves and grandparents who can't be bothered by a crying child. Now isn't the time (and I'm not in the right frame of mind) to approach the issue of marriage "in the heat of the moment".

With four hours of extra time on a public holiday, I wonder what I'm going to do.

   

End-of-Life: A Commentary to Y2K 11-10

Some are familiar with EOL and some don't. EOL means two things to me: Windows XP in April 2014 and life. Since the former is predictable, no, it's confirmed, all I have to do is make preparations for it; details of which are yet unknown.

Life is more unpredictable. I might not even get the chance to hit the "Publish" button on this post, unlikely but possible. Now, life and some decisions to be made form the theme of Y2K 11-10. Back in '99, in the run up towards midnight of December 31, there's a piece about the Y2K bug at least once a week. Some predicted a total chaos whilst others scrambled to upgrade their system.

I remember waking up the next day hoping to hear the siren, smoke, and gunshot. Sadly, it's just another day in life and the school opens for a new term in a few days' time. No anarchy to save us school-going kids.

Nearly 11 years after that, with a better grasp of what life is, I wrote about the unpredictable nature of life one stanza a day in the month of October. Amid the unrest in New York and the world over, I was deep in thought about what to do next.

One moment, I could picture how nice things would turn out for options A through C and disillusionment in the next. Then the EOL of XP hit me: there are things I never prepare enough for. So yeah, there's an expiration date on each of us and some has a price on their head on top of the expiry date.

And?

Got to keep moving; fueled by aspiration, guided in the right direction by wise counsel, and protected by any moral roughage I can gather. Gung-ho eh? Well, everybody's got to start somewhere.

The last stanza was an afterthought, really. To end it properly with a change in season: summer through to winter, the Bealtane of an earlier writing to the approaching Halloween. And lived with with doggedness of Ernest Shackleton.

I rarely explain what I wrote. In fact, this is the second time that the meaning behind a piece is elucidated. Another time was because the intended reader didn't really get it. Oh well, people who write in meandering ways are boring.

   

Y2K 11-10

The Sturm und Drang of Occupied October
Should cause casual commoners like me to quiver
A nascent ripple waxing by the day
Swinging out in every cardinal point and Rome burns today

Oddly, there prevails a state of uncanny equanimity
Permeating the noetic sphere called the mental faculty
From the placidity burst forth the brilliant flashes
It becomes hard to secern excitement from madness

Day 3 if cogitation and getting nowhere
There’s got to be an answer somewhere, but where?
I’m stuck between that man-wrought cave of utter despair
and that doggone whirlpool of delusion and certain snare

The sum of 2 and 2
Summed up the world rotten through and through
I’m not without aspiration nor expiration
And can only hope to emerge unscathed from adulteration

One bittersweet summer repleted by burnt butterscotch
Dwindled away to the cold, carved pumpkins at the porch
The frost of Shackleton’s time will soon gnaw
at our extremities whilst we await the first snowfall.
  

BBW

I really wonder what went through some of your minds when you read the three-lettered title. Anyway, it's one of those days when I wish I had more money and not stuck here saying to myself, "How nice if..." over and over again.

The Big Bad Wolf Book Sale is happening right now... In the Klang Valley. I would have bought a [bus / train / flight too costly for me even if it's a year ago] ticket but hey, let's hope it'll be held up north in the near future. *hopeful*

Retailing at RM 25. That's 84% off the normal price. I don't think I'm gonna find coffee spills or missing pages in it.

Someone agreed to look up Archaeologica and Disappearing World for me. As much as I'm overjoyed by that, I couldn't help but think that it'll be great to be there in person. That way, the two-title limit will not take effect.

Looking at the "teaser" on the main site, prices are lower compared to the ones aboard Logos Hope weeks ago.

*sits and ponder, ruefully*
  

Funny Day

A day of "nothing much was done as far as work is concerned". I spent a good part of my afternoon at MPH browsing the titles at the "Hobbies – Photography" section as well as the "Fiction" area.

As I made my way to the cashier, I walked past this mother and son pair. The guy, I reckoned to be a school-leaver, was describing something from the magazine on his lap to his mother. I'm not sure if mum understood everything (it seemed rather technical) but boy was she attentive. You know what I'm getting at but I'll leave it at that.

Forgive the odd angle. Wasn't trying to creative but more to being discreet.

The rest of the day was spent on the net reading about Raijin Thunderkeg, Genesis 

(the band); watching videos on YouTube (yes, again!); and catching up on things with Wilber. I'm eagerly anticipating the next stable release (2.8) of GIMP.

Meet my friend, Wilber.

And I chanced upon this entrancing piece of music: Funny Day by Kinder ft. Paps 'n' Skar. I'm not the party guy; never was and never will but I think this would make for a great song. 

Whatever it is, it's been looping in Windows Media Player. Give it a try! Who needs mood-altering drugs when there are songs like Funny Day?.

If anyone's wondering what's so funny about today, it wasn't. The title's from that eponymous dance music. Ha! Now, play that again.

 

More Than Just Breakfast

"Bagel, brioche, or nasi lemak for breakfast tomorrow?"
"I'll have one each day. Then top off breakfast with a glass of carrot juice."

Simple right?

Sometimes, the options are laid before us and we only have to make an informed choice. You see, I'm terrified of the unknown as much as I'm excited about it. It's not that I'm about to end my life, visit the next, decide that I hated it, and the hit the undo button only to know that it's broken.

Still, some decisions are permanent in that we don't get the chance to revisit them ever again. A few are pivotal. Whilst it's true that we live with them, and being the resilient creature, adapt to survive, being certain about the choice we make could save us some sighs and heartbreak.

Am I biding my time for far too long? Can being careful simply be seen as cowardice or are both mutual, inextricable traits? I haven't an answer; not even for myself.
  

Bloody Bullies

When Bullying Backfires: Asperger’s Student Voted Homecoming Princess

Ah, the kind of headline that almost always puts a smile on my face. There are a few definitions of bullying that I know of, but apart from the occasional teasing / name-callings, I wasn’t subjected to a daily torture – physical or otherwise.

We all grow up and become friends. Suddenly, we laughed about our parents’ names. Come to think of it, it was childish to 1) seek pleasure in calling a classmate by his father’s name and 2) react angrily when someone greeted our pops.

One of my favourite PSAs by JP

After growing some pubes and learning to respect the other person, we soon channel that effort into lively discussions with our teachers: tantalum digging, girls, etc. I guess I was lucky that I never encountered a violent bully trying to experiment inelastic collision with my head and the wall.

We've heard of worst cases both at home and abroad. I can never forget Phoebe Prince whenever the subject of bullying comes up.

Maybe I should be thankful that the strict discipline in school. Yes, I’ve been on the receiving end of the rod. Once when all 38 of us got caned for going too far on the decibel scale. Heheh!

But I’m not indifferent to bullying. I was 9, and still learning to make subjects and verbs agree. My cousin’s already in Australia with his parents.

“...great news here in Australia. I might be skipping a grade.” is one of the many things he wrote about in a Christmas card. He also described the weather in Adelaide and how much he’s learned in school. Ain’t that obvious, cousin? Even Singapore’s way ahead.

He didn’t tell me about the treatment he got whilst at school. Mum related the incident to me and somehow, [on hindsight] those bathroom scenes from Hollywood are so real. Anyway, they’ve already returned long ago after Uncle Vic finished his studies.

They all have fond memories of their time down under but I was particularly sore about the bullying and some bigoted twats calling out to them whilst walking home, “Boat people, go home!”

Halfway through the post, I stopped and searched myself against the actions that constitute bullying. Lucky I'm not one. Never was too. *winks*

Now for some in-game retribution. Mortal Kombat... Bloody, no?

     

Wee Hour Screening

When you wish upon a star 

Makes no difference who you are 

Anything your heart desires 

Will come to you

I'm sure many are familiar with that.

Got out of bed, took a wee and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water. At four in the morning, there's nothing going on out there but I peered out the window anyway. Quiet. Dead. I looked up and the heavens' full of life.

Wow! Beautiful, beautiful sky. As cliched as the phrase "star-studded night sky" gets, it's different every time I look up. Ah, that nice feeling (understated) which smothers.

Sorry for being stutteringly fragmented; whatever that meant. I think I'd better go back to sleep. After all, such splendour are sure to greet me again the next time I gaze upwards.

Beautiful scene. Wonderful feelings. Amazing what a bunch of stars and a wisp of cloud set against a dark sky could evoke in me; or people for that matter. Never get enough of it and don't think I ever will.

And yes... Hello October, ye good fellow. Welcome aboard and let's have a jolly good time, ya?
  

My Trusty Tools: The Pilot and the Zebra

I ran to the post office, walked back, and ran up the stairs to the 16th floor. All of that today, and the days to come, for that faithful mass of muscle weighing less than a pound that kept me going for the past two decades. Well, there are other contributors to life and survival than just the heart but let's not argue.

It was fun to expend all that energy to depletion (nearly) but it also meant a lazy afternoon. My pencil case got my attention but ultimately, I was drawn to its contents. There's the scientific calculator which once elicited a "what is this thing with so many buttons on it?" from my mother.

There they are...

The star in that microcosmic world of writing implements has got to be the Pilot G-1 gel ink pen with a rubber grip. I don't remember when exactly I got it but looking at some test papers (yes, I keep my Malay and English essay papers) and exercise books, I've had it with me since 2001. 

Being a leftie, I get some unwanted smears when I write fast. Sometimes, the ink just got through to the other side of the page. I love it on cards and for writing one-liners. I no longer use it for work now. With 1 cm-ish of ink left, I'll let it go into semi-retirement. 

Next comes the Zebra mechanical pencil (I was looking it up and found it on eBay). I love this one a lot. Partly because it's a gift from a significant person. I go to an all-boys school and I'm straight so yeah... 

Unlike my [oft-misplaced] rulers, I make sure this one stays in the pencil case when not in use. Great companion during the hours arranging a poetical piece. 

It really is funny. The heart I mean. One word with two meanings. One with a routine task of pumping blood; incapable of feelings and affected only by electrical impulses. The other is intangible but is most perceptible by everyone: it's capable of reacting to stimuli such as love, hatred, or excitement. It appears to be able to advise, cherish, and affects moods. 

Wait! Do we love with our heart or with our mind then?

 

Bittersweet Scottish Summer

I stared at the empty page

Not knowing whether to bitch or make an adage

Maybe I could try to wet that six by eight with ade

Concocted and brimmed in my dreamy head

During the Bealltainn companioned by the Great Highland bagpipe

I heard myself humming to delightful melodies

Yesterday I awoke to a dampened hype

In fellowship with silence I groaned in my maladies

Images of a kvetching child now dance before me

Echoes of her voice are haunting but no less than endearing

It’s but a short time before she melds into the scenery

That of a luxuriant Kelvingrove Park, reddening

The bench is empty, save for the weathered grains
A faithful third in every conversation

Whether they be blessings or banes

The gust has carried them to certain oblivion

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder

But it felt like the top of Ben Lui, only colder

Behind the tear-sealed palpebras picturing Loch Lomond

I revisit the sweet memories of summer gone

 

Autocracy, Bureaucracy, and I'm busy

As usual, faced with an enormous list of things to do, I'm complaining about the lack of time in a day. There's only so much (and a little more) a person can do before 10 x 5 = ? takes more effort than usual to compute.

This is where my favourite part of toiling comes in: the reward. My "have a break, have a Kit Kat" time. Instead of chocolates, I go on a blog hop or streaming videos on YouTube. Recently, everyone was sharing the Undilah (Vote-lah) PSA on facebook and I must say, the messages are spot on.

1. exercise our right to vote (meaning you register if you'd never voted before

2. the people's the boss (and like most evil bosses, they have the "Eject" and "Promote" buttons to push)

Still, when I learned that the PSA was taken off the air (not that it really matters since there are plenty of resources on the Net), I felt that someone on top was annoyed by the contents and the 'extras' making a cameo appearance.

I don't know, I might be wrong. Of course, they have their reasons for doing so. They always have some forms of a canned speech, don't they?

Back in school, I remember learning about the structure of the government and the principle of separation of powers. We discussed many things and one of it was the deadening subject of bureaucracy.

I wish I could meet up with Mr Anthony now and ask why didn't we learn that the government is autocratic? Well, to put it nicely, quasi-autocratic. I suppose this is tacit knowledge to most people? Again, I might be wrong because nowhere in the [mainstream] papers or news states that. We're a democratic country because... *trails off*

Oh well, I'll settle for a Jubilee Project PSA for now.

Teachers, I have so much love and admiration for them...Well, not quite everyone...
 

The Story of A Dry Bread

I meant to say rye bread.

But my French rye bread was a little on the dry side. It's always nice to learn the history and/or the story behind that certain recipe and how it came to be. The same couldn't be said about those posh-looking bakeries many of us walked into, at least once, in shopping malls.

The bread is alive!

Besides, the only story we'd tell others about that particular establishment is the costly loaves. In time, patronizing these places will be nothing more than history for some; with a less-than-sweet memory of burning a hole the pocket for something less than a sourdough – effort-wise.

Still looking for a stromboli here.

On Pane di Prato:

This typical Tuscan bread, also known as Pane Toscano, is made without salt. The absence of salt has a historical explanation. During the Middle Ages, Tuscany’s neighboring provinces controlled the Italian salt market, levying a heavy salt tax. Unwilling to submit to their rivals,  the Tuscans created breads made without salt. Such breads have a yeasty flavor, but quickly become stale. Tuscan cooks have developed a tradition of dishes using stale bread

-EricTreuille and Ursula Ferrigno, Bread

There's more to a loaf of bread than flour, water, salt, and leaven. We're so used to eating those plastic-packed loaves of soft bread that will only keep for 3 days or so. Anything that tastes different from these "standards" are not bread at all. Artisan bread are usually too dry, denser, and chewy. Bad.

Pain de seigle. French rye bread. (Source: La Panière)

Oh well, I grew up eating those "standard" slices everyday. Just thought I could bake my own. Never mind me, I'm on a restricted diet; for financial reasons that is.

To bake or to buy, to each his own! ^.^

Yoshi! Ikuzo!

Yes, I'm still sane but for how long? I can't tell. I've been motivating myself all day today and for the past weeks; prompting myself to go a step further. 

"Just one more line before you can stop for dinner. Never mind the aroma of baked squid stuffed with minced chicken, fish, shrimps, and crab meat (?)"

Operating from where I am right now, I couldn't have asked for a more strategic location in the house. Five steps to the east is my room. The place I would go to plop myself on the bed and heave loudly every few hours or so.

Five steps (yes, I counted) northwestward lies the kitchen when I need the heaven-sent liquid called water. It tastes sweet when I'm thirsty. Seriously.

The window to the north provides me a view of the outside world and sunsets are always beautiful. I said sunset because I let down the curtain to shield off the glare of daylight. No, I don't glitter nor burn.

Back to the coffee table where I work, it's in the path of the afternoon breeze blowing into my room and exits the window to my left.

A twitch to reposition myself. A scratch on the back to eliminate the itch. Turning my head in circles and shrugging to loosen up. That's about all the "physical activities" involved in a day. Gosh! And at 60 kg, I'm not exactly worried about my size but my heart.

A few hundred pixels away lies the bookmark button to Blogger and Windows Media Player. This is what's keeping me from mental lethargy although I get occasional blocks halfway at the 5100th word.

No English or Mandarin songs for me (even though I don't understand 80% of Mandarin) so I don't have auto-understand the lyrics. I'm switching to Japanese! Woot! I don't understand 8 out of 10 words I hear and I don't wish to either. For good reasons too: I can fully concentrate on making a 5-line sentence broken up in pieces by a mixture of commas, semicolons and dashes; all the time peppering it with words / jargons / phrases worthy of publication in an academic journal.

If I have to choose, I'll still go for blogging. They say all goods things are meant to be shared, so I'm embedding the MV to the song I've been listening to for the hundredth time now.

Sakura ~Anata ni Deaete Yokatta~ (さくら ～あなたに出会えてよかった～; Cherry Blossom ~I'm Glad to Meet You~)
 

The spacebar is not responding well and occasionally, wordsarenotproperlyseparated. Sometimes they do.

Hey, friend!

This a story about Abby. Yes, you can think of Abby as the Abby Sciuto from NCIS but she’s unlike Ms Sciuto in case the mention of her name conjures an image of a gothic girl totally addicted to Caf-Pow. Energetic yes, but relatively subdued.

It’s one of those high school boy-meets-girl-and-they-became-best-pals stories one hears ever so often.

The meeting in 2002 wasn’t your normal meet, greet, and shake the hand sort of encounter. Studying in a boy’s school (Go SXI!), the only girls we could meet are those in Form 6 (Pre-U) and I’m positive they don’t even have the time for immature nestlings like us. And we’re too preoccupied with street soccer to ogle at them; well, most of the time we’re busy if you know what I mean.

I got Abby’s number off a greeting card sent from her society (well, it’s those quasi-diplomatic well-wishing) but too bad she wasn’t in at that time. I left my number, who I am, the reason for the call, and a message before hanging up.

Before long, she returned the call and that marked the start of a lovely journey. The calls and texts went back forth more times than that between Kennedy and Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis. We talked about school, friends, studies, guys, girls, and empty chats in between.

Believe or not, we haven’t met even once. If there ever was a chance, and one that I didn’t grab, to meet her it would have to be the day she left for the UK for her A-Levels soon after our national examination, the MCE.

Left or right, here we are right now. (Photo credit: Thomas Pate)

Eight hours (7 in the summer) of time difference, there was only a small window for a chat and I wasn’t connected to the net all the time like I do now. A freshman in varsity, I once caught up with her on MSN Messenger at 10 A.M. local time and managed a 30-minute on-and-off chat. She’s a sophomore in University of Bristol now. Life as a student is great but hectic. Working at 2 A.M., I’m sure it is.

There was a long silence thereafter with an email or two in between. I received a call from her one night, a year later, when she was back here during her term break. Well, that’s how things were.

At a point in time, we’re on the same path and headed in the same direction. Then there comes the moment when a choice is required of us; ah, that fork that leads to many places of untold fortune. We make choices life and some of us simply actualize that choice which was made on our behalf long ago. Either way, we chart our own course and in the process grow apart from the people we’re once so close to. And I embrace that without a protest, just a tinge of sadness.

Was there something that I did wrong?

It’s been so long, eh? Here’s wishing you nothin bt blessings @another milestone in life. Happy birthday!...|

She turns 26 today.

24 + 6 = A Possible Windup

We've heard from the sages of old that there's no such thing as "not having enough time" and there's only "a bad time planner". I'm not so sure if 40 years from now I'd be saying that. 

Maybe not. Maybe I'll go, "Since 2000, time planners are an extinct group. With so much to do, their absence and presence are likened to that proverbial drop in the ocean.

"You see, unlike the 1970s, technology has grown by leaps and bounds and more output is required of us. Consequently, as one demand is satisfied..."

Really? Am I just finding excuses? I can't seem to finish anything and even if I did complete a part of it, I was rejoicing inside and immediately took a day worth of break. That's how tough certain things are.

I sleep 7, sometimes 6, at times 5 hours and I (my eyes) absorb blue light for the rest of my waking hours. Still, nothing's crossed out from my to-do list. of things to be done that seem go on and on.

Relaxation comes in the form of grilling that centre-cut fish fillet seasoned with nothing more than just salt and pepper for instance. If I decide to take more time off, then I'd be kneading dough (Newsflash: there's a no-knead bread recipe available online. See? Even bakers need more time to, say, prep a sourdough starter. Or to walk the dog and do the laundry).

It was 8 years (and still counting) ago that I last made pizza. Nowadays, my low-cal floury affair is Indian through and through. Who? Meet Miss Atta, people. That's right, chapati from atta flour. Goes well with that leftover rendang or a mashed up can of mackerel in tomato sauce.

Chapati anyone? Kneading it is rather therapeutic. All that pent-up energy and frustration...

Really, I wish there's an additional six hours or so in a day. Then I'd have nearly 2 days extra per week. Oh well, I've got to suck it up and push on. I'm glad I still come here to freshen up.

I Still Remember

This time around I thought I should speak for myself. If 2 years ago I wrote about "us" remembering, I'm not sure if "we" was well-defined.

Ten years ago on this day (it's already night time here, a little past 10 pm), my friend mentioned something about a plane, a building, and an explosion he heard from another person.

"It must be some urban warfare but where? Fighting in the Kosovo War ended some time back," I thought to myself. I now know it ended in 1999.

It all became clear over the next few days and ten years on, who doesn't recognize images of smoke billowing from the World Trade Center or the clip where the plane slammed into the building?

September 11, 2001 meant different things to different people.

For me, it sort of renewed my interest in conflicts around the world and studying why people did it. What was going on in their head when they planned to make headlines and taking lives – sometimes their own – in the process? From Jonestown to Oklahoma City; Waco, Texas; Madrid; London; Mumbai; or Beslan, Russia, we've often asked why they did it. What drives them? I guess we'd never get a satisfying answer.

I have a folder in my computer full of pictures, tribute videos, recorded phone calls, and saved copies of websites detailing the chronology of events both in and outside New York City. I remember getting all teary watching one clip in the middle of the night and reading about Flight 93*. It goes without saying that I watched (and I know I have to) United 93 when it was released in 2006.

Life goes on, as it always does, and this day like many other dates, is a reminder of the evil that human beings are capable of. It is also one that highlights the tenacity of the human spirit in the face of a horrifying adversary.

Try as I may, I will never be able to comprehend, fully, the grief felt by those who have lost their loved ones on that fateful day. But Americans remember. The world remembers. I remember.

*I'm glad to know that this page is still available online.
____________________
I'm not going to try and justify the events that took place following 9-11 but I know that the whole world felt it. War isn't a beautiful thing and it affects everyone. It is depressing to know we have to tighten our belts to save for fuel.

Hello, Love!

A year or two ago when I was still receiving my monthly stipend from MOSTI’s scholarship – or the student loan in ’05 for that matter – I’d save some and after deducting for food (sometimes good food to reward myself) and lodging, I’d spent the rest on my beloved.

It was well worth it even when I know my actions raised some eyebrows. They say a nothing gets through to a love-stricken person. Fast forward to yesterday, it felt it's a little painful to part with RM 80 even though that place offered a cheaper alternative for a have-not like me.

Enter Logos Hope. The ship called port weeks ago and it's about time I pay her a visit.

I got myself The Secret Life of Germs: Observations and Lessons from a Microbe Hunter by Phillip Tierno. Seeing what I’m working with now, it’s only natural that the title caught my eye as I scanned the titles left to right, top to bottom. 

Into the cart went One Extraordinary Day by Harold Myra; Breach of Trust, DiAnn Mills; Holman QuickSource Guide to Understanding Creation, Mark Whorton & Hill Roberts; and Son of Hamas: A Gripping Account of Terror, Betrayal, Political Intrigue, and Unthinkable Choices, Mosab Hassan Yousef with Ron Brackin – the latter being the type of book that will make my week. 

Got this at a third of the price

The books aren’t too old but they’re not the latest either. I don’t see Tom Clancy or Andy McNab but I was not disappointed. The pricing of the books is enough to put a smile on my face. You see, Tom Clancy’s Executive Orders costs RM 33.95 when I bought it 10 years after it was first published. Not exactly the latest right? 

I can only smile

If there was a time when my “voyage” passed through choppy seas, it’s got to be the part after I’ve paid for my purchase. I came to the next section full of thick, we-mean-serious-business kind of books. Any 3 for RM 40. Gosh! One of those reference books costs at least RM 60 (with a student discount) back in the varsity’s bookshop. There’s finance, business, calculus, criminal justice, and anthropology. If only archaeology and say, psychology or some Science-related books were there, it’d have completed the quota. 

Then again, would I have enough money in my wallet to pay for them?

At Borders some time back: Held this book for a good 15 minutes looking perusing the skeletons and its details. Too bad its wrapped

For now, I’m contented with the ones I have with me right now. This time, there won’t be a deadline to return the books and I could have all the time I need to finish them. Gone was the time when I could finish Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code in less than 24 hours.
 

At Port Swettenham

Hey my love, we will be spending more time together now. A book in hand, a bookmark between my fingers, and my back propped against the headboard waiting for you to snuggle up next to me. I love you Miss Read Ing*. 

*Yes, Ing is a surname.

It was great, people!

Good food and great company. 

And I stand by my statement. We had a blast last night and we've proven, time and again, that gatherings can be smashing without booze.

Anyway, I've never laughed so hard for a long time now and Kak Mimi's nieces and nephews are adorable. They reminded me of the time during such festive season where we run around the house without a care in the world. They kept coming back for fire to light their lanterns. I guess they have their interpretation of "carrying lanterns". One of those lanterns was annihilated, much to their joy as they shrilled in delight.

I'm glad we came up with the idea of bringing the Mooncake Festival to Raya open house. By the time we're barbequing the chickens (with an incredible consisting of lemongrass, somehthing, and something - sorry for my sense of taste, or the lack thereof).

Remember my digital dinosaur? I realized, after a few blurry pictures, that the auto-focusing is off at the shortest (widest angle) focal length but I'm quite happy with the outcome. Ah, I should have borrowed the DSLR...

It's sad that two of our "gang" members weren't able to join us but we did a little conference over the phone's loudspeaker and "chided" them for their absence. Of course, a commonplace for all gatherings, there were updates about the present and the future. Some good, some not so good, some bright and others dim. Still, it's great to know how they're doing now!

Thank you, people, for a great time and thanks to Kak Mimi for inviting us. Next stop: Indian cuisine for Deepavali next month.