Xanthophobia and a "Dirty" Hashtag

Whilst the mainstream media is silent over (except to bemire) the BERSIH 2.0 rally, the World Wide Web is abuzz with news and updates on the rally planned for July 9. I no longer have a Facebook account but it seems that the rally’s gained a lot of support; more so after the police began arresting people linked to it.

On Twitter (at least on my update page), the hashtag #bersih appear every 10 minutes or so and looking up the tag updates on Google gave me a hearty laugh. Apparently, everyone has become more aware of what BERSIH is. Even if they don’t, they love poking fun at the way the police handles the situation. That’s because the rally’s T-shirt and anything yellow is considered illegal because they “promote” the rally and “incite” the people to join in.

Here are some that I managed to copy (I didn't go through every post to check for errors) but I must admit that #Egypt gets new post every few seconds:

Yellow Post-It notes will be confiscated on sight. Other colours may be allowed

Bumblebee told 2 lose his colours or "action will be taken within confines of the law."

Publishers & Print designers forced to work with C M K, as Y (Yellow) has been banned.

Lagu hit Coldplay "Yellow" diisytihar haram kerana mempunyai element subversif

[Coldplay’s hit song, Yellow, contained subversive elements and has been declared illegal]

Steve Jobs admitted that #Bersih is the main reason why Apple did not push for a yellow iPhone!

Digi (telco service provider) phone coverage will go down for a day or two because (sic) yellow man (Digi’s mascot) will get arrested for sedition

Saw a group of policemen at the fruits section. Apparently the lemons are under arrest for being yellow

Even the yellow lines on the side of the road in front of my office has (sic) been changed to the colour white

Mother bought unripened bananas yesterday. We’re so worried when they turned yellow this morning

Everyone from Rumah Kuning (literally Yellow House, a grouping based on colour) cannot go for Pendidikan Jasmani (Physical Education)

Ah bengs who like to dye their hair yellow are going be in trouble

Sometimes, our absurdity knows no bound. I suppose everyone else in the world is having a good time reading about it in the papers. At least many now knows what Article 10 of the Federal Constitution is all about. If you'd prefer something else, might I suggest to you the Universal Declaration of Human Rights?

“IS BERSIH A DIRTY WORD?”

More Pakatan lawmakers nabbed for Bersih links

Experts: Bersih T-shirts NOT illegal

 

This is Me: Take 4

Having typed so much about what some might call ‘strengths’, I’m not above reproach. Not at all. There are things that I’m not particularly proud of. If we’d just flip the coin over, then we’d see that my sensitivity at times borders on anaphylaxis i.e. hypersensitivity.

Point to note: I’m not led by my over-sensitive nature when I’m talking about the rich.

People tell me that I think too much. And that I’m reading too much into another person’s words or actions. There’s some truth in that since what I think might not be accurate, if not false altogether. At times, I mistook a joke for a criticism. Like when I said I’m fond of little girls and that I hope my first child to be a girl or that a small girl is adorable, I get that yikes-you’re-a-pedophile look. It’s depressing but perhaps, like I said, I misunderstood banter for an attack.

The creative portion of my brain may be a weakness too. That, together with oversensitivity, contributes a considerable amount of daydreaming. As an example, imagine the despair of a dreamer thinking he’s in love and that the feeling is mutual only to have reality shatter the reverie. Whilst I can understand puppy love and crushes, I’m not alluding to those.

Remember I said my peers are sometimes a bane too? I only have myself to blame. At times, I do make comparisons. Never mind if people say we compare to better ourselves. I don’t really buy that since there’ll always be people better. It’ll work until we run out of steam and when that happens, we’d feel inadequate. I know I would. I guess I have to constantly remind myself when it’s time to stop comparing.

I’m not the lazy type but I think laid-back would be apt here. I do get work done but sometimes it’s the last minute rush though the quality would be on par with my other tasks. So, not so much of a self-castigation here. Still, I find myself to procrastinate a lot.

The most obvious readily seen trait will have be my impatience. Mostly, it's got to do with people and my dealings with them. I dislike repeating myself and somehow I get really frustrated to the point of blowing my top. Once or twice and it's fine. I'd try and distill my message so it gets as simple as it possibly could. Alas, not everybody understands or else, I wouldn't have included this paragraph. Maybe, if I could be a wee bit more accommodating? I don't know. If I don't get the results I've come to expect, after waiting for some time of course, then I'd pack up and leave.

Both sides of the same coins and both giving the same value that it’s worth. That is if value can be measured simply by reading what I’ve written about my strengths and weaknesses. But it ain’t that simple right? It’s only after months if not years of knowing someone that we can truly appraise them for what they are.

All in all, I’m Julian. This is me.

 

This is Me: Take 3

Somehow, I have asked myself one theoretical question: Will I commit myself to a romantic relationship with a rich girl? Ok, I skipped the part about falling in love but I think falling in love isn’t that big a deal considering what comes after that is the crux of the matter. So, will I?

The easiest answer I’d come up with is that it depends. I mean how many would and could leave their featherbedded life? Often, they’d say they don’t mind as long as... See? There’s always a condition or two. And I’m totally fine with that. As long as the guy has a good, stable job and that he loves her. Love always comes last. What constitutes good and stable? A full-time operator at a, say, car assembly plant? I think they miss out one very crucial line: a job that is able let us live a comfortable life. Which begs the question, what will make life together comfortable? Good food? Expensive apparels?

It appears that it’s not easy to find someone with simple expectations, especially when they’re fortunate enough to be born on a silver platter. To have to slog so hard and to make something work purely to finance her lifestyle would not be worth it. Many well-off gentlemen could have done effortlessly. If it’s a romantic relationship, I’d opt for someone simple; if I may, a peasant girl with a simple outlook on life than a dame with outlandish desires.

Remember the post JRL: Stereotyping A Rich Kid?

 

This is Me: Take 2

That brings me to modesty, generosity, and aversion to rich people. Hold your horses. I didn’t say I dislike all the affluent people out there. If it were so, I’d be a sour grape. When I say modest, I’m not restricting myself to one meal a day. I’m modest, not a miser. I’m unwilling to spend a few hundred bucks to get a brace put on my tooth just so my incisor gets pushed a few millimeters inwards. If you don’t already know, I fell and chipped both my [central] maxillary incisors. Somehow, over the years one decided to grow outwards. I do go out for some nice food sometimes and some of the amount goes to some old man at the market.

I remember once when two kind souls offered to support me financially.

“How am I going to repay the both of you?”

“You don’t. When the time comes, do it for another person”, was the reply. I declined the offer. But I truly appreciate the thought.

It’s the same person who lent me a Biology reference book. Something that proved very useful given the fact that I don’t go for extra classes like my friends, or own a few reference books like some snob in school. I tell myself to show such level of compassion, and more, to others in need.

My aversion to rich people? How is it justified? It’s just my simple observation that those in the position to do/change things aren’t doing a dang thing. It’s always the middle-class people who gave the most (if you consider the percentage). And it’s always the same group of people you see in the papers. Well, you do see the rich people too; in a totally different settings. Handing out mock cheque dressed in their best; always inside some glitzy ballroom complete with cocktails, finger foods, and the press. I don’t care very much about all this I’m-richer-than-you affair but it pisses me to see these people flex their wealthy muscle and make the inferior ones do their bidding.

Once whilst on my way back from backpacking to Vietnam, I see this bunch of family kicking up a ruckus at the check-in counter. Well dressed, watches, branded luggage, and the unmistakable swagger. They were raising their voice at the Vietnamese officers in green for reasons only they knew. My guess? Seeing the amount of stuff they had then, I think they were unhappy at being stopped. The matriarch of the family was making her point, and she did it well, in a loud voice and flailing her arms about. And then turn to her husband uttering in Cantonese. Such insolence! I mean, it doesn’t kill you to be polite. And rules are rules, ma’am. The guys in green maintained their composure and tried explaining, only to get Dragon Lady into another tirade. During my time there, the people of Vietnam are to me a humble lot. Quiet. Hardworking. Polite. From the staffs in the bank to the mother and child in Ben Thanh Market. Need I say more?

There are always complaints from these people. Not that they should keep quiet all the time. I myself couldn’t stand bureaucracy too. But some things can’t be helped. Just live with it. And be understanding. You don’t start cussing if your chicken isn’t served in 3 minutes after you’ve placed your orders. When it’s served in the fourth minute, at your demand, you start cussing because it’s pink.

On my many blog hopping trips, I’ve come across both likeable and slap-able people; each on different ends of the divide. On one hand you have some thankful people and on the other you have some people who love partying and complain when things don’t go their way. All are fortunate enough to further their studies abroad.

I’d go on and on but I suppose you understand now, how touchy I can get with this group of people.

 

This is Me: Take 1

Today, I set up my stall at the intersection of Reminisce Road and Appraise Avenue. For some unknown reasons, I walked past my usual haunt right in the middle of Reminisce.

All this time, I regaled my friends with stories of school, of childhood, and a little on what growing up was like at home. Whilst experience shapes a person, I couldn’t attribute everything about me directly to it. So, what am I like, really – with or without experience in the equation?

Peaches playing in the background.

Let’s start with music. Something I appreciate (composition and talents) yet deaf when it comes to making music. I guess I’m more inclined to studying the words and meaning of a song together with the mood set by the melodies. Preference-wise, I’m nearly an all-inclusive but it very much depends on my ears. If I say I’m into slower, relaxing ones, I have many power ballads scattered among my playlists. Heck, I even enjoy Green Day!

I remembered being called “old” for my choice of music and the radio station I tune in to every time I drive. So I suppose you get what I meant. This leads nicely to my first persona. Note: I didn’t just grab these adjectives out of the hat. It’s what I’ve been told and affirmed time and again. I’m quite the sensitive type. Sentimental too. I don’t call every person I meet as friends (they are in a non-hostile manner), and my circle of friends are important to me. They’re people I cherish, care deeply for, and the same whom I’d go two miles with, and back. I’d think for them and take into consideration their feelings before springing to action. Farfetched you say?

Math isn’t my favourite subject in school. And I take great joy in writing, both for English and Malay subject. It's an avenue where I'd be able to put down my thoughts, on a piece of paper I may add, but usually in an indirect manner. I'd use a different settings and situations to represent the subject matter. Other times, I'd just put them in a poem. And one thing I've found out about conveying my thoughts this way is that I don't have to see the reader's expressions. I wonder to myself, what causes this cowardice?

Naturally (?), writing also means that I’d bury myself in books to explore the different styles people employ in their work; which was exactly what I did. To digress a little, the flair for writing comes with the willingness to write and some hard work thrown into it too. Over time, I realized I enjoyed history very much; particularly war histories. I’ve always known that history favours the victors and I’ve made it my aim to always turn the coin both sides. As an undergraduate when my peers registered for Management courses, something realistic I may add, I find myself drawn to Archaeology and spent so much time for a semester writing about life in the Angkorian era of Cambodia. It’s a wonder why I studied Entomology (to fill up credit hour requirements) instead of something that’d complement my major, Microbiology. Peculiar?

Speaking of peers, they’re a source of encouragement and other times the bane of my youth. *laughs* Growing up, we’re an impressionable bunch, no? I remember the time when I was brooding over the fact that I couldn’t own a football (or soccer, whichever you prefer) boot (or again, cleat, if you prefer) to play with the bunch of kids in school. So, I settled for street soccer and in the process wearing out my school shoes quicker than my parents would say “Ronaldo”. That’s one of many things that I couldn’t have dreamt of given the circumstances. Not that we’re living below the poverty line but let’s just say that my parents aren’t like the blue guy who lives in a lamp.

 

This is Me

It all started with the aim of creating a simple post tackling the oft-asked question in interviews: tell me about yourself. I thought I’d write a little about myself. By the time I’ve finished writing my strengths and weaknesses, I’ve nearly reached the 2000-word mark.

So what I’d do is to try breaking them up into big chunks — but still small enough to be taken in comfortably — yet remain meaningful and cohesive.

I’ll set Blogger to post them automatically at a 12 hour interval.

You might find me rambling on and on like a madman but do bear with me. Enjoy!

I’m Julian. This is me.

 

Mile Marker 418: Open Houses

I’ve officially finished my work at the lab and achieved all the project milestones. Until the day I obtained the scroll, I can never be totally free. I still have to go back almost daily to do some [culture] maintenance, cleaning up, and a small but tedious errand – cloning a gene into an expression vector and possible induction of the vector to overproduce a protein which will then lead me to the verification of the protein via SDS-PAGE. ‘Small’ and ‘tedious’ appear to be a gross understatement. It’s a goodwill gesture to my supervisor and something that I’ll give my best to do it.

One a much happier note, I’m looking forward to visiting Firdaus’ family orchard next Tuesday. Fruits! It’d be great if we’d repeat last year’s trip when Kak Mimi and the Kuala Lumpur branch (the Penang 418 being the HQ) members were there.

So, as this topic nears its last stop, I’m posting pictures of the open houses by Kak Mimi, Kitha and Firdaus. Over the years, we’ve stuffed ourselves under the roofs of these gracious host, cut birthday cakes, and fool around in true kampung spirit. But most importantly, we visit one another to celebrate our differences – the Eid, Deepavali and Chinese New Year (I’m not sure who has the pictures of CNY open house). Who’d forget rendang? Or briyani and chapati? Or mandarin oranges, satay, and noodle (sorry, pork wasn’t on the menu as it’s not halal)? And oh, the day out in Taiping Zoo after Kitha's Deepavali open house.

As we hear (again) of racist remarks by some of the most intolerant of people in the country, I take comfort in that the spirit of muhibbah is very much alive as far as we are concerned. Still, I don’t deny that the relationship among the different races took some beating; no thanks to a few bigots frothing at their mouths spewing venom. Wonder why we’re Malay, Chinese, Indians and Others here but Malaysians in the rest of the world.

Someone posted this on Facebook with the same caption. I'll leave it in its original language as I find it funnier that way. No, we weren't fighting.

Julian: pisang tu kat rumah saya.Curi-curi ambik pi goreng, ingat I tak nampak???
Mimi: Itu pisang kami yg beli la..
Kitha: Eh...jadi tak jadi makan lah??

Benevolent Sexism

That, to some, also means chivalry.

God forbid that we should mistake acts of kindness and empathy for oppression.
When I’m out shopping with my partner, he always carries the heavy bags. He’s stronger than I am. He does it without thinking, and I always acknowledge his help. It’s what people do in relationships.

Mary Schneider's article Is Chivalry Sexist? reminds me of the time in high school, specifically during English lessons, where we'd start a discussion on various issues grouped under what I call the [all-too-common] battle of the sexes.

My little acts of chivalry wasn't directed at my other girl classmates. I mean, there's nothing that needs a second pair of manly hands... Ok, boyish hands. It was the teacher's laptop. Man, laptops produced post-Y2K (not that there weren't any laptops before 2000) were heavy. Anvil-heavy. Or books. Holding the door. You know, those things? I think I made a good impression on Mrs Gan and also the lovely Mrs Doreen.

Now, I'm not the teacher's pet and no, I don't think we have such a thing in school. The teachers and students here share a very special bond. We respect our teachers and they never condescend to us. We spoke at length, we joked and we laughed. And I've learned so much from Mr Ian Howell; from the Russian Tsar to Latin and French. That man is a walking encyclopaedia.

Speaking of school, I think all those titles and special status heaped upon many other schools in the country comes to nought seeing what goes on, on the inside, day in and day out. Alright, I'm being a little biased here but... it's true! LOL!

What about now? I think I'm more aware of who's around me, thanks to Form Six where we have girls joining us (we're from an all-boy school up until Form 5). There are times when the tongue needs a bridle. Or to keep a comfortable distance, physically. No more slaps on the back or a friendly jab at the ribs. Those little things that show respect and quell any uneasiness in the fairer sex.

Guess I'm saying that I'm not the little boisterous bast--- brat anymore. A fine, young man I reckon. *stroking my beardless chin* Aha! I'm such a swellhead!

 

Life in 23.976 FPS

Faster or slower depending on your gadget. But we're not discussing frame rates here. I can't think of a better title so I figured 23.976 frames per second (on NTSC) would do. Jubilee Project and Wong Fu Productions both make good videos and that actually reminded me of my days before Youtube became so popular. Way back when I'd download files at 3KB/s on a dial-up. It's only the television then.

Mention the name Yasmin Ahmad and I can guarantee you that the first response would be something like, "Oh, the late Yasmin Ahmad. I will miss her great TV commercials!" Yes, her TVCs are that good. I remember the few times when the ads were too much for me.

To put it simply and understate the messages contained inside, they speak out against racism and they show the relationship between people; devoid of rhetorics and superfluous embellishments, both of which are hallmarks of a politician's speech.

I have a folder full of her videos and I'm randomly picking one from Youtube to put it here (search with words like "Petronas", "Yasmin Ahmad"). One thing's for sure, major celebrations like National Day, Hari Raya, Chinese New Year and Deepavali will remind us all of the time when we shed a tear each time the commercials air. And we looked forward for more.

Who'd forget the National Day ad about the three friends who were stung by wasp and accompanied one of them for his circumcision? Or my favourite about how a couple gets all impatient with the invalid man only to learn that their actions are being impressed upon their kids. And oh, she makes good films too. I love Muallaf.

Alright, time to get some shut-eye.

On A Hot Sunday Evening

...I'm thinking, FREEDOM.

 

The Rock That Is...

Did this for a friend some time back. Now when I'm down and out, strangely I felt it's now directed at me. As usual, click to enlarge.

I'm sure many can relate to this: that when things go wrong we start to go into fight-flight mode and refuse to look beyond the quandary we're in. It's just natural to do that; to ask ourselves if there are other solutions. And to come up with one if we haven't already done that.

Then it hit us. Let it be. Let God. Trust him to provide. Scoffers are going to say, "What? Sit and wait?"

I certainly don't mean that. What I'm saying is that whilst we're a fusspot, we have to really bring it all to God and trust Him to do what's best for us. What's more important, to let things fall into place according to His will.

Argh! Let's give it a try shall we? And who knows, in time, we'd be able to proclaim like the psalmist

I will love You, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

Psalm 18.1-2

Edit: Someone led me to this. And of course, there are a few others too. What I did was just embed one here. Grace by Laura Story. Enjoy, people!

 

Jaded J

The end is in sight. I'm not in some dark tunnel looking straight at the light thinking if it's the way out or the clichéd speeding train heading my way. I can see the finish line. But my leg's wobbly and the firm path has turned miry. Will I find rest?

I've been giving so much and I have absolutely no complaints about it. But acknowledgment of some sort would be rather encouraging so I'd know that none of what was sowed went to the dogs. Even those adorable canines appreciate a morsel of food. I don't think I'll stop being myself but I've been thinking... Will I ever stop caring?

Trust. A five-letter word with five different meanings to five different people of five different ethnicity. To me, it meant nothing more than my willingness to put my confidence, though fallible, in another person and to believe, wish and expect something to come out of them. Man, I have no idea what I'm rambling here. Forgive me.

I'm not exactly feeling like I'm on top of the world right now.

All these might just be rhetorical as I may have the answers yet, chose to welter in the ocean of thoughts. Anyone up for a song though Christmas is still a good six months away?

Be blessed, people! Be careful of burnout. Let's look forward to the weekend.
 

Strangers, again - Stages of a Relationship

This is a short film by Wong Fu Productions. They make some of the nicest videos on Youtube. Some hilarious and some, inspiring. The first time I watched this, I told myself, "Hey, I can totally relate to this one." And it's true that the early stages of a romantic relationship is the sweetest. But as they say, the spark starts the flame and it's up to us to keep it alive.

To those who are reading this, please don't take my word for it. Watch it.

Since I'm too free (it's past midnight now but like I said before, I love this hour), I've extracted some lines that I thought is true of each stage. At least, in my opinion, they are.

Stage 1:

I didn’t tell her that it was my first time running in about nine months and somehow, we ended up going for almost five miles that day. It’s so pathetic to see how guys would do just about anything for the right girl

Stage 2:

All I wanted was to know more about her.
All I wanted to do was to hang out with her.

The only person I wanted to talk to was her.
She was the number one priority.

And every time I saw her, butterflies.

She was everything that I thought could be perfect in a girl...

Stage 3:

Everyone calls it this, and for good reason.

Stage 4:

Some use it positively, continuing to work at their relationship and grow together, but others allow it to create distance.

Stage 5:

Somehow, the girl I was so crazy about a year ago had turned into someone who just wasn’t that special anymore. It happened so gradually that I didn’t even see it coming but there we were, just tolerating each other.

Stage 6:

Problems continue, arguments don’t get solved… I don’t even really remember what we argued about...

Stage 7:

And this is when the two of us will start a new path, one that leads right back to where we started, strangers.

Anniversary note:
This is to remind you of how hard you fell for me when we first met. Haha. Josh, I’m so glad we have each other in our lives. I know that no matter what, we’ll make it through; and we’ll always have a tomorrow together. Happy Anniversary!

Closing:
I think that if life separates us and we end up in totally different places, I’ll always remember when our paths aligned for this period of time… And I’ll be thankful for that. I hope that wherever you are, you’ll be thankful, too. I think that’s the best we can wish for.
   

Mile Marker 418: Puerile Vainglory

When I think of false pride and the exaggeration thereof, I can only think of the self-expression of cuteness involving the gang. Let me explain. It was a rather recent (recent being about a decade or slightly more) phenomenon that we see the 'V' sign making its appearance in photographs. If we see it as a victory sign among rebels in war-torn regions in the world (some raise their fists) or a victory salute, now we have it next to the face and the face usually belongs to a girl.

So, besides the V sign (or 2), I've seen 1, 5 and even 2 to the second power (2^2). I'll let you imagine how those were placed. As far as our being vain is concerned, it all began with this:

Yen Ying, final year undergraduate. Honours year if you'd like.

Somewhere, someone somehow came up with this bright idea of getting everyone to pose in the same manner and then get everyone on Facebook to vote for a winner. In no time, everyone submitted their shots and it's not without variation to the original pose. I never thought my picture would see the light of day, so to speak.

Here goes. Some pictures are not in there due to some reasons (you know what I mean). As always, click to enlarge:

Edit: June 13, here's a video by Wong Fu Productions on the evolution of the "Peace" sign. Entertaining but lengthy.

And oh, since Keng Chong had too much free time then, he did these too:

Mile Marker 418: More Food and the Silly Things We Did

Before this one, the last barbeque I had with my friends were during high school back in ’04. Now, it appears that five years isn’t a very long time considering how fast I’ve reached 2009 and my next outdoor open grill.

 It was about 6 pm that time and preparations were underway. Some pieces of chicken were missing and we're glad we found the culprit.

Many were called (for audtion) but few were chosen. These are the ones who... Let's just say they weren't shortlisted.

 Mash potato was a hit. Oh yeah! Two years on and they're still talking 'bout it.

 Realise this: That back then, everyone was well-fed. It's different now.

 See? Good food for everyone. Dude in yellow is Kiourmasi from Iran.

You see, we're really a very well-behaved bunch. Good mannered and a jolly bunch of young adults.

 That was until I decided to wet my hair, tucked in my T, roll up my pants, and started greeting everyone with a lisp.

 And boy, did Keng Chong and Wendy loved the idea of going back in time and followed suit.

Oh, those stick in our hands were the famed satay!

Looking back at all these pictures never, I repeat, never, fails to cause a smile on my face that will almost always progress to an uncontrollable laughter. Something similar to this:

 I suppose that's all for now. And the journey's nearing its end. Movie night in about 10 minutes. I better make my bed and jump right in.
 

Mudslide, Mountains, and A Mustard Seed

It’s just past 2 A.M. and I love the quiet of such hour. As much as I love staying up and croon to the melody of Jose Mari Chan’s Beautiful Girl, I’m aware of the effects of messing up my circadian rhythm.

So, I was out on another excursion to the blogs of total strangers. I love the different styles of writing that I encountered along the way. That, coupled with the stories told, made for a good read; if not inspiring and heart-warming. It’s so nice to see how close a parent-child relationship is from merely a sentence to how involved and supportive parents are in the next.

Initially, I meant for this post to be about Dante and Beatrice on unrequited love but thanks to a bandwidth well spent, I’ve come to realize that matters of the heart is infinitesimal compared to what people went through in their life.

I learned (from HERE) of one man (Tow Shung, Tan) who persisted in his fight against cancer to the very end but remained optimistic throughout. What would I do if I were him? Maybe I’d wallow in the mud of self-pity and get up, only to return into the pits again.

Another is about another man (David Ting) who began blogging during his treatment of cancer and he has been blogging ever since. One per day.

That reminds me of something I read about Polycarp and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; different outcomes yet the same display of faith to an ever faithful God. I might have missed the big picture and the important lesson in faith, and faith in God alone.

Resolution?

Mile Marker 418: Birthday Bashes

Besides movie nights and open houses, birthday bashes are filled with a lot of laughter and crazy stuff. You only need one person to start the whole affair of getting-cream-on-the-fella-next-to-you or drop-candle-wax-on-skin and there'll be chaos!

Since I can't possible post 50 over photos, I've found a nice feature in Picasa Web Album that enables me to embed a slideshow here. Too bad though, I couldn't put a longer (and possible better) captions to every photos. I suppose I have to sacrifice that for space. Still, it's regrettable.

Ah, 2011 will be the last time we celebrate anyone's birthday. This December 31 being the last birthday bash. Well, time to look at past celebrations. From my very first celebration (with a ridiculously creative way of filling a small salad bowl with vegetable) to the longest (lunch, dinner and supper) incorporating the Christmas gift-exchange by the beach.

 

Mile Marker 418: Engagement and Wedding

Let's continue, shall we?

Of the many outings the gang had, our boss' wedding is perhaps the one event that's big in every sense of the word and one where almost everyone went. As of 1 June 2011, Dr Normi is a one-month-old mother. The first Malay wedding for many of us (more here and here) and Shameem's engagement an Indian Muslim affair. Not sure where the pictures of her wedding went.

Wedding's in Sungai Siput and engagement's at Sungai Petani.

Dressed to kill. Except for Joanne.

Introducing, Firdaus, Shi Rou and Kithalakshmi.

The bride. Shout-out to Wen Tyng, Erna, Wui Chen, Boon Ping (dude behind Kak Mimi) and Kelvin (the other dude on the right). Too bad, Blogger don't have the "tag" feature.

The celebrated couple

Shameem's engagement: Sinan (of the lab) and Ahmad from the Middle East. Amira on the right.

Hmm... I'm not sure who the dude in red is.

Still, every time we went out we'd be stuffed. Don't you just love Malaysia?

Mile Marker 418: Tandoori at Kapitan

The first in the series of outings with the gang. Food is always the goal in every outing. In fact, I can't remember if there ever was a time when we went out without a makan-makan (eating) session being planned. Here, we're joined by a handful of people whilst the others are MIA.

Gaik Ling and Keng Chong (this guy who owes me my car maintenance fees *LOL*)

Kak Mimi and Joanne. Much-loved kak besar (in age *winks) of the lab and the blur final year project student

Xiao Wei (fyp) and Nur Asyura. One broke the measuring cylinder and the other seems to attract a lot of unwanted attention and much teasing. Syura, bila kahwin?

Keat Lay. The second in line after big sister Mimi. Burned out from too much error-prone PCR.

Yours truly. Needs no caption, yes?

The only picture with the food captured. It should be eaten with the hand, girl.

In total, we've patronized this outlet opposite Queensbay Mall no less than 5 times. Lunch, tea, dinner, and supper inclusive. Food and a lot of laughter. Priceless.

Mile Marker : 418

As I've deleted my Facebook account many moons ago, I have downloaded most of the pictures of the lab to my computer. Those pictures need a good storage and each time I look at them, it never fails to make me laugh.

October 2008: that was two months after the convocation and I'm there every other day to maintain culture and hang around. I worked in the same lab, too, during my undergraduate final year project. It was rather empty then.


I officially registered as a postgraduate student in 2009 but by then, the ice has melted. And little did I know, we're going to gel and become a very cohesive bunch in the days to come. Over time, we're joined by other final year project students. I see them as my equal and I detest the term "juniors", used to describe those a year or more younger. So, they're friends and I address/reference them all by their name.

As I near completion in my studies, I'd like to put up a series of posts with pictures of some of the best days in an institution driven by greed and power. It's these guys and gals — each with a truly unique personality — that made life more bearable then. To have crossed path with them is a blessing. It is.

Dreaming Realistically

This entry's from a total stranger. Discovered it on one of my trips when I mope around the net delving into other people's thoughts.

This one's from Something Crabby Shares

We were told since young that we should be realistic...
We were told to choose to study something realistic so that we can get a job in future...
We were told to choose a career that's realistic so that we can earn enough money...
So, we listened.
We start to be realistic.
We stop to dream big.
We told ourselves it was impossible.
We stopped pursuing what we once believe in.
We told ourselves we should stick with what's realistic.
So...guess what we turn out to be?
We turn out to be EXACTLY what we were told - REALISTIC.
We buried our big dreams deep in a corner of our heart.
We got a realistic job like what we have been told.
We end up with the so-called realistic future.
Ever wonder....
What will happen...
If we didn't listen to what others define as realistic, but continue to pursue our DREAM instead?
 

Stalking to Know You

A play on the title of the song Getting to Know You from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical, The King and I. Well, I love going from one blog to the other and reading what people write. You’d be surprised that you’re able to learn about that person simply by looking at the style of writing and the tone thereof.

Whether it’s a friend’s or a stranger’s, I do get inspired sometimes. And those were uplifting moments. But then, am I a stalker just by doing that? I’d ask if I want to know but who’s there to answer it? Would you simply open up to a stranger? It’s difficult sometimes when others take your motives the wrong way.

Here are some things worth reproducing by a friend who uses MS Paint, mind you. Click on image to enlarge.

Future. (from shwann: anything and everything)


Kung Fu (from shwann: anything and everything)


Yours truly. Dang! This one looks like it's painted halfheartedly


I Miss You. Missing Me. (from shwann: anything and everything)

Shall we all now sing to the tune of Getting to Know You?

:

Getting to know you,
Getting to know all about you.
Getting to like you,
Getting to hope you like me.

Getting to know you,
Putting it my way,
But nicely,
You are precisely,
My cup of tea.
:

For the clip, please click HERE.

Cheers on a Friday night. Back to blog-hopping.

My Biggest Regret in Life

No, this ain't about my regret. Gotcha! It's another video by The Jubilee Project to raise funds for Services for the UnderServed (SUS). Amp up your speakers and enjoy!



Ask yourself this, what is the biggest regret in your life? What would you have done? Come to think of it, what's my biggest regret in life? Echoing the guy at 3:03 maybe?
  

Reality Check

If the analytical scale needs calibration and correction factors determined each time a GC column is replaced, then I need a reality check too. I've risen too far, on a trip sustained purely by reverie. Time to return to solid ground, maybe?

Well, they say birds of the same feather...

Catnaps and Holidays

The traffic’s smoother and the roads appear wider. School holiday is surely here. Not only that, it’s the term break for universities here and summer break for those abroad. I’m certain that the days leading up to the exodus are filled with packaging, storage, paper works and a flurry of other activities.

Near or far, be it by land, air or sea (not sure if anyone still travel long distance in a boat), they return. I had my little homecoming the other day. Not really home but rather a place find some quiet. The university library. Apart from the adjoining new building, the old place has more seats and comfortable ones I must add.

There’s the second floor where I spent most of my free time researching life in Angkor and the audio room where I drifted off to a deep slumber only to be awoken by the staff on duty at that time.

Next, I went to the top floor where the four of us did our Biostatistics assignments and other brain-intensive activities. Like I’ve said here somewhere, the university is the microcosm of the critter-eat-critter world and is a foretaste of the ugly things to come. Perhaps, the one saving grace about all this is the library. The place I met and worked with people I know well. It is also a place of bittersweet memories, mind you.

All in all, nothing beats high school. And I’ll pay her a visit soon.

June already? Time flies.