Sometimes fate deals out a card that will either make you want to break down and wish for the Apocalypse or you could do the most logical and sane thing, carry on and prove that fate's just a horrid old beeyatch. Sure life will be one helluva bumpy ride ala Kuala Lumpur potholes of death because of the many obstacles that will be faced but I'm going out with all guns blazing.
Therefore, I bid you all adieu for the moment while jump start a new chapter in my life. This is by no means the end of my blogging, it's just something temporary which will render me unable to update as much as I want to. I'm gonna miss reading many of you comments and your respective blogs (I'm directing this at Richard, Jingy, and especially to the dynamic duo of Syar and Nadia, these have been great to me and they're really awesome writers who inspire to me write more). I will miss it dearly. But once I get settled down, when the sea calms and its water is as cool and serene as before the storm, I will return...
Chris is signing off, for now...
Tuesday, 31 January 2006
Saturday, 28 January 2006
TONG TE TE CHANG! TONG TE TE CHANG!
*caveat: if you’re the type that is easily offended when someone pokes fun at lanterns, fireworks, waxed ducks, bak kwa and other things related to Chinese New Year (CNY), PLEASE, PLEASE, READ ON.
As those of you who know my being rather Scroogy when it comes to celebrations of any sort, this year I’m going to try to be less Scroogy. Let’s see, for me Christmas is about seeing girls wearing skimpy dresses and far too short skirts (it happens in churches here WITHOUT FAIL. Practically tradition it is.). Hari Raya is all about eating far too much ketupat and rending and other meaty meats (i.e. NOT lamb :P) while watching Siti Nurhaliza (I like her) belt yet another Raya song. Whereas for Deepavali, it’s about eating with hands (I’m quite proficient unlike some of my friends who tend to shove their hand instead of the food. Seeing them wince in pain is so much fun.), and devouring as much vegetarian chicken as humanly possible. But for me, CNY is all about the red packets and seeing girls in skimpy dresses and far too short skirts and going through it sulky and wishing I was somewhere far, far away from it.
I grew up not knowing what the hullabaloo was all about. I see red packets, I go delirious. That’s it. And not forgetting the massive feast the day before which is given the rather portentous title of Reunion Dinner. It’s where all the brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents and relatives gather to eat more food than is normally eaten. My memories of CNY are always the same: me being left by myself because none of my cousins could understand me, aunties trying to outdo each other’s bouffant and overall auntieness, uncles boasting and guffawing at the top of their lungs about absolutely nothing while the grandfather calls me up to his room, surreptitiously opens his cupboard and gives me extra ang pow.
While it may seem that my CNYs are all right but to be very frank, I hate it. Seriously, I couldn’t give a shit. It’s not like Confucius is going to appear out of thin air and say, “You bad boy. No play the filewoks! No olanges!” or the ever glib businesswoman Lillian Too with the extremely awful dyed hair (She looks like a burnt mangosteen.) is going to personally espouse the virtues of some green stone which can make your house more feng shuied. I’m not bothered by it. To me, it’s just another day. The only difference is that I have to wear red instead of my customary black (groan, red makes me look like an over-ripe tomato.), I have to be nice to people I have no clue who they are even though they know me.
I tend to have a crummy and dreadful time at my dad’s side whereas at my mom’s I will ALWAYS have a ball of a time. You won’t find any faux pas nonsense; it’s all about the family. Everyone is genuinely happy to see one another. And the food, bah! It’s way better here. This post may come across as bitter, angry or even sacrilegious.
Chris signing off…
PS: Have a great Chinese New Year to those who celebrate it. And don’t eat too much olanges ya. ;)
As those of you who know my being rather Scroogy when it comes to celebrations of any sort, this year I’m going to try to be less Scroogy. Let’s see, for me Christmas is about seeing girls wearing skimpy dresses and far too short skirts (it happens in churches here WITHOUT FAIL. Practically tradition it is.). Hari Raya is all about eating far too much ketupat and rending and other meaty meats (i.e. NOT lamb :P) while watching Siti Nurhaliza (I like her) belt yet another Raya song. Whereas for Deepavali, it’s about eating with hands (I’m quite proficient unlike some of my friends who tend to shove their hand instead of the food. Seeing them wince in pain is so much fun.), and devouring as much vegetarian chicken as humanly possible. But for me, CNY is all about the red packets and seeing girls in skimpy dresses and far too short skirts and going through it sulky and wishing I was somewhere far, far away from it.
I grew up not knowing what the hullabaloo was all about. I see red packets, I go delirious. That’s it. And not forgetting the massive feast the day before which is given the rather portentous title of Reunion Dinner. It’s where all the brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents and relatives gather to eat more food than is normally eaten. My memories of CNY are always the same: me being left by myself because none of my cousins could understand me, aunties trying to outdo each other’s bouffant and overall auntieness, uncles boasting and guffawing at the top of their lungs about absolutely nothing while the grandfather calls me up to his room, surreptitiously opens his cupboard and gives me extra ang pow.
While it may seem that my CNYs are all right but to be very frank, I hate it. Seriously, I couldn’t give a shit. It’s not like Confucius is going to appear out of thin air and say, “You bad boy. No play the filewoks! No olanges!” or the ever glib businesswoman Lillian Too with the extremely awful dyed hair (She looks like a burnt mangosteen.) is going to personally espouse the virtues of some green stone which can make your house more feng shuied. I’m not bothered by it. To me, it’s just another day. The only difference is that I have to wear red instead of my customary black (groan, red makes me look like an over-ripe tomato.), I have to be nice to people I have no clue who they are even though they know me.
I tend to have a crummy and dreadful time at my dad’s side whereas at my mom’s I will ALWAYS have a ball of a time. You won’t find any faux pas nonsense; it’s all about the family. Everyone is genuinely happy to see one another. And the food, bah! It’s way better here. This post may come across as bitter, angry or even sacrilegious.
Chris signing off…
PS: Have a great Chinese New Year to those who celebrate it. And don’t eat too much olanges ya. ;)
Wednesday, 25 January 2006
Chris’s Weird Weirds
Syar has bequeath onto me a most pernicious and salacious mission that I simply cannot refuse. It’s called a meme, a term that may seem ambiguous at first but when you keep repeating it loudly over and over and over again, makes perfect sense. It involves me digging very deep into the very being of well, me. So without further ado (and other cryptic messages), I present to you: Chris’s Weird Weirds.
1. Weird habit: This is really, really hard. As those of you who know me, my idiosyncrasies are far and wide and downright bizarre. But I would have to say that my weirdest habit is that I can read a book, magazine etc, listen to music (really loud and heavy stuff) and once in a while I’ll throw in a couple of push-ups. At the same time. Don’t ask me how I do it because I just do it.
2. Weird aversion: Oh my. This is one tricky as heck weird theme. I have literally tonnes of aversions. I guess my biggest aversion would be anchovies and dried prawns. And cockles (or in its more popular known name: kerang). For the life me, I can’t devour those blighters. I’ll spend ages carefully removing any anchovy from my plate of nasi lemak. The same goes for the dried prawns. Yucks.
3. Weird anatomy: Hahaha! Now this weird theme is really hilarious. I guess it would have to be my feet. I wear size 11 shoes, sometimes 12 depending on the cutting. What is weird is that I’m only 5’8 and stocky and I have shoes that are reminiscent of Ronald McDonald’s. Think a bouncer with dorky glasses.
4. Weird sayings: Yet another tricky one. There are quite a number of things I love to say especially lines from movies, music or whatever. I usually change some of the words to enhance so to speak. Unfortunately, I only use them when I remember to but at this point in time, I don’t recall any of hand. Some of my favourites (the ones I DO remember): Holy cow of God! Oh my Godness!
5. Weird posse: I wouldn’t say that the posse I associate with is weird; it’s me that’s the weird bit. He he. It’s mainly because I tend to hang out with people who are either criminally insane or slightly demented.
In hindsight, I’m pretty sure my mind will change and the list above will be different slightly or radically. But I think the above represent me best at present condition. Thanks for reading.
Chris signing off…
PS: To my good (and highly demented) friend, Richard I bequeath onto thee to write your own meme. Go go!
1. Weird habit: This is really, really hard. As those of you who know me, my idiosyncrasies are far and wide and downright bizarre. But I would have to say that my weirdest habit is that I can read a book, magazine etc, listen to music (really loud and heavy stuff) and once in a while I’ll throw in a couple of push-ups. At the same time. Don’t ask me how I do it because I just do it.
2. Weird aversion: Oh my. This is one tricky as heck weird theme. I have literally tonnes of aversions. I guess my biggest aversion would be anchovies and dried prawns. And cockles (or in its more popular known name: kerang). For the life me, I can’t devour those blighters. I’ll spend ages carefully removing any anchovy from my plate of nasi lemak. The same goes for the dried prawns. Yucks.
3. Weird anatomy: Hahaha! Now this weird theme is really hilarious. I guess it would have to be my feet. I wear size 11 shoes, sometimes 12 depending on the cutting. What is weird is that I’m only 5’8 and stocky and I have shoes that are reminiscent of Ronald McDonald’s. Think a bouncer with dorky glasses.
4. Weird sayings: Yet another tricky one. There are quite a number of things I love to say especially lines from movies, music or whatever. I usually change some of the words to enhance so to speak. Unfortunately, I only use them when I remember to but at this point in time, I don’t recall any of hand. Some of my favourites (the ones I DO remember): Holy cow of God! Oh my Godness!
5. Weird posse: I wouldn’t say that the posse I associate with is weird; it’s me that’s the weird bit. He he. It’s mainly because I tend to hang out with people who are either criminally insane or slightly demented.
In hindsight, I’m pretty sure my mind will change and the list above will be different slightly or radically. But I think the above represent me best at present condition. Thanks for reading.
Chris signing off…
PS: To my good (and highly demented) friend, Richard I bequeath onto thee to write your own meme. Go go!
Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Kids are wonderful
It's a magical thing when kids think you're cool. Seriously, being cool in their eyes is well, cool. Kids being kids will hate you once you make them pissed. Of course, you have to be a complete jerk to accomplish such a feat.
I'll be the first to admit that children under 12 scare the bejesus out of me simply because I’ve not a clue on how to handle them. Do I play along and go "Goo goo bah!" or do I be the meanie with a perpetual stern look? Not too long ago, I figured it out. Finally, I now know the secret. The secret to make kids believe that you're one of them. I’m in the inner sanctum of Kiddom. All I had to do was just talk to them. Of course, talk to them about their likes and dislikes and not how one does detects a face using algorithms from Laplace, Sobel and Canny.
After much time spent with my wee free cousins, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not the ogre I thought I was. Sure I do feel like smacking overly rude and downright stubborn children who after repeated threats of bodily harm, continue to wreck your beautifully trimmed bonsai trees. Or trying to see whether or not lil Jack the terrier has worms in its tummy, with a machete no less. I gush (ugh, this is so unChris) whenever I see babies and kids. Provided they're cute and not bugging the heck out of me.
In their eyes, adults are just bigger people with even bigger wallets. They see us older folk as a means to fuel their passion of cheap plastic toys made in Taiping, contraband like fireworks the size of my shoes (11) and sweets so sweet I swear diabetics will run away for dear life. But it's all good really. To see their smiles, the laughter, the pure joy of it and its innocence, is simply priceless.
The greatest achievement so far for me was when I made friends with this little girl who upon seeing me beat my cousin at rock, paper and scissors, announced that she can beat me. Me being the obliging guy, proceeded to beat her senseless. Her incredulous look every time she lost left in me stitches. She even sat on my lap at one point. And I found out later on that she's actually a really shy, quiet girl and doesn't take to anyone easily.
That's when I realized that the world is not that bad a place when there's such happiness and purity.
Chris signing off...
PS: I can tolerate naughtiness to a certain extent but if it happens to be the spawn of some cacodemon, then that's a different story...
I'll be the first to admit that children under 12 scare the bejesus out of me simply because I’ve not a clue on how to handle them. Do I play along and go "Goo goo bah!" or do I be the meanie with a perpetual stern look? Not too long ago, I figured it out. Finally, I now know the secret. The secret to make kids believe that you're one of them. I’m in the inner sanctum of Kiddom. All I had to do was just talk to them. Of course, talk to them about their likes and dislikes and not how one does detects a face using algorithms from Laplace, Sobel and Canny.
After much time spent with my wee free cousins, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not the ogre I thought I was. Sure I do feel like smacking overly rude and downright stubborn children who after repeated threats of bodily harm, continue to wreck your beautifully trimmed bonsai trees. Or trying to see whether or not lil Jack the terrier has worms in its tummy, with a machete no less. I gush (ugh, this is so unChris) whenever I see babies and kids. Provided they're cute and not bugging the heck out of me.
In their eyes, adults are just bigger people with even bigger wallets. They see us older folk as a means to fuel their passion of cheap plastic toys made in Taiping, contraband like fireworks the size of my shoes (11) and sweets so sweet I swear diabetics will run away for dear life. But it's all good really. To see their smiles, the laughter, the pure joy of it and its innocence, is simply priceless.
The greatest achievement so far for me was when I made friends with this little girl who upon seeing me beat my cousin at rock, paper and scissors, announced that she can beat me. Me being the obliging guy, proceeded to beat her senseless. Her incredulous look every time she lost left in me stitches. She even sat on my lap at one point. And I found out later on that she's actually a really shy, quiet girl and doesn't take to anyone easily.
That's when I realized that the world is not that bad a place when there's such happiness and purity.
Chris signing off...
PS: I can tolerate naughtiness to a certain extent but if it happens to be the spawn of some cacodemon, then that's a different story...
Wednesday, 11 January 2006
Catharsis Overkill: The Concluding Chapter of Chris's College-capades
I love the word “catharsis”. It makes me sound smarter whenever I say it. On 23rd December 2005, I felt the full release of the emotional baggage I’ve carried for 3 years.
On that day, it was the last exam ever for most of us. For my stream, it was the easiest paper ever. For the rest, it was their hardest paper ever. (My abuse of the word “ever” does not stop here by the way). It did help that we had some *coughhelpintheformoftheactualquestionscough* tips before the exam. It was like activating cheat codes in a game, fun as heck but it makes you feel like a loser for not trying your best. I left the exam hall victorious but it was nothing meritorious about it.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve watched far too much American shows where every time there’s a gathering or whatever you call it, feelings and actions of all kinds will be displayed. Oddly enough, none of that happened. This is may be due to the Asian culture of ours, it could be because that APIITians are just unemotional automatons who’re hell-bent in creating the ultimate program. There was not a single person who mimicked a waterfall of tears. There weren’t any embraces that would have put bears hugging bears to shame. Strangely, there was more of the manly man type of hug where the dudes involved will embrace by grabbing each other’s hand while the other hand pats the back and saying things such as, ‘Macha all the best ya’, ‘Dude all the best ya’, ‘Yo Mafaka you, take care ya hear me?’ The women folk of course did the air kissing of each other’s cheeks. Smiles and lots of camera flashes bore witness to the unspectacular and tepid end to our tertiary education.
Since it was only 1pm and most of us were quite hungry even though our dear college threw us a farewell party (it was more like “Get the Heck Outta Here Lah” farewell), we headed to good ole McD’s for lunch. After devouring my fries, Big Mac (which was bloody hell tinier than the last time I ate it (which was about 2 years ago)) in about 2 minutes, I spent the next hour or so sitting next to my dear friend who shall be known as Amritsar. As we were in the middle of a group of unemployed and uncertain of graduating people, we chatted about gory movies, how much we’re actually terrified of them and intermittently talking to the rest. I could hear from her side tales of someone’s brother’s cousin’s sister’s friend’s uncle who knows another uncle’s friends from somewhere who did something and in the end, in true Bollywood fashion, they all lived happily ever after. My side was mostly tales of how Singaporeans treated them poorly and how spacious the taxis were. And not forgetting how the chicks dressed. Ooo.
As I was driving back home, wonky feelings started to creep out slowly. It was like a cross between of relief and sadness. Relief because of obvious reasons while sadness for well, even more obvious reasons. Let me put it this way: Last day of college = last day I’ll probably see some of these people. Call me sentimental. Call me sappy (but not the Richard Clayderman kind of sappy yes?). The memories will be cherished. It will be reminisced whenever I and my friends get together. We’ll laugh. We’ll cry. We’ll sigh. We’ll smile. But most importantly, I’m glad and proud I went through the many dimensions of hell together with my friends cos honestly, it was well worth the trip.
Chris signing off…
PS: O right, this is going to be my last college based post for the time being. Hope you all enjoyed reading.
On that day, it was the last exam ever for most of us. For my stream, it was the easiest paper ever. For the rest, it was their hardest paper ever. (My abuse of the word “ever” does not stop here by the way). It did help that we had some *coughhelpintheformoftheactualquestionscough* tips before the exam. It was like activating cheat codes in a game, fun as heck but it makes you feel like a loser for not trying your best. I left the exam hall victorious but it was nothing meritorious about it.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve watched far too much American shows where every time there’s a gathering or whatever you call it, feelings and actions of all kinds will be displayed. Oddly enough, none of that happened. This is may be due to the Asian culture of ours, it could be because that APIITians are just unemotional automatons who’re hell-bent in creating the ultimate program. There was not a single person who mimicked a waterfall of tears. There weren’t any embraces that would have put bears hugging bears to shame. Strangely, there was more of the manly man type of hug where the dudes involved will embrace by grabbing each other’s hand while the other hand pats the back and saying things such as, ‘Macha all the best ya’, ‘Dude all the best ya’, ‘Yo Mafaka you, take care ya hear me?’ The women folk of course did the air kissing of each other’s cheeks. Smiles and lots of camera flashes bore witness to the unspectacular and tepid end to our tertiary education.
Since it was only 1pm and most of us were quite hungry even though our dear college threw us a farewell party (it was more like “Get the Heck Outta Here Lah” farewell), we headed to good ole McD’s for lunch. After devouring my fries, Big Mac (which was bloody hell tinier than the last time I ate it (which was about 2 years ago)) in about 2 minutes, I spent the next hour or so sitting next to my dear friend who shall be known as Amritsar. As we were in the middle of a group of unemployed and uncertain of graduating people, we chatted about gory movies, how much we’re actually terrified of them and intermittently talking to the rest. I could hear from her side tales of someone’s brother’s cousin’s sister’s friend’s uncle who knows another uncle’s friends from somewhere who did something and in the end, in true Bollywood fashion, they all lived happily ever after. My side was mostly tales of how Singaporeans treated them poorly and how spacious the taxis were. And not forgetting how the chicks dressed. Ooo.
As I was driving back home, wonky feelings started to creep out slowly. It was like a cross between of relief and sadness. Relief because of obvious reasons while sadness for well, even more obvious reasons. Let me put it this way: Last day of college = last day I’ll probably see some of these people. Call me sentimental. Call me sappy (but not the Richard Clayderman kind of sappy yes?). The memories will be cherished. It will be reminisced whenever I and my friends get together. We’ll laugh. We’ll cry. We’ll sigh. We’ll smile. But most importantly, I’m glad and proud I went through the many dimensions of hell together with my friends cos honestly, it was well worth the trip.
Chris signing off…
PS: O right, this is going to be my last college based post for the time being. Hope you all enjoyed reading.
Wednesday, 4 January 2006
The only constant in life is... Change
Inevitably, as everything in life undergoes entropy of some sort (this does not apply to the Rolling Stones apparently), so do mere mortals such as myself. Hair will start to fall, teeth soon after and a most unpleasant pot belly will erupt out of nowhere.
So with the new year in my mind (and of the fact that I am sitting here in Starbucks all by myself, dead bored and watching people order their lattes and fraps while trying to look as hip as possible while sipping their drinks. I have absolutely nothing to do for the next 3 hours or so really) I thought, what the heck, let's do a Queer Eye for the Straight Blog on my blog of course!
A change is necessary, no doubt. I'm unemployed (Teehee) and I haven't thought about anything else besides wanting to shoot pink bunnies. Just kidding bout the bunny thing, maybe I'll catch up on my reading and of course, my never ending metal (the music kind, not the metallury one OK) eductaion. So I hope to land meself a job by next month, save as much as I can and God-willing, get a small place for myself.
So until the next post, take care and have a nice weekend.
Chris signing off...
PS: Green tea fraps are teh bomb.
So with the new year in my mind (and of the fact that I am sitting here in Starbucks all by myself, dead bored and watching people order their lattes and fraps while trying to look as hip as possible while sipping their drinks. I have absolutely nothing to do for the next 3 hours or so really) I thought, what the heck, let's do a Queer Eye for the Straight Blog on my blog of course!
A change is necessary, no doubt. I'm unemployed (Teehee) and I haven't thought about anything else besides wanting to shoot pink bunnies. Just kidding bout the bunny thing, maybe I'll catch up on my reading and of course, my never ending metal (the music kind, not the metallury one OK) eductaion. So I hope to land meself a job by next month, save as much as I can and God-willing, get a small place for myself.
So until the next post, take care and have a nice weekend.
Chris signing off...
PS: Green tea fraps are teh bomb.
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