2009 - January - WOW

How's everyone been? Hopefully the Year of the Ox started well for you.

Because mine is starting out to be the best year of my adult life.

And my worst.

The last month of the year of the Rat (my Chinese Zodiac year! w00t!) which was January brought me much experiences. Some very good and some very, very bad. I started the year literally doing nothing. I had just recovered from the flu (three years in a row I got sick on New Year's!) and I was at home when most were out ushering in 2009.

But I didn't give a damn, I just wanted to sleep.

Fast forward a few days, my colleagues and I had to pull out all the stops for our company's annual dinner. The theme was Caribbean, a theme yours truly campaigned for with utmost vigour (I have a flowery shirt). It was a mad time; I had to juggle increasing amounts of work (some were conveniently dumped on me and my team-mate) plus helping out with the preparations. And it didn't help that the steering committee was reduced to 4 persons after an initial 10. I'll skip the boring bits and go straight to the end: on the big day itself, I finally made a very important decision:

I am not going clubbing on my own accord ever again.*

I absolutely abhor everything about it: the perpetual non-rhythmic beats of "music"; the excessive drinking where you're labelled a teetotaler by a bleeding drunkard just because you can only drink a sip of beer. I loathe dimly lit places reeking of vile cigarette smoke where you have to squint your eyes and shout to your friend, "Where's the loo?" (Never say never, but for now, I'd much rather hang out at a café, sipping a nice cup of hot green tea with some dear friends.)

Just when I thought people who are absolute assholes couldn't possibly get any worse, they do! If you're going to lie, make perfectly sure you do not get caught. If you say you're sick, then at least cover it up properly! Don't do things that allow your cheats and deceit so glaringly obvious. The only positive, the one thing that is keeping me from unleashing bloody murder, is that I am learning how to deal with this nonsense so that in the future I can bodyslam any idiots who pull this stunt when I reach managerial level.

I'm not one to brag, but I think my little cousins look up to me. Or at the very least, like me. Maybe it's because I treat them as children, but not in that typical condescending way of "Who's a little cutey cutey?" It's difficult to explain, but whatever it is, I now feel duty-bound in helping them to develop into fine young gentlemen and hopefully impart to them good points of life.

Every end of the month from now on I will recap the month. I've left out some incidents, naturally, because rekindling the memories would just be painful, but rest assured I've recovered from the hurt.

Enjoy the weekend!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I so need a haircut.

* = Truth be told, something totally out of character happened. Something that would make the future me a bit ashamed of. However, the experience and the wisdom gained is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, invaluable.

Happy Chinese New Year 2009

Hey folks, hope everyone is doing fine.

I've nothing witty to post. Nothing in the way of a whiny rant as per usual. Just a shout out to all to have a very Happy Chinese New Year.

See you next week.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: And to all my foes, well, Happy Chinese New Year, too.

If you're going to dance in the club, wear shoes.

Cats should never be allowed to dance with hardcore kids.

The day that I get married, there will be dancing.

Just don't expect me to bust a move.

Such an intrepid pronouncement can only mean one thing: I tried to dance, or at best, boogey, the other night. At a club. Someplace I normally avoid like a bad case of stinky tofu. My 'dance moves' can be best described as a cross between a fish out of water and a person who just underwent hip replacement surgery. A professional dancer would probably hyperventilate at the mere sight of me swinging my hips to the beat. And speaking about beats, I'm still partially deaf from all the club music. How do people do this week in, week out? Shouldn't they be wearing hearing aids by now?

But why was I in a club in the first place, on my own volition no less? Because my company just had its annual dinner and yours truly was also part of the organising committee. (Massive credit should go to the other three members for they were fantastic to work with. You know who you are.) Company outings tend to be a case of jack-in-the-box, you never really know what might pop out. And on that night, what popped out may even be too hair-raising even for the seasoned party-goers. It was so surreal, so much so I thought to myself that this is like a warped episode of The Office (the original one), replete with me and my friends acting like total dunces.

It's kind of strange watching your colleagues, especially your seniors, letting it all loose and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Earlier in the day they were busy fine-tuning the memory settings of a particularly lousy system but now they're trying to get as much food and drink. Managers who have the most sedated countenances ever were shouting and heckling and toasting like there was no financial crisis put the younger ones in their place. Heck, even the nerdier (for lack of a better word) persons were unlading the crazies on the dancefloor.

Goes to show that even the sturdiest can have a loose screw. Or two. Or three.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I can't do the limbo rock for nuts.

Goodbye 2008, hello to more procrastination!

The first week at work after the Christmas and New Year holidays is always the hardest. More often than not, the body may be dressed up in work gear but the mind is still in shorts mode. But enough of such enmities, it's time for the first meme of 2009! I so love memes. They're so...memelicious.

Hmm...

The What the Heck You're Up to Now meme:

Where is your cellphone? Somewhere. I hope.
Where is your significant other? Next to me. If I had one.
Hair colour? Slightly darker than black.
Your mother? Out with my sisters.
Your father? Look up to the sky. You might see him.
Your favourite thing(s)? My thing. Wahaha! If you're referring to belongings, then it would be too many. But if you're referring to things as things I cherish the most, it would have to be my family, friends and my life.
Your dream last night? Had a nice chat with the personal trainer chick from gym. She was by far the most beautiful sight I will most likely see all year.
Your dream/goal? To rule the world.
Your hobby(ies)? Again, the best things are in three's: working out, having awesome chats with my buddies, enjoying life.
Your fear? Not being liked. Serious!
Where do you want to be in 6 years? Being the boss. To my boss's boss!
Where were you last night? At home.
What you’re not? A girl?
One of your wish list items? For now, a better job.
Where you grew up? In a house with my family.
The last thing you did? Checking this site out for the latest football news.
What are you wearing? Don't worry, I am wearing clothes.
Your TV? Um, downstairs?
Your pet? Never had one, never will.
Your computer? Using it now to do this meme.
Your mood? Insouciant and covetous.
Missing someone? Hmm, crikey! I left my grandma at the arcade. Again!
Your car? It has seats and a steering wheel, the last I remembered.
Something you’re not wearing now? Make-up.
Favourite store? Book stores make me happy the most.
Your summer? It's a perpetual summer here in Malaysia. Sometimes it's all right. Sometimes it's horrid. It's so-so at the moment.
Love someone? Myself, most definitely.
Your favourite colour? Darker black.
When was the last time you laughed? Well, the last time I laughed really loud was in the office last Friday. That was a riot.
Last time you cried? Last Thursday. Me and the guys from office stood outside our building and we talked the most splendid nonsense, ever. It brought tears of joy!
Are you a bitch? I'm more of a bugger. But I can be a bitch when the occasion arises.
Favourite position? Upright.
Favourite past time? Not working.
Are you a hater or a lover? I'm more of a clown. But I'm more of a hater now. I hate Chelsea!
Are you genuine or fake? I'm genuine if I consider you a friend but I'm a fake if you're someone I detest.
Any vice(s)? Miami. Retarded joke aside, my vices would have to be procrastinating, checking out girls when I'm supposed to be working out, checking out girls when I'm supposed to be working.
Pro-life or wire hanger? I believe in the adage of "the punishment should fit the crime".
McCain or Obama? No contest, whatsoever, it has to be Obama.
Pro plastic or natural? Natural, naturally.
Dream job? Not the one I'm having at the moment.

I tag Angie and whoever who wants to do this.

Be nice now, people.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Here's a big shout out to the return of Syar and Nadia. These two ladies are quite possibly the most entertaining writers Malaysia has not seen enough.

Even 2009 is taking its time to get started...

Seriously, the start of this year has been rather slow, lazy even. It's as if 2009 is waiting for 2010 to take over and be the "Good Year".

It's as if 2009 wants to be the lazy one and is hoping that 2010 will be the bright child. And I'm inclined to follow in its footsteps.

Maybe it's just me. After all, last month was where I was the least productive; I simply did not care for work. I just wanted to get through what little working days I had without any fuss so that I could enjoy the off days. My mind was at ease even when the "big" problems reared its ugly, um, rear.

So now the first month of January is upon me, and quite frankly, I don't really see anything that'll make me go, "WOWS," work-wise most especially. But then again, it's my fault. The economic downturn has really put a damper on many a company's plans, so jumping ship right now with the clothes on my back and with nothing else, is pretty much a giant risk. I guess I should stop procrastinating and update my resumé already.

Here's hoping to a somewhat productive, or at the very least, interesting, week ahead.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I still need to get me a new pair of trousers. Curse you, Marks and Spencer, I don't wear 40" trousers!