I'll be seeing you later, mate.

The skin on my face still resembles an albino rabbit's bum. Pink. Beads of sweat trickle down the side of my face where only a day ago I was trying to find a thicker jacket to fight against the cold of morning. Hands feel clammy as I type this. Funny, two days ago I couldn't feel the fingers attached to them when I was out in the city, on a chilly, windy, rainy afternoon. When I walk out I smell cat poo and rubbish. I miss the cool breeze, the crisp zephyr, its freshness a welcome sensation.

I hate to say this, and I really do hate it, but I miss Melbourne.

4 days in the capital of Victoria, whilst an absolute drain on the bank account, was a fulfilling and rewarding experience. Not to mention it was also a much deserved break from the gruelling hours at torture work. Even a week would barely cover the city's offerings but me and RM did our darndest best to canvas the surroundings, from main roads to little lanes with their hole in the wall restaurants. As each turn becomes more familiar the more enchanting it became. Collins Street with its sibling, the aptly named, Little Collins Street, charmed us with their modern and chic boutiques, the solemn-looking Victorian era buildings providing a certain majestic quality to proceedings. We were thoroughly enamoured with Degraves St and its busy yet quaint eateries that were packed to the brim with hungry patrons. 

Love immediately befell onto Queen Victoria Market. Remember that dank, constantly foetid wet market that you hated going to but you needed lamb for your roast? You won't find it here. Clean is an understatement. Fresh doesn't even cut it. The meats and seafood were so fresh that any fresher you had to kill it yourself. Walk on over to the other side and you'll find yourself in the gourmet section where cheeses and sausages of any flavour are sold. African spices mingled with the aromatics of coffee and tea perfumed the air. Want a taste of the food? Just ask and you'll get a morsel with genuine smiles unlike here where if you asked to try a tiny piece of food you'll be met with a smile that wants to poison you and leave you with gangrene on your ears. 

Melbourne Zoo was all right as it rained the entire duration we were there. Wait, it rained the entire day. For the first time, I felt what it means to be cold. I did not show it but it was there. I'm finding zoos to be sad institutions where animals are no longer free to be. When you see a bear going in circles you know it isn't right. However, zoos are a necessary evil as it's the one place where children will be exposed to the plight of the animals. If 1 out of 100000 manages to see this truth then it's good enough. And, folks, if you don't see gorillas in the open then just head to the food preparation area and sure enough you'll be greeted by one. A ginormous silverback sitting at the edge of the room, staring at you like some insignificant fly. Melbourne Aquarium was a lacklustre jaunt that had penguins crapping all over the artificial snow and seeing giant stingrays.

The picture doesn't do this handsome fellow any justice. It was really freaking huge.

Have I forgotten about the food? Of course not, mate! We tried as much to not repeat a cuisine and we somewhat succeeded. Gourmet sandwiches here in Malaysia represent our best offerings with choice selections of fillings. Over there they're just sandwiches. But they taste fantastic. RM had the best lamb souvlaki ever. Greek baklava while gorgeous to look at was hellish to eat as it was the sweetest thing I've ever eaten. We had Korean barbecue that had the best-tasting beef and pork you could find anywhere. Here's a tip: never order Japanese food cooked by Hong Kong people at place called Monkey Bar near the Melbourne Aquarium. I also had the best Italian food, eating Papa Gino's pizza. It was so good the old man beside us had his carbonara dribbling all over his face.

Green tea. And larvae?

Albert Park is where I think I would spend a lot of time if I were there. The park was simply amazing, be it for jogging or taking your family out for a stroll. The thing I loved the most was that people were out in the park most of the time on Sunday. Can you imagine going to the park in KL at 3pm? You'd be baked alive and not to mention you and your family would be a target of thieves. This goes to show the forward thinking of the Australian government and its respective states handling of their own areas. 

It was sad when we were packing our things. Even though we were there only 4 days it was the most satisfying 4 days of 2010. We will never forget how the people and their kindness* they showed to the two of us. This was our first trip and it's certainly not the last.

G'day, mate!

This is Chris, signing off.

* - Thanks be to the old woman who gave us 5AUSD for tram ride to the zoo. Bless her soul.

P.S. This is just the holiday recap of the trip. Please check back soon as I'll be writing about my real thoughts of the trip.

Roaming in Melaka requires an igloo.

The streets of Jonker were alive with people of all ages.

Most of them were idiots. The heat was searing, unbearable at times. Our clothes soaked through in our sweat.

Man, I miss those times.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: This is going to be an awesome month.

Ah, yes. I'm back!

How has everyone been?

Great, I hope. Last weekend was an absolute blast. The much-needed holiday in Singapore came and brought immense relief to me and my friends. The two weeks prior to it were incredibly stressful; so much work needed to be done before I felt the holiday spirit rising in me. But when we touched down at Changi airport did I feel finally at peace. Four days without checking emails and answering various idiotic questions from idiotic users was afoot!

With every visit, I grow to like the island more and more. I've always maintained that I would love to work there someday, for a few years even. I don't know why exactly but whilst the pace on the island is so a lot faster than back here I feel as though I am at ease, that I don't need to rush to get to somewhere. Even when we got lost in some remote part of the city at 8pm (the bicycles were everywhere!!!) I didn't feel like we were going to end up in the newspapers: 3 Malaysians and a Filipina, lost in the wilderness that is Marina Bay, amid a million bicycles. I dare not walk outside my house after 8pm. That's how safe I felt.

I won't get into the boring details of the holiday as nothing out of the ordinary happened. Funnily enough, it was the guys who came back with the most stuff as our respective partners were wonderful and patient in waiting for us and tolerating our inanities. On behalf of my friend and myself, Terima Kasih and Salamat to the girls who made this trip a whole lot more special.

And, now, I shall leave you with this nugget of a video. He may be wooden as a brick in the Potter films but, by jove, does he impress me with this cameo. Enjoy!!!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Same time, next year, guys and gals?

Time out!

Folks, by the time many of you read this I'll be in a land far-away than mine.

Well, it's a far-away land if you consider a 45-minute plane ride, urm, a far-away one.

Take care and as usual do not fret as I'll be back next week to post yet another illuminating diatribe on why Singaporean food sucks.

You know you can't wait for it.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I'm super duper excited!

Grab that crotch!

Caveat: Long as heck post up ahead!

I like beaches.

There's something about having sand underneath your feet, the gentle breeze breathing down your neck, the crisp salty air; it all comes together to create a calming feeling. Of course, after nearly drowning in 20 feet waters makes you appreciate the feet being on land even more.

Last weekend was spent with my mates from work on a team-building expedition that involved the worst team-building activities known to man, the toughest beef from cows who certainly weren't slaughtered with justice, and me jumping into the sea wearing an odorous life jacket with nothing more than a wing and a prayer to the gods of metal.

Man, I miss those times.

The journey began at midnight (there really couldn't be any better time, seriously) with everyone gathered at the foot of Tower 2, KLCC. We boarded the bus full of buzz and departed the hustle and bustle of the city towards tranquillity (oh how we got it wrong) of the island. As sleepy and tired as I was, it took me some time before I could count sheep. Or deer. Some weren't as fortunate, as they battled comfortless chairs and a ride smooth like butter on jagged rocks. We stopped at a little shack by the side of the road for a quick break at the ungodly hour that was 4 a.m. Essentially this was a smoke break for the driver so everybody took this chance to pee into a hole in the ground. The relief was immense across the board. The next 5 hours or so seemed like endless tarmac and gloomy trees as we travelled using the trunk roads which snaked through village after village.

We arrived at the jetty bus-lagged and famished. After eating our less than spectacular breakfast we got on speedboats to the island of Perhentian Kecil. I'm not too fond of the sea (damn you Mr. Spielberg and your Jaws!) so the vastness of the open ocean was quite breathtaking to say the least. But I enjoyed every wave-filled second of it. As we approached the beach a veritable jungle with chalets dotting the surroundings was seen. The view was simply beautiful. I'm not one to fawn over my country's places of interest but this comes highly recommended. Just stay away from the food (more on this below).

As usual, I tend to get the short end of the proverbial stick, but, this time I got to share it with two of my best mates. We're big guys and even with me being the shortest (but most built of the three) the room just barely accommodated us. The beds were small and emanated a strange odour with unidentifiable stains on the sheets. Hmm. Have I forgotten to mention that there wasn't any hot water? Well, we showered with water so cold it froze our extremities. The room was terribly stifling so much so that every single fart lingered for ages. Hmm.

The restaurants and food stores on the island close early. Like, 930 p.m. early. This pissed us all as the food provided by the hotel was first-rate crap. Dinner for the two nights we were there consisted of the most supple beef steaks that could only be cut with swords. There was also endless supplies of chicken necks and vegetables so limp one look turned them into vapour. And don't get me started on the misspellings of the food. Pankages, anyone?

The team-building "training" we had to go through ranks as the pinnacle of terribleness. Granted, we came to the island not wanting to attend any classes but due to the sensitive issue of wanting to claim fully this shebang from the government the team-building aspect necessitated it that we attend the classes. I've never wanted to get out of a class so badly in my life. The trainer was a real douchebag; none of his activities gave us any impetus to do better in our daily work. Heck, it made us even more nonchalant about our colleagues. We obliged his harebrained games that resembled more like clown curriculum (wonderfully said by Waffle Girl) with activities ranging from throwing colourful balls at each other to butchering My Way with about as much passion as watching paint dry in an igloo. Though, it was nothing compared to what he did on the last day of training...

Remember when I said I'm not too fond of water? Well, I strapped on a life jacket and went snorkelling for the very first time. I kid you not. I was frightened as I don't know how to swim and there's something about being in such an open environment with your feet primed for shark attacks that panics me. But once I got over the initial fear of being in the water and breathing through the goggle's tube apparatus it became quite exciting. Heck, after finally peering into my goggles to look beneath the surface of the water to see the fish and the sea it was quite a rush! Thankfully I had Waffle Girl and Billy to help me along as I couldn't think of two better people to share this experience. And save me from drowning, too.

I'm of the opinion that if you take people from out of the office and put them in a completely different setting you'll get to see the other side of them. And, boy, did we get to see some sides. Give them booze and whoosh! they'll be able to crack some of the funniest jokes you thought only black comedians were good at. Of course, there was a deluded individual who tried his hand at comedy but received a big WTF right on his face for telling us utterly inane jokes instead.

On the last day, Sunday, we were required to attend training at 0800. Since we only had less than 3 hours of sleep (thanks to Billy for keeping us awake with his pseudo-male stripper ala Fully Monty antics) even eating breakfast was a battle of trying to not have our heads hit the plates. But by golly nothing, and I mean, NOTHING, prepared us for what was to come. It all started when we came in late, thus we were greeted sarcastically by the rest. We were too knackered to even grin. What followed next defies everything I stand for as a man of principle, a metalhead, and most importantly, a man who hates to dance! The trainer made us do silly exercises which reduced us to kindergarten children. At the very end of the training, I nearly lost it when he broke into song; an impromptu karaoke of a truly annoying Thai song that can only be described as horror of horrors.

As we left the island, I couldn't help but wonder how simple life is on an island; no bloody computer screens, no traffic jams, no idiots, no grinding it out in the big bad city. But that thought lasted till I reached the boat and started thinking of what I'll be doing next. It's a nice thought, but just that. It wasn't so much a holiday, more like a company visit that lasted three days. A holiday would entail relaxation, calm waters and good food. Instead I was weary, nearly drowned in open sea and fear and had crap for sustenance.

But it was damn good fun, man.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: This post took me a week to complete. And it's only half of what truly transpired during the entire trip. Some things are best kept secret. Don't you agree?

Hooters was a bust.*

First,

Thanks be to the women of Singapore. More on this later.

Is it just me or are Singaporeans absolutely bonkers about their shopping centres? Or in local patois, malls? See any building that has "mall" etched on its facade and chances are you'll see, oh, hundreds and hundreds of people crowding an area that comfortably accommodates 5 people at any time. It it insane. Even Kuala Lumpur (KL) does not experience such waves of humans. (Except for when petrol prices are hiked up. You'll even see old women clamouring to get petrol for their cars.)

Granted, the Grand Singapore Sale is currently ongoing so that sort of explains things a little but it's as though the entire population is out and about. Don't they ever stay at home? If they're not shopping, they're eating. But most of the time they're shopping and eating. And boy do these Singaporeans eat a lot, from deep fried duck innards to squid on a stick, they eat it all. Yet they remain thin and in relatively good shape! It must be all the walking they do and it's what I did most as well. I could walk literally every where in Singapore, not get bored and best of all, feel safe even at night. Doing the same in Malaysia would leave me completely drenched in my own sweat, severely dehydrated and utterly frightened for my life as every passing motorcyclist is a paranoid person's nightmare.

Singaporean females, I have to admit, are hot, sexy and downright pretty. They are also unbelievably conceited. And that's just the teenagers. The more made up ones, whilst undeniably pretty and tall, were so full of themselves that I had no choice but to look at them. The level of pretentiousness is so great I am left amazed and thankful for my Ray Ban's. Surreptitiously glancing at said girls is full of win. That's the culture over there, I guess; it truly is a Singaporean thing. However, to me, the prettiest girls weren't the ones in 5-inch heels, push-up bras or decolletage-baring outfits, rather it was the girls dressed in a simple tee and jeans that caught my eye. While Malaysian girls are steadily upping the ante when it comes to fashion, they still fall three steps back to their counterparts. Even going to the nearby mall you can see young girls in dresses. Small dresses, mind you. What more can I say about the adults? Though, I have to say that my country definitely has the better looking girls. Looks-wise, it's almost equal, give or take the mixed girl or two but there's something that our girls have that many Singaporeans lack: pureness.

Patriotism never looked so good.

This is Chris, signing off.

* = Get it?

PS: To the women of Singapore and especially those in Hooters, I still love you all long time. I'll be back.

The Hunt for the Forbidden Drink.

One of the more interesting tales from the holiday trip was the search for a most mysterious drink. This drink is said to be so wicked it was even banned in some countries you'd think, whoa, this is gotta be some drink for them to even think it not safe. But more on that later.

As most Malaysians know, Langkawi is known for its rich history, laidback attitude and friendly people. But that's the tourists' brochure version. Langkawi is most known for its tax-free businesses. Want to buy branded chocolate and perfumes? This is the place for you. However, most people come here for the alcohol and cigarettes but most are here for the former. Alcohol is pretty pricey outside tax-free zones so getting nearly half the price on the island is seen as really good deal.

After getting our rented car, we headed to Kuah, a 25-minute drive from our hotel. The journey there was pleasant; people were really laidback as evident in their driving. Back home in Kuala Lumpur even in the more rural areas you can still find rickety cars driven by even more rickety people zooming by. Over here, the people are just happy to cruise. At 40kph. My mother runs faster. But the slowness didn't take away anything from us, apart from time, of course. We got to view how life on this island, unhurried and languid, at its natural pace. After guessing to where to turn into we reached our destination and thus began the hunt...

The heat was unbearable. Our outfits were soaked, skin slowly being burnt brown by the scorching heat and the blazing sun. We walked from shop to shop with G-Milo Girl showing to the storekeepers her mobilephone the name of the drink. Being a 99% teetotaler*, I assumed she wanted to get a drink that was not commonly found back home. Just under half an hour, when we arrived at what was store 6 in our quest for this elusive, enigmatic drink, I decided to ask G-Milo Girl for the name. Lo and behold! Immediately, a wide grin was etched on my face as the name was finally revealed:

Absinthe.

Yes, people, absinthe. The is the same drink that was banned in America till early 2007 and is legendary as it is infamous. I knew right away of its reputation and difficulty in acquiring it. The trio of Waffle Girl, G-Milo Girl and myself soldiered on. Undeterred, we went to practically every store that had hard liquor before being tipped off about this one big shop. If that shop doesn't have it, then surely the rest won't either I had jokingly said to the girls that I can only imagine that we enter a small, dark and dingy shop owned by a storekeeper with only one eye and a patch, following him into a labyrinth under his shop to the location of the unholy substance Instead, we ended up in a shop which was brightly lit and manned by an impudent boy. Alas, no shop on the island did not carry it but it was worth a shot.

This got me thinking, the more something is forbidden, the more it is infamous yet is somehow reachable, the more curious we are. I know for a fact that absinthe ain't Jolly Shandy, unless you view being jolly with hallucinations is fun. Curiosity killed the cat, we all know that but maybe a little curiosity is good.

Being a little bit naughty can't be wrong? Right?

This is Chris, signing off.

* = I probably imbibe alcohol typically once in a while but when I do I normally go for beer or liquor with low levels of alcohol.

PS: Upon digging further, I found this link. I normally do not advocate the consumption of alcohol, but if anyone were to check out the places listed in the link and can vouchsafe the existence of absinthe, do buzz me ASAP!

PPS: Post number 3 in a week! New world record!

Deep fried chicken skin. Cream on legs. Tight embraces. It was surely great times.

Penang.

Considered to be Malaysia's premier island, Penang is a fascnating state that is as modern as the capital, Kuala Lumpur. It's been called a food paradise. It blends the old and new like no other.

Pfft. Only a true Penangite would say that. We all know the truth. Yes, we do. Malacca is where it's at, yo!*

Anyway, enough talk about state pride, let's get on with the show. The story begins when Waffle Girl and I had to take a flight down to Penang in order to catch up with G-Milo Girl who was there earlier on business. I've always been fascinated with being in an airport; I love the hustle and bustle of it, the constant rush of people wanting to get on their flights to see their loved ones or seeing secretive people trying to smuggle durians. The plane ride was pleasant, 30 minutes in the air and back down to terra firma. My only gripe is why do all stewardesses have to put on a tonne of makeup? I could bake cakes with the amount of foundation one uses. Anyway, Waffle Girl got hit on by a couple of just pubescent boys which upon looking at me decided it best not to try further with her. Comedy at 10000 feet above sea level was ensured.

As soon as we landed, we headed towards the jetty to get our tickets for the next day's trip to Langkawi. Then it was a dash to the the hotel to wait for G-Milo Girl. When everyone was freshened up, we went out for dinner together with a friend of G-Milo Girl, Sifu, who said that people driving cars had to be wary of people not driving cars. It was apparent that the people of Penang were fearless as heck as oncoming cars would have to swerve dangerously to avoid hitting them. Later, Sifu was gracious enough to bring us around Penang even though it was getting late for him.** Supper was a short trip down the road from the hotel to a quaint eatery called quaintly, Mr. Pot. Along the way, we saw transvestites. I have no comment. The food was all right. Nothing happened, actually, but I do like the name. Then I spent the first night with the girls and I must say this to all the guys out there: girls will be girls. One of the reasons was that all manner of products were used to tone, moisturise and do things to the skin that I never thought possible. Guys, take note: if a girl is putting cream on her legs, don't ask, just compliment her.

The next day was when we went to Langkawi so you already know that story so I'll just jump to when we got back to Penang after spending only the night on the other island. As you know, besides being nearly frozen to my seat, the journey back on the ferry was 3 hours, a good 30 minutes later than expected. When we got off, we were tired, hungry and smelled. (Actually, it was mostly me.) We re-checked in the hotel we stayed earlier, got prepped for dinner and it was out to Gurney Drive, roughly 20 minutes away. The first thing you'll notice is the congestion, long lines stretching from the beginning of the road till the very end. Then, you'll see the row upon row of shops, hotels and restaurants. My kind of town. Parking space was going to be an issue as everyone (I noticed a lot of old women, c'mon, give this poor guy a space to park so that he can eat!) wanted any space. So we found one quite right at the end, and while this is going to pain me greatly, hot damn can G-Milo Girl drive a car. She managed to squeeze her car into a tight spot which would've made some driving instructors green with envy. Dinner consisted of local fare; fried noodles, noodles in soup, and fried stuff. Stuff meaning deep fried chicken skin and squid. Now, the squid, I loved a lot but the chicken skin? Oh, man. The last time I ate chicken skin was KFC's when I was 10. But the minute I bit into it, damn, this is some good skin. Sinfully delicious was the phrase and rightly so. I wonder if my skin is smoother now. Hmm...

On the last day of the holiday, we woke up early, and headed towards the bus station to get tickets for me and Waffle Girl home as G-Milo Girl had to stay back for work commitments. It's never easy to say goodbye so we tacitly agreed to not talk about it instead focused our attention to make the last day as good as it can be. So we chatted in the hotel room's floor, crossing our legs and start regalling each other about our experiences. It was nice but what made it more intimate was to see how close the bond between Waffle Girl and G-Milo Girl had. It was special even though I know Waffle Girl would beg to differ since according to her I only saw a miniscule of it. I can only hope that my own friendship with them would be even a smidgen as good as theirs. As we finally parted ways at the bus station, I could see sadness but also happiness between the two girls as they embraced each other tightly. Words fail me. Folks, this is what real friends are all about.

The trip not only recharged the mind and body, it also recharged the spirit. I am already looking forward to the next adventure.

This is Chris, signing off.

* = I still love you, Penang. I mean, 30 cents parking? Unbelievable!

** = For that, thanks be to Sifu. Worry not, I will find a way back home if I was stranded in Penang because of your clear and concise directions.

PS: As you may already know, I don't post 2 entries in the same week let alone in 2 days but I felt compelled to get this story out. At least it's better than doing work.

Nearly heaved my breakfast out. Got sunburnt. Almost froze to death. Man, I wanna do all that again!

Phew...

I haven't even changed from the smelly clothes I'm in but here I am blogging about the holiday I just came back from. You want to know why?

Cos it was damn fun, man.

Let me explain: my colleague and her best friend were planning a trip to an island called Langkawi, Malaysia's version of Hawaii minus the Alohas, half naked Polynesian women and flame-throwing, grass-covered males. So I jokingly said to my colleague, Waffle Girl, can I join? That was about two months ago. Then one fine day last month or so, she comes back to me and says, hey, remember that trip I told you about? Would you like to join us? I immediately said, urm, you do know that I was just kidding? Do you want to go or not, she said. If you're really, really, really, sure about this, I'm in. She shrugged, smiled, and said, we're absolutely fine and we'll be at the beach and you know what that means.

Which sane man would've said no?

Thus, four days ago I spent my first holiday of the year with two chicks. We had a blast, right from the get go. It started on the ferry ride as we nearly heaved towards the island. It was horrendous. I had to summon all my energy and mental strength in order to keep myself from heaving my breakfast of 5 eggs onto the front passanger. Yoga practitioners would've been proud of me. And when we reached the island we checked into the dinkiest hotel on the island, dropped our luggage and headed out on our first adventure. The weather was blazing hot while the humidity was sensationally, urm, humid. We explored the island, took pictures while I posed for them like an escapee from a mental institution and ate and ate and ate everything on sight. Then came dinner which was a feast big enough to feed double our number. I swear to you, them prawns were as long as Waffle Girl and her best friend, G-Milo Girl (don't ask), arms! So after stuffing our faces with delectables island-inspired dishes, we went to the only reggae-themed bar on the island, Babylon Mat Lounge. Now, I'm not a fan of reggae at all but the ambience and the beautiful company made the music sound great. Don't worry, I won't do dreadlocks. I won't go into detail as to what entirely transpired so I'll just skip to the end and say that when it came time to depart, a big sigh of sadness was released as we waved goodbye to the island. Oh, before I forget, the damn ferry back home was freezing cold. Even some English folk that were with us were cold. Brrr! Lastly, when it came to go on our own ways, the sadness multiplied tenfold as it had been an incredible time albeit a short one. But we know we're going to see each other pretty soon*.

It's funny how holidays can change your perception of things as you tend to come back from them a little wiser unless you're a dingbat, of course. You become more aware, more in-tune with yourself and others around you. Especially if you travel with your friends for the first time. You'll learn their quirks and their idiosyncrasies, what they like to eat, what they do when they sleep (sorry for the snoring, I swear, I didn't know I did), but at the end of it you learn to really appreciate their company. And that is what made this trip even more special; friends help you but great friends are there for you. If that doesn't make you humble and appreciative of them then I don't know what will.

The last four days have been mightily interesting and satisfying, to say the least. In some ways, it was like the Amazing Race: we hopped from one island to another within 24 hours. (Okies, it was 2 islands, but we did do the hopping.**) It was hectic. It was moist. It was draining.

But most of all it was helluva fun!

Thank you, Waffle Girl and G-Milo Girl, for this great trip. And if I seemed quiet at some parts, my sincerest apologies. I just wanted to savour the moments where I got to be with the two of you. Also, thank you for entertaining this clown at times as I know I've enlightened you two more about me. I can now get struck by lightning knowing that I slept in the same room with two gorgeous women. 

W00t!

This is Chris, signing off.

* = I took G-Milo Girl's stuff by accident. So, yeah, I have to give it back to her. Tee hee.

** = Actually, it all started in Penang but I'll save that for the next post.

PS: Deep fried chicken skin should be made illegal. They taste so good but so wrong!

Number 18 and counting. Glory, Glory Man United!

Real men don't cry. Sometimes real men do.

I nearly did.

Manchester United drew with Arsenal but that was enough to see them clinch their 18th Premier League title last Saturday. It was one of the best moments of my football life. I may not play the game, but I sure as heck love it!

But the thing that got to me wasn't the end, it was in the 67th minute when a diminutive player from Argentina came off to be replaced. It was emotional, not just for him, he waving to the crowd as though it was his last game, but to all who watched him in person and on the telly. Carlos Tevez may not be as prolific as a goal-scorer he was once when he first started out but his ebullience, tenacity and never-say-die attitude has made him a much loved character to the Old Trafford faithful. All I can say is, keep the bugger. He is worth it. And if Lady Luck has a sense of humour, she'll make sure he punishes Manchester United were he to play for another club. I'm sure of it.

Besides that, while Wolverine was a complete bore and utter disappointment, Angels & Demons was surprisingly good. Tom Hanks for once didn't annoy me with his nasally voice, he actually endeared his character to me. Not bad, Forrest! And, of course, Ayelet Zurer is what a woman is: beautiful, strong and smart. Ooh la la.

Also, I'll be going on my first holiday of the year. Yes, before anyone thinks I'm a workaholic (only if the job is worth it) I thought I might as well unwind a little, especially since the last few months have been trying. I so can't wait to get me some, in my humble opinion, deserved rest and relax.

Here's to better weather and no more cases of H1N1!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Star Trek is absolutely friggin' brilliant!

2009 better be kind to me.

Ho, ho, ho!

How's everyone been? Man, I'm still so stuffed from stuffing my face from the last five days, I feel like a bloated octopus with my tentacles wrapped around a big pipe.

Hmm...

Anyways, Christmas was good. Took my little cousins out and it must be said that seeing them with their big smiles made the absatively horrid traffic jams seem a breeze. ('cept for one stretch where we got stuck for about 10 minutes, moving centimetre by centimetre very painfully slow, and with the sun blazing it sort of baked my legs.) Since my own childhood wasn't exactly the rosiest, this is the best I can do to make up time for all the non-happenings during those bleak years. And I now banish any notion that I was a heavy eater back when I was the village pudgy boy. My cousins ate more and faster than I ever did when I was their age. And they're like friggin' sticks! That talk back! Argh!

It must be said that the commercialisation of Christmas and other religious celebrations has become something so big that the other races have joined in the fun to cash in the bonanza. Heck, the other races are more excited than those who actually celebrate their respective celebration. Take my office for example: the Christians in my office were generally laidback leading up to Christmas, while most regarded Christmas as a welcome break from the exigencies of work. But my Big Boss, a staunch Buddhist, was the merriest of us all; he played Christmas carols, old Christmas ditties to even techno versions. I've never heard Little Drummer Boy with so much bass in my life.

In less than a month's time, the Chinese will celebrate their New Year. The cycle will repeat itself again. I'll take my family out again, get stuck in traffic jams and smile all the way. Because being with the family beats being in the office, tinkering away at systems and diagnostics and such.

The new year is fast approaching and as I leave 2008, I can't help but wonder, how the hell did I survive all the shit and nastiness of it all? But I'm also grateful that I managed to get through all the muck and grit, and in the end, emerged (rather scathed, I must say) with invaluable experience and wisdom.

Here's to a fruitful and less migraine-inducing 2009. Have a good week ahead!

This Chris, signing off.

PS: Happy New Year to all!

There’s far too much fish in this town!

This is crazy, I thought to myself. I was hungry and I would have killed for a nice cup of cold ice-blended coffee and a nice plate of spaghetti bolognaise. But the only thing this bloody town had was keropok lekor or fish paste thing (FPT) stalls. And there was lots of it. (I and my friends tried coming up with a more fitting name for it. We ended up calling it “things that make the roofs of our mouths hurt like a bitch.” Suffice to say, this name is too long.) Each side of the road there were FPT stalls and not one single Starbucks. Not even a CoffeeBean outlet (yikes). You know you’re a city person when you crave over-priced coffee.

The town was Cherating and I was there with my friends, Fillit and Sardine.

I’ve known Fillit for 5 years now and while this may have Elton John written all over it, we hit it off right from the get-go. I like to call him the black version of me. The brudda from anotha mutha. We’ve been through a lot together, good and bad (hello little cretin of madness!), yet till this day we remain a solid duo. Just ask our lecturers. I’m sure they will have some nice things to say about us. I’ve known Sardine for sometime now but it was a Hi! and Bye! relationship in college with the occasional, “Man, this college sucks,” talk. So it was nice to talk to her about things I wouldn’t have even thought about when we were college. At the end of the trip, I think we can call safely upgrade our status to good friends as opposed to college mates. Lizards, anyone?

The blackest coffee I’ve ever drank in my life. And that was the worst spaghetti I’ve ever had in my life.

Given that we’re true blue city slickers, it really showed wherever we went. I looked every bit like a tourist—right down to the three-quarter pants and benign smile—while the other two were more or less touristy-looking. Since we abandoned our humility back in KL, we went about town like we were rock stars. Everywhere we went people would give us funny looks, not sure as to how to treat us. We spoke impeccable English (well, just me, tee hee!) but when I and Fillit opened our mouths to speak in Malay, the locals would speak to us nicer.

I’m not really a beach-lovin’ person on account of me being slightly phobic about water. But put me at the foot of a really tall mountain and give me a tiny flask of water and off I’ll go to the peak. The scenery at Cherating, however, was simply majestic. Blue water could be seen for miles while the sand was fine and soft to walk on. The only thing that tarnished the experience was the amount of litter strewn everywhere. Empty cigarette packets and even a discarded slipper were seen. People can be so fucking stupid.

If only all mornings could look like this.

At night, looking up to the stars whilst getting bitten, scratched, and prodded by various insects was quite an enjoyable experience. Stargazing, seemingly a rather frivolous and neck-hurting affair, can be very compelling, soothing even. In our case, we literally talked about everything under the moon. While we couldn’t see each other's face, you could feel our respective feelings. Whenever we saw a shooting star we would make a wish, praying, hoping, that our wishes may come true. I don’t know about the other two but I really did make wishes. What you want in life and when you can’t get it will always drive you nuts. Sometimes even paranoid. But if you’re patient enough, who knows, you might just have your wish realised.

While the other two used this trip to get away from work and all its shittiness, my reasons were purely to have fun and be away from my computer, books and my other comforts. You could say that I wanted to reboot my mind. I did just that, and boy do I feel so much better now. So, to my best bud Fillit and Sardine, it was one of the most relaxing outings of mine and here’s to the next trip.

Let’s just lay off the fish, shall we?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: There’s no tmas in Chris!

PPS: My heart goes out to those who lost their lives in the Virginia Tech incident. R.I.P