Happy 2nd Valentine's Day to the bestest in the world.

I love you.


This is Chris, signing off. 

P.S. Wayne Rooney, what a goal.

2011. The year of rabbit heads, bigger guns and a potentially new environment.

Happy New Year, everyone! Yes, 2010 is a now a distant memory.

What was supposed to be a grand celebration turned out to be as exciting as watching a limpid soufflé rise. 2011 arrived in a whimper. Besides the pretty firework display, the other bang came with our buck as a feast fit for 10 was charged between 4.

All in all, this was me and my buds preferred choice to usher in 2011.

I've always had resolutions but they never had MUST-DO attached to it. I reckon that if I had done so I would be buggered madly if didn't achieve them. So they're there and I will do my best to fulfil them. Therefore, without any more ado, here they are in no particular order:

• Re-evaluate my career's progression. I have a sneaky suspicion a most radical outcome will be achieved this year. Watch this space.
• Backing off on the heavy weights. While I will want to continue and see if I can get a 150kg deadlift single by mid-year, I want to incorporate a cooling period where lighter weights with higher repetitions are employed. This is to preserve the body as heavy loads tax the central nervous system greatly and in due course gravity may even bring me 'down'.
• Spending my money wisely. 2010 was a wallet-busting year. I tend to go on shopping blitzes and that's when my credit card will see a lot of action. This year I will rein in as much as I can, purchasing goods only when deemed necessary.
• Short temper needs a kick in the arse.

Reading the latest from Anthony Bourdain (look to your right for the book's title) and a few chapters in he mentions that he thought he was the Big Daddy. He readily admits he wasn't. While he could have gone into working at highly prestigious kitchens and work with great chefs, instead, he chose to work at third- or fourth- tier establishments. It's funny that it's because of his 'poor' choices that now he is famous. One can never know for certain if a move in career is going to be the best or worst decision. This brings me nicely to the last resolution:

• Take big risks.

2011 promises to be a big year. Let's see if it does. Good luck to you, too.

This is Chris, signing off.

P.S. Work resumes tomorrow. The wheel turns again. Fuck.

2010 - A Look Back, Part 3

Merry Christmas, everyone. Hope you had a blast.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the much-awaited, eagerly anticipated, oh-I-can't-hold-my-pee third and final post of 2010 is here. Keep holding that pee, this is going to be a while.

Me
After the tumult that happened towards the end of last year what with me ending my association with my first "real" job post 2010 was going to be the year. Yes and hell no. Yes, because people finally know me for me.

On the professional front, I no longer feel trepidation was up against senior ranked individuals, in fact, I view them as equals. When people throw flaming emails at me I don't baulk and back down, no, I throw it back, adding a little acid to burn the edges a little quicker.

Patience and anger can come together at the same time, believe you me. For instance, I don't mind looking for a parking lot during peak hours but if I see a douche taking forever to get out of the bay, I will utter certain words that if printed here would scare off nuns from Jamaica.

RM
Me is not complete without RM. Quite possibly the toughest mineral known to humankind, my RM has been the cornerstone of the success of 2010. Naturally, we have had our ups and downs but we've managed to pull through every time. And that's just our body weight. Adverse times were dealt with pouts and the deafening silence of indignation but in the end we'd overcome them with love and a small tub of green tea ice-cream.

All in all, 2010 is meaningless without her. Thank you, RM.  

This was not a lacklustre year. Heck, the lustre has been pretty good (and downright pricey). What can I expect of 2011? That's another tale to be told.

Someday.

Hope your 2010 was a grand blast and here's a warm welcome to 2011.

This is Chris, signing off.

P.S. Okay, all right, it'll be told next week. It's so hard being so well-loved by all of you.

2010 - A Look Back, Part 2

First up, TRON: Legacy put me to sleep. Not even the delectable Olivia Wilde and her absurd bob could've kept me awake. Was it a bad movie? Nah. Was it good? Nah. I'll leave it at that.

As promised, here's part 2 of Chris's 2010.

Friends
I'm glad to know I can still call a few people whom I know won't hang up on me thinking I'm trying to sell them Amway. I try to leave a lasting impression (it helps when asking if they know of any vacancy somewhere) wherever I am. Glad I've made some pretty good acquaintances this year.

Fashion
Over the years, I've always maintained to be a rugged individual. A man's man. A shorts and tee guy. Give me a suit and I'll give it back to you. My Caribbean-inspired shirt will rock the house down. Urm. Yo.

Not anymore.

Gone are the vagabond stylings of my past. In comes designer articles that could feed entire villages for a week. And that's just the belts. There are some things I think I will graduate to in a long time to come:

• Undies
• Socks
• Ties
• Handkerchiefs 
• Combs

I added the last one just to make it a 5-numbered list because 5-numbered lists look cool. Right?

Hobbies/Likes/Being a dude
Basically, this is me being a dude. I guess the most significant hobby/like/whatever of the year has to be horology or to be more precise, watches. I still know no nuts about a lot of things but I'm slowly becoming more knowledgeable. Or at the very least, not so dumb-sounding when up against seasoned watcheroos.

Next week will be the third and final 2010 retrospective. In the meantime, stay naughty.

This is Chris, signing off.

P.S. Santa doesn't exist. Ho. Ho. Ho.

2010 - A Look Back, Part 1

It's been a good year.

Because I don't really remember 2009 nor the one before that. 2007 and before? I went through all of that? I must've coasted by those years because the memory sure is fuzzy right now. In all seriousness, this year has been a good one. So starting with this entry I'm going to recap (to the best of my recollection, naturally) various aspects and events of what has transpired the last 12 months. In no particular order except what came to mind first:

Work
I've changed two positions this year. The first was a highly promising and exciting post that made transformed me from a lackey doing support work to a big-time Charlie undergoing projects and helping to sell the company. Could it have gotten better?

They told me all of that after I resigned.

Then the second opportunity came and immediately I was taken by the prospect of being the boss. Who could say no to that, right? Turns out I was going to be the boss, the lackey and general garbage collector. Did I hit the jackpot? You bet your Irish bailout money I am.

Truth be told, there was a tiny chance of striking it the third time.

Final judgement to come next year. Stay tuned.

Food
Angus beef? Absolutely and delightfully delicious. Wagyu beef? Wow. Who knew cow fat could taste so good and make me, the Phil Heath-wannabe, eat it knowing it packs an enormous amount of calories? Or what about having balaclava in Melbourne, thinking its name is cool but it's sweeter than eating a spoonful of sugar? Those are some of the firsts of mine and certainly won't be the last time. I've become more open and ready to eat and try anything at least once in my life.

It's been a wonderful gastronomical ride and I can't wait to sample more.

Though, I think I'd rather down a spoonful of sugar than have another go at balaclava.

Music
The current most liked song is Linkin Park's Waiting for the End. A week ago if you told me that I would've taken a spatula and hit you on the head 3 times and wish for a new spatula. Have I gone to the dark side? Or is this precursor to something more sinister?

Fuck no.

I guess I'm slowly starting to be more receptive to other genres besides my beloved heavy metal. I've always been open but I find that I no longer am excited by the latest br00tal as heck death metal band who can play at 260bpm in every damn song.

What's next? Justin Bieber? Kill me if that ever happens!

Training
As you most of you know, I am a gym freak. From being a lard of tub to a tub of hot, the past year has been a brutal year. But having said that I reckon I still am about a year or so from achieving my ultimate goal. I've accomplished two things this year: 110kg deadlift and 300kg leg press. Not bad for a guy who couldn't walk properly 3 years ago.

Look out for part 2 next week where I will discuss friends, fashion and what's it like to be a ballet dancer.

This is Chris, signing off. 

P.S. Note to self, no tutus next year.

What goes fast, faster and FASTER?

The day was tiring. And I didn't even do anything. Funny, eh? You're more tired doing nothing. I guess that's what happens when you're bored and lazy at work. My mind was a blur of thoughts during the journey home. Where am I heading to in my career? Things have slowed considerably the last few months. I no longer look forward to going to work. But that's another story altogether. I just wanted to get home, eat my mom's food and sleep.

I start the car as usual, came out of the parking bay, and with rapt attention maneuver the car through the haphazardly parked cars. There's a hill that's on the way home so I press on the accelerator harder but the response was about as exciting as a tepid jolt from an electric eel. Homeward bound, I thought of nothing else. The car moved slowly up the hill. Usual stuff since it came back from the nearby mechanic's some time ago. Once we cleared the apex of the hill, I took my foot off the accelerator, as I usually do when descending this hill. A weird feeling came to me, this is really odd, my foot's off the accelerator but is the car, what in the world?, accelerating?

What followed next was probably the most surreal driving experience as the car was speeding up on the highway. I did my best to keep things under control, breaking now and then to slow down the car (it's an automatic), and telling my sisters that everything's under control. I've always said that there's no point in having panicky people so it was quite a challenge to keep the car from not hitting the front car whilst telling them it's just a minor problem. For 8 minutes I tried to find a way to stop the car in the safest way possible. As we approached our neighbouring housing area I quickly made the decision to stop the car at the side of the road. Relief came all over me. Danger had been averted. Though, it could have been so much different if it weren't for the calmness of everyone.

The car's all right now, we had it repaired the next day. It wasn't a near-death type of experience (it nearly became a inside a ditch type of experience) but it could have easily been if it weren't for the subconscious mind. I thought of a lot things; keeping the car steady, the safety of my sisters, other motorists, our car, my mom, my RM, my life, the car's repair bill, it all came to me in one go. The mind is truly capable of a lot of things. I'm glad it thought of the right things at the right time.

This is Chris, signing off. 

P.S. In other, happier news, Liverpool beat Chelsea!

Home is where the heart is.

For some, an 8-hour flight can be quite a daunting challenge, more so if it's on AirAsia. Highly notorious as it is famous, the low-cost airline is now making travelling, especially for Asians, a less pricey affair. A caveat: with cheaper prices come cheap seats (them seats were hard as bricks, indeed).

But I didn't see it as a challenge. I saw it as a necessary measure to get to my destination. Being with my RM throughout the journey made it so much easier. Especially 8 hours on me delicate tush.

Coming home from Melbourne after spending four days of unpredictable weather (I adore the cold), rows upon rows of sumptuous fresh food (chicken souvlaki!) and experiencing the niceness of the people to stiflingly hot-like-hell weather, unappetising fare that's about as fresh as last month's socks topped with the cream of the crop of the most inept customer service really got on my nerves. People here just don't know how to treat their customers. But the thing I took away from the trip was something I thought I'd never say:

Melbourne's my kind of place.

For the longest time, I've always had an aversion to Australia. This stemmed from the fact that I grew up hearing horror stories of constant racism and oppression of Asians. Things have changed a whole lot as Asians are no longer perceived as the enemy. Maybe there are a few quarters that bear a grudge but things are looking better for Asians in Australia, especially Melbourne. It is said that Melbourne is cultural capital of Australia and also the most family oriented. I find it not surprising that Asians strive here and strive pretty good from what I can see. Yet, there wasn't any air of discontent, not even a whiff of it.

Over there, people saw each other as people, not by race.

Everywhere, Asians can be seen, even in little housing areas outside of the city. It's the sign of the times, folks. Heck, minutes upon reaching the CBD (Central Business District), I swear I heard a couple of Malaysian colloquialisms. It has to be said that Asians with a predilection for hairstyles that resemble certain poisonous fungi coupled with silly clothing will bring their motherland's culture wherever they are (blond(e) makes Asians look like cheap products, by the way). It is a microcosm that is unhealthy, to be honest. It's the same everywhere; I see Koreans and Chinese here thinking it's their homeland albeit with browner folks. These are privileged people yet their only concern is what am I going to eat this kimchi I got from grandma with. I would miss my hometown, no denying there, but to be in another person's country and replicating everything back home is rude, tantamount to insult even.

But not all are as myopic or close-minded as the above. The people of various ethnicities have a vice-like grip on their roots, akin to the most stubborn of barnacles, yet, they embrace their adopted homeland's generosity and warmth wholeheartedly, without question or fuss. It's something that is truly remarkable. These people were not told to do so, they just knew what needed to be done and they did it. I really felt the warmth of the people as my welfare was taken care of with genuine feelings. Back home after just one day, I had derisive looks from my country's ethnic majority just because I was the only one of my race at the train station. And these were from teenagers. Teenagers that have no clue as to what their actions will lead them to. I pity them for they have no future that is of any consequence. Their attitude towards me has left me questioning the government's efforts in promoting racial harmony.

How come I felt more welcomed in a country that's a couple of thousand miles from my own? 

Now that the country I call home is not what it seems, I'm beginning to wonder, where do I belong? I know it's with family but does the location matter? I've mentioned that we are way off the pace set by Singapore, what more countries like Australia? When RM's friends asked how is Malaysia, I had an extremely tough time trying to come up with something profound, something pertinent, but all I could muster from a tiny rictus of my mouth and said, "Well, we have KLCC." Can you imagine the quiet shame I endured by mentioning the former tallest building in the world as the thing to see when one is in Malaysia? When people visit a country, it should always be about the country's history and its natural offerings, never its artificial attributes.

Going to Melbourne has made me realise how much I am of an outsider in my own country. What with the direction it is taking, it angers and saddens me that in 2010 we are still so far behind in a lot of things. It is a pity that while others have moved forward we are still in a quagmire of our own doing. We may think we are advanced but we are not. We are so wrong.

Crime is still rampant here. I mentioned in my last post that I walked in a park at 3PM and saw families? Well, I walked in a park with 2 other girls. At night. No other soul could be seen. I felt safe and not once did I think my safety or of the two girls were at stake. How can I raise my family here knowing I can't even go to the damn park for fear of thieves and murderers lurking behind some bush. Shops closed at 5PM and while it gave me and RM a culture shock, when we found out that reason was so that people can spend more time with their families, I thought to myself, this is incredible. While it's a bit of a hassle if need new undies at 6PM but putting family above others is something I can only dream about. Malaysia giving such flexibility? Pfft. Not going to happen. It's like saying the races will get equal opportunity.

Dream on, Malaysians!

I hope and pray that one day that we can achieve what others have but it may not happen in my lifetime. I thought I'd never say this but spending the rest of my life in Melbourne or somewhere else for that matter doesn't seem to scare me anymore.

Damn, I really do miss the chicken souvlaki.   

This is Chris, signing off.

P.S. I've never used so much of never in a post. Never.

A welcome break.

It must be said that when you wear a favourite shirt your arms shouldn't feel like they're being constricted by a python. If that happens it means only one thing: your arms are big (duh!). It could be you're of the corpulent variety or it could be the product of doing heavy dumbbells curls and skull crushers. I'm in the latter category, naturally.

The same also applies to my legs, specifically my thighs. Everyone has a body part that responds well to exercise so well that even doing minimal work to them will yield results. I just need to run a flight of steps and I'm done. Built thighs that rival Beyoncé's in seconds.

Recently, I decided to take a week off from working out. (I was fully conscious of the decision I was making.) The last time I took such a lengthy break was when I injured my shoulder, which, was enforced rather than based on own volition. Prior to the break, I had been lifting pretty heavy weights, sometimes for days in a row. The reasons that necessitated the break were simple: 

• To ensure joint health. Lifting heavy puts an enormous amount of strain on the joints. 
• I was getting *gasp!!!* bored of lifting. 
• Muscle mass was acquired quite significantly so much so that I had trouble fitting into certain clothing items I had no problems few weeks before.
• I wanted to see if I could take the break and last one week of non-activity.

It's good to take a break once in a while. It is needed to recharge the mind, body and soul (some say booty as well).This applies to anything at all, from work to relationships. Sometimes the best thing to do is take a step back, reflect on the good and bad, and see where it will take you. If something unsavoury happened, talk it out (of course, if the parties involved were either in a straight-jacket or were the Hulk incarnate that would certainly cause issues) to find out the truth. Once the dust settles then things can go back the way it was and improve from there.

I feel stronger, mentally and physically, after taking the break. Fitting into your trousers back is a wonderful feeling. And very nice on the bank account.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: The Malaysian Mega Sale is on. Yeah, with the lousiest of discounts seen. Pathetic and hopeless. 

Good friends come and go. True friends remain.

What's a football fan to do when there's no football on the telly?

Eat.

It's been a week since the Spanish defeated the Dutch in the just concluded World Cup. What an utter waste of time. Thankfully, I only watched the last half of the match. Sorry, the last half plus the extra bits that should not have been. Is it true the Spaniards the best team in the world? Yes and no. Yes because they are the World and Euro champions. No because they didn't beat their opponents with the utmost precision let alone conviction. The Dutch were absolutely brutal but a momentary lapse in defence saw them give away the game at the death.

But who gives a crap now, eh?

So here I am, still feeling full from ingesting 25 helpings of sashimi consisting of tuna and salmon with various side orders that ranged from deep-fried prawns to oily croquettes. My cholesterol levels have been better, that's for sure. But it was the company that made it all worthwhile. They say laughter is the best medicine, I agree, as I think that all the laughing we did helped us to somewhat curtail the saturated oils we consumed. The great thing about this group is that while 60% of us are no longer in the same office, we get along mighty fine with the other 40%, with no discomfiture experienced whenever there's a get-together. You know, sometimes when people have not seen each other in a while, they tend to get slightly edgy but that doesn't happen with this bunch. I am truly grateful that I can be a part of such company.

Sometimes you quarrel with a friend because of a disagreement. Sometimes it happens because one person does something that is hurtful to another but doesn't realise it. Sometimes friendships, even the supposed best ones, can break because of it. The most important thing to do is to talk it out. Get it out of the system and move on. The poison in you must be expunged from the soul. Then peace will come.

Just don't tell this to the Dutch.

This is Chris, signing off. 

P.S.: Mr Policeman, go and fark yourself. 

You can't always get what you want...

...but if you try sometime, you'll find you get what you need.

I consider myself a headstrong person when it comes to keeping a tight rein in on my expenses. Many of you can attest to my now legendary parsimony; so much so that people associate penny pinching with my face. And they're right.

98% of the time.

1% goes to food. People keep forgetting that I love food. Yes, I can be an absolute Nazi at times; no fast food, no fried food, no sweet drinks, etc, but I really do enjoy food. The only time I indulge, and I mean, really indulge, is when I decide to let loose or to use a workout term: off day. I love pastries (red bean buns, anyone?). I love pasta (serve me spaghetti bolognese and I'll be your friend for life). I love the food that makes your heart scream, shout and eventually surrender in calories and cholesterol. I'd rather pay more for quality than settle for mediocre. And the other 1%?

I love to shop.

I've developed a rather reluctant affinity of spending my money in shops that cater to my ever growing list of things I like. The one time that I let go of myself (and the half-hearted loosening of my wallet) is only known to me. Which I never know. That's the beauty and curse of it. It's more of a curse but a damn lovely curse. You know the feeling you get what you've brought home a new toy? I love that feeling. Sometimes on the way home you think, damn, have I bought the right thing? Holy crap, I spent a bomb on that?! Then when you get home, unwrap it, smell it, feel it and look it you go hot damn! I made the right decision.

But there will come a time when all of that won't mean a thing. Especially when you're going to share your life with someone. If the two of you are wealthy and stable, good for you, but for the majority of people who are just above the comfortable line, myself included, dropping a couple of grand on a luxury item isn't exactly smart. Setting your priorities is paramount; bills need to be taken care of, accidents need to be covered, giving money to family. Those sort of things have to take precedence. However, never forget to indulge. You work so hard and to deny yourself pleasures, be it simple to the exorbitant, will only breed regret. Do what you think will give you satisfaction even if it were minuscule. What you want, what you really want, is something in your mind and you can shake it off. We live in a materialistic world where plastic and fakery is the new world order. 

It's up to you to make a choice.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: If you're wondering if I'm referring to The Rolling Stones seminal classic, you are right. But if you're thinking of the original, you are wrong. I'm a Gleek!

None but my own.

The grass is greener on the other side.

This obviously does not apply to the Wembley pitch.

When I left the joyful halls of D, I left because I knew I wasn't going where I needed to be. Where I had to be. My career was stalled. Confidence at an all-time low. Sanity diminishing day by day. Going home was a torture, depression manifesting itself in the form dancing rabbits, wielding pink batons (okay, I lie). More work came (something I loathed utterly but am now grateful for) and my friends were moving forward so that added pressure to my already pressured state of mind.

But a light came. It was a lifeline. I pounced on it like a lion on impala (not the most eloquent of proses but do bear with me). When I got the confirmation that my nightmare in D was coming to an end it brought massive relief. The great burden was lifted. Though, a wave of sadness came about: I was going to leave D and its people. It wasn't so bad at first but the last weeks there was really something. Leaving the position was easy, it was the people that proved difficult a task. I think I've said it before but I'll say it again: the people of D are the best. 

Fast forward to the first day at the new place and it went pretty well. The team was nice and friendly though they were really, really quiet and kept to themselves. Finally, I thought to myself, here I am embarking on a journey that will pave the way for my ultimate goal: to be super rich and be the boss of my boss. The work came in chunks and they needed to be done fast. A flurry of emails were sent out, work got done, I went back home happy.

For the first month, that is.

The next two became stale and insipid. I would surf the web for hours on end. I asked for work or tutorials on the environment I was supporting but the guys on the higher level were far too busy with their work. The lustre was fading and so was my enthusiasm. I kept telling myself that I need to get through this, it will be worth it, my dream will come true. But I was lonely there. Lunch time was spent staring into my screen trying to do any work that came in. Then, the call came.

I know leaving NA would blemish my reputation somewhat. After all, I was only there less than 3 months. It was a hard decision; if I had stayed it would have taken a year or so to see results. But the new place offered me something I craved: leadership. It's something I excel at and wish to further enhance. So another leap of faith was taken.

Am now about to enter my third week and, blimey, has the work come in droves. I've been in more meetings, concalls, discussions and whatnots than my last 2 positions combined. The team I work with is chattier and livelier while my boss actually views my opinions and thoughts very seriously. He also has given me free reign over certain areas which is something I'm truly grateful for. While I'm the only one in my field I reckon I will move forward much faster in terms of management and technical skills.

Exciting times are ahead. I won't lie and say I'm not worried about the future. I'm scared shitless, actually. I'm doing things I've never done before and I've a responsibility far bigger than I initially thought. But I'm going with all guns blazing. Wish me luck, guys.

The grass is surely looking to be greener here.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Take that, Spurs!

1 down, 11 more.

The end of this month is nigh and it sure as heck couldn't come any quicker. 2010 sure has been a lacklustre year thus far, aye? Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's just you. Oh, well.

Quick recap this year: new job, new surroundings (well, I've been to the place many a time but never as an employed personnel), new faces and, of course, new expenses (!). So far, the new place has been pretty good; have learnt new things in my first 4 weeks than I did at the old place. Even made a booboo, too (try saying that fast, I dare you).

The office: it's so quiet here it's as though work makes everyone silent like a little lamb. People are generally friendly and will give you a small smile that says "yes, you're cute". Work-load is still hit-and-miss, sometimes busy, sometimes freer than a free bird. It'll take me six months or so to learn the ropes of this place fully but I hope to do it in less than time so that I can get promoted and then move on to another place, woohoo! All right, that last sentence is crazy talk but I'm sitting here in the office* wishing it was Christmas and naked Santarinas are bobbing up and down. It's also colourless; very drabby and grim hues surround me. In a nutshell, I've come here to work. Mingling is a way distant second.

The work place: not to be confused with my office place, the place where I work is terribly dull, yet another shopping centre catered to the masses. Whilst KLCC had some "soul", here in Gardens it's all plastic and sterile. But if there's one good thing is that it's a lot more convenient as I can get groceries and such at decent prices, which, as you all know gets a big smile from me.

The people: as I've said, they're friendly and generally will talk to you if you talk to them first. Team-mates are good and very helpful. But I reckon it is only for now because I'm still quite new to the environment. Also, I'm helping to mentor two new girls. They're fresh from the oven and have not worked before. Me, teacher? Why, yes!

Significant things that happened in January:

• Learnt to drive at a much slower pace than I never imagined to save on petrol cost.
• Watched a movie in a Gold class cinema. (Huhu, my wallet is thin now.)
• I've become more organised and structured in my work. (I hope.)
• I've become a mentor! (If you know me well, you would know that I am the king of analogies. I believe analogies make memorising things, especially dreary subjects, a lot easier. I just hope the two girls remember what I've said, though!)
• I'm actually looking forward to working. GASP!

What February would bring:

• More work.
• More work
• More work
• Great time with the family during Chinese New Year
• Valentine's Day special...GASP!!! More on this when it happens.

How has your January been? Good, I hope. As always, stay beautiful and see you next week!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I want a mace that can twirl twirl one!

* - Well, I started writing in the office.

2 more years to disaster. Nah!

In the movie, 2012, the world ends. If yes, then I will look back at 2009* fondly.

2009 has been an up-and-down year. Thankfully, it's mostly been ups. The beginning was rough, I tell no lie as work was filled with one terrible story after another. I was going to work dreading the hours, the day, then the week, then week after that. The stress was explicit and implicit; when I didn't bitch about it, it would simmer within. I wasn't alone in the malaise of Work Hell, thank goodness, but each of the sufferers had their own form of purgatory. But the best thing to come out of that was the solidification of friendships. Yes, more than one happened. In a strange twist of fate, a special friendship was formed out of turmoil. I take nothing away from it apart from a lasting bond between me and one Akka.

As the months went by, so did my colleagues. One by one, the good people from my team managed to procure themselves newer and much greener pastures elsewhere. Whilst I was happy for them, I felt sad as I didn't know when my nightmare would end. But I kept telling myself that my time would come and then the call came. The call that would change my life. Unfortunately, that call would have changed life if it weren't for the intervention of a former colleague whom I thought was a friend. I cursed him, thinking my ticket out had disappeared and that I had to face my doom.

But Fate had something else in mind...

Before I go on, I would like to regale you with another story. It was the beginning of the month of August. We were all excited as finally the long-awaited teambuilding escapade to the island of Perhentian was drawing near. The break from work was much needed and the best part about it was the fact that I got to spend it with my colleagues who I know wouldn't spend it with me if it was to be borne by ourselves. One of the nights, the full moon was shining at its brightest. The sea was gently beating in the background while the air was crisp and warm on the face. That night shall forever be etched in memory as it was the night of magick.

I met the one.

When the hullabaloo of me not getting what was thought as "sure get the job one!", and when everything cooled down, I still sent out my CV in the hopes of securing myself a way out. I was either well below qualified or too qualified. Frustrating, but I kept on going. The last interview I went, I thought, this is it, if I don't get this I'm going to stop for the time being. Though, you know what they say: save the best for last. I managed to convince the boss that I was the right person and voila! I'm now awaiting for the 4th of January next year to start my new job.

Happy times are abound!

Of course, if I were to put in everything that transpired in 2009, this post would be 10000 pages! I'm just glad to say that the last four months have been blessed. I can't think of a better way to say goodbye to the year than with having wonderful memories. As the year draws to a close, I am reminded of all the good things that have happened and what will happen.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: No special resolutions for 2010 because I've accomplished what I've wanted in the last two years.

* - Duh! I have yet to go through 2010 and 2011!

Who would've thought?

Friends. Who needs them?

If you're a loner then the above statement might just pique you. But you (yes, YOU) know me, I am gregarious lad who loves nothing more than to chill-out with his friends (at cheap establishments, no less!).

This story is 7 years in the making. It all started in college; I was then a quiet, fat tub who spoke to no one and thought he would be the class loner. But Fate had a funny card to deal...

As the days went by, I started to mix around with anyone who would talk to me, be it about college work, computer games or whatever that came to mind (i.e. crap) and just being usual self. Of course, as with any place I am at, I would meet characters of all sorts. It seems that all the TV shows are true, you will always find the arrogant one, the goody two-shoes one, the boisterous one, the know-it-all one, the darn-right idiotic one, and of course, the one that everyone hates. I was the class clown and joke maker (I had two positions in the class!), so this made the one that everyone hates to dislike me!

I remember vividly the first time I saw him: he had big headphones, had his hair spiked to the heavens, and holy crap of cows, he was a skinny fucker! He was also loud, kind of abrasive, but that came from him being very opinionated and meticulous. It also didn't help that he had all the latest gadgets that I wanted badly but could never afford.

He and I never got along in the beginning. We had this animosity where the mere presence of each other would send us in the angry zone. We never meant any harm to each other but neither did we mean good. Yet, somehow, we began to talk to each other, work together even. After some time, the animosity disappeared completely. In its place, a friendship bloomed (sounds pretty gay, I know, but I'm telling it as it is so bear with me.) and now we're best mates for life. We may not agree on a few things but we always try to understand each other. Also, we share a lot of personal things, stuff only we can relate to and feel extremely comfortable telling each other our history and feelings.

As I write this, he's now in the state of California, probably sipping on fine wine. Or knowing him, a cold glass of beer, designing the next big thing.

This post is for you, Irwin. Please don't forget me when you've made it to the top. I'll send you my wedding invitation and I don't give a fuck if you're supposed to be designing for the Queen of England, you're coming, damnit!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I am not getting married anytime soon. I repeat: I am NOT getting married anytime soon.

PPS: Maybe next year.

Weird and me go hand-in-hand like butter on bread. And sometimes corn.

You know, sometimes a single word is able to encompass a person's nature so well it can be quite eerily uncanny. Like, for example, George W Bush. The words idiot, dumbass, Dubya, any one of those can be used on him and people will go, "Ahhhhh. True. Pass me the mash potatoes, thanks."

I've been labelled all sorts of derogatory terms growing up and even till now I am still receiving sobriquets of all sorts. But the one title that has been a part of my structure, my being, me, has to be Weird. You can call me strange, peculiar, odd, amazingly fooking hot (to those who've watched District 9, you know what I'm talking about), Weird has and will always most likely be the first thing people will associate me with. Besides new titles such as lovable, adorable, macho, etc of course but lets save those for another post...

As some of you might know, growing up I was always the one kid who didn't seem to fit in any where. Whenever festive season came about I would be placed with my cousins and when they played I was either not invited or I acted diffidently to their (reluctant) invitations. While now I consider myself the dark horse of the family during those times, I was able to assimilate myself to any situation that presented itself so it wasn't a case of that fat kid being antisocial. As such, I've always been comfortable doing things on my own. I find it cathartic; I can eat at my own pace, walk as fast or slow as I want to, scratch my bum when an itch came about, all that can be done without having to worry about someone else beside me. I never considered myself as being a loner, and I certainly don't think that was in any way weird.

I have the tendency to spout utterly random, inane things at times. Family and friends know this fact very well; they either think I'm talking to myself or that one of my screws is loose yet again. Such things are triggered by just about anything at all; it could be a word that I can put a pun or something I've watched in cinemas and is applicable to my daily life. And if I've a friend who can help me make the nonsense even more fun, the more inane I can get. (Thanks be to Frorinder Singgins. Really.)

Waffle Girl said that all people are weird in their own way. Yes and no. They're only thought of to be weird only if they have a certain foible or idiosyncrasy that is deemed anomalous to the norm. What's normal is weird and vice versa. It's just a matter of perception and the general acceptance of what is normal that sometimes confounds people. But that's how life is: one big pile of weird.

So, the next time you call someone weird, be sure that they are weird. For all you know, you're the weird one.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Sandra Bullock is aging mightily well, no?

Heh?

If some random person walks up to you, and asks coolly, “How would you describe yourself in 10 words,” what would you say? What would you honestly say?

After recovering from the initial shock of a person, who out of thin air (a bit hazy, too), is asking me about me, I’d say “Huh?” loudly with a look on my face that’s a mix somewhere between a stunned rabbit and a puzzled potato. I guess my answer would be (and said with utmost confidence):

I’m a boring guy with an exciting life.

I sense puzzlement. I’m 25 but I still think like a 24-year-old.

Are you capable of letting complete strangers know who you are in 10 words? Heck, I couldn’t even describe myself in a single blog post. Is it even remotely possible to give them a clear-cut representation of yourself in a sentence? If you’re brave enough you could do the three-word vend: Cool, Content, Confounded. But since I don’t fall into that category, my explanation would include a whole lot of Um’s and Ugh’s.

Coming back to the question: if this was thrown at me during a job interview, I would say that I’m hardworking, conscientious and able to adapt to any situation (except for ones that involve accountants or lawyers) that is presented to me. I do have to sell myself, you know. Of course, in interviews, such cover-ups are sometimes justified, especially if you're currently employed in a draconian company that preys on its minions and you really, really want to get out.

To truly describe what I'm like is to know me. Really. I can be goofier than a college kid high on carbonated drinks and fast food but I can delve into the psyche of someone who is like Donald Trump, minus the silly hair-do, naturally. I wasn't like this, no, it took some time for me to differentiate silly and serious. I interject silliness into serious proceedings once in a while, but only to alleviate the air of pervasive dread and provided if I know the people are fine with a little lighthearted moment. Or two. Or three.

I've noticed that I am a little more juvenile when I'm around my college mates, as they have known me longer and we are able to tolerate each others' ramblings. Around my work mates, though, I'm still me but not as hyper. I guess I'll assess the situation and tweak my character accordingly. There are times where being yourself is the right thing to do but sometimes a little less of your true self can lead to a much better place. Like, for example, being accepted at your potential employer's company!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Ladies, I am cool and confident. Really.

An open letter to Anger.

Here’s my attempt at writing one of them Letters post. I hope it doesn’t suck.

Sometimes you don’t need to come out when I’m buying bread, you know. Sure, that old lady was asking for it but you didn’t have to say those words. Likewise the old man when you yelled at him, “Old baggage! Go away before your spleen ruptures from over-excitement!”

There are times where your timing is impeccably dreadful. Like the time that fat kid pushed me aside with a bit too much enthusiasm. You responded well by calling him, “fucking fat kid.” Thankfully, his mother wasn’t within earshot. Too bad about the father being just beside him, though. He got quite the earful, eh? So, Anger, can you please stop being a prick?

Thank you.

That was a short, succinct letter, no? I have a short temper. I get irritated when people do irritating things, for instance, when they irritate me. But I cool down easily, too. I don't like being angry. It perturbs my macho-dude persona very much. While this may sound all Zen-like, and even strange, I'm learning to rein it all in.

For the sake of the person's face I may use my fists on as target practise.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I'm more of a lover than a fighter. Oh, yes I am.

Just because you want it badly doesn't mean you deserve it.

Some people are spoilt rotten.

I am talking about people who want things they cannot get. And these are adults with sensible sensibilities we're talking about here. They desire things they think they want but actually they don't. Desire is confused with actual need.

I am a person who doesn't give in to temptation easily. However, when I do I end up not regretting, but rather, feel a little embarrassed. Take the new pair of working shoes I just bought. They cost me RM250. I already have another pair of shoes that cost just as much. Do I need two of them? I think so. And therein lies the problem: I think I need them. I could've just lived my life with just that initial pair but I chose to purchase the new pair on nothing more than a spur of the moment whim. This here is Desire. (But I have to say that them shoes are pretty friggin' comfortable.)

Or take one of life's most consequential yet potentially most hurtful conundrum: Relationships. It can disappoint you like no other. Be that as it may, it can be the most fulfilling and wondrous thing a person will ever experience.

I wonder how on earth can some people get together with just the snap of the fingers. Did something set off in their unconscious mind that told them, yes, lets get together! Why was it so simple for them and not others? I know one story where one party really and truly liked another with all the might in the world but each time disappointment was met as there was little to no response. (Granted, the pursuer is rather hopeless in the game thus didn't realise that maybe a little more perception would've been beneficiary to the cause, but, lets not dwell on that.) Despite all the setbacks, the person hasn't given up and gets back up each time. Any normal, sane person would've (in fact, should've) given up after the third strike. But not this person. Don't know how to give up, the person said. A veritable never-give-up attitude is strong in this one, doesn't understand the meaning of surrender.

Commendable but still rather myopic, aye?

The question this person has to answer is this: is your heart and mind the same? Are they both in synergy? Guys have a tendency to use their other head to think so getting it right is paramount. Most importantly, do you want the other person because you think you want or do you genuinely, with all your heart, know that all the pain, tears and suffering of the pursuit is all worth it?* These are questions that need to be addressed and answered otherwise there's no point in pursuing in the first place.

Last question: how do you know that the right decision isn't the wrong one? Think about it, people, do we really need what we feel we want?

I know what I need. How about you?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Am posting this early as I'll be off on official work-related holiday. Whatever that means. Have a nice weekend, everyone!

* - The answer may surprise a lot of people. Maybe it won't.

Moonwalking to the stars, moon and beyond.

The one and only, Michael Jackson.

The feeling is very odd. It's like waking up one gloomy morning and thinking you're missing something but you can't quite put your finger on. You think to yourself, hmm, what the heck is it. Then it hits you. Ah, I left the keys in the car. Again.

Bad analogy, I know, but it's the best I can come up with.

Michael Jackson is no longer on this planet. Weird, right? One minute we (yes, YOU and I are the guilty ones) are ridiculing him the next we are stupefied by the news of his death, jaws agape. I remember going to work thinking, "huh?" and when I met Waffle Girl for breakfast she was visibly stunned by the news (she still is). I was nonchalant, I mean, lets be real.: yes, he did come up with some of the catchiest, timeless pop songs ever but why would his death bring you to tears? What did he do besides entertaining you for but only a few minutes every time one of his songs was played on the radio? If I sound insensitive then so be it. I won't hide the fact that I didn't feel anything when official news announced the death.

However, the surreality of it didn't hit me until recently. Like how I left my keys in the car, twice, whence I was in college, hearing people refer to him in past tense seems like an odd thing. It didn't sound right. So I can only imagine what his family and his children are going through.

I'm surprised that there has been no dissertation of some sort on the songs that he wrote. Just read the lyrics to You are Not Alone, Leave Me Alone, Stranger in Moscow and the like, and you'll find a man who has everything and nothing. All the money and adoration yet he was a tortured soul. His past shaped him but you would never have known it due to the fact that he was such a tremendous entertainer than you forget he is mortal. You think, "hmm, this is a sad song sung beautifully." But have you even listened to it properly?

Unquestionably, he loved children so much so that ofttimes people thought he was a pervert, a monster, child eater. No, he viewed children as who they were. In essence, Michael was indeed a man-child in a man's world. Neverland was an escape from the real world. It was his refuge, haven from all the bad of the world. And he brought children inside to show them joy that he never got to experience. For that, I give him my utmost sympathy and acknowledgment.

I can only relate to his childhood, or rather, the non-existent one. Not the early fame, of course, when I was five I was still chewing on my Ziggy toy whereas he was belting out hit tunes. But I can relate to the loneliness and the longing for father-and-son moments. They never came but we had hope. Which is why I am driven to be the best father to my unborn child(ren) and give them the childhood I should have had.

I was and most likely never will be a fan of his. Nonetheless, I'll always respect his works no matter what. After all, growing up in the 90's it was near impossible to not like any of his songs. The King of Pop reigned supreme.

Rest in peace, Michael Jackson.

This is Chris, moonwalking...

PS: ...tried moonwalking but I ended up tripping and falling on my butt. Damn.

I would shake your hand, friend.

He was a playboy, this person is. He was known to flirt with every female that came his way, even with friends' girls, trying his best to win them over with his charm and wit which he had in spades. And, boy, did he had them. If that wasn't enough, he was blessed with looks that could kill and a smile that could light up a house. Oh, he has a killer body, too. Some people have all the luck, eh?

Unfortunately, this is what most people think when they see him. Everything is untrue except for the charisma and appearance.

You see, back in the day, this guy was a real showboat; every single thing about him screamed "jock!" It didn't help that I had a little crisis with my own looks so when he came strutting into a room, I would groan and say fuck softly. He was always smartly dressed whereas I was content with my creased as can be shirt. He had the girls mesmerised while the guys wanted to be his best bud. The thing that always got to me was his holier-than-thou attitude. Come presentation time, he would lead his team and present a slick and engaging topic. He had the confidence and the panache to pull it all off. Did I forget to mention that he is also smart as heck?

There was this innate animosity between us, like how a gorilla when upon seeing another gorilla will want to puff up its chest and start pounding it silly. Well, I was a chubby, clumsy and comical gorilla whereas he was a silverback. This continued for some time but it died slowly and surely as we got older. So you can only imagine how far and hard my jaw dropped when I found out he is married and now has child! He, of all people, has settled down and is now a proud father. I didn't have his number otherwise I would've called and congratulated him.

I hated him, but why? you may ask. Back then I would've said that he was a damn prick. But now it all seems like trivial dribble. All the piercing glares we gave each other and the inane posturing all are a distant memory. I've always had a deep respect for him and his methods even though I agreed with them less than half the time.

So I raise my cup of milk and congratulate wholeheartedly to you, the missus and your newborn. Have a blessed life and hopefully we'll have a coffee together some day.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I am humbled.