Friday, September 29, 2006

Talk to the Hen

I seem to be writing less on leave than when I was working. I am tired out from running around getting people to sign my papers for my call to the bar, typing affidavits, making eyes at the commissioner of oaths, filing the darn papers at the High Court, serving them on the different legal entities, then affirming my affidavits of service which I had to then file into court again.

So my two weeks of purported leisure just went swoosh!

I start work next Monday and I have not gotten over my relief at having completed my court marathon to begin worrying about my new job like e.g. “what if my new co-workers hate me” or ‘‘what if the company is actually a set up for a multi million dollar money laundering operation” or “what if I forget how to spell diarrhoea again”.

And yes, I have begun to miss the legal firm.
This is indeed chicken shit.
I can never be happy.

Thursday, September 21, 2006


I haven't been putting up photos lately as my Olympus battery charger has gone bust. Who would have figured. To replace the charger I would have to fork out RM230 bucks. Perhaps I should just get a new camera.

We had to let go of the Canon 350D SLR and the beloved lenses when we moved into our current apartment. It paid for our TV and the rest of the furniture. Plus with the arrival of the latest EOS 30D, the resale value of the 350D Digital Rebel was showing signs of a drastic drop, so we had to heave it quick.
So bye bye SLR.

No use denying it. The SLR is sorely missed.

I don't suppose I can put it on my wedding register when I get hitched.

London Bridge

With the radio stations playing it with religious fervour, I am sure that you would have at some point caught Fergie's London Bridge.

The beats are cool although the lyrics is just crap. It's easy to get addicted to it though. As one blogger puts it,"It's catchy, like Herpes."

The video sure pissed off the Brits. Not only does she don their flag on her butt but the footage also featured Tower Bridge instead of the real London Bridge.

Guess there isn't much sex appeal in a drab concrete bridge with no towers on top.

But still.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Happy and Sad

Now that for two weeks I am rid of the tiring function of earning a living, I have decked my room to resemble Rasputin’s den of dark shadows and dank tea leaves, sans the debauchery naturally. I ain’t so lucky.

So here I am sulking in front of my PC in a dark room, trying to stoke the dying embers of creativity so that I can actually write something worthwhile, yet all I can think about is Kermit the Frog and how articulate and misunderstood he is. If all kids can speak like the green frog instead of taking after Elmo, won’t English teachers have less problems with their blood pressure?

This clip is a hoot.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Through rose-tinted glasses

I knew this would happen.
I just knew it.

I complete my chambering yesterday and as expected I am feeling all sentimental about it. Not to mention experiencing severe doubts as to whether I am prepared to leave this profession.

Despite all its shortcomings, I readily agree that it is a profession whose members are intrinsically bound by a deep sense of fraternity, solidarity and resounding pride. It is not unlike an exclusive club whose membership is by baptism of fire. Entrails before entry.

Legal study is punishing, practice is damning and remuneration is shameful, as you probably know by now from my bitter confessions on this blog over the last few months.

Nevertheless in true fashion time has diluted my loathing for the legal system somewhat. In the last few weeks as I manoeuvred the labyrinth that is the Magistrate Courts, I became aware of a surprising yet not unpleasant sense of belonging. And there is this unspoken understanding that while I am crossing swords with opposing counsel, I am still only duelling with a colleague.

I will never forget the day I got severely scolded by my Pupil Master for bringing two versions of an affidavit instead of just one for her approval. I was sharply criticised for not making my own decision and defending my choice.
“Because you are Counsel!”, she shrieked.


I am Counsel.

I will be called to the Malaysian Bar as an Advocate and Solicitor of the High Court of Malaya in late October. I have won my place in this fraternity and oh yeah, the pride is certainly resounding.

Friday, September 08, 2006


You know the mood music compositions that combine say drum beats with the sound of the ocean or a raging thunderstorm? There is one real cool site where you can actually customise your own, for free! Pretty cool.
Check it out:

Ready, Set, GRIMACE

I attended another job interview 2 days ago just to get initiated with the company. Located quite out of the way, this is one major Chinaman enterprise and I was quite surprised that a panel of 6 people was there to interview humble old me for this position that really ought not have required so much formality. Present were the GM and even the Chariman no less.

It was a very intimidating and uncomfortable experience certainly. I got the impression that they aren't very pleased that I am leaving a "honourable" profession to join them. Most of the questions hinged on the legal side oddly.

While I was not afraid, I wanted out immediately. I felt that they blocked out the sun with their sullenness. Like, how much would it cost to smile? One guy silently left the room when I was there and didn't return until I was about finished. I thought that was very rude. The Chairman ( a Datuk) would not even make eye contact with me!
Upon leaving the place I bet my long sigh of relief was heard even in Toronto. I won't go back there even if you gave me a winning racehorse.

Postscript: They called me back to say that I didn't make the cut. Pity. I would have loved the opportunity of turning them down.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Grammar Mama

Until a week ago, I did not know how to spell diarrhoea. Or manoeuvre.

I also knew diddly-squat on the differences between "its" and "it's". Elementary I know yet with the advent of Microsoft Word's spell check, my spelling and most of my grammar have degenerated to the state of stale Swiss cheese and now with the automatic spell check option, I am none the wiser. Hence if you got a handwritten Christmast card from me last year, it wasn't my fault!

Yet on the other extreme, becoming a grammar snob is so unbelievably anal.
Can you imagine combing through publications to find that one fatal typo, the one rouge apostrophe to ruin the day of the already highly-strung writer? More and more of these self-appointed language centurions are now even writing to the papers complaining about the state of our English. I say, may the one who has never made a grammar gaff cast the first paperweight!

More than the writers, I look at the industry's pencil-chewing proofreaders in new light now. Besides the indigestion, the stress that comes from having to be constantly aware of every semicolon would be insane. One would wonder who would ever want such a crummy job?

Apparently I would. You see, I just got hired as an Editor. To deal with English language teaching materials. So when your kids start spelling Christmast my way, kindly remember that it is really not my fault.
Blame Bill Gates.