Happy 2011

Quoting Anais Nin, I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.

But speaking of molding my life, there are some things that I keep failing at getting right, such as:

1. make laughing a daily affair, even at work, despite or rather in spite of the menopausal characters there that make it a strong contender for Satan's favourite summer home
2. stop being a hypochondriac suspecting every sneeze to be an air-borne infectious disease
3. stop turning into a Victorian boarding school matron and relax a little. (Drugs anyone?)
4. unplug the umbilical cord that is my internet connection and enjoy the sunshine
5. have the courage to switch off my phone with full confidence that it will not herald the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse and the world would still revolve as it should
6. to respond rather than react. Main advantage being that my voice would not hike up several decibels and vex the dogs.

And lately spirituality has taken a back seat. I have been asked why does God need to be worshiped. But who ever said that worship is for God's benefit. I need a spiritual compass more than God will ever require my feeble adorations. So there is another one for the drawing board - salvation and serenity.

I am tempted to go on a litany on present consciousness but that would be another blog post. I need a swami's robe and a cymbals to go with it.

So here's much work to be done in the coming year. Here's wishing that yours too will be filled with good tidings and good health.

Its snowing in Europe

Without me. When la can I get to cream a passerby with a slushball again?? I mish you snow.

Come as you are

Now this classic picture makes me feel old. Is this considered vintage yet?

I had this exact poster on my wall in college.

Growing up in Taiping , tell me how grunge was not God-send?

Cobain is Hawtness personified. Damaged nonetheless. Explains Courtney. And yeah, the shotgun.

And speaking of Courtney, I was just remarking how Amanda Palmer is today's version of the Courtney of the 80s. And I just found out that Frances Bean Cobain was a vocalist on Evelyn Evelyn (of which Amanda Palmer is part of the duo). This disturbs me.

Straten Malaysia: Malaysia's Invisible Children

Straten Malaysia: Malaysia's Invisible Children: "The Paradigm Shift Project Malaysia is one of Southeast Asia's most developed nations, and yet, is home to some of the most marginalized ..."

Monologue

I am suspending scepticism for a while.

But that would mean that I must not read the news. Bad news make great headlines. Inequitable policies and greedy politicians make for great conversations. Especially when its easier to talk against the government than for the Opposition.

Until we have a true statesman, and no, I do not think that we have one on either side of the fence, voting - at least for me, will be a matter of who I distrust the least.

Truth of the matter is, nation building still hinges on whats-in-it-for-me multiply 27 million people.

Skepticism is easy. Too easy. Its easier to avoid heartbreak if I let go my ideals of a utopia, and as it is, only a fool would pursue Xanadu. (cue music). And leaving the country seems like an easy way out.

And yet..

when the non-locals in my workplace bitterly complain about this country of ours, there has been times when I am ready to not so subtly tell them to go back where they came from.

Hm, not unfamiliar rhetoric. Disturbing too. Moral high ground just got steamrollered.

How can I decrying a Singaporean bashing my country, when I do the same. Do I only rely on my IC as proof of my locus standi over his?

Is my cynicism justifying the criticism.

Someone Twittered that citizenship is a responsibility.

Perhaps that is not just a pretty phrase.

Fantasies of being a Balrog

The intellectual rot is beginning to take its toll.

Its sad when there is no place to have a decent conversation that does not revolve around character assassination around the water cooler.

I guess the growing ethical conflict at the office is beginning to affect me in that I am having fantasy conversations telling people to shut up.

But reporting to the pre-menopausal comes with its own occupational risks that would involve inhospitable working conditions.

We will see how this works out.

You see, a Balrog would not have to face problems like these. It can happily go its way, eating trespassing wizards and tending to its flames and evil darkness.

Nobody would dare give the Balrog attitude. Or ask it to do mindless photocopying or comb binding.

And with a snort the Balrog would be able to dismiss (in ashes) any condescending member of management or self-centred customer. There would be no complaints and nobody would dare call for meetings at 5 minutes to its clock off time.

Yup, it would be great to be a Balrog.

What’s the Story Morning Glory?

It’s a startling discovery.

I sing with a British accent.

And I thought I got rid of that when I got back. But then, I can’t do any Oasis song without it.

Hm, Catch 22.

Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra

Was asked before a performance:

"how come most of the musicians are foreigners?"

"Um,because most of our Malaysian musicians are in Australia and the States because there is hardly a job market here for them?"

Surely talent appreciation knows no distinction in nationality? We only wish.

That of course brings me to the newly mooted Talent Corp.

Talent Corp, in its bid to woo our best and brightest overseas to return home, has an uphill battle. Does this qualify as the understatement of the year?

With a political climate that sees the racial card being raised more times than the red card in La Liga, there'd be many in Malaysia who would volunteer to trade places. And if the situation is such that the PM has to reassure the Malaysian minority with a public statement that we are not 'pendatangs' or immigrants, a constitutional right that should be a given by now, I am not sure I feel very reassured. The politics of fear plied by the political parties and newspapers seem to make it an us against them battle. Real or Wayang - who is to say?

Political statements without the will and infrastructure to carry those through is commonplace. Looking through the frustrations vented out in forums just on the Malaysia My Second Home is a good indication as to the eventual fate of similar promises.

Expediting immigration processes for foreign spouses? When we still have so many local applicants waiting right into their golden years for their blue ICs? Its hard not to be cynical about it.

And is retaining brilliant home-grown talent anywhere in Talent Corp's KPIs? I would be really interested to learn the studies taken to understand why people are leaving in the first place. I wonder if it will ever be published because the truth can be too embarrassing.

Applying a basic principle of marketing - easier to retain a current customer than woo a new or disenchanted one, no?

But if as The Star puts it, that meritocracy be the foundation of establishing a truly global and competitive economy to make any attempt of wooing our talents home successful, then Talent Corp is doomed. Meritocracy is still a dirty word in this country. Its too politicized. Oddly, only by the politicians.

Anyway, I still love the MPO and music is still one of the very few pleasures that transcends space, time and communal politics. For now.

Design Services

What an exhausting weekend.

The house still looks like a barn so housework did not get done over these two days.

Do I need Nate Berkus.. yeah! Do I need sponsored stuff from Pottery Barn.. you bet!

Am I watching too much Oprah because neither Nate or PB is even on the same continent as I am? Go figure.

In anycase, made a trip to visit a friend's gorgeous new crib and me likes. Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. And her cat sure can teach my pets some lessons in the virtues of a clean floor. * terrazzo are friends, not free-for-all-litter*

Question now is, which is the best bank to rob for me to achieve similar simplicity? OCBC maybe? I wonder will this post be flagged for that? I am kidding, Jo. Honest. I'll hit RHB.

Now I understand why when mothers get together, they do nothing but coo about kids. All I do these days is discuss plaster ceiling and electrical points. Its a great conversation piece. I must have like inspired many to try their hand at their very own 3D Kitchen Design programme.

Like real.

I wish there was a Pottery Barn in this continent.

Twit Twit

Oh updates!

1. S&P - check

2. Loan documents - check

3. Passing out while budgeting for renovation and legal fees - CHECK

(I have decided to forgo the plaster ceiling and glass balcony and settle for furniture.)

Owning a home in this economic climate is like giving birth.

Possible with many a desirable outcome, but not without a lot of noise and trepidation. And fleeting moments of contemplating murder. God knows the gestation period is long enough.

Anyway, fell ill again. Hence the rantless month of September.

(In my next rebirth, I am demanding better antibodies. Or at least come back as Uma Thurman).

Anyway, in the tradition of utter randomness, here is a picture of a dog:

The Charlatan

When I have become what they want me to be

A perfect paper cut, rubber stamp, carbon copy

Of the masses' hypocrisy and plastic respectability

Under the guise of growing up and living up

Earning my dimes by sucking up

Then I am indeed, a Charlatan

When I finally decide on a tattoo..

I like the position & concept of the one here but the Om artwork can be better...

I love the one below but I wonder if my dad or the resident Iyer priests will burn me on the pyre for blasphemy. You only see great artwork of deities on white people or the Japanese.

I mean, on anyone but wholesome Hindus.

Credit: Harizanmai Tattoo Studio

Credit: http://www.riskapele.com.br/tatuagens/ganesh/3209/1.html

There are No Housing Developers in Heaven (may they Roast in Crispy)

Ok, Me disappeared for a while.

Its ok. Me not killed anyone yet. Still working on diabolical plan.

(and OD-ing on Cookie Monster videos. Hence the homage.)

Anyway, as you know, me trying to buy home. And me have got to the stage that lawyers are drafting the S&P, and I find out that after my land search, that the residual leasehold period is 79 years as oppose to the 90 over years as informed by my vendor and her agent.

So in a huff and a puff, me told the agent and vendor to get their facts right.

Vendor was also shocked when she got confirmation from the developer, that the master title indeed only had 79 years left on the lease.

Vendor was told when she bought the property that there was still 99 years on the lease. But now the developer does not want to take responsibility for what their sales people represented to the initial buyers.

And here is the odd thing. When the management office of the condo was contacted, they still maintained that there was 94 years left on the lease.

So now, I have to decide if I want to continue with the purchase or terminate it on misrepresentation. At least 3 years of law didn't totally rot away.

But to come so close....

So now housing developers too are there on my list of despicable scumbags.

The future is bright. The future is octopus.

Dhanyabad Biman.

A condo unit costing RM360k in Petaling Jaya - FREEHOLD?

But I am still waiting with bated breath

UPDATE: Worked! But leasehold. With despicable developers thrown in as bonus

All Hail Paul

What a day for the inglorious cephalopod. Undoubtedly oblivious to his celebrity status and the various recipes he has help inspired throught the 2010 World Cup. All except Spain of course where I bet he's more popular than King Juan Carlos right now.

For more:

http://g.sports.yahoo.com/soccer/world-cup/blog/dirty-tackle/post/Paul-the-Oracle-Octopus-goes-eight-for-eight-is?urn=sow,255211

Smith & Wesson

This is Smith

And this is Wesson

So christened by your humble narrator, these little morsels were adopted to be companions to my existing pet bunny who (still) thinks she is a puppy. Unfortunately they did not get along as hoped. The guinea pigs were terrified witless while my Bun was more entertained counting hay.

So less traumatic lodgings was finally found in the form of Danny and Co’s welcoming home. They have been well loved judging from how they have grown from the size of wee baby booties to now resembling fluffy bedroom slippers.

I am babysitting the furry rodents for the week until Danny returns from vacation. Man, I forgot how much they poop.

Distractions with a capital um, D

On another note - i just bought The Clockwork Orange. The book.

Right, where were we. Ah yes, righteous pandering. But that is no fun anymore.
Random old skool MTVs are depressing. Being grown up is boring especially when I catch myself wondering why other people can't be more responsible. Hah! I missed all the warning signs.

An even thinking of perming my hair. That is just friggin wierd. Where did this aunty come from. Do you even know me?

Hamster Wheel

The amount of travelling this year has increased leaps and bounds from last year. I guess when the Company said Regional, it didn't really hit me that it would involve dragging my ass over to developing countries.

Can't say that I am disappointed.

Yet, for all the moving around, there are some lessons learnt:

There is no place like home, no duvet like my own and nasi lemak ayam rempah is a national treasure.

And that travelling Malaysians have a very bad habit of complaining. No nation I know of has a people than runs down its own,where nationalistic pride is an exception than the rule. Of course I am generalizing but I bet that if you are Malaysian, I am sure that you would know at least one specimen of this infinitesimal annoying species.

What brought this rant on is one couple I had the misfortune of overhearing at the KLIA terminal the last time I was flying in. I must say that KLIA is one of the better airports around and despite how effective the system that as in place, even THAT still was a point of consternation for this couple.

Anyway, bad vibes aside here is my favorite photo from Bali.

Happy Birthday !

Hah! Another year, baby!

It's been a super rollercoaster.

It's been carpe diem.

It's been Kill Bill and House and Supernatural all rolled into one.

It's being blessed beyond my capacity to imagine. It's gratitude and tears and fears, sunshine and superheros.

It's still wondering what growing up is suppose to mean.

I am turning into my Dad.

Do you ever feel that after years of ambition, when you finally get to where you thought you should be, you find out that this was not what you expected at all?

Working regionally has its perks but more often than not, it reminds me how much I love being home. I miss my bunnies too.

Someone once told me that work travel does not acquaint one with cities but more often airports.

I understand that completely now. My next trip is coming on too soon.

Bat Cat!

Ola!

Its February. The tail end of it anyway. And I have been away from blogging for a while.
Yes, beyond noticing my knack for stating the obvious, the more astute of you would also realise that I am writing again ..um obviously.

Explaining my disappearance would not only dissipate the air of mystery that I have carefully architectured but it would also take too much effort. Especially on my part.

Suffice to say that new leaves have been turned, fresh chapters begun and life is being lived as it should, as oppose to wringing my hands complaining that its driving past too fast and at my displeasure.

Its good to be back. Expect more changes...