Kangar-ooo

Returning from Kangar, I must say that I was a little surprise to find the town bustling. I had expected a sleepy hallow where I could walk across the main street blindfolded without so much at getting knocked down.

You would be pleased to note that that I quickly abandoned that notion upon arriving.

As the state of Perlis does not have its own airport, From KL I flew into the aiport at Kepala Batas, Kedah and took a cab to Kangar - a pleasant 45 minute drive through amber paddy fields and cosy villages. My cabbie used the old trunk roads where there was neither sign nor milestone to tell me my location. Honestly I would hardly have noticed if I was kidnapped to be sold off across the border.

I put up at the 11-story Putra Palace, one of the more popular hotels in Kangar. Discovering the happy combination of Room Service and in-house entertainment, I was indeed a happy camper with my glorious nasi goreng kampong and chicken satay laid out over my bed spread as I savoured my Hindi drama, English comedy and a reality show.

Simple bliss really but those who know me (and had the misfortune of having me pour out my miseries) would be able to tell you that I live in rented accommodation which allows neither TV, cooking, air-conditioning or even a Dunlop mattress.

Hence I was most absorbed in enjoying the creature comforts within the four walls of my hotel room than to really explore what lay outside.

Putra Palace provides excellent value for money. At RM130 I got a large room with two beds, cool air-conditioning, a mini fridge, a TV, hot water plus breakfast for two in the morning. Showering space is a bit of a squeeze and enemies of shower curtains - bewarned. Nevertheless I was very pleased to find an actual hand held hairdryer (as oppose to the leaf blowers most hotels bolt unto the bathroom wall), an iron and a ironing board all tucked inside the wardrobe. Naturally these essentials are truly appreciated by women.

And although I was given a room on the floor for smokers, I am so glad the sheets did not smell of Marlboros and the walls not infused with the stench. (Inside tip: Always get a non-smoking room if you ever find yourself at Cititel KL. Otherwise you will face a sick inducing nightmare.)

But the one thing that got my goat was the lack of a remote control which I found exceedingly tiresome in view of my sloth.

I checked out at 8am this morning and after I finished a tad of unpleasant court business I walked a round a bit and bumped into this.

Law and order

They begin so silently.
A momentary surprise in the smooth expanse, like an accidental ripple. Then one by one the ripples come a bit more urgent, a little less gentle and as wake upon wake slowly come together, a ferocity is awaken that engulfs and washes me away.

It is very unnerving as the stress and strain of the daily toil begin to stake their claim on the body and mind, with every intention of drowning the spirit. Like a tide that creeps up on the unsuspecting, you won’t realise until you are in a little too deep

Nothing was more evident to me during this past week. When I found myself unable to even eat, sleep and even focus, alarm bells went off like a tsunami warning. With headaches the size of the Atlantic, I was indeed a wreck.

I have invested about 6 years of my life and not to mention a great sum of money as a student of the law and now I am beginning to loath it. Not the subject, but the very people that are apart of this industry. Law on its own is a subject that is interesting and beguiling as any.

Yet, I cannot reconcile the nobility of the profession with the jarring snobbery of its members. The utter ease that rudeness is dispensed and the way junior members of the profession are bullied, it is shameful. Senior members of the bar treat me like I am invisible and and when they do the holier-than-thou attitudes get put on pompous display.

It was a good thing that I managed to meet Jo for a good ranting session. It is good to let off steam once in a while.

My job is slowly killing me

With my amazing knack of stating the obvious, I know I have been direly neglecting my blog.

Indeed far from being short on things to rant about, its just I am finding it close to impossible to keep up with time. Or to put it more eloquently in my current language of panic ‘WHAT TIME?’

I miss the days when work related travel only meant taking a cab to the city centre. I am sent to Kangar (a sleepy hollow located at the most north state of the country) to attend to a writ of seizure and sale. What that means is that the court bailiff will be going into the home or office of a creditor and “attach” the assets so that they can be auctioned off to pay off the debt.

And I am there to watch the proceedings and to avoid any flying debris that might get thrown at the court officials in the event there are violent protests. This is bound to be fun.

I know wierd people

Surfing for a particular software online, a bored Wee decided to chat with a sales support staff of the said company.
His nick: Jesus


Jesus: This is your God speaking.

Sales Rep: This is Vlad, Sales Rep of ......How may I help you ?

Jesus: God is looking for a front-end to manage the SQL Server Database, to which God uses it to store data on the entire human population. God is looking for a free copy.

Sales Rep: Godlike creature, although I don't think I am talking to God, we can still provide GodLike Discounts, if you tell us what you need.

Jesus: God is currently downloading your trial package, and if God finds it worthwhile, he will summon you again. God hath spoken.

Sales Rep: Thank you for your time and attitude.
-END-

Just let me sleep

I think when one falls sick, it the body forcing the mind to not get so excited and slow down to rest. I have been nursing a soggy head and trying to think is like wading though a sea of snot. Ok, that was disgusting. Sorry.

I am scaring myself at the way I am pumping pills into myself. Doctors have no qualms of giving one antibiotic after antibiotic when all one needs usually is a few days MC to just stay home and rest.

Unfortunately I have yet to come across a doctor who would prescribe more than a day of rest from work. Honestly, the body is really not up to repairing a sick body in a day. And how productive exactly can a body be half dead? Honestly I find it frustrating having to trudge back to the doctor to get another MC the next day.

Worse if it is a panel clinic that one is forced to seek medical attention. A doctor once confided in me that most companies request that doctors give only the minimum dose of what is required to make the patient functional. So if a person should be on a 5 day course of medication, the doctor would prescribe 3 days. No MC unless strictly necessary (i.e. you are at death's door.)

I understand that doctors need work too and if the company so dictates, then the doctor is put in a very difficult position.

Things Fall Apart

Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart is the first book that I had the honour and pleasure to study in my literature class so many years ago and I did pour over it with great relish.

It is a rare luxury indeed to be able to take time to immerse oneself in language and prose, to live through every line and breathe the joys and tribulations of the characters. The book tells the tale of an african tribe leader as he grapples with change with the arrival of the White Man. It chronicles his fear and helplessness which he vainly masks with pride.

What is scary is that I keep seeing parallels between his world and mine. If that is so, it bodes ill for me as in the end, the protagonist succumbs to despair.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
- Second Coming, Keats

Introspection

I am sending my dad off to the Middle East again and there will be tears all round again. I am very close to him and seeing my father only twice a year is difficult for me. His sacrifices for the family and particularly for me, has been monumental. At the ripe age of 29, I am still very much Daddy's girl. So it will be hard to not have him around again. Especially now when I am so constantly overwhelmed. Sometimes being alone is both a blessing and a curse.

One by one my friends are getting happily married. I am going to my best friend's wedding over the weekend and I know I will embarass myself by getting all soppy and crying at the ceremony. I wish Sharon and Jim all the happiness in the world.

Happy Valentine's Everyone.

Park life

Today, sitting in the open, staring at the ocean of sky, I stumbled upon the perfect antidote to anger, misery and despair. Not having the pleasure of being part of organized religion, I do not have the relief of conviction that those who do me ill will burn to a crisp in deepest hell. Hence my quest for personal tranquility.

Everything is indeed relative. Even the earth we live in is so large that we can’t honestly fathom the immenseness of creation, what more when one considers the great expanse that is space. In the bigger picture so to speak, our personal hurts and tears are nothing but space dust in the grand scheme of things.

So what if we are surrounded by morons, our love life is feeding flies, our boss is Beelzebub, life out there continues and there is no rational point for feeling low as just as sure as the sun shines, bigger wheels are churning to which our personal universes are nothing but dirt.

This realization of our troubles being preposterously tiny can only be achieved if one take a good look at the world around – preferable large fields, leafy parks or on rooftops. Trying to find comfort walking through a mall or watching TV is akin to intentionally skinning your self: extremely painful and stupid. When everyone is telling you that you are ugly/fat/unsuccessful/your boyfriend secretly prefer you with lighter skin/bigger boob/straighter hair -you may just develop homicidal tendencies. Or at least suicidal ones.

I am going for a walk. See ya.

I survived CNY 2006

I have just returned from a week long sojourn. Crawled through mind-numbing traffic to get home for the Chinese New Year holidays. What a brilliant one it was. I was also internet-less for a week hence the dreadful silence.

It was so noisy and crowded and festive that it was pure chaos at times. But that is the spirit of a chinese celebration. The ang pau haul this year was modest. Can't expect much when I am at the age where I am expected to be donating the red packets.

But one good thing about having the big break up with the ex is that there have been absolutely NO annoying questions as to when am I getting hitched. So far so good. But not for long. My best friend is getting married in two weeks time and the resident aunties won't be so indulgent.

Speaking of weddings - I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR.
My entire wardrobe is black. In the vain hope that I exude sophistication, I have earned the reputation for being as fashionable as Morticia.